"You told me it was a friend that was helping you with the job," she shot back.
"Yes, she was the friend."
"How long have you known this friend?" she asked.
Steve's shoulders slumped, his eyes sliding shut. He let out a long sigh, the sound of a man burying himself alive. "She is my ex-girlfriend."
Ivy barked a laugh. "Which is exactly what I'm about to be. But don't hold your breath, because unlike her, I won't be granting you any favors in the future for sexual gratification." She moved to step past him, but Steve shifted in front of her, blocking the path.
"Ivy, this is also your fault," he blurted, desperation bleeding through the words.
She froze, her eyes narrowing, heat rising in her chest. For a split second, the audacity almost made her laugh again. Then it hit her—fault? Her fault? The man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants was blaming her?
Her fingers itched to slap him. Her lips trembled with the words lining up, a whole arsenal of cutting truths. Fault?
