Stephanie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, placing the carton back into the refrigerator. Sitting down at the kitchen table opposite her roommate, she took a piece of toast off her plate, grinning when Gena scowled.
“Where were you last night? At Ben’s?” Gena asked, chewing her toast slowly.
Stephanie shook her head. “At Outlaws,” she confessed, leaning back in her chair and yawning tiredly.
“Again?” Gena asked, studying her friend. Observing the dark smudges underneath her friend’s eyes and the fatigue in her face, she asked carefully, “What time did you get to sleep?”
“About an hour ago,” Stephanie replied, shrugging carelessly. “After Outlaws, I went to 25 with Dom, and we sat around talking until seven this morning. Then I came home and crashed.”
“You should have stayed in bed,” Gena said softly before she paused, her eyes narrowing speculatively. “Who exactly is Dom?”
“He owns Outlaws,” Stephanie said, shrugging again. “It’s not a big deal. We’re friends.”
“You’re friends?” Gena echoed in disbelief.
“Yes, we’re friends,” she said absentmindedly, smearing peanut butter on her toast and taking another bite.
Gena opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again when another of their roommates walked into the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at the sight of Lyn dressed in a matching skintight gym outfit, her face carefully made up with makeup. She adored her friend, but she would never understand her. Looking down at her own black running shorts, New York Police Academy T-shirt and her runners, she grinned. How Lyn—someone who never left the house without her perfectly made-up face and skintight designer clothing—could be friends with her— someone who lived in runners–was beyond her. But they were.
Glancing across at Stephanie, who was staring blankly out the window, she smiled. Stephanie was the main reason they were friends. She was the common denominator between the three of them.
“Stephanie, a little birdie told me you were at 25 at some god-awful hour this morning with a delish guy who was definitely not Ben,” Lyn said coyly, perching on the chair beside Gena. Gena rolled her eyes when Lyn reached over and picked up a piece of toast from her plate, nibbling on it delicately.
“She has a new friend,” Gena said with a snort.
Lyn looked at Gena and Stephanie before she burst into laughter, clutching her stomach tightly. Stephanie scowled, reaching over and whacking Lyn on the arm. “What’s so funny?”
“You don’t do friendships with guys,” Lyn said, delicately wiping her eyes and smirking at Stephanie. “Like, never. Ever.”
“I can have male friends. Ben and I were friends before we started dating,” Stephanie protested.
“Yes, and now you’re lovers. Before Ben, there was Dylan. And before Dylan, there was Patrick, Sean, Michael and Alex. All of whom started off just as friends before they quickly became lovers,” Gena said, grinning at her friend. “Face it, Stephanie, you suck at just being friends with guys.”
“It’s different this time,” Stephanie insisted, smiling shyly at Gena. “I really like him.”
“Oh Jesus,” Gena muttered under her breath. “Poor Ben. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
“When you dump Ben for Mr. Gorgeous, let me know. Ben is sexy, and I’ll be his rebound girl anytime,” Lyn said, flashing Stephanie a grin when she scowled. “What? Just because he’s your boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m blind. Honey, what that man does to a pair of jeans is heaven on earth, and when he’s in front of a mic and has a guitar in his hand . . . my God, he’s sexy.”
“Thanks for telling me just how much my boyfriend turns you on, Lyn.” Stephanie said, in annoyance. Absentmindedly, she reached for Gena’s coffee, taking a deep sip. “I have no intention of breaking up with Ben in the near future. Dominic and I are just friends, and that’s not going to change.”
“So, you’re not attracted to him?” Gena drawled, watching her friend shrug nonchalantly.
“He’s okay to look at, I guess,” Stephanie lied, grinning when Gena took the coffee cup off her and raised it to her own lips.
“Uh-huh, sure he is. Angel said he was drop-dead, certifiably gorgeous. And you know when Angel Monroe says so, you better damn well believe it,” Lyn sang, smirking when Stephanie blushed and ducked her head shyly.
“Holy shit, you’re blushing,” Gena breathed, chuckling when Stephanie reddened further. “He’s that hot, huh? Maybe you should introduce him to one of us,” she added, jokingly.
