A California Christmas (Silver Springs #7) - Brenda Novak Page 0,30
she’d ever sleep with him again, he was even more delusional than she’d thought.
As soon as the text pinged her phone, she hurried downstairs to tell Dallas. They’d finished a movie only a few minutes ago, which they’d watched together after everyone else went to bed. But she was fairly certain he was still awake and would want to hear the news. After all, he’d asked her a couple of different times if she’d heard anything.
“Dallas?” She knocked softly on his door.
When he opened it, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was no big deal. He was in his own bedroom, getting ready for bed. But the fact that he was only half-dressed gave her enough of a shock that she almost wished she hadn’t come down. He was so firmly in the friend category that the last thing she wanted was to find him sexually desirable, especially after all she’d been through. She didn’t think she’d be capable of trusting a man for years to come. She also didn’t want things to get awkward between them, and knew it would be easier not to think about sex if Dallas wasn’t so attractive.
She told herself not to let her mind drift in that direction, but it was difficult to stop it. Climbing had made his shoulders, arms and torso into a work of art. At a minimum, she had to appreciate the sheer beauty of his body.
“What’s up?” he asked.
She blinked several times before remembering why she’d come down. “Um, Ethan.”
He stepped aside to let her in. “You’ve heard from him?”
“Yeah.” As she slipped past him, she could smell the scent she already associated with him. Although it was subtle to begin with, something she could detect only when she got close enough to him, it was slightly stronger in his room, with both him and his belongings in such a confined space. It wasn’t cologne she noticed; nothing that contrived. She couldn’t name it, but it was earthy and appealing—definitely all male.
The room suddenly felt too small for the both of them, and the fact that a bed took up most of the space made her self-conscious.
He shut the door—probably to give them some privacy, so they wouldn’t wake the others or just out of habit—but it made the room shrink even smaller. “Did he call you?”
“No. He’s still testing the waters. He sent another text.”
“What a coward,” he said in disgust. “What’d the message say?”
There was a chair at the desk in the corner, but there were clothes draped over the back of it. She didn’t feel comfortable sitting there or on the bed, so she stood in the middle of the room, gripping her phone tighter than was necessary. “He said that he regrets what happened between us and hopes I’ll be able to forgive him one day.”
“That’s sort of an admission of guilt,” he said, as though weighing it in his mind. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“It’s not specific enough. If I took it to Heidi, she’d just say he could be referring to the breakup.”
He rubbed the beard growth on his chin. “Is there any chance he could be sincerely sorry?”
This question caught her off guard. She’d been so busy hating Ethan she hadn’t even considered the possibility that he could be experiencing genuine regret. “I guess there’s a chance,” she allowed, but she didn’t find it very likely. Anyone who could do what he did couldn’t have a diligent conscience to begin with.
“If you decided he was, could you ever forgive him?” Dallas asked.
“No. What he did was too personal. It cut me so deeply I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”
When he sat on the bed, she noticed his bare feet. He was completely relaxed, totally casual. They were friends, so he had no reason not to be.
She needed to calm down, but her heart was pounding for no reason.
“He’s a dumbass if he thinks a woman ever could get over that,” he said. “To abuse your trust in that way...” He shook his head. “Every woman he dates from now on will have to wonder if there’s a hidden camera somewhere.”
“I hope his future girlfriends protect themselves better than I did.” She sat on the corner of the bed so she wouldn’t look as uncomfortable as she felt. They’d both been on the couch earlier, hadn’t they? Why was this any different? “What do you think I should say back?”