Talking Dirty with the CEO - By Jackie Ashenden Page 0,62

was another ADHD problem. But he’d never had this issue when it came to calling it off with a woman.

Oh no, it had always been easy. Painless.

Not with Christie. With her it was neither easy nor painless.

For three days he’d listened to her calls. Seen every one of her texts. Felt like the biggest bastard in the world. Knowing that calling her back and telling her it was over was what he needed to do.

Yet still he hadn’t managed to do it. The thought hurt in ways he’d never anticipated.

Joseph reached down and closed his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away. “The night of your parents’ party I was supposed to meet my sister for dinner.”

She frowned. “Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It was her birthday.”

“Joseph—”

“But I wasn’t there, was I? I was with you instead. Because I forgot about her.”

Color crept into her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop bloody apologizing. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” Anger twisted inside him, bright and sharp.

“But if you hadn’t been with me—”

“Stop it,” he interrupted, harsh and unable to prevent it. “The fault isn’t with you. It’s with me.” He took a breath. “I’ve got an ADHD-type thing, which means I get distracted easily. I also have difficulty with remembering things. Like important dates.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, okay?”

Christie stared at him. “ADHD? That’s attention deficit—”

“Attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder.”

“But I thought only kids had it?”

“No. Adults, too. I usually have reminders and things in my phone and at work to help keep me on track. But of course that relies on me actually checking my phone.” Which he hadn’t done. Watching her with her parents, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else.

Her throat moved. “I distracted you that night.”

Joseph turned away, going over to the windows, pausing, then continuing on down to the end of the office and back again. He wanted to tell her that she hadn’t and that it didn’t matter, that Jude was used to him forgetting things. But both of those things were lies. And he couldn’t lie to her. Christie deserved more than that from him.

He turned back to her. “Yeah,” he said bluntly. “You did. Jude’s my little sister and she’s put up with my crap for years. And I hate…disappointing her.”

“I—I could come with you and explain things to her?” Christie’s face had gone pale.

He gave a short, harsh laugh. “Thanks, honey, I but I don’t need you to make my excuses for me.”

An awkward silence fell.

Her expression was full of sympathy. As if she wanted to hug him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“But you’re angry.”

“You’re goddamned right I’m angry. I’ve been letting my sister down for years and I hate it.”

Red lashes, the color shot with gold, fluttered over her pale skin. “If it makes any difference I’m glad you came with me last night. I couldn’t…couldn’t have faced my parents without you.”

“Bullshit, Christie. That strength, it’s been inside you all along. You would have found it yourself one day.”

She took a step toward him. “Maybe. Or maybe not. But you were the one who showed me it was there.”

On the couch his phone beeped again. Another reminder. But he didn’t even bother looking at it this time.

Christie’s gaze had a liquid glint to it. And she was looking at him the way some women did, as if he was everything they ever wanted and more.

And he knew it was too late. That he was going to hurt her.

He turned again, pacing away from her, going over to the windows. His hands squeezed the ball. Squeezed hard. “I say a lot of things, Christie. Most of which I hardly even pay attention to myself.”

He could feel her behind him, the familiar scent of lavender and musk surrounding him. It made him ache with longing.

“You didn’t mean them, then?” An underlying thread of pain in her voice.

He wanted to say no. Anything that would push her away. Because he couldn’t handle this tightness in his chest. This ache in his throat.

It would be easier to deny it. To cut her off now. Be cruel. Be harsh. So that she wouldn’t ever come near him again.

But the thought was unbearable.

He stopped pacing. Turned from the window. She stood just behind him, all her guards down, the naked vulnerability stark in her face. So lovely. Jude had asked if she was special, and she was. Guarded and geeky and

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