“Dawn and I are roommates. We work together, so we do a lot together. Shopping mostly, plus she reads too, so we talk about our book boyfriends.”
Fictional, but I don’t like it. “What else?”
“We spend a lot of time at my parents’ place. I moved back six months ago, and Dawn came with me. I’ve been gone since I left for college, so it’s nice to be able to spend time with them. I guess I’m trying to catch up on all the time we lost.”
“Sounds like you’re close to them?”
“Yeah, I missed them when I was gone. It made the decision to move back home even easier.”
“What are you leaving out?”
“Nothing really, I was just ready for a change.”
I won’t push her to tell me. Not yet. I need to learn more about her, let her see that I’m not rebounding. I’m devastated that Melissa lost her life, and heartbroken that my son will never know his mother, but I’m not rebounding from her.
“So, other than these book boyfriends you speak of, do I have any other competition?” Might as well let her know where I want this to go. I don’t like to play games. My thoughts travel to Stephanie. That entire clusterfuck was a game, one I hated and vow to never play again. I don’t care what the dare is; if those are the stakes, I’m out. Never again.
“Not anymore.”
Good. Not that it would matter, since he would have to prove to me that he was the better man before I backed away from her. She consumes me. “Care to share?”
She hesitates.
Come on, sweetheart, open up to me.
“Cal and I dated for about two years. He was great at first, nice, sweet, and attentive. You know, everything a girl wants.” She laughs humorlessly. “Until he wasn’t.”
My heart stops a few beats at her words. If he laid his hands on her, I’ll kill him. “Elaborate,” I urge, trying to keep myself calm, my tone controlled.
“He got into the wrong crowd. He was a third-year medical resident when we started dating. After he finished his residency, he changed. That wrong crowd, was a group of medical students who were using and selling prescription drugs. Anyway, he changed. The drugs changed him. I didn’t know that’s what it was at first, but when I found out, I ended it. Well, I tried to, anyway. He was mean and angry that I left him. To make matters worse, he lived in the apartment across the hall. It was like I couldn’t get away from him and his anger.”
I clench my jaw. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“No, not really. I mean, he pushed me a few times, but it was nothing. He never hit me, really.” She stops and sighs heavily into the phone. “You don’t want to hear all this. I can’t believe I’m even telling you.”
“Keep talking,” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know, Kendall. So help me, if you don’t finish telling me, my ass will be on your doorstep in however the hell long it takes me to get to you and you will tell me.”
“Ridge.” She sounds shocked.
“Kendall,” I give it right back to her.
“I don’t see how this is any of your business. I should go.”
“Let me tell you something—you are my business. I want you, Kendall. There is something between us, and I want to be able to see what it means. Anytime you’re near me, I gravitate toward you.” I take a deep breath and soften my tone. “I won’t be able to sleep until I know.”
“Once. He hit me once. That was the last time. One weekend he left to go out of town, and Dawn and I packed up and moved here. We’d been working on moving our things slowly for weeks. He’s called a few times, but I’ve avoided him. It was more of a slap, but that was the last straw for me. I knew I needed to get away before things got worse. Dawn’s not close with her family and she said she had nothing holding her there, so she moved with me. We stayed with my parents’ for a few weeks until we found a house to rent. We were lucky enough to both find jobs at the same place. We’ve just been settling in ever since.”
He fucking hit her! I focus on my breathing to keep myself calm. Red-hot rage roars through me like I’ve never felt before. “If he comes around, if he bothers you, you tell me. No exceptions, no excuses—you come to me. Got it?”
“Ridge, that’s crazy, you can’t—”
I interrupt her. “I can and I will. I need to hear you promise me, Kendall. He shows up, you come to me. You call me, fucking send a carrier pigeon, but you come to me.”
“Okay,” she says, so quiet I almost miss it. Then she yawns.
“I meant what I said, Kendall. I want to see where this goes.”
‘Ridge, I—”
“I know we need to talk. I need to tell you about Knox’s mom and I will, soon, but I want
to do it in person, not over the phone. I want to know that you can see me, see that my words are true.”
“Okay,” she says again.
“Night, sweet girl.”
She hesitates. “Sweet dreams,” she says, and then the line goes dead.
Sweet fucking dreams indeed.
Chapter 24
I didn’t see Ridge yesterday, but we texted off and on all day. He sent me a picture of Knox sleeping on his chest last night. He claimed to be exhausted as well, having not slept well the night before. I know the feeling. I kept running our conversation over in my head. I can’t believe I just spilled my guts to him about Cal, that I admitted he hit me. Dawn is the only person I’ve told. I never wanted to tell anyone else, but Ridge has such a commanding way about him that he had me singing like a damn canary.
Mom and Dad are due home tomorrow, and my original plan was to stop by the house this morning on my way to work. I’m hesitant; I want to see him, but will it be different? He said he wanted me, but what does that mean exactly? That question alone has kept me awake for the second night in a row. I climb out of bed and shower, even though I still have two hours left to sleep. It’s just not happening.
After my shower, I dress for work and make my way to the kitchen, deciding to make some homemade cinnamon rolls. I’m just finished with my third cup of coffee and cleaning up when Dawn strolls into the kitchen.
“How long until they’re done?” she asks.
I laugh. I knew as soon as the smell hit her room, she would be awake; my homemade cinnamon rolls are her weakness. It’s actually my dad’s recipe. We would make them every year for Mother’s Day and Mom’s birthday. “About five more minutes,” I say, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to her.
“Bless you.” She moans as she takes her first sip. “Why are you up so early?”
“One guess,” I tell her.
“Ridge fucking Beckett.” She giggles. “Even his name is hot as hell.”
I nod, because she’s right.
“Have you heard from him?”
“We texted last night. He sent me the cutest picture of Knox.” I grab my phone and pull up the message to show her the picture.
“So, yeah, the baby is adorable, but look at his dad.”
I blush, because yeah, I did that too. Knox is in nothing but a diaper, curled up in a ball, his little hands under his chin as he sleeps on Ridge’s bare chest. His hard arms, his ink, the tiny baby, that he has his large hand on his back, holding him close. . . .