Twenty-One
21
Tex
Present Day
I stopped in the hallway, and instead of going to my room, I turned and went toward the bedroom that Salem was staying in. I’d not seen her since this morning, and the image of her with Lick had stayed with me all fucking day. This attitude she had with me pissed me off. I’d thought she didn’t like who I’d become, but, hell, she had no problem with Lick.
The door wasn’t completely closed, and I eased it open and looked inside. I knew Pepper was downstairs, playing pool with Micah. I had made a point to go see where Lick was and make sure Salem wasn’t with him.
She hadn’t noticed me, so I stood there and watched her. Sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and a book in her lap while her silky, dark locks fell in a curtain around her face, she reminded me of the girl she had been. The one I’d loved.
I cleared my throat, and her head snapped up. Those eyes of hers widened with surprise. I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest. Her body had gone tense at the sight of me.
“Your pool skills are pretty damn good. Why didn’t you join the game downstairs?”
I’d taught her how to play pool. It had been an excuse to get my arms around her and my body pressed against hers.
“I haven’t played in years. Eighteen, to be exact.”
I frowned. “You’ve not played since we were together?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
I doubted she had dated guys who went to pool halls after me. The dreams she’d had as a little girl—of a world with money, nice houses, expensive cars, and shit—was something I feared would take her away from me. The night she’d told me that she’d think about the grand life she was going to live when she grew up after her father hit her to keep from crying had stayed with me. If she cried, he would only get more violent. That face of hers—which was so damn beautiful that it still fucking hurt to look at it—had been meant for men with fancy-ass degrees and white-collar jobs. The life I could have given her would never have been enough. I was sure she knew that now though.
“I can give you a refresher course,” I told her, trying to loosen her up. Find something of the girl I had once known.
Her lips quirked, but she didn’t really smile. “That’s probably a bad idea,” she replied tightly, dropping her eyes back to the book in her lap.
Fuck! What did I have to do to fix this shit between us?
“I didn’t know about your husband,” I said, hating the way that even sounded. Her husband. “What I said in the parking lot at the gallery was shitty. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes lifted back up to look at me. “How do you know about Eamon?” she asked as if she were accusing me of something.
What did she think I had done? Gotten a fucking background check done on her?
“I said something about it in front of Pepper, and she corrected my assumption.” I dropped my hands to my sides and straightened my stance, taking another step into the room.
“Look, this shit between us—can we let it go? You act like you hate me, but”—I paused and grinned—“you once liked me.”
Salem licked her lips and made a small huffing sound. “What do you want? Us to be friends?” she asked with an incredulous look on her face. “Because it might have been eighteen years, but…” Instead of finishing her sentence, she swallowed, causing her neck to flex, and she closed her eyes briefly.
I waited, hoping she’d finish whatever it was she was going to say.
When she opened her eyes, there was a flash of fierceness that I recognized.
“You were all I had. You were my world. I was young and thought you loved me the way I did you. That makes this”—she wagged her finger between the two of us—“weird. Awkward. I don’t know. I mean, I saw your naked girlfriend walk out of your bedroom this morning, and I also got a glimpse of you completely naked.”
Fucking hell. The telltale sign of her pink cheeks told me she was embarrassed that she’d confessed that.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t do relationships.”
Salem let out a short, hard laugh. “Guess you found out young that you’re not good at them.”
The hurt in her eyes wasn’t what I’d expected. Was what had happened between us back then still painful for her? She’d been married. She’d moved on. Fallen in love again. I was the one who hadn’t loved another woman.
“Or my first love ended up being my only one.” The words came out before I could stop them.
Dammit, her husband was dead. I couldn’t keep letting the idea of him cause me to snap.
She smiled, but it didn’t meet her eyes as she shook her head. “You didn’t love me, Rome.”
I could see by her expression that she believed that. She fucking believed it.
I stalked over to her, and she stiffened, shifting back slightly while staring up at me with uncertainty. I leaned down and grabbed her chin between my thumb and forefinger. Anger, disbelief, and a world of other shit made me act without thinking.
“My head was fucked up back then. I was dealing with shit you didn’t know about, and, yeah, I made a mistake. I made several goddamn mistakes. But in eighteen years, there hasn’t been one time I’ve fucked a female and not closed my eyes and seen your face.”
I let go of her chin and watched as an array of emotions reflected in her eyes. That was something I shouldn’t have said.
I didn’t think I could handle hearing her response right now. I started for the door, getting away from her before she had me spewing more shit that should be left unsaid.
“When did you get the tattoo over your heart?” Her words were hesitant.
I stopped and gripped the door handle tightly, but didn’t look at her. “Who told you about that?” I demanded.
“I’m not telling you.”
My molars began to ache; I was clenching my teeth so fucking hard. Some fucker needed to stay out of my shit.
“Then I’m not answering you,” I replied before firmly closing the door behind me.