Dangerous Exes (Page 16)

The gauntlet was thrown.

I stared at the rings, everything was simple, elegant, unique, like the shiny façade she put on every single day in order to do her job.

But it wasn’t her.

It was missing something.

Like life.

I exhaled and nodded to Janie. “I want something with a different color, antique, trendy, something that stands out, that wants to be heard.”

Isla paled next to me.

I took her hand and squeezed it.

Janie smiled. “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.”

She pulled out another set of rings, and before she even set it down, I pointed. “That one, right there.”

Janie practically clapped her hands and started jumping. “The Soleste Pear, yellow diamond surrounded by white diamonds—one of our most unique rings. Though typically they only go up to a two carat, the one you’ve set your eye on is nearly four carats.”

Isla looked ready to pass out.

“Four carats,” I repeated out loud while Colin cursed in my ear like he was the one having to shell out a shit ton of money for a fake engagement.

But the moment felt . . . right, as I picked up the ring and faced Isla. Her hand shook as I slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect fit.”

Janie’s sigh was loud enough to get the attention of the entire store.

Slowly, I bent down on one knee and held on to Isla’s small hands.

I had no idea why I was shaking right along with her.

Why I suddenly had no idea how to use the words floating around my brain, or why my tongue stopped working all at once.

Colin cleared his throat in my earpiece. “Tell her she’s beautiful, she’s the only woman you see and—”

“Isla.” I ignored his protests about going rogue. “Share this life with me, not because I can’t do it on my own—but because I can’t imagine going another day without you by my side, without waking up next to you, touching you, laughing with you. I want you to belong to me, the way I already belong to you. Please say yes?”

Her eyes widened.

“Didn’t think you had it in you.” Colin sounded surprised.

Isla quickly gave her head a shake, rose to her feet, and pulled me in for a brief kiss before whispering against my lips, “Yes!”

Janie cheered as clapping and whistles sounded around the store. Isla leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Good job, Colin.”

Rejection was swift.

I deflated a bit.

And swore in that moment I’d do anything so she’d never find out the truth.

It wasn’t Colin saying those words. Prompting me.

They seemed to come from somewhere more terrifying.

More confusing.

A place that felt like my heart.

Chapter Sixteen

ISLA

I toyed with the ring on my finger, twisting it around and around. It was soothing, the continuous movement, and yet every time my fingers touched the giant rock, I wanted to look down.

Fought the desire to stare at my left hand in awe.

Wayne had never bought me a ring. We were supposed to pick it out together. But he was always too busy.

I dreamed of having an actual Tiffany’s experience, one where a gorgeous loyal man stood by my side, then fell to his knees with adoration and told me to pick whatever I wanted. It seemed so romantic to have someone take care of me like that, and now, now that I had it, I wanted to cry, because it wasn’t real, none of this was, and for a fleeting moment, I closed my eyes and told myself it was, because it felt good to be treasured, desired.

The only person in my life who knew about my dreams was Blaire, which meant this was her first brilliant idea.

Encouraged by Colin.

Begrudgingly accepted by Jessie after a few minutes of begging on their end while I downed another cup of coffee.

When I woke up this morning, I had one plan.

Go to work, annoy the hell out of Jessie, have a relaxing yoga session, then go home and open a bottle of wine.

Instead, I was riding in a Tesla toward West Hollywood for a late bite to eat with Jessie so we could be “seen.”

Colin and Blaire were meeting us there.

My nerves were already shot.

And my hand felt heavy.

“You’re quiet,” Jessie said as he parked at The Catch. I’d only ever eaten there once but was excited to fill the weird-feeling void in my stomach with something of substance.

I unbuckled my seat belt. “Sorry, just thinking.”

“Bullshit,” Jessie teased. “That’s the look of a plotter right there, better get that planner out and highlight some things.” He had the nerve to touch my cheek with his finger.

I smacked his hand away and tried not to smile. “No touching.”

“I just spent over six figures on a ring, I think I should be at least allowed to touch your cheek.”

I smiled over at him. “Imagine what you could have touched had you spent twice that?”

I was teasing.

I knew it.

He knew it.

Regardless, the air was suddenly sucked from the car as we stared at one another, breathing became more difficult as seconds of silence ticked by. Why? Why was he so impossible to resist?

Jessie was the first to regain his composure. “Just don’t follow me into the bathroom or do any of your crazy PI shit, we’re supposed to be in a loving relationship.”

I snorted. “You even know what that looks like?”

It was a low blow, but he threw me off balance, made me feel panicked and out of control—something I would never get used to.

“This coming from the girl who’s never even been married?” Jessie whistled as he slammed the door shut, leaving me in the car by myself.

I deserved that.

And then my door opened and he offered his hand.

I took it and stood. He jerked me to his chest, my head nearly knocked out his chin.

“Just leave crazy Isla in the car,” he said.

I frowned. “What? Still worried about that perfect image of yours?”

He flinched.

It was slight.

It was enough.

“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to.

“Alright, lover.” I looped my arm in his. “Let’s do this.”

“Isla.” His tone held just enough warning to make the hairs on the back of my arm stand on end.

I ignored them all.

Kept my head high, and walked right up to the door and waited.

He held it open.

Colin and Blaire waved at us from a table in the corner. Nobody paid me much attention, but Jessie? It was like setting a bomb off in the restaurant.

It was at least ten minutes before he finally stopped talking to his adoring fans and took a seat across from me. His smile was flat again, the crinkles at his eyes gone.

I hated his flat smile.

Even more when it was directed at me.

Cold. Lifeless.

I don’t know what came over me, but I kicked him under the table.

His knee shot up, knocking over his water. “What the hell was that for?”

“I’m hungry,” I said sweetly. “You made me wait.”

“Eat bread!” He shoved the basket toward me.

I gasped.

Blaire let out a long sigh. “Isla doesn’t eat bread.”

Jessie’s shocked expression wasn’t at all helpful. “But . . . why?”

“Because”—I placed the napkin on my lap—“I don’t like it.”

Wrong thing to say.

Jessie stared. “I don’t understand your anger.”