Page 104 of Damaged Desires

“Who were you planning on taking with you to the AMAs?” I asked, changing the subject.

“No one. I was going to go stag,” he said.

I put my hand to my chest. “Do noteversay those words to your PR manager again. No stag. Ever. Do you understand me?”

His smile dimmed slightly. “I get it, but sometimes it’s just too hard to fight off the expectations of where the night will end.”

“Wait, did the sex monger himself just basically say he didn’t want to have sex at the end of his night?” I teased.

He brushed a hand through his hair and then fidgeted with the leather bands at his wrist. “If it was just sex, it would be different. But it’s never just sex. There’s always this hope of theirs that it will turn into something more, and I haven’t found that yet—the person I want to have more with.”

I nodded because I understood completely what he was saying. Russell and I had been more mostly because it was convenient. I had liked him. I liked that he was smart and witty and whispered sensual words to me in five different languages. But if I was being honest, I’d never, ever thought of a lifetime with him. If I had, it probably would have had me running for the hills, because as much as I’d liked Russell, I also knew his views on marriage were pretty primitive. He wanted a wife who would stay home and raise the two and a half kids and the family pet while he was out slaying the world in Latin.

That hadn’t been me. I hadn’t been willing to sacrifice one thing in my life to have him.

But the man who’d left me in the library, the man who made my body burn just by standing next to him…that man I could see myself making sacrifices for. I just wasn’t sure what they would be.

“Do you have a way to get a dress for the AMAs?” Brady asked.

I shook my head. “I have no idea what the shopping is like in Thomasville, but I’ll figure something out.”

“Just send Alice your dress and shoe size. She’ll get something for both of us so we don’t clash,” he said.

I looked at him dubiously. “I don’t know. I don’t like other people picking out my clothes for me.”

He laughed. “She’s good at it. She’ll know what you like from having seen you in a million outfits already, but send her a list of dos and don’ts. She’ll follow them. I’ve never been disappointed in anything she’s made me wear.”

“Showing up in a gray or black tux is different than how much skin I will or will not show and exactly where it needs to fit on my body.”

He nodded. “I get it, but it’ll be one less thing for you to worry about. Send her all the measurements you want. She’ll come through; she always does.”

We said goodbye, and not even two minutes later, Alice sent me an email requesting I shoot her all my measurements. With a huge sigh of apprehension, I gave her the numbers the best I could and then closed my computer.

I searched the house for Nash and finally gave up, sending him a text instead.

ME: Where are you?

I’d just about given up when my phone finally buzzed.

OTTER: In the gym. If you’re done, get your ass out here for more training.

ME: Ask nicely.

OTTER: That was me asking nicely. I can come get you if you’d rather.

I debated his command because the thought of him coming and getting me sent swirls down my entire body, landing right at my core. But the movement of one of the cleaning people in the hallway reminded me of Maribelle’s words from this morning, and I certainly didn’t want to put on a show for anyone else.

ME: Give me five minutes to change.

OTTER: I’ve set the timer.

I laughed and ran upstairs, taking off the champagne top with just a hint of disappointment. I’d imagined Nash running his hands over the ribbing and unbuttoning the buttons slowly and methodically in a way that would have had me squirming.

I was just going up the stairs at the back of the carriage house when the door flew open. He watched me from the doorway as I climbed up to him. His arms were crossed, stance wide, glower on his face. When I got to the top, I realized his phone was chirping. I laughed at the timer going off.

“I have to tell you, I almost allowed you to come and get me,” I said with a smile and an arched brow.

His eyes slid over me, taking in the small tank I was wearing with the pair of workout shorts I’d opted for rather than my normal yoga pants. He reached out and put his hands around my waist, thumbs skimming the naked flesh, lighting me up. The soft-cup exercise bra did nothing to hide the reaction I was having to his touch.