Ten Tiny Breaths (25 page)

I hoof the bag extra hard, and in a way I
know Ben isn’t expecting. I hope it hits him square in the balls,
just for bringing up Trent. It doesn’t, but it does earn a grunt.
“What boyfriend?”

“The one who’s always at the bar.”

“Have you seen him at the bar lately?”
Punch.

There’s a long pause. “No, suppose I
haven’t.”

“Well, then, Lawyer Boy, what would you
deduce from that? Or are you not able to? You’re not going to make
a very good lawyer if that’s the case.”

Another kick to the bag. Another grunt from
Ben.

“So you’re unattached again?”

“I’ve always been unattached.”

“Right. Well, then, how about we go out
tonight?”

“I’m working.”

“So am I. Let’s grab an early dinner and head
over together.”

“Sure, fine. Whatever,” I say without
thinking. I don’t want to think.

Ben’s brow arches. “Seriously?”

I stop kicking now and wipe the layer of
sweat from my brow with my forearm. “Isn’t that what you wanted to
hear?”

“Well, yeah, but I was expecting a ‘drop
dead’ answer instead.”

“I’m good for that too.”

“No, no!” Ben quickly answers, backing away
from me. “I’ll come get you at six?”

“Fine,” I say, flying through the air with a
perfect round house.

***

“What did I agree to?” I ask myself as I
stand under the hot water, staring up at the showerhead, imagining
another red serpent there to scare the daylights out of me. If I
screamed loud enough, would Trent magically appear? Would he break
down the door again? I wouldn’t let him leave this time. Not a
chance.

I run into Livie in the kitchen. We’ve hardly
talked since our fight. “I’m sorry, Livie,” is all I say.

She ropes her arm around my waist. “He’s a
jerk, Kacey.”

“A stupid jerk,” I mumble.

“A big stupid jerk,” she answers. It’s a game
we used to play when we were little. It drove our parents
batty.

“A big stupid smelly jerk.”

“A big stupid smelly jerk with
hemorrhoids.”

I slap my forehead. “Oh! And she pulls out
the ’roids for the win!”

Livie giggles. “Where are you going?”

I slide out from her grip to put my shoes on.
“Out.”

“Like on a date?” Livie’s face lights up.

I hold my hand up to stall her excitement.
“Ben’s a meathead from work. We’re grabbing a bite and then he’s
driving me to work and I’ll smash his nuts if he tries
anything.”

There’s a knock on the door. “One meathead,
coming right up!” I joke as I throw open the door, expecting to
find Ben’s giant frame and obnoxious grin filling the doorway.

I stumble back two steps as the air is
knocked out of my lungs.

It’s Trent.

“Hey,” he offers, sliding his aviator glasses off to
show me those beautiful two-toned blue eyes that I could lose
myself in.

I stare into those eyes, feeling the blood
drain from my body as I watch the full gamut of emotions play
across his face—relief, guilt, grief, bitterness, and then guilt
again. I’m sure there’s an array of reactions showing on my own
face but I couldn’t identify any one of them right now. And so I
simply stand there, mouth agape, having lost all ability to
speak.

Livie hasn’t though. Far from it. “You! Stay
away from her!” She shrieks, charging forward. Her movement breaks
my trance, and I just manage to grab her before she rakes ten
layers of Trent’s skin off with flailing claws.

“Give us a minute, Livie,” I manage to say
with complete calm. Inside, a torrent of sensations threaten to
sweep me off my feet. The door beside me sways and I fight harder
to pull air into my lungs as my heart speeds up.
Trent is
back
. It’s as much a punch to the gut as a swell inside my
chest. Like a bad addiction, I know it’s wrong, but, damn, does it
leave me satisfied.

Livie turns and stomps toward her room but
not before throwing one last icy glare Trent’s way. “Hemorrhoids!
Remember that, Kacey!”

Her sudden outburst and the seriousness of
her attitude ruptures my panic attack like a needle to a balloon,
and I find myself chuckling.
God, I love that girl.

Maybe it’s my laughter that eases Trent,
gives him the crazy nerve to touch me, I don’t know. “Let me
explain,” he begins, his hands moving to mine.

I recoil, my mercurial mood snapping back to
anger. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I hiss.

