Fuck.
Why was she even talking to Hayden fucking Hearst?
“Get the fuck out, Dexter.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but the shake of his head and his bitter laugh is enough to tell me he thinks I’m a fool.
And I’m not anybody’s fool. Ever.
AVA
Damon’s quiet the entire drive home. It’s been one of those days where everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. Mom still isn’t talking to me despite my best efforts to reach out to her. But Damon’s here, and he makes everything better.
It seems crazy that I can’t imagine not having him with me. Seems crazy that a few months ago we were at each other’s throats. I guess not everything happens the way you think it will.
We walk into the apartment, and unlike he usually does, he heads straight to the kitchen. Normally he gets changed into sweats and then we figure dinner out together, but today he’s gone straight to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.
I guess his afternoon wasn’t any better than my morning.
Dropping my purse by the breakfast bar, I head toward the bedroom. I need to change out these clothes.
“Where were you last week?” he asks dryly.
I freeze, my heart hammering in my chest because I know exactly what he’s asking, and I’ve been dreading this conversation. Especially after he was given access to my schedule.
I turn, trying to figure out the best way to tell him where I was, because I don’t want him to freak out. And I know he’s going to lose his shit.
“Dammit, Ava!” His voice booms around me, making me shudder. “Where the fuck were you?”
He seems so angry. Maybe he already knows.
Of course he doesn’t.
It’s impossible. The only person that knows is Lacie because I had to talk to someone. I had to know that I wasn’t being stupid or…I don’t know. Things with Damon have moved so fast. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, but…
“Start fucking talking,” he bites out before he throws what’s left of his red wine down his throat. “Now!”
I take a moment to gather myself, stupidly, because it only makes him angrier. Refilling his glass, Damon looks up at me. There’s so much hurt and indignation on his face that I can’t hold his stare.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about Hayden and Beckett?” He takes another measured gulp of his wine. “What? You were going to leave me like you left Monroe? High and dry?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I gave you everything you wanted. Everything you never had at Monroe…wasn’t it enough? You had to go behind my back…”
“I didn’t…I…”
“Then why were you meeting with Hayden fucking Hearst instead of Robert Rhodes?”
All the blood drains from my head to my feet. And I curse this day for ever happening because it just keeps getting shittier.
I wander over to the breakfast bar, standing opposite him with the counter between us.
“I bumped into Hayden at the bar I was meeting Lacie at. He came over and we spoke briefly. He asked if I was happy at CPM, and I told him I was where I belonged. It wasn’t a meeting. It lasted all of two minutes.”
He remains quiet, nursing his wineglass. I’m about to walk away again when he asks, “Then why did you lie?”
“Because I was freaking out about you freaking out. When you called me, I was at the doctor because…because I was late. Like really fucking late, and I’m never late.”
He looks at me blankly, like I’m talking out of my ass. He’s so fucking clueless.
“God, Damon, I thought I was pregnant. Is that clear enough?”
“You thought?” he breathes, looking overwhelmed.
“Yes, I thought I was pregnant because why else would I be late, right? And we fuck a lot. Like a lot. And…and then I took a test, but it was all funny. It wasn’t negative or positive, so I called Lacie and she said that I needed to go to the doctor. Of course, I did, because that’s what any grown-ass woman would do if the home test was all weird and shit. But I was freaking out because it’s too soon and…God, you don’t even trust me.”
“How am I meant to trust you if you can’t be up-front with me about things,” he murmurs, looking into his glass.
“I was feeling awful and I panicked. And I didn’t lie—I rescheduled my meeting with Robert after I left you because you looked worried, and I didn’t want to put another thing on you.” It’s the truth. After I left him, I couldn’t bear the thought of having to sit with Robert and try to pretend that I was okay when I was anything but.
Damon reaches for my hand, but I’m just so tired of today and the way he was so quick to jump to conclusions without talking to me first.
My Damon bubble is popped, and I’m feeling a million things because I’ve trusted him in spite of everything he did to me. The blackmail. The bullying. The coercion.
I trusted him in spite of it all.
“I already had an appointment booked with my doctor for after the meeting with Robert, so I met with Lacie earlier and she went with me. It just happened that I got to the bar first and Hayden was there. He saw me and he came and talked to me. Did he try to sound me out? Absolutely, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”
“Ava…” He tries to reach out again, but instead I grab my purse from the floor.
“Maybe if you weren’t so ruthless and conniving, then maybe you wouldn’t have trust issues. You know? If you didn’t go around fucking people over, you wouldn’t be so damn paranoid about being fucked over.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so damn afraid of stating your feelings, then I wouldn’t have to wonder what the fuck we’re doing here!”
I don’t bother replying. Instead, I walk away, leaving him with his wine and his distrust. I can’t deal with this right now. I can’t even think straight anymore.
“Go on, run away, Ava. Go! It’s what you do, isn’t it? You fuck off when things don’t go your way.”
“Fuck you, Damon. And fuck your love. And all your shit!”
