The Rivals - Vi Keeland Page 0,63

without ever getting to know you. Underneath the asshole exterior you wear so proudly is a really beautiful man.”

Weston stared off at nothing in particular. “You’re a good person, and good people look for the good in everyone.”

“So? What’s wrong with that? Is that such a bad thing? Wanting to find good?”

He turned back to look at me and smiled sadly. “It shouldn’t be. But it skews what you see. Sometimes what people are showing you is really who they are.”

I thought he was wrong. But I knew there was no point in arguing. I looked down and traced his scar again. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Because everything you’ve asked me in the last ten minutes—or the last few weeks, for that matter—hasn’t been?”

I laughed and smacked his abs. “Shut up, Lockwood.”

He smiled. “What’s your question, nosy?”

“Do you talk about these things with the therapist you go to? About losing your sister and how you felt responsible for her well-being?”

Weston frowned. “I go to the shrink because it’s a condition of keeping my job. I’m not there to be fixed.”

Silence stretched between us until eventually Weston cleared his throat. “I’m going to get going. I have to visit a friend this morning.”

“Oh… Okay.”

I shifted to my side so he could get up and watched as he got dressed. I wasn’t sure if Weston really had somewhere to go or if our conversation had made him uncomfortable enough that he had the urge to flee. Either way, the air in the room had shifted. I pulled the sheet up to my shoulders to ward off the chill.

Weston leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you later?”

I forced a smile. “Sure.”

A minute later, the door clicked closed. I lie in bed by myself, going over the last twenty-four hours. Sex with Weston was beyond a doubt the most amazing physical experience I’d ever had with a man. We had undeniable chemistry. I’d thought the intense spark came from the push and pull of our antagonistic feuding, but last night, there was no feud, and our connection and chemistry were more intense than ever. So maybe there was more to it than taking out our pent-up frustrations on each other.

For some reason, that thought made me nervous. Was I gun-shy after what happened between Liam and me? Or was my inner self-protective mechanism giving me a warning that had everything to do with Weston Lockwood?

It was a lot to think about. Luckily, my cell phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting what I was about to overanalyze. Scarlett’s name flashed on the screen, making me smile.

“Good morning,” she said. With just those two simple words, I could tell she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No. I’m just lying here in bed, all by my lonesome, being lazy.”

“All by your lonesome?”

I laughed. I knew what she was getting at. Scarlett didn’t do subtle. “Yes, Weston just left a few minutes ago.”

“Perfect. Then open the door.”

My forehead wrinkled. “What door?”

A knock rang out in surround sound. It came through the phone and also from the other room of my suite. “This one. And hurry. Our breakfast is getting cold.”

***

“So…anything interesting happen after I got off the elevator?” Scarlett’s eyes twinkled.

I picked a piece of pineapple from the plate of fresh fruit and shoved the entire thing into my mouth. Pointing, I mumbled as if I couldn’t respond because my mouth was full.

Scarlett laughed. “That’s what I thought. Weston couldn’t keep his eyes off of you all night at the club.”

I sighed. “We definitely have good chemistry.”

“That’s it? Just good chemistry?”

I shook my head. “I honestly have no idea anymore. It started out as purely physical—we were basically hate-fucking, Scarlett. But things have changed. He’s still a pain in my ass, but there’s more to him than he wants people to see. Like, he goes out of his way to make me laugh. He knows my ex was a playwright, so he recites these Shakespearean quotes, only he turns them dirty. Like, It’s better to have been fucked once than never have been fucked at all, or To come or not to come, that is the question. I just know he sits at his desk reading Shakespeare so I’ll crack a little smile. It’s oddly sweet.”

Scarlett swiped a grape and popped it into her mouth. “So he’s handsome, thoughtful, and funny. Sounds awful.”

“He’s also very protective of the people he cares about, though he doesn’t seem to let