Tryst (Take It Off #8)(32)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I heard a raised voice on the other end but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“Fine,” Gavin snapped.

More talking.

“Yes, I’ll be there.” He paused again. “I don’t know.”

He spun, spearing me with a look. Whatever had just been happening between us, those soft little moments… they were gone.

“Yeah. See you then.” He snapped the phone shut and opened the back door, tossing it inside.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“I told you I won’t talk about my life,” he snapped.

I surged up from my seat. “It was one question!” I yelled. “You’re the one who called me over here. You’re the one who pulled me into your lap. You’re the one who made me feel something.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “I told you not to feel anything.”

Oh shit, I was going to cry.

“Don’t bother coming over tonight,” I said, lifting my chin. “The door will be locked.”

I strode off the deck, racing across the sand and into my house. Salty was sitting on the floor by the door when I rushed in. I burst into tears the second the door shut.

“Stupid!” I told myself and flung across the couch, burying my head in a pillow. The sobs came even though I told them not to. Once one bubbled out, the rest followed. I lay there and cried until I ran out of tears.

I must have been pretty pathetic because Salty, the cat who hated me, jumped up beside me and started to purr.

“He told me not to feel anything, Salty,” I told the cat.

“But I didn’t listen.”

19

Talie

I spent the rest of the day inside. Not long after I peeled myself off the couch to take a shower, thick, dark clouds rolled over the ocean and lightning and thunder cracked through the sky. I watched from the window as the water turned choppy and violent, and then rain started to plunge from the sky.

The storm fit my mood exactly, and I welcomed it, glad the sun wasn’t mocking me with its brilliant, bright rays.

I knew better than this.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Blake fooled me, and I blamed him for it. But what just happened with Gavin, I blamed that on myself. He told me. He told me he wasn’t available. He told me up front all he wanted was sex. I agreed. Hell, I thought I wasn’t available either.

I guess my heart never got the memo.

“Stupid heart,” I muttered.

Maybe I was just reeling. Maybe I didn’t feel as strongly about Gavin as I suspected. Perhaps the hurt and humiliation over what Blake had done sent me on a rebound spree that ended in rejection.

Rejection wasn’t good for a woman who was just told she couldn’t fulfill her own husband’s needs.

Yes, that was it.

Instead of being in love with Gavin, I was just a stupid idiot.

Well, didn’t I feel better?

(I didn’t really feel better).

I made microwave butter-drenched popcorn and sat myself in front of the TV. Lifetime was playing a marathon of movies about scumbag men and the women who got caught in their web of deceit and treachery. It seemed symbiotic of my life so I settled in to watch. Salty even settled beside me, which at first made me extremely nervous. I mean, the cat had done nothing but practically threaten my life with his eyes of death since I got here.

But then he curled up in a little fluffy ball and closed his eyes. The softness of his fur was sort of comforting against my leg. Maybe I liked cats after all.

The storm raged on as Salty and I (okay, mostly me) ate popcorn and watched movies. A couple times, my phone rang, but I ignored it. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

I was well into my third movie about a woman who escaped from an abusive husband and cut off all her hair and was hiding in another state. The no-good husband found her and was stalking her door at her new place. He was hiding in the closet in her bedroom… Of course she came home in the dark (do people never turn on their lights?), walked into her bedroom, and took off her shirt (of course she would get attacked in her bra), and her husband chose that minute to burst out of the closet.

I screamed.

The banging on her door was just too realistic.

Except the banging continued after she ran out of the room.

Salty perked up and was staring at the stairs that led down to the door. The banging wasn’t on the TV; it was here. On my front door.

The only person it could be was Gavin, but I told him not to come. Besides, even if it was him, he would come up onto the deck. Claire? The knocking/banging continued as I slowly got up from the couch. On the way toward the stairs, I grabbed my cell. Maybe it was Claire. Or maybe Aunt Ruth was home.

I wandered down the stairs as I pressed the button to light up the screen on my phone. The knocking was still insistent. For some reason, the fact the person was so aggressive with their knocking made me extremely nervous.

My hands were clammy when I lifted the phone to call up my texts. I had several from Claire.

Talie, I need to talk to you!

Talie, answer your phone!

When you get home, I’m going to smack you!

Okay, I won’t.

Please, Talie! Pick up.

Fine. Blake figured out where you are. He’s on his way.

I jerked to a stop and stared at the white door with only a small window at the top. Blake was coming?

More insistent knocking.

“I know you’re here, Talie! Open the damn door!”

Well, shit. As if this day wasn’t peachy enough.

My cheating soon-to-be ex was here.

20

Talie

I thought about not opening the door. I didn’t have to. But that seemed a little childish. He’d driven all this way. Maybe there was something he really needed to talk about. Maybe there was an emergency of some kind.

With a sigh, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Blake was standing there with rain on his shoulders and dampening his hair. The small overhang at the front door didn’t offer much in the way of protection.

Gee, what a shame.

“About time you open the door!” he said, rushing inside the house. “I’m soaked.”

I didn’t offer to get him a towel. “Why are you here, Blake?”

He pulled off his coat and then looked at me. “What the hell did you do to your hair?”

“I cut it,” I replied defiantly, reaching up to finger the short, wavy strands.

“You can get it fixed,” he said, as if my opinion didn’t matter at all.

Had he been like this our entire marriage? Surely not. I would have noticed. Right?

“I like it,” I declared, holding my ground.