Grant’s eyes did narrow then, and he pulled something out of his pocket. Her diamond. It glinted in the sunlight coming through the window behind her. “Damnit, Alexa, this is yours.” He nailed her with an intimidating stare. It was hard not to duck her chin. “You can’t just end it. We have five years of history. You can’t throw that away. Don’t you think we deserve some conversation, some time to cool down and talk this out, some effort to fix things?”
“Grant—”
He stepped forward and she could’ve sworn he meant to grasp her wrist, but then he put the ring down on her paperwork. “I’m not letting you give it back. This isn’t over.”
She crossed her arms and arched a brow at him. “Yes, it is.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, then held them up as if in surrender. “Please, Alexa. You’re important to me.”
Frowning, Alexa shook her head. For one of the first times ever, she seemed to be able to hear what he wasn’t saying as clearly as what he was, and it solidified that she was doing the right thing. “Please take it, Grant. I know it’s really valuable. If you don’t take it I’m afraid it’ll get lost or stolen, because I won’t be taking it either.”
“I don’t care about the ring,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. Just like it had been in his office the night before.
“You say you care about me and you want to fix things, but you won’t even honor what I want right now,” she said, working to keep her tone even. “Take the freaking ring.”
She had no idea how she held out in the staring match that followed. Her heart raced. Her knees felt like they could give out. She fisted her hands to try to hide her shakiness. Finally, he heaved out a long breath and scooped the diamond up again. “This isn’t over,” he said, and then he turned and stalked out.
The moment the door closed behind him, Alexa nearly collapsed into her chair.
She was shaky and a little woozy from the adrenaline pumping through her, but it still felt like a damn victory. That was quite possibly the first disagreement with him she’d felt like she’d ever won.
Despite his parting words.
But they didn’t matter. Because she and Grant were over.
And there was absolutely nothing he could do to change that.
CHAPTER 15
Maverick was crawling out of his skin waiting for Alexa to walk out of work. Leaning against the front of his truck, arms crossed and eyes trained on the doors, it took everything he had not to march in there and escort her out.
He’d been a mess of worst case scenarios all day. Slater hitting her. Slater nabbing her and hiding her away. Slater snapping and taking them both out in some melodramatic murder-suicide. Even as the thoughts had been rushing through his brain, he’d known they were fucking ridiculous. Grant Slater was nothing if not image-conscious, which was the only thing that’d kept Maverick sane. The guy wasn’t going to do anything obvious, not in public at least.
That hadn’t made it any easier for Maverick to concentrate on the 1950s Copper Hardtail he’d been working on reengineering for a client. And that didn’t mean her ex wouldn’t go all stalker. Because Maverick believed he had that in him. And he didn’t trust Slater’s concerned act on that call this morning in the least.
He just hoped Alexa didn’t either.
Then, finally, there she was. A beautiful vision in a pair of form-fitting black pants, strappy black heels, and a silky pale pink blouse. A sexy vision. Put together and polished and professional.
Unlike him. He was all ripped jeans, stained hands, and beat-up boots.
Did she care about that stuff?
Didn’t she have to—at least on some level? Five years ago, she’d picked Slater over him, and he and Slater couldn’t have been more different. Abusive-asshole factor aside, Slater was two-thousand-dollar business suits and high-end luxury cars and million-dollar mansions. From his own business and his cut from the Ravens, Maverick had money, but he didn’t flash it. He was a jeans, T-shirt, bike kinda man.
Sonofabitch.
As she neared, Alexa smiled. And damn if that shit didn’t light him up inside. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” He gave a nod as she came to stand in front of him. His gaze raced over her, checking for signs that anything bad had happened in the seven hours that they’d been apart. But she looked fine. She looked perfect. Need roared through him. “Everything okay?”
“Yep,” she said, her voice cheerful. Too cheerful?
He eyeballed her. “Slater in there?”
Her smile slid away. “Yeah.”
Maverick ground his teeth together as a fantasy flooded through his mind’s eye. One he wanted that asshole to fucking see. “Know what I want to do?”
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt—”
“No, that’s not it. Well, it is, but it’s not what I was thinking of right now,” he said.