Page 47 of Nothing to No One

“Sway and Deacon were together years ago, before she got with Roman. After her and Roman split when he was in rehab, her and Deac found their way to each other again. Don’t know how it happened. Logan might.”

“Your other brother?”

He nodded. “Things kicked off when Roman found out they were engaged and there was drama in Hawaii. It’s a mess of crap.” As was Roman’s theme. “It’s not important.”

“Is she okay?”

“Sway Sheridan is stronger than everyone gives her credit for. The bullshit she put up with in her family far outweighs anything she probably had to endure with Roman. But I don’t know. I’m not the guy she’d tell about that. Tripp’s on it. Everybody talks to Tripp.”

The curl of his lips was proud, and maybe a little amused.

“Everybody?”

“Everybody. Why do you think we call him ‘Priest’? Anyone can confess anything to Tripp Breckenridge. He’s moretrustworthy than your priest, your doctor, your therapist, your spouse, everyone combined, and never breaks his vow.”

“Is he religious?”

“No. Far from it.” That came with another whisper of a laugh. “In a family the size of his, there’s always something going on. He listens, watches, he cares about people. When someone needs to get something off their chest, he’s there for them.”

“I’d love to meet him too. He means a lot to you. I can tell.”

“Yeah, Tripp’s put up with it from me, and then some. There aren’t a lot of outlets for the Roman stuff, the rehab, the relapse. With my brother it’s drama after drama, and Tripp always picks up the phone.”

“I can be an outlet,” she said, freeing her hand from his to slide it high on his inner thigh. “If you want me.”

Bowing, he rested his forehead on her. “Fawn, I don’t know how I got through the days without you.” Yet he bristled. “It’s not easy that you’re with him.”

“I’m not with him. And never would be. I’m doing this for you.” Didn’t he get that? “Because you asked me to do it.”

“I know I didn’t mean—the world thinks you’re together.” He straightened to meet her eye again. “I hate they don’t know the truth. For the first time, I really resent the shit out of it.”

Would there be a way to navigate this? For them to be free of Roman and maybe explore what was between them?

Would they always be private? Secret? A dirty indiscretion never to be discussed?

“I’ll be better,” he said. “More present. When you came out that door tonight, Jesus, baby… looking at you, everything else fades away. You’re everything.”

As he cupped her cheek, she relaxed her head into his palm’s embrace. “It’s important to me that you don’t forget. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“Forget what?”

“How this started. Why this started. How we found ourselves in this situation.”

The tape? No. Their predicament was nothing to do with the video, not exactly. And he didn’t need that spelled out.

“In that basement,” he murmured.

“In that basement,” she agreed and closed her eyes as his lips descended to hers again.

SEVENTEEN

CHAMPAGNE AND SMILES. Everyone was charming. In the moment. Neither the faces or conversations stuck with her.

One simple kiss in the car had become a make out session that ended with her dry riding him through his expensive slacks. Oh, she should be ashamed, but how could she be?

Right then, his hand was in hers, left hand to left hand, because his right was on her hip, holding her body against his side. They hadn’t broken contact for a moment all night.

The people were whatever, the music, whatever, the point of the night, or whatever they were talking about, nothing measured up to the gentle possession his hands betrayed.

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