Bared to You - Chapter 19

Cary joined us in the living room for excellent
Chinese, a sweet plum wine, and Monday night
television. As we flipped channels and laughed
over the hilarious names of some reality television
shows, I watched as two of the most important
men in my life enjoyed some relaxation time and
each other. They got along well, ribbing and
playfully insulting each other in that way men had.
I’d never seen that side of Gideon before and I
loved it.
While I hogged one whole side of our sectional
sofa, the two guys sat cross-legged on the floor
and used the coffee table as a dining table. Both
were wearing loose sweatpants and fitted Tshirts,
and I appreciated the view. Was I a lucky
girl or what?
Cracking his knuckles, Cary dramatically
prepared to open his fortune cookie. “Let’s see.
Will I be rich? Famous? About to meet Mr. or Ms.
Tall, Dark, and Tasty? Traveling to distant lands?
What’d you guys get?”
“Mine’s lame,” I said. “In the end all things will
be known. Duh. I didn’t need a fortune to figure
that out.”
Gideon opened his and read, “Prosperity will
knock on your door soon.”
I snorted.
Cary shot me a look. “I know, right? You
snatched someone else’s cookie, Cross.”
“He better not be anywhere near someone
else’s cookie,” I said dryly.
Reaching over, Gideon plucked half of mine out
of my fingers. “Don’t worry, angel. Your cookie is
the only one I want.” He popped it in his mouth
with a wink.
“Gag,” Cary muttered. “Get a room.” He
cracked his fortune with a flourish, and then
scowled. “What the fuck?”
I leaned forward. “What’s it say?”
“Confucius say,” Gideon ad-libbed, “man with
hand in pocket feel cocky all day.”
Cary threw half his cookie at Gideon, who
caught it deftly and grinned.
“Give me that.” I snatched the fortune out from
between Cary’s fingers and read it. Then laughed.
“Fuck you, Eva.”
“Well?” Gideon prodded.
“Pick another cookie.”
Gideon smiled. “Pwned by a fortune.”
Cary threw the other half of his cookie.
I was reminded of similar evenings spent with
Cary when I was attending SDSU, which made
me try and picture what Gideon had been like in
college. From the articles I’d read, I knew he’d
attended Columbia for his undergraduate studies,
then left to focus on his expanding business
interests.
Had he associated with the other students? Did
he go to frat parties, screw around and/or drink
too much? He was such a controlled man, I had a
hard time picturing him that carefree, and yet here
he was being exactly that with me and Cary.
He glanced at me then, still smiling, and my
heart turned over in my chest. He looked his age
for once, young and seriously fine and so very
normal. At that moment, we were just a twentysomething
couple relaxing at home with a
roommate and a remote control. He was just my
boyfriend, hanging out. It was all so sweet and
uncomplicated, and I found the illusion a poignant
one.
The intercom buzzed and Cary leaped to his
feet to answer it. He glanced at me with a smile.
“Maybe it’s Trey.”
I held up a hand with my fingers crossed.
But when Cary answered the door a few
minutes later, it was the leggy blonde from the
other night who came in.
“Hey,” she said, taking in the remnants of dinner
on the table. She eyed Gideon appraisingly as he
politely unfolded and stood in that powerfully
graceful way of his. She shot me a smirk; then
unleashed a dazzling supermodel smile on
Gideon and held out her hand. “Tatiana Cherlin.”
He shook her hand. “Eva’s boyfriend.”
My brows lifted at his introduction. Was he
protecting his identity? Or his personal space?
Either way, I liked his response.
Cary came back into the room with a bottle of
wine and two glasses. “Come on,” he said,
gestured down the hallway to his bedroom.
Tatiana gave a little wave and preceded Cary
out. I mouthed behind her back to Cary, What are
you doing?
He winked and whispered, “Picking another
He winked and whispered, “Picking another
cookie.”
Gideon and I called it a night shortly after and
headed to my room. As we got ready for bed, I
asked him something I’d wondered about earlier.
“Did you have a fuck pad in college, too?”
His T-shirt cleared his head. “Excuse me?”
“You know, like the hotel room. You’re a randy
guy. I just wondered if you’d had some kind of
setup even then.”
He was shaking his head as I ogled his divinely
perfect torso and lean hips. “I’ve had as much sex
since I met you as I’ve had in the last two years
combined.”
“No way.”
“I work hard and I work out harder, both of which
keep me pleasantly exhausted most of the time.
