Irreversible Damage (Irreparable) (20 page)

“Fuck!” Tugs lips slide delicately across mine. I can see the shift in his eyes. He’s going to go through with this, and so am I. “You smell incredible.” His eyes travel over my skin as his hands slide up my arms, circling my shoulders. “You have the most beautiful skin.”

I should be stopping this, but the line is blurry. I know it’s there, but I can’t see it. Maybe I don’t want to see it. It’s doesn’t matter. I’m not stopping.

A moan escapes me as I hurriedly undo the remaining buttons on his shirt. I slide it over his shoulders and down his arms. It falls to the floor. My lips find his bare chest as I peer up at him. He grabs my face. Our eyes lock for a second before his lips crash into mine. He forces me backward until I slam up against the wall. His hand slips into my panties. I let out a whimper as he shoves them down roughly. I wiggle free from them and kick them aside. He grabs my thigh, wrapping my leg around his waist. My fingers lower to the button on his slacks. I tear it free before I lower his zipper. He shoves his pants and his boxers to the ground before lifting me up and pressing his lips to mine in a heated kiss. I wrap him up in my legs as his hands find my hips. He lowers me onto his ready cock. There is no further foreplay. I’m ready for him. He slides into me with a groan before slamming me hard into the wall. His hips thrust into me repeatedly as he fucks me. It’s raw and primal, and exactly what I need. The slow buildup heats my core and travels down my thighs as the climax overtakes me. Tug groans loudly before driving forward one last time. He erupts inside me with a growl. Just as he finishes, I feel hot tears leaving my eyes.

I’m alive.

I feel something.

Regret.

What have I done?

Tug pulls back. His eyes widen when he gets a look at my face. “Jesus, are you crying?”

I nod and suck back a sob. I’m so fucking stupid! Shame and guilt have a firm grip on my throat.

“Fuck! I knew this was a bad idea.” He sounds so angry. I hate myself. I don’t know what to do. “Goddamn it!”

Tug lifts me off him and sets me down gently. He picks up my panties from the floor before lifting me up in his arms again. I lay my head on his shoulder. He walks us into his bedroom. My body trembles. Why did I let this happen? He doesn’t speak, and my mind is too clouded to care why. This is so wrong, but it’s done. No going back. He sets me on the bed before opening a dresser drawer and pulling out a white T-shirt. 

He slips the fresh T-shirt on over my head. I feed my arms through, biting my quivering lip. “Stand up.” I do as he says, and he holds my panties out for me. I step into them. He drags them into position before kissing me on top of my head. A small sob leaves my lips. I’ve hurt him. He hasn’t said it, but he doesn’t have to. I can see it all over his face. He draws back the covers on the bed and tells me to get in. I do as he says. When my head hits the pillow, he pulls the duvet up to my shoulders and slides in next to me. He rolls to his side and nestles in close to me. His hand strokes the side of my head. He sighs like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Are you upset with me?” I’m barely able to speak.

He shakes his head unconvincingly as his eyes squeeze close. “Sleep, sweet, girl.”

I want to scream at him to talk to me about this, but I know it’s no use. Everything has changed between us. I’m afraid to close my eyes. I don’t want tomorrow to come.

When I wake the next morning, I glance around the room. The prior night’s events slam into me with force. Oh, shit! My head is pounding. I smile when I see Tug has left two Tylenols and a glass of water on the nightstand. I glance around the room and wonder where he is.

There is a light tap at the door. “Room service.”

I push the covers off to answer the door. Oh, hell. I’m in my underwear. “One minute.” I shout at the door. I scurry around the room, searching for my skirt. I finally find it hung up in the closet and slip it on. I’m not a fashion statement, but at least I’m dressed. I answer the door and smile at the older gentleman rolling a cart in. After placing everything on the dining room table, he lifts the silver covers from the plates, revealing a breakfast of Belgian waffles and fruit.

“Mr. Hunter is out for a jog. He asked that you get breakfast. He should be back in an hour. Is there anything else you need?”

I smile. “No, thank you.”

The man nods and leaves.

Smelling the food, I’m suddenly starving. I sit down in one of the chairs, staring out over the lake and devouring my food.

