Whereas, I wanted to do this and knew we needed to stop. I was already in trouble when it came to this man holding my heart hostage… moments like this threw gas on the fire.
It literally took every fiber of my being to pull my face away from his. When he chased my mouth, it almost killed my resolve. Thank God, reason prevailed. With his gaze searching mine, he nodded and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t just on you, Trey.” Neither was the last kiss. I fully participated in both instances, and I hypocritically wanted more. “They’re just lustful moments messing with our libidos.”
“Camilla.” Gone was the heat his eyes held a few seconds ago, replaced with intense regret that altered his expression. “I know.”
“Good. Then let’s just forget—”
“I know what you’re feeling,” he cut me off.
“Feeling…” I left the word to dangle, not comprehending his point.
He gripped the back of his neck and looked away. When he came back to catch my expectant gaze, remorse flashed like a beacon across his face. “I know you have feelings for me.”
His admission hit me like an arctic blast, freezing me in a state of shock. “What?”
“I heard you… on the phone with Debbie… at the beach house. I heard you admit you developed feelings for me. I heard you say you think I have an agenda.”
“Why?” The word escaped as a croak. It felt like he’d reached over and squeezed a hand around my throat. “Why were you listening to my call?”
“It wasn’t intentional,” he said. “I was about to check on you… and then heard you.” His stepping closer forced an automatic step back. “Camilla, I don’t know how to process that.”
Something in his pitying tone sparked a renewed anger. “There’s nothing to process. It’s my issue, and I have no intention to stoke that unfortunate realization.”
“Which realization? The one where you don’t trust me?” he asked quietly, before adding, “Or the one where you’re falling for me?” There wasn’t any cockiness in his questions, yet my cheeks flamed as if I were standing before him naked, exposed, and vulnerable—which in a way I was.
Needing out of there, I snapped up my purse and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Tell Jack and Leila I don’t feel well. You can drive Alivia back tomorrow morning. I won’t ruin her fun.” With that, I rushed out like a coward before he could stop me.
Trey
Fuck me.
I stood staring at the door like an idiot while a twinge of gratitude swelled because she’d left. By doing so, she’d slammed a door on the tsunami brewing between us… one that could destroy us both.
The problem—how long could we keep that door shut?
Eventually we had to deal with one another. This situation between us wasn’t going away, and I had no confidence either of us knew how to handle it.
For fuck’s sake, I knew that I obviously couldn’t. Even as I argued with myself that getting involved with Camilla couldn’t happen, I’d gone ahead and kissed her not once but twice.
At the moment, the desire to crack open a beer was fierce, but succumbing to one harmless beer meant the harder anesthetics I’d used in my past were just a step away. So instead I grabbed my hat and shades and headed to the Lairs.
With my head bent, I power walked my way over. I slid out of the elevator less than ten minutes later, and Jack greeted me in the foyer. “Where’s Camilla?”
“She just left, and I needed out of my apartment.” The way I said that, and the look on my face, clued him in that I was deflecting temptation.
“You were right to come over.”
“Where are the kids?”
“Watching a movie. We can talk in the kitchen.”
Leila was busy at the island, assembling some sort of snack boxes. At our approach, she looked up and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Where do I start?” I sat heavily on one of the barstools, feeling exposed. This wasn’t the first time I’d gone to my friends for advice. It had happened occasionally after I’d come back home to focus on my recovery. Mostly, I’d open up when I felt a meltdown coming on a day I didn’t have access to therapy.
Regardless, opening up wasn’t something I’d ever mastered. It went against my nature. My entire life I’d internalized my problems, hiding them from everyone, pretending I didn’t have a care in the world.
One thing happened when you popped a cork that contained all your feelings and emotions for years and years… there was no putting them back in that bottle once they were released.
So instead I admitted defeat and got through catastrophes that threatened my recovery by seeking help wherever I could find it.
Like now.
Leila stopped her task and leaned on her elbows, giving me her undivided attention. Jack took the seat beside me, essentially doing the same.
I already knew that Leila knew of our kiss on the beach, and of my hearing Camilla’s phone conversation. A few days ago, Jack slipped that he’d told her. I couldn’t be angry, as these two shared everything.
So, not bothering with any pretenses, I came right out and said, “I kissed her again.” Predictably, it wasn’t concern that I saw in Leila’s expression but more along the lines of elation. “Don’t. Despite what you think, this isn’t a good idea, Lei.”
“What isn’t?” She feigned ignorance, to which I rolled my eyes.
“Getting involved with Camilla.” To that, she didn’t respond and instead bit down on her lip. “What? Spill it. I know you want to.”
“And you want me to be completely honest?”
“No, please lie to me,” I said on another eye roll.
Jack instantly piped in, “Watch it,” to which I groaned.
Leila gave her husband an adoring smile before explaining, “You know that I meant sugarcoating it… which I sometimes have to do for you,” she reminded with a pointed expression.
“No sugarcoating. Let it out.”
“Okay… but you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
On a sigh, I glanced at Jack, who tried to pretend ignorance, but the jackass couldn’t fool me. “Just say it.”