Occasionally, I might’ve gotten an offer I didn’t
refuse, but otherwise I could take or leave sex until
I met you.”
“Bullshit.” I found that impossible to believe.
He shot me a look before he headed toward the
bathroom with a black leather toiletry bag. “Keep
doubting me, Eva. See what happens.”
“What?” I followed him, enjoying the sight of his
delectable ass. “You’re going to prove that you
can take or leave sex by doing me again?”
“It takes two.” He opened his bag and pulled out
a new toothbrush that he extricated from its
packaging and dropped into my toothbrush
holder. “You’ve initiated sex between us as much
as I have. You need the connection as much as I
do.”
“You’re right. It’s just…”
“Just what?” He pulled open a drawer, frowned
at finding it full, and moved on to pull open
another.
“Other sink,” I said, smiling at his presumption
that he would get drawers at my place, too, and
his scowl when he couldn’t find them. “They’re all
yours.”
Gideon moved over to the second sink and
began unpacking his bag into the drawers. “Just
what?” he repeated, taking shampoo and body
wash over to my shower.
Leaning my hip into the sink and crossing my
arms, I watched him stake his claim all over my
bathroom. There was no doubt that’s what he was
doing, just as there was no doubt that anyone
walking into the room would know right away there
was a man in my life.
It struck me then that I had a similar claim on his
private space. His household staff had to know
their boss was in a committed relationship now.
The thought gave me a little thrill.
“I was thinking about you in college earlier,” I
went on, “when we were eating dinner, imagining
what it would be like to see you around on
campus. I would’ve been obsessed with you. I
would have gone out of my way to see you around
just to enjoy the view. I would’ve tried to get in the
same classes as you, so I could daydream during
lectures about getting into your pants.”
“Sex maniac.” He kissed the tip of my nose as
he passed me and went to brush his teeth. “We
both know what would’ve happened once I saw
you.”
I brushed my hair and teeth; then washed my
face. “So…did you have a sex pad for the rare
occasions some lucky bitch got you in bed?”
His gaze caught my soapy reflection in the
mirror. “I’ve always used the hotel.”
“That’s the only place you’ve had sex? Before
me?”
“The only place I’ve had consensual sex,” he
said quietly, “before you.”
“Oh.” My heart broke.
I walked over to him, hugging him from behind. I
rubbed my cheek against his back.
We went to bed and wrapped ourselves around
each other. I buried my face in his neck and
breathed him in, snuggling. His body was hard,
yet it was wonderfully comfortable against mine.
He was so warm and strong, so powerfully male. I
only had to think of him to want him.
I slid my leg over his hips and rose above him,
my hands splayed atop the ridges of his
abdomen. It was dark, I couldn’t see him, but I
didn’t need to. As much as I loved that face of his
—the one he resented at times—it was the way
he touched me and murmured to me that really got
to me. As if there was no one else in the world for
him, nothing he wanted more.
“Gideon.” I didn’t need to say anything else.
Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around me and
kissed me deeply. Then he rolled me beneath him
and made love to me with a tender
possessiveness that rocked me to the soul.
I woke with a jolt of surprise. A heavy weight
crushed me and a harsh voice spit ugly, nasty
words into my ear. Panic gripped me, cutting off
my air.
Not again. No…Please, no…
My stepbrother’s hand covered my mouth and
he yanked my legs apart. I felt the hard thing
between his legs poking blindly, trying to push into
my body. My scream was muffled by his palm
smashed over my lips and I cringed away, my
heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst.
Nathan was so heavy. So heavy and strong. I
couldn’t buck him off. I couldn’t shove him away.
Stop it! Get off me. Don’t touch me. Oh, God…
please don’t do that to me…not again…
Where was Mama? Ma-ma!
I screamed, but Nathan’s hand covered my
mouth. It pressed down on me, squashing my
head into the pillow. The more I fought, the more
excited he became. Panting like a dog, he
rammed against me over and over…trying to
shove himself inside me…
“You’re going to know what it feels like.”
I froze. I knew that voice. I knew it wasn’t
Nathan’s.
Not a dream. Still a nightmare.
God, no. Blinking madly in the darkness, I
struggled to see. The blood was roaring through
my ears. I couldn’t hear.
But I knew the smell of his skin. Knew his touch,
even when it was cruel. Knew the feel of his body
on mine, even as it tried to invade me.
