Tempt Me: A Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Me Series Book 2)

by Penelope Marshall

  "Who asked you, Summer?" I growled, turning to head back to my office to lick my wounds.

  HANNAH

  "What the hell is wrong with him?"

  "Well, he obviously still has a thing for you," Summer said as she watched Ryder leave.

  "No, not possible. He left and didn’t even look back."

  "Looks like he's looking back now if you ask me, that is?"

  I shook my head. "I can't do that with him again. He broke my heart into a million pieces, and I'm still picking up shards a year later. He left me—he just left."

  "Men!" She shook her head.

  "Tell me about it."

  "Well, I gotta go and take care of a few things before the day is over. Are you gonna be alright?"

  "Yeah, I have to give him the clothes from today, and then I'll head home."

  "I'd offer to deliver them for you, but I don’t really feel like getting my head bitten off twice in the same hour."

  I chuckled awkwardly. "I completely understand."

  She patted me on the shoulder then turned and walked away, leaving me to head to the lion's den alone. I took a deep breath and picked up the bags, right as a pair of stiletto heels rushed by me.

  Standing up, I saw the same pair of stilettos disappear into Ryder's office. It couldn’t have been Summer, she was wearing red heels, and she'd walked in the other direction.

  I knew I probably should just leave the bags at the door and go home, but curiosity—maybe even a little jealousy—got the best of me.

  Why do I do this to myself?

  Slowly, I edged down the hall, wondering what I would say when I knocked on the door. Hey, here's the clothes I spent the day shopping for? Hey, why are you such a dick? No, that probably wouldn't be the best thing to say—especially at that point.

  Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door with my hand balled up into a fist, ready to knock on the pressed wood, when the sound of laughter filtered through.

  I bit my bottom lip. I wanted to burst in and see who was making him laugh, but I remembered my position, so I held back. Simply put—none of it was my business. Gently, I tapped on the door, but no one answered, so I decided to walk away, leaving the bags with Summer when I heard a glass break. Quickly, I burst into the room and found Ryder and the beautiful owner of the stilettos heels crouched over the broken glass and spilled coffee engaged it what seemed to me to be a moment.

  "Uh…" the sound was all I could muster.

  Ryder looked up—his eyes widening like a dog trapped in a corner or a husband who'd just been caught cheating. "Hannah, I thought you left."

  "You did, didn't you?"

  He stood up. "This is CJ, she's my new—"

  My eyebrow perked. "Your new what?"

  CJ stood up and walked toward me with her hand held out. "I'm his new personal assistant. And you are?"

  The words hung in the air like a black cloud, making me relive every moment this man had rejected me.

  "Hannah?" CJ asked again.

  "I—I'm his—"

  I couldn’t bring myself to admit what I was or wasn’t to him, because if I were truly honest with myself—I had no idea. Was I his friend? Hardly. Was I his assistant? Apparently not. Was I his tenant? Not for much longer the way things were going. I was nothing.

  My eyes darted between the two of them, the embarrassment washing over me like a dark veil.

  Ryder stood up. "Hannah's an old friend and a tenant."

  And there it was. The truth. The ugly fucking truth. "Yeah, just an old friend and a tenant."

  CJ looked confused by the tension but nodded anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Hannah." She stood up and took a step toward me.

  Mirroring her step, I took a step back, holding up my hand. "No, no, please. I was just coming to give Mr. Thorne my notice." I turned and walked out the door, heading down the hall as quickly as my heels could carry me.

  Ryder followed closely behind, grabbing my shoulder. He spun me so fast I dropped my purse. I looked down at the contents of my bag spilled out over the floor, then back at him. He was staring intently into my eyes like no one else in the world existed but him and me.

  "What do you mean notice?" he asked, gripping my shoulder tightly.

  "Do you need a dictionary?" I asked, trying to hold down the lump forming in my throat.

  "Notice for what? This job?"

