by Sylvia Day
“Because you didn’t need to fall into that hole again. There are girls who can date rock stars; you’re not one of them. All that time on the road, all those groupies . . . You’d drive yourself and him insane.”
I shot him a look. “I’m in total agreement with you. But I’m insulted that you’d think I’d run back to him just because he made it big.”
“That’s not why. I didn’t want you to hear their first single if it could be helped.”
“‘Golden’?”
“Yeah . . .” He studied me as I headed toward the bathroom. “What’d you think of it?”
“It’s better than a song titled ‘Tapped That.’”
“Ha!” He waited until I came out again with my face washed and hair brushed. “So . . . you kissed him.”
“That’s the beginning and end of that story,” I said dryly. “Have you talked to Trey since Friday?”
“No. They’ve got my phone somewhere. My wallet, too, I’m guessing. When I came to, I was here, wearing this”—he pinched at his hospital gown—“freakin’ thing.”
“I’ll get your stuff for you.” I dumped my toiletries back in the bag, then went to sit in the chair beside him with my coffee in hand. “Gideon’s making arrangements to get you home with a private nurse.”
“Ooh . . . that’s a fantasy of mine. Can you make sure the nurse is hot? And single?”
My brows rose. Inside, though, I was so relieved to see him looking and sounding more like himself. “You’re obviously feeling better, if you’re feeling frisky. How did things go with Trey?”
“Good.” He sighed. “I’d worried that the party wouldn’t be his scene. I forgot that he knew a lot of the people already.”
Cary and Trey had met at a photo shoot, with Cary modeling and Trey assisting the photographer behind the camera. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
“Yeah. He was totally set on not getting laid.”
“So you tried . . . after you said you wouldn’t.”
“This is me we’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes. “Hell yeah, I tried. He’s hot and great in bed—”
“—and in love with you.”
He released his pent-up breath in a rush, wincing as his chest expanded. “No one’s perfect.”
I had to bite back a laugh. “Cary Taylor. Loving you isn’t a character defect.”
“Well, it’s not very smart. I was such an asshole to him,” he muttered, looking disgruntled. “He could do so much better.”
“That isn’t your decision to make for him.”
“Someone needs to make it.”
“And you’re volunteering because you love him, too.” My mouth curved. “Don’t you think that sounds ass-backwards?”
“I don’t love him enough.” All traces of levity were wiped from his face, leaving behind the wounded and lonely man I knew all too well. “I can’t be faithful like he wants. Just him and me. I like women. Love them, actually. I’d be cutting off half of who I am. Just thinking about it makes me resent him.”
“You fought too hard to accept yourself,” I said softly, remembering that time with more than a little twinge of sadness. “I totally understand and don’t disagree, but have you tried talking to Trey about it?”
“Yes, I talked to him about it. He listened.” He rubbed his fingers over his brow. “I get it, I do. If he told me he wanted to bang some other guy while seeing me, it’d bother the fuck out of me.”
“But not if it were a woman?”
“No. I don’t know. Shit.” His bloodshot green eyes pleaded with me. “Would it make a difference to you if Cross were banging another man? Or just another woman?”
The door opened and Gideon walked in. I held his gaze when I said, “If Gideon’s dick touched anything but his hand or me, we’d be over.”
His brows rose. “Well, then.”
I smiled sweetly and winked. “Hi, ace.”
“Angel.” He looked at Cary. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Cary’s lips twisted wryly. “Like I got hit by a bus . . . or a bat.”
“We’re working on getting you set up at home. It looks like we can make that happen by Wednesday.”
“Big tits, please,” Cary said. “Or bulging muscles. Either will do.”
Gideon looked at me.
I grinned. “The private nurse.”
“Ah.”
“If it’s a woman,” Cary went on, “can you get her to wear one of those white nurse dresses with the zipper down the front.”
“I can only imagine the media frenzy over that sexual-harassment lawsuit,” Gideon said dryly. “How about a collection of naughty-nurse porn instead?”
“Dude.” Cary smiled wide and looked, for a moment, like his old self. “You’re the man.”
Gideon looked at me. “Eva.”
I stood and bent over to kiss Cary on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
We stepped out of the room and I saw my mother in conversation with the doctor, who looked dazzled by her.
“I talked to Garrity this morning,” Gideon said, referring to Mark, my boss. “So don’t worry about that.”
I hadn’t been, because he said he’d handle it. “Thank you. I’ll need to go in tomorrow. I’m going to see if I can get hold of Trey, Cary’s boyfriend. Maybe he can stop in while I’m at work.”
“Let me know if you need any help with that.” Gideon glanced at his watch. “You’ll want to stay here again tonight?”
“Yes, if that’s possible. Until Cary comes home.”
He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. “All right. I have a lot of work to catch up on. Charge your cell so I can reach you.”
I heard a faint buzzing. Gideon backed away and reached into an inner jacket pocket to withdraw his phone. He read the screen, then said, “I have to get this. I’ll talk to you later.”
Then he was gone, striding down the hallway as quickly as he’d arrived.
