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Resisting Her Ex's Touch

Page 8

by Amber McKenzie


  “Kate, are you okay?” Tate’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she made her way through the hospital atrium towards the building’s exit. It was jarring to hear his voice when she was thinking about Matt. She looked up to find him walking beside her, and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “I’m sorry, Tate, what did you say?”

  “I asked if you were okay.”

  She wasn’t going to lie to Tate. “No, but I am going to be,” she said, with enough conviction to convince both of them.

  “So where are you headed?” she asked as they left the hospital, his early departure as uncharacteristic as her own.

  “I’m guessing the same place you are, to a meeting with Matt McKayne.”

  She shook her head from side to side, the momentary lightness now gone. Who was she kidding? The only person in control was Matt. He had always been in control, it was one of the things that had drawn her to him, but now she was terrified. If he was in control then she wasn’t, and the small whisper of doubt she had over her ability to keep her emotional distance from him blossomed into fear.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about the lawsuit interfering with your fellowship. McKayne seems to know what he is doing.”

  Tate had assumed her anxiety was related to the lawsuit. She should have felt relieved at his assumption but instead she felt insulted. It felt like Tate was choosing Matt over her and it hurt. She couldn’t help her bitter response. “Looks can be deceiving, Tate.”

  “You don’t trust him,” Tate replied, more as a statement than a question. Kate was glad they were walking, wanting to hide her face and blame her expression on the feel of the cold spring chill on her face.

  “You do?” she countered, unwilling to divulge any information about whether or not she trusted Matt, because truthfully she still didn’t know herself.

  “Yes, I do. I am not sure what it is about him. He’s arrogant and he likes to be in charge, but I can tell it comes from a driving need to succeed and do his job well. He probably should have been a surgeon.”

  “Ha,” Kate scoffed, thinking about how Matt’s family would have taken a departure from the legal profession.

  “What is it you don’t like about him?” Tate asked.

  He broke my heart and abandoned me, Kate said inside her head. Out loud she simply said, “I think we are here.”

  They walked into the lobby of the downtown high-rise and took the elevator to the top floor. Tate walked to the receptionist’s desk to check in while Kate took in her surroundings. Matt had done well if the office was anything to go by. There were floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the water. The office reception area was beautifully furnished with comfortable seating and a granite coffee bar. Tate handed her a warm mug. “I thought maybe you should avoid any more caffeine. It’s lemon tea.”

  Kate looked down and noticed the small tremor in her hand that Tate had already taken note of. “Thanks.”

  “Dr. Spence and Dr. Reed.”

  She looked up and saw a middle-aged woman looking at her expectantly. Tate rose with Kate and they followed the woman through the open office area towards a corner office. “Mr. McKayne, Dr. Spence and Dr. Reed.”

  They walked into the office and sat in the two large leather chairs across from Matt’s desk. Once seated, Kate took her first real glance at Matt. He was dressed in a charcoal-gray suit with a blue shirt and steel-gray tie that matched the cold look in his eyes. His jaw was clean-shaven and clenched. She couldn’t read him and that bothered her on multiple levels.

  “You went to Brown?” Kate turned to look at Tate, who was looking past Matt at his framed degree hanging on the wall behind the desk.

  “Yes, I did my undergraduate degree there, before going to Columbia Law.” She was watching Matt intently, waiting for him to change the focus and start discussing the case, but instead he was staring at Tate like she wasn’t even in the room. He wouldn’t, there was no way he would.

  “Tate, as your lawyer, I need to disclose to you a potential conflict of interest I have in regard to this case.”

  “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  Kate tried to speak, to stop Matt from saying whatever he was going to say, but no words came out.

  “Kate and I knew each other during our undergraduate degree at Brown. We were lovers.”

  Everything was slipping away. She couldn’t focus. Not on Matt, not on Tate, not even on her own thoughts and feelings that were racing through her. Cruel. This was cruel to her and to Tate. After what seemed like an eternity Tate’s voice broke the silence.

  “I would have appreciated that information much earlier. From Kate,” Tate said in a monotone, turning his head towards her as he spoke. It was the same look he had worn the night they had broken up, one of shock and disappointment. She wouldn’t look away, he deserved her attention, but maintaining eye contact did nothing to assuage her feelings of helplessness and shame. He was right: he had deserved the truth from her.

  “Tate, I can explain,” she said, knowing nothing was going to make this better. She had already destroyed their relationship once, and just when they were finally getting back on track with being the friends they always should have just been, she had lied to him and allowed him to be made a fool of in front of Matt.

  “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Kate. Your sexual relationships are no longer relevant to me, but I thought we were going to be honest with each other from here on in. I guess I was wrong.” He rose from the chair and turned, focusing his attention on Matt.

  “Matt, at this point there is only one thing I want from you. I want this case and my connection to Kate over.” Then he walked out of the room, and the sound of the door slamming behind her made her jump.

  “Kate, I had to tell him,” she heard Matt saying from across the desk with an air of authority and conviction that she didn’t appreciate. His tone only helped to fuel the deep sense of hurt that had been close to the surface since their reunion and now was ready to boil over.

