look on her face. “Deal.” She dashes for the bedroom.
Chapter 13
I know what Joshua will think when he wakes up and finds my note. Although I desperately wanted to make love last night, with him thinking I’d let Wesley into his house—well, it pissed me off. However, I understand his insecurities; I harbor a few of my own, left behind after years of dealing with a part-time father and now an unfaithful ex. I turn into my driveway just as the sun is rising. I step out of my car and face the water.
My house is across the street from a small park, so I can see the bay. Gray clouds litter the sky. Overcast days make me want to play in the snow or go skiing in Colorado. But how can I ever forget the year it snowed in Corpus? Everyone called it the South Texas Christmas Miracle of 2004. Schools and businesses shut down and everyone headed for the parks and beach. I built a snowman in my front yard. I smile, wishing for a repeat.
I go inside and plop down on the couch. My housekeeper stops in three days a week, usually while I’m at work. I smell Pine-Sol and leather cleaner. Then my cell vibrates. A text message from Joshua.
Playing games, Taylor?
I text back:
No. Need some down time.
Why?
Overwhelmed.
By me?
Yes.
I have that effect on women.
I roll my eyes.
You’re arrogant, Ivy League.
Don’t I have every reason to be?
How’s that?
Had you in my bed last night, didn’t I?
Now I’m the trophy girlfriend.
Are you my girlfriend?
My thumbs freeze.
Think carefully.
Am I ready to get seriously involved again? I know Wesley and I had a long break during the holidays, and we weren’t intimate for weeks before that. Another red flag I chose to ignore. But there’s something undeniably attractive about Joshua—beyond the physical. That’s reason enough for most women to rush into something permanent. Not me. I’ve had a half-dozen guys chasing me at once. Hot ones. Rich ones. Assholes.
Yet every time I try to forget Ivy League, he sneaks back into my thoughts and dreams.
My phone vibrates again.
I’m waiting.
Thinking.
Do I need to visit your bedroom again?
I practically giggle myself off the sofa. The night Joshua showed up uninvited and made me…I can’t believe I let him do that to me. What am I supposed to tell people who ask how we met? The arguments in his office don’t count.
I text back:
Going for a swim.
He’ll have to be satisfied with that.
An hour later, I’m swimming laps outside, burning off some calories and my frustration.
“Macey.”
I stop mid-stroke and find Wesley sitting on a lounge chair near the shallow end.
How long has he been here?
Like an idiot, I forgot to change the security code on the gate. He looks so different now. Not as hot as he used to be. In fact, either his infidelity or my anger has distorted his appeal so much, I can’t stand the sight of him.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t even bother getting out of the pool.
“We need to talk.”
I avoid looking his direction, mentally scrambling for an excuse to get away. “I have an appointment in an hour.”
He stares at his watch. “Really?”
“All right,” I say, frowning. “Want the truth—I’ll give it to you. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
He studies my face for an eternity, then stands. “I know it’s complicated, baby.”
“Don’t
baby
me.” I hate that.
Baby. Darlin’. Sweetheart.
Endearments reserved for men who are faithful. “You lost that right the minute I stepped off the plane, Wesley. Take your shitty idea of a relationship and get the fuck out of here.”
Ignoring my words, he strips off his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
He kicks off his tennis shoes and socks.
“Wesley?”
His shorts follow. Now he’s standing in his briefs, his ridiculously muscled body on full display. I head for the closest steps. But he’s in the water, blocking my exit route before I reach them. “Sometimes words aren’t enough,” he offers.
I’m in panic mode.
Chapter 13
I know what Joshua will think when he wakes up and finds my note. Although I desperately wanted to make love last night, with him thinking I’d let Wesley into his house—well, it pissed me off. However, I understand his insecurities; I harbor a few of my own, left behind after years of dealing with a part-time father and now an unfaithful ex. I turn into my driveway just as the sun is rising. I step out of my car and face the water.
My house is across the street from a small park, so I can see the bay. Gray clouds litter the sky. Overcast days make me want to play in the snow or go skiing in Colorado. But how can I ever forget the year it snowed in Corpus? Everyone called it the South Texas Christmas Miracle of 2004. Schools and businesses shut down and everyone headed for the parks and beach. I built a snowman in my front yard. I smile, wishing for a repeat.
I go inside and plop down on the couch. My housekeeper stops in three days a week, usually while I’m at work. I smell Pine-Sol and leather cleaner. Then my cell vibrates. A text message from Joshua.
Playing games, Taylor?
I text back:
No. Need some down time.
Why?
Overwhelmed.
By me?
Yes.
I have that effect on women.
I roll my eyes.
You’re arrogant, Ivy League.
Don’t I have every reason to be?
How’s that?
Had you in my bed last night, didn’t I?
Now I’m the trophy girlfriend.
Are you my girlfriend?
My thumbs freeze.
Think carefully.
Am I ready to get seriously involved again? I know Wesley and I had a long break during the holidays, and we weren’t intimate for weeks before that. Another red flag I chose to ignore. But there’s something undeniably attractive about Joshua—beyond the physical. That’s reason enough for most women to rush into something permanent. Not me. I’ve had a half-dozen guys chasing me at once. Hot ones. Rich ones. Assholes.
Yet every time I try to forget Ivy League, he sneaks back into my thoughts and dreams.
My phone vibrates again.
I’m waiting.
Thinking.
Do I need to visit your bedroom again?
I practically giggle myself off the sofa. The night Joshua showed up uninvited and made me…I can’t believe I let him do that to me. What am I supposed to tell people who ask how we met? The arguments in his office don’t count.
I text back:
Going for a swim.
He’ll have to be satisfied with that.
An hour later, I’m swimming laps outside, burning off some calories and my frustration.
“Macey.”
I stop mid-stroke and find Wesley sitting on a lounge chair near the shallow end.
How long has he been here?
Like an idiot, I forgot to change the security code on the gate. He looks so different now. Not as hot as he used to be. In fact, either his infidelity or my anger has distorted his appeal so much, I can’t stand the sight of him.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t even bother getting out of the pool.
“We need to talk.”
I avoid looking his direction, mentally scrambling for an excuse to get away. “I have an appointment in an hour.”
He stares at his watch. “Really?”
“All right,” I say, frowning. “Want the truth—I’ll give it to you. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
He studies my face for an eternity, then stands. “I know it’s complicated, baby.”
“Don’t
baby
me.” I hate that.
Baby. Darlin’. Sweetheart.
Endearments reserved for men who are faithful. “You lost that right the minute I stepped off the plane, Wesley. Take your shitty idea of a relationship and get the fuck out of here.”
Ignoring my words, he strips off his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
He kicks off his tennis shoes and socks.
“Wesley?”
His shorts follow. Now he’s standing in his briefs, his ridiculously muscled body on full display. I head for the closest steps. But he’s in the water, blocking my exit route before I reach them. “Sometimes words aren’t enough,” he offers.
I’m in panic mode.
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