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And I’m not anybody’s fool. Ever.
* * *
AVA
Damon’s quiet the entire drive home. It’s been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. Mom still isn’t talking to me despite my best efforts to reach out to her. I need her more than I ever thought I would. But while she’s mad at me, Damon’s here, and he makes everything better.
It seems crazy that I can’t imagine not having him with me. Seems crazy that a few months ago we were at each other’s throats. I guess not everything happens the way you think it will. Not everyone is who they appear to be at first glance. More than anyone, I should’ve known that after Marsh.
The quiet when we walk into the apartment is odd. Unlike he usually does, Damon heads straight to the kitchen. Normally he gets changed into sweats and then we figure dinner out together, but today he’s gone straight to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.
I guess his afternoon wasn’t any better than my morning.
Dropping my purse by the breakfast bar, I head toward the bedroom. I need to change out of these clothes.
“Where were you last week?” he asks dryly as I start for the corridor to the bedroom.
I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest because I know exactly what he’s asking, and I’ve been dreading this conversation. Especially after he was given access to my schedule.
I turn, trying to figure out the best way to tell him where I was, because I don’t want him to freak out. And I know he’s going to lose his shit. God, I’m barely hanging on by a thread with the weight and pressure of finding the best way to tell him. Every time I’ve thought I was ready, the words get stuck in my throat.
“Dammit, Ava!” His voice booms around me, making me shudder. “Where the fuck were you?”
He seems so angry. Maybe he already knows.
Of course he doesn’t.
It’s impossible. The only person that knows is Lacie because I had to talk to someone. I had to know that I wasn’t being stupid or…I don’t know. Things with Damon have moved so fast. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, but—
“Start fucking talking,” he bites out before he throws what’s left of his red wine down his throat. “Now!”
I take a moment to gather myself, stupidly, because it only makes him angrier. Refilling his glass, Damon looks up at me. There’s so much hurt and indignation on his face that I can’t hold his stare.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about Hayden and Hart Cam?” He takes another measured gulp of his wine. “What? You were going to leave me like you left Monroe? High and dry?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I gave you everything you wanted. Everything you never had at Monroe…wasn’t it enough? You had to go behind my back?”
“I didn’t…I—”
“Then why were you meeting with Hayden fucking Hearst instead of Robert Rhodes?”
All the blood drains from my head to my feet. And I curse this day for ever happening because it just keeps getting shittier.
I wander over to the breakfast bar, standing opposite him with the counter between us.
“I bumped into Hayden at the bar I was meeting Lacie at. He came over and we spoke briefly. He asked if I was happy at CPM—”
Cutting me off with an acerbic laugh, he barks, “I bet he did.”
The hurt and anger twisting his beautiful features sucker punches me in the stomach, causing me to feel more nauseous than I’ve been the last week. This Damon is completely new to me. I thought I’d seen his worst, but this beats all the mean, cantankerous sides I’ve met.
“Well, don’t keep me hanging. What did you tell him?”
“I am where I belong.” The bitter expression on his face falls straight, flat, as though this wasn’t what he was expecting. “It wasn’t a meeting, Damon. It lasted all of two minutes.”
He remains quiet, nursing his wine. I’m about to walk away again when he asks, “Then why did you lie?”