He holds his hands out in front of him—palms
outward—in a sign of peace. “Fair enough, Kace. But give me a
chance to explain.”

My arms cross my chest and I hug myself
tightly to keep from collapsing. Or reaching out to him, to his
warmth. “Go ahead. Explain,” I growl, fighting the overwhelming
urge to throw myself at his body, to not listen to any excuse
because none of it really matters. It’s the past, and the way he
makes me feel when I’m near him is all that matters right now. But
I can’t do that. I can’t weaken.

His lips part to speak and my knees go
wobbly.
Oh God
. If I have to stand in his presence for one
more second, I am going to lose all my fight.

Ben appears around the corner like a knight
in shining armor.

“Time’s up,” I declare a little too loud. I
shoulder pass past Trent, slamming the apartment door shut. “Hey,
Ben!” It’s obvious to anyone who knows me that this is all an act.
I’m never this cheery. I’m never cheery, period.

Ben looks at me, and then at Trent, and I see
the wheels turning. He knows he just interrupted something. He’s a
smart meathead. “Do you want me to
—
” He
gestures to the exit, like he’s suggesting he could leave.

“Nope!” I hook my arm through his and tug him
forward, holding my head high and Ben’s arm close, letting my anger
fuel my steps forward.

Inside, I feel the walls caving in.

***

“You’ve hardly touched your pasta,” Ben
notes. We’re at an Italian restaurant five minutes away from
Penny’s.

“I’ve touched it plenty,” I grumble as I stab
it with my fork. “I’ve touched it so much that your pasta is
jealous. I hear talk of a spaghetti smack down.”

“You’ve hardly
eaten
your pasta,” Ben
rephrases but smirks.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Is it because of that guy?”

We’ve been sitting at this restaurant for
forty-five minutes and this is the first question Ben asks me. The
rest of the time, I listen to him drone on about the shot knee that
kept him from a football scholarship, and about how he wants to be
a criminal lawyer in Vegas because that’s where all the rich crooks
live. I don’t know if he doesn’t ask me anything because he’s a
narcissist or he realizes I don’t like answering questions. Either
way, it has suited me just fine.

I sigh as I pull a twenty out of my purse and
toss it on the table. “We should probably get going soon.”

He frowns as he hands the money back. “My
treat.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“Whoa! Who said anything about sex? I’m just
here for the meal and the pleasant company.” He acts all offended,
but the glimmer in his irises tells me he’s teasing. An
unattractive snort escapes me.

“Okay, fine. Mediocre company.” He shoves a
piece of bread into his mouth and adds with a smile, “Hot piece of
ass.”

“And that’s the Ben we know and love,” I
confirm with an exaggerated nod and a sugar packet to his
forehead.

“Seriously though,” Ben starts as he scrapes
the last mound of pasta from his plate. I wait patiently for him to
finish chewing and swallow. “Why’d you agree to come out with me?
You’re obviously not over that other guy and, even if you were, I’m
no idiot. I don’t know what that day in the gym was …”

Dammit.
I am that obvious. I hope I’m
not to Trent though. I don’t want him to see through me so easily.
He’ll swoop in and melt my defenses with those smoldering baby
blues. I shrug. “You don’t want me, Ben. I’m seven layers of fucked
up with a side of batshit crazy.”

He grins but I catch the sadness in his eyes
as he throws down a few bills to cover the meal. “I already knew
that.”

“Well then why’d
you
ask
me
out?
Especially
after what I did to you that day in the
gym?”

He shrugs. “Waiting for your next moment of
full on crazy? I’ll be faster next time. In and out.”

I burst out laughing, Ben’s shameless honesty
a welcome relief.

“I don’t know, Kace. I’m around a lot of
sluts and airheads. You’re different. You’re smart and funny. And
you can shrink a guy’s confidence like no other girl I’ve met.”

“I didn’t think anyone could shrink that
swelled head of yours, Ben.”

He grins arrogantly. “Depends which head
you’re talking about.”

***

“I hear Trent’s back in town?” Storm whispers
to me as I pour shots of Patron for a bachelor party.

