It's really quite good. It would go well with the champagne they served earlier.
"Why did you bolt the way you did?" Lucas asks.
I almost choke, but manage not to by taking a quick sip of water. "It was the food. It made me nauseous."
"Bullshit. We had the same thing, and I was perfectly fine."
"Maybe for you, but it wasn't for me."
"You're evading the topic."
"What makes you think I still owe you my time and mental energy after two years?"
"The accident that left my face scarred also mangled my body. Cracked ribs and a broken leg tend to lay a man flat despite his best intentions."
I tilt my head at the bitterness darkening his narrowed eye. "It didn't take you two years to recover."
"No, thank god."
My throat closes up, and I can't eat anymore. I put my fork down. "I was there."
His eyebrow arches.
"At the hospital. My roommate Erin … "
"The nursing student," he murmurs.
I'm surprised he remembers. "She was at the hospital for some class." The instructors required the students to follow doctors and nurses around to observe and learn. "She saw you come in on a stretcher and left me a message. When I got there … "
Lucas's mouth twists as he brings a glass of some kind of amber-colored liquor to his lips. "I must've looked like shit."
"Your injuries had nothing to do with my decision!" I breathe out roughly. The abject mortification of the moment floods through me, as though the meeting took place minutes ago rather than a couple of years. Not even my father's betrayal made me feel so cheap and dirty. My hands shake from the bitter memory.
Lucas pales. He's staring at me like I'm an enemy he'd like to stab with the butter knife clenched in his hand. "What does that mean?"
"Why don't you ask your brother? The really nasty one."
He lifts an eyebrow. "Brother?"
"Surprised I know about your siblings? I guess you must be, since you never introduced me to your family in the seven months we were together." And I was too stupid to wonder about that, accepting his explanation that his family lived far away and was too busy to keep in touch. "Blake," I bite out the name. I'll never forget that piece of work-how he made me feel:
He looked down his nose and spoke to me in a silky but venomous voice.
"You're Lucas's mistake, a gold digger trying to swindle money out of him when he's down and vulnerable. Better women than you have tried, sweetheart, so get the hell out of here before I ruin you. Oh, you object to my description? Should I prove how right I am then? It'd be my pleasure to dig into your past and see what kind of dirt is hiding behind that pretty face. A girl like you probably has more dirt than Mount. Everest, and I'll make sure everyone knows about it. By the time I'm through, you won't be able to suck a cock for a dollar."
"Blake." Lucas runs a hand down his face. "Fuck."
"He made me realize you and I had nothing together." Worse than nothing. Lucas had never told his family about me-I was some kind of dirty little secret.
He looks up at the cabin ceiling briefly. When he speaks, his voice is soft. "Ava, we had something good together."
I shake my head. "What we had was sex-good sex, but just sex."
"Damn it, Ava. It was more than that for me."
"Really? Then who's Faye Belbin?"
Shock flashes in his gaze. In a different situation with a different person, I might be pleased. "What, you thought I wouldn't find out?" I let out a dry laugh to disguise the sick feeling growing in my chest. "I got smarter after my meeting with your brother, so I looked you and your family up. It's amazing how informative Google can be. Turns out you aren't some college instructor like you led me to believe, and Faye's been the woman on your arm every time you attend a high society function."
"Ava, she's nothing," Lucas says, apparently recovered.
"Nothing? Really? Do you take 'nothing' to balls and premieres and expensive parties?"
His eyebrows pinch together, and he reaches for another drink. "I occasionally need someone as a date, and when we were together I didn't want to ask you to miss classes because of my social obligations."
Anger courses through my veins like acid. "Are you shitting me? You're actually trying to blame me for taking her to those events?" I clench my hands, resisting the urge to throw my water at him. "Would you have been okay if I'd taken a guy to a party because I didn't want to bother you?" I ask, even though I know he'll lie and say, Yes, I'd have been perfectly fine with it. A man like him always has a few slick words to justify what he does.