“What do you meanwhy?”
“You’ve made it clear I don’t matter, so who cares if she’s been giving me shit for years?”
“Of course, you matter!” He slams his mug down on the coffee table. “I know we don’t have the relationship you hoped we’d have, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care for you deeply, Lili, because I do. I truly do.” Sincerity bleeds from his eyes, but I’m not sure I believe it.
“If you really meant that, you wouldn’t have broken your promise to me.”
“I didn’t. I haven’t.” He exhales heavily, clawing a hand through his messy dark-blond hair. “You need to tell me why you believe I have.”
A shaky breath flees my lips, and my fingers tremble around my mug. I briefly close my eyes.
“Lili, please.” Caleb takes my free hand in his, and my eyes pop open.
Fiery tingles skate over my hand and up my arm, and I yank it back. He doesn’t get to touch me at will. He lost that privilege when he broke my heart. And why don’t I feel all tingly when Seb holds my hand? It would solve all my problems if I did. Draining the last of my coffee, I place the mug on the table and draw a brave breath. “You know what you did, Caleb.”
He vigorously shakes his head. “I don’t. It’s been killing me for months, and I’ve wracked my brain trying to find the reason,but I have not slept with any NYU students. I promised you I wouldn’t do that, and Ihavekept my promise.”
Tears flood my eyes as that horrible video resurfaces in my mind’s eye. I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to erase the image, but it refuses to disappear.
“But you didn’t, Caleb. You didn’t.” Sadness shrouds me as I open my eyes and finally confront the issue. I knot my hands in my lap as bile swims up my throat. “You had a foursome with three girls from my college. One of the girls has spent years tormenting me, and she loved showing me the proof she’d had sex with you.”
Chapter Twelve
Caleb
“No.” I shake my head. “There must be some mix-up. I always ask women how old they are and where they work, and I never frequent college bars or clubs.” I did that for her after she asked it of me. It was just before she left for NYU. I can still recall the conversation and the longing in her eyes and pain lingering behind her words. I remember feeling like a piece of shit and wishing I could be enough for her.
“There’s no mix-up!” she yells, clenching and unclenching her hands. “She sent me a video.” She lowers her eyes to her lap. “I saw you very clearly.” Her voice turns meek, her words laced with hurt. “Gwyneth was riding you while Susie was…she was sitting on your face and your…your fingers were inside Cara.”
“Lili.” I move right down next to her. “Please look at me.”
“I can’t,” she whispers.
Gently, I tilt her face up with two fingers under her chin. Tears glisten in her eyes and her cheeks are flushed. “Gwyneth is the girl you mentioned to me last year, right? The one you said was a bitch? I wanted to handle her, but you made me swear not to intervene. I haven’t forgotten her name, and I would never fuck anyone named Gwyneth on the off chance it was the samegirl.” I press my free hand to my heart. “I swear it. There must be some other explanation.”
“There isn’t, Caleb. I know what I saw.”
“Show me the video.”
A tear rolls down her face as she cranks out a bitter laugh. “Why on earth would you think I’d keep something like that?” More tears flow down her face, and pressure sits on my chest. “It hurt so much.” Pain is etched upon her beautiful face as she looks out the window. “She cornered me and gave me a blow-by-blow account of their night with you, even explaining how Joshua showed up and Susie called him your clone and wanted him to join in.”
Horror crawls over me as that triggers a memory. “Show me what she looks like.”
“Give me your phone.” She quickly wipes the tears streaming down her face with her fingers before holding out her palm.
I unlock my cell and hand it over. Tension bleeds into the air as she types away. Hair curtains her face in soft waves, and my fingers twitch with an urge to touch the silky strands—a completely alien urge for me. The only time I touch a woman’s hair is when I’m fisting it as I’m plowing into her from behind.
“There.” Her face contorts into an angry grimace as she thrusts the cell at me.
All the blood drains from my face as I stare at the pixie-haired woman on the screen.
“That’s Gwyn.” She swipes her finger to the left. “That’s Susie, and this bitch is Cara.” She swipes again, showing a picture of the redhead.
I remember them, but it’s a little fuzzy. Delving into the depths of my memory, I try to recall the exact circumstances. The pixie slut was the one to approach me after the fashion show. Of that, I’m sure. I also remember the IDs all three were wearing confirming they were a buyer, a stylist, and a publicistfrom a leading global store chain. Pretty sure those names weren’t their real names. It’s not like I’d ever forget the name Gwyneth. Clearly, they stole the IDs or manufactured them, and it’s not like I was going to verify their references. My twin is the one who used to make his fuck buddies sign contracts and provide documentation. That’s never been my style, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the ass in a major way.
I’m opening my mouth to proclaim my innocence and conduct damage control when I falter. Alesso’s words return to haunt me. I swallow thickly over the lump in my throat as acid churns in my gut.
This is the perfect opportunity to make her hate me forever.
