Page 7 of Play Dirty

Now I’m focused on survival, slowly but surely making my way back to being one of the top models in the world and starting a new life here in Los Angeles. With both old and new friends, a completely different lifestyle, and a whole lot of therapy.

“I’ve stolen a bottle of champagne with our names on it. Interested?” The low, gruff voice in my ear makes me break out in goose bumps and I nod without even turning around.

“Absolutely.” I take Marty’s arm and move against him. “You are the best. It’s like you read my mind.”

“I try.”

We step out of the line and head for one of the balconies of the hotel.

The sun has just set so it’s not quite dark out, a tiny sliver of orange gracing the horizon, and I stare at the landscape of Los Angeles spread out before us.

“My favorite time of day,” I whisper.

“Mine too.” Marty sounds a little surprised.

“It’s the end of the day, so to speak, but not quite nighttime. And nighttime is my least favorite part of any day.” I don’t know why I told him that, because it feels incredibly personal, but it slipped out. Marty is easy to talk to even though we haven’t seen each other since Henrik and Autumn’s wedding.

“Why?” he asks curiously.

I shrug. “The nightmares that are inevitable.”

“Still?” His voice is soft.

“Still. We’re working on it in therapy but…well, everything else is going okay except that. They’re not every night anymore, usually every two or three nights, but it makes it hard to sleep when I know they’re coming. She says it will pass, that this kind of thing takes time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” I glance at him. “Did you bring glasses?”

He grimaces. “I wasn’t supposed to take anything from the champagne fountain and one of the attendants started yelling, so I grabbed the bottle andoneglass before she chased me out of the room.” He pulls a single champagne flute out of his pocket. “Glass for you, bottle for me?”

I chuckle. I don’t know why that strikes me as funny, but it does.

“Perfect.” I watch as he fills the glass and holds it out.

Then he takes a long pull from the bottle.

It’s a little uncouth at an event like this, but I like it.

I likehim.

There’s something rough around the edges about him that turns me on but also something about him that makes me feel safe.

I’m not in the market, but if I were, I’d climb him like a tree.

Of course, I haven’t had sex in a long time.

Not since the accident.

Notan accident.

I have to keep reminding myself of that.

What Damien did to me was intentional. There was nothing accidental about it. Even though I refer to it as an accident whenever it comes up. That might be part of why I’m struggling to get past everything that happened.

“Where did you go just now?” Marty asks, his dark eyes finding mine.

“I… it doesn’t matter.” I drink deeply from my champagne flute, hoping the alcohol will give me enough of a buzz to stop thinking so much.

---