Determined and slightly hysterical, I pound on Trace’s office door until security gently yet firmly escorts me to the parking garage. Livid doesn’t begin to describe my state of mind as I’m shoved into the back of Trace’s sedan and driven away from the casino.
My hands shake so badly I can’t type out a text, which is probably a good thing. The words I want to send to him are viciously resentful and seething with fuck you’s.
He didn’t just send me away. He had me physically removed from his property.
Is this just a temporary reflex in pissedoffedness? Or has he written me off forever?
I squeeze my fingers around the phone as my heart takes a nosedive into sobbing regret.
I’m not giving up. He can be angry and hurt and shut me out all he wants. But that’s not how this ends. I will not choose one of them by default. When I know who I belong with, it will be decidedly, absolutely, without doubt or fluctuation.
He’s the one who told me to let the decision happen on its own. He told me he’d wait. A month ago, he sat there on my couch and agreed to date me while I dated Cole. He knew this wasn’t an exclusive arrangement. And as intelligent as he is, he knew it was only a matter of time before I broke my stupid no-sex rule.
He just thinks I broke it with the wrong guy.
Did I?
Deep down, I don’t feel a wrong or right answer when it comes to them. I just feel love—bottomless, devoted, undying love times two.
The driver drops me off in front of my house, and Cole greets me at the door the moment I trudge in.
I don’t have to look at a mirror to know my eyes are bruised and swollen from crying and lack of sleep. My shoulders weigh a hundred pounds each, and I can’t stop my chin from trembling.
Cole takes one look at me, and his demeanor shifts from friendly dimples to hard-lined tension.
“What happened?” He cups my face, probing my gaze with alarm in his eyes.
“Trace knows we slept together.”
His forehead wrinkles, and a huff of air escapes his lips. “Is he being a little bitch about it?”
“Don’t.” I shove out of his hold and slip past him with anger burning my cheeks.
He charges after me and catches my elbow in the hall, whirling me around. “What did he do?”
The past twelve hours knot and twist in my gut. Trace seemed angrier about me keeping a secret from him than anything else. I won’t make that mistake again.
“What would you do?” I whisper, staring at the hand on my arm.
“What would I do…” Cole tightens his fingers around my bones. “If you fucked him?”
I close my eyes, nodding stiffly as fear trickles in. I can’t bear the thought of one of them despising me, let alone both of them.
Lifting my chin, I give him my tearful gaze. “We had sex last night.”
He yanks his touch away and shoves his hands in his hair, his voice guttural. “Why?”
“Why?” I stare at him, wide-eyed and blinking rapidly. “I love him, Cole.”
With a great shuddering heave, he rubs his face, his neck, and turns to pace in the small square hall.
“You act surprised by this.” I step into my bedroom and slump onto the bed. “I was going to marry him before you—”
“Do you love him more?” He stands in the doorway, gripping the frame.
“If I knew that answer, we’d be having a different conversation.”
I’d be saying goodbye.
He hangs his head, his chest rising and falling. “Look, I know this is more than you can handle.”
“More than I can handle? Don’t say it like that, like I’m a naive little girl playing in a big man’s world.” I grind my teeth. “Let’s not forget that I waited for you. I waited two lonely, miserable, goddamn years after you died before I even looked at another man. Meanwhile, you’re off fighting wars that don’t exist with the expectation that I’ll run into your arms—celibate and alone—when you miraculously return from the dead.”
“Danni—”
“I didn’t fall in love with Trace out of spite or betrayal or selfishness. I lost you, Cole. I was grieving and miserable with my eyes locked on the rearview mirror. I needed to look forward, move forward, and Trace helped me do that. Then you came back and upended all the progress I made.” I draw in a ragged breath. “You say this is more than I can handle, and I say I’m holding it together pretty fucking well.”
“You’re right.” He pushes off the doorframe and prowls toward me. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. It’s one of the million reasons why you’re the only one I want, now and always.”
He kneels in front of me and runs his hands up my knee-high boots, slipping beneath my denim skirt to caress my thighs.
