Page 22 of Broken Dream (Steel Legends #3)

Chapter Nineteen

Angie

I wake up with a smile on my face.

My body feels satiated and wonderful.

Jason…

I move toward the center of the bed…

Disappointment overwhelms me.

He’s gone.

And he’s been gone for a while. The bed and covers aren’t warm at all.

It’s Saturday. No classes. So the only reason he would have left without saying goodbye is if…

No. There could be other reasons. He has a life outside of med school. Maybe he’s going for a consultation with the doctor who’s going to try to repair the nerves in his hand.

Or maybe he has to grade papers. Work on his curriculum.

Speaking of which, I have a lot of studying to do myself.

I can’t waste the day away mourning the fact that Jason left me.

He wanted to talk about what happened last night, no doubt to tell me it was a mistake.

I asked him not to spoil it with words.

So he didn’t. He let me lead him into my room, and he slid into bed with me, held me.

Then he left.

He left without saying goodbye.

I have to hand it to him—he didn’t use words.

Saturday means no teaching for him as well, and now that I think of it, probably no appointments with his doctors either.

Which means he’s most likely at home.

I could get up, shower, dress, and go pound on his door.

It’s tempting. So tempting.

But though I have no regrets, I know he does. I’m a student, and he no doubt feels like he crossed a line.

I sigh.

If only I could stay in bed all day and relive the passion between us.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle.

No.

It was raw and feral and animalistic.

And it was perfect.

I’ve never had sex like that. First of all, it’s always been in a bedroom, and second of all, it’s never had that rawness, that realness to it.

I never even imagined it could be like that. Never imagined an orgasm could be so intense and long-lasting.

And I want more of it.

But Jason left.

I have to face the fact that this isn’t what he wants.

I can’t blame him. He shouldn’t be sleeping with a student. He and I both know that.

So I lie in bed. I’ll give myself half an hour to relive the passion. To feel it again as I slide my hand between my legs.

The orgasm hits me, spreads through the veins in my body, out my fingers and toes and then plummets back to my pussy.

And it feels good.

But not as good as it felt last night with Jason.

His head between my legs, his tongue tantalizing me…

Nothing will come close to that.

Then how he filled me, his big hard dick inside me as he used my body for his own pleasure.

Oh, to be used that way again.

I check the digital clock on my nightside table. My half hour is up.

Tillie starts to whine at me. How do dogs always seem to know what time it is?

I slide out of bed and lean down to scratch her ears. I quickly put her out to do her business and then traipse to my bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand under it, washing the earthy and masculine smell of Jason from my body, a profound sense of loss hits me.

I power through anyway.

Once I’m clean and dressed, my hair falling in damp waves around my shoulders, I brew a pot of coffee, scramble a few eggs, and then sit down in my living room with my iPad and textbooks.

I force myself to concentrate on the study of medicine. I can’t allow my mind to keep drifting back to Jason and our tryst in my kitchen.

But my God… It’s difficult.

The words on the textbooks blur on the page, and the diagrams become blurs as well.

I rise, pace around my coffee table, head back to the kitchen to refill my coffee.

That’s it.

I have to confront him. We have to talk about this. I have to know if it’s something more than a onetime thing.

I slide my feet into my boots, throw on my down jacket and muffler, and walk to my door, ready to go to Jason’s.

I open the door?—

“Oh!” Tabitha stands there holding two cups from Starbucks. “Surprise!”

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Bringing you coffee.” She walks in without being invited.

“Okay.”

She wrinkles her forehead at me. “But you have your coat on. Were you on your way out?”

“Yeah, I was, but I’d rather have coffee with you.” I force a smile.

She grins. “Great, because I want to talk to you about something.”

Crap.

Has Ralph talked to her? Does she know about Jason’s and my kiss?

“You look all flushed,” she says, touching my cheek. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Then she touches my forehead. “I don’t know, Angie. You might have a slight fever.”

I can’t help a soft chuckle. It’s a medical student thing. After one semester, most medical students are convinced they can diagnose anything.

“I don’t have a fever, Tabitha. I’m fine.”

“If you say so.” She hands me a cup of the coffee she brought. “Black, no cream and sugar. I remember.”

I take it and click the paper cup to hers. “Cheers.”

She laughs and takes a sip of the—most likely triple mocha—in her cup.

Yeah, it is. She has a slight whipped-cream moustache that she licks off.

I gesture her over to the counter, where she takes a seat. “You hungry? I made some scrambled eggs earlier. I can make some more. Or I have some croissants. My cousin on the Western Slope made them. They’re the best you’ll ever eat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Tabitha says.

I walk to the fridge, but she’s right on my heels. Damn. She really does want to talk to me about something.

I grab a couple of Ava’s croissants out of the fridge, heat them for a few seconds in the microwave, and then grab some of my mom’s spiced peach jam.

