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“Yeah, she didn’t mention she dated a neurosurgeon before the Neanderthal?”
That was it. My fist reared back and struck him straight in the jaw.
“Oh my God, Wes!” Lennon’s expression turned from shock to outrage. “What are you thinking?”
I looked down at the man lying on the floor. His date hovered over him as he sat up, rubbing the swollen spot on his chin.
“I wasn’t.” The rage was still spilling through me.
She grabbed my hand. “We have to get out of here. Come on.” She pulled me out of the restaurant and hailed a taxi. We were back at the hotel within minutes.
Once we were inside the suite, she spun to face me. “Let me see your hand.”
“My hand? It’s fine.”
“Let me see,” she ordered.
I extended my left arm. “I didn’t punch him with my right. I know better than that.”
She smiled. “And he thought you were a Neanderthal.” She rubbed her fingers over my knuckles tenderly. “Let me get some ice from the bar. Hold on.”
I sat on the edge of the bed while she tended to my bruised knuckles. Really, it didn’t feel like much. I thought that was one of the side effects of the HGH. I felt almost indestructible. My entire body felt younger and stronger.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had an ex in D.C.?”
“You didn’t ask.” She removed the makeshift icepack from my hand. “But I thought about it.” When she looked at me, I saw the mist covering her eyes and the heaviness of tears brimming on her bottom lids.
“Your dad was right.”
“My dad? What does he have to do with any of this?”
One tear slipped and it ripped at my chest. Why was she crying?
“I ran into your parents in the lobby today on the way back from shopping. He and I had a conversation. Not a good one.”
I growled. The man never could keep his opinions to himself. “What did he say to you?”
“He said I was a distraction. He said I’d ruin your game. He called me flavor of the week.” And with that, the rest of the tears fell down her soft cheeks. She crumpled against my chest and I wrapped my arms around her.
“Am I expendable to you?”
“What? No. No.”
The rage that had built from jealousy and my dad’s bullish words softened as she sobbed against my chest. I smoothed her hair and whispered in her ear. “My dad is an asshole. You know that.”
“But he’s right.” She gulped for air. “I should have told you about Ben before. Look what happened in the restaurant.” Her mascara was smudged and there were spots on my dress shirt, but I didn’t give a shit. “I wanted to tell you about him. I need to, but I was trying to wait for when the timing was better. Like maybe after the Super Bowl?”
I played with her hair, feeling the silkiness between my fingers. “You might as well tell me now.”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Let’s talk about the bastard.”
“We were in the same residency program. That’s how we met,” she explained. “And eventually we moved in together, but kind of like a roommate thing. And then roommates led to us being together. At least, I thought we were together until I came home and he was screwing someone else.”
“Shit,” I whispered.
“Yeah, shit.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “It’s the reason I took the job at San Antonio Mission. I wanted to get out of D.C. Away from him. Away from the humiliation. I wanted to start over where there were no lies.”
