“But I know.”
“Yeah, still…” Blake shrugged. “You’re playing a game of what-ifs. What if you hadn’t been speeding? What if you hadn’t been there?”
Tension tightened Dane’s jaw until his teeth hurt. “They’re valid questions. If I hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have been injured.”
“But see, you don’t know that. She could’ve slipped and fallen on an icy sidewalk and hurt herself the day before the big competition. A green Maserati could have come through at the next light and killed her. Besides, instead of focusing on what you could’ve done, what if her cab driver hadn’t been speeding? What if he’d been more careful? Taken a different route?” Blake shrugged again. “On top of everything else, there’s no guarantee that she would’ve won the Olympics anyway.”
Dane shook his head. “Don’t twist things for my convenience.”
“I’m just saying.” They lay there for a few moments, listening to the night. “You can push her away,” Blake finally said, “but that’ll have consequences.”
No kidding. The hurt and devastation had shattered the blissful glow in her eyes when he’d walked out on her. He’d crushed a lot of people’s hopes before without batting an eye—in his line of work, it was a weekly occurrence. But with Sophia, he felt like pond scum.
“If you want her and she wants you, don’t be a martyr. It doesn’t suit you. Make her happy if you really want to atone for Paris.”
“A self-serving rationalization,” Dane said, even as selfish hope stirred in his heart.
“No, it’s a practical suggestion. The past can’t be changed, but you can decide what you want for the future. But here you are, trying to ruin it over something that happened seven years ago. That isn’t like you. It’s sentimental…ridiculous, even. Serves no purpose.” Blake plopped down on his back, staring at the sky. “Just think for a while, and you’ll see that I’m right.” He shot Dane a cocky grin. “As usual.”
Dane swished the bottle. There was hardly any left. “Let’s go back in and raid the bar. The seniors are off to bed.”
The last thing he wanted to do was stay sober and think about what Blake had said about making Sophia happy to atone for the past.
* * *
Sophia went to her room, the ruined panties balled up in her hand. The stickiness between her legs had gone cold, and she grimaced the whole way. The recent orgasms still echoed through her body, but her heart felt like a rock in her chest.
The mistress’s room had its own entrance. Maybe a couple having separate rooms was an old money thing. Her parents had shared a bed even when they’d disagreed over something. They’d rarely fought. Expending that much energy over each other had been regarded as pointless.
She tossed the underwear in a dark plastic bag to be thrown out when she returned to the city.
“So you made it back.”
Yelping, she turned around. The doors to the bathroom were open on both ends, and Salazar sat at the edge of his bed with a bottle of scotch. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, and his hair lay messy, like he’d run his hand through it a few times.
“Why are you still up?” She forced a smile, hoping he hadn’t seen what she’d been putting away. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”
“Ah, doesn’t matter. Can’t ever get to sleep before midnight anyway. Just the way I’m wired.” Salazar lifted the bottle. “Want some?”
The gesture reminded her of how Dane had been in Mexico, sending a sharp pang through her heart. “Maybe just a sip,” she said, coming over.
He poured her a full glass, almost to the rim. She sat next to him and sipped the drink, careful not to choke on the fiery liquid.
“It’s good you missed the rest of the dinner,” he said. “It was awful. Dane the Killjoy. And my sister… Jesus. She just won’t shut up about anything.” He took a long swallow straight from the bottle. “But nobody can make her keep her mouth closed since Geraldine’s everyone’s favorite. Not even Dane stops her because apparently my mother told him to be nice to her. Can you believe that? My own son ignores me, but not my shrilly old bat of a mother.”
She ignored the insult. Salazar wasn’t sober. “He must’ve liked her.”
“They were a lot alike. Cold. Disapproving. Always thought everyone else was a disappointment.” He sniffed. “It’s no wonder Dane decided to send that girl Ginger to drag Shane back home from Thailand. Apparently he didn’t trust us to do it.” He snorted a laugh.