“Why do you say that?” he asks, glancing sideways.
“She insists on knowing everything about everyone, and not only did she not ask you, well … anything, she actually tried to prevent my father from probing. It was…” I shake my head “…weird.”
It’s not that I didn’t feel a little intimidated by Trick when we first met, but Rachel Hart is cutthroat; backing down from anyone is not her style.
“Yeah, that is weird.”
As I pull up along Trick’s street, he unfastens his seat belt. “Drive safe.” He brushes his knuckles across my cheek then starts to get out.
What the hell?
“Are you serious?” I can’t hide the pain in my voice.
He ducks down looking back in at me.
“Drive safe? That’s it? What the hell happened since fucking me into the middle of next week? Did I do something wrong? Is this about my family because I-I don’t understand?”
He sighs, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m just … off tonight. I’ll…” he pauses with another sigh “…I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
I want to get out and hug him into some sort of submission, but I feel this wall between us right now. And as much as I love him, I really don’t know him well enough yet to anticipate how he might react to being pushed into opening up to me. The part of Trick I don’t understand feels dark, and it scares me more than I could ever admit to him.
Pressing my lips together, I nod and he shuts the door. As I pull away, I look in my rearview mirror and see him raking his hands through his hair.
Chapter Nineteen
I think I fucked Rachel Hart … or maybe she fucked me. I don’t know because I can’t remember, but she does … she knows me … she remembers.
Chapter Twenty
Sleep evades me at every turn. I’ve brought up Trick’s number on my phone at least a half a dozen times, but my finger won’t press Send. After hours of restlessness and pent-up anxiety, I ignore the clock reading 3:30 a.m. and throw on my shorts and sports bra.
An hour later I’m drenched in sweat, and my legs feel like jelly from spinning the hell out of them. The only thing more exhausted than my legs is my mind. I’ve replayed the evening so many times trying to figure out what went wrong. Why does Trick feel off and what does that mean? It’s as if it has something to do with Rachel, but that really doesn’t make sense either. He watched her with a tense look of confusion even when she wasn’t looking at him. Maybe he was pissed that she was so insistent on dinner then completely avoided all topics of conversation that involved him.
Ugh!
I wish I could figure it out. Instead, I’m showered and ready for work two hours early. Hunger hasn’t hit, and exhaustion is lurking but not ready to overtake my incessant stream of thoughts. A quick text might ease my mind. He’ll get it when he wakes and maybe text me back so I can focus on work today without obsessing over last night.
Me: Sorry about dinner. You were right, we shouldn’t have gone. Couldn’t sleep well without you … missing you. Hope your day isn’t so “off.”
After I send it, I force down my last Green Lantern and head into work early. It’s sad that I hope some emergency comes along that will require an extra set of hands. I need to preoccupy my mind until I can see Trick again.
*
The unusually slow day in the ER drags on, but I’m off now and headed to Trick’s. He never texted me back, which is surprising since I was nice enough to send my earlier message Emoji-free. The lights are off at Rogue Seduction, so I park and head up to his place. When I reach the top floor and open the gate, I’m greeted with him in just a pair of shorts doing another funky yoga pose that brings shades of crimson to my skin. His name alone turns me on; everything else is an erotic bonus.
“Hey.” I smile as he lowers to his feet.
“Hey.” He wipes his face with a towel. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”
I stop my forward motion that’s intended to put my body in his arms—the place I’m so desperate to be right now. “Uh … well, I’m sorry. Guess I should have called.”
He gulps down a glass of water, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “So what’s up?”
I’m not the foremost expert on relationships, at least ones that mean anything, but the thick, tight knot in my stomach gives me the uneasy feeling that he’s trying to blow me off. Holy shit, is he dumping me? Trick’s not saying the words, but his actions speak volumes. He didn’t kiss me goodnight; he didn’t return my text; he’s not welcoming me with any sort of affection … He’s not making me feel welcome at all.