Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,63
her question.”
I leaned back and narrowed my eyes. “What question?”
Nox rolled me over until my head was upon the pillow and he was over my chest. Raising his brows, he said, “I may have seen a few texts when I plugged in your phone.”
“You looked at my texts?”
“No, I plugged in your phone and they were there. And…”
My irritation floated away with the sound of the surf and the kiss of his lips. “And,” I replied, “I told her your balls aren’t blue.”
Nox laughed, his chest vibrating against mine. “Not anymore.”
DREAMS, LIKE FAIRYTALES, all come to an end. We wake or turn that final page. There’s no escaping it. It may take days, years, or an entire lifetime, but forever doesn’t truly exist. No matter how hard we wish or try, the end always comes.
Nox’s and my final day, the last day of my vacation, arrived. Though we’d both awakened early, we’d been granted a short reprieve when Nox successfully lulled me back to sleep. With the sun barely up, I’d drifted away in a sweet cloud of musk, wrapped in the arms of the man I barely knew.
I didn’t know his last name, where he lived, or what he did, but I knew that in the six days and five nights we’d been together, I’d lost my heart to him. I didn’t know if he’d stolen it or if I’d given it. I even tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the entire thing… that it was only a piece of my heart that he now possessed. If that were true, it meant that I would survive. If it were only a piece and even if what I still had within me was broken, I stood a chance of repair. One day I might find the magic we shared. Someday when Alex was ready, when she wasn’t about to concentrate on law school, she could discover what I would soon be leaving.
It was a good tale, a story of fabrication, and one I knew was a lie. The pain within me from the moment we woke was too intense. The evidence pointed to one conclusion: Nox hadn’t taken a piece of my heart. He had the entire thing. Repair would never come. It wasn’t possible to repair what no longer existed.
With each breath, the void of my missing heart ached in my chest.
Though I needed to pack my things and Chelsea and I needed to get to the airport, I wasn’t rushing. Instead, I was sitting across the small table on the balcony of the presidential suite, sipping coffee and moving eggs and fruit around my plate. Our time together was ticking away. The figurative clock would soon strike midnight. If this were Cinderella, I’d be running down the steps and leaving my glass slipper.
For the first time since we’d met, our sentences felt forced—polite and proper. There were so many things we hadn’t said, so many things we wanted to say, but now it was too late. When we were showering, Nox joked about my missing my flight, but other than that, we’d avoided the subject.
“Nox,” I said, debating with myself if I could be at least partially honest. “I know our agreement, and I still believe we should honor it. But there’s something I want you to know.”
His pale eyes looked up from his barely-eaten breakfast. Apparently neither of us had an appetite. “What?”
“I guess I want you to know that this week wasn’t me.”
Putting his fork down, he asked, “What do you mean? You’re not Charli?”
I didn’t want to go there. “I mean that I’ve never before done what we’ve done. I want you to know that I don’t go around meeting men and doing what we did.”
His grin quirked. “You want me to know you don’t sleep around.”
I nodded. Why would he believe me? I let him fuck me in a public bathroom. I asked for it—for his cock. That didn’t sound like someone with standards. “It’s just that… well, I’m sure you have met… other women… had more opportunity…”
“Charli,” he reached across the table and laid his hand down, palm up.
A tear escaped my eye as I placed my hand in his.
His surrounded mine with a squeeze. “I believe you.”
I forced a smile.
“No matter how experienced you think I am or how many women there have been, I’m not what you think. I don’t do this either. I’ve told you—I have unique tastes, and honestly, they don’t bode well for most relationships. I have