My stomach twists and humiliation sets in. For us to move on, he deserves to know my story. Even if it means slicing open the wound of raw betrayal.
“It’s not a pretty story.”
“Already figured that out on my own. There’s no way I can leave tomorrow with this between us. Tell me what happened to you, so I make sure it never happens again.”
“I’ll tell you everything, but first make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“When I explain, promise me you’ll never look at me differently.”
“Nothing you could tell me would ever make me see you as anything but perfect.”
The tenderness and sincerity in his voice are all it takes. If I can trust this man with my heart, I can trust him with my ugly past.
“In college, I was in a serious relationship with a man that cheated.”
“Poppy, he was an idiot. You have got to know, I’m not that man.”
“He was nothing compared to you. But he wasn’t the idiot in this situation. I was inexperienced and trusting.”
“Just because you weren’t sleeping with him doesn’t give a pass to cheat. That’s not a man, that’s an asshole. Don’t take that on yourself.”
“Sex was only half of it. And even with the humiliation and the unfaithfulness, I was grateful to him for not taking that from me. He left me with that small piece of dignity.”
“I can understand how that would scar you, but it was a long time ago.”
“It scarred me, but not how you think.”
His body visibly tenses, but his thumb continues to graze gently along my jawline. He patiently waits for me to continue.
“Cheating wasn’t the worst part. Isaac Blake did the ultimate betrayal.”
He freezes and his eyes flash with recognition. “Isaac Blake the Tight End in the NFL?”
“Yes. But he wasn’t in the NFL yet when we dated.”
“What did that fucker do?”
I suck in a deep breath and prepare to tell him the secret only a few people in my life know.
“Isaac Blake slept with my sister.”
Chapter 9
Evin
I sip the whiskey, staring at the bathroom door while replaying her words over in my head. It’s one thing to get hurt by an asshole that can’t keep his dick in his pants. But to fuck her sister?
When the door opens, she gives me a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. Every instinct in my body screams for me to take her in my arms and tell her nothing else matters, but my curiosity is winning out. I want to know everything.
She takes my hand and guides us to the sofa, folding into me when we sit.
“I haven’t been completely honest and upfront with you about my birth family. For you to understand what happened, I need to go back to the beginning.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious your sister fucked you over.”
“It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. When you leave tomorrow, you need to know the truth about who I am.”
“I know who you are.”
“You know who I am now. The woman I’ve spent almost eight years becoming. But there’s a lot more to this story and a history that can’t be denied.”
“Baby, I don’t want you upset—”
She places a finger to my lips. “You deserve to know.”
A knot forms in my gut at the possibilities of what she’s about to share. Although nothing could shock me more than knowing my Poppy dated an NFL superstar and he banged her sister.
“My parents are Marco and Karen Bindel.”
I jerk involuntarily, recognizing the name well. “Marco Bindel, the Governor of Virginia?”
“Yes, but Marco wasn’t Governor until last year. He wasn’t into politics at all while we were growing up. He was pondering the State Senate race but wanted to wait until we were in college. Before that, he was an executive.”
“We? How many siblings do you have?”
“Just my sister.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s twenty-nine.”
“You have a twin?” I ask in disbelief.
“Irish twin, she turns thirty soon. Which is the beginning of my story.”
She takes my glass and sips the liquor, grimacing as she swallows, then continues. “Tasha and I were normal sisters until high school. By then, I’d already found my love of dance and performing, but she’d never stuck to anything. She resented me and was vocal about it, always undermining my passion for dance. My parents listened to her, and when I declared I was going to college for dance, they refused to support it. Remember when I told you I had to get a scholarship for school?”
“And you busted your ass to do it?”
“My dad was eyeing politics and Tasha fell into the role perfectly, studying business and political science in college in Virginia. She loved the idea and notoriety of what a political lifestyle would offer. This delighted my parents.
“I found an avenue to go to school and study dance with a minor that I thought would be acceptable. It wasn’t enough for them. They weren’t financially responsible for my education.”