work out how we’ll handle today’s mishap.”
She doesn’t look away from Talent, and a little color returns to his complexion. Inez allows me to guide her toward the door, but she doesn’t leave without trapping me in a corner first.
“Before I go.” She lifts a finger in the air. A conniving grin spreads across her face, and she says, “We need to finish our conversation about Camilla. It’s a situation in dire need of our attention and it can’t wait. I’m sure Talent won’t mind if we sit down and work this out before I leave.”
I could strangle her, but instead I clench my teeth and insist everything can wait.
“No, I don’t think it can.” Inez digs her feet into the carpet. “The poor girl is all alone, Lydia. She needs our help.”
“Fine,” I say in a clipped tone. At this point, I’d agree to anything to get her to leave and hope I can talk her out of it in the morning.
Inez steps outside, and as the door closes in her face, she says, “I’ll bring her by sometime tomorrow.”
Barefoot and only dressed in the oversized shirt I sleep in, I can’t help but wonder how this picture must look to Inez. He shows up with food and I don’t have pants on. Will she think Talent and I are in a relationship? She’s never known me to have friends, let alone a date—not that this is a date, but looks are deceiving.
Or will her assumptions be graver? Will she think I’ve made some sort of side deal with Talent? Surely, a man as esteemed as he wouldn’t show up to a slut’s apartment without motive. She claims to trust me, but trust is fickle in our world.
“She seems … nice,” Talent says before biting into an eggroll. He’s a polite eater, chewing with his mouth closed and swallowing before adding, “Do you want me to make you a plate?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask. They’re the only words I can find and piece together from my jumbled brain. There are plenty of other things I’d like to say, such as, how do you know Chinese food is my favorite? What happened last night? And did you wear that hoodie to seduce me on purpose?
Talent has the decency to look confused. Lines form between his eyebrows as he opens my fridge and grabs a bottle of water like he’s done it before. “You invited me.”
“Liar.”
“Lydia, I wouldn’t show up to your apartment with your favorite food if you hadn’t asked me to.” He takes a drink of water, glaring at me darkly over the bottle. “I messaged you earlier to see if you wanted to cancel, but you didn’t text me back, so I assumed we were cool. You should have told me your fucking keeper was going to be here.”
I think back to the text I deleted without reading but dismiss my own responsibility in this as hot anger rises inside of me. There’s not a chance in hell I’d invite him over. No one besides Inez has ever been inside my apartment, and now Talent fucking Ridge knows his way around my kitchen.
He drops his fork and laughs. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious,” I answer.
The muscles in his jaw clench, and he shakes his head. “I know you were drunk last night, but I didn’t think it was like that.”
The truth is, I don’t remember much after Talent and I returned to our table after we had sex in the alleyway. There’s a vague recollection of sitting on his lap until the band wrapped up their set, we ordered food, and we kissed until the bar thinned out and it was time to go. Then it’s dark. My next coherent thought was when I woke up in my bed this morning.
Talent’s face relaxes with my silence, and he says, “I didn’t want you taking a taxi alone at three in the morning, so you agreed to share one with me. You fell asleep as soon as we got in the cab. The driver needed your address, and when I asked for it, you tossed your purse on my lap and said to look at your driver’s license.”
Closing my eyes as tears threaten to spill, I hold my breath to keep from screaming. If he knows my address, then he knows my last name, too.
He comes around the kitchen counter and stands six feet in front of me to explain, “When we got here, I offered