Irreversible Damage (Irreparable 2)

I glance out the window toward the bay, which is packed with people cycling and rollerblading. I hope his plan isn’t a walk on the beach. I want him all to myself. My door opens, and Brady reaches for my hand to help me out. I take it. My earlier excitement returns as he leads me to the front doors of the hotel.

We walk past the reservations desk and down a long hall until we reach the end. We stand in front of a door.

“Surprise.” Brady’s smile reaches his eyes as he digs in his pocket for the key card. He swipes the card and opens the door. As I step into the room, I freeze. It’s unexpected, but it’s perfect. The heavy curtains are drawn closed, but the room glows with warm flickering light. There must be a hundred candles. How did he do all of this? I close my eyes when his lips brush against my ear. “I couldn’t go back without getting you alone first.”

I turn into him, allowing my lips to graze his. “I love you.”

He smiles against my mouth as he walks us backward until the backs of my legs hit the bed. His tongue traces over my lips as he reaches for the bottom of my sundress. He slips it over my head. His eyes move between my mouth and my bra. His smile wide, he reaches behind me. “As much as I love this, it has to come off.”

I lean in close so he can remove my bra. The instant it’s free, he lowers us to the bed.

Brady and I spend two blissfully ha

ppy hours together before he drops me at my car and heads back to L.A. I’ll see him again in a week. They’ll be in San Diego, so he’ll be home for a couple of days before he has to leave for Central California.

I pick Andrew up from school. We make dinner together. Harrison and Liv arrive in time to eat with us. Afterward, we play a rather competitive game of Pictionary before I take Andrew up for a bath and bed. I cuddle under the covers in my bed, feeling exhausted. For the first time since she left, I feel a minute amount of sympathy for Annabelle. She raised Andrew by herself for four and a half years. My sympathy turns to anger almost immediately. It’s no excuse for her behavior. As tired as I am, I’d get up and climb Mount Everest for the kid if he needed me to. It’s what a mother does. It may be a thankless job at times, but the reward is entirely worth it. When I look into Andrew’s eyes and love reflects back at me, nothing else on this earth is important.

Chapter 27

Tori

After a week that felt more like five years, Brady came home today. Our homecoming is short-lived, as he has to leave almost immediately to go to the Center. Rodrigo is having several classrooms put in, and Brady has to meet the contractor to give him a check. I can hardly complain. Brady’s love for the Center and his desire to help is what first brought us together. It’s a special part of him. Of us.

I decline to go so I can prepare the lasagna that Andrew requested for dinner. Once dinner is in the oven, I get a text from Brady that they’ll be home in an hour, as Andrew is playing with Paco. I glance at the clock. It’s seven. I decide to take a quick shower while dinner bakes.

After my shower, I comb my hair before slipping into some shorts and a tank top. I can’t wait to sit down for diner with my little family. I’ve missed the three of us being together.

I pull the lasagna from the oven and set it on the counter. As I turn, I nearly smack into Tug. I didn’t even hear him come in.

His brown eyes look vacant, with deep black circles underneath them, as though he hasn’t slept in days. Wrinkles cover his dress shirt, which is un-tucked from his slacks and rolled at the sleeves. Nerves dance around in my belly. He watches me put a few dishes in the dishwasher, but doesn’t speak.

I want him to hug me and tell me everything will be okay, that we’re still friends, but I know it isn’t coming. The silence is unbearable. I can’t take it anymore. I finally ask, “What are you doing here?”

An irritated breath rushes out of him. “Why the fuck do you care?”

I figured he’d be upset with me, but I didn’t expect this. I didn’t think he’d be cold and distant. “That’s how it’s going to be?” I close some of the distance between us. I’m angry at his behavior, but I understand it. “You said you were my friend.”

A thoughtless grin lifts his mouth as he shakes his head. “I thought I could be.”

I give him a little shove in the arm. “You can.” I smile.

He doesn’t.

“No, Tori. I definitely can’t. I can still feel your skin on my hands.” His hand slides along my jaw as he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I wake up every day and taste your lips on mine.”

“Don’t do this, Tug.” I back away, unable to look at the hurt in his eyes. I don’t want to hear him say these things. I don’t want him to feel this way about me. “I miss my friend.”

He huffs and glares at me with contempt. As I inhale a long, fortifying breath, my stomach clenches, revolting against the smell of coffee. My gaze lands on a Starbucks cup on the counter. I cover my mouth and sprint down the hall to the bathroom. I empty my stomach and return to the kitchen, prepared to force Tug to accept our friendship, even if it means I have to beg him.

When my eyes meet his, he glances between me and the paper cup. I know immediately something’s off. He knows. His posture relaxes. His eyes soften. He walks right up to me. His hands find the counter behind me. He cages me in. His eyes dart back and forth over mine. I stop breathing. What is he doing? I swallow hard as anxiety courses through my veins.

“Are you pregnant?”

I push against his chest and duck under his arm. I scoff and say, “No.” It’s weak. I feel his eyes following me, but I don’t turn around. His loafers thump across the tile before his fingers curl around my arm. He whirls me around to face him. I slam into his chest. Hair catches in my lip. I blow it away and narrow my eyes at Tug. I’m upset that he’s manhandling me, but I can’t find my voice to tell him to let go.

He keeps a firm grip on my arm, holding me close. “You say you want to be friends, and then you fucking lie to me.” My lips purse as I turn my head. His free hand squeezes both sides of my face. He forces me to look at him again. “Is it mine?” His question comes in a snarl. My heart thumps against my ribs. For the first time in my entire life, I’m afraid of him.

I tear myself free from his grip. His hand strokes his unshaven chin as his eyes stay on me. I have to tell him about the test and hope he won’t say anything until I get the results. “I don’t know.”