light streaked by, throwing stripes on her sleepy face—it made her look sad...something that she hadn’t been able to shed even during their intense lovemaking. He sensed her pulling away, but didn’t know what to do about it. Just like Tre, Eleanor was accustomed to going it alone. With Blakely pulling crap, her parents standing across the neutral ground from her, and the enormous history of being a Theriot, Eleanor prepared for a storm. She latched the virtual shutters on her emotions...because she was scared.
He understood. He’d done something similar after his recordings were destroyed, but instead of shutting everyone out, he’d tried to become someone else, to become a regular guy. And he wasn’t a regular guy, no nine-to-five guy, and he never would be. Suburbia felt like a prison. “I didn’t see any signs he was in a gang. No tats, no colors, no vibe coming off him. If anyone were to ask, I’d say he wasn’t involved, but sometimes we don’t know people the way we think we do.”
Eleanor slid her gaze to him as he took the exit off I-10. He wondered what she thought, but was too afraid to ask. He probably didn’t want to know.
They pulled into the police station, and as they climbed the steps to the front glass doors, Dez took Eleanor’s hand in his. She squeezed his hand and looked over at him. “Thanks for coming with me, and thanks for caring about Tre. He’s not easy to know.”
“Who is?” Dez asked.
She stopped. “You’re saying weird things. Did my honesty scare you earlier?”
“No, but I think it scared you.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No, honesty doesn’t scare me. Falling in love does. I don’t want that in my life. I don’t want to feel that...”
“Vulnerable?”
“Yeah. Probably makes me weak, or maybe it makes me a fool, but I feel what I feel.”
Dez shrugged. “Yeah, you do, but I don’t think it’s a good enough reason to run.”
“I’m not running, am I?” she said, her green eyes flashing in the yellow glow of the station lights. “I’m here.”
“Why?”
“Why am I here?”
“Yeah. If we are such a bad idea, why are you still sleeping with me? Why are you still holding my hand?”
She dropped his hand. “I don’t know. If I were smart, I’d stop. We both agreed this was not a forever thing. It’s tearing me and Blakely apart. Causing my parents to side with the Theriots, something that never happens, by the way, but I can’t stop. I can’t let you go...yet.”
He didn’t say anything because her admission tore a hole in his heart. But she was right. If they were going to stay buddies who took mutual pleasure in each other, it should be easy to stop. He’d always been able to walk away when things got too complicated.
So why wasn’t he?
They’d both gotten what they wanted. He’d gotten his muse back and Eleanor had stepped into the dating world with flirting, romance and hot, dirty sex. So why weren’t they finished?
He knew the answer.
She knew the answer.
But neither one of them wanted to talk about where love would take them because it was a path neither had thought they’d take. Uncharted territory.
So it was easier to ignore it.
“Let’s talk later. Tre needs us right now,” he said.
Eleanor nodded and started up the steps again...but she didn’t reach for his hand.
* * *
ELEANOR’S EMOTIONS WERE tangled like jungle vines...and she felt vaguely nauseous. Three glasses of red wine left a girl dried out and woozy. Loving Dez made a girl feel as if she were stuck on a roller coaster. In fact that might be part of the nausea—Dez and the ride she was on with him.
She’d dug her heels in with her family over Dez, but she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.
Why draw a bath if you were planning to shower?
Forever with Dez was implausible, so should she fight so hard for him when there was no need?
It’s not about him. It’s about you.
Yes, voice in her head, very true.
Dez opened the station door and she walked in, squinting against the fluorescent lights, tucking her conflicting emotions about Dez into the background. More important issues were afoot. She could dwell on where she was with Dez later.
The desk sergeant peered up from whatever she studied behind the high desk. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, hi,” Eleanor said, fretting with the threads coming loose on her purse strap. “We’re, uh...”
“Trevon Jackson? They brought him in an hour