Once I’m done, I move to sit at the desk and open the morning paper. I try to maneuver the crossword puzzle. Sunlight pours into the room through the wall of windows. It’s no use. I slam the paper onto the table and begin tapping my pen anxiously on the edge of the wood. Before long my foot is in a race with the pen to see which one can tap the loudest. What the hell am I going to do? The inevitable awkwardness is just a short time away. I don’t want things to be weird between me and Tug. I definitely don’t want to come between him and Brady. They’ve been through enough. The thoughts in my head race around like greyhounds after a rabbit. Not that it should matter what Brady thinks. He has obviously moved on with Annabelle. He signed the annulment papers. Whoever I choose to sleep with is none of his concern.

The door opens. I turn in my chair to find Tug, shirtless and sweaty. He really is breathtakingly handsome.

“Hi,” I say, tapping the pen more aggressively.

“Good morning.” He smiles.  “I see you got breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Oh, yeah, the awkward meter is off the charts. “Tug, we need to talk.” No point in dragging this out.

He nods. “Yes, we do. I’m just going to grab a quick shower.” He starts to walk to the bathroom and stops. He turns to face me with his signature grin. “That’s a two-hundred-dollar pen you’re about to break.” He laughs, like he always does when he’s amused with himself before continuing into the bathroom.

I stop tapping and smile, my nerves fluttering away. He’s back to teasing me. I hope that means he’s not angry with me. Why can’t I feel more than a platonic kind of love for him? I want to. It’s just not possible. We proved that last night when we crossed way over the line of friendship. Didn’t we? Now I’m not sure. The sex was incredible. Tug was sweet and gentle afterward, even as I had a colossal meltdown.

He’d take care of me.

He’d always love me.

More than that, he’d always want me. He always has.

I’m terribly confused. I shouldn’t be. I know what my problem is. Tug is great, but he’s not Brady. I might have left Mexico and Brady, but I didn’t bring my heart with me. It’s being held captive. Can I move on with Tug if my heart isn’t in it? Perhaps I could grow to love him. It’s such a cliché. Tug deserves better.

“Nutty Buddy…what have I told you about talking to yourself?”

Tug scares the life out of me. I spin in the chair and chuck the two-hundred-dollar pen at him. He ducks, and it sails over his head. He laughs. I can’t help but let my eyes wander over him. He’s wearing tan slacks and a red polo shirt with the Gibson Capital logo. I hate that I’m thinking about how sexy he looks.

My eyes widen when I see him holding out two fingers. He points to his eyes, then to mine. I’m so busted. “You suck,” I tell him.

“That’s not what you said last night.”

My mouth falls open and hits the floor. I can’t believe he just said that.

“It was more like, ‘Oh, yes. God, you’re so good.’”

I can’t help but laugh. “Your ego is much too big for one person.”

He shrugs. His smile fades away. “Are we friends?”

I nod, but I’m not sure. “We are, but we still need to talk about it.”

His face turns gravely serious. He rakes his hands through his hair. This is new territory for him.  He’s used to handling difficult situations with a few jokes. “What’s there to talk about? We made a mistake. We’re still friends. It’s all good.”

I scoff. “It’s not all good. How do we know it was a mistake?”

He looks at me like I’m a foolish child. “I know.”

Seriously? How does he know? I’m not even positive. “What makes you so sure?”

He lets out a heavy sigh as he walks over to me. I look up at him anxiously. He places both hands on my shoulders and scowls down at me. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that would have happened if we were sober?”

I instantly dart my eyes to the floor. My fingers find the hem of my T-shirt. I start rolling the fabric between my shaking fingers. I know it wouldn’t have. “No,” I say, frowning.

“I didn’t think so.” He crosses the room and sits on the bed. He looks over at me. I hate how conflicted he looks. “Forget about it, okay? I don’t want this to affect our friendship.”

How do I tell him it already has? I get up from the chair. His eyes stay on me as I go to him. I drop to my knees in front of him. His body goes erect. I put my hands on his thighs and look up at him.  “Is that what you want…to be friends?”

He shakes his head slowly. “No.”

It comes out in a whisper, but it screams in my ears. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure I’m breathing. Regret strangles me. I want him in my life. I can’t lose his friendship. I’ve pushed him into wanting nothing more to do with me.

I feel like I’m going to explode. I try to keep my voice calm as I ask, “What do you want from me?”

