After dinner they drove down the highway to Rhys’ house on Lake Tahoe. Sky was a bundle of mixed emotions, questioning her reasons for coming out this soon after spending the day with Brock. Thank goodness Rhys was not demanding or arrogant. She’d meant to stay for one drink and then ask to be driven home. One drink turned into another lengthy conversation stretching on for hours. When Rhys looked like he was about to kiss her, she pulled away. He didn’t press her any further.
As she finished up her wine, he said something about understanding their connection didn’t need to take a physical dimension, or something new age like that. It didn’t matter, except for some reason she accidentally tipped her glass up at too high an angle and spilled a good mouthful of her drink down the front of her dress. Rhys offered her a robe so he could help her clean it off, and showed her to a room upstairs to change. That’s when it happened.
She had removed her dress and was about to pick up the folded robe in the guest bedroom when Rhys opened the door and sauntered inside. Half naked, she grabbed up the robe in front of her stomach, unwilling to let him see what she had hidden from every man she’d been with since tragedy struck years ago. She asked him to leave, but he refused. And then he saw it. The scar. He asked her what had happened, and she begged him to leave. Finally he did. When she got the robe on and went to get her dress, he told her that little scar made her more beautiful. She wasn’t expecting that, but then again, how could she know what to expect when she had gone to serious lengths to hide it from everyone? Yet something about the way he said it made one thought hover around her mind: Brock.
She told Rhys the truth, that she was in love with someone else, and apologized for letting things get as far as it did. Rhys could have been a prick right then, but he wasn’t. He had his driver take her home, and made it to her house just minutes before Brock truck rolled up.
That was all.
Sky had turned down Rhys, still clinging to the shred of hope that Brock would eventually come around. All she had to do now was tell Brock.
She clutched the sides of the sink. Putting herself out there, admitting what happened, and telling Brock what she wanted would be hard as hell, but she had to do it. There was a chance he would feel cornered. Maybe he’d take the opportunity to end things once and for all.
Sky’s stomach churned. Life without Brock would be hard, but the revolving door had to stop.
Right now.
Sooner or later it would drive Sky into some obsessed, crazy lady mode. That wasn’t good for anyone. She needed someone to count on; someone who could give her unwavering love and attention.
It’s now or never. Go out there and tell that man what you want.
With her heart hammering, she opened the door.
You can do this. Whatever happens, it’s for the best.
“I need to talk to you about something,” she started, looking at the throw rug leading to the bathroom.
Brock didn’t answer. Sky looked up, afraid of what she would find. But instead of apprehensive or regretful, he looked confused. His right hand held a business card. He glanced back and forth from it to her face.
“What are you doing with Rhys Dillon’s business card?”
“I...” she trailed off. Did Brock know Rhys? How?
“Sky?”
Her heart pounded in her ears. The conversation had already started off all wrong. She wanted to be the one to break the news about Rhys and the date, and now that Brock had found his card it was going to put them both in warrior mode. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she made a habit of hiding things from him.
She took a step forward, closing some of the uncomfortable distance between them. “Brock, listen. I came out here to talk to you about something more important than Rhys Dillon.”
“How do you know him?” he insisted, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed.
“From the restaurant… and I went out with him last night.”
“What? You went on a date with Rhys Dillon?” He couldn’t seem to comprehend. Instead, he kept looking between Sky and the card, searching for an answer on the tiny piece of paper.
“Yes…but nothing happened. Not really. We talked, and then I told him I couldn’t be with him because I’m in…because there’s someone else. I came home, and then you drove up.”
Brock was steaming. “When did he ask you out? Why did you agree to go out with him?”
Sky wanted to laugh. Did Brock just assume he was the only man who found her attractive? “Excuse me?”
Brock stared at her, refusing to repeat the question.
Anger descended on Sky like a rain cloud, pummeling her so she couldn’t even distinguish between up and down. If he was suggesting no one else could want her he was dead wrong.
“Other men are interested in me, you know,” she snapped. “It’s not like I’m gonna sit around forever and be happy with being your booty call.”
Sky bit her lip. She didn’t mean to say it quite like that.
Shit.