Beautiful Oblivion (The Maddox Brothers, #1)(50)

“You’re a little upset.”

“No. I’m really not,” I said, rolling a piece of my Marinated Steak Salad around on my plate.

“You don’t like the salad?”

“No, I do,” I said, acutely aware of my facial expressions and every movement I made. It was exhausting trying to prove I wasn’t pouting. T.J. didn’t get home until after eight thirty, and he didn’t text or call the entire time. Not even when he was on his way home.

“Want to try some of my fish?” He was within two bites of finishing his Alaskan Sea Bass, but pushed his plate forward. I shook my head. Everything smelled wonderful, but I just didn’t feel like eating, and it had nothing to do with T.J.

We were at a corner table, against the far wall of T.J.’s favorite neighborhood restaurant, Brooklyn Girl. The gray walls and simple but modern décor looked a lot like his apartment. Clean, everything in its place, and yet inviting.

T.J. sighed and sat back against his chair. “This isn’t going how I wanted at all.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “I work fifty hours a week, Camille. I just don’t have time for . . .”

“Me,” I said finishing the cringeworthy sentence for him.

“Anything. I barely see my family. I talk to you more than I do them.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“It’s looking more likely as this assignment moves forward.”

I offered a small smile. “I don’t mind that you were late. I know you work long hours. I knew I wouldn’t see you much when I got here.”

“But you came,” he said, reaching across the table for my hand.

I sat back, putting my hands in my lap. “But I can’t drop everything every time you decide you want to see me.”

His shoulders fell, but he was still smiling. For whatever reason, he was amused. “I know. And that’s fair.”

I leaned forward again to poke at my salad with the fork. “He came to the airport.”

“Trenton?”

I nodded.

T.J. was quiet for a long time, and then he finally spoke. “What’s going on with you two?”

I squirmed in my seat. “I told you. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“What kind of time together?”

I frowned. “We watch TV. We sit around and talk. We go out to eat. We work together.”

“Work together?”

“At Skin Deep.”

“You quit the Red? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t quit. Coby had some trouble paying bills. I took a second job until he got back on his feet.”

“I’m sorry. About Coby.”

I nodded, not really wanting to get too far into that subject.

“Did Trenton do that?” he asked, lowering his chin and looking at my fingers.

I nodded.

He took in a deep breath, just as he was taking in the reality of the situation. “So you mean you spend a lot of time together.”

I winced. “Yes.”

“Has he spent the night?”

I shook my head. “No. But we . . . he . . .”

T.J. nodded. “Kissed you. You mentioned that. Is he seeing anyone?”

“Just me, mostly.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “Has he been to the Red?”

“Yes. But no more than usual. Maybe even less.”

“Still taking girls home?” he said, half joking.

“No.”

“No?” he asked, surprised.

“Not at all. Not since . . .”

“He started pursuing you.” I shook my head again. T.J. looked down. “Wow.” He laughed once in disbelief. “Trenton’s in love.” He looked up at me. “With you.”

“You act surprised. You loved me once, you know.”

“I still do.”

I closed my eyes tight. “How? How could you possibly feel that way after everything I’ve just told you?”

He kept his voice low. “I know I’m not good for you right now, Camille. I can’t be there for you like you need me to be, and probably can’t for a long time. It’s hard to blame you when I know that our relationship is based on sporadic phone calls and texts.”

“But you told me that when we met. You said it would be this way, and I told you that it was okay. That I was willing to make it work.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Sticking to your word?” T.J. searched my eyes for a moment, and then sighed. He drank the last bit of his white wine, and then set the empty glass down on the side of his plate.

“Do you love him?”

I froze for a moment, feeling like a cornered animal. He’d been giving me the third degree since the server set our dinner on the table, and I was becoming emotionally exhausted. Seeing him for the first time, and then being alone with my thoughts all day . . . it was too much. I was a runner without anywhere to go. My flight didn’t leave until the next morning. Finally, I covered my face with my hands. Once I closed my eyes, the tears were pushed over my lower lids and down my cheeks.

T.J. sighed. “I’m going to say that’s a yes.”

“You know how you know you love someone? You get that feeling that doesn’t go away. I still feel that for you.”