Vaughn grinned. “I’m really okay.”

“I’d like to see that for myself.”

“Then you know you’re more than welcome.”

By the time he got off the phone, his brain was whirling with thoughts of his father’s upcoming visit and his earlier encounter with Bailey Hartwell. He stopped in the middle of the street and realized he’d passed the sandwich shop he’d been on his way to, to pick up lunch.

The hurt in Bailey’s eyes flashed before his own.

He should have let one of the hotel staff get the damn sandwich for him after all but no . . . he’d wanted a stroll.

He could promise himself that it was the last stroll he’d take for a while but he knew he’d go nuts if he stayed confined to the hotel while he was in town.

Moreover . . . as torturous as it was seeing Bailey, it was the sweet kind of torture he’d become addicted to.

THREE

Bailey

There was something exciting, adventurous, and more than a little risqué about getting in my car wearing nothing but sexy underwear beneath a raincoat. I was positive if anyone saw me, they’d know what I was up to, and so I’d made a mad dash to my car, almost going over on my ankle in my red stilettos.

I’d laughed at myself as I pulled out of my driveway, and I’d giggled at the excited butterflies in my belly.

It felt good to be doing something out of the norm.

However, as I pulled up to Tom’s apartment, the butterflies took on a different flutter. The excitement was tempered by the reminder of my partner pushing me away the night before.

I stared up at his place, saw the light burning in the window, and I froze for a moment before giving myself a pep talk.

“You’re wearing a raincoat. And lingerie.” There was no way a guy could turn that down.

Taking a deep breath, I let that knowledge revive my confidence and I got out of the car. That turned out to be the hardest part. As I let myself into the building with my key, I couldn’t help but move quickly with anticipation. I bounced lightly up the stairs on my toes so the clacking of heels wouldn’t alert him to my arrival.

I should have clacked.

I should have clacked like hell.

Perhaps if Tom had been alerted to my arrival, I wouldn’t have had to witness his naked ass moving up and down as he thrust into the woman who was laid underneath him on the couch.

Shock froze me to the spot as I entered the open-plan apartment and tried to process the scene in the living space and what it meant.

They were facing away from me so they had no idea I was there, and Tom’s body was blocking the woman so all I could see were her purple-polished fingernails clawing his ass in an attempt to pull him deeper inside her.

“Oh, God, yes,” she panted in a high-pitched voice.

A voice I didn’t recognize.

“Erin,” he grunted. “Fuck.”

Erin?

My gaze drifted over them, landing on Tom’s feet. He was still wearing his socks and the soles were dirty. He was wearing dirty socks while he screwed someone named Erin on his couch.

I stared down at my raincoat, feeling foolish. Humiliated.

All this time I’d been worried about how to get our relationship on track and he was fucking someone else.

What an idiot.

My head snapped up on a surge of sudden fury, and I was surprised fire bolts didn’t shoot at them from my eyes. I wasn’t the idiot. I wasn’t foolish! The fuckwad cheating on me was the goddamn idiot!

Ten fucking years!

Enraged, I slipped off my heels, letting my bare feet take me into the kitchen. I glanced over at the couch and noted they still were so busy getting it on that they hadn’t noticed me. I yanked open the fridge and grabbed the jug of ice water he kept in there.

“What the—” Tom, alerted to the noise of the fridge door closing, looked up just as I made it to the couch. His eyes widened with horror as I upended the ice-cold water all over him and his fuck buddy.

Erin screamed as Tom cursed, jumping off of her like she was covered in fire ants.

While they scrambled off the couch in search of clothes and warmth, yelling the entire time, I spotted Erin’s purse and marched over to it.

“Bailey, I can explain.” Tom’s voice was high with panic.

I glanced over at him as I rummaged through the stranger’s purse. He was hurrying into his jeans, tripping over his feet, glancing from me to Erin with wild eyes.

As for Erin she was standing with a blanket I kept thrown over the couch, a blanket I curled up with when watching movies, wrapped around her. She was too busy looking shame-faced at her bare feet to realize I had her phone in my hand.

“Erin and I—”

“Are cheating scum!” I interrupted.

My voice brought Erin’s head up and the blood that I didn’t think could get any hotter in my veins hit boiling point. I recognized her after all. She was the girlfriend of one of Tom’s colleagues, Rex McFarlane. His very likeable, handsome, twenty-four-year-old colleague. And Erin . . . Erin was twenty-three!

I’d been screwed over for a girl barely out of college.

Here I was, walking along thinking I could fix things, content with the idea of fixing things, my path clear and sunny with determination, when all of a sudden this giant brick wall of hate, disgust, disappointment, betrayal, hurt pride, and fury appeared out of nowhere and smashed right the fuck into me!

And I wanted Tom and his little Erin to feel everything I was feeling.

Rage was pretty much running my show.