room. Not because there wouldn’t be a next time, but because I had guilt knowing that there would be one. It seemed inevitable. I’d given in to all my desires, and I was sure I’d only crave him more now.
When Jenna found out, I was going to lose her. And I deserved to, didn’t I?
I didn’t want to think about it right now. The guilt would come soon enough, and it’d be crushing.
The electronic trill of my phone came from my bedroom, and for a moment I considered ignoring that too and staying cozied up under Troy’s arm. But it was likely Ardy, wanting to know how my meeting had gone with the potential new client. He didn’t like how mysterious I’d been, and curiosity was eating him up.
“I should get that,” I said, reaching for my robe.
Only when I dashed into my room, picked up my cell phone, and saw the caller ID, I rolled my eyes. What the fuck was Clark’s deal? I punched the screen to send the call to voicemail. He wouldn’t leave a voicemail and was incapable of sending a text message. I suspected he didn’t want to put anything in writing or a recording. Had he forgotten the divorce was official?
When I came back to the living room, Troy had pulled on his shorts and was knotting the strings at his waist. It gave me a view of his sculpted chest and the ridges of muscles surrounding his rib cage.
He was in such great shape, maybe I should suggest we work out together sometime.
What do you think you just did?
“Didn’t recognize the number?” he asked, since he knew I hadn’t taken the call.
I skewed my mouth to one side. “No, I recognized it.”
His shoulders lifted with a deep breath. “Ah. You weren’t kidding. He does call a lot.” He set his hands on his waist. “What does he want?”
“The fuck if I know,” I admitted. “I don’t answer, and he never leaves messages.”
A dark cast fell over Troy’s face. “So . . . he’s, like, harassing you?”
“No, no.” I frowned. Clark’s calls were annoying, but calling them harassment felt extreme. “It’s no big deal. He’ll give up eventually.”
Troy was skeptical. “You know you can block his number, right?”
I despised how feeble my voice sounded. “Yeah, of course.”
Yet I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it. It didn’t make sense why I couldn’t cut him off. I didn’t love Clark anymore, but I’d spent so much of my life with him, it was impossible not to care, at least a little. I kept telling myself that if it was important enough to get ahold of me, he’d leave a message or text me.
What it boiled down to was I wasn’t ready to shut him out forever.
It looked like Troy wasn’t all that satisfied with my answer but he wasn’t going to push either. He motioned toward the phone in my hand. “I left my cell in my car. What time is it?”
“Quarter to five.”
His posture went stiff. “Fuck. Really?” He didn’t wait for confirmation. Instead, he scooped up his t-shirt and jerked it on. “I was supposed to help Bill with cabinets at four. He’s going to be so pissed.” He raked a hand through his wavy brown hair and focused on me. “I should probably go.”
I nodded in understanding, but he didn’t move. He stood beside the couch, hesitating. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he strode to me, grabbed the knot of my robe, and hauled me into his hurried kiss.
“I meant it,” he said. “You call me next time you’re thinking about reaching into that drawer.”
Thankfully, he couldn’t see beneath my robe, otherwise he might have noticed the shiver he caused. I smiled provocatively. “I will.”
He grinned as he backed away, not taking his eyes off me until the final second—and then disappeared through the door.
It was late when I climbed into bed. I’d put it off all evening, unsure of how to broach the subject with Troy after what we’d done today.
Me: Are you still awake? Everything work out with Bill and the cabinets?
Troy: I’m up and yeah.
Me: That’s good. We didn’t get a chance to talk business this afternoon.
Troy: We can now. Wanna call me?
I swallowed a breath, tapped his name, and waited nervously like a schoolgirl for him to answer.
“Hey,” he said over the sound of gunfire and explosions.
“Hi.” The background noise became more bombastic. “Are you watching a movie?”
He sounded distracted. “No,