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Collide (Collide #1) Page 96
Author: Gail McHugh

Swallowing hard, he stared at her for a long moment as his thoughts ran over every possible scenario that might allow him to escape the situation. Watching the woman—whom he had spent so many years with—tremble and shake before him like a lost, broken-hearted child, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from weaving over to Emily. He wondered what the woman—whom he was now in love with—would think if he actually let his ex-fiancée come in.

“Please, Gavin. I just need someone to talk to right now,” she whispered, staring at the ground as her body swayed slightly.

“Gina, you do understand that you’re only coming in to talk, right?” She wiped the tears from her face and nodded. “I want to make myself very clear. I’m giving you fifteen minutes, and then you have to leave.”

“Okay,” she cried, looking into his eyes. “Thank you.”

Without another word, he ran a nervous hand through his hair and reluctantly stepped out of her way to allow her into his penthouse. His mind struggled with his decision as he snapped the door shut. She stumbled into the living room, removed her jacket, and discarded it onto the floor as though it were a used tissue.

“Do you have any alcohol?” she asked, sinking herself into the couch.

“I think you’ve already had enough to drink,” he replied, taking a seat on a chair across the room. “What exactly happened?”

“He hung himself,” she sobbed, folding her hands across her stomach as if she were in physical pain. “He got himself in deep and lost everything. I’m messed up. Financially, he dragged me down with him this time.”

Gavin knew immediately what she was talking about. He’d spent five years of their relationship digging her father out from one gambling mess to the next—everything from horse race betting to long weekend trips the asshole spent in Vegas. The tally was close to a $300,000, if not more.

With a heavy sigh, Gavin folded his hands together and leaned forward. “Do you need help with the funeral expenses or your rent? Which is it?”

Plowing her hand through her blonde hair, she sucked in an indignant breath. “How could you even say that to me right now? You think I came here for money?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m pretty fucking sure that’s why you came here.”

Using the back of her hand to wipe her nose, she stared at him, her mouth wide open. “I can’t believe what you’re saying to me, considering—“

“Considering what?” he cut her off, his tone harsh. “You walked out of my life, and now you show up at my door out of nowhere, laying all of this on me. If you’re looking for a shoulder to cry on, I’m not your guy.” He rose from his chair and padded into the kitchen, flinging open one of the cabinets. Yanking a bottle of bourbon from the shelf, he poured himself a shot and tossed it back. “I’m sorry to hear about your father—I honestly am—but I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Gavin, I came here because you’re the only person in the whole world who really knows and understands me,” she gasped, her tear-stained eyes wounded. “You know my mother left us. I have no one. How can you be so heartless?”

“Yeah, I’m the heartless one. I learned from the best; let’s not forget that. If you need money, just fucking say it already. Goddammit!” he snapped, slamming the shot glass down on the counter so hard that Gina jumped, startled by his anger.

Somewhere in between the spiked level of adrenaline coursing its way through his veins and her sobbing, Gavin faintly registered the sound of his cell phone ringing in the office. For a moment, he felt as though his feet were frozen to the ground. He couldn’t believe that the woman who’d hurt him so badly and put him through so much heartbreak was sitting on his sofa—asking him to alleviate her pain. Shaking his head, Gavin finally turned away from her without another word and shuffled out of the living room to answer the call.

By the time he made it into his office, it had stopped ringing. Picking it up, his heart dropped when he realized it was Emily that’d called. He reclined himself into his leather chair, stabbed his passcode into the damn thing, and retrieved the message she had left for him.

“Well, hello there, wiseass. I know it’s pretty late, and I was about to go to bed myself, but I just wanted to call and thank you for one of the best nights and days of my life. I know you and I have a tough ride ahead of us…” She paused and lowered her voice. “But as afraid of all of this as I was, I’m not scared anymore, Gavin. I’m really not. You depleted me of any doubts that I had about us. I don’t know. I’m just rambling on now, but I wanted you to know that I do love you, and I’m excited to see just how amazing we’re going to be together. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Sweet dreams.”

Gavin lost count of the amount of times he listened to Emily’s message, her voice like an angel amid the nightmare that was in sitting in his living room. Sighing, he scrubbed his palms over his face and debated on sending her a text. He decided against it, considering she said she was going to bed.

Rising from his chair, he made his way back into the living room—only to find his nightmare ex laying on his couch sound asleep, wearing only her sweater and panties. On the floor, next to her jeans, the bottle of bourbon was tipped on its side nearly empty.

“How can a day so fucking good end so badly?” he mumbled to himself as he moved across the room toward the couch. “Gina,” he said, leaning over her as he nudged her shoulder. “You need to leave.”

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