  “You have to do a lot of things, Matt. You have to be the perfect son, the perfect grandson, and now the perfect lawyer. But what you really are is the perfect coward, taking the easy way out, hiding behind all the grandiose responsibilities of your perfect, rich, high-society life, ignoring the real things in life you have to be responsible for.”

  “What are you talking about, Kate?” He hadn’t yelled, but he might have, to look at him. Still, the look of Matt, his jaw clenched, his hands gripping the arms of his chair was not enough to stop the words that she had screamed in her head for years.

  “That’s just it, Matt, you are so screwed up that you still haven’t bothered to figure out what is really important to you.”

  “And Tate Reed? That is who’s important to you these days, is it, Kate?” He had left his chair, his hands bracing his body as he leaned across the desk towards her. Even though they were still feet apart, she felt him, his anger, his fire, and she drew back in her chair, pressing herself into the back of it.

  “Yes, Matt. My friends are important to me and they deserve to be treated far better than what Tate got today.”

  “You don’t think Tate deserved to know we were lovers?” His words were sarcastic, and everything about him reminded her of a hunter about to go in for his final attack, but she wasn’t about to concede to him now.

  “We were never lovers, Matt. You never loved me. You may not remember that, but I do.”

  She stood from the chair and was happy that she had kept her coat with her, feeling more than ready to leave this conversation and Matt’s office. She had turned towards the door when she felt Matt grab her hand and spin her back towards him.

  “Kate, don’t go, we’re not done,” he ordered.

  Grief tore through her and settled low in her stomach. “I didn’t go, Matt, you did. I trusted you once and I was wrong, and I have had to live with that. But we are done, Matt. You decided that years ago.” She backed away and he let her go.

  She wal
ked into the dimly lit establishment that was filled with the rich smell of wood and the sound of fiddle music playing in the background. Her eyes scanned the room until she found what she was looking for.

  She went to the bar, ordered two eighteen-year-old single malt Scotches, and walked over to Tate’s booth, sliding in on the leather padded bench opposite and passing over the tumbler before he took notice.

  “I should have told you about my past with Matt. I was wrong and you have every right not to forgive me, but I really hope you do because you are one of the few people in this world that I trust and I respect so much more than my actions have shown.” Her words tumbled from her with unmistakable sincerity.

  “You have always had more guts than any other surgeon I know.” He picked up the glass she had brought him and took a fortifying mouthful. “That night six months ago you were right.”

  “I know. We both did everything we could to save Mr. Weber but it was futile.”

  Tate shook his head. “No, Kate, you were right about us. We were great friends and we loved each other, but we were not in love with each other. It took me a long time to admit that to myself. My pride was hurt when you rejected my proposal and the anger I felt towards you made it hard for me to realize that I was more angry than sad at what should have been the loss of the love of my life but wasn’t.”

  “And now?” Kate asked tentatively, not knowing where the conversation was going.

  “Now I should probably thank you and apologize to you for being an ass for the past several months, including my part in what happened today.”

  “You have every right to be angry about what happened today. I’m angry. I should have been honest with you from the start when you asked if Matt and I knew each other. But it wasn’t like how he made it sound.”

  “It doesn’t matter. For the most part, what happened in your past is none of my business.”

  “For the most part?”

  “Unfortunately, he is our hospital-appointed lawyer, and requesting a change in counsel might bring to light this little love triangle that I think we all would like to keep under wraps.”

  “The hospital rumor mill would love that. It would give the operating room nurses something to gossip about well after my departure. Kate Spence, surgical slut.”

  “Don’t.” For the first time in the conversation Tate’s anger returned. “You and I both know you are absolutely anything but.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, embarrassed. Despite her level of comfort with Tate, it was still awkward to discuss her sexual history, particularly as he represented half of her total number of partners. He must have felt the same, because he drained the remainder of his glass.

  “He still has feelings for you.” Kate’s eyes flew wide and landed on Tate. “It took me a while to pick up on it because things were so tense and uncomfortable between us, but today at his office I think he was clearly marking what he considers his.”

  “I’m not his, he never wanted me. He made that very clear, repeatedly clear.”

  Tate’s face quirked sarcastically and he changed his voice to a slow,, explanatory drawl. “Kate, I think we have already delicately established that at one time he wanted you very much, and I’m not wrong about him now. Finish your drink and let’s get out of here. We both have early mornings.”

  Outside the bar he hailed them a cab and rode with her back to her apartment. When the cab stopped she immediately saw Matt sitting on the front steps of the brownstone, waiting.

  “You have company. Do you want me to leave?” Tate asked as the cab pulled to a stop.

  “No,” she responded, not sure what she wanted to happen but knowing she was in no state to be alone with Matt. Outside his office, out of his expensive suit, he looked more like the Matt she’d known, and she still didn’t trust herself, angry or not, to be with him.

  Without further words, Tate paid the driver and exited the vehicle, coming around to her side to open the door and secure an arm around her waist both for support and as a statement.

