No sympathy, huh? Tough crowd. You think I got what I deserved? Maybe I still deserve worse?

It’s a compelling argument. I f**ked up. No question about it. It was a slump—all the greats have them. But those days are over now. I’m off the bench and back in the game.

I just hope Kate will give me another chance at bat.

Panting from the seven-block sprint, I nod my head in greeting to the security guard and make my way through the empty lobby. I use the brief elevator ride up to catch my breath and practice what I’m going to say. Then I step out onto the fortieth floor.

There’s only one place Kate Brooks would be at ten thirty on a Monday night. And that’s right here, where it all started. The offices are dark. It’s quiet, except for the music coming from her office. I walk down the hall and stop outside her closed door.

Then I see her. Through the glass.

Christ Almighty.

She’s sitting at her desk, staring at the computer screen. She’s biting her lip in that way that brings me to my f**king knees. Her hair is pulled back, exposing every flawless feature on her face. I’ve missed looking at her. You have no idea. It feels like…like I’ve been underwater, holding my breath. And now I can finally breathe again.

She looks up. And her eyes meet mine.

See how she stares for a few seconds longer than necessary? How her head tilts to the side, and her eyes squint? Like she doesn’t quite believe what she’s seeing.

She’s surprised. Then the surprise morphs into distaste. Like she just ate something rotten. And that’s when I know. When I’m certain of what you’ve probably already figured out. That I am a complete f**king idiot.

She didn’t take Warren back. There’s no way.

If she had? If our weekend had meant nothing to her? If I meant nothing? She wouldn’t be looking at me like I’m the goddamn devil. She wouldn’t be affected at all. It’s simple guy logic: If a woman is angry? It means she cares. If you’re in a relationship and a chick can’t even be bothered to yell at you? You’re screwed. Indifference is a woman’s kiss of death. It’s the equivalent of a man not interested in sex. In either case—it’s over. You’re done.

So, if Kate is upset, it’s because I hurt her. And the only reason I was able to do that is because she wanted to be with me.

That may seem like a twisted way to think—but it’s the way it is. Trust me, I know. I’ve spent my life screwing women I felt nothing for. If they f**ked another guy right after me? Good for them. If they told me they never wanted to see me again? Even better. You can’t get blood from a stone. You can’t get a reaction from someone who doesn’t give a shit.

Kate, on the other hand, is overflowing with emotion. Anger, distrust, betrayal—it simmers in her eyes and shines on her face. The fact that she still feels something for me—even if it’s hatred—gives me hope. Because that I can work with.

I open the door to her office and walk in. Kate looks back to her laptop and hits a few keys.

“What do you want, Drew?”

“I need to talk to you.”

She doesn’t look up. “I’m working. I don’t have time for you.”

I step forward and close her laptop. “Make time.”

She turns her eyes on me. They’re hard. Glacial, like black ice.

“Go to hell.”

I smirk, even though there’s nothing remotely funny about any of this. “Been there. All week.”

She leans back in her chair, looking me up and down. “That’s right. Erin told us about your mysterious illness.”

“I stayed home because…”

“Cab ride take too much out of you? Needed a few days to recover?”

I shake my head. “What I said that day was a mistake.”

She stands up. “No. The only mistake here was mine. That I ever thought there was anything more to you. That I actually let myself believe there was something…beautiful underneath all your cocky charm and big-dick attitude. I was wrong. You’re hollow inside. Empty.”

Remember when I said Kate and I are a lot alike? We are. And I don’t mean just in bed or at the office. We both have the uncanny ability to say just the right things—to wound. To find that weak spot inside every one of us, and nail it with a verbal frigging grenade.

“Kate, I—”

She cuts me off. And her voice is tight. Clogged.

“You know, Drew, I’m not stupid. I wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal. I knew what you were like. But, you seemed so…And that night at the bar? The way you looked at me. I thought…”

Her voice breaks, and I want to f**king kill myself.

“…I thought I meant something to you.”

I step closer, wanting to touch her. To comfort her. To take it all back.

Make it all better.

“You did. You do.”

She nods stiffly. “Right. That’s why you—”

“I didn’t do anything! There was no hook-up. No goddamn taxi ride. It was all bullshit, Kate. It was Steven on the phone that day, not Stacey. I just said those things so you would think it was her.”

She goes pale, and I know she believes me. “Why…why would you do that?”

I blow out a breath. My voice is soft and strained. Begging her to understand.

“Because…I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I didn’t know it until that Sunday night. And then when Billy showed up here…I thought you took him back. And it f**king crushed me. It hurt so much that I wanted to make you…feel as bad as I did.”