Tryst

“Hurt us?” His eyes flare on the word “hurt” as if the prospect excites him.

“Our careers, yes. The press would be relentless.”

He nods, the small smile on his face turning smug. “Sure. The press.”

He gazes down the hallway, searching for an escape hatch, and I release him by saying goodbye. I contemplate inviting him for di

When I knock on Justice’s door, a sense of anxiety, almost fear, has me tempted to turn back around. But before I can make a run for it, he swings open the door, nearly ripping my arm out of the socket as he pulls me inside.

“What the fuck did you do?” he asks as soon as the door slams behind me. He’s pacing the floor, breathing heavily, pulling at his short, spiky hair. He’s positively pissed. And it has nothing to do with being tardy.

I stand perfectly still, the soles of my sandals planted in marbled quicksand. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, he’s in my face, not threateningly, but he’s challenging me. Challenging me to lie to his face and try to deny what he so obviously can see. “You think I’m fucking stupid? You think I don’t know what you did with that boy? Dammit, Heidi! I thought we talked about this? I thought you understood the gravity of your decision, and how it would cost you everything. Everything! You think some romp with a rock star will replace a damn decade with your husband? Fucking hell, Heidi. I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Justice . . .”

He keeps pressing, keeps digging into me. And I just stand there and let him. “I should have fucking known when you said you needed to bring him. This isn’t about drugs or alcohol, is it? You want him here so you can fuck him, yet play the good wife for your husband. Well, not in my house. I don’t do affairs, DuCane. You wa

“Justice . . .” I try again. “He knows.”

“What?” That makes him retreat a few steps. “What the fuck do you mean, He knows?”

“Tuck . . . he knows. About Ransom.”

Justice heaves out an aggravated breath and resumes his pacing. “I’m not a marriage counselor, you know. I can’t fix your marriage now that you’ve screwed it to hell.”

“I know.” I step toward him, humbled, defeated. “And it’s not like that. I didn’t screw it up. We screwed it up. Together.”

“We?”

“He was there. Tucker was there when I was with Ransom. He watched. He . . . instructed. And he loved it. At least he did at the time.”

“Did?”

I shake my head, not wanting to believe what’s happened—what’s been happening for some time now. “What I need . . . he can’t give it to me. And he knew I found Ransom attractive. We were all drunk, high . . . it just happened. And I . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about him. I thought letting Tucker see what my body needed from him would help him accept it, and he would eventually be able to provide. But he can’t. He won’t. And ever since our little tryst . . . ever since I felt what it was like to be so completely sated, so undeniably fulfilled . . . I can’t go back to how it was. Shit, I refuse to go back to that.”

That sobers him and I watch the ire drain from his features. “Does he know this? Your husband?”

I nod. “We tried afterwards. I thought he was catching on, opening up to the idea. And then he stopped. Jumped away from me like I was a leper. Like I was disgusting and deviant. It hurts to be rejected by the man you love. Especially when another man is willing to not only accept you, but also give you what you need. And not because you need it, but because he wants it too.”

I move in closer. Closer than we’ve ever been. Not seductively, but in an act of vulnerability. I’m giving him his chance to reject me. Letting him push me away and make me feel dirty too. “Justice, I’m scared. I’m terrified because I want him so badly it physically aches. And I can’t think of anything else but him, and how it felt to be understood. I know that’s wrong, and vile. But fuck, I can’t help it. I can’t stop feeling this way. And it’s only a matter of time before the desires of my body override the intentions of my heart.”

He looks at me for a long time, either silently judging or thoughtfully comprehending, when the front door opens, causing us to jump apart. Luckily, Ally is joyfully oblivious, flitting in from outside as if she were just dancing on the sun. Fire-streaked red hair is toppled on her head in a messy knot, and she’s dressed in purple ru

“Heidi! You’re here!” she trills, her smile so infectious that I nearly forget the seriousness of the moment before. I can see why Justice keeps her around. The girl is like his own personal sunbeam. He lives in dark and stormy—thrives there. But one can only go so long in the absence of light before they fall ill in their own coldness and despair. Ally is his warmth. She is his sun and moon and stars. She’s what brought him back to life.

“That I am,” I reply, with a nod of my head. She comes to hug me then remembers herself. I’m not a hugger. Ever.

“You came at the right time too. You’ll never guess who’s here! I didn’t even know he was a client!” She looks to Justice and punches his massive bicep with her teeny, tiny, cutesy fist. “Did you do this to surprise me? Because you know what a crazy fan I am?”

Justice and I look at each other, our brows raised in confusion. “What are you talking about, angel?” he asks, pulling her into his arms. That took some time to get used to—their PDA. I envied the way Justice had allowed himself to change for her. Well, not even change, actually. Evolve. Ally had evoked the evolution of his heart.

She kisses his lips before turning around to face me, her eyes so bright, they blind me. “Ransom Reed! You know, from the band, Ransom? Oh em squeee! I was on the treadmill, workin’ on my fitness, zoned out, blasting their last album on my iPod, and in he walks. Just strolls in like it’s no big deal that he’s a freaking rock god in our gym. And he was shirtless!”

Justice clears his throat, which causes her to turn around and beam at him lovingly. “Oh, baby, he has nothing on you, of course. But, Heidi,” she says, turning back to me, “Holy abs, Batman. You’ve got to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, I’m sure Heidi believes it,” Justice murmurs, rolling his eyes.

“Huh?” Of course, Ally doesn’t miss his comment. The girl is bubbly and quirky, yes. But she’s no dummy. She’s seen what goes down within this compound. Hell, she’s been an active participant.

“He’s my client,” I explain, hoping to avoid any further speculation. “I brought him here to get away for a little while. And my husband . . . I brought my husband too.”

“Oh.” That one word is all I need to know that she doesn’t buy it. But she’s polite enough not to pry. “Well, you guys have got to come by and hang while you’re here. It’s not every day that we get to see Mr. Heidi in the flesh. Maybe a couple’s game night? I’ll make margaritas!”

“No,” Justice and I say in unison. When her expression falls, we both try to explain, rambling on top of each other.

“She’s here on business, and probably wants to spend her free time with Tucker.”

“I don’t want to intrude. Plus, I’ve got a ton of work to do.”

“Fine, fine,” Ally sighs, waving us off. She shimmies out of Justice’s arms and begins to make her way toward the back rooms. “You guys can save your excuses. Business before bullshit, I get it. I’ll be in the shower so you can go back to plotting your quest for world domination.”

After she disappears from sight and we hear the telltale signs of ru