“He’s going to marry you,” my mother said, coming up to stand beside me. “You know that, don’t you?”
I didn’t, no. I still felt a little flare of gratitude every morning when I woke up and realized that we were still together. “What makes you say that?”
My mother looked at me with her baby blue eyes. It was one of the rare physical traits we didn’t share. “He’s completely taken you over and assumed control of everything.”
“That’s just his nature.”
“That’s the nature of all powerful men,” she said, reaching up to fuss with my no-nonsense ponytail. “And he’ll indulge you, because he’s making an investment in you. You’re an asset to him. You’re beautiful, well bred and well connected, and independently wealthy. You’re also in love with him and he can’t take his eyes off you. I bet he can’t keep his hands off you, either.”
“Mother, please.” I was so not in the mood for one of her lectures on the fine points of catching and marrying a rich man.
“Eva Lauren,” she scolded, facing me directly. “I don’t care if you listen to me because I’m your mother and you have to—or because you love him and don’t want to lose him, but you will listen.”
“Like I have a choice,” I muttered.
“You’re an asset now,” she repeated. “See that your life choices don’t make you a liability.”
“Are you talking about Cary?” Anger sharpened my voice.
“I’m talking about the bruise on Gideon’s jaw! Tell me that has nothing to do with you.”
I flushed.
She tsked. “I knew it. Yes, he’s your lover and you see an intimate side to him that few see, but don’t ever forget that he’s also Gideon Cross. You’ve got everything you need to be the perfect wife for a man of his stature, but you’re still replaceable, Eva. What he’s built is not. You jeopardize his empire and he’ll leave you.”
My jaw tightened. “Are you done?”
She ran her fingertips over my brows, her gaze shrewd and assessing. I knew she was givi
ng me a mini-makeover in her mind, thinking of ways to improve what she’d given me from birth. “You think I’m a coldhearted gold digger, but my concern is maternal, believe it or not. I want very desperately for you to be with a man who has the money and wherewithal to guard you with everything he has, so I’ll know you’re safe. And I want you to be with a man you love.”
“I’ve found him.”
“And I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. I’m thrilled he’s young and still open to taking risks, so he’s more forgiving and understanding of your . . . quirks. And he knows,” she whispered, her gaze softening and growing liquid. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m trying to say. Don’t give him any reason to turn away from you.”
“If he did, that wouldn’t be love.”
Her lips curved wryly and she pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Come now. You’re my daughter. You can’t be that naïve.”
“Eva!”
I turned at the sound of my name and felt a rush of relief to see Trey hurrying toward me. He was of average height and nicely muscular, with unruly blond hair, hazel eyes, and a slight angle to his nose that told me it’d been broken at some point. He was dressed in faded, frayed jeans and a T-shirt, and I was struck by the fact that he wasn’t Cary’s usual flashy type. For once, it seemed, the attraction had been more than skin deep.
“I just found out,” he said when he reached me. “Detectives came by my work this morning and questioned me. I can’t believe this happened Friday night and I’m only just finding out about it.”
I couldn’t hold his slightly accusatory tone against him. “I just found out early this morning myself. I was out of town.”
After a quick introduction between my mother and Trey, she excused herself to go sit with Cary, leaving me to elaborate on the information Trey had gleaned from the detectives.
Trey shoved his hands through his hair, making it look even messier. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d taken him with me when I left.”
“You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“Who else do I blame for the fact that he’s screwing around with another guy’s girl?” He gripped the back of his neck. “I’m the one who’s not enough for him. He’s got the drive of a hormonal teenager and I’m working or in school all the damn time.”
Ugh. Total TMI. It was a struggle not to wince. But I understood that Trey likely didn’t have anyone else he felt comfortable discussing Cary with.
“He’s bisexual, Trey,” I said softly, reaching out to run a comforting hand down his biceps. “That doesn’t mean you’re lacking.”
“I don’t know how to live with this.”
“Would you consider counseling? With both of you, I mean.”
He looked at me with haunted eyes for a long minute; then his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. I think I have to decide if I can live with him cheating. Could you do it, Eva? Could you sit at home waiting for your man, knowing he was sticking it somewhere else?”
“No.” An icy shiver coursed through me at the mere words. “No, I couldn’t.”
“And I don’t even know if Cary would agree to counseling. He keeps pushing me away. He wants me, and then he doesn’t. He’s committed, and then he isn’t. I want in, Eva, like he’s let you in, but he keeps shutting me out.”
“It took me a long time to break through to him. He tried pushing me away with sex, always coming on to me, taunting me. I think you made the right decision keeping it platonic on Friday. Cary puts his value on his looks and sex appeal. You need to show him that it’s not just his body you want.”
Trey sighed and crossed his arms. “Is that how you two got close? Because you wouldn’t sleep with him?”
“Partly. Mostly it’s because I’m a mess. It’s not as obvious now as it was when we met, but he knows I’m not perfect.”
“Neither am I! Who is?”
“He believes you’re better than he is, that you deserve better.” I grinned. “Me . . . well, I bet part of him thinks I deserve him. That we deserve each other.”
