It hit me then, the memories of that stupid party back in college, the one where I’d made the decision that had led me to now.
TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT, I thought, as I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. Dawson and I had coordinated our costumes for tonight’s Halloween party. We’d dressed as a Harlequin cover—me as a Highlander’s Mistress, and he was dressed, or undressed, I should say, as Fabio, which made me laugh every time I saw him. I’d left him downstairs to get us a couple of drinks while I went to psych myself up.
Tonight everything would change. I could feel it in my bones, and with the way Dawson and I had been dancing around each other for the past few weeks, I knew that something was bound to give soon. And why not tonight, with my breasts all plumped up to mimic a heaving bosom, and, I suspected, not much under his kilt.
Sure, we’d been playing the field, but neither of us had ever settled with anyone serious. And that told me a lot of what I needed to know about how to move things forward.
As I came down the stairs, I searched out the spot I’d left him, and when it looked like he wasn’t back yet with the drinks, I went there to meet him. Only he wasn’t there either.
“Hey, Mike, have you seen Dawson?” I asked one of his friends, who, along with half the crowd there tonight, had gone with a toga costume.
“Yeah, I think he went that way,” he said, pointing down the hall, and I frowned. Why would he go down there? Nothing but bedrooms and—
Ohhhh. Well, hot damn.
Shimmying down my top a bit, I made my way down the hall, peeked in door number one, and immediately regretted it. I’d never look at Sunny the same way, that was for sure. Nobody was behind door number two, which only left…
All right, here goes nothin’. The door was already ajar, and it was then that I heard Dawson’s low chuckle, followed by a female’s seductive purr.
I froze. Oh my God. Was he in there with another girl? Obviously he was, from the sounds I’d just heard, but who? And why? And what were they—
My hand went up to my mouth as bile rose in my throat. Better judgment told me not to open that door, that I didn’t want to see what was going on inside, but it was too late now. I had to.
As I pushed the door open slightly, the occupants inside weren’t fazed in the least that someone had walked in on them. They didn’t even seem to notice. Dawson was lying back on a couch with a brunette straddling his waist, and she whispered something in his ear that made him laugh, and as she tossed her hair over her shoulders, I saw her face.
It was my sorority sister, Destiny. One of my friends, and someone who knew how close Dawson and I were. And now her lips were on his neck, and her hand traveled over his bare chest before sliding down between his thighs. Her fingers massaged him through the kilt, and his head fell back as he groaned. It was only when Destiny dropped to her knees that I forced myself to look away.
Oh God…please tell me I imagined that. That she wasn’t really in that room, that he wasn’t enjoying what her hands—and now probably her mouth—were doing. Fuck, I’d been so stupid. Stupid for not listening when he’d told me to never give anyone the power over me like I’d done with my ex. To keep my options open, that we made our own rules, and the world and its occupants were ours to explore. We’d always had clear boundaries of friendship, and I’d gone and done something like fall for my best friend. I’d turned into a damn cliché. I was a fucking joke.
I was halfway down Kami’s lawn when I stopped myself. Wait. Where was I going? Home to mope? To cry over the loss of something I never should’ve wanted anyway? No. Fuck no. It would’ve been more of a mistake to pour my heart out to him, only to have him fuck and ditch like he did every other girl out there. I wasn’t every other girl. I was Paige motherfucking Traynor-Ashcroft, and there was no way I was letting a boy break me again.
Turning on my heel, I marched back into the house, straight for Mike. Because if Dawson wanted to play the field? Fine. I could play that game too. Only I’d do it better.
MY EYES REFOCUSED on the woman standing too close to Dawson and with a hand resting on his arm. Judging by her lips, painted a Taylor Swift shade of red, her dark brown hair in waves around her bare shoulders, and her barely-there mini dress, it looked like not much had changed since our college days—she was still as much of a sex kitten as ever.
My legs took me the few feet to where they were standing, because if my brain had been the one in charge, I would’ve been gone in a hot second. When I came up behind her, Dawson’s eyes flitted up to mine.
“There you are,” he said, pulling away from Destiny’s grasp.
“Here I am.”
Destiny glanced over her shoulder, but when she realized who I was, her eyes grew big and she turned around.
“Paige? Oh wow,” she said, pulling me in for an air kiss. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as everyone else. Looking for a…cock to grind on, you could say,” I said, throwing his words back in his face.
She laughed, a high, pealing sound. “Oh, Paige. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“And neither have you,” I said, noticing the way she stayed close enough to Dawson to touch.
“Thanks, I try.” She ran her hands down the sides of her dress and smiled. “Damn, how long’s it been? Sophomore year?”
“Sounds about right.” I took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, handed him a twenty, and then downed half of it in one gulp. Fuck me, I never hated on my fellow woman, because Lord knew we needed to stick together, but this was one woman I was content to let fall underneath my damn heel.
“It’s like no time’s passed at all. And Dawson here…well, I think he might be even handsomer than I remember. Edgier. Sexier…”
As she ran a finger down the side of his face, he chuckled and stopped her wrist. “I don’t think that’s entirely accurate, but thank you.”
