Page 150 of Reckless
It’s not home.
When I near the three marble steps that lead to the massive door, I peer over my shoulder. Summer is grinning almost maniacally. Rhett is standing behind her, hands on her shoulders.
But it’s Theo who keeps me staring. Like always.
He’s leaned up against the side of the garage, arms crossed. Plain white tee stretched over his biceps. Jeans hugging his long legs in a way that makes my mouth water.
Combat boots tugged carelessly over the top.
Laces not tied.
I remember thinking once that the very last thing I needed in my life was a man who didn’t tie his laces.
It makes me laugh now, a light little chuckle that bubbles up from somewhere near my heart.
How wrong I was.
I feel like he rolled up and loosened my laces when I didn’t realize I was tied up far too tight.
“You’re gawking, Tink!” he calls out and I flush. Of course, I’m gawking. Theo Silva was the hottest man I’d ever seen back then, and he still is now.
He winks at me.
I roll my eyes.
And then I turn, march up to the door and ring the doorbell. I know Rob is home because I called the hospital and asked my favorite charge nurse to confirm. It takes him a while to get to the door because the house is obnoxiously large.
When he answers, he’s wearing a pink polo shirt and a pair of white shorts. His hair is perfectly coiffed to cover his receding hairline.
I almost recoil at the sight of him, but it’s not just physical. Rob has shown his true colors in recent months, and they’re ugly.
This man is rotten to his core.
Just like the vase of dead, musty flowers I’m holding.
“Winter.” He looks smug until his eyes trail behind me and he notes the audience.
This is a man who thrived on me being isolated, having no one. And here I am, with people who love and support me. Who show up for me even when I’m not at my best.
His grin melts away, like a pretty mask slipping from his face to reveal all the ugliness beneath.
“Hi, Rob.” I hold the flowers out to him.
He takes them before glancing down and realizing they’re decaying. A dry, curled leaf falls at his feet.
“I really enjoyed these. They were beautiful. Then I went out of town with my family for a bit. Came back and saw them like this, all moldy and rotten. Reminded me of you, so I figured I would hand-deliver them.”
“You came here to give me dead flowers?”
I smile. It’s a fake, practiced smile, one I use when a patient is pissing me off. “No, I came to deliver the envelope that’s taped to the front.” I point at the vase. “Right there.”
His face scrunches, but he doesn’t make a move to touch it.
“Summer and I put a lot of work into our affidavits, so I hope you enjoy them. I know the hospital administration and the medical board will.”
A normal person would go white. They’d be terrified. But Rob goes from red to a deep purple. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so angry.
“You wouldn’tdare.”