He sighs and leans down. His warm breath slides across my face. “I want you to choose me.”

Oh, my God. This can’t be happening. I love him, but it will never work. My throat closes up. There’s not enough air. My neck is on fire. I’m going to burn up and turn to ash. The knots in my stomach pull tighter and tighter. I look at him. He’s waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what to say. I gaze at him, utterly confused. Looking at him hurts too much. I sit back on my heels and stare at the squares in the carpet. My hands tangle in my lap. Finally, I take a deep breath in and say, “I can’t.”

His hand cups the bottom of my chin and tips my head back. He smiles. It’s warmer than I expect. “I know.”

He keeps his hand under my chin. I reach up and wrap my fingers around his wrists. I move his hand to my cheek and lean into his warm palm. He yanks his hand away. It slips into his hair. He starts to say something, but stops.

“Tug…I’m so confused. I don’t want to lose you. I need your friendship.”

He nods and looks at me. “You got it.”  His smiles all wrong. It’s not real. He’s forcing it. “What now?”

I stand and sit next to him on the bed. “I have no idea. Do you think we should tell Brady?”

He groans. The muscles in his jaw tighten as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Do you want to tell Brady?”

Do I? My heartbeat accelerates thinking about it. This will devastate Brady. Even though he slept with Annabelle, it’s not the same as Tug and me. There’s too much history between us.  “I don’t know.”

His hand strokes my knee gently. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweet girl.”

If Brady finds out, his relationship with Tug will never be the same. They’ve been through so much. I can’t come between them again. “Then I say we don’t tell him. He’s moved on anyway.”

Tug looks surprised. He’s not at the house that often. Maybe he doesn’t know. “His music takes up a lot of his time, but I don’t think it compensates for losing you.”

I make a crazy sound in my throat. “No, but Annabelle obviously does.”

His eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”

I can tell by his expression that he doesn’t know. I don’t want to fill him in on all the details. “Oh, come on, Tug. Have you seen the photos of the two of them together?”

He looks irritated with me. “So she tags along with him. She’s there for Andrew.” When he pulls me close, I lay my head on his shoulder. “You should know better than to assume anything based on paparazzi photos.”

“I saw them together.” I let it out slowly. He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “That’s why I left. I walked in on them.”

Tug shifts his weight to face me. I stare at my lap. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but Brady isn’t with Annabelle. He hasn’t been with anyone.”

I’m shocked. I know what I saw. He was with her. “Maybe it was only the one night, but it happened.”

He has a look of doubt on his face. “I think you’re wrong.”

Why is he telling me this? We just had sex, and he wants me to be with him. His words don’t fit with his desires. It’s a little conflicting. I feel like I have whiplash. Then it sinks in. He wants me to choose him because I want him, too, not because I’m angry with Brady. He’d rather not have me than be second best.  My heart hurts.

I’m not wrong, though. I saw it all. Tug can deny it all he wants. I saw it in the pictures, too. They look like a couple deeply in love. I look at Tug and cross my arms over my chest. “Whatever!” Wow! I sound like a child. “He’s hasn’t made any effort to contact me, and he signed the annulment papers immediately. It’s over.”

He holds his hands up defensively. “Hey, I’m not going to argue with you.”

I realize my anger is directed at the wrong person. “Thanks, Tug.” I smile.

He smiles back. “Are we good?”

I nod.

Tug rises from the bed and picks up his keys. “Should I take you home now?”

Home? Oh, shit! My parents! My mother will be frantic. I jump up from the bed. Tug drapes his arm around me. “Relax, sweet girl.” He drops a kiss on the side of my head. “I called your mom and told her that we had wine with dinner and I thought it best to wait until morning to bring you home.”

I smile, stretch up onto my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks, Tuggy. You’re too good to me.”

He looks down, directly into my eyes. “I just want you to be happy.” His voice falters. I am happy, but also miserable. The look on his face tells me things between us are changed forever.

I dart my eyes away from his and look at my feet. Why did I let this happen?

Tug goes to the door and opens it. “Let’s get you home.”

“Tug…”

“I told you, we’re good.” He looks annoyed and walks over to the door.

I march to him. “It wasn’t a mistake.” He sighs heavily. “I mean it. Yes, maybe it wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t drinking, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want it, too. I care about you.”