“You need to stop fighting the good things that come to you. Of all people, you know how quickly life can turn. I’d rather have had five minutes of happiness with the people I love than years of playing it safe by being alone.”
She carefully watched a myriad of emotions cross over my features—from resentment that she’d called me out, to anger because she knew I had a legit reason to push people away, to defeat when I realized she was right.
Looking back a few months, I knew my life sucked in comparison to now. Sure, it had to do with the little girl I’d completely fallen in love with. But even having Camilla in my life improved it on some level. Besides the obvious way she roused a libido that had been dormant for a while, I liked teasing her, and I liked seeing that feisty side when I irritated her. Okay, I’d go as far as admitting that I liked her, a lot.
In spite of all that, I pressed my lips together and remained silent.
Undeterred, Leila shook her head and continued. “Stop wasting time, Trey. Yeah, you’ve been dealt one crappy hand after another. But then again, combined, they all got you to where you are now. Jack knows how much I struggled to get past what Danny tried to do to me, but without that trauma, I wouldn’t be where I am now.” She reached for Jack’s hand and smiled. “Just be happy… please stop living with regrets.”
“I don’t know how to do that. My life has been one fucking regret.” Except for Alivia, my subconscious argued. Harsh but true.
“Don’t say that.” Leila impatiently shook her head. “I’ll teach you.”
Chapter 25
Camilla
A solid hard knock on my door prompted me to rush down the stairs. When I opened it, Debbie held up a bottle of wine in one hand and a bakery box in the other. “We’re self-medicating.”
&n
bsp; “Great idea.” This woman was my rock, the sister I didn’t have. One call with minimal explanation had her dropping everything to come lend an ear.
Snatching the wine from her outstretched hand, I led her up the stairs before getting to work on pouring and plating. A few minutes later, we both sat on my couch with the goods ready to be consumed.
After she took a large gulp of wine, she said, “Okay, start from the beginning.”
Debbie knew I was already irked with Trey for showering Alivia with gifts. But I still filled her in on the lengths he went to by throwing her that party, as well as unveiling her room at his place, including the additions he’d added.
“This isn’t anything new.” She waved a dismissing hand. I hadn’t expected her to side with me, since she’d voiced many times the man had every right to spoil his daughter, but a little sympathy would’ve been nice. “So, what really has you in a tizzy?”
“I’m getting to that part,” I said impatiently. “He kissed me again.”
Debbie smacked her lap with a grin. “Now we’re talking. When, where, how was it?”
“His apartment after we dropped Alivia off for her playdate. It was strange. One minute we were bickering, the next his mouth was on mine. I’m not sure I can trust it. It’s like this fire and ice between us, with no in-between.”
“Perfect ingredients for a thigh-quivering romance.” I rolled my eyes. “Did you panic and run away again… is that why you’re home now?”
“Not at first. I got lost in the kiss. Our first one on the beach was brief and awkward in that we both knew it was a mistake. But this time, during it we seemed to forget that key point.” I didn’t even have to close my eyes to relive the memory of how his soft lips had owned mine. “It went on and on before we finally snapped back to reality.”
“And this reality you speak of is avoiding the fact you are attracted to one another?”
“It’s knowing how complicated things will become if we give in to—” I stopped myself from using the word lust, especially knowing he’d heard my conversation. “Things are different now, and we can’t be so callous.”
“Why are things different?” She reached for her red velvet cupcake and licked the frosting with a bored expression that didn’t fool me. “Don’t blame it on Alivia now knowing he’s her father, because you can’t ignore she’s accepted it beautifully.”
“Still, we have more invested now. It’s more important than ever to get along.”
“You’re dooming a relationship before it even happens. That’s ridiculous, Cam. He’s single, you’re single, and you both have the hots for each other. You need to explore what it can become. Talk to him—maybe admit you have feelings for him.”
“No need… he heard us talking on the phone.” Her forehead crumpled as she searched her thoughts. “The day I called you from the beach. The night that he first kissed me.”
Debbie’s brows again furrowed. “Wait… the only thing we talked about was you fearing he had an agenda, that he would fight you for Alivia, which you moved past, right?”
“Yes. When I brought it up he apologized for lashing out and wouldn’t do that to me. But that wasn’t all you and I talked about. During our conversation, I also admitted to you that I developed feelings for him.”
“You did?” At that, her eyes bulged and her mouth gaped. “That’s right, you did. Good, now the awkward part is over with.”
“Except he doesn’t feel the same.”
“He said that?”
“No.”
“You assume then?”
“No.”
“Okay, then it must be because you saw as much in your crystal ball?” she snapped, shaking her head at the series of slow blinks that I gave her. “It’s out of the bag. Now you can work on what to do about it. And if he keeps kissing you, don’t you think those feelings you carry might be the same for him?”
“No,” I was quick to say yet again. “He acted on impulse… not emotions. It’s very different.”
My cell began vibrating where I had left it on the coffee table, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the call after seeing his name on the screen.
