He groans again, and the soft sensation of his nose nuzzling against the back of my neck sends a line of pinpricks down my spine.
I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing here. But the reason I was compelled to seek comfort in the arms of the only man who’s ever truly broken me is a glaring question mark I’m choosing to ignore for the time being.
I’m here.
That happened.
It is what it is.
My phone chimes, somewhat muted from the inside of my clutch on top of Royal’s kitchen counter.
“You wanna get that?” He pulls the covers over his eyes. “Been going off all morning.”
“Sorry.” I climb out of bed, full-glory naked, and yank the covers off him to wrap myself in a makeshift sarong.
“Hey . . .” He reaches for the covers, but it’s too late. I have them.
I glance back and capture the beautiful view behind me. God, he’s so fucking sexy. Seven years were very kind to him. He’s all muscles and tattoos and just enough hair in all the right places.
Royal flips his pillow over his face, blocking out the sunlight, and my stare lingers on his naked body a little bit longer. I’m half-tempted to run back over and pounce on him, demanding another round. We were doing some serious making up for lost time last night, and I don’t think we came anywhere near making up for a fraction of those years.
I turn to my clutch, unsnap it, and pull my phone out.
Five missed calls.
Ten minutes apart.
All from Brenda Abbott.
I can’t deny the sinking feeling that threatens my footing. Considering what went on last night and Brooks’s propensity for manipulative tactics, I’m guessing this isn’t going to be a nice phone call.
That, and she’s probably calling to yell at me for dodging out of the fundraiser. But I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t stand there and tell boldfaced lies with a smile on my face.
Sucking in a breath, I press her name on my screen and bring the phone to my ear.
She answers in the middle of the first ring.
I grip a nearby bar stool and climb up, resting my elbows on Royal’s counter. They feel like Jell-O already.
“Demetria.” Brenda’s never called me by my full name before. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
She doesn’t ask if everything’s okay, and I know immediately that’s not what this is about.
“Delilah said you were sick, but I was with you just before that, and you were completely fine. Ugh. I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life,” she whines. “You should’ve been there, speaking to the donors. I don’t think it would’ve killed you.”
In four years, Brenda’s never once lectured me or spoken down to me. I let her rant and rave, let her get it out of her system, and I sit quietly on my end of the line and take it.
“I know exactly what this is about.” Brenda’s voice turns into a snippy huff, and my heart thumps. I glance at sleeping Royal across the room, and he rolls to his side, smashing his pillow with his muscled arm. “I know all about you and your trampy ways, Demi.”
I cough, choking on my spit, and turn away from Royal. “Wh-what?”
“That’s right,” she says. “Your neighbors have told me all about the mystery beau in the black sports car who comes to your house every night.”
Fuck.
“I’ve known about it since last week, and the only reason I covered for you was for Brooks’s sake. I couldn’t have my son waking up to find that his dutiful fiancé was entertaining another man in her free time.” Brenda’s tone is hurried, impatient. She’s been harboring this, holding on to this information and waiting for just the right moment to dump it on me.
That explains a lot.
“My son, my beautiful son, was in a coma, Demi, and you were screwing around on him like some floozy.”
“Brenda, I can assure you, it was nothing like that. I know how it looks, but the truth—”
“I’m not interested in your version of the truth, Demi. I trust my source a hell of a lot more than I trust you right now. Besides, that evening I stopped over . . .” She stops, sending my stomach into a freefall. “Well, let’s just say I wasn’t born yesterday. And his car was parked in the street. Don’t think I didn’t put it all together.”
“Do you have any interest in the truth? At all? Because I’d love to let you in on some factual details before you hurl any more insults my way. I know you. You’re saying things you’re going to regret.”
Royal stirs from the bed, and I glance his way. We lock gazes, and I swat him away, mouthing that everything’s fine. He rolls his eyes, not believing me, and struts his naked ass toward the bathroom.