Dean closes the door, leaning against it. “I crash here from time to time when I need a break.”
“You don’t like living at the clubhouse?”
“It’s not that.” He strips his cut off and hangs it on a hook on the wall. “But after prison… sometimes I just need space from people. A year in a cage surrounded by others will do that to you.”
“I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not telling you so you can feel sorry for me. We both knew I’d end up there someday one way or another.”
Even if I did know that, I don’t like thinking about Dean facing a life sentence for taking the fall for his club. He has no sense of self-preservation. Always protecting those around him.
I sit on the bed, wound tight and sitting up tall, while Dean is the picture of calm composure.
He strips off his shoes and shirt, getting comfortable like it’s every other night, and I can’t help staring at his perfectly carved chest. My fingers ache to trace his muscles, so I grip the blanket tighter.
Dean’s always been nice to look at. His strong stature was built through hard work and dedication. But to see how he’s grown into himself. All muscle and strength. He’s practically pornographic as he walks toward me in low-slung jeans and a wicked smile.
“I told you my shit. Now it’s your turn.” He stops in front of me.
I tear my eyes off his abs and look up to find him watching me. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you seem to give a shit that my brother fucks around on you?”
“Dean—”
“Answer the question, Willa. You accepted his proposal, so you must give a crap.”
“You knew we got engaged?” I swallow hard when he nods, and the hurt in his eyes is a presence in this room. “It wasn’t… It’s not… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” He grabs my chin when I try to look away, forcing my face to his. “For a girl who spends all her time telling me I should care about my own well-being, why don’t you care about yours? You deserve better than him screwing around on you. Why don’t you seem to give a fuck?”
“Because I never cared about him.” I meant to lie, but looking into his eyes, I can’t. “Being with Kincaid was never like that. It made sense, and it made my dad happy, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t love.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Sometimes you do what you need to for the sake of others.” I roll my shoulders back. “You get that.”
“You told me you wanted him. You needed him.”
“We were eighteen, Dean. And after all that shit that happened…” I shake my head, and he lets my face go. “I was reaching for anything to keep it together. You dealt with it by running away, and I dealt with it the best way I knew how, by shoving it down deeper.”
“You were with him for years.”
“I know, and we tried. I’m not going to lie to you and say I didn’t hope it would work out with Kincaid because it would have been a lot easier if it had. But we were never on that level with each other. We couldn’t connect the pieces.”
“He still could’ve had the balls to be faithful to you.”
“Says the guy who spends all his time at a strip club.”
“I don’t cheat on women.” His voice is stone-cold, anger brewing in his eyes. “I do what the fuck I want because I’m single and I can, but I don’t commit to a woman and then fuck around on her. There’s a difference.”
There is, and me trying to compare Dean and his brother is a lame attempt at convincing myself why Dean is still a bad idea for me. But it’s not working.
“Well, I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” I lift my chin. “So long as Kincaid was fucking whoever he wanted, he left me alone. I preferred it that way. We had an understanding.”
“Then why’d you finally end it?”
“Because I found him with Eden.” Emotion ties a rope around my heart and squeezes.
