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Dylan fidgeted a few feet away, drumming his fingers on the table. “We need to get that thing back in working order before the Indie Short Festival.”

I rolled my eyes and took the Maglite out of my mouth. Glaring at him, I said, “That’s why I’m trying to fix it. If you’ve got any bright ideas, do let me know.” With that, I again held the light between my teeth and continued trying to work miracles on the piece-of-shit projector.

Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he shifted his weight. “We really should replace this damned thing.”

I held the flashlight in one hand and carefully turned a mostly stripped screw with the other. “If we had the money, I’d be all over that.”

“If we don’t replace it soon, we’re going to lose a hell of a lot more money.”

I sighed. He was absolutely right, but with the bankroll fresh in my mind, there was no way around one important fact: We simply couldn’t afford it. As it was, I was seriously considering scaling back hours for some of our employees.

“Maybe after the Indie Short,” I said. “If we can get enough-”

“That assumes this fucker is working by then,” Dylan snapped.

I gritted my teeth. “Maybe we should switch it with one of the others. At least then the main features will have a reliable projector, and we can keep tweaking this one in one of the smaller auditoriums. I’d rather lose sales on a film that’s going to have a smaller turnout anyway.”

He grunted and gave a single nod. “Probably a good idea.”

“Well, whatever we do,” I said, “we do need to get it up and running today. Could you hand me that socket wrench?”

Once the projector was fixed-or at least operational until the next time-I went back into the office and dropped into my chair.

For a moment, I looked at my desk, furrowing my brow, trying to remember what I was doing before I was called away. Swimming through that lost, “Where the hell was I?” feeling, I absently rolled the baseball back and forth across the desk and-

Remembered tossing it up in the air.

Thinking about Jake.

Thinking about why I couldn’t keep thinking about Jake.

Thinking about Nathan.

Exhaling, I leaned back in my chair, put my feet up and stared at the ceiling. I still couldn’t figure out why I was so hung up on Nathan, but after the way he’d fucked me last night, I could think of worse things to do than think about him.

Such as giving another moment’s thought to Jake.

Chapter Six

On the way up the stairs to Jake’s apartment, I ground my teeth hard enough to make my jaw ache. I had a strange feeling of returning to the crime scene, coming back to the place where I’d helped Jake deceive Nathan. Though I was also being cheated, Nathan was in the picture first. Unknowingly or not, I’d encroached on his territory.

And this, I thought with a sigh as I stood in front of Jake’s door, is where it happened. I figured time would eventually soothe my conscience. It would probably take less time than it took Nathan to get over this whole thing.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered to myself as guilt rose in my throat once again. We’d all get over it. Eventually. For now, I had to deal with Jake.

With my heart in my throat and my other fist balling at my side as if I thought to smack him when he came to the door, I knocked.

He opened the door and smiled. It was that same damned smile that had knocked my knees out from under me time and time again in the past. Tonight, it just made me want to knock his teeth out of his face.

“Zach, it’s so good to see you.” He reached for me, but I backed away, glaring at him.

“I just came to give you your key,” I said.

His smile fell. “Can we at least talk about this?”

I held out my hand, the key lying across my palm. “There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“Zach, honestly.” He put his hands up and shook his head. “There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I still held out the key. “Like why you would lie to me. And why you’d cheat on someone like him.”

He snorted. “Please. You don’t even know him.”

I know him better than you might think, jackass. “Take the key.”

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Zach, if you’d let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain.”

“How do you know that?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Were you sleeping with me?”

“Yes.”

“And were you sleeping with him?”

He set his jaw. “Yes, but-”

“Did you tell him about me?”

Shifting his weight, he held my gaze without flinching, looking me right in the eye like the unrepentant bastard that he was. “No.”

Through my teeth, I said, “And did you tell me about him?”

“No, I didn’t.”

I turned my outstretched hand over, letting the key fall to the cement patio with a sharp, metallic clang. “Go to hell, Jake.”

I started down the stairs, but Jake’s hand was instantly on my arm. He didn’t grip it tight enough to hurt, just enough to get my attention. My glare shifted from his face to his hand and back.

He loosened his grasp. “Zach, please. Can we just talk? For a few minutes?”

“Why?”

Releasing my arm, he said, “I just want to talk. Then you can go.”

“Oh, why, thank you,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Glad to know I have your permission. Good-bye, Jake.”

“After six months, you can’t be bothered with ten fucking minutes?”

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “No. After six months of being used, I can’t be bothered with you.”

“Jesus, Zach,” he said, his lips thinning, not unlike the way Nathan’s had the other night. “You walked out before you heard a damned thing. How do you know he and I weren’t on the way out?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Oh, really? So what was I? A placeholder? The job you lined up before giving your current one two weeks’ notice?”

His gaze and shoulders dropped. “Look, I fucked up, okay? I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. You’re the one I wanted to be with, not him.”

“So you lied to both of us?” I bit back the anger that threatened to come bubbling up to the surface. “And you think that I’m willing to come back to you after you cheated with me?”

“I told you, I fucked up,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I’m sorry. I should never have cheated on either of you, but losing you was…” He shook his head. “I’m just, I’m sorry. I want to try again.”

My single sharp cough of laughter sounded much more sarcastic than I’d intended, but I didn’t apologize for it. “Try again? So do I get to be the unsuspecting boyfriend this time when you get bored with me and find someone else?”

“No, that’s not-”

“You’re right, it’s not what’s going to happen,” I said. “Because we’re done. If I can’t trust you, I can’t be with you.” I shrugged, not caring how flippant I came across. I was dangerously close to losing my temper, so if my sarcasm kept it at bay, then I didn’t care if it meant verbally slapping him across the face a few times. The last thing I wanted was a screaming match in his doorway.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I said, “I’m having a hard enough time looking at myself in the mirror knowing that I was part of something that hurt him.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, it’s not like you did anything.”

“No,” I said, willing myself to stay civil. “But I have this unfortunate thing called a conscience. Something you obviously lack.”