“Cole.” I grip his forearms, the rigid muscles straining beneath my fingers.
He inches closer, wedging himself between my legs, his hands creeping higher as he takes my mouth in a tender kiss.
I melt against him, needing his affection, his determination, his seduction… No, wait.
“Cole, you can’t—” I scramble back, scooting across the bed and climbing off the other side. “You can’t just force yourself into my space and seduce me and…and fuck me and expect everything to be alright.”
His eyes sharpen, and he surges to his feet. “Isn’t that what Trace did? Last night? You told him about us, and he fucked you until I was eviscerated from your body and mind.”
“No, that’s not—”
“I bet you didn’t think of me once while he was driving into your cunt.”
His words cut, knocking the air from my lungs and welling tears in my eyes. But the torment in his voice breaks my heart. His entire body shakes with rejection and anger. And maybe even fear.
“This is why I didn’t want sex involved in this.” I step to the window and watch the shavings of rain pass over the neighborhood. “It turns a messy situation into a jealous war of pushing and fighting—”
“Maybe you should’ve only fucked one of us.”
“You, you mean?” I spin around. “If I only had sex with you, all of this would go away?”
“Yes.” He clenches his hands at his sides.
“Are you even listening to yourself? Because you sure as hell aren’t listening to me. I love both of you. That means everything I give you, I give to him.” I gentle my voice. “When I returned your engagement ring, do you remember what you said?”
“You’re my heart.” He steps around the bed, his gait slow and heavy. “I can’t live without you.”
“And now?” I sit on the edge of the mattress, following his approach out of the corner of my eye. “Has that changed?”
He lowers beside me and breathes in, out. “No. But…”
I go still, my fingers twitching between us.
“I won’t share you, Danni. I can’t…” He leans forward, folding his hands together between his bent knees. “I can’t sit here, alone in this house, knowing you’re fucking him when you’re with him.”
“He kicked me out of the casino.”
“What?” He jerks his head toward me, working his jaw. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. He’s just… I don’t know. He left last night and didn’t come back. He won’t talk to me.”
“I’ll handle him,” he says with a growl.
“Don’t you dare. This is between him and me.”
I’ll be back at the casino this afternoon, that is if I still have a job.
“You need to understand…” I rub my palms on the skirt. “As long as I’m in this place of indecision, I’m not giving up on him.”
He stares at the floor, clenching his teeth and making his jaw bounce. Then he stands with his hands on his hips and directs his gaze at the doorway. “I need to think.”
I don’t know what I expected, but his sudden need to leave wasn’t it. My shoulders fall, and I lower my head to hide the despair tightening my face. It’s quite possible I’ll end up with neither of them, and I’m not sure I’ll survive that.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He touches my chin, lifting it. “I just…”
“Need to think.” I nod as worry sets in. “I’m going to take a nap until it’s time to go to work.”
He leaves the room, and when I wake from my nap hours later, he’s already left for his job at the stadium.
I drive to the casino and dance through my eight-hour shift, scanning the dining room for any sign of Trace. He always watches me dance.
Except tonight.
Security never showed up to remove me from the stage, so I guess that’s something. I still have a job.
At midnight, I hurry to the dressing room, shower and change clothes, and head to his private elevator. Punching in the access code, I wait for the doors to open.
Nothing.
I try again.
Still nothing.
My blood boils. He fucking locked me out!
Pulling the phone from my pocket, I open a text window.
Me: A) The elevator is broken, B) You’re really pissed, C) This is a test to see if I’ll bang my head on the doors and make an ass of myself.
Me: I need to talk to you.
Me: Please, let me upstairs.
In the seven months I’ve known him, he’s never not responded to my messages instantly. I know he’s reading my texts. Hell, he’s probably watching me on the security feed.
My stomach feels hard, my eyes itchy and hot. If I stand here all night, the only thing it proves is that I’m a desperate, pathetic woman. Clinging to an elevator isn’t fighting. It’s sitting down and taking it. If Trace wants to give me the cold shoulder, I’m not going to suffer it under the watchful eyes of his cameras.
