I should lie. I should totally lie.“Does it really matter what number?”
“Yes!” they both erupt.
I sigh, covering my face. “Three,” I mumble into my hands. Not ashamed, just, I don’t know, confounded. I let my emotions run amok and my good sense run away. I just went with it. Went with everything he was willing to offer. Damon was a scratch that needed to be itched. And we itched the hell out of each other last night.
When I peek through my fingers to look at them, they’re both sporting the same shit-eating grin.
“You are so fucking into him,” Shyla accuses.
“I’m not, I swear. The night just got away from us.” It's my only defense, because I really don’t know how it happened or how we ended up going that far. We weren’t even supposed to hook up. One thing just led to another, then to another, and another, until he had completely consumed me. Until he somehow invaded my subconscious without me even realizing it. Mind and body, and while it was subliminally happening, I found myself liking the psychological infiltration. Needing it. Needing him. But that moment has passed.
He’s clear from my head, the smokescreen lifted. Or has it?
That reel of images and emotions keeps playing, reminding me of all the intensity, the pleasure, the ache, the satisfaction. The escape I so desperately needed. But it’s his words that haunt me the most.“You’re . . . everything. Everything I could ever want, or wish for, or dream about.”
I want to believe he said it in the heat of the moment, a mindless profession fueled by lust, but the look on his face right before the elevator doors closed could lead me to believe otherwise. But I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want emotions involved, residual or any other kind. Damon is part of my past, a blip in my present, and nonexistent in my future.
“You may not want to believe it, Liv, but that man has a hold on you, and you on him,” Sable unapologetically shares her opinion.
“How could you possibly know that? You’re basing your assumption on a one-night stand,” I dispute.
“I made that assumption way before you spent the night with him.”
I shoot hera you’re full of shitexpression.
“I saw the way you two looked at each other at the funeral,” she contests. “Especially him. It was beyond obvious that there are feelings there.”
I choose not to believe her. Damon’s feelings are a work of fiction. An illusion. Now you see them, now you don’t. I’ve experienced what he’s capable of firsthand. He’s fed me niceties before, and I tripped over my own feet believing them. But never again. One heartbreak hand delivered from Damon is all I can take. I can’t, and won’t, open myself up to him like that again.
The means just do not outweigh the end. No matter how attracted or drawn or captivated by him I am.
A firm line has to be carved in the sand.
From this day forward, I’m putting Damon La Rue in my rearview, just like I did ten years ago, and driving straight through with the rest of my life.
“It doesn’t matter what you saw. All that matters is what I want. And Damon isn’t it.”
5
Damon
Liv bailed.
She up and pulled a disappearing act, and now I have to track her down.
Usually, I’m the one ghosting. Now I know how it feels. Pretty shitty, especially when you want to spend every waking second with that given person. I know she’s going through a lot, and last night was pretty fucking intense. When we went up to that hotel room, I don’t think either of us was expecting that outcome.
As explosive and unbelievable as it was. It was also game changing, at least for me. If it wasn't for her, I’m going to convince her otherwise. We belong together. I have never believed anything more. It’s my truest of truths. She’s what’s been missing from my life. I knew Liv was the one at eighteen, and I still know it now. Last night was a testament. A testament that our feelings for each other survived. Survived the separation and suppression.
She’s all I can think about.
I never obsess over a woman. I haven’t since the last time we were together, the hiccup in time that it lasted. I had it bad for the Bowman’s daughter, and I still do. If time has proven anything, it’s that those feelings haven’t died.
Even if I thought they were dead and buried.
I barely got my pants back on before I was calling Hawk to track Liv down. We didn’t exchange anything but bodily fluids last night, so her abrupt disappearance kind of put a damper on my “to have and to hold” plans.
I’m confident if anyone can find her, he can.