Stephanie’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “He’s got a girlfriend already,” she said icily. “And, even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t do that to him. He’s not some stud you can just hook up with. He’s a nice guy.”
“But you’re just friends, huh?” Gena mocked, shaking her head when Stephanie glared at her. She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, if you say you’re just friends, then you’re just friends.”
“We are just friends,” Stephanie said between gritted teeth. “I know you both think I’m incapable of being friends with a guy, but you’re wrong. I like Dominic. We hung out all last night, and nothing happened. All we did was talk.”
“Steph, if you say he’s a friend, then that’s good enough for me,” Lyn said, standing up and walking around the table. Leaning down, she hugged Stephanie quickly and smiled at her. “I’ve got to run. I’ve got an acting workshop this morning before class this afternoon. Are we still okay for dinner tonight?”
Watching both Gena and Stephanie nod, she grinned, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Maybe you should invite the gorgeous Dominic to join us.” She ducked when Stephanie picked up a piece of toast and threw it at her. “Hey, I mean, since he’s your friend and all.”
“Get out,” Stephanie ordered with a mock scowl, shaking her head in amusement when Lyn practically skipped out of the room.
“So, tell me about Dominic,” Gena said, standing up and moving to the sink. Placing her plate on the countertop, she picked up the coffeepot and a coffee mug and moved back to the table. Silently she poured a cup for Stephanie, handing it to her.
Stephanie took it, cradling the mug gently in her hands. “I like him, Gena. I really like him. He makes me feel safe, and I can talk to him about everything. I feel like anything I tell him, he won’t share with anyone.”
“You trust him,” Gena said, hiding her surprise. Stephanie didn’t trust anyone, ever. She’d met Stephanie five months ago when she’d moved across the hall from her and Angel. The night she’d arrived, she had woken to a woman’s screams and instinctively followed the sound across the hallway. Slamming her fist against the door, she’d repeated the process, certain someone was in trouble. Angel had answered the door, ushering her inside.
Apologizing for the screams, Angel had told Gena in hushed tones that her roommate was having a nightmare. Gena hadn’t believed it. The person she’d heard screaming had been in so much agony that it had sent a ripple of terror through her. Pushing past Angel, she’d followed the screams into a bedroom only to find a woman rocking back and forth on the bed, trembling in terror.
Angel had quietly explained to her that Stephanie sometimes had nightmares. It had been a major understatement. Night after night, her screams woke up the whole dorm until the dorm’s Residential Advisor kindly suggested they look for a place off campus.
Gena had taken one look at the young woman who looked so vulnerable and fragile, and instantly bonded with her. She knew only too well how strong demons could be, and how easily they could drag you down. Shortly after their first meeting, she’d found herself moving into an apartment with Angel, Stephanie and Carolyn. A month after they moved into the apartment, Stephanie stopped sleeping at night. Instead, she kept herself busy, pushing herself as hard as possible. The second month they were here, she’d started going out late and bringing home random strangers.
She grimaced as she remembered how, morning after morning, she’d walk into the kitchen and come face to f
ace with some guy Stephanie had picked up the night before. The destructive behavior had concerned Angel, Lyn and herself, until they had finally laid down the law and told Stephanie the random one-night stands had to go. Shortly after, Stephanie had met Ben. Gena honestly thought things would normalize, and in the beginning it seemed as if they had. Then, a month ago, Stephanie’s nightmares returned, and she began disappearing night after night.
Gena had followed her one evening, worried about her friend’s self-destructive behavior. She was certain something bad would happen to Stephanie if she continued roaming the streets at night, or hooking up with random strangers, and was worried it would destroy her relationship with Ben, who Gena felt brought what Stephanie needed in her life—stability.
She’d been surprised when Stephanie had ended up at a bar. She’d ducked in the door, watching as Stephanie sat in a dark corner booth, ordered a drink, and stayed there until closing time. She hadn’t approached anyone. She hadn’t spoken to anyone. She’d just sat and stared into space, lost in her own thoughts.
Gena hadn’t been able to get the look on Stephanie’s face out of her mind. Her mask of control had been missing, and for the first time, Gena had seen the real her; someone in complete agony. She’d looked so tortured.
