Page 4 of The Seven Month Itch
Terrence, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, is here.
Chapter 2
Terrence
The elevator’s whine ruptures my daze. Every thought scrambles to make sense of the woman in front of me, whose stare is a stab in the gut. The woman who left and never looked back. My heart punches into my chest. The will to take the first step doesn’t register until the elevator screams.
Silence thickens the air. Guests move around the hall, oblivious to the showdown about to happen. I can’t take my eyes off her, so what do I do? Gawk like it’s the first time we met fifteen years ago.
Justice’s voice wrapped around my neck when she’d said her name in our History 100 class. It had such force it was impossible not to turn in her direction. She tucked one of her black curls behind her ear, a nervous habit, and looked down at her desk to organize her textbook and papers. She was too innocent, with too many colored pens and note cards, notto be a freshman.
Our eyes met when she glanced at me under those thick lashes after I said my name. Stares came with the territory as a starter on the Golden Eagles football team, but the way her curious brown eyes held mine did something to my heart. I’d never reacted to a woman like that.Ever. So what did I do? Followed her out of class like a lovestruck puppy in need of a belly rub.
She’s always the most beautiful woman in the room, the person who sees me forme.
Emma’s gaze bounces between us. “Oh, this trip just got better,” she says with a smirk.
Justice’s glare will burn my skin if I stare any longer. Heavy breaths rise and fall from her chest. Her chin lifts, and behind those chocolate eyes is a volatile mix of hurt and fury she tries to mask.
Even in a fit of rage, she’s gorgeous.
One of us needs to speak, so I break the ice with the first thing that comes to mind. “Since when do you wear motorcycle boots?”
Smooth. Real smooth.
Her lips twist, but her scowl stays in place. I should say more—I want to—but the words taste like wet sand caught in my throat. This is the first time I’ve seen her up close since our split. Minus her clenched jaw and her fists balled at her side, Justice looks good.Reallygood. Her chestnut skin still has its glow, and she hasn’t parted with that messy updo she does when she’s fed up with her natural hair.
I break eye contact to take a trip down the memory lane that is her body. That sweater does nothing to show off the curves I know hide underneath, though her jeans fit like a glove around the hips and ass I love to grab.Loved. Heat rushes her cheeks when my eyes drag up her form. The swipe of her tongue over her plump lips gives them extra color. Everything around us becomes a blur.
All I see isher.
Why hasn’t she said anything yet? We haven’t seen each other for seven months, andthisis what I get? Silence? Let’s try again.
“Why the hell are you here?” Stern, but it works.
If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man in this life and the next. “I’m here for the singles’ retreat with Emma,” she volleys back.
Well, that stung. My dick jerks in recognition of her voice but doesn’t register the intended blow to my ego. Justice is soft-spoken at times, but she likes to get a rise out of me. She did, just not where she thought.
Focus, T.
I brush past her and shake my head. “Best of luck with your next husband. Might want to get a divorce first.”
“You son of a—”
Got her.
It amazes me how real that transference of energy shit is. Because now, the woman who ignoredmefor almost a year is on my tail.
Let’s see how you like it.
Justice takes rushed steps to match my casual pace. She’s adorable when flustered, but I keep quiet to dodge a knee to the balls.
“You’ve got some nerve.” It’s meant to be a whisper but isn’t. “Aren’t you here for the retreat? I didn’t realize what this was until Emma told me on the flight. What’s your excuse?”
Huh.
For someone hell-bent on divorce, she seems…rattled. The pain buried in her words is a direct hit to my heart. Part of me wants to wrap her in my arms. The other part—the one still pissed she left—won’t let me do it.
