Piper.
He watched her folding her clothes…God, how much things had changed since last night. Hell, since this morning.
He had things to say to her, but he damn well would get out of this house first. He had a job to hold on to, if possible, and hashing the whole deal out in front of his boss was all but a guarantee he’d be out a job.
And here he thought they had found something. Something he was desperately trying to figure out how to hold on to. He’d finally started to acknowledge, at least to himself, why he’d gone from cheap woman to cheap woman…because none of them were her.
They’d never be her.
What a joke.
He grabbed both of their bags.
“Trevor, I’m—”
“Not now.”
“Please, just take a minute. Maybe you can talk to Davidson now.”
“And have an audience for my firing. No.” He headed for the car and figured if she wanted a ride back to the city, she’d keep up. He fought the urge to lay on the gas pedal and kick up gravel as they pulled away from the house. No one came out to try to stop them. Not a single word had been uttered to convince them to stay.
Guess that said it all.
Once on the road, he glanced at her profile. Her hand had clenched onto the door handle as she sat up straight and tense.
“You just had to make that damn call, didn’t you? You had to make it about you…thanks a lot, Piper.”
She turned in her seat and pointed a finger at him. “Listen, you boob. That call was about you. I had to find out if the Marla we just met happened to be the same one who has been trying to get in with me for months now so I could be careful.”
He took the turn at the light harder than necessary. “Well, thank you for that. Look how well being careful turned out,” he ground out.
She threw her hair over her shoulder and adjusted her seatbelt. “Hey, you’re the hotshot that wanted to earn this promotion with a lie. Don’t blame me for your lack of morals.”
He hit the steering wheel with his palm. “Oh, we’re going to turn this into a moral talk now. You act like you’re above moral failure, but you were right there alongside me going along with the lie.”
“Yes, because I owed you a favor. I was returning it.”
“That’s all it was, huh? A favor?”
“I wouldn’t have been here otherwise.”
“So, the sex last night, was that just a bonus?” He knew the minute the words fell out of his mouth that he had fucked up. Last night had been something else entirely, something slipping away from them every second they stayed locked in this argument. He’d just reduced it to services rendered and in doing so, he’d sent a barb into her chest so sharp, he’d be lucky to find any way to recover.
He glanced at her and then back at the road. Her wounded, honey eyes met his. They’d gone red and glassy at his words.
“Dammit, Piper. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t, Trevor. Whether or not you meant it, you just made me out like a whore. Don’t make it worse,” she said, her voice getting thicker with unshed tears toward the end.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. His shoulders ached from the tension both in the car and the way he kept his hands locked on the wheel. He hurt from the roots of his damn hair to the tips of his toes.
When he pulled up in front of her building, she didn’t wait for the car to roll to a full stop before she had the door open and headed for the trunk.
He met her there and popped it open. Before he could reach in and take anything, she shot her arms through the plastic handle of the shopping bags and grabbed her suitcase, hauling them all out in one hard yank.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, I guess it’s back to the dresses and stilettos, huh?” Trevor said. He didn’t know what to say. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had been making love to her, they’d been so connected, and now they might as well be strangers.
“Is there a problem with that? I mean, it’s not like you won’t head right on back to your bimbos and binges, right?” Her mouth pinched with displeasure.
He straightened his shoulders. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You have a hell of a lot of nerve criticizing my dress when you traded in your integrity for boobs and booze.”
He slammed his trunk shut and leaned against his car. If she wanted to have this out here, fine. “I do what I have to do to get the job done.”
“What a load of shit. You do what you do because you’re hiding.”
“What the hell am I hiding from? I’m right here, right in the center of life. I’m not sitting in a corner somewhere with cheap liquor in a brown bag whacking off to a Hustler magazine.”
“No, but you’ve traded in the man you used to be for this partying persona and it’s pathetic. I don’t think you’re in the center of life at all. I think you’re pretending to be, all the while the real you is still on the field at Ohio State.”
Who knew Piper had a few barbs of her own she carried around for moments like this.
“This has nothing to do with football.”
“This has everything to do with football. It’s been ten years, Trevor. It’s time to be a big boy and let it go. Instead, you go through life half-cocked, not caring…hiding who you are from the real world. It’s cowardice.”
“That’s funny coming from you, the queen of hiding. Where did that girl I knew a long time ago get off to? She came out of hiding for the weekend, but she’s about to go put on her armor again.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Really, then what would you call it? The girl that stood in front of the mirror with me, she didn’t know how beautiful she is. I imagine because the shits of the world knocked her down. But you’ll bury her now, right? Under layers of makeup, hairspray, and sexy outfits.”
“I dress for the industry I’m in.”
“You dress for approval. I remember what you went through in school, the bullying, the mean girls, the years of endless torture with words. So now you demand that approval, right? You make sure every hair is in place, your outfit is the latest and greatest style, your smile is firmly planted on your face. But guess what, Piper? There’s no one here to convince of your worth…no one other than yourself.”
“You’re a real shit, Trevor.” She hurried to her door.
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” he yelled just as she slipped inside.
He climbed in his car and slammed his fist on the dashboard.
He likely didn’t have a job come Tuesday morning.
He’d probably lose his best friend the minute Rye heard about their weekend.
He’d definitely lost Piper.
Not that he had her in the first place.
He drove to his penthouse by rote and walked through it as if seeing the space for the first time. It had served as a place to crash in between partying. He’d hired a decorator to design the space from top to bottom, wanting no more involvement than the time it took to hand over the digits on his American Express card.
He got what he paid for. A living space that looked like it belonged in a design magazine with no personality, just designed for a certain price bracket.
He poured a whiskey and stared out at the city. The slow burn of the liquor pooled in his belly. The next glass convinced him it was all for the best. He’d rather know how mismatched they were before investing a lot of time and effort. The third glass numbed the pain that mercilessly reminded him just how much of a liar he had become…especially to himself.