Sex Addict

by Brooke Blaine

  How on earth was she ever going to face him again? Not only that, but face him and act as if she hadn’t followed him like a crazy woman and seen him conversing and God knows what else with a hooker.

  As that word rolled through her mind, the nausea started again.

  She needed to pull her shit together. She was Reagan Spencer, she had a kickass career, and she ate men for breakfast. She wasn’t some lovesick, wilting flower who stayed at home eating ice cream over a guy…

  Well, at least the last half was true.

  She walked over to her dresser and looked in the mirror at her sad reflection, determined to turn it around. She would not let Evan James control her emotions any longer.

  Deciding a day at the spa might just help in revamping her overall attitude, she set out with one thing in mind. It was time to stop hiding from her past, from who she really was, and the first thing that had to go was the woman who’d taken Evan into her home and bed this past Friday night.

  It was time for a brand-new start.

  * * *

  “WOW, MS. SPENCER, you look great,” Amy said as Reagan sauntered into the lobby of Kelman Corporations on Wednesday morning. With a facial and a new ’do to match, she felt confident and reenergized. At least on the outside. She was still waiting for the inside to catch up a bit, but she planned to fake it till she made it.

  “Thank you, Amy. Is Bill in yet?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he arrived about twenty minutes ago.”

  Reagan gave an acknowledging smile and pushed through the main entrance, not bothering to drop her things off before knocking on Bill’s office door.

  “Come in,” he called out.

  When she walked inside, Bill looked up and gave an appreciative whistle. “Now there’s the Reagan I haven’t seen for years.”

  “Well, I thought it was time for a change. Do you approve?”

  “I do. The blond was nice, but you know I’m a sucker for a brunette.” He winked and set his pen down. “You feeling better?”

  Taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, she set down her briefcase and said, “I am. Just a bit of a head cold. Made things foggy for a few days.”

  “I see.”

  She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, carefully choosing her next words. “I just wanted to check in with you regarding Evan’s probation. You said to let you know when he’s ready to fly solo. I think now is the perfect time.”

  Bill raised his eyebrows. “No doubts about his ability to provide superior performance without your supervision?”

  Oh, I have no fucking doubts about his unsupervised performances without me.

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Hmm.” Bill leaned back and rocked in his chair, and Reagan struggled to keep her face nonchalant under his scrutiny.

  “I’ve spoken with several of the high-profile clients he’s been working with during his time here, and even those he left on disagreeable terms have all agreed that he’s proven himself more than capable of handling their accounts.”

  “So it’s time to kick him out of the nest and see how he flies.”

  Oh, I’d love to kick him, all right.

  “I think that’s best for everyone.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Bill asked, “And that’s what’s best for you too?”

  “I don’t think Evan needs me watching his every move any more, and honestly, I’ve got a full plate as it is. He’ll be just fine.”

  A few silent moments passed, and then Bill inclined his head. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up today and let him know.”

  She stood, picked up her briefcase, and headed to the door. As she opened it, she turned back and saw Bill giving her a fond smile.

  “I really do like the hair. And your dad is gonna love it.”

  With a soft laugh, knowing he was right, she waved and walked out the door, calling, “Thanks, Bill.”

  * * *

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Reagan was seated at her desk and sorting through her inbox. Her first task had been deleting the email reminders from Mr. James last week. No need to keep them around as evidence of her lack of judgment.

  She then moved on to the overwhelming amount of junk she had to sift through. That was the one downside to taking days off—the monumental task of catching up. After deleting what wasn’t needed, she was just about to click open a request for a meeting from their clients over at Whitehead International when there was a brisk knock on her office door.

  She called out for the person to come in, and reached for her phone to dial the company’s number.

  As Evan entered, he stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of her, and then looked around the room before letting his eyes fall back on her.

  “Oh…I’m sorry, I was looking for Ms. Reagan Spencer. Have you seen her?”

  The humor in his voice surrounded her, and when Reagan locked eyes with him where he stood, she steeled herself against what was to come. Without cracking a smile, she looked back to the phone and told him, “She’s busy. Do you need something, Evan?”

  She knew she sounded waspish, and hated that she couldn’t play it cool, but the minute she’d seen him her intentions of being the put-together woman who didn’t give a damn flew out the window.

  “I can come back,” he said, and she heard him walking farther into the office.

  “I’m going to be tied up all day today. Is there something specific you wanted?”

  “Speaking of ties—”

  “We’re not speaking about ties.”

  When he stopped in front of her desk, she willed herself to put on her best impartial face and glanced up at him.

  “Okay…well, to answer your initial question, I don’t need anything in particular, no. But I’ve been trying to reach you for the past three days, and all I got was your voicemail. If you hadn’t come in today I was going to send out a search party.”

  She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and explained as quickly and impersonally as possible, “I’ve been sick. I slept the last few days. That’s all.”

  “Sick, huh? Well, for someone who’s been sick as a dog, you look fucking stunning.”