Gideon’s erection battered into the crease of
my thigh. Panicked, I heaved upward with all my
strength. His hand on my face dislodged.
Sucking air into my lungs, I screamed.
His chest heaved as he growled, “Not so neat
and tidy when you’re the one getting fucked.”
“Crossfire,” I gasped.
A flash of light from the hallway blinded me,
followed by the blessed removal of Gideon’s
smothering weight. Rolling to my side, I sobbed,
my eyes streaming tears that blurred my view of
Cary shoving Gideon across the room and into
the wall, denting the drywall.
“Eva! Are you okay?” Cary turned on the
bedside light, cursing when he saw me curled in a
fetal position, rocking violently.
When Gideon straightened, Cary rounded on
him. “Move one fucking muscle before the cops
get here and I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp!”
Swallowing past my burning throat, I pushed up
to a seated position. My gaze locked with
Gideon’s and I watched the haze of sleep leave
his eyes, replaced by a dawning horror.
“Dream,” I choked out, catching Cary’s arm as
he reached for the phone. “He’s d-dreaming.”
Cary glanced at where Gideon crouched naked
on the floor like a wild animal. Cary’s arm
dropped back to his side. “Jesus Christ,” he
breathed. “And I thought I was fucked up.”
Sliding off the bed, I stood on shaky legs, sick
with lingering fear. My knees gave out and Cary
caught me, lowering to the floor with me and
holding me as I cried.
“I’m gonna crash on the couch.” Cary ran a hand
through his sleep-mussed hair and leaned into the
hallway wall. The door to my bedroom was open
behind me and Gideon was inside, looking pale
and haunted. “I’ll set out some blankets and
pillows for him, too. I don’t think he should go
home alone. He’s shredded.”
“Thanks, Cary.” The arms I had wrapped around
my middle tightened. “Is Tatiana still here?”
“Hell, no. It’s not like that. We just fuck.”
“What about Trey?” I asked quietly, my mind
already drifting back to Gideon.
“I love Trey. I think he’s the best person I’ve ever
met aside from you.” He bent forward and kissed
my forehead. “And what he doesn’t know won’t
hurt him. Stop worrying about me and take care of
you.”
I looked up at him, my eyes swimming in tears.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Cary sighed, his green eyes dark and serious.
“I think you need to decide if you’re in over your
head, baby girl. Some people can’t be fixed. Look
at me. I’ve got a great guy and I’m giving it to a girl
I can’t stand.”
“Cary…” Reaching out, I touched his shoulder.
He caught my hand and squeezed it. “I’m here if
you need me.”
Gideon was zipping up his duffel bag when I
returned to my room. He looked at me and fear
slithered in my gut. Not for me, but for him. I’d
never seen anyone look so desolate, so utterly
broken. The bleakness in his beautiful eyes
frightened me. There was no life in him. He was
gray as death with deep shadows in all the angles
and planes of his breathtaking face.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
He backed up, as if he wanted to be as far
away from me as he could get. “I can’t stay.”
It worried me that I felt a surge of relief at the
thought of being alone. “We agreed—no running.”
“That was before I attacked you!” he snapped,
showing the first sign of spirit in over an hour.
“You were unconscious.”
“You’re not going to be a victim ever again,
Eva. My God…what I almost did to you…” He
turned his back to me, his shoulders hunched in a
way that scared me as much as the attack had.
“If you leave, we lose and our pasts win.” I saw
my words hit him like a blow. Every light in my
room was on, as if electricity alone could banish
all the shadows on our souls. “If you give up now,
I’m afraid it’ll be easier for you to stay away and
for me to let you. We’ll be over, Gideon.”
“How can I stay? Why would you want me to?”
Turning around, he looked at me with such longing
it brought fresh tears to my eyes. “I’d kill myself
before I hurt you.”
Which was one of my fears. I had a difficult time
picturing the Gideon I knew—the dominant, willful
force of nature—taking his own life, but the
Gideon standing before me was an entirely
different person. And he was the child of a
suicidal parent.
My fingers plucked at the hem of my T-shirt.
“You’d never hurt me.”
“You’re afraid of me,” he said hoarsely. “I can
see it on your face. I’m afraid of me. Afraid of
sleeping with you and doing something that will
destroy us both.”
He was right. I was afraid. Dread chilled my
stomach.
Now I knew the explosive violence in him. The
festering fury. And we were so impassioned with
each other. I’d slapped his face at the garden
party, lashing out physically when I never did that.