  “McKayne,” Tate greeted Matt.

  “Reed,” Matt replied, before turning his burning stare directly to Kate. “I need to talk to you.”

  “We have already talked today and we both said what we wanted to say. Nothing has changed since then.”

  “By the looks of things, a lot has changed since then.”

  “Not between you and I. Now, if you will excuse us, it’s late.” Kate avoided any further eye contact as she brushed past him, but felt his anger. She opened the door to her building and eventually the one to her apartment, with Tate still behind her. She didn’t look back when the door closed.

  “He’s gone.” Tate answered her unasked question. “And I’m not wrong. Matt wants you. Badly.” There was no jealousy in his words.

  “’Night, Kate. Take care of yourself.” Then he turned and left. Kate walked over to the door and locked up for the night. If only keeping her heart safe from Matt McKayne was that easy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  KATE WAS BACK with Tate. Again the sound of their names together and the very thought of it was sickening. Apparently competition was all Tate had needed to see the light and reclaim Kate as his own, and she had been ready and willing. He walked to the kitchen bar and poured himself a drink. He took a sip, allowing the feeling of the cool liquid flowing down his throat to replace the taste of bile the image Kate with another man brought forth.

  It didn’t help. He reached for his keys on the entry table but then common sense returned. Nothing good would come of going back to Kate’s tonight. It would probably have the opposite effect of pushing Kate further into the other man’s arms. But he needed to do something. Something to take his mind away from the jealousy he felt towards Tate and the anger he felt towards himself for ever letting her go. He dropped the keys back onto the table, peeled off his shirt and went towards the punching bag in the den. Not bothering to change out of his jeans, he hit the bag, once, twice, and then again and again. No matter how many times or how hard he hit the bag, nothing changed. He wasn’t the man in Kate’s life any more, and he was entirely responsible for that.

  He stopped punching and ran his hand through his sweat-drenched hair, feeling his chest rise and fall with the force of his exertion. He needed to cool off his body and his temper so he walked outside onto the penthouse balcony, letting the cold night air hit the bare skin of his chest. He rested his hands on the cement ledge, looking out into the night and without thought in the direction of Kate’s apartment. He couldn’t escape it. Tonight was going to be another night where he relived their ending and the choice he had made.

  Kate had always been a temptation he couldn’t resist. From the moment he’d seen her, to every time he had spent time with her, he had told himself he needed to walk away, until he finally had, but not until after the damage had already been done.

  If he had known how they were going to end, maybe that would have been enough to keep him from her. But from the moment he’d met her she had became like a vice, a secret addiction that he felt powerless against. He had known that it would never last, couldn’t last. Kate hadn’t fitted into his world, and the way they had been together wouldn’t have lasted once his real life had intruded.

  The end was supposed to be graduation. Kate had applied to several medical schools, but of all the Ivy League schools that had accepted her, only Boston had provided her the scholarship she had needed to be able to attend. She’d had no choice: if she wanted to be a doctor then Boston was it. For the complete opposite reasons he’d had to go to New York. Every man in his family had attended Columbia Law and despite his ever-increasing resentment towards his family and their demands, he hadn’t been able to abandon the tradition his own father had been a part of.

  Their end came more spectacularly and painfully than he ever could have imagined. It was Kate’s last night at Brown before she moved home for the summer. It was also their last night together. They had talked about visiting each other, staying in
touch, but both knew their workloads and schedules were likely to make that impossible, no matter how much they wanted it to happen. He also knew that Kate was an indulgence he couldn’t afford to keep, not with the life that was planned for him.

  So that last night she came over to his apartment, like she always did, and they settled in for a night of the “usual.” Take-out, beer and a movie that was meant to serve as a distraction from the inevitable goodbye. As the movie droned on in the background, as she had many times before, Katie cuddled into his side, her naturally cold hands tucked into the warmth of his body. Despite his attraction to her, he had never let their “friendship” become closer than this. What had become torture for him months ago now felt like a lifeline slipping from his grasp.

  He was never going to have this again, be with her again, and as he looked down at her, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Her eyes said everything he was feeling. This was it, this was their end, and her lips started to part. She was going to say goodbye, and he didn’t want to hear it. He needed to stop her and instinct took over as he brought his mouth crashing down on hers.

  Never in a million years would he have imagined the instant explosive desire he felt on contact with her lips. They were soft and pressed against his. Still partly open, he slid his tongue across them, tasting her; she gasped and he slid his tongue into her mouth, wanting more. He encircled her with his arm, his hand weaving into her hair to hold her against him. Then he felt it, the tentative motion of Katie tasting him back. He slowed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her exploring him, before his desire was once again demanding more.

  He pushed them both back across the couch, her body fitting perfectly beneath him. He moved from her lips to her cheek and down her neck, his body supported on one flexed arm, while his other hand dipped underneath her shirt and pressed into her bare abdomen. He heard her moan, felt her arch against him. More, he need more, and he rose from her long enough to pull both their shirts over their heads before coming back to her.

 

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