"How did you find out?" His tone shifts. It's actually more serious which is saying a lot for him. "When did you find out?"
"Last night." I pinch my index finger and thumb across my nose. "I railed on her about skipping work when she got home and somehow we ended up talking about that shit head."
"Shit head?" He cocks a brow. "Governor Lane is responsible for a lot of the positive change in Connecticut."
He sounds like a goddamned campaign commercial. I won't be surprised if he puts a pin on my lapel with the Governor's face on it. I can't stand his face. After Jessica went into hiding in the guest room, I did another search for senators in Connecticut named Thomas. It took all of a split second before his smiling face was staring right back at me. As much as I hate to admit it, Sasha was right; the Governor is easy on the eyes. I could instantly see why Jessica would have fallen for him.
"I don't care about him." It sounds petulant and juvenile. "I care about Jessica."
"So she used to bang him back in the day." He leans back in the chair. "You're no angel, Nate."
I don't need the reminder. I've been playing that argument in my mind since Jessica walked out of the room. I don't have a right to be angry. I can't even remember the majority of women I've fucked. Why the hell am I letting this get so far under my skin? She fucked some guy years ago and now he's back sniffing around her. Who can blame him? "I know," I acquiesce.
"Why do you even care?" He crosses his right leg over the right. "It happened a long time ago, right?"
I nod. I'm hoping it was a long time ago. The only grain of faith Jessica threw my way last night was that she hadn't fucked him yesterday. My logical mind is telling me that he hasn't been inside of her in years. My childish, jealous and petty mind is telling me that he's on the chase right now, trying to get that sweet, tight, little body of hers back in his bed. "It was years ago."
"That makes sense. I mean he's married now."
My head bolts up. Why didn't I read the articles last night instead of just staring at the guy's picture? "He's married?"
Garrett cocks a brow. "How do you not know any of this?"
"How long has he been married?" Maybe his interest in Jessica is nothing more than a quick jaunt down memory lane. Maybe he's in New York on something unrelated to her and he tracked her down at Axel.
"I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders. "He and his wife have a couple of kids."
That information only adds to my relief. There's no way in hell Jessica would get herself wrapped up in a relationship with a married man. I feel like shit. I feel like an ass for getting on her case about some guy she banged when she was a teenager. "I need to get some flowers." I reach for the phone on my desk.
"By the sounds of it…" Garrett dips his chin in the direction of the phone. "You should probably order every bouquet they have."
***
"I liked the flowers." Her head doesn’t move as the words leave her lips. She hasn’t glanced in my direction since I sat down next to her on this bench in Central Park. "I left them at the restaurant. I'll pick them up on my way home."
"I stopped by there to see you." I inch closer. "I didn't know you were on the early shift today." It's true. I had no idea what shift she was working. When I knocked softly on the guest room door early this morning there was no answer. I didn’t press. I wasn't going to push her into a place where she would completely shut down on me.
She nods, her gaze still cast forward. "I just needed some time to cool down."
It's more than she would have given me a few months ago. I take it. I fucking embrace it. "I was out of line, Jessica."
"You were an asshole." The corner of her mouth snaps up in a small grin. She offers me the soft baked pretzel she's holding in her hand.
I pull off a piece before popping it into my mouth. I knew she'd be here the moment the head chef at the restaurant told me her shift was done. It's the place she always comes to when she needs to think. "You're right." I pull off another piece. "I'm fucking starving."
"You always say that." Her head turns towards me. "You eat a lot."
"Lucky for me you're an amazing chef." My tone is light and cheerful. I'm not trying to mask the depth of what happened last night. I'm trying to find a spot where she'll let me back in. I want her to know that I didn't fucking mean what I said.
She reaches up to scratch her fingers along the side of her face. "I wish you would have been my first."
The words tear through me with more strength than I can bear. My heart jumps in my chest. I have to pull my finger across my brow to temper the heavy onslaught of emotions I'm feeling. "Jessica."
"You don't have to say you wish I was your first." She bites her bottom lip. "I'm not looking for that."
I know she's not. I also know that she's well aware that if I could change anything about my past, before I met her, I would. I was aimlessly searching for something within all those women. Every encounter I had was more vacant and empty than the one before i
t. I was on autopilot, fucking a new woman almost every week, just to satiate the empty pit that was inside of me. It only grew larger until Jessica walked into the club. "I know, Jessica," I say the words to quiet my own emotions. I know she accepts me exactly as I am. She's overlooked so much bullshit for me. Why the fuck am I making such a huge deal over a man she slept with so long ago?