“It’s James and you know it,” I snap. “Plus, you might not hate me, but you absolutely don’t like me.”
“My dick says otherwise,” he mutters, and I get the feeling it wasn’t a sentiment meant for my ears.
Which is too damn bad because at this point the gloves are off, and I’m not about to let it go.
“That’s what this is about?” I screech, immediately regretting my choice when I see Zach stir on the monitor.
Five painfully slow seconds pass, and I watch to make sure he isn’t about to wake up and choose violence. When I’m sure he’s still asleep, I lower my voice and whisper yell into the phone. “You want me to come to Telluride for a freaking booty call?”
“No,” he whispers back. “I want you to—Fuck, why are we whispering?”
I roll my eyes. “My son is asleep, and I don’t want to wake him.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I fucked up.
Even more so when Luca’s voice perks up. “You have a son?”
Damn it. This isn’t how I meant for him to find out. Not that I had a plan. Hell, I barely decided today that I might consider telling him. And that’s only because Willow made some good points about Zach deserving to know his dad, and I have a guilty conscience.
“Leigh,” he presses with privileged impatience.
I huff in frustration and force a professional, per-my-last-email tone. “Yes. Which is why I can’t come to Telluride just because your dick likes me.”
Okay, so maybe professional went out the window a long time ago.
Luca lets out a long breath, mumbling a curse as he does, and I imagine him rolling his eyes, trying to find some semblance of order to this conversation.
Welcome to the club, buddy.
I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to be a total clusterfuck.I’m also realizing it’s far too easy for my mind to fill in the blanks of what he looks like on the other end of this phone, and I don’t think I like what that implies.
“That came out wrong.”
I tilt my head for no one’s benefit but my own. “Ya think?”
“Listen, I want you to come to Telluride so we can get everything set up for Monarch Hearts. My friends and I rented a place and there’s plenty of room. I’ve been hoping to see you. We can get Monarch Hearts all dialed in…” His voice trails off like there’s more he wants to say.
When he doesn’t, I offer him a resounding, “This is a bad idea.”
For so many reasons. Primarily because I don’t trust him, but I also don’t think I can trust myself around him.
And what does he mean by he’s been hoping to see me?
No. I stop myself from going down that rabbit hole.
Professional is best. We can meet in his office. At the stadium. Anywhere that isn’t a vacation home in the mountains. With snow. Real snow. Not the stuff we get here in New York City that covers the spaces between buildings. Snow like back in Michigan that sweeps across fields and mountains, sticking to every towering tree.
I never thought I’d be homesick for a place that ruined so much of my life.
“Leigh, I also wanted to apologize for...” He stops himself, searching for words, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for him to finish. “...for what happened back home.”
My jaw drops. You could tell me pigs were flying outside my window, and I’d believe you sooner than I’d believe the words coming out of this man's mouth.
I sit up a little straighter on my stool, anger coursing through me to the point my body feels like it’s vibrating. “Donatis don’t apologize.”
Those were the words he told me ten years ago when I was nothing but a scared fifteen-year-old, trying to get her life back to normal.
“Please, Leigh.” Desperation, like a prayer, laces his tone, and I loathe the way it pulls at my heartstrings.
