“Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t have more of you.”
“Damon… Trish was here. She stopped me on the way into the restroom. She said something weird about how you were her ‘bitch.’ What is she talking about?”
I hadn’t realized it until the words left me, but it felt like a test. If Damon could finally trust me and open up, maybe I could tell him the truth about Luna. God. I still dreaded that conversation, because I knew I wasn’t completely in the right for keeping the truth from him. Then again, I was willing to be wrong to protect Luna, and that was what it always kept coming back to.
Damon shook his head. “Trish will say anything she can to fuck with me. That’s all.”
“Damon…”
“That’s all,” he said again, more firmly.
And just like that, I felt my resolution to tell him about Luna slip away once again.
25
Damon
It was Sunday, and that meant Chelsea and I were still booked in the same hotel room for one more day. After the disaster of a dinner with Trevor and the quick conversation that made Chelsea go mute on me afterwards, we’d slept separately and barely spoken.
I woke before the sun rose, but I already heard the shower running. The door was closed, and I had no doubt it was locked.
We’d been on the brink of something, but it felt like everything split apart in a single moment last night. She wanted to know what Trish was talking about, and I didn’t want to say.
Was that all it took? Was everything between us really so fragile?
I threw on some clothes, smoothed my bed-messed hair with my hands, and headed out from our hotel room. I needed to talk to Trish.
I sent her a text telling her to meet me at a breakfast place not far from my hotel. I had no idea if she’d show, so I got seated in the corner and ordered some eggs and coffee while I waited.
It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes before Trish entered. It was early as hell, but she already looked like she’d spent hours applying makeup and fussing with her hair. I remembered how that had driven me crazy when I was with her. She’d been pretty without all the fuss, but she insisted on dumping hours in front of the mirror every day. It made me think about how Chelsea barely wore any makeup. I was no expert, but as far as I could tell, she just wore a little eyeliner. I was sure she probably used some other mysterious, womanly tools of beautification, but it couldn’t have been much.
Damn it. I was thinking about her already. Comparing. Torturing myself by thinking about how much better she was than Trish—the one woman I’d been dumb enough to try to love.
Trish undid the button on her cashmere coat, revealing a tight-fitting blue dress that hugged her curves and breasts. She sat down, then folded her hands in front of herself quietly.
“Why are you still fucking with me?” I asked.
“That’s why you wanted to meet?” Trish asked. She leaned in her eyes lit with anger. “Did your silly, ridiculously short little blondie get mad after what I said? Is that it?”
I was careful not to let any of my annoyance show. “You got everything you wanted when you left. That was the deal. I let you take what you wanted, and you’d leave.”
“Maybe I’m bored of our arrangement. Besides, you knew I was courting Trevor Castle for Jameson Reps. From where I’m sitting, you’re the one who started this.”
“We’re both professionals.” One of us is, at least. “We’re occasionally going to have our eyes on the same athletes. It doesn’t need to turn into whatever you’re trying to make this.”
Trish ran her tongue across her lip, as if considering something. “I want to make us work again.”
I had to sit back and replay what she’d just said several times to be sure I’d heard her right. “What? You broke things off with me. You were very thorough in burning a trail of destruction in your wake, too. Why would I ever remotely consider taking you back?”
“Because I get you. I know your soft spots. I know all your secrets, Damon. Blondie doesn’t. I could see it in her eyes last night. You haven’t even told her as much as you told me. Like it or not, you need me. You were whole when you were with me, and now you’re just a shell of who you were.”
I shook my head. “I’m not having this conversation with you. And just to be sure we’re crystal clear. No. In every sense of the word, no. You and I will never happen again. So if it’s jealousy driving you to try to put a wedge between Chelsea and I, then fuck off.”
Trish smiled. “If I can’t have you, why should she get you?”
“Trish,” I warned.
She got up, then picked up my cup of coffee and sipped. “Mmm. You and I always did like it exactly the same. Didn’t we?”
She left the restaurant, and I found myself wondering if I’d just stoked the flames instead of putting them out.
26
Chelsea
I had trouble sleeping, so I woke up early Sunday morning and showered. When I got up, Damon had been asleep on the couch still, his huge body gently rocking with each breath. I’d guiltily watched him for a while, then reminded myself I needed to keep my guard up. I didn’t need to be standing there in the faint light of morning admiring the way the rising sun lit his profile, or how painfully kissable his lips were.
When I got out of the shower, he was gone. I’d been rehearsing what I was going to say while the water poured over me.
You need to learn to trust me, or I won’t ever be able to trust you.