“Oh, I think it is. Don’t you, Paige?” she said.
Dawson’s eyes landed on mine, filled with amusement as he waited for my answer.
I lifted my shoulder like I couldn’t care less. “Dawson knows he’s gorgeous. That’s never been his problem.”
“Now that’s the first time I’ve ever heard those words come out of your mouth,” he said, grinning at me.
“Guess you’ll be filing that one away to use against me later.”
“Nah, I’m sure I can pry it out of you again.”
After an awkward silence, Destiny cleared her throat, looking between the two of us. “So. Are you two here together, or is this just a happy reunion?”
Dawson winked at me and then said, “Actually, Paige and I are—”
“Neighbors,” I interjected. “Sometimes we get together to blow off steam after a long day, but we’re neighbors. Friends.”
Dawson’s brow puckered, as if he was trying to figure out why I’d done a one-eighty since coming out of the restroom, but if he couldn’t put two and two together, then he wasn’t as smart as I’d thought.
“Ah, good. So you won’t mind me stealing this guy for a little while tonight,” she said, sidling up to Dawson, one of her hands running over his chest.
“Mind? Why would I mind? We’re all consenting adults around here.” I drained the rest of my champagne as a handsome blond across the room inclined his head at me.
Always keep your options open. Wasn’t that what Dawson had told me all those years ago, after my first boyfriend had stomped all over my heart? Yeah, well, little did he know it was his motto that had also been the driving force behind the wedge between us, and it seemed tonight was no different.
No problem. Whatever. If he could do that then I could do the same. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m being summoned.”
I didn’t make it halfway into the crowd when Dawson took a hold of my arm and spun me around to face him.
“What the hell is going on with you?” he said.
“Not a thing. Just here to have a gooood time. Same as you, right?”
/> “I was under the impression we were. What changed?”
“What changed?” Where did I start? “The problem is, nothing has changed. Don’t you see that? You will always be who you are, and I’ll always be who I am, and those two people will never change. They’ll never come together as anything more than the friends they should’ve been this whole time.”
“Hold on, where is this coming from?” He looked over his shoulder at the brunette still watching us. “Is this about Destiny? We haven’t seen her in years. What’s she got to do with anything?”
“Ah, it doesn’t surprise me that you’ve forgotten there’s a history there. Figures.”
“What are you talking about? History with who?”
“Hello—the one who was practically mauling you over there. She did the same thing at Kami’s party back in college, but you seemed pretty into it then.”
Dawson reared back as though he’d been slapped, and I could see the wheels turning as he finally put two and two together. “That’s it? Kami’s party, the last time you had anything to do with me outside of telling me off every chance you got. That’s how this whole thing started, then, huh? The truth finally comes out.”
“You knew I had feelings for you. You knew it, and when I came to tell you, you were having…feelings with someone else. So, yeah. That pretty much sums it up.”
“Holy shit.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking utterly baffled. “First—if I’d thought for one second that you felt anything for me then I would’ve never touched her. I wouldn’t have even been at the fucking party. Second—how was what I did any different from what you were out doing? If I remember correctly, you were the one who went upstairs that night. How did it get turned around that I’m the bad guy?”
“And you’re the one who encouraged me to get out there, explore, play the field, and give no fucks.”
“Oh, we want to go back to that? To when you came crying to me all brokenhearted because asshole what’s-his-name ended things with you? I was trying to help you, Paige. To show you you were worth more than what you thought of yourself at the time.”
“Great job with that. I think I turned out pretty fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that act down pat.”
I opened my mouth to give him another smartass retort, but the reality was, doing that would only lead us back to where we were all those years ago. And it just wasn’t worth it.
“Dawson…I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Yes, you do. That’s all you want with me.”
I looked at him, really looked at him, as we stood there in the middle of the dance floor, unmoving in the sea of people. With his hair pulled halfway back and his collared shirt unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up, he really did look like what I’d said earlier—gorgeous. He was a gorgeous man who should be enjoying gorgeous women and living as loud and bold as he wanted to. Hell, the same went for me. We were too young to settle for being a married couple who fought constantly.
“This was fun. Right?” I said. “You and me, arguing all the time, sometimes falling into bed, sometimes throwing dinner at each other. But it’s not real. This…married couple thing we’ve tried on…it’s not who we are. What happened was an accident.”
“An accident,” he repeated.
“Yeah. And I think it would be best if we stopped trying to hold on too tight.”
Dawson rubbed a hand over his face. “And how do you suggest we do that? What’s the brilliant plan?”
“I spoke with my new lawyer earlier today. He’s taking care of helping me buy out my father’s claim on my house, which means his little blackmail issue with us is now off the table. I can have Logan draw up the annulment papers for us while he’s at it.”
Dawson sighed and gripped the back of his neck. “Paige, come on. That’s not what you want.”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it what’s best for both of us? Dawson, we can’t just change who we are overnight.” Or over a couple of off-the-fucking-charts hot nights. “Let’s call this what it was. An accident. One that we’ve let go on for far too long now.”
