My (Mostly) Secret Baby - Penelope Bloom Page 0,53

left, I turned to Damon. We had relative privacy in the small hallway leading to the bathrooms, so I didn’t have to worry about spectators.

“What the hell was that?” I asked. “I don’t need a caveman to bash anyone who looks at me over the head. You just embarrassed us both.”

“That was me wanting you. For myself. All to my goddamn self, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I tried not to, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Remembering the way you taste. You’re addictive, and I spent five years trying to convince myself I wasn’t addicted to something I’d never get my hands on again. And now…”

I gripped his jacket and pulled him in, kissing him on the mouth. He kissed me back slowly and tenderly.

“I’m still pissed at you, for a lot of things,” I said. “But yeah. Okay. It’s possible I feel some of what you’re talking about, too.”

“Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t have more of you.”

“Damon… Trish was here. She stopped me on the way into the restroom. She said something weird about how you were her ‘bitch.’ What is she talking about?”

I hadn’t realized it until the words left me, but it felt like a test. If Damon could finally trust me and open up, maybe I could tell him the truth about Luna. God. I still dreaded that conversation, because I knew I wasn’t completely in the right for keeping the truth from him. Then again, I was willing to be wrong to protect Luna, and that was what it always kept coming back to.

Damon shook his head. “Trish will say anything she can to fuck with me. That’s all.”

“Damon…”

“That’s all,” he said again, more firmly.

And just like that, I felt my resolution to tell him about Luna slip away once again.

25

Damon

It was Sunday, and that meant Chelsea and I were still booked in the same hotel room for one more day. After the disaster of a dinner with Trevor and the quick conversation that made Chelsea go mute on me afterwards, we’d slept separately and barely spoken.

I woke before the sun rose, but I already heard the shower running. The door was closed, and I had no doubt it was locked.

We’d been on the brink of something, but it felt like everything split apart in a single moment last night. She wanted to know what Trish was talking about, and I didn’t want to say.

Was that all it took? Was everything between us really so fragile?

I threw on some clothes, smoothed my bed-messed hair with my hands, and headed out from our hotel room. I needed to talk to Trish.

I sent her a text telling her to meet me at a breakfast place not far from my hotel. I had no idea if she’d show, so I got seated in the corner and ordered some eggs and coffee while I waited.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes before Trish entered. It was early as hell, but she already looked like she’d spent hours applying makeup and fussing with her hair. I remembered how that had driven me crazy when I was with her. She’d been pretty without all the fuss, but she insisted on dumping hours in front of the mirror every day. It made me think about how Chelsea barely wore any makeup. I was no expert, but as far as I could tell, she just wore a little eyeliner. I was sure she probably used some other mysterious, womanly tools of beautification, but it couldn’t have been much.

Damn it. I was thinking about her already. Comparing. Torturing myself by thinking about how much better she was than Trish—the one woman I’d been dumb enough to try to love.

Trish undid the button on her cashmere coat, revealing a tight-fitting blue dress that hugged her curves and breasts. She sat down, then folded her hands in front of herself quietly.

“Why are you still fucking with me?” I asked.

“That’s why you wanted to meet?” Trish asked. She leaned in her eyes lit with anger. “Did your silly, ridiculously short little blondie get mad after what I said? Is that it?”

I was careful not to let any of my annoyance show. “You got everything you wanted when you left. That was the deal. I let you take what you wanted, and you’d leave.”

“Maybe I’m bored of our arrangement. Besides, you knew I was courting Trevor Castle for Jameson Reps. From where I’m sitting, you’re the