SweetlyBad by Anya Breton Page A

roads? I’m not smart but I’m not that
helpless.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that.”
    He shifted his weight onto the foot braced behind him. “Then
what did you mean it like?”
    “I don’t think you’re helpless and I’m sure you’re smart—”
    Drew snorted in disgust.
    “I mean…” She glanced to the television and then back as
though she’d find inspiration there. “You were really good on the phone today.”
    He was good on the phone ? Had women always stroked
his ego so conspicuously? And he’d bought it? “Just tell me the truth,
Erica.”
    She exhaled heavily, closing her eyes as she did. When they
opened again she was ready with an answer. “I thought I’d never see you or my
car again.”
    He stared at her for five silent seconds. “What?” The tone
that came out of his mouth could only be described as glacial.
    To her credit, Erica winced. But she didn’t give an
explanation.
    “Why did you give me your keys if you thought that?”
    “I didn’t worry until after you left.”
    He slumped against the wall, thrusting a hand into his hair.
It would have been through his hair if his fingers hadn’t gotten caught
in the tangled mess his locks had become. Perhaps that was a metaphor for his
life. Yes, it too was a tangled mess.
    He wished he could scoff at her and say she was crazy.
Shamefully, he had considered taking her car to Manchester. It had been
a selfish urge to get his old life back. Then he’d recalled his life—the
constant hopping from woman to woman and the complete lack of meaning.
    Above all, he remembered his mother’s simultaneous faith and
disgust. Amanda thought him so beyond reach that she’d resorted to stripping
him of everything to get through to him. The message had been received. He
couldn’t go back to Manchester with or without his Ferrari until he turned his
life around.
    So he’d videoed Erica’s ex sabotaging her garage and her work, and then he traveled back so he could share the evidence with her,
only to find her shocked at his return. Here he’d thought she’d be so happy
he’d ferreted out the culprit in her mystery that she’d ask him to stay.
    Wait. When had he thought that ? Erica wasn’t about to
ask him to stay. She’d met him yesterday . Maybe she’d let him stay the
night—the one-night stand she’d agreed to. But come tomorrow, she’d tow his car
to Boston exactly as she’d said.
    Yesterday he’d wanted to be away from this two-bar town more
than anything. Tonight was another story. And tomorrow? He could hardly imagine
what he’d think but strangely, he wanted to be here to find out.
    At the very least Drew had to stick around until Jared was
behind bars. Then and only then would Erica be safe.
     
    Erica nibbled her lower lip. He sounded angry. Drew had
bitched and moaned yesterday when she picked up his car but he hadn’t been
angry. Even during the conversation with his mother, the many women after and
the attack in the garage, Drew had been defensive, desperate and agitated. But
not angry.
    Why was he angry now?
    “Whatever you may think of me, I’m not a thief,” he said. “A
playboy, an asshole, a snob—I’m all of these. But I’m not going to steal my
mechanic’s car and strand her miles from her business. If I really wanted your
car, I’d give you a pretty story about why I needed it that would persuade you
to let me have it. But I wouldn’t steal it.” Drew walked to the edge of the
living area and leaned against her stuffed chair. “Like the trip to get my
luggage. It was a story. I didn’t really want my clothes. I would have rather
walked around your house nude so you’d decide you wanted to fuck me again. I
went out because I thought your ex was up to something and I hoped I could
figure it out.” Drew shook his phone at her. “Lo and behold, I got way more
than I bargained for.”
    Erica glanced between his face and the phone. “This is about
you thinking he’s sabotaging me?”
    “He is