Co-exist.

It was a thought she’d been contemplating a lot lately. The prospect of somehow living life alongside Henrik without actually being involved in his life. He was quick to catch her meaning.

“Wait a second.” He moved away from her, running his hand down his face in obvious frustration. “I understand we’ve had our issues in the past, but you just said that like we’re never going to be friends.”

Leila laughed, assuming he was making some kind of joke, but when he stood, his gaze glaring down at her, she realized he was actually pissed. “Henrik.” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain herself. “Let’s be honest with ourselves here. You don’t have friends of the female variety.”

“Says who?” he scoffed, offended.

“You have female friends?” She stood, taking a challenging position in front of him. It was time he put this ridiculous notion that they could be friends out of his head. It would only make things harder in the long run. “Ones you don’t have sex with?”

“Yes,” he stated assuredly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sex of any kind,” she added, mimicking his stance.

His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You know, you’re awful judgmental for someone who showed up commando on my doorstep.”

She rolled her eyes at him, turning away to pick up her plate from the floor and take it to the kitchen. “I’m not judging you,” she announced over her shoulder. “You’re a grown man. If you want to whore yourself out to the entire city of New York, that’s your business. I’m just trying to be realistic, here. We are completely incompatible as friends.”

He was behind her, his heavy footsteps tracing hers. “If you didn’t want to be friends, why did you agree to hang out with me tonight?”

Her stomach cringed at the thought. She told herself it was her only excuse to get out of dinner, but it was more than that, even if she already pushed the notion out of her mind. “I just wanted a little peace and quiet,” she suggested.

“And you thought your best chance at peace and quiet was with me?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an arrogant asshole? Oh, wait—”

“Yes, I know. I got the memo. I get that I should have been paying closer attention to Drew, that I could have been a better teammate, and that I’ve shut everybody out. I’m working on it.”

“You’re working on it?” She laughed. “Is pissing Drew off part of your ‘be a better brother’ effort?”

“He doesn’t trust me.” His face strained when he spoke the words, his voice even in an attempt to hide the emotion his features couldn’t.

“So this being friends thing—it’s to prove a point to your brother?”

“No. If I wanted to prove a point, I’d just leave you the hell alone.”

“Then what is it?”

He stepped closer, leaning down so close his breath brushed across the tip of her nose. “That’s the thing, there is no point. I want to be friends, just to be friends. No ulterior motive, no hidden plot line. Just you and me—friends. It’s time we complete the whole Blakey-Rylander friendship circle we have going on.”

A part of her wanted his words to be true, but even if they were, she knew it would never work. “It’s too late for that,” she whispered, taking a step back.

He took a step forward, closing the distance and more. His hands rested on her hips. “Why?”

She very slowly reached up, taking hold of his arms and moved him backward. “Because you said yes.”

He raised his eyes in confusion, but there wasn’t enough time for him to question it, because his phone began to vibrate across the counter. She glanced over at it, a picture of a scantily clad woman popping on the screen.

The flash of jealousy that hit her system took her by surprise, and her face flushed with heat, similar to the way it had that first night when she’d stepped off the elevator and saw the half-dressed woman stalking away from his apartment.

“You have a phone call,” she announced through her teeth. “One of your other friends, I suppose.”

She had no right to feel jealous, and in fact, it made her mad at herself that she did. She had no claim on Henrik, and she didn’t want one. Except, as she glanced over at the flashing screen, she could feel her pulse begin to race with a territorial thud. This was exactly why they could never be friends.

His eyes flickered to the screen over his shoulder, and then back to her. “Answer it,” he challenged.

Her mouth dropped open. “I most certainly will not. I am not your pimp.”

The phone stopped buzzing, a voicemail popping up, but it didn’t dash the contempt she felt toward it. Henrik rolled his eyes. “You could have just said you had a problem with the women.”

“I do not have a problem,” she practically gasped. “I couldn’t care less what you do.”

“Yes, that scowl on your face really makes me believe you.”

She forced her features to fall flat, and as if he cued it, the phone began to ring again. Her gaze fell sideways to look at the screen.

It was the same woman. Again.

She was persistent, or a gold digging trollop. She was pretty sure she knew which as she glared over at the picture on the screen again.

“Go ahead,” he instructed, turning to stomp out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with the flashing phone. “Answer it. Answer all of them if that’s what it takes for you to drop this insane idea that we can’t be friends.”

She gritted her teeth, glancing back at the picture again. She blew out an annoyed breath before grabbing the phone and pushing the green button. He wasn’t serious. She knew Henrik too well. There was no way he would just let her answer all his calls and ruin his potential hookups. She’d take him up on his offer, he’d end up pissed off, and that would be the end of it.

“Hello,” she said simply, though it was loud enough that he would hear her in the next room. She hoped he was squirming in his seat.

It was silent on the other end for a moment before the female voice finally spoke up. “I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. I’m pretty sure you have the right one.” Her voice sounded snarky because she meant it to be. If Henrik wanted to play games, then she would make sure she won. “You’ve called it twice in a row now. This is Henrik’s house of regret and self-loathing. I’m his new secretary. Can I make you an appointment? When’s the soonest you’d like to be disappointed and forgotten about?”

She could have sworn she heard him laugh in the next room, which only made her blood boil. He should be pissed that she called his bluff.

“Excuse me?” the woman sputtered, bringing her attention back to the phone. “Who the hell is this?”

She huffed, tugging at the end of one of her long curls. “Trust me. That’s a complicated question at the moment.”

“Is this Leila?” the woman inquired in a high-pitched, snippy tone.

She immediately narrowed her eyes as ice flooded her simmering veins. “How do you know my name?”

The woman let out a frustrated grunt and hung up. She sat there staring at the phone, confused.

She rounded the corner into the living room, her voice already rising an octave. “How did that woman know my name?” she demanded.

Henrik, who had returned to his seat on the couch, casually propped his feet up on the coffee table before shrugging. “That’s the kind of thing friends discuss.”

“Obviously, you do want to discuss it, or you wouldn’t have told me to answer it. Was that the woman from the elevator?”

He smirked. “Still upset about her, huh?”

“Henrik.”

“No, it’s not the girl from the elevator.” He grinned. “Though I suspect she isn’t very fond of you either.”

“How did she know my name?” she repeated, each word seething out between her clenched teeth.

This time when he smiled, it almost sent her over the edge.

“Tell me!” She threw his phone at him. “Or next time you can grow some balls and piss off your own mistakes.”