by Lia Lee
Gerard’s eyes darted over her face, and he drew in a deep breath. “What?”
“I fucking… need… some sleep!”
Gerard exhaled hotly, as if he’d been expecting some meaningful, profound, emotional request.
“First off, I didn’t plan this party. It was very last-minute.”
She laughed out loud, but it was an empty sound. “I don’t care! You think I give a fuck? I know it’s your house and you can do as you wish, but did you have to throw the party of the year right now? When you have a three-year-old in the house who can’t go to sleep because he says the house is too noisy?”
Gerard pushed his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think of that.”
She scoffed. “Of course you didn’t. You’ve always been too selfish and too self-centered—”
“Woah, whoa…” He lifted his hands to stop her rant. “What are we talking about again? Because I have a feeling this is not about the party.”
“It is. It’s just another way of you exhibiting how immature you are. Look at that fucking slip and slide out there. It’s the biggest I’ve seen in my life, and this party is worse than the one Damien threw for you. It’s disgusting, the kind of people you hang out with.”
“Stop with the meaningless insults. You’re smarter than that.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. “This is all about me and Trent, isn’t it? You’re trying to show me how irresponsible you are so that I don’t get any ideas about having a life with you.”
“What?” He was incredulous.
She ignored his expression. “Don’t worry, Gerard. I don’t want to stay with you. This is just a job to me, and you know why I took it? Because I wanted to spend time with my son. Because I work too much and I miss out on all his milestones. Your parents get to enjoy them all because they’re the most amazing people I’ve ever known. How did you end up so uncaring and cold?”
“Hold up. You want me to care that Trent is here and you’re here, or you don’t? Decide before you argue, because right now, you’re contradicting yourself terribly and nothing you say makes any sense.”
Hartford knew she was simply rambling in her fury, but she’d had it. “If you’d like us to leave, please inform the hospital and I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
“What?” he cried when she turned away. “That’s it? That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it? Just fucking disappear every time things don’t go your way.”
She whirled around. “Are you insinuating I’ve done that before?”
“Yes,” he hissed, not backing down. “Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how you can even think that you haven’t done this before. Because as far as I remember—” He yelled as the music grew wilder and somewhat louder. “—I called you the second I landed here, and I called you for the next three months, but you’d simply ghosted me. It was as if you never even existed.”
“I didn’t want to see you.”
“Okay. And after that statement as an answer to what I just said, you’ll still argue that I’m the immature one?” He grated his teeth and yanked the door open. Louder music spilled in momentarily. “Someone turn the volume down! Right now!” he yelled and slammed the door shut.
Hartford spotted several of the buffoons looking worried. It was clear that the two of them were arguing, and it was no secret that she didn’t like the men who came to cash in on Gerard’s money and fame. They looked away guiltily when she stared back at them.
“You know what? Yes, I would still say that, because I’m not the only one who was expected to be responsible and answerable in that relationship. When you stopped being answerable, so did I. And since we’re on the topic of immaturity, let me mention that I can very well see why you’re letting these idiots come in and fill your day, when you could be doing something better…” Like getting to know your son. But she hated that thought. She didn’t want to want that. It hurt like hell knowing that Gerard didn’t care about her child.
“What is your problem with them?”
“My problem with them is that they’re props designed to keep you occupied so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you have your ex-girlfriend and your son in the house with you!”
The words hung in the air. Your son. It felt strange. Obviously, he hadn’t heard those words before. He twisted his neck as stress seized it up along the back, and he simply stood panting, exhausted from the argument.
She was as shocked as he was. She clutched both sides of her sweatpants and dropped her gaze to a spot near his feet. Slowly, Gerard turned toward the window, and so did she. Several of his guests were looking straight toward the arguing couple.
Belatedly realizing they were putting on a show, he turned back to Hartford. “Do you think we should talk about what happened so you can get some of the anger out?”
She clenched her eyes shut, knowing he was right. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of atoning to her. She’d struggled and fought these last three years while raising Trent. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever done.
“I’m not angry at you for the past,” she said slowly, her temper fizzled out and dry after referring to Trent as Gerard’s son. She felt like she’d betrayed her own self. “It’s about what you’re doing right now.”
He walked toward her and when she stepped back automatically, he lifted his hands. “I’m just trying to get out of sight of the guests.”
Hartford stepped back toward the four steps that led toward the staircase. “I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.” There was no point putting herself in a situation where she was alone with Gerard. “Just try to keep the party down.”
“Just talk to me.” Gerard sounded desperate.
“I can’t.”
“Hart…”
Hartford stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched, tears blurring her sight. Hart. No one ever called her that, and she hadn’t heard that since he’d accidently let it slip when she arrived at his house. She shook her head vehemently to deny the warmth that was telling her to bawl and fix things and let herself want him without all the reservations.
“Just go back to your stupid party. I have to get back to Trent. He’s still awake.”
