“So come and have a drink with me. We can catch up.”
Unmistakably, panic crossed her face. “No.”
“A martini. I remember you always loved them.”
She pressed her lips together again and her face was drawn. She looked tense. Actually, she looked slim. Slimmer than she’d been two years ago, her cheekbones highlighted by the loss of weight.
“I can’t.”
I can’t.It was a telling response, and for a moment, he wondered if she had a boyfriend. It wouldn’t surprise him. She deserved that. So he should have been happy for her.
“Goodnight, Grayson.”
Chapter2
“WAIT A SEC.” At the end of the staff corridor, there was a button that called the elevator. She jabbed it with a finger, her pulse in overdrive as she felt Grayson right behind her.
“Seriously? I didn’t have you pegged as the stalking type.”
“I’m just trying to say ‘hi’.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not in my life anymore.”
“So we can’t spend half an hour catching up?”
She imagined this was how he did it. Sexual, sophisticated relationships followed by mature, unemotional ‘friendships’ when it was convenient. Perhaps even a tumble in the hay for old time’s sake. Only Abby knew she couldn’t go along with that. Not after everything that had happened; there was too much water under the bridge.
“I don’t want to ‘catch up’ with you. Come on, Gray. What part of this doesn’t make sense to you?”
He caught her wrist, spinning her around to face him. The look on his face was perplexed. “The part where you’re treating me like a stranger.”
“I’d be more polite to a stranger,” she snapped quickly, earning a flicker of amusement from Grayson, a look that seared her to the pit of her stomach.
“Then let’s pretend.” He was close. So close that her face automatically tilted upwards, her eyes latched to his.
“Pretend what?” She knew she shouldn’t indulge him. This line of questioning was dangerous. But she’d always been weak where Gray was concerned.
“That we don’t know each other.”
“I’m not into games of make-believe.”
“Aren’t you even a little curious?”
“About you?”
“Sure. About me, and the last two years.”
“No.”
“Liar,” he said softly, and she bit down on her lip to stop a little moan from escaping. Damn him. She wanted to hate him. Shedidhate him, she reminded herself forcibly. But unfortunately, she wasn’t capable of stopping her body from wanting him. She tinkered with her necklace, a locket with a photo of Charlotte, knowing she should step away from him again.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“Probably.”