Debbie sighed, picked it up, and accepted the call. “Hello? Oh, hi, Trey. It’s Debbie,” she gushed in a sickly sweet voice. “Yeah, she’s here… you are? No, no… I was just leaving.… I’ll be right down.” She tapped to end the call and wordlessly stood before heading down the steps of my apartment to let him in, without even involving me.
“Nice friend you are,” I called out, to which she flipped me the finger. While my heart pounded, I rushed to the decorative mirror on the wall and cringed at what I looked like. “Shit.”
Pathetically, I removed my ponytail, only to create a messier one. I had no time to fix any other damage, because, without delay, their voices and footsteps grew closer as she resurfaced seconds later with Trey close behind.
There was absolutely nothing different about his appearance: jeans, snug black T-shirt, black boots, baseball hat, and sunglasses that he favored. Yet he still had me feeling like that nervous young woman whom he’d met backstage that fateful night. The one who could barely string two words together.
“Look who stopped by,” Debbie said as he casually removed his hat and glasses. The intensity in the way he stared at me wasn’t stopping my pulse from racing. “Hey.” She playfully poked him in the arm and stole his focus. “You still owe us the pleasure of your company.” When he frowned a bit, she clarified, “Dinner at my house.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He slid his gaze back to me and added, “Camilla and I will be sure to come as soon as possible.” Maybe it was his suggestive tone or the way he included me in his acceptance, but either way, Debbie grinned like a fool, and I broke out in a cold sweat.
She clapped her hands and grinned. “Great! I’m thrilled you’ll both be… coming. But be sure to come soon.”
Good lord.
She snatched her bag off the counter. “Well, I’ll leave you kids alone. Don’t worry about walking me out, Cam. I’ll lock up.”
I didn’t bother waiting to hear the door shut before asking, “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.” His tongue poking out to lick his lips distracted me until he added, “You left like your ass was on fire.”
“If you came all this way to check on me, no need. I’m fine.”
His eyes narrowed on the box full of cupcakes that could feed twelve and the magnum of wine beside it. “Is that so?”
“I am,” I snapped, causing the smirk on his face to morph into a smug smile.
He dropped his hat and glasses on the kitchen table. “Regardless, amuse me.” Without delay, he then strolled toward my couch, sat, and patted the cushion beside him. “Please sit.” When I hesitated, he sighed heavily. “Seriously, Camilla?”
Okay, so maybe I have been acting like my crush in high school found out that I liked him. Feeling silly, I slowly sat a few inches away. “I’m sorry I left abruptly.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kinda glad you did.” I ignored the insecurities bubbling up within me. Instead, I remained silent and waited for him to navigate this “talk” we apparently needed to have. “It gave me a chance to think things through. And I decided you aren’t the only one.”
“I’m not the only one who what?”
“Who developed feelings,” he said with purpose. His eyes searched mine for a pause. “Look, this is a huge breakthrough for me. Normally, knowing how you felt, and how I felt, would send my world spinning off its axis. It would have me detaching emotionally while using sex to fill the void. It would have me running.” If I didn’t know better, I’d believe he was angry because of the flare of his nostrils and the blazing intensity in his stare. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “But… it’s time to end that pattern. So, in a nutshell, I think we’re both idiots who are just looking for excuses.”
“What?” I still couldn’t wrap my brain around what he was trying to sa
y. And still, there was no humor in his expression, which made it all the more jarring.
Shocking me even further, he took my hand in his while rubbing a thumb over my knuckles. “Camilla, I’m sure you’re no stranger to what I’ve been through, but I want to tell you my version.” He alternated looking at our entwined hands and my face as he began to tell me the story of Trestan Barton, aka Trey Taylor.
He started with the way he’d been raised in Utah by a fanatical preacher who played God and the woman who blindly followed his rules. I couldn’t contain my shocked gasp when Trey robotically recounted details of the night his father slit his wrists as he slept, making it look like a suicide to have others believe he was unstable but mostly to scare Trey.
He told me of his first love, Taylor, whose name he’d taken as his own when he fled after she was murdered by that same man. My heart ached for him for so many reasons. The worst my parents ever did to me was abandonment, and in his case it would have been a welcome alternative.
I listened about his days in Los Angeles as an eighteen-year-old kid playing a grown-up on his own, running for his life, and hiding from his family. Trey took me through the years after joining Devil’s Lair—and his determination to avoid falling in love again.
His pathetic attempts had meant nothing when he met Tara. He finally found love again, only for him to come close to losing it. Even more horrifying than what Trey’s father did was what his uncle had. The man kidnapped Tara, beat and raped her, to gain revenge and force Trey to give back the evidence he’d stolen proving the brothers’ illegal activities. That vile man was caught, and Tara was saved. Trey finally felt he could be happy. They had married during a tacky ceremony in Vegas, their tattooed ring fingers serving as their wedding bands.
My chest pinched with sadness for him as he glanced down to her name on said finger before recounting what had happened that fateful day a deer crossed the road while they were on his motorcycle.
Trey Page 17