***
Gerard stood watching her round hips swaying gorgeously as she walked away and turned the corner. He was confused and claustrophobic, trapped among the walls of his house that seemed too close and too restricting. He couldn’t escape. Nothing he did was good enough. If he didn’t want to talk, he was avoiding her. If he wanted to talk, she didn’t want to give him the chance. He felt like a noose was wrapped around his throat, and it grew tighter every moment.
He needed to talk, and he needed to know what had happened to make her dump him like a hot potato. He needed to know why she’d given up on him when he’d loved her so damn much.
He strode back out to the pool and dove into the pool. Resurfacing, he grabbed a cocktail from the bar the caterers had set up near the edge and let it burn down his throat. “Give me something stronger.” He had several shots before leaving the pool.
One of the girls who’d been vying for his attention—though he had no idea who she was or who had brought her along—wrapped her arm around his waist. He smiled at her and held her tightly, letting her guide him to her group of friends. He needed to stop thinking of the stunning African American woman who’d been stuck inside his head for years, who was at that instant sleeping with his son. His son.
He threw himself into the party. There had to be an escape from this pain and agony. There had to be.
Chapter Six
Trent was asleep by the time Hartford went back up the room. It was still loud and rowdy, but the music wasn’t as blaring as it had been. She watched from the first-floor terrace that curved out of the west wing of the house. The gigantic slip and slide was swarming with people.
Gerard was easy to spot. The man just did not blend in. Several inches taller than the others, his hair thick an
d blond and his shoulders too wide, every step he took spoke of a lifetime spent in privilege and comfort.
The authority and power stamped onto every fiber of his body was slightly intimidating now, when she barely knew him. What motivated him now? What were his goals now?
She’d known a different version of the man, and now, even the way he made love would’ve changed owing to years of experience, of course.
Cold, reptilian slime swirled in her heart. She almost choked on the jealousy, as a thin redhead curled closer to Gerard’s body and lifted her mouth for a kiss.
She gasped and turned away, clutching her chest. It happened. It must have happened hundreds of times. He was a Seahawks player; girls must have thrown themselves at him plenty. Why was she jealous? Gerard wasn’t hers. He was nothing to her.
Then why did she feel like wrenching that woman’s hands off her man and yelling at Gerard for allowing her to touch his body?
Resting her back against a pillar, she turned her back to the party. It was dark on the terrace, and she stared into the distance, at the life he had made for himself.
Detached. Immature. The ultimate bachelor life. No responsibilities tying him down, such as a longtime girlfriend or a child. A child support check sent early every month was the extent of the responsibly he wanted to take.
Obviously, she couldn’t cite her own maturity if she was still attracted to him after all that he had become. She regretted yelling at him downstairs. He shouldn’t have been capable of eliciting such a passionate angry reaction from her. She should’ve just let him be.
She was shivering all over, wanting to blot out of image of the redhead leaning up for a kiss. Gerard’s lips. She clenched her eyes shut. They had always slid over hers so territorially, his teeth biting, his tongue plunging out to meet hers. He swallowed every cry she made, every gasp, every moan, his hands holding her nape, and she relished being imprisoned in his grasp while he kissed her like his life and death depended on tasting her enough.
She’d spent many years waking up gasping for a taste of that mouth. No man had ever compared. No one could. The man marked a milestone in her life. He was support and adoration and passion. She’d given him her virginity, but actually, he’d taken way more. He had marked her for eternity, branded her with who he was, and she was terrified that she would end up alone. No one was ever going to be good enough.
Something moved in the shadows and she jumped. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
She sighed, clutching her chest. “You scared me.”
He neared and the mellow light from the party outside on the lawn hit his features. He was not only barefoot, but also shirtless. Her heart hammered in panic. The only thing on his body was a pair of drenched swimming trunks. “What are you doing up here?”
“Nothing. Just enjoying the weather,” she lied.
“It’s insanely hot.” He tried to look closer at her face, which was shrouded in darkness.
She crossed her arms over her chest as a defense mechanism to protect herself from the inflammable virility of the man. “What do you want, Trent?”
Trent drew in a deep breath. “What was that all about? Downstairs.”
She averted her eyes. “It came out wrong. I don’t really see Trent as your son.”
“You don’t see him as my son?” The words felt weird. “Right. Even though he’s somehow an exact replica of me even though his mom’s African American.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, even then. And it’s not about how he looks. On second thought, we don’t have to have this conversation, do we?”
“Yes, we do,” he said in a hiss when she shifted to walk away. “Stop fucking walking away from me all the time. Stop leaving me behind. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
She whirled around. “I left you behind?” she cried incredulously.
He scoffed. “Last I remember, I was begging people to somehow get you to call me back.”
She swallowed in defeat “Do you really want to talk about this?”
“Yes. It’s high time we do, don’t you think?” he snapped back in exasperation.
“I don’t know!” she screamed in answer, her chest rising and falling in anger. “What do you want me to say? Tell me and I’ll say it to soothe your wounded ego.”
