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“Juliet? I’m sort of in the middle of something,” I say, using my arm as a barricade as I rest my hand against the doorframe. This seems to be a trend lately.

“Is that any way to say hello?” Her lips tip up into a sensual smile.

“Hello,” I sarcastically retort, and Juliet finally picks up on my irritation at her just turning up, unexpected.

With her eyes narrowed, she asks, “You’re not happy to see me?”

Truthfully no, I’m not, and it must show on my face.

“Have I done something wrong, Dixon?” she questions, and I rub the back of my neck, as having this conversation is the last thing I want to do.

But now that she’s here, I may as well put us both out of our misery.

“Please, come in.” I step backward so she can enter.

She looks at me suspiciously but nods, and saunters in. Shutting the door behind her, I cut to the chase because I’m in no mood to drag this out.

“Look, Juliet, things between us, they’ve been… interesting, but I think it’s best we stop seeing one another.”

I lean against the door and cross my arms over my chest, my body language displaying the truth to what I just said. I give her a moment to process my comment.

“You’re serious?” she scoffs, appearing taken aback.

Her arrogance that I could actually not want her is quite off-putting, and I wonder how I found her self-assurance attractive in the past.

“Yes,” I answer firmly, and Juliet looks as if I’ve slapped her cheek with my curtness.

“I don’t know what to say,” she replies, visibly stunned.

“There’s nothing to say. You and I both know what this was. Let’s not make something out of nothing,” I say, and as harsh as that sounds, it’s the truth—the truth I have been avoiding for so long.

“I…” Juliet falters, nervously pulling at the gold necklace around her neck. “I like you, Dixon. And I know you like me, too,” she seductively says, stepping toward me.

I’ve got nowhere to go, but I stand tall.

“Juliet, I liked the sex. I liked the fact I could lose control with you and be someone I thought I wanted to be. But funnily enough, being with you proved to me that that man was a complete jackass.”

“You don’t mean that,” she says with a firm shake of her head.

“Yes, I really do,” I reply firmly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but honestly, I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Of course I care,” she cries. “How could you think I don’t? I’ve been fucking you for the past three months!”

I sigh because this is all it comes down to—sex.

“Did you know I was once engaged?” I question, watching the shock pass over Juliet’s face.

“No, I did not,” she confesses, her composure slipping.

“Did you know that I’ve loved the Yankees since my father took me to my first game when I was eight years old?”

She lowers her eyes, and shakes her head.

“Does that answer your question?” I ask. “But to be fair, there are things about you that I should know, but don’t. And that’s because I never asked you. And that’s because—”

“You never cared,” she finishes for me, completely in step with what I’m saying.

“Juliet—” but she cuts me off.

“Forget it, Dixon. I get it. I don’t need you canoodling me, or giving me some pep talk. I’m fine. It was fun, but we’re done. I get it,” she spits, straightening her shoulders and staring me straight in the eye. “Goodbye. It was nice knowing you.” She storms forward, cocking her head, silently telling me to move.

I could try and smooth things over, but what would be the point? I have no intention of ever seeing her again, and it wasn’t like I ever had feelings for her. So with that thought in mind, I step aside and she yanks the door open, making sure to slam it shut behind her.

Well, that was a little dramatic, but I never expected anything less from her.

Letting out a deep breath, I walk to the kitchen, desperate for a much-needed scotch to deal with Hurricane Juliet.

I’m not sorry this has happened; quite frankly, I’m relieved. I know that probably makes me a heartless bastard, but dragging this on for a second longer would make me a fucking heartless bastard. I down the contents of my drink, and just as I pour myself another, there’s a knock at my door.

Silently cursing, I throw back my scotch, knowing I will probably need another hit. When the knock sounds once again, I groan, because if Juliet is standing behind my door, I just might slam it shut in her face. Madison will be here any minute, and I really don’t want Juliet to be standing in my apartment, half nude, when she arrives.

“What?” I bark, opening the door with force.

“Fuck you, too,” Hunter says, looking totally bored as he leans against the doorjamb, looking at his watch. “What took you so long? Are you baking brownies and listening to Michael Bolton while you get ready for your slumber party?” he says, pushing off the doorframe and shoving past me.

“Hi, Hunter. Please, won’t you come inside,” I sarcastically quip, shutting the door behind me. “What are you doing here?” I ask, following him as he walks into my kitchen and helps himself to a beer.

“I was bored,” he replies with a shrug. “All my friends are supposedly busy, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll go annoy my best friend.”

“That’s a lovely story,” I say, “but Madison will be here any minute now. So how ’bout you go annoy Finch?”

“Hell no,” Hunter scoffs, taking a sip of beer. “I predict here will be a lot more fun than over at the Millers’. And besides, I wanna meet Cherry Pie.”

When I roll my eyes, Hunter faux gasps. “What? Are you ashamed of me?” He bites his knuckle, pretending to cry.

Scoffing at his melodramatics, I press. “Hunt, I’m serious, you gotta go.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re right, I am ashamed of you,” I reply with a grin.

Hunter mockingly laughs at my comment, but doesn’t take offense as he boosts himself up and takes a seat on my kitchen counter, happily sipping his beer. I know he’s not going to leave without some form of bribery, so I rack my brain, wondering what I can use to entice him.

Debbie Does Dallas,” I spit out, hoping like hell this works.

It’s like dangling a carrot in front of a very horny donkey and Hunter stops mid-sip, lowering the bottle with a smirk.

“I want the Blu-ray special edition, and a stack of old-school Jenna. Please and thank you,” he says, waving his beer in my direction, in total understanding of my offer.

“Fine. As soon as you get these, you are leaving, understood?”

“Scout’s honor,” he says, flipping me off, which is his version of the scout salute.

It’s good enough for me, and I race to my bedroom, hoping like hell I find these suckers asap because I haven’t watched them in a long time—a small perk of having Juliet on call, but honestly, I would much rather the porn.

Rummaging through my cabinet, I find a stack of Jenna oldies, but for the life of me, I can’t find Debbie Does Dallas. Grabbing a stack of discs, I look over at the clock and see that it’s 6:50 p.m. Madison will be here any minute, which means I need Hunter gone in seconds. These discs will have to do, but let’s face facts, it’s porn, and any porn will do.

“I can’t find Debbie, but will Riding Miss Daisy and Legally Boned do?” I ask, blindly walking into the kitchen and holding up the discs so I can read the titles off the covers. “Hunt?” I say, when he doesn’t reply.

I’m completely distracted looking at the picture of the busty blonde on the front cover, and it’s only when I hear a throat clearing that I raise my eyes to see what’s going on. The moment I see who’s standing in front of me, the discs go flying behind my shoulder and into the living area because Madison is standing before me, looking beyond embarrassed, while Hunter is standing beside her, looking beyond amused.