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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.26ChelseaI 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. It’s not a one-way street. You can open up to me and I won’t hurt you, I promise, but if you don’t give me a chance, I can’t help.
I’d tried and tried to think of the right words to express all the frustration and confusion I felt, but nothing had seemed right. I eventually decided to just wing it when I got out, but he was gone.
I quickly threw on my clothes. A stupid part of me thought back to last night—to Trish and how supremely confident she’d been. If Damon was really bound to her by something—whether it was blackmail or personal weakness—what would happen if she’d asked him to come over for an early morning booty call?
Stupid. I knew I was being stupid, but one of the worst things about being stupid was self-awareness wasn’t always a cure.
I headed outside our hotel and started walking an aimless circle, not even knowing what I was looking for. The only thing I could think of was the offhanded comment Damon had made when I was still keeping pace with him on our jog. He’d grunted that a breakfast place looked good, and it was only a few minutes from our hotel.
