I nodded against him. "Weston helped calm me down."
"Thanks, King. Much appreciated." He didn’t let me go as he extended his gratitude to his friend.
"It was no trouble, really," Weston said behind me.
I felt something transfer between them. Something that maybe only men understood—only men who were good friends. But because I couldn't see either of their faces from my position, I couldn't even see what it was to know.
I pulled out of Donovan's arms, uncomfortable with the feeling that I was being left out of the conversation. My eyes darted from one man to the other, but I was unable to read either of them.
"Congratulations are in order, I suppose," Donovan said, changing the subject. He took my hand in his.
Weston nodded his chin at me. "I hear the same should be given to you."
Donovan didn't say thank you, but for that matter neither had Weston.
They held each other's gaze for several seconds that might've been tense or might have just been seconds passing. I didn't really read men very well. I'd never been good at it, and I wasn't suddenly good at it now simply because I was dating Donovan.
Finally, Weston said, "So Cade already left? That motherfucker didn't even wait to see me.”
And the mood shifted.
Donovan shrugged with one shoulder as if to say you know him. "He's staying in the States a while. He might still be here when you get back from your honeymoon. I still can't believe you're actually going on one of those."
“Gotta make it look real." Weston waggled his brows, indicating the real reason he was looking forward to a honeymoon, despite the sham marriage between him and his bride. "Do me a favor and keep him out of my office. Last time he was here my signed copy of Sandman went missing."
I wasn't sure if that was directed to Donovan, or to me since I was the one covering Weston's job for the most part while he was out of the office.
Before either of us could respond, others were gathering around us to wish the newlyweds congratulations. Frank and Roxie, Tom and Daisy. Some of the guys from the marketing team. Soon there was joking and laughter and small talk that didn’t require my full attention.
I was glad to let others handle the conversation. It hadn't been Theodore, and I should have recovered by now, but I still felt topsy-turvy. My stomach was still in knots. It was ridiculous.
Even though it wasn't Theodore, it wasn't just that I'd seen a man who looked like him that had been the reason for my turmoil. I hadn't been thrown into such fright simply because my memory had been jogged. I lived with those memories all the time. They were always in the corners of my mind. They haunted my dreams on a regular basis. It was almost a comfortable companion—the dreadful horror of those memories.
What threw me today—what had me still so worked up—was knowing how few degrees of separation there were between me and Theodore right now. If he were released from jail—when he was released from jail—his little brother would still be friends with a woman who was currently married to one of my bosses. To a man I was close to.
The chances were good that Weston and Elizabeth would be over in a matter of weeks; and that there would never be an occasion when I would even be in a room with Clarence again.
But what if I was? What if Weston and Elizabeth stayed together by some miracle, and a few years down the line, at a holiday party or a charity event or the launch of a new business venture, I turned unexpectedly and that time it wasn't Clarence?
It was a lot of what-if's, and I'd learned not to live on what-if's. But tonight the what-ifs were an infestation taking over the most vulnerable parts of me, wearing me down to just smiles and nods.
I lost track of how long I'd been disengaged from my companions when I felt Donovan's hand settle heavy on my hip.
"Come with me," he said with no further explanation.
Without giving excuses to the others, we slipped away through the open doors of the ballroom, out toward the restrooms in the lounge. I wondered for a moment, if we were leaving altogether, but he passed the coatroom and the stairs, and led me to a room across the lobby.
The door was slightly ajar, and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he pushed it open and pulled me inside. He shut the door behind us and when he turned on the light I saw we were in what looked like an apartment of some sort, a series of rooms with a kitchen and dining room and living area.
"What is this place?" I asked, pretty sure we weren't supposed to be here, whatever it was.
Donovan unbuttoned the jacket of his tuxedo. "It's another event space, this one designed to look like a residence. The wedding party rented it as well. They used it earlier for the family breakfast and then later for last-minute prenuptial paperwork and photographs. No one is using it now though, and I for one, could use a break from all that chatter."
In my distress I’d forgotten that he'd been tense since returning from his chat with Cade. I wasn't going to pry. He would tell me if and when he was ready, and hopefully I would have my own shit together by then so I could be there for him when he did.
Meanwhile, a break from the chatter sounded like exactly what I needed.
I made my way to the closest couch and slumped down in the center seat. Donovan wandered around the room, checking out the décor. I watched as he fingered the heavy curtain sash, then as he crossed to the Christmas tree, decorated with large red and gold bows.
I closed my eyes and leaned back, opening them only when I felt the sofa cushion depress next to me a few minutes later.
"Give me your foot," he said, loosening his bowtie.
Without question I put one strappy heel in his lap. He unbuckled the sandal and removed it, then motioned for me to give him the other so he could repeat the gesture with my other foot.
"Do you need anything? A drink? Some water? Something to eat? Need to use the restroom?"
I rubbed at the inside corners of my eyes, thinking I could probably use a mirror but not having the energy to go look. "I'm good. You're being very hospitable." Maybe that hospitality would extend to a foot rub if I played my cards right.
"I am. Because if you don't need anything else, I'm going to make sure you remember your safe word. And then you're going to make me believe you don’t want me to touch you when I do."
For the second time that night, I had a rush of endorphins. My heart sped up double time. My hands began to sweat. This time though, my blood was hot and the catch in my breath was excitement.
We'd played this game before. I liked this game. I was good at this game.
I bolted up to my feet, but Donovan was fast and he pulled me straight back down, hard, drawing me closer to him than I had been. I tensed my shoulders and slammed my thighs together tight. It wasn't hard to pretend I didn't want him. Not only did I have real experience with sexual assault, but I also practiced on a regular basis turning my fears of men into fantasies. How many times had I turned nightmares of Theodore into erotic indulgences, my head filled with thoughts of Donovan as I rubbed myself to climax?
As I said, I was good at this game.
Donovan moved his mouth to my face and licked along my cheek, which was somehow the perfect blend of smarmy and hot. It sent shivers down my back. With one arm keeping me tight against him, he pushed his other hand up the skirt of my dress, demanding access. I clamped my legs even tighter.