It was the nature of our relationship to be lusty
and emotional, earthy and raw. The trust that held
us together also opened us up to each other in
ways that made us both vulnerable and
dangerous. And it would get worse before it got
better.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Eva, I—”
“I love you, Gideon.”
“God.” He looked at me with something that
resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me
or himself, I didn’t know. “How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“You just see this”—he gestured at himself with
a wave of his hand. “You’re not seeing the fuckedup,
broken mess inside.”
I inhaled sharply. “You can say that to me?
When you know I’m fucked up and broken, too?”
“Maybe you’re wired to go for someone who’s
terrible for you,” he said bitterly.
“Stop it. I know you’re hurting, but lashing out at
me is only going to make you hurt worse.” I
glanced at the clock and saw it was four in the
morning. I walked toward him, needing to get past
my fear of touching him and being touched by him.
He held up a hand as if to hold me off. “I’m
going home, Eva.”
“Sleep on the couch here. Don’t fight me about
this, Gideon. Please. I’ll worry myself sick if you
go.”
“You’ll be more worried if I stay.” He stared at
me, looking lost and angry and filled with terrible
yearning. His eyes pleaded with me for
forgiveness, but he wouldn’t accept it when I tried
to give it to him.
I went to him and took his hand, fighting back
the surge of apprehension that hit me when we
touched. My nerves were still raw, my throat and
mouth still sore, the memory of his attempts at
penetration—so like Nathan’s—were still too
fresh. “We’ll g-get through this,” I promised him,
hating that my voice quavered. “You’ll talk to Dr.
Petersen and we’ll go from there.”
His hand lifted as if to touch my face. “If Cary
hadn’t been here—”
“He was, and I’ll be fine. I love you. We’ll get
past this.” I walked into him, hugging him, pushing
my hands beneath his shirt to touch his bare skin.
“We’re not going to let the past get in the way of
what we have.”
I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to
convince.
“Eva.” His returning hug squeezed all of the air
out of me. “I’m sorry. It’s killing me. Please.
Forgive me…I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” My eyes closed, focusing on the
feel of him. The smell of him. Remembering that I
once feared nothing when I was with him.
“I’m so sorry.” His shaking hands stroked the
curve of my spine. “I’ll do anything…”
“Shh. I love you. We’ll be okay.”
Turning his head, he kissed me softly. “Forgive
me, Eva. I need you. I’m afraid of what I’ll become
if I lose you…”
“I’m not going anywhere.” My skin tingled
beneath the restless glide of his hands on my
back. “I’m right here. No more running.”
He paused, his breath gusting harshly against
my lips. Then he tilted his head and sealed his
mouth over mine. My body responded to the
gentle coaxing of his kiss. I arched into him
without volition, pulling him closer.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, kneading
them, circling the pads of his thumbs over my
nipples until they peaked and ached. I moaned
with a mixture of fear and hunger, and he quivered
at the sound.
“Eva…?”
“I—I can’t.” The memory of how I’d woken up
was too fresh in my mind. It hurt me to deny him,
knowing he needed the same thing from me as I’d
needed from him when I told him about Nathan—
proof that the desire was still there, that as ugly as
the scars of our pasts were, they didn’t affect what
we were to each other now.
But I couldn’t give him that. Not yet. I felt too raw
and vulnerable. “Just hold me, Gideon. Please.”
He nodded, wrapping his arms around me.
I urged him to sink to the floor with me, hoping I
could get him to fall asleep. I curled into his side,
my leg thrown over his, my arm draped over his
hard stomach. He squeezed me gently, pressing
his lips to my forehead, whispering over and over
again how sorry he was.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered. “Stay.”
Gideon didn’t answer, didn’t make any
promises, but he didn’t let me go either.
I woke sometime later, hearing Gideon’s heart
beating steadily beneath my ear. All the lights
were still on, and the carpeted floor was hard and
uncomfortable.
Gideon lay on his back, his beautiful face
youthful in sleep, his shirt lifted just enough to
expose his navel and the ripped muscles of his
abdomen.
This was the man I loved. This was the man
whose body gave me such pleasure, whose
thoughtfulness moved me over and over again. He
was still here. And from the frown that marred the
space between his brows, he was still hurting.
I slid my hand into his sweatpants. For the first
time since we’d been together, he wasn’t hot steel
in my palms, but he quickly swelled and thickened
as I tentatively stroked him from root to tip. Fear
lingered just beneath my arousal, but I was more
afraid of losing him than of living with the demons
inside him.