  She tried not to let his compliment go any deeper than the surface, but could feel it seeping through the cracks of her resolve. She needed to get away from him—now.

  “Thanks. Just thought I’d switch things up a bit. If that’s all…”

  She could see in his eyes that the wheels in his mind were turning, trying to work out why she was doing everything she could to get rid of him, but instead of asking, he gave a slight smile and started to back away.

  “Okay, I can take a hint. But for the record, your hair looks great that dark. Really suits you.”

  As he left the office and shut the door with a soft click, she had to wonder if he realized he’d seen her hair that way many times before.

  * * *

  MID-AFTERNOON, REAGAN made her way down the hall toward Katrina’s office with the files she’d requested on the client she’d met with yesterday. She was almost there when Evan stepped out of his office, closed the door behind him, and aimed a smile her way.

  “Just the lady I was coming to see. I’m heading out to get some lunch and wondered if you’d like to join me. I promise we can eat with utensils this time.”

  With the reminder of their date front and center, Reagan found it close to impossible to remain neutral as she shook her head. “No, I’m good. Just going to eat in today.”

  Evan’s smile vanished at her refusal, and as he took a step closer toward her, she chanted over and over in her mind, Do not back up, do not back up. Stand your ground.

  “Then how about I pick you up some chicken noodle soup? You still seem a little…” He paused, and a frown formed between his brows. “Under the weather.”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, and when his eyes widened, she walked around him and muttered, “I’m just busy.”

  She didn’t even bother to look behind her, instead choos
ing to march off and, without knocking, walk into Katrina’s office—for the moment, her sanctuary.

  Fuck, but why was he trying to be nice to her today? She didn’t need nice. She needed douchebag Evan to come out to play so she wouldn’t feel the trickle of guilt that kept trying to invade her thoughts. And why the fuck would she feel guilty, anyway? He was the filthy asshole here. She hadn’t done anything wrong except fall into cliché territory by falling for the unredeemable, stereotypical bad boy.

  If ever there was proof that her “no repeats” rule was one to live by, Evan’s actions that weekend were it. Tonight, she’d go out and find someone to take her mind off the last man she’d let inside her—and to reclaim her single and fucking fabulous status.

  * * *

  NIGHT FELL AND Reagan was still at the office.

  Even though she’d fully intended on going out that night, it was their busy season, and missing two days of work had put her further behind than she had anticipated.

  It wasn’t helping that she couldn’t focus.

  Instead, she was turned away from her desk, facing the large glass window that overlooked the city. In the distance, she could make out the Brooklyn Bridge, with the lights shining off it that only days ago seemed to dance across the sky, but now glared at her in mocking winks.

  She sat there, drumming her nails against the arm of her chair and lost in thought for what could’ve been minutes or hours. It wasn’t until a knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts that she looked at the time. It was well after everyone should’ve left the building, and she had been under the impression she was there alone.

  The knock sounded again, and then the door opened and Evan peered around the corner, surprised when he saw her sitting there.

  “I thought you’d snuck out hours ago,” he said as he walked inside, his jacket slung over the crook of his arm and briefcase in hand.

  She cocked her head to the side, studying his face. Why did he have to have such a handsome face? He was by leaps and bounds the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen…and he was damaged beyond repair.

  What would’ve happened if his parents hadn’t gone away? If he’d had a normal childhood, if he’d had good influences in his life, if he’d been surrounded by people who loved and cared for him and had his best intentions at heart? Would he be the same man standing before her, or would he be a stronger one?

  All irrelevant questions to be thinking at that moment, but she wondered them just the same.

  Sighing, she shook her head. “I have no reason to sneak anywhere.”

  “Well, you’ve been avoiding my good looks and witty repartee all day, so I assumed maybe you weren’t feeling well and had to rush home.”

  “Do I look that fucking bad?” she snapped. As Evan’s eyebrows shot up, she continued, “You keep saying I’m not feeling well. Stop saying that.”

  His hands went up in a defensive gesture. “Well, you mentioned you were sick, and you wouldn’t answer your pho—”

  “I wasn’t fucking sick!” she shouted, rising to her feet so fast her chair tipped behind her. “Unless you consider being nauseated for days over what I saw this weekend sick, and then yes, I was sick. Happy?”

  The look on Evan’s face was one of bewilderment, and he opened and shut his mouth several times before saying, “I’m a little confused, so forgive me while I try to keep up with you.” He dropped his jacket and briefcase in one of the chairs in front of her desk and ran his hand through his hair. “We went out Friday, and I had the best fucking dessert of my life. Since I haven’t seen or heard from you until you decided to resurface today, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. Care to clue me in, Reagan?”

  She could feel her blood begin to boil as her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to leap across the desk and slap his lying face, and at the same time, she hated herself for that impulse.

  “Tell me, Evan, since we didn’t get a chance to go over your therapy session this morning, did you and Dr. Glover have an extended visit this weekend? I’m sure after both of your late-night escapades you had several things you needed to get off your chest.”

