“Just wanted to check on you. Are you home?”
“Yes. I’m in bed with a bag of microwave popcorn, about to start that new thriller everyone’s been talking about.”
“Are you still mad?” I ask, holding my breath. She doesn’t seem mad. Then again, she did run out of her brother’s engagement party after confronting me. I’m beginning to realize I don’t understand the first thing about women.
“More like disappointed. Confused.”
“I take it there won’t be a third lesson.”
“No.” Her tone is final.
Something deep inside of me snaps, and I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or relief. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault. I don’t know why I thought we could pick up where we left off. You’re right. You’re not that guy anymore.”
A little piece of my heart breaks hearing her say those words. It’s what I wanted, what I worked toward ever since she left, but now it seems I’ve locked my heart down so completely, I’m not even capable of giving her what she needs. Even when I need the exact same thing.
“Good night, Macey. Enjoy your movie.”
“Good-bye, Reece.”
Chapter Eleven
Reece
I hit the treadmill hard, pushing myself with my arms pumping, my lungs heaving with the need for oxygen. Loud, angry music blares in my ears. I’ve been fighting with myself for three days. I’ve hardly slept, I’ve hardly eaten, and I haven’t had any desire to take a submissive back to my playroom. I’m miserable all the time, and fuck if I know what to do about it.
Pressing the Incline button, I pump my legs faster to sprint up the hill to escape the recrimination playing inside my mind. Oliver’s words from the engagement party swim in my head. Macey’s defeated tone replays over and over. Hale’s anger. Shit, even Chrissy was shooting me evil glares that night once Macey stormed out.
I hate people pointing out my weaknesses; maybe that’s the Dominant within me. Then again, maybe that’s just part of being a man. We’re supposed to be the stronger of the species. We should protect and cherish what’s ours. But Macey isn’t mine. In fact, she wants nothing to do with the man I’ve become, which is a harsh fucking wake-up call.
All this time, my goal has been to prove to myself that I can enjoy some carnal pleasures with the girl from my past who once gutted me. Yet, achieving that goal has provided me with zero pleasure. Well, that’s not entirely true. Seeing Macey naked and bound in my playroom was pretty fucking awesome. But I fucked it up. All this time, my goal has been about protecting myself. Oliver was right.
Fuck.
A real Dominant isn’t concerned with his own needs. He puts his partner’s well-being and satisfaction above his own. I never did that with Macey. I was so worried about getting hurt again, I closed myself off. She was right—I treated her like any other sub, only worse.
Hitting the red Stop button, I step off the treadmill and fight to catch my breath. I grab my hand towel and use it to mop up the damp sweat on the back of my neck. Color flashes in my vision. She’s everywhere it seems. Marked on my body for all of eternity.
Glancing down at the blood-red rose tattooed on my forearm, I know what I need to do.
I grab my phone and dial Hale. “Hey, man, I’m sorry, can we talk?” I say without taking a breath. At least he answered. It’s a start. I hope.
“Not now.” His tone is clipped.
He’s going to make me grovel, and damn, I’m all too willing to do it. “I said I’m sorry, dude. I want to talk to you about—”
“It’s Nana. She’s in the hospital. She’s been in ICU for two days . . .” His voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.
He doesn’t have to. Nana is like a second mother to him and Macey. The only family they have left in this world.
“Which hospital? I’m on my way.”
• • •
Running down the hospital corridor, I nearly plow into a parked wheelchair. Geez, take a breath. I slow myself down enough to read on the sign that the intensive care unit is on the sixth floor. Jabbing the button for the elevator repeatedly, I shift my weight from foot to foot, wondering if the stairs would be any faster.
Finally the elevator car arrives and delivers me to the sixth floor. There’s a private waiting room for family with someone in the ICU, which is a good thing, because I realize I don’t know Nana’s first or last name when I check in at the reception desk. I head down the too-quiet hallway and enter the waiting room at the end of the hall. It’s there I find Macey, alone and slumped in a plastic chair.