Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,212

whole world is judging me for sending a semi-nude selfie to a guy I cared about. Care about. Or was starting to care about, anyway.

I shake my head, and clear my throat, because Zayne still hasn’t said anything. “Well?” I ask.

He finally lifts his head, eyes wide. “Clove…”

“I only sent that photo to one person,” I say, my voice getting louder, heated. “My phone has been with me ever since. I really don’t see how else anyone could’ve found that photo, unless…” My throat closes up. I can’t finish that sentence.

He doesn’t make me. His eyes meet mine, serious and heavy. “Unless I sent it to them.”

I swallow around the lump that’s forming. “Did you?”

“Clove…”

I close my eyes. I can’t watch him. Can’t make eye contact, not if he’s about to tell me that he just fucked over my entire life, all for some sick revenge porn scheme.

His hand closes around mine, and I flinch involuntarily, because that touch still floods me with desire, a heat that’s impossible to ignore.

“I would never, ever do something like that to you. Or to anyone, really. But especially not you.”

I open my eyes. Find him staring straight at me, his expression still as deadly serious as ever. I nod, and blink hard as my eyes sting once more, threatening tears again. “But…”

He shakes his head, squeezes my fingers tighter. “We’re going to fix this, Clove.”

“How?” The tears threaten to sting at my eyes again. “My company is already trying to track down this person. Whoever did this, they were smart. Really smart. They covered their tracks, and if a professional in the industry can’t find them, there’s no way we can.”

“Sure we can.” His eyes go hard and distant, focused on the window outside instead of me now. “Because I know who it is.”

I tug at my hand, freeing my fingers from his, startled by the sudden fierce anger in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s only one person who would do this. One person who’s already done this before.”

“What are you talking about?” I shake my head. “Zayne, you’re scaring me a little bit.” I’ve never seen him look like this, so intense and furious. It’s not directed at me, but still. Who knew what kind of anger was hiding underneath his bright, smiling exterior?

“There’s… This has happened to women I’ve dated before.”

My shoulders tense. Now I feel some of that anger flooding over into me. “Wait. You’re saying you knew this was a possibility?”

“I didn’t know that—”

“Women who have sent you sexts before have had their photos leaked publicly?” I press on, leaning into the table, eyes on his.

He meets my gaze reluctantly. “A couple of times, yes.”

“And you didn’t think you should tell me that before you asked me to send you a half-naked selfie in a bar bathroom the other night?” I lower my voice to a hiss, all too aware of the other customers in here, the stares we’re already starting to attract, because even at whisper-volume, I can’t contain the fury in my tone.

“It hasn’t happened in years, so I thought—”

“Who is it?” I interrupt.

“Clove, I can’t—”

“Who is doing this to me? You must know, if you’re the one the leak is coming from. Did they hack into your phone, whoever it is?” A sudden, horrible realization sinks into my stomach. “Oh, god. Are you involved with someone? Are you cheating on them, is that why?”

“What? Clove, no, of course not, you saw my apartment.”

True. That was a bachelor pad if ever I’ve set foot in one.

“How can you accuse me of that?” He shakes his head, genuine hurt in his eyes.

But I can’t sit here and listen to this from the man who just knowingly let me walk straight into a trap. Whether the person doing this to him is in the wrong or not, he knew about it all along. He knew and let me fall for it.

I push my chair back and surge to my feet. “If you won’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to have to find out myself.”

“Clove, please, let me handle it. I’ll talk to her.”

“Her, huh?” I lift an eyebrow and skewer him with another glower. “Well, while you’re doing that, why don’t you have a long think about why you don’t even trust me enough to tell me about my new stalker, too.” Without another word, I snatch up my purse and sweep out of the restaurant, shoulders squared against the outside air.

8

It’s a nice day outside,