  As the words flew out of her mouth she saw his eyes narrow on her, as if he were trying to decide exactly what she was referring to.

  Yeah, God forbid you accidently admit you fucked a whore to the woman you wined and dined the night before.

  He placed his hands on the back of the chair in front of him and leaned in before saying, in a tone that indicated quite clearly that he was becoming extremely aggravated, “I’m going to ask you again, since you seem to be skirting around whatever it is you really want to say. What the fuck are you talking about, Reagan?”

  Any self-control she’d been hanging on to finally snapped in that moment as she decided to just lay it all out for him. What did she care if she came off unhinged to him? He was the one who—

  “I saw you!” she spat out before she lost her nerve.

  Evan cocked his head to the side and, in an infuriatingly calm voice, asked, “You saw me where?”

  He’s going to make me say it? Well, fuck him if he thinks I won’t.

  “Does a five-sevenish brunette in a red dress on the corner of Smith Street ring a bell, Evan?”

  His hands flexed on the chair he was gripping before he quietly stated, “You followed me.”

  “Does it matter? I saw you, not twelve hours after leaving my bed, trying to solicit a fucking hooker.”

  “So let me get this straight: you’ve been stewing over this ‘secret’ of mine for the past three days, and today you’ve barely said two words to me because of it?” He straightened and released the chair to rub a hand over his face. “Wow. That’s some fucking nerve.”

  “I have nerve? Are you serious?” She couldn’t believe he wasn’t even trying to deny it.

  “Not only have you not bothered to ask me if it’s true and just assumed the worst, but maybe we should also acknowledge that I’m not the only one in here keeping fucking secrets.”

  Every argument she had in her head vanished in that instant. What the hell is he talking about?

  “The brown hair is a nice touch, though not as curly as I remember. I have to say, I had my suspicions, Jen, but when you came in this morning everything just fell into place.”

  Reagan opened her mouth, about to hotly deny what he was saying, but when he started to walk around the chair toward her, she decided moving the hell away was a better idea.

  “Yeah…I had my doubts. I kept thinking, why would little Jenny Spencer go to such lengths to conceal the truth from an old friend?”

  As Reagan’s mind swirled around the new information being thrown her way, she didn’t realize she’d reached the wall until her ass ran into it—and still, Evan kept coming for her.

  “But then I started to remember…we were young back then, and there are a lot of details and facts that were over my head, but one thing I will never forget is that the year my parents ruined my life, they also destroyed my best friend’s family. The ones who’d taken me in and cared for me more than my own. How is Troy, by the way?”

  Oh God. Oh shit, shit…shit.

  “What?” he prompted. “Nothing to say now? Tell me, Reagan.” He stopped in front of her, and when she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he tilted her chin up roughly. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was this some kind of sick retaliation a long time in the making?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “No, what? No, you were never planning on telling me, or no, you would never even consider the possibility of ruining my life for what my parents did to yours?”

  “How could you even think that? We loved you—”

  “Then why the ruse?”

  “It’s complicated,” she started, and looked away.

  “No, it’s not,” he said, pulling her chin back to face him. “At least look at me when you lie to me.”

  She could feel the prick of tears behind her eyes, but she fought them back. “I
t’s not my story to tell.”

  “And Bill? Where does he fit in with all this? That’s the one piece I can’t figure out.”

  Her mouth clamped shut as his eyes bored into hers and he waited for a reply. He wouldn’t get one.

  “Ah. More secrets.” He let go of her chin and backed away. The vulnerable expression from the photo she’d kept crossed his face then. His voice was quiet when he asked, “Was any of this real?”

  Trying to speak past the lump in her throat, she managed to respond, “I thought it was.”

  “And because of something you think you saw, you’ve changed your mind?”

  “I know what I saw.”

  His jaw ticked and then he gave a curt nod. Turning around, he picked up his jacket and briefcase and walked to the door, stopping when he reached it. “You know, Reagan,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Even after I realized who you were, and even with all the possibilities of why you’ve lied to me…I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. I wish you could’ve had the same respect for me.”

  And then he was gone.

  Reagan’s hand flew up to her mouth as she tried to muffle her cries, and she felt her knees begin to give out. Sinking to the floor, she gave in to the overwhelming ache and let her head drop to her hands. As she took a shuddering breath, she heard footsteps stop a few feet away from her.

  “Reagan?”

  As the sound of Bill’s voice, not Evan’s, hit her ears, her heart stopped and she looked up to face the man she’d never wanted to let down. The man looking at her now with sad, disappointed eyes.

  “Oh, Reagan. What have you done?”

  “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.”

  -Ernest Hemingway

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “SO LET ME get this straight.” Dr. Glover lifted the end of his pen to his lips as his eyes narrowed on Evan over the top of his glasses. “The woman we’ve been discussing over the past few weeks finally shows you that she wants more, and you left her in an emotional heap in her office. Did I get that right?”