“Here you go.” I put a croissant on a plate and hand it to her. “Have a seat.” I bring the jam over to the table and offer it to her. “My mom makes this stuff from our Western Slope peaches. It’s the bomb.”

Tabitha spreads some over her croissant and takes a bite. “Oh my God,” she says. “I think I just had a tiny orgasm.”

I laugh.

I’m beginning to really like Tabitha. She reminds me of Sage, my sister. So outgoing and always up for a good time.

“Glad you like it. I’ll let my mom know that her jam is orgasmic.”

She closes her eyes. “Not just the jam, but the croissant. You come from a talented family.”

She’s not wrong. I’ve always felt like I’m the one who has no talent. I’m not outgoing, not an artist like Gina, I can’t cook like my mom, bake like Ava, make wine like Dale and Uncle Ryan.

But what I can do is care. Have empathy. Which is why I decided to follow Aunt Melanie into psychiatry.

“So…” Tabitha begins.

Shit. Here it comes. She’s going to mention?—

“What do you think of Ralph?” she asks.

I raise my eyebrows. Ralph? Okay. Not what I was expecting. She’s the one who said he was being a dick yesterday. Unless he told her what he saw…

“Honestly?” I ask.

She swallows a bite of croissant. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t be asking you otherwise.”

Do I tell her the truth? That he came on to me in my kitchen and tried to kiss me? That when I rebuffed his advances, he threatened to go to the dean about the kiss I shared with Jason? Which would not only end his teaching career but would also make me a pariah among my peers?

Better to leave all that out.

I scratch my nose. “We talked about this, didn’t we? I think he’s kind of a dick.”

She wrinkles her forehead. “He did have that weird moment when we were all here for pizza. But… I don’t know. Something about him… I kind of like him, and… He’s hot.” She bites her lip. “Guess I’ve got a bit of a thing for older men.”

You and me both, sister.

That’s what I want to say. But I don’t know if I trust Tabitha enough to let her know about my ongoing romance—or whatever it is—with Jason.

So I just shrug. “He’s good-looking, yeah. I don’t know if I’d go so far as hot.”

She giggles. “Well, I stalked you online, of course. I saw your two brothers—one blond, one with brown hair. They put the heat in hot. Is everyone in your family good-looking?”

My cheeks warm. “I don’t know about that.” A lie, of course. My entire family is great-looking. Besides the fact that we’re rich, that’s the second thing people know about us.

“Lucky.” She narrows her eyes coyly. “Are your brothers available?”

“Dave is newly married.” I scratch my chin. “Henry’s not seeing anyone, though. But he’s a lot older.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Like I said, I like older.” Her bright eyes deflate slightly. “But jeez, Angie, something about Ralph…”

I really don’t need her getting close to Ralph. One, because he’s a dick and Tabitha deserves better. And two, because if they get close, he might spill the beans about Jason and me.

So I’m going to push her gently in another direction.

“Why not Eli? He’s got his eye on you. You’d have to be blind not to see it.”

She purses her lips. “He’s sort of cute, in a Jeff Goldblum kind of way.” She rolls her eyes. “But he and I are just study buddies. Besides, he’s so devoted to school and surgery. I imagine he’s not going to date for the next ten years.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I think you could convince him to give dating a try.”

She scoffs. “He’s like my brother, but Ralph… I was hoping you’d say he’s not a dick after all.”

I sigh. Do I out him? And if Tabitha is really interested in Ralph, I should probably tell her that he came on to me.

But I don’t want to hurt her.

She and I aren’t besties. Maybe we could be, but we haven’t known each other long enough or spent enough time together.

Tabitha is like my sister. She’ll go up and talk to anyone. Pretend they’ve known each other forever.

I’m not like that.

But if I want Tabitha to be my friend, to trust me as a friend, I owe her the truth.

I grab her hand. “If I tell you something, will you promise you won’t hold it against me?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

I sigh. “The other night when we were studying here, Ralph…came on to me in the kitchen.”

She doesn’t reply. In fact, I can’t read her expression at all.

“Uh-oh.” She bites her lip. “So I guess you two…”

“No, of course not. I just told you he’s a dick.”

She widens her eyes. “Oh my God, he didn’t force you, did he?”

“No, he stopped when I told him to.”

She rolls her eyes. “So he’s not a rapist. Great.”

I frown. “But he did threaten me. Sort of.”

She leans in, her voice hushed. “My God, what do you mean?”

How much can I tell her? Do I open up to her about Jason?

Do I trust her enough to do that?

Damn. I really don’t know what to do.

I press my lips together. “He just said…he’d expose something he knew about me.”

She drops her jaw, her eyes gleaming. “Oh my God. What?”

“It’s…nothing I’m real comfortable talking about. I’m sorry about that, but I hope you understand.”

She pats me on the hand. “Angie, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Again, just like Sage. Everyone’s a friend.

But I’m not like that.

I’m about to answer her—how, I’m not sure—when my doorbell rings.

Never has saved by the bell meant more to me.