His jaw is locked tight. “I made a mistake. I admitted it. I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face. But you are hell bent on seeing the worst in me no matter what.” The elevator doors open, and I walk out, grateful to escape his clean, testosterone-scented air. “No, because I don’t see anything in you at all,” I reply. “Go play your games with someone else. Or better yet, don’t. Grow the fuck up and stop treating women like pawns.”