  "For everything," I replied through tight lips. "The apartment, the job, the friendship."

  "You can't."

  "You did."

  "That was different."

  I kneeled down to pick up my scattered belongings. "How was that different?"

  He knelt down as well, picking up my compact and wallet, sliding them into my purse. Our hands touched, and we both paused for a moment—our eyes locking.

  "Everything okay here?" Summer asked.

  Tightening my grip on my purse, I shot to my feet and backed away from him. "Everything is just fine, now." I brushed by her, heading for the elevator.

  Chapter Ten

  RYDER

  My heart dropped, and my mouth went dry as I watched her disappear behind the closing metal doors.

  I was still kneeling on the floor when Summer asked, "Are you just gonna stay down there, or are you gonna go get her?"

  "Go get her?"

  "I know you're a man, but shit, you can't be that dense."

  "Summer, I've told you to stop—"

  "No, I'm not gonna let you make the same mistake you made last year."

  "It's none of your business," I said, standing from the floor.

  "It's totally my business."

  "And how's that?"

  She rested her hands on her hips. "I'm the one that's gonna have to deal with you and your bruised ego, and dare I say it…"

  "Say what?"

  "You're bruised heart."

  "My heart. Never."

  She threw her hands in the air. "Hell, what do I know? Do what you want, but I don’t wanna hear shit about Hannah, and I definitely don't want any attitude thrown my way every time CJ walks in, and she's not Hannah." Summer's eyes widened. "CJ."

  I whipped around to the face of a woman whose world looked like it was just ripped out from underneath her. "CJ, this isn't about you, really it isn't."

  "I'll be going now," she replied solemnly.

  Summer moved out of the way. "I'm sorry you had to hear all that, CJ."

  "I'm not." She brushed by, leaving me alone with Summer.

  "Well, you certainly have a knack with women. I don't think I've ever seen so many walk out on a man in the span of a few minutes in my life."

  "I find that hard to believe," I whispered, hands on my hips, looking down at the floor.

  "Let me add to your stats." Her heels clicked away until I could no longer hear them.

  Fuck, me.

  I pulled out my phone and called Jace.

  The phone rang once, then twice. "Sir?"

  "Did you see her leave?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Which way did she go?"

  "I tried to offer her a ride, but she waved me off. It looked like she was crying."

  The anxiety in my stomach flared. "Tell me which way she went."

  "She headed toward Claremont Street."

  "She's headed home. Have the car ready; I'll meet you downstairs."

  "Yes, sir."

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and headed for the elevator, passing Summer's desk on the way out. "Where are you going?"

  "I'm gonna go get her."

  "That's my boy."

  I whipped around, giving her a hard glare. Quickly, she looked back down at her paperwork, fighting to keep a smile at bay. Stepping into the elevator, I pushed the lobby button and impatiently waited for the doors to close.

  The elevator car quickly descended and dinged open to the bustling lobby. I hurried outside and jumped in the back of my car. "Step on it."

  Jace pressed on the gas and pulled out into the traffic. I
happened to catch sight of his eyes staring back at me through the rearview mirror.

  "What?"

  "She's a great girl, you know."

  "Don't you think I know that?"

  "I didn’t know she was spoken for, but I can see why you have."

  I shook my head, peering out the window, hoping to catch sight of her. "I haven't spoken for her. I just wanna make sure she's okay."

  "May I speak freely?"

  "It seems like you already are."

  "She's beautiful—smart—funny."

  "Your point?"

  "Everything I'd want in a woman."

  I turned back to him, staring directly into the rearview mirror. "You're crossing a line."

  "All I'm saying is, women like her don't come along every day—maybe once in a lifetime. Don't screw it up."

  "Why does everyone seem to think they can talk to me any which way today?"

  "I think it's because we all see what you refuse to."

  "And what's that?" I asked, snidely.

  "That you care for her."

