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She h the hotel and catch a cab to the penthouse where she crammed all of her stuff back into her suitcase She left behind the fancy dresses, the expensive shoes, and the one pair of hiking boots that had actually been delivered Australia wasn’t in the picture anyht With all of her adventures, she’d been looking for her purpose She still hadn’t found it, but at least now she knew she wasn’t going to do so by traveling halfway around the globe She was done running—from her fears, from her expectations, from herself

The nu outside the apartment she shared with Daphne She tried her key but her hands shook too much t

o get it in the lock, so she finally gave up and rang the bell By the ti down her face

“Oh, honey,” Daphne said wrapping her aronna be okay”

But Clover knew deep in that part of her soul that couldn’t lie that it wasn’t going to be, not even close

…

Three hours and three double whiskeys later, Sawyer stumbled around his penthouse ready for battle with an opponent who had already vacated the preers in her closet next to the cocktail dresses he’d bought for her, the shoes he’d fucked her in, and the one pair of hiking boots for her trip to Australia that he hadn’t ed to hide away before she saw them, he realized that Clover’s abandon had wanted to warn him about when he brushed the man off and rushed into the elevator A bitter taste coated his tongue as he slammed the closet door shut and stormed out of her room Of course it wasn’t her room—not anymore

He took a beer froe and tipped back the bottle as he tore off his bow tie and shrugged out of his jacket Fuckinghiet a decent arip squeezing theone by the tiet rid of the pounding in his head and wipe away the e

He swiped another beer fro hurt Breathing hurt Thinking hurt The only thing to do in this situation was to sit down, turn on the television, and get as drunk as possible as fast as possible until he couldn’t see the sly sotiation or hear her soft moan as she caers

Listing toward the living roorabbed a bottle of whiskey from Clover’s flea market bar cart on the way and settled onto the couch in a haze He clicked the remote and an episode of Flea Market Flip appeared on his TV His finger hovered over the button to change the channel but he couldn’t push it They’d seen this one together The older women kicked their husbands’ asses The remote slipped from his hand and landed on the coffee table with a hard thunk

Watching this horrible shoas like pouring rock salt into a gaping wound, but he couldn’t stop because what all the alcohol in his systeone and it was his fault He’d missed some detail that really mattered He’d fucked up Now he’d pay the price

Chapter Twenty-Three

Someone had taken a tire iron to Sawyer’s head It was the only explanation for the pounding that was loud enough to rattle his teeth He opened his eyes and sat up That was a h to make him squeeze his eyes shut, white knuckle the couch, and pro that he would never ever do whatever it was that he’d done to get that way ever again

The intercom buzzed and the sound vibrated down his spine

Okay, it wasn’t a tire iron, but Irving’s buzzer finger that was trying to kill hi hiered toward the intercom box by the elevator