He stirred, his arm tightening around my back.
“Eva…?”
This time I answered him the way I couldn’t
before. “Let’s forget,” I breathed into his mouth.
“Make us forget.”
“Eva.”
He rolled into me, peeling my shirt off with
cautious movements. I was similarly tentative in
undressing him. We approached each other as if
each of us was breakable. The bond between us
was fragile just then, both of us apprehensive
about the future and the wounds we could inflict
with all of our jagged edges.
His lips wrapped around my nipple, his cheeks
hollowing slowly, his seduction subdued. The
tender suckling felt so good I gasped and arched
into his hand. He caressed my side from breast to
hip and back again, over and over, gentling me as
my heart raced wildly.
He kissed across my chest to the other breast,
murmuring words of apology and need in a voice
broken by regret and misery. His tongue lapped at
the hardened point, worrying it, before
surrounding it with wet heat and suction.
“Gideon.” The delicate pulls expertly coaxed
desire through my skittish mind. My body was
already lost in him, greedily seeking the pleasure
and beauty of his.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispered. “Don’t
pull away.”
He kissed my navel, and then moved lower, his
hair caressing my stomach as he settled between
my legs. He held me open with shaking hands and
nuzzled my clit. His light, teasing licks through my
cleft and the fluttering dips into my trembling sex
took me to the edge of insanity.
My back bowed. Hoarse pleas left my lips.
Tension spread through my body, tightening
everything until I felt like I might snap under the
pressure. And then he pushed me into orgasm
with the softest nudge of the tip of his tongue.
I cried out, heated relief pulsing through my
writhing body.
“I can’t let you go, Eva.” Gideon levered over
me as I vibrated with pleasure. “I can’t.”
Brushing away the tear tracks from his face, I
stared into his reddened eyes. His torment was
painful for me to witness, hurting my heart. “I
wouldn’t let you if you tried.”
He took himself in hand and fed his cock slowly,
carefully into me. My head pressed hard into the
floor as he sank deeper, possessing my body one
thick inch at a time.
When I’d taken all of him, he began to move in
measured, deliberate thrusts. I closed my eyes
and focused on the connection between us. Then
he settled onto me, his stomach pressed to mine,
and my pulse leaped with panic. Abruptly
frightened, I hesitated.
“Look at me, Eva.” His voice was so hoarse it
was unrecognizable.
I did, and saw his anguish.
“Make love to me,” he begged in a breathless
whisper. “Make love with me. Touch me, angel.
Put your hands on me.”
“Yes.” My palms pressed flat to his back; then
stroked over the quivering muscles to his ass.
Squeezing the hard flexing flesh, I urged him to
move faster, plunge deeper.
The rhythmic strokes of his heavy cock through
the clenching depths of my sex pushed ecstasy
through me in heated waves. He felt so good. My
legs wrapped around his plunging hips, my breath
quickening as the cold knot inside me began to
melt. Our gazes held.
Tears coursed down my temples. “I love you,
Gideon.”
“Please…” His eyes squeezed shut.
“I love you.”
He lured me to orgasm with the skilled rolling of
his hips, stirring his cock inside me. My sex
clenched tightly, trying to hold him, trying to keep
him deep in me.
“Come, Eva,” he gasped against my throat.
I struggled for it, struggled to get past the
lingering apprehension that came from having him
on top of me. The anxiety mingled with the desire,
keeping me on edge.
He made a hoarse sound filled with pain and
regret. “Need you to come, Eva…need to feel
you…Please…”
Cupping my buttocks, he angled my hips and
stroked over and over that sensitive spot inside
me. He was tireless, relentless, fucking me long
and hard until my mind lost control of my body and
I came violently. I bit his shoulder to stem my cries
as I shook beneath him, the tiny muscles inside
me trembling with ecstatic ripples. He groaned
deep in his chest, a serrated sound of tormented
pleasure.
“More,” he ordered, deepening his drives to
give me that delectable bite of soreness. That he
once again trusted us both enough to introduce
that little touch of pain chased away the last of my
reservations. As much as we trusted each other,
we were learning to trust our instincts, too.
I came again, ferociously, my toes curling until
they cramped. I felt the familiar tension grip
Gideon and tightened my grasp on his hips,
spurring him on, desperate to feel him spurting
inside me.
