by Iris Morland
He couldn’t think of an instance, and for some reason, having that experience now with Thea scared him more than everything else that had happened between them so far.
“You’re scruffy in the morning,” said Thea as she touched his cheeks and jaw. “Have you ever grown a beard?”
“Once, a few years ago. But it was more upkeep than just shaving every morning.”
“Hmm, I guess that makes sense.”
Her fingers kept stroking his face, like he was a cat. He had to restrain himself from purring under her touch.
“I have to get my hair cut every four weeks,” she added. She touched his hair, brushing it from his forehead.
“Have you always had short hair?” he asked.
“Just for the last few years. Believe it or not, it used to be so long that it was right above my butt.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to see that.”
Thea smiled. “It was a pain to keep up with. I only grew it that long because I was lazy about getting it cut.”
He imagined her with hair as long as Rapunzel, and inevitably his thoughts led to all of that hair coming undone from a braid before he took her to bed. It was an oddly intimate thought that once again sent a bite of fear dancing along his spine.
“Tell me something else about yourself,” she said suddenly. She rolled out from under him. When he reached for her again, she slapped his hands away. “No sex. Just talking.”
Anthony groaned. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“No, no, come on.” She climbed onto his side like an obnoxious kitten, although she was much bigger and warmer and curvier. Her breasts pressing into his side didn’t exactly help him to stop thinking about sex.
He turned back over to face her. “I’ll set my watch for twenty minutes,” he said, “and then you can either get out of this bed, or more sex. Got it?”
Her lips twitched. “Is this a boardroom deal or something?”
“Yes. So, you agree?”
“What if I say no?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Then we can add twenty more minutes to having sex.”
Thea sputtered with laughter, kissing him quickly before sitting up. “Fine. Twenty minutes. Now, tell me something about yourself no one else knows.”
“I hate radishes.”
She hit him with a pillow. “Something interesting!”
Anthony thought, trying to come up with something that wasn’t too intimate but that wasn’t flippant, either. He wasn’t exactly in the business of sharing things about himself. He made a point not to share anything that would render him vulnerable. Why should he? Making yourself vulnerable just meant people could use it against you.
“Okay, here’s something. I didn’t learn how to ride a bike until college.”
“Really? How come?”
“We lived in the country, and it wasn’t really a great place to bike. And I think my parents just didn’t even think about it.”
“I’m sad I couldn’t see you as an eighteen-year-old trying to ride a bike.”
He smiled grimly. “It wasn’t pretty. I almost broke my wrist, but like they say, once you learn, you never forget how to do it.” He tapped her knee when she was silent. “Your turn.”
“I’m thinking. Oh, I know. I had a robin for a month as a kid.”
“Only a month?”
“Yeah, I smuggled it in and hid it in my room from my parents. We weren’t allowed to have pets. I can’t believe I kept it secret for that long, now that I think about it. I found it outside after a cat almost killed it.” She got up from the bed to rummage around in a drawer before pulling out a small photo album. She flipped to a page. “Here, see? Mr. Crackles.”
Anthony looked at the photo of Thea and her red-breasted robin, mostly focused on how young Thea looked in the photo. She couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, and her hair looked like someone had taken gardening shears to it. Her freckles were darker than the ones she had now, and her arms were red from too much sun. But she was smiling so widely that her eyes were almost closed.
“What happened to the bird?” he asked.
Thea’s face fell as she closed the photo album. “When my dad found out, he took it out back and broke its neck.”
He gaped at her. “Are you serious?”
“It was a quick death, at least. He knew we couldn’t care for it, and it couldn’t fly anymore. It wouldn’t have had a good life.”
Anthony stared at her, stunned that any parent could be so cruel. And that Thea could almost forgive such an offense. If Anthony’s father had done that to a pet of his, he would’ve never forgiven his old man.
His parents had been distant and focused on working, but they’d never been cruel. After his dad had died, he and his mother had entered into a kind of formal relationship that involved a phone call on major holidays, a birthday card every year, and occasionally actual meetings in person that were inevitably awkward. But never painful—not like what Thea described.
Thea had set the photo album on the bed. Picking it up, Anthony flipped through the pages. When he got to the end, he noticed a name scrawled on the back of the last photo: Hortense Younger, August 1995.
“Who’s Hortense?” he asked. “One of your siblings?”
At that, Thea snagged the album from his grasp, saying, “Nobody.”
“Then why do you have a photo of her? Is she a cousin? Who would name their child Hortense?”
Thea’s mouth twisted. “My mother would. My first name is actually Hortense: Hortense Anthea Younger.”
Anthony tried to stifle laughter, but it came out as a cough. He started coughing, then laughing, and then laughing harder at Thea’s expression.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, “it’s just—that’s such a terrible name. Why would she do that to you?”
“My mom had a flair for naming her children the worst names imaginable. All five of us have bizarre names.” Thea sighed. “I went by Hortense when I was younger, but I started going by Anthea as soon as I could convince people to call me that. Hortense isn’t exactly a great name when you’re introducing yourself to your classmates. Then a friend nicknamed me Thea and it stuck.”