Once again, she wondered about the nightmares that kept Stephanie awake at night; the nightmares Stephanie refused to discuss with anyone.
“I trust him completely,” Stephanie said softly, breaking through her thoughts. “I can’t explain it, Gena, but I know I can talk to him about anything and everything, and he won’t judge me. It’s been a long time since I felt that way about anyone.”
“Have you ever felt like that about anyone?” Gena asked bluntly.
“No,” Stephanie admitted softly. “I haven’t, and it scares me a little. There’s something about him. I can’t explain it, but he makes me feel normal.”
“You are normal,” Gena said, reaching out and grabbing her friend’s hand, squeezing tightly. “You’re just dealing with some issues. They’ll go away eventually.”
“No, they won’t,” Stephanie said bitterly, squeezing her friend’s hand back. “They’ll always be with me, just like the demons in my head and the ghosts chasing at my heels. It’s my life. I’ve accepted it.”
“You know anything you need to talk to me about . . . anything at all, Stephanie, “You know you can, right?”
“I know,” Stephanie said softly, giving her a half smile. Gripping Gena’s hand tighter, she added with a choked laugh, “Thank you for being here, Gena, when I needed you. I know I don’t say it enough, but I treasure your friendship. You, Lyn, and Angel are my family. The fact you accept me, screwed up and all, means everything to me.”
“God, you’re not going to turn into a soppy girl on me, are you?” Gena joked, grinning at her. Changing the topic, she said, “I think it’s great that you’ve found a friend in Dominic, and if it leads to more, so be it. You know I’ll support you, no matter what.”
“Gena, I’m with Ben. I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon. I know people think I can’t do friendship with guys, but Dom’s different. He makes me laugh, and I enjoy being around him. I can be myself. I’m not going to screw it up by sleeping with him.”
Gena shook her head, hiding a smile. She didn’t know who Dominic Delaney was, but he’d obviously made a strong impression on Stephanie. She’d seen her friend hunt guys down like they were prey. She’d watched her use them and abuse them, but she’d never seen her friend blush when talking about one. Her friend liked this Dominic, and it was as something more than just a friend; she just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself out loud yet. Or, she thought with a grin, she was determined not to like him as more than a friend. Either way, her friend was going to fall hard. Her grin widened. She couldn’t wait to see it happen.
DOMINIC GRUNTED AS he slammed his fist into the boxing bag, then twisted his waist and delivering a roundhouse kick. He repeated the process a few times before pausing to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his arm. Tyler Carlisle groaned, staggering backwards slightly at the impact, tightening his grip on the boxing bag.
“Here, use this,” he said, stepping away from the bag and grabbing the two towels over the gym’s boxing rings ropes. He threw one at Dominic, who caught it.
“Thanks,” Dominic growled, wiping the sweat off his face before tossing the gym towel back towards the boxing ring. He grinned when Tyler threw him a bottle of water. Catching it, he twisted the lid open and lifted it to salute him. Drinking thirstily, he closed his eyes.
“So, who is she?” Tyler asked, interrupting his thoughts.
He wasn’t surprised by Tyler’s question. He’d known Tyler Carlisle since he was five years old. They were best friends. When he’d moved to LA six years ago, Tyler had been one of the few people to support his decision to chase his dreams. Two months later, he’d shown up on his doorstep.
If anyone knew Dominic it was Tyler, and from the smirk growing on his best friend’s face, he hadn’t concealed his emotions very well. Opening his eyes, he drawled, “Now, what makes you think it’s a girl?”
“Dom, it’s always a girl,” Tyler said with a chuckle, lifting his own bottle to his lips. Pausing midway, he narrowed his eyes speculatively. “I’m going to take a wild guess that it’s not Sandra who has you this worked up.”
“Christ, no,” Dominic bit out, a string of curses flying from his lips. “She gets me worked up for all the wrong reasons. She’s pushing to move into the loft with me, can you believe it?”
“Well, you are a catch. You’ve got money, good looks and your loft is prime real estate. She’s also crazy for you,” Tyler said, chuckling at Dominic’s expression of disgust. “Crazy, being the right word for Sandra Barton. The woman is nuts.”
“She’s a tad possessive,” he admitted.
