Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(76)

And here I’d thought nothing he said could surprise me anymore.

I could feel a tirade bubbling up to the surface, but I bit it back. What was the point? Marcus would find a way to turn everything I said around on me, and make it hurt a hell of a lot more than it ever could have hurt him. I’d left him to get away from this kind of poisonous, manipulative bullshit. Why was I putting up with it now?

I set my jaw and looked in his eyes. “I’m not going to argue with you about this. Bottom line? Stay the fuck away from my kids. No texts. No emails. No getting together for lunch. No contact whatsoever. Am I clear?”

Marcus showed his palms, and in his most patronizing voice, said, “Whatever you say, dear.”

Oh, there was a lot I could say to him right then. A lot I wanted to say. But the more we talked, the more he’d weaponize everything I said or didn’t say, and by the end of this, he could have me apologizing for accusing him of being exactly who he was. I’d said the important part—stay away from the kids. The rest would be a mix of giving him ammunition to manipulate me and the verbal equivalent of beating my head against a wall. I’d had enough concussions recently, thank you.

So without another word, I turned around and left.

I couldn’t get out of the house, out of the driveway, and out of this upscale snobby-ass hellhole of a neighborhood fast enough. There was no way in hell I was coming back here. Not for anything. If he went near my kids again, that was what protective orders were for, and I knew some Bellevue Police officers. They could deal with him instead.

As I drove, I ground my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. Christ. I’d really been with him for half a dozen years? Now that we’d had some time apart, seeing him again left me baffled about what in the world had ever attracted me to him. I mean, he wasn’t bad looking. Even at a few months shy of fifty, his lifetime of vanity had paid off—he was fit, tan, and had embraced the silver fox thing. He’d given a damn good impression of being good with my kids, which was probably what had won me over. Had he been manipulating me back then? All the way back in the beginning? Had it been a slow process that started on day one, or something he’d started later? Hard to say, but I suddenly couldn’t think of any conversation we’d ever had without my skin crawling as I tried to figure out what his angle had been. What had he wanted? Had he gotten it? How had I not noticed?

Ugh. Fuck. No wonder I’d thrown myself in headfirst with Asher. I couldn’t care less about his money or Marcus’s. Asher was the breath of fresh, honest, genuine air that I’d been desperately needing. I loved that he was about as different as a man could be from Marcus.

Something cold wrapped itself around my heart.

That wasn’t the only reason I was so into Asher, was it? Because he was the polar opposite of Marcus in every way that mattered?

No, that was ridiculous. Of course Asher was a better person than Marcus. Any decent human being had one up on Marcus, and I wouldn’t have been dating him if he wasn’t.

But all these feelings I had for Asher had nothing to do with Marcus… Right? Just like Asher wasn’t into me because I wasn’t Nathan… Was he?

My heart dropped. Asher was understandably gun shy after his relationship. But did that mean he was with me to recalibrate himself to a healthy, non-abusive relationship so he could move on? Was I something to ease his transition back from a warzone to normal life?

I tapped my thumbs rapidly on the wheel. I didn’t want to believe Asher was using me, and if he was, I didn’t think he was doing it consciously. But was I kidding myself that this wasn’t something to break his fall so he could dust himself off and move on?

Oh God.

What if Marcus was right?

Or what if I really was something safe and boring for Asher until he had his head together enough to move on to a real relationship with someone younger, hotter, and richer?

What if all Asher wanted was sex and safety for a little while, and then I went and fell for him anyway?

Oh fuck. What if I already had?





Chapter 22


Asher



After a few days of working myself up over Geoff, convincing myself we weren’t okay even though he’d explicitly said we were, the relief of being back in the same room with him was indescribable. It wasn’t that I hadn’t believed him. It was just really, really easy to start letting my imagination run wild once we were apart, and it didn’t take much to convince my brain I was on thin ice with Geoff.

As soon as he was in my house and in my arms, though, all that mental crap evaporated, and everything between us was perfect again.

Almost.

Sort of.

Even as we made out against the foyer wall, something wasn’t right. Something was off, and it wasn’t just me.

I still wanted him, and from the way he kissed and touched me, it was mutual. But there was something…out of place. Every time he kissed me, I could feel it, but I couldn’t put my finger on how or why. He wasn’t half-assing anything. He wasn’t flinching from my touch or pushing me away. So what the hell?

I broke the kiss and met his eyes. They were heavy-lidded and smoldering with need, but… Yeah, there was definitely something else going on. Some distance between us that I couldn’t close or define.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He licked his lips. “Why?”