  Turning back to look out the window, I tried my best to digest what he'd just told me—what Summer had just told me. Shit, what Regan had been telling me all these years.

  I knew I loved her like family, but could I possibly love her for something more than that? Jace swerved in and out of traffic as my mind wandered.

  "But…" his words trailed.

  "But what?"

  "If you aren't interested, like you say you aren't, then—"

  "Then what?" I growled.

  "I've never met someone like her—she has this, this—"

  "Gravity," I blurted out.

  He laughed a little, nodding his head. "Right. Gravity. At least you know you feel it."

  I stared out the window as the familiar buildings of my old neighborhood stirred up nostalgia in me I couldn't hold down with a damn two-ton elephant. There was the corner where I gave her our first hug, which ended up being a little too long to be nothing less than magic.

  And there, only a few streets away, was where I spied her kissing another man goodnight. It was only a peck, but I remember how pissed I was and, childishly, I didn’t speak to her for a few days after.

  So many goddam memories on these few streets alone, I wondered what would come flooding back the minute I stepped into the old apartment. Probably the last day we were together—the moment we shared.

  "We're almost there. Just drop me off in front, and I'll call you when I'm ready."

  "Do you think you'll be long?"

  "Do you have somewhere to be?" I asked, annoyed with his question. "I pay you to be where I need you to be."

  "It's not that, sir. It's just—"

  "Just what?"

  "What if you two make up?"

  "Your point?"

  He tilted his head to the side, perking his brow. "You know? Make up!"

  "It's not like that with Hannah. She's different. Special."

  "Gravitational."

  "Right, gravita—no, no. Stop putting shit in my head."

  He shrugged his shoulders then slowed to a stop in front of the familiar building where I'd spent so many years living with her. Stepping out of the car, I adjusted my shirt, and combed my fingers through my hair, before closing the door behind me.

  "Good luck," Jace yelled out before the door slammed shut.

  Luck my ass.

  I took the first step onto the sidewalk, smelling the same distinct aroma that only that side of town offered. It was a blend of coffee and pastries, with a tinge of home. Secretly, I loved the smell and took the opportunity to inhale a deep breath.

  It took me back to college with Hannah, and Regan—the three musketeers, that's what we called ourselves. Regan, the handsome poet. Hannah, the sweet and innocent glue that held us all together. Then there was me. The asshole. The asshole with money, who only cared about my own wants and needs.

  Shit, I was still that guy. It's the reason I was having to chase after a woman I should've probably already married and given a house and a ring too. Clearing my throat, I headed for the main entrance, pulling the door open to the unchanged lobby.

  Mental note, remodel this building—like yesterday.

  I walked to the elevator like I'd done a million times before. Pressing the button, I thought about what I would say when I got up there? What would be enough to make up for all that I'd done? Would anything ever be enough?

  I was tired of standing between what my heart needed and what my head thought it wanted.

  Clicking on the elevator button, the door dinged but didn’t open.

  What the fuck?

  So I pushed the button again, but again, nothing happened.

  "This place is falling to shit."

  I stepped to my left to walk through the stairwell entrance, annoyed that I'd let the building get to the point it was at because I was too pig-headed to come by. Running up the stairs, I skipped a few steps here and there a little excited to see her under different circumstances.

  It was a little odd to have her work for me after all our unresolved issues, and at least being in our old apartment together would ease the tension. Well, at least that's what I thought.

  As I climbed the staircase, I could see the familiar door, closing off the apartment I used to call home. Finally, at the top of the stairs, I stood in front of the door, waiting, breathing, thinking, then breathing some more.

  What was I supposed to say to her? I'd left her. Replaced her. Treated her like a backup plan. I was an asshole then, and I had the nerve to be jealous when another man showed her some interest. Who the fuck did I think I was?

  I balled my fist up, knocked on the door, and waited. There was no answer. I knocked again, this time a little louder, growing impatient as the seconds ticked by. I was about to step away when Regan's voice wafted through my mind. I knew this would be my last chance with Hannah. If I let her go this time, there was no way she would ever come back to me.