“Crazy fucker,” he muttered.
“He is that,” I agreed. “That’s why we love him, isn’t it? Do you want to go in and see him? Or do you want to go home and think about it?”
“No, I want to see him.” Trey’s shoulders rolled back and his chin lifted. “I don’t care what put him here. I want to be with him while he’s going through this.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” I linked my arm with his and led him to Cary’s room.
We entered to the sound of my mother’s trilling, girlish laughter. She sat on the edge of the bed, with Cary smiling adoringly at her. She was as much a mother to him as she was to me, and he loved her so much for that. His own mother had hated him, abused him, and allowed others to abuse him.
He looked over and saw us, and the emotions that swept across his face in that moment caused a tightness in my chest. I heard Trey’s breath catch as he got his first sight of Cary’s condition. I kicked myself for not telling him in advance not to make the mistake of getting weepy like I had.
Trey cleared his throat. “Drama queen,” he said with gruff affection. “If you wanted flowers, you should’ve just asked for them. This is extreme.”
“And ineffective, apparently,” Cary rejoined hoarsely, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I don’t see any flowers.”
“I see a ton.” Trey’s gaze did a brief slide across the room, then went back to Cary. “Just wanted to see what I was up against, so I could beat out my competition.”
There was no way to miss the double meaning in that statement.
My mom rose from the bed. She leaned over and kissed Cary’s cheek. “I’ll take Eva out to breakfast. We’ll see you in about an hour or so.”
“Gimme a sec,” I said, passing the bed quickly, “and I’ll get out of your hair, guys.”
I grabbed my phone and charger out of my bag and plugged it into an outlet by the window.
As soon as the screen flickered to life, I sent a quick group text message to Shawna and my dad, saying simply: I’ll call later. Then I made sure my phone was silenced and left it on the window ledge.
“Ready?” my mom asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Chapter 13
I had to get up before dawn Tuesday morning. I left a note for Cary where he’d see it as soon as he woke up, then headed out to grab a cab back to our place. I showered, dressed, made coffee, and tried to talk myself out of feeling like something was off. I was stressed and suffering from lack of sleep, which always led to tiny bouts of depression.
I told myself that it had nothing to do with Gideon, but the knot in my stomach said differently.
Looking at the clock, I saw it was a little after eight. I’d have to leave soon, because Gideon hadn’t called or texted to say that he’d be giving me a ride. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him or even really talked to him. The call I’d made to him at nine the night before had been less than brief. He’d been in the middle of something and barely said hello and good-bye.
I knew he had a lot of work to do. I knew I shouldn’t resent him for having to pay for the time away with extra hours of work getting caught up. He’d done a lot to help me deal with Cary’s situation, more than anyone could’ve expected. It was up to me to deal with how I was feeling about it.
Finishing my coffee, I rinsed out my mug, then grabbed my purse and bag on the way out. My tree-lined street was quiet, but the rest of New York was wide awake, its ceaseless energy thrumming with a tangible force. Women in chic office wear and men in suits tried to hail taxis that streaked by, before settling for packed buses or the subway instead. Flower stands exploded with brilliant color, the sight of them always capable of cheering me up in the morning, as did the sight and smell of the neighborhood bakery, which was doing a brisk business at that hour.
I was a little ways down Broadway before my phone rang.
The little thrill that shot through me at the si
ght of Gideon’s name quickened my steps. “Hey, stranger.”
“Where the hell are you?” he snapped.
A frisson of unease dampened my excitement. “I’m on my way to work.”
“Why?” He spoke to someone offline, then, “Are you in a cab?”
“I’m walking. Jeez. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”
“You should have waited to be picked up.”
“I didn’t hear from you, and I didn’t want to be late after missing work yesterday.”
“You could’ve called me instead of just taking off.” His voice was low and angry.
I became angry, too. “The last time I called, you were too busy to give me more than a minute of your time.”
“I’ve got things to take care of, Eva. Give me a break.”
“Sure thing. How about now?” I hung up and dropped my phone back into my bag.
It began ringing again immediately and I ignored it, my blood simmering. When the Bentley pulled up beside me a few minutes later, I kept walking. It followed, the front passenger window sliding down.
Angus leaned over. “Miss Tramell, please.”
I paused, looking at him. “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
With a sigh, I got in the car. My phone was still ringing nonstop, so I reached in and shut the ringer off. One block later, I heard Gideon’s voice coming through the car’s speakers.
“Do you have her?”
“Yes, sir,” Angus replied.
The line cut out.
“What the hell crawled up his ass and died?” I asked, looking at Angus in the rearview mirror.
“He’s got a lot on his mind.”
Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t me. I couldn’t believe what a jerk he was being. He’d been curt on the phone the night before, too, but not rude.
Within a few minutes after I arrived at work, Mark came up to my cubicle. “I’m sorry to hear about your roommate,” he said, setting a fresh cup of coffee on my desk. “Is he going to be all right?”
“Eventually. Cary’s tough; he’ll pull through.” I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk and picked up the steaming mug with gratitude. “Thank you. And thanks for yesterday, too.”
