“A friend is getting married here this weekend.”
Another beat of tense silence. This is so awkward. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you around.”
“So you like fucking now, huh?” he says.
I lean back, shocked. “Excuse me?”
“I overheard your little gossip session with your friend.”
I glare at him. “You were eavesdropping on us?
“You were pretty loud. I couldn’t tune you out if I wanted to.” He steps closer to me, his glare sharpening. “So you can give it up to your new hockey guy, but you wouldn’t give it up for me, huh?”
I clench my jaw, angry that he would say something so gross. Does he seriously think I owed him sex? After how terrible he was to me?
“Who I choose to be intimate with is none of your business, Damien.”
A bitter laugh falls from his mouth. “Unbelievable. We dated for almost a year. I let you live with me, and not once did you ever give it up. Guess that’s what happens when you’re too nice, like I was.”
My blood boils. I guess he conveniently forgot about the times I tried to have sex with him, but he made me so uncomfortable that we never made it very far.
“That’s not what happened, and you know it,” I bite. “Don’t you dare try to rewrite history.”
“I guess all you needed to open those legs of yours was a pro athlete with a fat bank account.”
I swallow hard, noticing the glazed-over look in his eyes. He’s had too much to drink.
“I’m not going to talk to you when you’re like this.”
He frowns, like he’s offended. “Like what?”
“You’re drunk and saying cruel things about me that aren’t even true.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You are, Damien. I tried to have sex with you. Multiple times. But you always got mad at me. You always got angry that you couldn’t just stick it in and pound away. Did it ever occur to you that maybe that wasn’t the biggest turn on for me?”
I’m careful to keep my voice low so no one else can hear me, but the anger in my tone is clear as crystal.
Damien leans his face closer to mine. “Maybe I wasn’t rough enough for you. It sounds like throat fucking and dirty talk are your thing. Maybe I should have just held you down and done what I wanted with you,” he taunts.
My stomach lurches. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
I move to step around him, but he grabs my arm. I almost spill the tray of drinks I’m holding.
“I’m not done talking to you,” he mutters, his tone dripping with anger.
Just then, I hear footsteps behind me.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
Chapter 39
Camden
Iclench both fists at my sides. Every muscle in my body tenses with the urge to knock this motherfucker out cold.
I don’t know who this guy is. I don’t know why he’s glaring at Ellie. I don’t know why he’s grabbing her. Honestly, I don’t fucking care.