I slam the door to his apartment and get in the elevator as soon as it arrives.
I’m done.
Chapter Twenty-Two
AVA
I don’t bother going into the office for the rest of the week. For two days I hide in my apartment and pretend the last few months haven’t all come crashing down like my four years with Marsh.
Go on, run away, Ava!
I’m not running away, and I don’t have issues with my feelings. Being careful isn’t a crime. Maybe I should’ve been more careful.
Definitely should’ve been more careful, I sigh, throwing the negative test in the bin.
There’s still no show from Aunt Flow, and I’m waiting to get the blood test result from my doctor. She said she would call, but I’ve heard nothing from her yet.
Maybe it’s a good sign?
I’m not sure how I feel about either outcome. Baby or no baby. Pregnant or not. It all seems unimportant when Damon isn’t here. I’m trying not to make myself sick with anxiety while at the same time I’m trying to convince myself that the breather between us is a good thing.
Clarity. Space. And loneliness.
I feel so terribly lonely without him that all I can do is crash back into bed.
It’s the middle of a Saturday afternoon, and all I can think about is what he’s doing. If he’s as torn up over our argument as I am.
It’s award day and it was meant to be our first public event together. Instead, I’m lying in my bed trying to force myself to sleep so that I can escape this horrible feeling in my chest, my bones, and my stomach.
I flit through my phone, staring at his number, willing him to call me because it feels like an entire part of me is missing. The happy part that believes in silver linings.
He doesn’t call, and with the slew of my lonely tears, I drift off. It’s all black like endless night until warmth envelopes me and there’s a crackle of light.
And my dreams are haunted by his scent and his strength. They’re an inescapable reminder of everything I’m missing.
“Ava.”
I whine at my bleary consciousness. Wishing it away.
“Baby.”
No. Go away.
“Ava!”
My eyes flutter open to my bright sunshine-filled bedroom and the pounding at my door that may as well be in my skull.
Pound, pound, pound!
“Ava, open the damn door. I know you’re in there.”
Bang, bang, bang!
“Do not make me break this door down!”
Fuck.
My body is achy as I trudge through my apartment.
God, this is not what I had in mind when I willed him back to me. Why does he have to be a bull in a china shop with everything?
I take a deep breath before I open my door. I don’t have it in me to argue if that’s what he came here for.
I hope it isn’t.
Damon stands there looking at me, his wallet between his teeth as he holds his bank card aloft like he was about to break in.
Jesus, he’s fucking crazy,
“You realize you can’t break in with that, right?” I point to the metal guard that overlaps the seam of the lock.
Shrugging, he puts his card and wallet away. It’s only then I notice he’s all dressed up in his tux. He looks so good that it takes everything in me not to throw myself at him.
“What are you doing here?” I block him when he tries to walk into my space, and he sighs a long, drawn-out, and tired breath.
“You didn’t tell me what the doctor said. And I’ve given you space, but it’s enough now.” He unhooks a dress bag from the picture rail outside my door and drapes it over the small chair by the sideboard in my hall.
Taking my hand, he guides me to my couch, sitting me before he perches on my coffee table. The thing is a rickety antique that could collapse at any moment, but he leans over his knees, looking at me like everything else can just fucking disappear.
“I was a jerk.”
“Jackass.”
“Fine. I was a jackass the other da—”
“Actually, asshole’s better.”
“Ava,” he growls. “I was a huge jerky asshole, and I’m sorry.”
His apology is straightforward, but it’s sincere. He’s not here with his cocky attitude or mightier-than-thou smirk.
“I should’ve handled things differently. Given you the chance you deserved to talk to me without accusations looming over us. I just…” He pauses, looking at me, his dark eyes sloping like all the happiness has been sucked out of him too. “I…I just…”
His stuttering over his words has my heart squeezing in my chest and tears flooding my eyes because Damon’s not a wordless person. He’s lost his words as I’ve lost the silver linings. And it only serves to make the sadness greater.
“There’s no excuse or justification for my actions, except that I’m an asshole and you deserve better.”
The conversation we had that first night at the bar about Marsh flits into my head, and I blurt, “And a sack of shit.”
He chuckles at that, adding, “An incredibly stupid shack of shit.”
I nod, waiting for him to continue.
“I brought your dress.”
“For what?” Of course, now I’m being a bitch, but with all the fretting going on inside me, I don’t want to be weak right now.
“For tonight.” Damon stands and heads back to my front door, coming back with the designer garment bag in his hand. “Every couple fights and argues…”
“We didn’t just argue, Damon. You accused me of going behind your back because you heard I spoke to Hayden. So, what? Next time someone tells you they saw me talk to another guy, are you going to accuse me of cheating on you?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I? Because it felt like you did just that. You accused me of cheating your trust. And furthermore, you haven’t given me shit. I’ve worked hard. I’ve done things that quite frankly I’m not even proud of. I did every fucking thing I swore I would never do. I let you railroad me and coerce me…and in spite of it all, I trusted you enough to let you in. To love you.”
