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“You have nothing—” he stabbed a finger at my chest “—nothing at all I want to hear. And we sure as hell have nothing to talk about!”
“If you won’t hear me out for the sake of our friendship, think of Ava!”
His face became murderous. “Don’t say her name.”
“This is killing her.”It’s killing me.“You probably hate me right now. Hell, I’d hate me, too, if I was in your shoes. I fucked up. I know. But we need to fix this for her sake.”
Thomas shut his eyes, the tendon in his neck jumping.
I waited.
“For Ava.”
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.
He opened his eyes and threw me a scathing look. “You better have a damn good reason for why this happened.”
He turned and headed back inside, leaving the door ajar.
I glanced behind me before following him into the house. Here’s to hoping I could convince him my reason was a good one.
Thomas stalked to the kitchen. He grabbed the refrigerator door and jerked it open.
He rummaged around and grabbed a bottle of beer. His fingers grazed a second but he withdrew his hand and slammed the door close. He popped off the cap.
After a long swallow, he slammed the bottle down and folded his beefy arms across his chest. “Start talking.”
Here goes nothing…
“I never planned this, Thomas.”
“You mean me finding out you were sleeping with my daughter?”
I cringed. “I didn’t know who she was. I was new in Hannibal, and I went to Busters. That’s where we met.”
He frowned. “That was before you came over for dinner.”
“Yes.”
I clenched my teeth over my ignorance. I should have seen the resemblance. But Ava swept me away that first night.
And every day since.
I brought my head back to the present. “I should have known, but it’d been years since I was here. I had no idea who she was, Thomas.”
He looked down at the island, his brows knotted. “I guess you couldn't have known—” His gaze shot up. “But you knew who she was the night you came over for dinner?”
I gritted my teeth. “I did.”
“And you kept seeing her after that?!”
“No—not at first. It was supposed to be a one-time thing.”
“You wanted to use her and leave her?”
“Jesus, Thomas! She’s a woman, not a child, and if she wants to be casual, that's her decision!”
If Thomas’s eyes could shoot daggers, I’d be dead. But he didn’t respond.