He strode forward and gripped her elbows, pinning her close to him. Her breasts brushed his bare chest. “Why did you agree to coming here?”
She tilted her head back, refusing to back down. “I needed to spend time with my son, and this was a chance to have the summer with him.”
“Why didn’t you take my calls after I left for Seattle?” he said, his tone softer, his eyes warmer.
She coiled away from the hurt in those blue eyes. “I didn’t want to.”
“Why?” he cried. “Why couldn’t you just tell me? When I was leaving… at the airport. When I said I loved you, Hart… why didn’t you say you didn’t love me anymore?”
“Because I did love you,” she wailed, her eyes burning with tears. “But you’d already destroyed everything.”
Her voice broke, and he sighed, releasing her elbows and lifting his hands to her nape. He pushed his hands through her hair and jerked her face up. “Come on, Hart. Tell me what I did that was so terrible that you broke me.”
“Stop it!” She pushed at his chest. “I can’t believe you’re insinuating that it was my fault in any way. I did nothing. It was all you!” She whispered furiously, tears sliding down her face. “You were supposed to be there for me, and you weren’t. And I hated you for it.”
He paused, releasing her neck and stepping back. He reared back, visibly struggling to suck in air. “I remember you telling me you were pregnant…” he began slowly, and Hartford’s head snapped up at his tender tone. “I remember trying to be supportive but then losing my shit because I got hit with the details and obligations I had going to pros.”
Hartford gasped and their eyes held. She hadn’t known she wanted answers, but she did. She was hanging on to every word, every bit of it an ointment to the gashes and aches that she’d walked around with for years.
“I remember my first instinct was to take you with me, Hart. I wasn’t worried about supporting the both of us…” His features tensed when her face scrunched up to fight the tears threatening to erupt. “But you had your residency, and I knew you’d never sacrifice it. And I had to go too. So I said what I thought was supportive, and I wanted to be around, but you cut me out of your life… so easily—”
“Don’t.” She broke down, tears streaming down her face. She’d never given him the benefit of the doubt. Because in her mind, there was no doubt about the fact that he had let her down when she most wanted his love. Every time she’d thought about him, she remembered him as the man who was centered on his own desires and goals. But it wasn’t just his goals on the line. Would she have sacrificed her residency to stay with him? She wouldn’t have. She had way too many plans, just like he had.
“Hart…” His fists tightened by his sides as he watched her cry. “I couldn’t think of a solution on the spot. It was so unexpected, and then my mind just snapped. And I thought the only choice was to have an abortion. I never even thought for an instant that you would consider having the baby.”
She sobbed harder and didn’t have the will to fight him, when she felt herself being hauled into his wide chest. She let the mistrust and anger fizzle out for a moment and sobbed hard, her shoulders jerking with the intensity of the sobs.
“I didn’t even know he existed up until my parents came to visit six months ago. I tried to see you then. To see him. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to see you, ask you why you didn’t tell me. But you didn’t want anything to do with me, so I… sent the check.” He forced her crying face up to his. “Was it enough, the child support?”
She shook her head, fighting her sobs. “I never used it.”
He smiled, then slid his thumbs across her cheeks. “Of cou
rse you didn’t. I had a feeling you wouldn’t touch it.”
When she looked up, his smile faded. His eyes dropped to her lips, and she knew why. Her mouth was so close to his. His breath smelled so familiar, and his scent was swirling around her. Her hands were pressed onto his spine, her breasts crushed against his chest.
Her heart hammered wildly, and she wondered if he could tell she was nervous, and turned on, and secretly, reluctantly, waiting for him to kiss her.
They were alone in the house. Trent was in bed. The only sound was the pounding beat of the music as it made the walls shake. He pushed her hair off her face, and she let him. It was right. It felt right. She couldn’t pull away.
Just when she thought he’d kiss her, his soft voice caressed her face.
“Why didn’t you get an abortion, Hartford?”
She pursed her lips and was glad that he hadn’t kissed her. Because she wouldn’t have pulled away. This man had single-handedly destroyed her for every other man. He’d changed how she viewed the world, and what she liked, and what she wanted. “I couldn’t do it because…”
“Because what?”
She looked him straight in the eye, but her sight got blurry as the tears erupted again. “Because it was a part of you.”
His expression changed, his jaw hardening, while his eyes softened at the same time. She drew in a sharp breath as he swiftly moved and crushed her parted lips with his.
***
Emotion hit him in the base of this throat. He kissed her harder to fight the agony swirling inside of him. He needed an outlet for the regret and the love swirling through him like madness.
Her groan resounded through his ears. Familiar. Her nails clawed at his back. Familiar. Her breasts crushed onto his chest, and she shifted her lower body closer to his. So damn familiar. Nostalgia gripped him; the way she felt in his arms, the way she tasted against his lips, he remembered it all like it was yesterday. Hungrily he drove his mouth along the contours of her mouth and drew in a shaky breath when she offered him her tongue.
