Page 21 of Fool Me Twice

She caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror, water droplets trickling down her flushed face. What the hell was she doing running around after him? He knew he wasn’t supposed to shower by himself; he wasn’t strong enough, but obviously he thought he knew better than the doctor. She frowned at her reflection; her face paling as all the scenarios ran through her head. He could have seriously injured himself. What if she hadn’t arrived when she did? What if he’d hit his head? An icy fear ran through her as the realisation dawned. He could have . . . died.

She shook her head and quickly did up the middle buttons of the shirt before returning to Peter.

She picked up the towel and dried his right shoulder as gently as she could, then replaced the sling and covered the area with the robe, conscious of how cold his skin felt. She did the same on the other side before sliding her arm around his back and slowly helping him to stand so the robe fully covered his rear. She lowered him back down onto the bed.

Kneeling beside him, she could feel his breath against her neck as she touched the towel to his chest. She shivered when the heady mix of citrus and sandalwood roused her senses.

“Cold?” he said.

“No,” she murmured, tilting her head until her eyes met his. Her desire reflected in his own inky depths. “Someone just walked over my grave.” She looked away, continuing to dry him before covering his chest with the robe and loosely knotting it at his waist.

Peter gasped as she lightly towelled his thigh, slowly lowering himself down against the bed as she continued the long leisurely strokes from his pubic bone to his knee. A ripple of pleasure surged through her as his eyes widened in surprise when she parted his legs and her hand casually rolled from his hipbone to his inner thigh.

There was a sharp rap on the door before Matt burst in. “You’re late—“ he said, his head whipping from left to right, and his eyes narrowing at the sight of a half-dressed Peter reclining on the bed, and Evie on her hands and knees before him. “What’s this?” he demanded, glancing at their damp hair, his eyes coming to rest on Evie’s partially buttoned shirt.

She rolled her eyes as she got to her feet, her fingers working quickly on the buttons.

“Did you two just have sex in the shower?”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” she said, running a hand through her damp hair. “Of course, we didn’t just have sex in the shower. And even if we had...” She pushed past him. “What business is it of yours?”

Chapter eleven

“What did you do to Evie this morning?” Reeva asked when she came to clear away Peter’s dinner tray. “Man, I felt so bad for her students. She really put them through it.”

“I did something stupid,” he confessed. Looking back, it had been a pretty foolish thing to do, but with hindsight, wouldn’t we all do a lot of things differently? “I took a shower by myself... and I fell.”

Reeva stared at him open-mouthed, her eyes almost as big as saucers. “No wonder she was so pissed off.”

“When isn’t she pissed off with me?” he mumbled.

“What do you expect? It was a pretty dumb thing to do,” Reeva said sharply, her head cocked to one side as she studied him. “Evie’s a fiery, passionate woman by nature, so when you piss her off, you know about it.” She chuckled. “But on the flip side, she’s super smart, fiercely loyal, and she has the biggest heart of anyone I know. And when the chips are down, there is no one else I’d rather have in my corner than Evie.”

“Maybe,” he said reluctantly, knowing what she’d said was true. It had been a stupid thing to do. He could see that now.

Reeva nodded. “Definitely.”

After collecting up the dinner tray, Reeva hovered in the doorway as if she was debating whether to say something. She turned back to look at Peter. “She’s also as stubborn as a mule and she can be a real pain in the arse sometimes... but don’t tell her I said that.” She winked. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, laughing softly to himself.

Sleep continued to elude him, no matter how hard he tried. His thoughts kept drifting back to his earlier encounter with Evie. He was sure the old Evie was still in there somewhere, beneath that tough, outer shell she hid behind; he’d glimpsed it this morning. Her panic was real, just like the concern he’d seen in her eyes.

She was still there, the fun-loving Evie who hadn’t been impressed by his celebrity or his money and had teased him relentlessly about his cushy life and how he had “people” to take care of him. He was sure of it.

A sadness washed over him with the realisation that he was responsible for the Evie she’d become. It must have been hard for her, raising a baby on her own. She hadn’t really spoken much about her family or where she’d come from, but from what he’d gathered from the odd comment or remark she’d made, money was tight and life had been hard. Having an extra mouth to feed couldn’t have been easy.

If only she’d told him about the baby. Did she think he wouldn’t have supported them, moved them to live closer to him so he could have been involved in Jaxon’s life?

But would it really have been that easy?

What about Cathy? How would she have felt knowing he had a child with another woman? A child that should have been theirs. How would she have felt every time he left the house to spend time with his son? What would have gone through her mind every time she looked at Jaxon? He’d have been the living proof of just how much she’d failed as both a wife and mother.

Leaning back against the headboard, he stared at the ceiling, wondering how he’d made such a giant cock-up of his life.

Out of them all, he’d been the good guy in the band. He’d come from a loving family, never got into trouble at school, left school with an unconditional offer from two top universities. Okay, so he’d blown them off when the band had signed with their record label, but even then, he was hardly rock and roll material.

He hadn’t done drugs, slept with groupies, gone to wild parties or smashed up hotel rooms.

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