Seeing the sadness in her expression, he realized that there was more to this than bizarre names. Her mother had committed suicide, hadn’t she? And her father had been abusive. Thea hadn’t had an easy childhood, and here he was, laughing at her.
He’d always thought his heart was made of stone. Except right now, that same stone heart was crumbling and feeling more than it had in a long time.
“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying as he wrapped an arm around her, “I shouldn’t have laughed like that.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you just say the words ‘I’m sorry’?”
“Yes, but don’t expect it to happen again anytime soon.”
“I’m not that hopeful.”
She grinned, and he knew that all had been forgiven. She kissed him, and the softness of her lips combined with the lemony sweet scent of her skin made him forget everything. He didn’t care about parents or pasts or names—the only thing that mattered was having Thea in his arms.
But to his annoyance, she ended the kiss to say, “Your turn.”
“For what?”
“Another secret.”
Anthony groaned. “Aren’t we done with that yet?”
“Nope. And since I told you about my super secret name that no one else knows about…”
Then I should give her my pound of flesh in return, he thought wryly. “I can’t think of anything,” he lied.
“Nothing at all? You’re so boring.” Her eyes flashed, and he didn’t trust that look one bit. “Have you ever been in love?” she said.
Not just one pound of flesh. She’ll expect all of my flesh, organs, and blood, too.
Thea waited, wondering if Anthony would even answer her question. His fingers were clenched on the edge of her comforter, the only sign of his agitation.
Perhaps i
t had been unfair to ask him that, given his failed marriage. But the question had popped into her head and needed an answer. Because if he could fall in love once, then maybe…
She pushed that thought aside. Don’t make it worse, Thea.
“I don’t believe in love,” he said finally.
“You got married, though,” she pointed out.
“Marriage doesn’t mean love.”
Thea thought of the photo she’d found in his wallet. She might not be an expert on relationships, but she’d recognized love when she’d seen that photo.
“So you married your ex-wife out of duty? Money? But you already have money. Was it arranged?”
His lip curled. “Leave it, Thea.”
“It’s just a yes-or-no question.”
“Why are you so intent on this?”
“Why won’t you answer the question?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
She huffed. “Why not? Are you afraid of being honest?”
“Thea…” he warned.
“Well, obviously it’s freaking you out, although it shouldn’t. So just say yes or no—”
“It’s none of your damn business!” he burst out.
Climbing from the bed, he muttered under his breath as he grabbed his clothes from the floor. He started getting dressed. Thea’s heart sank into her toes. She’d pushed him too far. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.
“I don’t believe in love. Love only makes you weak,” he said, not looking at her. “I thought I loved Elise. I thought she was the only woman in the world for me, and when she agreed to marry me, it was the best damn moment in my life. But I found out quickly that love is just what people use against you.”
Thea didn’t move. She couldn’t. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
“What do you think?”
She swallowed. “Did Elise…leave you?”
Anthony laughed hollowly. “You really want that pound of flesh, don’t you? Do you really want the gritty, messy details? Fine, here you go. I wish she had left me, but I found her in my bed, fucking my best friend. She cheated on me. She cheated on me for months, right under my nose.”
Anguish and rage lit his features. Thea wished she hadn’t said anything.
He said, “She betrayed me the worst way a woman could. And with my best friend, too. The only reason I didn’t kill him was because she begged me not to.” His lip curled. “Now they’re married. Happily ever after, right?”
Thea struggled to breathe. She hadn’t realized it had been this bad. Her heart aching, she got up and put her arms around Anthony, but he was like a statue. Unmovable and cold.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried,” she said. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
He pushed her away. “It doesn’t matter. I divorced her, and it’s over. I’ve moved on. And I paid them both off to keep it quiet. I wasn’t going to let them both make a fool of me to the entire public.”
Clearly he hadn’t moved on, based on the anger in his eyes. Thea wasn’t dumb enough to say as much.
She cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry. That was wrong of her. You didn’t deserve that.”
His breathing was ragged, and she saw a flare of such pure need in his eyes that her heart flipped over in her chest.
He’d been honest with her. She needed to tell him who she really was. It wasn’t fair to lie to him. But if she admitted what she’d done, he’d never forgive her. He’d never look at her like he did now.
Her indecisiveness meant that Anthony could collect himself. He finally pulled away from her, his expression now shuttered. Like it always was: walls upon walls upon walls protected this man’s heart.
“You can’t tell anyone about what I said,” he said seriously. “I shouldn't have told you in the first place.”
“Of course I won’t tell. I don’t blab people’s deep, dark secrets.” She tried to keep her voice light, but the attempt at levity fell flat.
Anthony just shook his head. “I need to go,” he said quietly. At the door, he added with his back to her, “I shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake. I wasn’t thinking.”
She wanted to run after him. She wanted to tell him that it hadn’t been a mistake to her, and she wished he would stop acting like she was some bad habit he needed to give up. But all she could do was listen as he drove off, taking him away from her again.
