to look up at him, I try to ignore the sharp edges to his expression. The tension in his jaw is making his cheeks shadow, his stare tangling with mine as if begging me to step closer and ease whatever pain he’s in.
I see memories in his eyes.
Ones I’m not entirely immune to experiencing myself.
Ones that slice at my skin in a desperate bid to reach my heart.
I have to keep the topic of conversation light.
“Who’s Luca?”
“Tanner’s girlfriend.”
His voice is practically toneless on the answer. Distracted. As if what we’re talking about now is only an annoying barrier blocking whatever it is he’s really thinking.
Still, it surprises me. “Tanner has a girlfriend?”
Holy shit.
What woman in her right mind would commit to that man? He’s evil incarnate. The worst of the Inferno, followed closely by Gabe, Jase and Mason.
And why the hell hasn’t Ava told me about this? No, we’re not talking as regularly as we used to, but this is insane information.
Never once has Tanner been so into a girl that he was interested in more than a few hours in bed.
Running a hand through his hair, Damon leans back against a wall.
“Yeah, she was his date at your engagement-“
He cuts that thought off real fast, fury rolling through his expression.
I can’t hold it against him. I feel furious every time I think of it, too. So furious that I’m willing to do anything to break off the engagement.
“Anyway,” he says, dodging the topic, “he’s into her, but it’s complicated.”
That I can believe. There isn’t a situation in this entire world involving Tanner that isn’t complicated.
His picture is next to the word in the dictionary with a see also note directing people to the words treacherous, unholy, deceitful, malevolent, heinous, monstrous and diabolical.
I’m sure I missed a few on that list, but you get the point.
Silence falls between us, and I realize he’s said all he’s willing to reveal about Tanner and the poor woman he tricked into caring about him.
When frustration flashes across Damon’s face, I bring up the point of why I’m here before we veer into dangerous territory.
“What movie are we watching?”
Rubbing at the back of his neck, his fingers squeeze the muscle as if to ease tension before Damon feigns a smile and pushes away from the wall to lead me out of the foyer.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been in their house. We watched a movie here on our second date as well, but I’m still impressed by the minimalist style, the dark stone floors and light grey walls a nod to the modern feel of the house with only sparse accents of jewel-toned color here and there.
I assume they hired an interior designer because decorating isn’t exactly what the twins are known for.
Still, the sleek lines and lack of embellishments practically screams masculine in the space. There isn’t a touch of soft feminine detail to be found.
Even the choice of rooms is telling.
Rather than comfortable living rooms that are light and airy, the twins have pool tables and old-fashioned arcade games, a home movie theater and a home gym.
I’ve never been upstairs to see what’s going on there, but I assume their bedrooms run the same theme.
When we reach the theater room, I drop down onto one of the leather chairs in an effort to keep from being right next to Damon.
Unfortunately, my effort fails.
Rather than taking a seat in one of the other chairs, or even one of the couches, Damon sits down on the coffee table in front of me, wraps his fingers over my calves and leans forward.
“I’m actually kind of glad Ezra isn’t here.”
Crap.
Not good.
Very bad, in fact.
Especially with that look on his face, one I’ve seen once before.
Nervous about where this is going, I attempt to pull my legs away, but his fingers tighten down. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that I know he has no intention of letting this go.
“When is Ezra supposed to be back?” I ask, hoping like hell it’s enough to snap Damon out of whatever this is.
“Not sure.”
Would it be wrong to send an SOS to Ezra? And if I did, what would I say? I have a feeling telling him to get his ass home is something that would require an explanation when he did.
My pulse is a hammer in my throat as I relive the past in stunning clarity. Just one week. That’s all I was given to experience the feeling of being with Ezra.
One week.
Then the promise I