  I gave it one last go, knocking on the door like I was some sort of bill collector. A slight woman passed by, walking her little dog, sneering at me with disdain. The cringe in her nose was somehow familiar? Had I slept with her before, and left before saying goodbye? The hate in her eyes let me know I'd wronged her in some way, I just couldn't put my finger on it. So, I decided to ask, especially since I prided myself on being an upfront kind of guy. Some might even say an asshole.

  "What's wrong with you?" I growled.

  "That woman is wrong with me."

  Well, at least I knew it wasn't me who had wronged her. But Hannah? What could Hannah have done? "And why's that?" I asked.

  "She just mopes and plays sad songs all the time. We share an air vent or something because that's all I ever hear. It's about as annoying as all hell. Whoever screwed her over is one major dick, but that's just my opinion."

  I perked an eyebrow. "A dick, huh?"

  "Are you that dick?" she sassed, resting her hand on her hip.

  On a different day, I would've let her know what kind of dick I was, but I didn’t have the time or the patience to respond to her question with any sort of filter—so I just kept my mouth shut. Shrugging her shoulders, she continued down the stairwell with her tiny pet, trying its best to keep up with her.

  Even though I wanted to give the woman a piece of my mind, her words resonated with me. How could I have known that leaving would've caused her that much anguish? It's not like I was a fucking mind reader. And she was certainly able to pick up a phone and call me as well.

  Fuck!

  All this emotional shit was starting to hurt my head. I turned and slowly headed down the stairs, hoping I wouldn't run into the old woman again. Having my ass chewed out once was enough for one afternoon. Walking through the lobby entrance, I found Jace leaning against the car, with his arms crossed, the sun beating down against his half twisted grin.

  "What's that look for?"

  "She toss you out?"

  "No." I shook my head,
reaching for the door. "She wasn't even there."

  Jace reached the door before I could, pulling it open as he stood behind it. "You really need to find her."

  I paused before sliding in. "No, shit."

  He closed the door just as I took my seat, pulling out my phone to call her. I dialed her number, and let the phone ring, but she didn’t reply. I dialed again, pressing the buttons even harder—like that was really going to make her answer.

  Where the fuck is she?

  "Where do you want me to go, Mr. Thorne?"

  "Fuck! I don't know!" I hollered from the back seat.

  From the rearview mirror, I could see him lowering his gaze.

  "I'm sorry, Jace. It's not you; I'm just frustrated at the situation."

  "I understand. Back to the office?"

  Summer would be at the office, probably hounding me for information on what had happened.

  "No, take me home."

  "You got it."

  Chapter Eleven

  HANNAH

  I couldn't believe

  I let that fucker do me dirty twice. First time shame on him, but definitely the second time shame on me. What was so great about him anyway? Sure, he was handsome as all hell and as rough around the edges as a wild animal—but it's not like he was the only fish in the sea.

  There must've been others—men just as good-looking and who could make me wet with just one look. Right?

  Fuck, me.

  I crossed my arms, trying to keep as much of the warmth my body had left as the evening wind had begun to pick up. The minute I stormed out on Ryder, I just started walking—not really thinking where I was headed.

  My apartment would remind me too much of him—of us. It wasn’t something I was prepared to deal with at that moment. My shoes shuffled against the gray concrete sidewalk, which I began to realize no long resembled a busy city street, but more like a small, residential walkway.

  I lifted my gaze from the ground, looking at huge mansion-style homes, rather than mountains of brick and mortar, edging up to dirty alleyways and metal dumpsters.

  I recognized the area. It was Ryder's neighborhood. It was like out of a damn Hallmark movie. I hadn't planned on walking to his house—hell, I hadn’t even realized I knew how to get there. I'd only ever been there via the kind old taxi cab driver, so I wondered if I’d committed it to memory—just because?