Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Esteban, bastido,” she hisses, her voice heavily accented, hurt and anger clouding her dark eyes. “Our first night in New York, a city with millions of people, and you manage to find her. Did you know she would be here?”
“No, Seville.” Esteban remains calm in the face of his wife’s impassioned rebuke. “I had no idea. Purely coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence.” Seville turns those turbulent eyes on me. “Stay away from my husband, puta.”
Trevor swears under his breath before taking an ominous step toward the couple.
“Listen here, lady,” he says, his Southern accent thickening with the anger practically vibrating off him. “Sofie’s with me. I brought her here, and she didn’t even know where we were eating. So she didn’t arrange to meet your husband. I don’t hit girls, but if you insult her again, I’ll take it out on your little man here.”
He raises both brows, looking between the husband and wife.
“We clear?”
They both just stare at him before nodding.
Trevor invades Esteban’s space in a few steps.
“And if I catch your hands on her again, you won’t be taking anyone’s pictures for a long time. Got it?”
Esteban stares back at Trevor, not agreeing or disagreeing, just smiling like he knows something Trevor doesn’t. And it’s true. He knows things I don’t want Trevor to know, but will probably have to tell him after this. But not here. No one’s really paying attention. This near-disastrous tableau played out with little to no drama. With the dinner crowd none the wiser, but I can’t stay. Without another word, Seville and Esteban walk off, presumably to their table. I turn to Trevor, swallowing the dregs of my anxiety. The more room between Esteban and me, the better I feel, but I still can’t answer Trevor’s questions in this room full of people. And it’s obvious from the firm, straight line of his mouth and the hard eyes that he wants his questions answered.
“Could we go?” I ask, hoping he won’t question me about that, too.
“Sure.” Trevor’s eyes follow the path Esteban and Seville took into the dining room. “Can’t say I want to be the same room as those two. I can call the car service, and a car will be here in a few.”
That encounter shoved me back into a stuffy, dank room I haven’t been inside for years. I could use the air.
“Or we could walk.” I squeeze his hand, offering him a hopeful smile. “My place is just a few blocks away.”
“And we’ll eat what?” Finally a teasing smile appears on his face.
“Don’t expect me to cook.” I try a laugh that sounds close to normal. “But I have a variety of delivery menus for us to choose from.”
“So I dressed up for nothing?” He tosses my words from last night at me, and I volley right back.
“No, you dressed up for me.”
“Yes, I did.” He bends until his forehead rests against mine, laying his hand in the same spot at my back Esteban touched moments ago. The heavy weight of his hand is so different from Esteban’s, whose hands on me made my stomach heave.
We start the short walk, and I thank God I broke these Louboutins in a few months ago, or this would have been a really bad idea. Trevor swings our hands between us, the gesture somehow innocent. Pure. So different from the story I have to tell him before the night is over. Practically before it’s even begun.
“Who was that man to you, Sof?” Trevor drops the quiet question between our swinging hands.
“Can we just walk?” I watch our linked fingers. Mine almost lost in his grip. “We’ll talk at my place. Is that okay?”
Trevor nods and drops my hand, pulling me closer, sliding his arm around my waist, tucking me under his shoulder. I burrow into the scent and strength of him. I wish I could hide from my past here in the shadow of this mountain of a man, but I can’t. First Kyle Manchester and now Esteban. Karma’s a bitch hot on my heels, gaining ground. Outpacing me.
Dread pricks the lining of my stomach. My past with Esteban isn’t pretty. I can’t tell Trevor all of it, the things no one knows, but even the part I will share might make him want me less. Because I know Trevor doesn’t want me for my face or my body or the blond hair that always fascinated Esteban. It’s the promise, the possibility, that there is something behind the Goddess persona worth touching, worth having in his life. I’m afraid my story will convince him otherwise.
I’m afraid he’ll walk away.
All these weeks I thought I wanted that. I pushed him to leave me alone. Now the thought of him giving up on me scares me, disappoints me more than I want to admit.