With a steeling breath, I gather what’s left of my self-respect and drive home.
I’m not a wily or cunning person. I don’t know how to manipulate or play games. Stalking and calculation is for people like Trace, and that leaves me at a disadvantage. If he intends to put distance between us, I can only go at him with the things I have: love and stubbornness.
That night, Cole sleeps beside me with a foot of space between us, as if I need more distance in my life. But I don’t fault him for it. I rejected him this afternoon, and if he tried to seduce me tonight, I would’ve rejected him again. Because sex isn’t helping any of us.
And so it goes for the next week. I dance at Bissara, call and text Trace every day, and make attempts to access his elevator.
I haven’t heard from him once, but I see him. He watches me dance from the shadows at the restaurant. Twice, I jump off the stage in the middle of a song to confront him. But he slips away both times, fading into the crowds in the casino.
Avoiding me.
His silence hurts. It makes me feel forgettable, invisible…unwanted. I shouldn’t have to beg someone to be part of my life.
But there’s a difference between ignoring me and pretending to ignore me. I’m certain he’s pretending and decide to test the theory.
At midnight, seven days after he revoked my access to him, I wrap up my shift at Bissara, shower, and change into jeans, a t-shirt, and a heavy wool coat. Instead of heading to his private elevator to perform my nightly ritual of trying my passcode and sending ignored texts, I walk through the lobby of The Regal Arch Casino and Hotel.
My Midget is in the parking garage, but that’s not where I’m going. I don’t glance at the countless cameras in the ceiling, don’t scan the gaming area for his tall lean frame. I stride to the side entrance, where there are no bellhops or other employees who might report my location to the controlling casino owner.
Cold drizzling rain splatters my face as I step outside. A shiver races through me, and I huddle deeper into the coat. A few cars motor past, but the side street at this end of the casino is relatively quiet.
If he’s watching me, he won’t be…right about…now. I just stepped out of view of the exterior cameras.
Following the sidewalk, I hop over to the next street, where numerous small bars and taverns light up either side of the road. I peer into the windows as I pass, soaking up the glowy warmth of the laid-back atmosphere and cheery groups of late-night drinkers.
I chose this path because it’s usually densely populated this time at night, making it safer to walk alone. But tonight, I’m the only asshole standing outside in the icy sleet.
The poltergeist-white pellets spear the calm black sky. It’s neither windy nor raining hard, but every frigid drop seems to find its way beneath my clothes, biting my skin and penetrating my bones. After a few minutes of this, I’m drenched and trembling.
Just as I’m about to turn back, footsteps close in behind me, stomping the pavement at a fast pace.
I spin around and spot Trace sprinting out of the shadows a block away. My chest hitches, and I hurry toward him.
His blond hair falls in sexy sodden strands across his brow. A dark gray suit clings to his muscular frame, every thread saturated and dripping beneath the spitting rain.
Standing just out of arm’s reach, he holds his shoulders back and clutches his phone at his side. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Trying to get your attention.”
His head jerks back, and he blinks against the icy drizzle. “You have my attention. Every second of every day.”
“Is pretending I don’t exist your special way of letting me know I’m on your mind? If so, I must be really dense and stupid.” My teeth chatter against the cold. “It definitely doesn’t make me want to punch you in the nuts. Not even a little. So go ahead. Keep ignoring me. It’s a great approach in building trust and commitment in a relationship.”
He leans in, his blue eyes glowing with anger. “Excuse me if I don’t take advice on trust and commitment from a woman who fucks around behind my back.”
My breath cements in my throat, choking my voice. “Tell me you hate me, that you don’t want me. Say it, Trace. Tell me it’s over. I’d rather hear it than endure your silent treatment. Being brushed off without a word, ignored like I mean nothing… It’s the worst feeling.”
He closes his eyes and wipes the rivers of rain from his face. Then he lifts his phone and types something on the screen.
“My driver’s on the way.” He glances at the entrance to a small bar across the street. “Let’s go inside and—”
“Talk to me, dammit!”