“That’s how you really feel?”
“Yes, it’s how I feel.”
He stared at me and then said, “So we pretend like this never happened? Go back to fake-hating each other?”
“Dawson, I don’t hate you. I don’t want to go back to whatever it was we did in the past.”
“But you don’t want to move forward either.”
“I’m comfortable with who I am now. It’s taken me a long time to get here, and like you’ve told me before, I should never let someone else have the power to dictate my feelings. This is getting too messy.”
Dawson’s eyes searched mine, and after minutes passed, he gave a curt nod. “If that’s what you want.”
I swallowed hard. “It’s what’s best.” Then I walked backward away from him before turning and heading for the exit.
“Paige, if you’re leaving, I’ll take you home,” he said, when he caught up to me.
“No need. I’ll get a cab.”
“Paige—”
“Seriously, stay. Enjoy your night. I’ll see you around, Dawson.”
As I made my way to the door, I pulled out my phone and made a request for an Uber car to come pick me up. I could’ve called one of the girls, I supposed, but the thought of having anyone pay witness to whatever fucked-up headspace I was in tonight wasn’t something I wanted them to see. Dawson hadn’t come after me, thankfully, and though I knew cutting ties outside of our friendship was the right thing to do, it still didn’t make the lump in my throat go away or the tightness in my chest ease.
This was for the best. Really, it was. The last thing Dawson or I needed was to be tied down, so if I was the one who had to cut the cords to set us free, so be it.
I just hadn’t expected it to hurt so fucking bad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Night of the Gold
THE NEXT FEW days were anything but easy. Dawson’s bags remained in the guest room, but he hadn’t come home.
Huh. Home. It was weird that I thought of this as his home too, but chalk that up to getting used to the guy. And as much as I’d given him the speech of “let’s have fun and party every night and see other people” and blah blah blah, that had lasted all of one evening, and then my ass had been planted on my couch every night.
And maybe there was a small part of me that had been hoping he’d show up too. That even though we couldn’t be together, we could at least be friends. Do things friends do…that did not include sex or intimate feelings of any kind, but still. That left the door open to a better relationship. A happier one. Most of the people I knew that were married wished they could be living the single life again. Not Dawson’s parents, my brain wanted to remind me, but I shoved that thought where the sun doesn’t shine.
Leaning in the doorway of his room, I sipped on my coffee and wondered if he’d show up. Last night I’d sent him a text that said the annulment papers had been drawn up and we should meet at noon today to get things finalized. He’d responded with a thumbs up, which irked me to no end because USE YOUR WORDS, PEOPLE, but at least he’d responded. And he’d be here in a couple of hours. And then he’d leave with his bags as a free agent, and I’d go back to being a man-eater.
All would be right in the world again. Right?
Pushing off the doorframe, I made my way back to the kitchen, needing a caffeine refill. Something had to get me back to feeling fabulous, and if anything could do it, it was the holy java that came out of my French press.
After adding a bit of coconut milk, I swirled the mixture, and as I brought it to my lips, I heard the doorbell chime. And damn if that didn’t have my heart jumping in my throat, because there was only one person I was expecting today, and though he didn’t need to ring the doorbell, maybe that was the level of comfort we were back to.
As I went to let him in, I found myself fiddling with the hoop of my earring, pulling my hair
over my shoulder, tugging at the hem of my off the shoulder blouse. It was like I was nervous, for Christ’s sake.
Opening the door, I came face to face with…not Dawson.
“Hi, I have a delivery for Richard Dawson,” said the teenager standing in front of me. He wasn’t UPS or USPS or FedEx, and he didn’t have a bundle of flowers in his hand. He’s getting packages delivered here now? Okaay.
“I can sign for him,” I said, taking the pen from the boy and scrawling my name on the slot. Then he handed me a small package, which had no return address listed on the front. “Who’s this from?”
“Fuhrman Photography. Have a nice day, ma’am.” Ma’am…what was I, fifty?
Kicking the door shut, I looked down at the square box that had mine and Dawson’s name on the front. No, really, it was spelled out just like that—Mr. and Mrs. Richard Dawson.
What is this? Fuhrman Photography was one of the businesses I’d worked with in the past, but what would Dawson be getting from there that had to be signed for here? After yanking the tape off, I pulled out a notecard that read, Sorry about the delay, but I think you’ll enjoy the additions you sent. Congrats again, you two! And it was signed, Dave from Fuhrman Photography.
Dave sent this? He was a friend of Dawson’s, and I’d recommended him to a few of my brides in the past. He’d also been filming my parents’ anniversary party in Vegas the night Dawson and I had—
Oh my God.
I looked down at the DVD case that had been hiding under the notecard, and on the front it said, Dawson and Paige, with the date of the day after my parents’ anniversary underneath. If this was what I thought it was, that meant that it was our wedding DVD.
P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons Book 3) Page 17