I knew that feeling too well.
“How does his face look?”
“Like a busted pinata.”
“God…” She carried the plates to the table and sank into her chair, covering her face with both hands.
I took the seat beside her and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling it away from her face. “Come on, you’re too beautiful to hide your face.”
She dropped her other hand and sighed. “They hate me, don’t they?”
“No. Actually, the contrary.” I grabbed my fork and started to eat.
She turned to me, visibly surprised. “They don’t?”
I shook my head as I chewed. “My brother is not your typical guy. He was impressed by your punch.”
“What?” she asked incredulously.
“And his wife understood after the fact. I told them I didn’t tell you I had a twin.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d bump into him on the street.”
She grabbed her fork and started to eat.
I watched her face as I ate, loving the way she struggled with her humiliation, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve, tears in her eyes. “They told me you were devastated when you thought I was married.”
She spun her fork around and collected a portion of the noodles. “So?”
“That you were completely and utterly devastated.”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“A woman who doesn’t care. But you clearly do.”
She continued to spin her fork even though all the noodles were securely wrapped around the utensil.
My hand moved to her wrist, my fingers giving her a light squeeze.
She sighed in defiance.
“Baby, look at me.”
She refused.
Maybe she wasn’t just humiliated about what she did to my brother. Maybe she was humiliated by the way she felt about me, the way she allowed me to pierce her heart and every other inch of her body.
She finally turned to me, the shame still in her eyes.
I interlocked our fingers and continued to stare at her, to look into those gorgeous green eyes and see her thoughts written with bright ink. “I’d be just as devastated…”
I sat on the couch in my living room and watched the game while she sat on the other end of the couch, reading a book. Summer had faded quicker than normal, fall coming quick and sudden, so she wore my t-shirt and my sweatpants, the fire in the hearth burning to keep her warm.
I was pretty much naked and totally fine.
She grabbed her phone and checked the time before she sighed. “I should get going.” She closed the book and left it on the coffee table. Her things had been gradually left at my house, extra clothes, her books, some heels. They were left in random places, on my nightstand, in my drawer, in my closet, etc.
I pulled my gaze away from the game. “Why?” It was getting late in the evening, and I knew she didn’t have a performance on a Wednesday night. I tried not to demand explanations from her because she never did it to me, but this time, I couldn’t help it.
She rose from the couch. “I have a dinner to go to.”
“Dinner?” I asked, wondering if it was a girls’ night.
“Yeah.” She placed her hands on her hips. “The entire ballet is going to this charity dinner at the Tuscan Rose. So, I need to head home and get ready.” As if she hadn’t said anything worth discussing, she walked down the hallway to the bedroom.
I watched her go, the muscles in my arms tightening in annoyance. It only took me a few seconds before I followed her, telling myself to tone down my anger before I even spoke. I stepped into the bedroom and watched her return her essentials to her bag. “You better be fucking joking.” My attempt to control my anger was unsuccessful—extremely. But I was a candid man who spoke his mind, especially to the woman who had prime real estate in my bed.
She stilled at my words, her eyes widening at my outburst. “What?”
“Don’t what me,” I snapped. “You have an event to go to, and you didn’t think to ask me.”
She shoved her heels inside and sighed. “It’s black tie. You don’t wear stuff like that—”
“But I have the ability to buy it.”
“Well, there’s no time now—”
“Because you purposely waited until the last minute.”
She stopped packing and stared at me.
“Why don’t you want me to come with you?”
She shed her clothes and put on the jeans and shirt she’d left out. “It’s not really your thing. This is a fancy event. You don’t know how to act or talk to people.”
My eyes narrowed. “You think I’m stupid?”
“That’s not what I said—”
“It’s what you’re implying. And trust me, I can handle a few pretentious assholes in suits. You should see the other shit I handle on a nightly basis.”
She left my clothes on the bed and shouldered her bag. “Heath—”
“Baby.” I came farther into the room, my eyes burning into her face. “I’m your man. You don’t go to shit alone when you have a man. How would you feel if I went somewhere and pretended I didn’t have a woman at home?”