Page 18 of Inked Nights

“I know, Mom. I know. What can I do?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing anyone can do. I hate this, Derek. Why can’t everything go back to how I need it to? Why did it all have to change?”

“I’m sorry, Mom. There’s nothing I can say to make it better. Nothing I can say ever makes it better. But I’m here. And if you need me, I’ll sit with you right now.”

She let out a long sigh that went straight to his heart. “I’m sorry for calling. I don’t need you. I just need my family back.”

He was her family, too, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he listened in silence for a few more moments before she hung up on him, then he took his phone to his room and changed into a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. He quickly stuffed his clothes from the washer into the dryer since he’d used the quick cycle and then grabbed his keys and headed to his car.

He’d go sit with his mom and just listen. She more than likely wouldn’t have anything to say to him, but then again, she rarely did. But he’d be there for her as he always was. He hated that she was constantly in pain about things that were out of both his and her control, but he’d try to help her now.

He hadn’t been able to protect his sister when it mattered most. He hadn’t been enough for his father when times had gotten too rough and leaving had seemed the easier choice. So Derek would be damned if he gave up on his mother when she was at her worst.

And even as he slid into his car and headed down the familiar roads to his mother’s house, a different one than the one he’d grown up in since that had been too much for everyone, Olivia’s face flashed through his mind.

Tomorrow was supposed to be their night. That was when he was going to take a risk. And yet it seemed so much harder when his past kept coming back and hitting him hard in the face with each phone call from his mother.

Life was never easy, but living after the dead had moved on and you hadn’t was harder than he’d ever thought possible.

Chapter Seven

A week had passed, and Olivia couldn’t catch her breath. Why had she waited until the hotel to see him again? She should have been the adult and gone over to Austin and Sierra’s and asked for Derek’s number. It would have been better for everyone if she’d been able to tell Derek what she needed to without being in a place with so many shared memories between them. Now, she’d either have to make a public scene in the hotel bar or risk going up to the room that he no doubt had already arranged. It would likely be a different room than all the others before, but it would still feel like theirs. It didn’t matter if the bed had been updated, if the view from the window was different, or if they’d found themselves on each floor over the years. It would still be their room. And once the door closed behind her, she’d have to tell him who she was so he’d know the truth.

A small part of her hoped that he’d understand. That he’d know that she hadn’t kept it from him for years, only the past month as she pieced herself together once she figured out who he was. A small part of her held the dreams where he would say he understood and still kiss her. Still want her. That he’d forgive her for what had happened all those years ago and they would be able to be again.

But that piece was a liar. She knew that. Because no matter how nice the hotel was, no matter the leather seats and ornate molding, she didn’t fit here. Neither did he. They had been playing a part all these years, a role that had been a lie—even if she hadn’t understood it at the time. Because their rules had meant nothing in the end. She’d still ended up falling, still ended up making connections. And she had no idea what to do about it. Or rather, she knew what she should do even if it would hurt her more than she thought possible.

She didn’t want to lose him.

Yet, she’d never really had him.

She’d made the choice to show up at the hotel, made a decision to dress like she normally did for their encounters, so she could have some form of armor for what she needed to tell him. And yet, some part of her knew that if Derek kissed her first, she might go weak and let him love her one last time before she lost it all.

He deserved far more than that, but she knew tonight would be their last time.

She was going to go to hell paved with those good intentions, and once again, she had to fight for breath.

She wore a deep purple dress that hugged her torso, tucked in around her waist and flared out at her thighs. It had layers and swaths to hug her curves while being flowy at the same time. She loved this dress but knew she might not wear it again if Derek were to push her out of his life forever.

Once she told him who she was now that she truly knew, there would be no happily ever after for her. There would be no talking it over and trying to remember the good times.

There would be no more D and O.

She held back a smile, thinking of the little jokes they’d made at the fact that he was D and she was O. It might have been immature, but they’d both laughed, both smiled, then had both fallen back into bed together.

They’d done that often.

“Is this seat taken?”

She closed her eyes at the sound of his deep voice. She didn’t turn, wasn’t sure she could face him, but then she reminded herself that tonight wasn’t about her. It was about Derek and what she needed to tell him.

So she sucked in a deep breath, ignored the tightening in her belly, and turned on her stool to face him. She lifted her chin, gesturing for him to sit down. She wasn’t sure she could formulate the words just then. She would, though. The martini near her elbow remained untouched, and as he took the seat next to her, she licked her lips.

His gaze went to the action, and she could have cursed herself for doing that. She couldn’t lead him on, but neither could she stop her physical responses when it came to being in Derek’s presence.

“That’s a new dress. I like it.”

He must have looked at her as he walked up to the bar because his eyes were only on hers now. She loved the way his eyes locked on hers, the way she could tell so much about him just from the way he looked at her. She knew those eyes, knew them as the man he was, and now that she focused, she could see the fragments of memories from when he was the boy who had gotten annoyed when she followed him around because she’d fallen in love with her best friend’s older brother. Of course, she hadn’t been old enough to actually love him beyond a childhood crush.