Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
SALVATORE
With my arms folded over my chest, I watch the team training camp from the comfort of my office, and I’m proud to say they look strong.
What I’m not proud to say is the fact that I’m currently hiding in my office.
Keeley wasn’t in yesterday. I had a feeling she’d be MIA before I even looked for her car. It was the sneaking out of my apartment that clued me in.
I’d lain awake all night after getting her settled, not moving from the spare bedroom in case I woke her, my mind swirling with questions for the morning.
Should I make her breakfast? Do I need to research a hangover cure?
Or leave a towel and some clothes in the en suite so she can freshen up before leaving my room?
My room. That’s another thought that kept me awake. Keeley slept in my bed. And she looked damn good in it too with one hand tucked under her cheek while the other lay flat on my side, exactly where my chest would usually be.
God, it was hard to look away. Until I remembered it was highly inappropriate to be staring at someone while they slept. Especially when I’d already rejected that someone four times within the past year.
Keeley had every right to wake up and punch me. Or worse, cut me from her life.
Instead, I wasted all of my worrying because she snuck out as soon as she woke up. At least, she tried to sneak out. I’m guessing she didn’t think I was home considering how loud she shut the front door.
Now I’m here, trying to prepare myself for every possible reaction when I see her again.
Is she going to be embarrassed? She shouldn’t be. She didn’t do anything to be embarrassed about.
Is she going to be mad? I wouldn’t blame her if she was. Hence, the reason I was planning breakfast.
Those two options were fairly easy to prepare for. It’s indifference I’m most worried about.
Is she going to walk in here like nothing happened, leaving us to continue on with this weird relationship we have? With both of us pretending there isn’t a strange energy floating between us.
Sure, that sounds easier than having to talk it out. But we’re adults. It’s about time we grew the fuck up and got it all off our chests.
Someone knocks on my door and I freeze, wondering if I’m going to have to face that conversation right now, until Paige pokes her head in.
“Hey, Dad. Have you got a minute?”
“Of course. Come in. What’s up?”
“I wanted to drop this off.” She closes the door and hands me a drawing from Isaac, warming my heart.
“He made this for me?”
“He sure did.”
“I love it. I’m going to put it up somewhere in the office. Thanks, Paige.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles cheerily and I can sense more.
“You know I always love seeing you, but when do you ever visit just to drop off some of Isaac’s artwork? Is there something else?”
“Yeah, so… question. Are you aware that you’re famous?”
“What? No, I’m not.” I shake off her crazy idea. Paige can have her fame and I’m proud of everything she’s done, but I’m more than happy to stay out of the headlines, unless it’s in relation to my business or the Storm…and it’s positive.
Paige bites back a smile and I frown. “You’re not?”
“No. What is this about?”
She pulls her phone from her bag and I panic.
The book? God, don’t tell me more came out from that fucking book.
I almost wish there had been something in there about me personally so I could sue his ass too.
It’s much easier to sue as an individually named person than as a team, when he was smart enough not to get too specific.
It’s just enough to bring us back into the negative spotlight but not enough to get him in trouble.
If only he’d thought about that when mentioning the other team.
Paige spins her phone to face me, and I hold my breath, ready to unleash my rage. Until I see the image.
Fuuuck. Who the hell cares about photos of me?
“Okay.” I play it straight, pretending I’m not fazed that she’s holding an image of me outside The Satin Rose, after she told me she was there Saturday night. “That doesn’t really make me famous.”
“It means you’re sellable.”
“Yay for me.”
Paige laughs before her smile turns mischievous. “I didn’t know you’d been to The Satin Rose.”
“I haven’t. You can see my car in the image. I’d just parked there.”
“Oh, okay. Either way, I thought you should know that people are interested in your life.”
“What people?”
“I don’t know. Storm fans. Women who find workaholics attractive.”
“Very funny. Thank you for the heads-up. Is that all you came for?”
“No, actually. I also came to talk to Keeley. Did you know she spent the night in our building on Saturday?”
“What?” I choke on nothing, and Paige laughs so loudly that I double-check she closed my office door.
“Okay. Fine. I was worried about her because she messaged me drunk. She passed out in my car without telling me where she was staying, so I let her stay at my place. I slept in the spare room. That’s all it was.”
“What?” Paige’s jaw drops, but she fails to hide the sparkle in her eyes. “Easton told me she’d stayed at her mom’s.”
“Stop lying. You didn’t believe that.”
“You’re right.” She smiles. “I didn’t. But I do believe your story. Such a gentleman.”
I’m really fucking not. Just because I didn’t touch her, doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.
“Thanks, Kiddo. Can you do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe don’t bring it up to Keels?”
“I wasn’t going to.”
I huff out a laugh, but I should have guessed. She just wanted me to spill the details. Fucking gossip magazines.
A thought hits me and I panic. “Were the photos just me?”
“Yep. The photographer must have left by the time you came back out with Keeley.”
“Oh, good.”
Paige’s previously happy expression morphs as she eyes me curiously, her lips parted as she furrows her brow. “Is there more to this friendship? More to you and Keeley?”