His eyes harden, wide and unblinking as he glares at me. “Are you still fucking him?”
Of course, that’s what this is about, and I don’t hold it against him. If I were in his shoes, I would crumble, gasping and bleeding, beneath the jealousy. I could never share him with another woman. It would destroy me.
The least I can do is ease his mind.
“The last time I had sex was with you.” I hug my chest, shivering.
Every night, Cole sleeps beside me. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, keeping his hands to himself. But he’s still present in my life, casting glances in my direction, touching my lower back and brushing my hair behind my ear whenever he walks by. He’s not ignoring me.
Trace searches my face, expressionless and unreadable. As we stare at each other in the endless rain, my lungs fill with all the words I’ve messaged him during our separation. I love you. I miss you. I need you.
There’s a fine line between fighting for someone and being clingy and desperate. I’ve been walking that line for the past week. Trace knows how I feel. He knows I haven’t given up. Whatever comes next is up to him.
He continues to scowl at me, motionless and eerily silent in the rain, and the reason becomes painfully obvious. His glare doesn’t pin me down with intimidation or hold me hostage as it’s known to do. He’s frozen and staring because he doesn’t know how to proceed.
It doesn’t show in the sharp angles of his beautiful face, but for the first time since I’ve met him, he’s standing before me without an agenda. The calculating controller of schemes and strategy has no idea what to do.
He’s so lost in his head he doesn’t notice the car pulling up until it stops beside us at the curb.
He blinks, straightens his spine, and steps to the side to open the door for me.
I don’t hesitate to slide onto the backseat and escape the freezing rain. As I scoot to make room for him, I realize he’s not following. “Trace?”
With a hand on the roof of the sedan, he leans down, dripping with icy water.
“I don’t hate you.” He trails cold wet fingers across my cheek. “I love you so much I want to be a better man. A man you deserve.”
“Don’t say that. I love you just the way you are.” I clasp my hands around his neck and bring our foreheads together. “I think I have a thing for assholes because I’m the biggest asshole in existence.”
“No, you’re not. Not even close.” He sighs against my lips. “I want to be more, Danni, and it starts with giving you what you need.”
“I need you.”
“You need space. Time to just be. That’s the only way this will work itself out.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing? Giving me space?”
“No, I’ve been…displeased.”
“You mean pissed.”
“Yes.” He releases a breath. “I’m working through that.”
“We can work through it together.” I touch my mouth to the icy, pliable flesh of his. “Let me stay with you tonight and—”
“I’ll fuck you, Danni. If I take you home, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He grabs my throat and breathes against my lips. “I’m seconds away from fucking you right here on the backseat of the car.”
My lungs release a shivery pant, and my skin inflames beneath my wet clothes. But I don’t beg, because I know he’s right.
“I’ll have your car delivered tomorrow.” He releases my throat and steps back on the sidewalk, gripping the door. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
The door shuts with a deadening snick, and my heart crashes against my ribcage. The driver eases the sedan into motion, and my pulse bangs harder, louder, thrashing in my ears.
I touch my fingers to the window as Trace slides his hands in his pockets and hunches in the rain. He watches me, and I watch him, until the darkness stretches between us.
Removing my phone from my coat pocket, I send him a text.
Me: Distance doesn’t separate us. We’re waiting together.
I pull up my playlist and select We Can Hurt Together by Sia. Then I rest my head against the window, humming brokenly to the melody while trying not give into the achy burn in my eyes.
He’s not ignoring me. He just wants to give me space and time. To just be.
Because he loves me.
But he’s also sending me home to another man. What if this so-called space pushes me closer to Cole? Trace might not have a plan, but I know he’s considered this. Still, he put aside his fears and took the risk to give me what I need.
It’s a remarkable act of selflessness that only further endears me to him. Maybe that’s exactly the reaction he intended. If this is all an orchestrated game, I’m playing into it beautifully.
I’m tired of the egos and rivalry and constant state of uncertainty. It makes me question every action and twist around every word. But I can’t lose sight of one important thing.
I trust him.