Page 32 of Duress
Dane
Just…let me know you’re doing okay. Please?
That last message was sent this morning. I should respond. Let him know I’m fine. Tell him not to message me. Tell him to forget about me. That this won’t work between us. My fingers have a life of their own, however.
Me
Can’t do game night. Have to go have dinner with the Harringtons with Bryce. I’ll try to make it next week. Send Serena my regrets.
And by Serena, I mean you. I miss you.
Shit. I immediately regret sending that text, but before I can undo it, it shows as read, and three bouncing dots appear on the screen, letting me know Dane is responding.
Dane
There you are. I was starting to get worried I’d have to show up and spend time with my dickhead brother just to see you.
I can’t stop the smile his words brings to my face. Dane just has this way of making me feel seen and cherished. I used to get that feeling from Bryce. But it’s been so longsince he’s looked at me as anything other than a trophy. Even the glimpses I’ve gotten of the former Bryce this week have been shallow imitations of the genuine affection that radiates from Dane.
Me
No need to subject yourself to such torment. I’m fine. Promise. Just…taking things day by day.
In the backof my mind, a voice says I should tell Dane not to text me. Not to leave a digital trail, in case Bryce gets suspicious. We are playing a dangerous game, and Bryce is a suspicious man by nature. It’s his job to sniff out lies and half truths. I need his trust, his defenses lowered, if I’m going to find anything we can use against him.
Dane
Can I see you?
Dane’s request causes my stomach to flip, setting off dozens of butterflies in my belly from excitement and fear. Seeing him is dangerous. I know I won’t be able to resist him if he gets within touching distance. I’m a flawed, broken woman who can’t seem to do what’s morally right. Only what feels right. And being with Dane feels so damn right.
Shaking my head, I do my best to let my rational side steer this ship away from the iceberg of bad ideas looming ahead.
Me
We shouldn’t. It’s not a good idea. Bryce is still on edge from our fight.
There. It’s not even a lie. It really isn’t a good idea. The more we see each other, the higher our chances of getting caught are. My resolve is weak though. I know it. My body longs to be held by Dane again. To be kissed by him. To eat breakfast in bed and laugh with him. To be fucked by him. If he asks again, I don’t know if I can say no.
The sound of the garage door opening startles me from the fantasy my mind has conjured. Blowing out a heavy sigh, I swipe, closing the text thread. Nothing good will come from letting my mind wander down that path. I don’t deserve to dream of such a happy ending for myself.
I find Bryce in the kitchen, sipping from a glass of whiskey. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow revealing his tan, muscular forearms. A sight that used to cause my heart to stutter and wetness to pool between my thighs.
Now it leaves me with a viscous feeling of dread slithering through my stomach. Dreading the next time he wants to be intimate.
After having sex the day I came home, I found myself retching in the bathroom, the combined shame of how my body responded to him plus the memory of what Dane and I did… That’s the night Jake started haunting me in my dreams. I’ve kept him at arm’s length for the last few days claiming I had a migraine, but my time is running out. I saw the way he watched me this morning as I stepped out ofthe shower. If he hadn’t been running late for a court case, he would’ve bent me over the vanity right then and there. I just know it.
Bryce tilts his head, taking in my appearance, an expression surprisingly similar to concern crossing his face. “You feeling okay, babe? You look…”
“Rough?” I finish his sentence, wincing from his scrutiny. I know I look like hell. I have circles under my eyes so dark they look like bruises. My hair hangs limply on my shoulders. The lack of sleep is getting to me, and Bryce has noticed. My heart begins to pound, wondering if he can sense the guilt wafting from me. I am so enmeshed with it; it could be a visible aura surrounding me.
Bryce nods his head slowly, like he’s trying not look like an asshole for noticing. I shrug, and force a smile, trying to downplay the fact that I look like the walking dead.
“I guess that migraine and lack of sleep just did a number on me.” I duck my head and walk past him to get a glass of water. He stops me with a hand on my shoulder, and I fight to keep my body from tensing in revulsion from his touch.
“I have to go out of town this weekend for a conference. Chuck sprung this on me last minute.”
My stomach flips in excitement at the thought of him being gone for three days. It would give me so much time to thoroughly search his study and go through his computer. I’m already mentally thinking about potential passwords he might use when he gives my arm a shake, startling me. “Everly, are you listening? Do you want to?”
