Chris smiled. “I know. I’ll walk you girls out, okay?”
Starry-eyed, Paige grabbed her purse, and he escorted both of us out of the bar. Peering around his back at me, she whispered harshly, “When you mentioned Chris, you didn’t say anything about Chris-Fifth-Wheel-King.”
I shrugged my shoulders, still embarrassed by my tirade. “Sorry.”
When we reached her Suburban, she grabbed me in a hug and hissed into my ear, “How do you know him?”
I’m sure I sounded like an idiot when I answered flatly, “He was one of my cases when I worked at Fairbanks.”
She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re dating one of your former clients?”
“It’s a lonnnnggg story.” I dragged out the word so she’d know that there just wasn’t time to explain it all right then. I shook my head discreetly, widening my eyes in a secret promise to tell her later.
“Well when I call you tomorrow, you better tell me everything,” she demanded.
I nodded my head like a bobble-head doll. “I will. I promise.”
Paige gave me a quick squeeze and hopped into her car. “Talk to you later,” she called before shutting her door and driving away.
When I turned around, Chris was waiting for me by his Range Rover. He leaned against it, crossing his feet in front of him. I stomped toward him, trying to ignore the sexiness that exuded from him.
I folded my arms across my chest and cocked my hip. “You don’t get to hurt me then walk back into my life as if nothing happened and expect me to forgive you on the spot,” I snapped, glaring at him.
Chris took a step toward me, reaching out for me. “Salem, please… if you’ll just let me explain,” he pleaded, looking at me with hurt and pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuses for it, okay? I got wasted, and I fucked up.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not going to allow my tears to fall. He ripped my heart out and now he’s back, thinking he can ask for forgiveness and I’ll just forget it ever happened. No! I wouldn’t open myself to the possibility of heartache like that again. I’d been through enough. Just then, I snapped my eyes open again. “No. It’s not that easy,” I said coldly and full of disgust as I took a step back. “For all I know, you’re a walking petri dish from the Center for Disease Control.”
Chris denied my accusation, shaking his head adamantly. “I didn’t fuck her, Salem.”
“You’re lying,” I growled, stomping my foot on the ground.
Chris reached out, grasping my shoulders. He was an arm’s length apart from me, but I already felt as though he were creaking open the door of my heart and climbing in. My hurt and stubborn side quickly shoved those thoughts aside. No. He’s not getting to me.
“Salem,” he rasped, the agony of defeat lacing his voice. “Look at me.”
I didn’t. I couldn’t. I closed my eyes again, wishing I could just go back to the night before the concert where I would rip those backstage passes to shreds and toss them in the trashcan.
“Please, baby. Look at me,” he pleaded desperately, clutching my shoulders, “Open your eyes and see the truth.”
My heart was weak, and the word ‘baby’ was my kryptonite. The gentle pressure of his hands on my shoulders reminded me of the closeness I felt to him that night in my bed. I missed that. I missed him. I took a deep, staggering breath. The refreshing scent of cedar and sandalwood took me back to the night we shared our first kiss. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open, and I peered up at him in the warm glow of the street lights.
Chris’s dark irises pierced mine, and I knew he’d already won me over.
There they were—those beautiful eyes I’d been dreaming about since the morning I’d left her alone in her bed. God, I’d missed her.
I’d stood there, frozen by the fear that I had already lost her forever. I knew if I could just get her to open her eyes that she’d see the pain in mine and my strong plea for forgiveness. She’d understand me, just like she always had.
I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Salem, I swear,” I whispered, “I know I screwed up, but I didn’t screw her.”
Salem glared at me, deepening the crease in her furrowed brow. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true,” I pleaded, gripping her shoulders. “I swear.”
She cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. “So, you’re telling me you didn’t fuck some chick in the hotel room that night?”
“No, I swear, I didn’t,” I vowed. I could already see her shutting me out. Fear gripped me, and my tone became needy, desperate to make my plea. “I couldn’t go through with it. All of a sudden, I could see myself in the moment. I knew I was about to fuck things up, just like I’d always done in the past, but I’m done fucking things up, Salem. I just couldn’t hurt you like that.”