“No!” He wrenched away, falling to his back and
throwing an arm over his eyes. Punishing himself
by denying his body the comfort and pleasure of
mine.
His chest heaved and glistened with sweat. His
cock lay heavily on his belly, brutal-looking with its
broad purpled head and thick roping of veins.
I dove for it with hands and mouth, ignoring his
vicious curse. Pinning his torso with my forearm, I
pumped him hard with my other fist and sucked
voraciously on the sensitive crown. His thighs
quivered, his legs kicking restlessly.
“Damn it, Eva. Fuck.” He stiffened and gasped,
his hands shoving into my hair, his hips bucking.
“Oh, fuck. Suck it hard…Ah, Christ…”
He exploded in a powerful rush that almost
choked me, coming hard, flooding my mouth. I
took it all, my fist milking pulse after pulse up the
throbbing length of his cock, swallowing
repeatedly until he shuddered with the surfeit of
sensation and begged me to stop.
I straightened and Gideon sat up and wrapped
himself around me. He took me back down to the
floor where he buried his face in my throat and
cried until dawn.
I wore a black long-sleeved silk blouse and slacks
to work on Tuesday, feeling the need to have a
barrier between myself and the world. In the
kitchen, Gideon cupped my face in his hands and
brushed his mouth across mine with heartrending
tenderness. His gaze remained haunted.
“Lunch?” I asked, feeling like we needed to
cling to the connection between us.
“I have a business lunch.” He ran his fingers
through my loose hair. “Would you come? I’ll make
sure Angus gets you back to work on time.”
“I’d love to come along.” I thought of the
schedule of evening events, meetings, and
appointments he’d sent to my smartphone. “And
tomorrow night we have a benefit dinner at the
Waldorf=Astoria?”
His gaze softened. Dressed for work, he looked
somber yet collected. I knew he was anything but.
“You really won’t give up on me, will you?” he
asked quietly.
I held up my right hand and showed him my ring.
“You’re stuck with me, Cross. Get used to it.”
On the drive to work, he cuddled me in his lap,
and again on the ride to lunch at Jean Georges. I
didn’t speak more than a dozen words during the
meal, which Gideon ordered for me and I enjoyed
immensely.
I sat quietly at his side, my left hand resting on
his hard thigh beneath the tablecloth, a wordless
affirmation of my commitment to him. To us. One
of his hands rested over mine, warm and strong,
as he discussed a new property in development
on St. Croix. We kept that connection throughout
the entire meal, each of us choosing to eat onehanded
rather than separate.
With each hour that passed, I felt the horror of
the night before drain away from both of us. It
would be another scar to add to his collection,
another bitter memory he’d always have, a
memory I would share and fear along with him, but
it wouldn’t rule us. We wouldn’t let it.
Angus was waiting to take me home when my day
ended. Gideon was working late, and then going
directly from the Crossfire to Dr. Petersen’s office.
I used the length of the drive to steel myself for the
next round of training with Parker. I debated
skipping it, but ended up deciding it was
important to keep to a routine. So much in my life
was uncontrollable at the moment. Following a
schedule was one of the few things totally within
my power.
After an hour and a half of tagging and
groundwork with Parker at the studio, I was
relieved when Clancy dropped me off at home
and proud of myself for working out when it was
the last thing I’d wanted to do.
When I stepped into the lobby, I found Trey
talking to the front desk.
“Hey,” I greeted him. “Going up?”
He turned to face me, his brown eyes warm and
his smile open. Trey had a gentleness to him, a
kind of straightforward naïveté that was different
from the other relationships Cary’d had before. Or
maybe I should just say Trey was “normal,” which
so few of the people in my and Cary’s lives were.
“Cary’s not in,” he said. “They just tried calling.”
“You’re welcome to come up with me and wait. I
won’t be going out again.”
“If you really don’t mind.” He fell into step beside
me as I waved at the gal at the front desk and
moved toward the elevators. “I brought something
for him.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I assured him, returning his
sweet smile.
He eyed my yoga pants and tank top. “You just
get back from the gym?”
“Yeah. Despite it being one of those days when
I’d rather have done anything else.”
He laughed as we stepped into the elevator. “I
know that feeling.”
As we rode up, silence descended. It was
weighted.
“Everything all right?” I asked him.
“Well…” Trey adjusted the sling of his
backpack. “Cary’s just seemed a little off the last
few days.”
“Oh?” I bit my lower lip. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just feel like
maybe something’s up with him and I’m missing
what it is.”
