He frowns as he hands the money back. “My treat.”
“I’m not having sex with you.”
“Whoa! Who said anything about sex? I’m just here for the meal and the pleasant company.” He acts all offended, but the glimmer in his irises tells me he’s teasing. An unattractive snort escapes me.
“Okay, fine. Mediocre company.” He shoves a piece of bread into his mouth and adds with a smile, “Hot piece of ass.”
“And that’s the Ben we know and love,” I confirm with an exaggerated nod and a sugar packet to his forehead.
“Seriously though,” Ben starts as he scrapes the last mound of pasta from his plate. I wait patiently for him to finish chewing and swallow. “Why’d you agree to come out with me? You’re obviously not over that other guy and, even if you were, I’m no idiot. I don’t know what that day in the gym was …”
Dammit. I am that obvious. I hope I’m not to Trent though. I don’t want him to see through me so easily. He’ll swoop in and melt my defenses with those smoldering baby blues. I shrug. “You don’t want me, Ben. I’m seven layers of f**ked up with a side of batshit crazy.”
He grins but I catch the sadness in his eyes as he throws down a few bills to cover the meal. “I already knew that.”
“Well then why’d you ask me out? Especially after what I did to you that day in the gym?”
He shrugs. “Waiting for your next moment of full on crazy? I’ll be faster next time. In and out.”
I burst out laughing, Ben’s shameless honesty a welcome relief.
“I don’t know, Kace. I’m around a lot of sluts and airheads. You’re different. You’re smart and funny. And you can shrink a guy’s confidence like no other girl I’ve met.”
“I didn’t think anyone could shrink that swelled head of yours, Ben.”
He grins arrogantly. “Depends which head you’re talking about.”
“I hear Trent’s back in town?” Storm whispers to me as I pour shots of Patron for a bachelor party.
“Oh yeah?” I mutter, pursing my lips. I don’t know what else to say. I haven’t forgotten. I can’t get through a minute without his name popping into my mind, without remembering how incredible his touch feels against my skin, without wanting it all back the way it was for that short, magical period of time before he ripped my heart out of my chest and tossed it to the curb.
I hate him for making me feel like this. For giving me hope only to yank it all away. For pulling me above the water, helping me breathe again, before shoving my head back under.
So when I find him staring down at me from the other side of the bar near last call, I have to brace myself against the bar, anger and grief slamming into me with such force that I struggle to stay upright.
“What do you want?” I hiss.
“I need to talk to you.”
“No.”
“Please, Kacey.” That tone, that voice. Already, I felt it probing for my weak spot, a place to wiggle in and win me over. I won’t let it. Not this time.
“You had three weeks to talk to me and … oh wait!” I smack my forehead for effect. “You disappeared off the face of the f**king earth. That’s right. I almost forgot.”
“Just give me five minutes,” he pleads, leaning forward.
“Fine! Go ahead. This is the perfect time and place to talk.” My arms fly out, exaggerating how much this is not the perfect time and place to talk.
Trent’s jaw tenses. “I mean it, Kacey. Five minutes, in private. I need to explain something. I need … you.”
“Oh, you need me? Interesting.” I force the words through clenched teeth. Inside, the glue that holds me together strains against that word. Need. Trent needs me. “Fine.” I slap my towel down onto the bar and holler, “back in five, Storm.”
She looks over, sees Trent, glances at me with concern, but then nods.
“Come with me.” I stomp past him, acutely aware that Nate and Ben are following close, but I continue. I march past Jeff and Bryan, the two bull dog bouncers who watch over the private rooms. They don’t try to stop me. I’m sure my stiff spine and scowl that says “back the f**k away before I choke you with your own tongue” has something to do with that.
My leg flies forward to kick open the door to an available room. Spinning on my heels, I stand with arms folded across my chest, watching Trent’s lean body and his apprehensive face come towards me. Jerking my head toward the room, I command, “Get in.”
“Kacey …”
“You said private. How much more private can you get than a private room?” I ask, my tone coated with ice.
With a defeated sigh and a small nod, Trent passes through. Behind him, I see Ben lean in to say something to Nate. It seems to keep the beast at bay. Ben heads toward me with a look of concern. “You okay, Kacey?”
“What do you think, Ben?”
His chin furrows in thought. “I think I’ll stand guard out here. I won’t come in. Not unless I hear something that sounds bad, deal?”
“Deal.” I offer him a small nod of appreciation. I think, after our sordid past, Ben and I have come to an understanding. I may even call him a friend.
I storm into the room, slamming the door behind me. Inside is a small dimly lit space with a black lounge chair and mood music, different from what plays out in the main club area. Storm says they have staff to thoroughly clean and sanitize the rooms after each client leaves. Even if that’s not true, right now I don’t care.
I stalk over to where Trent stands and I shove him backward into the lounge chair. Then my hand fumbles with the side zipper of my skirt.
“What are you …” Trent begins to ask but his words die as I unzip my skirt and let it drop to the ground. I step out of the skirt as my hands move to unbutton my gauzy blouse, starting at the top, sliding buttons through eyelets deftly.
“Kacey, no.” Trent leans forward.
My three inch heel slamming into his chest forces him back into his seat.
“This is what you came for, isn’t it? This is what you need?” My tone is as cold as a deep freeze. “What you’ve always wanted?” I toss my shirt on the floor and glower back at him in nothing but my bra, panties, and heels. “This is the part where you tell me I’m so beautiful. So say it. Say it so we can get this over with, and you can disappear again.” My voice wavers a bit at the end and I clam up, not trusting it right now.
“No, Kacey. Jeez.” Trent slides off the chair onto his knees, his hands finding their way to my thighs to hold them delicately.
“No touching the girls. Did you forget the rules already?” I sneer at him.
His eyes haven’t left mine, and in them I see a torrent of indescribable emotion that threatens to melt all of my defenses. I have to break his gaze and look away, a lump forming in my throat that I can’t seem to shove down.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause you more pain that you’ve had to endure.”
“Really? Leaving me a vague note the morning after Storm’s attack—after we have sex for the first time—and then disappearing for almost three weeks is your way of not causing me more pain?” My voice cracks and I grit my teeth. I hate my voice.
His head bows forward against my belly as his hands slide up to my hips before moving back down to my thighs again. They feel so good. I don’t want them to feel good. Damn, traitorous thighs. Fight it, Kacey. Fight it.