Tyler burst out with laughter, slapping his knee at the admission. Ignoring Dominic’s glare, he said, “Only a tad possessive? Dominic, the woman makes my ex-girlfriend, Michelle, look like an angel, and she was certifiably insane.” His laughter dying, he added carefully, “I wouldn’t want to be you when Sandra finds out you’re thinking about another woman.”
“I’m not,” he began, shaking his head and taking a deep breath when Tyler pressed softly, “Who is she, Dom?”
Dominic moved to the boxing ring, sitting down on the steps. Tyler did the same, surprised to see his best friend so tied up in knots over a woman. Dominic didn’t do commitment. He was surprised Sandra Barton had lasted the three months she had. The only reason she had, he surmised, was because Dominic had spent most of their relationship scouting locations for his bar.
Dominic was more of a one-night stand kind of guy, with the occasional relationship or two. Tyler didn’t think he’d known Dominic to have a girlfriend for longer than six months. Whoever this woman was, she had his friend wound up tightly.
“Her name’s Stephanie,” Dominic began, shaking his head again and gripping the boxing ring’s stairway railing. “She’s different.”
“You mean she’s not blonde, buxom and dumb?” Tyler teased, arching an eyebrow at Dominic’s glare. “Face it, Dom, you have a type. I’m guessing she doesn’t fit it.”
“God, no,” he groaned, frustrations eating him up inside. “She’s definitely not my usual type. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful, and her body . . . God, I could lose myself in it. She’s got legs that don’t quit, and don’t get me started on the rest of her.”
Tyler whistled softly. “And you want to nail her?”
Dominic scowled furiously. “No,” he spat out. Groaning softly, he dropped his head into his hands. “Yes . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Not only does she have a boyfriend, but she friend-zoned me last night.”
“Damn,” Tyler said, turning to face Dominic. “You really like this girl a lot.”
“Yeah, Ty, I do,” he confessed, lifting his head and curling one of his hands into a fist. Slamming it in frus
tration against his leg, he said, “I can’t explain why I like her. I just know I do. She’s feisty, independent and downright dangerous. I walked out of Outlaws last night, and she was pointing a gun at one of the college jock regulars. I’m pretty certain if he’d pushed her, she would have shot him, right then and there.”
“Well, you do like them crazy. Sandra’s an example of that,” Tyler joked. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together. Subconsciously, Dominic copied his movement.
“That’s the thing, Ty. She’s not crazy,” he said softly, staring down at the gym’s worn-out, scratched floorboards. “She’s anything but. She’s . . .” He paused, searching for the right word. “She’s damaged. Every night she comes into the bar, sits in the darkest corner and orders one drink that she never drinks. She keeps to herself.”
“Obviously not last night,” Tyler said dryly, amusement lacing his voice.
“Last night, I approached her,” Dominic said, grinning in remembrance. “I managed to piss her off by telling her every guy in the bar wanted to make love to her, including me.”
“Was this before or after she friend-zoned you?”
“Before,” Dominic said, chuckling softly. He could still visualize the flare of interest in Stephanie’s eyes before she carefully hid it. She’d wanted him then, and he was fairly certain she still did. “We stayed out all night talking, Ty. For seven hours, we did nothing but talk to each other.”
Tyler’s expression switched from one of amusement to disbelief. He twisted around to stare at Dominic again. “Wait, you talked to her?”
Dominic chuckled at the surprise in Tyler’s voice. His friend knew he wasn’t the type to stick around after sex. Hell, he’d been dating Sandra for three months, and it usually consisted of them hooking up for plenty of sex and very little conversation. He didn’t do deep and meaningful; not with any woman. Not until last night with Stephanie Carovella.
His chuckle died, and his expression turned solemn. Last night, they’d talked about anything and everything. The conversation had gone from light-hearted discussions about their favorite foods to deeper discussions about themselves. He smiled wistfully. He’d told Stephanie things about himself that he hadn’t ever shared with anyone, not even his two best friends. He knew he’d shared more with her than she had with him—he’d seen the caution in her eyes—yet he was certain she’d shared more with him than she’d ever shared with anyone. It had lit a spark of hope inside of him.
Damaged Page 3