I thought of the blonde and winced inwardly.
“Maybe he’s stressed about the Grey Isles job and
he doesn’t want to bother you with it. He knows
you’ve got your hands full with your job and
school.”
The tension in his shoulders softened. “Maybe
that’s it. It makes sense. Okay. Thank you.”
I let us in to the apartment and told him to make
himself at home. Trey headed to Cary’s room to
drop his stuff, while I went to the phone to check
the voice mail.
A shout from down the hallway had me reaching
for the phone for a different reason, my heart
thudding with thoughts of intruders and imminent
danger. More yelling followed, with one voice
clearly belonging to Cary.
I exhaled in a rush, relieved. With the phone in
my hand, I ventured to see what the hell was going
on. I was nearly run over by Tatiana rounding the
hallway corner still buttoning her blouse.
“Oops,” she said, with an unapologetic grin.
“See ya.”
I couldn’t hear the door shut behind her over
Trey’s shouting.
“Fuck you, Cary. We talked about this! You
promised!”
“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Cary
barked. “It’s not what you think.”
Trey came storming out of Cary’s bedroom in
such a rush that I plastered myself to the hallway
wall to get out of his way. Cary followed, with a
sheet slung around his waist. As he passed me, I
shot him a narrow-eyed glance that earned me a
fuck-off middle finger.
I left the two men alone and escaped into my
shower, angry at Cary for once again ruining
something good in his life. It was a pattern I kept
hoping he’d break, but he couldn’t seem to kick it.
When I came out to the kitchen a half hour later,
the stillness in the apartment was absolute. I
focused on cooking dinner, deciding to go with a
pork roast and new potatoes with asparagus, one
of Cary’s favorite dinners, in case he was home
for dinner and needed some cheering up.
The sight of Trey stepping into the hallway while
I was putting the roast in the oven surprised me,
and then it made me sad. I hated to see him leave
looking flushed, disheveled, and crying. My pity
turned to fierce disappointment when Cary joined
me in the kitchen with the scent of male sweat and
sex clinging to him. He shot me a scowl as he
passed me on his way to the wine fridge.
I faced him with my arms crossed. “Screwing a
heartbroken lover on the same sheets he’s just
caught you cheating on isn’t going to make things
better.”
“Shut up, Eva.”
“He’s probably hating himself right now for
giving in.”
“I said shut the fuck up.”
“Fine.” I turned away from him and focused on
seasoning the potatoes to put in the oven with the
roast.
Cary grabbed wineglasses out of the cupboard.
“I can feel you judging me. Stop it. He wouldn’t be
half as pissed if it’d been a man he caught me
fucking.”
“It’s all his fault, huh?”
“Newsflash: Your love life isn’t perfect either.”
“Low blow, Cary. I’m not going to be your
punching bag over this. You messed up, and then
you made it worse. It’s all on you.”
“Don’t get on your damn high horse. You’re
sleeping with a man who’s going to rape you any
day now.”
“It’s not like that!”
He snorted and leaned his hip against the
counter, his green eyes filled with pain and anger.
“If you’re going to make excuses for him because
he’s sleeping when he attacks you, you’ll have to
make those same excuses for drunks and
druggies. They don’t know what they’re doing
either.”
The truth of his words struck me hard, as did the
fact that he was deliberately trying to wound me.
“You can put down a bottle. You can’t quit
sleeping.”
Straightening, Cary opened the bottle he’d
selected and poured two glasses, sliding one
across the counter toward me. “If anyone knows
what it’s like to be involved with people who hurt
you, it’s me. You love him. You want to save him.
But who’s going to save you, Eva? I’m not always
going to be around when you’re with him and he’s
a ticking time bomb.”
“You wanna talk about being in relationships
that hurt, Cary?” I shot back, deflecting him away
from my painful truths. “Did you screw Trey over to
protect yourself? Did you figure you’d push him
away before he had the chance to disappoint
you?”
Cary’s mouth curved bitterly. He tapped his
glass to mine, which still sat on the counter.
“Cheers to us, the seriously fucked up. At least we
have each other.”
He stalked out of the room and I deflated. I’d
known this was coming—the unraveling of
circumstances too good to be true. Contentment
and happiness didn’t exist in my life for more than
a few moments at a time, and they were really only
illusionary.
There was always something hidden. Lying in
wait to spring up and ruin everything.

Categories: Bared to You