Mr. Romantic: A Mister Standalone (The Mister Series Book 2) by J.A. Huss

our habits. Our guilt.”
    “The Misters.”
    “Right,” I say. “Do you know why they call me Mr. Romantic?”
    “Claudette said it was ironic. Like your book title.”
    “That’s not why. I—” But I shut the fuck up. I hear Match in my head. Just shut the fuck up until my friend gets here . He’ll know what to do . And so we did shut the fuck up. We didn’t even tell each other what happened that night. No one knew what I was doing. I don’t know what they were doing. None of us had alibis, because that stupid bitch was our alibi. Every single one of us.
    “She set us up, Ivy. Set us up. Someone was pulling her strings, but we never figured out who. There’s enough enemies to go around, I guess. But I didn’t do anything wrong that night. Not one goddamned thing.”
    She looks down at her plate and lets out a long breath. “Sorry for mentioning it.”
    Sorry. She’s one of those girls. Sorry. The confrontation makes her uncomfortable. Well, I’m not an apologizer. And I love confrontation. “Don’t be sorry for me. It’s a waste of time.”
    “I’m not hungry,” she says, pushing away from the table. “I’m going to bed. If you want to hire me tomorrow, well, fine. I’ll talk about it. But I’m done talking tonight.”
    I stand up and put my napkin on my plate, our food hardly touched. “Hey,” I say, taking her hand and placing it on my arm, the way I did when I walked her over here. “I’ll walk you back. And I ’ ll still fuck you tonight, Ivy. Still give you the option to suck my cock. Because once I pay you for your time, it will never happen again.”
    She slaps me in the face and walks out.
     
     

Chapter Fourteen - Ivy
     

    My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I might pass out. I push my way throughout the maze of tables, trying to get out of there before it happens, trying to get fresh air before I suffocate from the conversation I just had with a very fucked-up man.
    But Nolan grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop. “What was that for? Why the fuck did you hit me?”
    I jerk my arm away and place my hand over my eyes, swaying slightly. I’m going to faint . I hear the words in my head, and that shakes some sense into me.
    I am not going to faint.
    “I’m sorry. The heat. I’m not used to it. I feel dizzy, I want to go lie down.” I jerk away from him and walk out of the restaurant, straight through the back doors, and out into the pool area. I want to jump in so bad, but my feet keep walking. Right around it, towards the private bungalows. When I look over my shoulder as I enter the narrow walkway surrounded on all sides with palm trees, Nolan is following.
    I look forward again, urging my feet to go faster. But the water in the private pool looks too good to just pass by. The sun is just setting, the light is dim, but not dark. And I know if I hang out just a few more minutes, it will completely slip away and leave me alone.
    How do people live out here in this heat?
    It’s not the heat, Ivy. It’s him you need to get away from .
    I reach my bungalow, open the door, and practically throw myself across the threshold. Inhaling the cool AC and dropping into a chair.
    “Ivy?” Nolan knocks on the door. “What the fuck is happening?”
    “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
    He goes away. I know it. I don’t need to get up and look. I just sit there in the chair and breathe deeply.
    Why did I slap him?
    Because he said he wanted to fuck me?
    Wasn’t that why I came here?
    And he’s offering me a job tomorrow.
    Wasn’t that what I really wanted? Both the job and the sex?
    It was. But not anymore. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know anything. I don’t understand this man, I don’t trust him, and I don’t think I should say anything else to him. At all.
    By the time I calm down the room is dark. I make out shadows of furniture. A love seat, the bedroom door, the little kitchenette.
    The bag on the other chair that holds the bathing suit I bought