Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,77

shouts then lowers his voice. “I have cameras in my room. The video feed is recorded. I can prove it. Hell, you can watch the last four months of footage. You’re the only woman who’s been in my bed.”

“I don’t believe you.” Even though my foolish heart feels like it’s floating out my chest. “You told me you never sleep alone.”

“That was the first day we spent together, and it was true at the time.” He frowns and rubs his forehead. “I haven’t been with a woman since we met.”

I’m too emotionally drained for this. He’s messing with my head and breaking down my resolve.

“What about the woman on your lap at the casino?” I stand taller, bracing my fists on my hips. “Or the dozens of others I see you flirting and drinking with?”

“Last night, with you, was the first time I had sex in four months.”

“Whether or not that’s true, you wanted me to believe you fucked Marlo. It doesn’t make sense.”

“When I was here yesterday, I wanted you to choose me. I needed you to say it.” He slouches on the cushion, dropping his head back and staring at the rafters. “I left here thinking I was nothing more than a rebound, a way for you to bounce back from the only man you’ll ever love.” He glances at the wedding dress beside him and closes his eyes. “When you left work early, I assumed you would seek me out to give your two-weeks notice.”

He couldn’t have been more wrong. I lower onto the futon and massage my temples. I need coffee.

“I’m accustomed to getting exactly what I want.” He looks me in the eyes. “But with you, I’m at a complete loss of control. The feelings you stir in me, the goddamn pain I felt yesterday when I thought you didn’t want me… I wasn’t prepared for this. Jesus, Danni, I’ve never put myself in such a powerless, vulnerable position.”

“Sounds like love,” I say softly.

He stares at me, with something akin to desperation in his eyes.

“Love isn’t a choice, you know.” I finger the fabric of the wedding dress. “You can’t control it. It just…happens, and you better hold on for dear life, because you never know when you’ll lose it.”

“I shouldn’t have demanded you make a choice.” A pained smirk twists his lips, there and gone in a blink. “But I did, and your non-answer was incapacitating. I was hurt, wounded…”

“So you set up the thing with Marlo to hurt me back.”

He nods. “I’m a jealous, vindictive son of a bitch.”

I scoop up the dress and walk to one of the boxes by the stairs—the box that holds the engagement ring. Then I pack the gown away, folding and tucking and keeping my hands busy while I think.

Any trust I had with Trace is broken. It would take a long time to reach a healthy place with him. That’s if we’re both willing to put maximum effort into some kind of future together.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Moving on.” I close the box, straighten to my full height, and stare down at my progress.

He rises from the futon, his eyes softening as he approaches me. “The gravity of that statement isn’t lost on me.”

My brows furrow, and I hold still, waiting for him to continue.

“If anything happened to you…” He stands behind me and places a hand on my shoulder, guiding me to lean back against his chest. “If I lost you, if you died, I’m not sure I would be able to move on.”

I draw in a frayed breath, shivering at the heat of his body against my back. “Relationships don’t always hurt like this. When it’s good, it’s the best feeling in the world. Those are the moments to fight for.”

His mouth lowers, exhaling a warm sigh against my neck, as if my words give him hope for us.

“We’re stuck, Trace. Stuck in a toxic cycle of poisonous mistrust, jealousy, misunderstandings, and closed-off emotions. None of that works in a lasting relationship.”

He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his brow against my temple. “Please, don’t give up on me.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I won’t give in. We have so much shit to wade through, first of which is your relationship with Marlo.”

He spins me around and cups my face. “I’ve never had sex with her.”

Trust. Broken.

I grip his muscled forearm. “I want to see the video footage from last night.”

“My laptop’s in the car.” He grabs