“Oh yeah?” I mutter, pursing my lips. I don’t
know what else to say. I haven’t forgotten. I can’t get through a
minute without his name popping into my mind, without remembering
how incredible his touch feels against my skin, without wanting it
all back the way it was for that short, magical period of time
before he ripped my heart out of my chest and tossed it to the
curb.

I hate him for making me feel like this. For
giving me hope only to yank it all away. For pulling me above the
water, helping me breathe again, before shoving my head back
under.

So when I find him staring down at me from
the other side of the bar near last call, I have to brace myself
against the bar, anger and grief slamming into me with such force
that I struggle to stay upright.

“What do you want?” I hiss.

“I need to talk to you.”

“No.”

“Please, Kacey.” That tone, that voice.
Already, I felt it probing for my weak spot, a place to wiggle in
and win me over. I won’t let it. Not this time.

“You had three weeks to talk to me and … oh
wait!” I smack my forehead for effect. “You disappeared off the
face of the fucking earth. That’s right. I almost forgot.”

“Just give me five minutes,” he pleads,
leaning forward.

“Fine! Go ahead. This is the perfect time and
place to talk.” My arms fly out, exaggerating how much this is
not
the perfect time and place to talk.

Trent’s jaw tenses. “I mean it, Kacey. Five
minutes, in private. I need to explain something. I need …
you.”

“Oh, you
need
me? Interesting.” I
force the words through clenched teeth. Inside, the glue that holds
me together strains against that word.
Need.
Trent
needs
me. “Fine.” I slap my towel down onto the bar and
holler, “back in five, Storm.”

She looks over, sees Trent, glances at me
with concern, but then nods.

“Come with me.” I stomp past him, acutely
aware that Nate and Ben are following close, but I continue. I
march past Jeff and Bryan, the two bull dog bouncers who watch over
the private rooms. They don’t try to stop me. I’m sure my stiff
spine and scowl that says “back the fuck away before I choke you
with your own tongue” has something to do with that.

My leg flies forward to kick open the door to
an available room. Spinning on my heels, I stand with arms folded
across my chest, watching Trent’s lean body and his apprehensive
face come towards me. Jerking my head toward the room, I command,
“Get in.”

“Kacey …”

“You said private. How much more private can
you get than a private room?” I ask, my tone coated with ice.

With a defeated sigh and a small nod, Trent
passes through. Behind him, I see Ben lean in to say something to
Nate. It seems to keep the beast at bay. Ben heads toward me with a
look of concern. “You okay, Kacey?”

“What do you think, Ben?”

His chin furrows in thought. “I think I’ll
stand guard out here. I won’t come in. Not unless I hear something
that sounds bad, deal?”

“Deal.” I offer him a small nod of
appreciation. I think, after our sordid past, Ben and I have come
to an understanding. I may even call him a friend.

I storm into the room, slamming the door
behind me. Inside is a small dimly lit space with a black lounge
chair and mood music, different from what plays out in the main
club area. Storm says they have staff to thoroughly clean and
sanitize the rooms after each client leaves. Even if that’s not
true, right now I don’t care.

I stalk over to where Trent stands and I
shove him backward into the lounge chair. Then my hand fumbles with
the side zipper of my skirt.

“What are you …” Trent begins to ask but his
words die as I unzip my skirt and let it drop to the ground. I step
out of the skirt as my hands move to unbutton my gauzy blouse,
starting at the top, sliding buttons through eyelets deftly.

“Kacey, no.” Trent leans forward.

My three inch heel slamming into his chest
forces him back into his seat.

“This is what you came for, isn’t it? This is
what you
need
?” My tone is as cold as a deep freeze. “What
you’ve always wanted?” I toss my shirt on the floor and glower back
at him in nothing but my bra, panties, and heels. “This is the part
where you tell me I’m so beautiful. So say it. Say it so we can get
this over with, and you can disappear again.” My voice wavers a bit
at the end and I clam up, not trusting it right now.

“No, Kacey. Jeez.” Trent slides off the chair
onto his knees, his hands finding their way to my thighs to hold
them delicately.

“No touching the girls. Did you forget the
rules already?” I sneer at him.

His eyes haven’t left mine, and in them I see
a torrent of indescribable emotion that threatens to melt all of my
defenses. I have to break his gaze and look away, a lump forming in
my throat that I can’t seem to shove down.