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Chapter Fifteen
“Bradley,” Tricia repeated.
“Yeah, what’s the deal with him?”
Immediately her eyes softened. “He’s one of my oldest friends, the only one from when I grew up. We dated in high school and came back together as friends after we graduated.”
“Forgive me for feeling confused, but you’re here in my suite, telling me all these feelings you have for me, but you’re with him… sharing a room with him.”
Cocking an eyebrow, she smiled and nodded. “You’ve been asking around.”
“No, Bradley volunteered that about you both, you were none of my business.”
“We do share a room,” she confirmed, “but I think he omitted to tell you that it has two queen beds. We’re roommates because we always end up in one room or the other at conferences. Brad decided it made more sense to share. As I was fed up going from room to room because it wastes so much time, I agreed. Otherwise he was either sitting on his bed working or he was sitting on mine. Bradley’s great company, I love him, but I’ve never slept with him.”
“Not what he says,” I snapped, unsure about believing her, but my voice told her how I felt about them being together in any capacity.
Tricia chuckled, “Did Bradley fuck with you?” She chewed her lip and bit back a grin. When she assessed I was annoyed she shook her head and sighed. “Bradley and I were high school sweethearts, but…” the same dull look clouded her eyes, “I guess he wishes that had gone differently… sometimes I wish that too, but for different reasons.”
I considered what she told me and wondered if Bradley had sensed the connection between Tricia and me and had been trying to throw me off. If he lied about sleeping with her, was anything else he’d told me about her true? When I read the pain in her wounded stare, I believed her.
“Yeah, I guess, any truth in that stuff about Donovan the quarterback?” Tricia’s jaw dropped and she stared at me stunned, in fact she looked like I’d slapped her.
“What the fuck is he doing dragging all that up again?” She appeared shaken when I’d mentioned it and her nostrils flared angrily when she looked back at me. I knew instantly I’d hit a raw nerve. The change in her light-hearted manner to that of someone incensed was nothing short of miraculous.
“Sorry, I can see this is a sensitive—”
“It was kids being nasty—vindictive—anyway that dick is dead now. I’d say it was the best place for him, but no doubt he’s stirring up shit in hell.”
For someone usually cool, the mention of Donovan’s name showed me a very sensitive, vulnerable side to Tricia; I had doubted many people had ever seen in her life. I shot to my feet and crossed the space between us.
“Damn, I’m sorry, I obviously upset you,” I said, breaking my own rules, striding toward her and pulling her into my chest. The instant her chest hit mine, my body came to life, my nose inhaling her scent, my hands relishing in the feel of her, my heart thrumming fast next to hers. Her arms circled my waist and her head nestled against my pec.
Pushing back, she looked up at me shaking her head. “I had to say I’m sorry, had to tell you how I feel, but you need to know, I can’t give you all you want, James,” she murmured, quietly.
“What do I want?” I asked, one hand moving from her back to her head, keeping it in place.
“Kids, domesticity, cooking and baking, barefoot and naked… you know, a goddess in the kitchen, a perfect wife and mother, and a whore in bed.”
“One in three is not too shabby,” I replied and chuckled. Lifting her head, she stared up at me with a sad look in her eyes ticking back and forth over my face. My heart was pounding because I saw a slim chance to break down her walls and try to make headway with her because something inside told me she was worth it.
“Barefoot and naked sounds good and … I mean you could always learn to cook … how hard can it be?” I asked playfully, not touching the whore in bed part for fear of starting another strained conversation.
Stepping back from her, I caught her by her upper arms, dipped my head, and looked sternly into her eyes. “Tell me what you’re saying, Tricia. Why are you really here?”
“I’m here because it’s been a long time since we first met and how I feel hasn’t changed. I’m here because I think if I let this opportunity pass to know what this is, I may never get another one.” Her body slumped as she broke eye contact with me and looked over my shoulder. A pause grew between us, but my intuition told me she wasn’t done talking. I continued to stare at her and after a long moment she looked straight into my eyes. “I’m here because I don’t know where to be if it’s not with you.”
“I don’t want a relationship with someone who keeps things from me. Nor do I want a relationship with someone who thinks it’s okay to shut me out and date other guys… who sleeps in rooms with other guys, no matter how good of a friend he is.” I took a long breath, because I knew I wanted her, but however our conversation ended, I knew I needed honesty.
“I told you Bradley and I… it’s not—”
“Listen, us meeting here in Denver has thrown us both,” I cut in, I had no interest in her explaining how platonic her relationship was with Bradley. My tone was clipped, and I immediately stroked her upper arms with affection to soften my words. “Do you want to explore your feelings with me? That’s assuming I do too of course, then if this goes forward we have to do it properly this time.” Tricia’s gaze was intense, even though the crease in her brow was still there.
“This means you have to face whatever those feelings are and not push me away. If you think we can do this, great, I’m up for that…” I drew in a breath because I’d done most of the talking and I figured she needed to understand how serious I was. “First things first, if this is really what you want, you need to go pack a bag.”
“A bag?” she asked, her eyes widening cutely in surprise.
“Yeah, you’re not staying in Bradley’s room when he wants to get into your pants.”
