Chris stomped into a room, I assumed his bedroom. Seconds later, he returned with a plain white shirt, basketball shorts, and a plastic bag. “Bathroom is down the hall to the left.”
I nodded and went about getting into something dry. Can’t get sick.
When I returned to his living room, a mug sat on a silver tray. Chris had settled into a recliner chair, but the drink was in front of the love seat. “Chamomile tea.” He waved toward the mug. “Drink up.”
Hands shaking, I grabbed the cup and took a sip. Usually I blew before I drank, but I was desperate to feel. A splash of warmth hit my tongue, but not the sting I craved.
“Drink more. You’re shaking.”
I drank more, even though I knew it wouldn’t help. Keith’s face popped into my mind. The look of ecstasy on his face when we made love. Then my warped brain shot over to the scene with him and his office manager, going at it like animals. I couldn’t see his face, but his head was thrown back, and his moans formed a heartless symphony that looped in my mind.
“Sienna?” Chris had moved closer. He lifted his hand, and his calloused thumb wiped a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t realized I’d been crying.
A fierce expression took over his face. His lips turned up like he was ready to maim someone. His eyes were full-on golden and his body vibrated with raw power.
“You knew. That’s why you didn’t want to work for him.”
He nodded.
“Of course.” I sighed and relaxed into the butter-soft leather couch. “You wouldn’t want to be associated with a scandal.”
“No. I wouldn’t want to be associated with a dumbass.” He stared at me so hard I began to squirm.
“What?” I asked. “My hair doesn’t look that bad, does it?”
He cracked a small smile and sighed. “No. Even drowned in the rain you look . . . nice.” He cleared his throat. “You changed your hair after Keith got elected.”
I curled my fingers into my palms, an effort not to tug at my knotted hair. Keith had suggested the change, saying it was his fantasy to run his fingers through my hair. He couldn’t do it with my coiled fro.
I would not be sharing that tidbit with Chris. He already thought I was pathetic.
“That’s why I didn’t understand you.” Chris’s deep voice broke the silence. “When I caught him, he told me you and he had an understanding. That you were willing to turn a blind eye as long as he didn’t embarrass you in public.”
I jerked my head away as if I’d been slapped. How many people has he told the same lie? Tears freely slipped down my face. That was why Chris had pitied me. He thought I was one of those women who didn’t care, that I was just about the power and fame. Or that I was too stupid for words and had let Keith run over me. An iceberg settled over my heart, encasing it so solidly that I couldn’t tell if I had a heartbeat any longer. I was afraid it would never thaw.
“I’m so cold, Chris,” I whispered, shivering. “I can’t seem to get warm.”
He pulled me into his arms, surprising me. From the way his eyes had widened, he’d surprised himself. The cold eased. “Just a matter of time. Those rays of sunshine will break through.”
I shook my head.
Five years. Five whole years. I should’ve left the second time around. Should’ve been stronger. By this time, I could’ve been happy, been healed by now.
I wrapped my arms around his torso, sank into his chest, and breathed deep the menthol scent that clung to his clothes.
* * *
Rolling over to snuggle Keith, I cuddled closer to his chest and placed a quick kiss on his neck. I rubbed my hand down his hard, flat stomach. My man must’ve been hitting the gym harder these days, because his abs were like hard ripples under my fingers.
A throat clearing stilled my movements.
Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
I yanked my hand back as if I’d slammed it on a hot iron. Sitting up, I grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed the fluffy shield against my braless chest. I didn’t have much in the boob department, but a girl still had pride.
Chris had remained still. In fact, he was propped against his black leather headboard looking as cool and calm as a balmy breeze. His upper body was bare and buff. And good God, his body looked as delicious as it felt. If I hadn’t been in the throes of heartbreak, I’d have appreciated the chocolate eye candy.
“Morning, sunshine.”
“I thought I was sleeping on the couch?” I smoothed down my unruly tresses.
He shook his head. “After the day you had, you needed a good night’s sleep. In a bed.”
“Right. And why are we in bed together?”
“It’s my bed.” He scratched the stubble along his jaw, looking slightly amused.
“Ooookay. I’m going now.” I rolled out of his humongous bed. Had to be a California king, which he needed for his six-foot-four frame.
The basketball shorts he’d let me borrow nearly slipped down my waist. I pulled the drawstrings and tied a bow.
“What’s the plan?” His eyes danced. He looked amused at my fumbling.
“Plan?”
“Yes. What are you going to do? You didn’t go home last night, and Keith blew up your phone with calls and texts.”
“He did?” I asked, scanning the room. “Where’s my phone?”
He reached over to the side table and pulled my phone from the drawer.
I tried to pretend I wasn’t mesmerized by his core muscles and broad shoulders.
“I turned it off.”
My shoulders bunched. “Kind of high-handed of you.”
“He called twenty times before I turned it off. Sent you multiple messages. Messages and calls make noise. You needed to sleep.” He stretched out his arm with my phone in his hand.
I walked to his side of the bed and took the phone. “I don’t have a plan.” I shrugged. “I’ll give him back his ring and stay with my parents until I get my own place. Simple as that.”
“Do you need me to follow you home? Take your back?”
Warmth crept up my neck and flooded my cheeks. Keith made you feel warm, too.
I squared my shoulders and loaded the competent counselor’s voice in my arsenal. “Thanks, but no. He has a thing with the Atlanta Press Club this morning. Won’t be back until after two. I’ll pack my stuff in the meantime.”
“So, he gets the house? Why can’t he leave?”
“Technically, it’s his home.” His parents had given him the keys a few years ago when he turned thirty.
Chris nodded. “Your car is outside. Call me when you get settled.”
The arrogance and demand in his voice made me roll my eyes. “Okay, Christopher. I’m going to use your bathroom and then go. I’ll wash your clothes and return them.”
He gave me a small smile. “No need. Looks better on you.”
Rushing from the room, I hid the small smile on my face. A flutter of appreciation filled my chest. Was he flirting with me? I opened the door to his guest bathroom and leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection.
My eyes, droopy and sad, were tinged with pink. My normally nice stature was saggy, and my rat’s nest hair was the cherry on top of my hot mess sundae. There was no way Chris had been flirting with this wreck staring back at me. He barely liked me. Worse, he pitied me. And right now, I was pretty damned pitiful. Turning on the faucet, I splashed my face with water and scrubbed.