“No. I care about her a lot. But we’re just friends.”
Paige nods, and while I’m not technically lying at this point in time, the words taste bitter in my mouth, as though I’ve never been so dishonest in my life.
My stomach swirls with discomfort.
I’m not sure how long that line will remain true, and I’m terrified of what that will change.
After continuing to hide out for most of the day, apart from my two meetings, I pour myself a glass of whiskey the second the clock ticks over to five, and give myself a pep talk.
The longer we leave this, the harder it will be. It’s just a talk.
I’ve had much tougher conversations in the past. I can do this.
Sort of.
Because I’m a chickenshit, I buzz Tabitha and ask her to arrange a meeting with Keeley for seven p.m., knowing she’ll still be here, then dismiss Tabitha for the night.
When seven hits, Keeley waltzes through my door, her lips curled into a radiant grin, and my shoulders fall in relief.
“You came.”
“You asked. You’re the boss; what was I supposed to do?”
“Tell me to fuck off,” I say seriously. I deserve it.
Keeley beams in amusement, and while I smile back at her, her reaction concerns me a little. This is what I was worried about—the calm.
She should be pissed off at me. I once again hit her with all the mixed messages. I rushed to her side to pick her up, embracing her in the process, then refused to sleep next to her when she asked.
Having her in my space confirmed something I’ve been fighting for a while.
I want her.
More than I want anything else in my life right now.
And it sucks doing the right fucking thing.
Turning her down Saturday night was one of the hardest, and easiest, things I’ve ever had to do.
Hard because she was staring up at me with her dazzling blue eyes boring into mine, her vulnerabilities on full display as she begged me to stay.
Easy because I would never take advantage of someone not of sound mind, and Keeley was more intoxicated than she was letting on.
If she’d been sober, she never would have asked me to stay like it was killing her if I didn’t. She would have sassed me. Told me the ball was in my court. Flirted.
And I have no doubt I would have given in.
If she hadn’t been drunk, I’m not sure I could have walked away.
But she was.
“Why would I tell you to fuck off?” She walks over to my couch and sits down like she always does, and my eyes follow her as I respond.
“For the other night.”
“For taking care of me?”
“No, you should be thanking me for that. Why didn’t you go home with the girls and—” Fuck. I sound like her father. “Ignore that. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”
“You never got to do this with Paige, did you? Never picked her up drunk from a party?”
“Can you please not compare our situation with my situation with Paige?”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s my daughter, Keeley, and you’re…” I trail off because I’m not sure where I was going with that.
“I’m what?” She bounces her eyebrows and I huff out a laugh.
“A brat. That’s what you are.” Keeley snorts before standing again and walking closer to my desk, making me take a few steps back, moving under the guise that I need another drink.
“I’ve been called worse things.” She shrugs and my chest tightens.
“From whom? What?”
“It doesn’t matter. Why am I here?”
“Keels?”
“Come on. I have places to be.”
“Right. Okay.” The tightness in my chest morphs into a burn, and I ignore the fact that it could be considered jealousy.
“I thought we should talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yes. About the other night.”
“What do we need to talk about? I got drunk at a burlesque club, and my friend took me home to sleep it off.”
“How much do you remember?”
“Most of it.”
“Okay, well, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For letting you believe it was leading somewhere it wasn’t.”
“What?” Keeley laughs through her response. “I never once believed that. I know you, Sal. And I know the kind of man you are. I never for a second thought you’d take me home and have your way with me. I merely hoped for it.” She grins and I bite back a groan. She’s not going to make this easy.
“Do you remember us dancing?”
Keeley frowns, her face contorting before she laughs. “We didn’t dance.”
“We did. We were on our way out when they announced the last song from the burlesque dancers. It was slow and…” Really fucking sultry.
Not that I need to paint that picture for her.
“You asked me to dance. Actually, no. You didn’t ask.
You told me we were dancing and dragged me to the edge of the dance floor.
You wrapped my arms around your waist and settled yours on my shoulders, leaving a space between us until I pulled you close. ”
The more I say, the more I relive the moment, the fire it ignited when I touched her skin where her dress dipped low at the back.
We danced for the entire song, never once breaking our stare while my heart slammed in my chest. Just like it’s doing now.
“You smelled delicious,” Keeley whispers, and my eyes widen as she glances away, lost in thought.
“You remember that?”
“Yes. Flashes of it are coming back.”
“There’s not much more to say. When the song ended, everyone cheered and you told me you were ready to go. For real this time.”
“And the next thing I remember, I was waking up in front of the valet of your building.”
“That’s right.”
“And you wouldn’t sleep next to me.”
My shoulders drop. Of course she’d remember that part. “I thought, given the circumstances, it was best if we stayed in separate rooms.”
“And now?”
“Now?”
“Yes. What’s best now?” Her ocean eyes bore into mine as she stands confidently, forcing me to admit what I’d do if the circumstances were different. Only I don’t want to answer.
Because I have no fucking idea where it will lead.