He looks at me like his whole world has been made right. And I realize too late that I let him have the only thing that I was holding on to.
My love.
The one thing I’ve given him in the guise of lust and trust and kindness…I’ve handed it to him on a platter when he least deserves it. And it’s odd how comforting it feels to do it.
A tear escapes me and rolls down my cheek, the go-ahead all the others need to follow. “All you had to do was trust me too.”
“And I do.”
“Not enough to know that I would never hurt you intentionally.”
“You can’t love someone you don’t trust, Ava, and I love you more than everything.” He sits beside me, pulling me onto his lap. “I can apologize again and again, but unless you’re willing to accept it…it’s pointless.”
My finger finds the freckle by his lip, tracing from it to his jaw. Damon is so damn gorgeous, everything about him makes me want to lose myself to him, but what turns my want into a need is the heart I know he guards so closely.
I know he’s let me in there because he’s not an apologetic man. He’s not someone that lives on his feelings; he’s ruthless and conniving and brilliant, but he feels when it comes to me…and I can’t hold that against him.
“I should’ve told you about my appointment. I was too chicken because I told you I was covered and now…”
“I don’t care.” He pauses, shaking his head. “That came out wrong. I do care but not in a bad way. And besides, it’s not only your responsibility.”
Lowering his forehead onto mine, he nudges his nose over mine.
“What are you doing?”
“They’re called Eskimo kisses. Mom used to say they make everything better when I was little.”
I’m inclined to agree with Elizabeth. They’re the best thing I’ve felt in days.
“You still haven’t told me what the outcome was.” Damon searches my eyes, the hand on my legging-covered thigh rising to hold my waist.
“I don’t think I am. I took another test this morning, and it was negative. I’m waiting on my blood test result. Apparently, it could be too early to tell with the usual home tests, or it could be that my body has fallen out of sync. I hope it has because I’m not ready for a baby. And I’m scared…look at Fran.”
“Yeah, the whole baby thing is petrifying.” He says that like he’s had firsthand experience, and it leaves me curious. “Oh?”
“Mom really wanted another child, but…it never worked out. I was a fluke.”
“A good one.” I’m looking at him, and all I think of are the baby photos Elizabeth had around their home.
I’m kind of thawed by the picture of a little boy just like him: thick, dark hair, deep chocolate eyes and beautiful golden skin. Maybe he’d have a freckle just like his daddy’s… I love that freckle. And I love his lips. And his eyes.
“I love you, little mouse.” His hand cups my face before he kisses me softly, and before he can pull away, I kiss back. Harder.
I suck his lip into my mouth, and I don’t let it free until Damon opens his. His tongue licks over mine with a groan, and he takes his time savoring me, just as I take my time relishing in his hold and touch.
We only stop to come up for air, and as he smiles at me, I tell him, “I love you too.”
“Enough to go with me tonight?”
“More.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
AVA
The awards were great. The long night was exhausting, and although my parents were there with Marsh, I tried not to let it sour things for Damon and me. But it’s hard to be indifferent when the people who raised you can’t even afford you a smile.
Thank God for Damon, that’s all I can say. He’s the best distraction, and the worst beca
use the rest of the weekend was spent wrapped up in him rather than Warner. Now that Robert’s book is done, I’m focusing on Callum’s. I’m more excited to learn more about him than I thought I’d be. Especially with the way Lacie has spoken of him.
“Knock, knock!” Owen pokes his head into my office. “Look who’s home!”
“Hey, stranger!”
“I should be calling you stranger. You’re never in this office anymore.” He sits in the chair across from me. “But then, you’ve been a busy girl…”
“Don’t you start with your gossip.” I ball up a Post-it note and throw it at his head. “How’s your Oscar winner?” I ask him about his client to deviate him from my business. Not that I don’t like Owen, it’s more that I don’t want to talk to anyone in this place about me and Damon. It makes for awkward gossip, and I’m not into it.
“Nice try.” He flicks the note back at me and sits up straight. “Is it true we bought Monroe?”
I actually laugh at his question, because that’s definitely something Damon would never do, especially not without talking to me first.
“That’s not an answer, Avie.”
“Of course not.”
“That’s not what all the little birdies are saying,” he sings with mock innocence.
“I’m sure we don’t pay you to gossip on company time, Mr. Clay.” My gaze flicks to my open door to find Dex standing there.
“I was just asking Ava about Monroe.” Owen stands, shrugging at Dex as he makes to leave.
“Oh. I’m pretty sure no one’s meant to know about that yet, seeing it only completed this morning.”
It’s impossible. My heart falls to my stomach, a cold sweat chilling me.
“That’s not true.”
Owen’s gone when Dex saunters in, smiling. “You better believe it. Monroe is officially a part of the family.”
“My father would never sell…”
He looks around my office, chuckling like I’m a naïve little girl he’s got to school. “He didn’t have a choice. Damon made damn sure of it. Why did you think he practically handed you this job without an interview?”
Forbidden: A Romance Anthology Page 39