18
“Thea, darling, sweet, adorable, ridiculous friend of mine. Unless you tell me what’s wrong, I’m going to torture you until you fess up,” said Mittens.
Thea tried not to smile but failed miserably. “Should I find that comforting?” she joked.
After much persuasion, whining, blackmailing and coaxing, Mittens convinced Thea to come out for drinks that Friday night. They’d gotten coffee a few times since she’d returned from her trip, but she’d avoided him because she didn’t know how to answer his questions about Anthony.
It was hard not to be happy around Mittens. Currently, he had orange hair with red tips, along with purple nails with pink rhinestones glued to the tips. In regard to his hair, he’d claimed he’d done it because he was already “flaming gay” and liked to ruffle the feathers of the local soccer moms at various coffee shops. Fair Haven was progressive, but it was still a small town with small-town values. Mittens also enjoyed trying out different lip colors and had a bigger scarf collection than any person Thea had ever met. He was probably the most colorful person she’d ever met after herself.
But despite his flamboyant persona that seemed to exude nonchalance, Mittens was actually one of the smartest people Thea knew. He could weasel information out of anyone. Clever and witty, he made friends easily and enemies just as easily. When he’d declared that Thea was totally fucking amazeballs, it had been a huge compliment.
Mittens pushed a shot glass toward her. “Drink up. I’m not letting you cry at Friday night drinks. I have my limits.”
Thea drank the shot, gasping a little at the bite of tequila burning her throat. She bit into a lime. Mittens just pushed another shot toward her, which she took without hesitation.
After Anthony had left, Thea hadn’t heard a word from him—not a text, not a phone call. And, yes, she’d given him her phone number this time. Guilt made her want to forget everything she’d ever done. The alcohol certainly helped to blunt her conscience enough so that she could ignore it.
Mittens had invited a handful of their mutual friends, many of whom were also animal activists who’d helped with the social media campaign against Anthony’s company. They talked and laughed with gusto as the drinks continued to pour. Vegan cheese dip and chips were eaten so quickly that the waitress could hardly keep up with refilling their baskets.
Mittens folded his arms and assessed Thea. She barely resisted the urge to squirm under that all-seeing gaze.
“You’re different,” he said shrewdly. “And not just because you were stuck in a cabin with a total comic book villain and forced to kill baby rabbits to survive.”
“No baby rabbits were hurt in our excursion,” joked Thea. She lifted her water glass. “Here’s a toast to Sneaky. I hope he’s sneaking around in some forest now.”
Mittens pushed his glasses up his nose. At the moment, they were purple frames with diamonds in the corners, to match his nails. Mittens didn’t actually need glasses to see, he just enjoyed the aesthetic. Thea wondered when he’d gotten them, because she hadn’t seen this pair before. Or had she been too distracted to notice?
“So what’s up with you?” she asked brightly. If she could get the attention shifted from herself and get Mittens to talk about himself, maybe she could get out of this night unscathed.
Mittens shrugged. “Nothing new. George wants to move in together, but I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because moving is a pain in the ass.”
“You’re such a romantic.”
“That’s why George is the one who gets to buy roses and shit on
Valentine’s Day.” Mittens swirled his glass of merlot with narrowed eyes. “But you don’t really care about George, do you? Or rather, I doubt that’s the reason why you look so depressed and pathetic.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”
“You know, it’s funny.” Mittens took a sip of his drink and sighed a little. “In some bizarre twist of fate, you get stuck in a cabin in the woods with the one man we both hate more than anything else. The one man who doesn’t give two shits about anyone but himself. I mean, that’s an opportunity given to you on a silver platter to make a real difference. And yet…”
Thea tensed.
“And yet, you aren’t acting like it was some great opportunity. You won’t even tell me what happened.” His voice had an edge of hurt to it, which only compounded Thea’s feelings of guilt. Normally she and Mittens told each other just about everything, but in this case, she hadn’t been brave enough to admit her changing feelings toward Anthony.
“There was so much happening, with him and the weather and Sneaky—”
“It’s been two weeks, Thea.”
She winced. When the waitress set another tray of shots on the table, Thea grabbed one and downed a third glass. At this point, it barely burned.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She was halfway tempted to tell Mittens everything. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? He’d fallen for more than one guy he knew wasn’t good for him. He knew what it was to love and not have it be reciprocated. She was happy that he’d found love with George, though, who from all appearances seemed like a stand-up, caring man who adored Mittens, ridiculous hair and all.
Thea’s breath stopped at the thought of love. She didn’t love Anthony—she couldn’t. She was just attracted to him. The sex was so good that it had muddled her brain. Struggling to find her composure when her brain was soaked in alcohol and filled with confusion, she’d almost forgotten that Mittens was staring at her, watching her every expression.
“I can take a wild guess what happened,” he said. “You got to know him, or whatever personality he decides to put on for peasants like you. And he was so handsome and dashing that you practically threw yourself into his arms.” He threw his arms out dramatically.
