The Tenant (17 page)

Neither had she.

When had he become more, and how could she change it back?

She wouldn’t have to. He’d be gone in a couple weeks, and things would be back to normal.

Assuming she still wanted “normal.”

The sun was low in the sky when Becca said she had to be going. “Promised my boys a steak dinner. Then they promised me some meat.” They both laughed. “I’m driving you home, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll have to go back at some point. Maybe I’ll drop by Alice’s first, though. Hide till Derek goes to bed.”

They took care of the bill and slid into Becca’s Mazda. “You know, you don’t have to marry Mason,” Becca said casually, backing out of the parking space.

“Huh?”

“Just ’cause you said you would, doesn’t mean you have to. Not if it’ll make you both miserable.”

“What are you talking about? Mason won’t make me miserable!”

Becca started forward, using her sun visor mirror to freshen her lipstick. “Didn’t say he would. But if marrying him isn’t your ideal after all, you don’t need to go through with it. Do what feels right to you, not what you think people expect you to.”

Yes, she’d do that.

As soon as she figured out what felt right to her.

“You only want me to ditch Mason ’cause you don’t know how to explain your two wedding dates to your mother.”

“That’s me—devious and selfish to the bone!”

“Don’t I know it?”

Becca’s smile wilted, and she reached for Amanda’s hand. “Seriously, though, please be happy.”

“I’ll try, Becca. I promise.”

Derek made his way to the living room carefully. The moans that had reached his bedroom hadn’t sounded like Amanda, but in the off chance she and Lover Boy were doing the beast with two backs in his living room, he didn’t want to see more than he absolutely needed to.

He didn’t want to see
any
of it.

He didn’t want it to even be happening. Ever. Mason should keep not putting out until Amanda gave up on him and returned to Derek’s arms.

But then Derek would be a consolation prize, and that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Amanda to come to him with the same wild abandon she’d shown in his bed. He wanted her to drop all her shields and allow him inside her mind and soul the same way she’d let him enter her body.

“Dream on,” he muttered as he entered the living room. Amanda was nowhere to be seen, but a blonde with the wrong color of eyes was faking her orgasm on the screen, a huge cock rammed repeatedly into her ass. Amanda had made so hasty a retreat, she’d forgotten to switch off the porn.

But had she enjoyed it first? The mental image of her touching herself, pushing her long slender fingers inside her tight cunt, made him ache with longing. He needed that image to be more than mental. He needed it to be his daily routine.

Derek muted the TV but didn’t switch it off. From where he stood, he could see empty cartons still littered the table. He should be glad to be out of there soon. He should be happy never to have to clean up after Amanda again. He should be itching to start his life over, get on with the plan he’d hatched.

But he wouldn’t have had a plan if it weren’t for the blonde slob with the perky tits, the perfect heart-shaped ass, and the mouth that wouldn’t give up.

He wouldn’t have decided to get on with his life if she hadn’t invaded it, and there was no way he’d be making this phone call if he hadn’t needed to get away from her. He dialed the number he knew by heart and held his breath.

His call was answered on the first ring. “Derek! Finally! If we didn’t hear from you this week either, I was gonna come over and hunt you down.”

Derek smiled inadvertently. “Hi, Dad. How are you?”

“Old and brittle, but still sharp as a razor. How about you, boy?”

Derek took a deep breath. This was it. This was when he told his dad he was a failure. “Not that good, Dad. Really fucked things up.”

He spent the better part of the next hour filling his father in on everything that had happened since Catherine betrayed him, including his weekend with Amanda. It all rolled off his tongue so easily, he couldn’t fathom why he’d been keeping his hurt to himself for so long.

“I know you expected more of me,” he said, hanging his head even though his father couldn’t see him. “I expected more of me.”

“We’ve all been there, Son. Love can turn the wisest man into a fool.” There was no judgment in his dad’s voice. “What are you going to do now? You know you can always come to New York. Your mother will be ecstatic to have her baby boy back.”

Derek chuckled. “Don’t think I can handle Mom’s worrying about me at this point, but I was thinking of coming to see you guys. And I’d like to talk some business with you.”

“How soon can you get here?”

“Thursday? Friday the latest.”

“I’ll have your mom make that pot roast you love. Tanya’s in town too. We’ll make a family thing out of it. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it all out.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m sorry I let you down. You started that restaurant, and I—”

“You made it a hit. You did it once and you’ll do it again, Derek. I believe in you. Always have. Love you.”

“Love you, Dad.”

Derek’s eyes burned when he ended the call, but he was smiling. Time he took his life in his own hands again.

Pity Amanda wouldn’t be in the picture. They could have been good together, if she relaxed a bit. If she only gave him a chance.

Not that he’d ask for one. She had made her choice; the ring on her finger said so as eloquently as she had during lunch. All Derek could do was be a gentleman and make things easier for her by not invading her space until he moved out.

Might be easier for him, too. He wouldn’t have to pretend not to want to fuck her every time they crossed paths inside the apartment. The trip to New York would help with that. He could move back permanently, true. Could get an apartment and manage one of his family’s three Italian restaurants. It wouldn’t be enough for him, though. He’d been entirely on his own since his father had sold him his half of their San Francisco restaurant—the one Catherine had stolen from him. There was no way possible he could settle for less now.

The thought of spending some time with his parents and older sister again after not having seen them for a couple years lightened his mood just enough for him to notice his stomach’s rumbling. He hadn’t eaten more than a couple bites earlier. With Amanda out of the house, he could do what he did best and clear his mind by cooking.

A quick look-see in the fridge, and he decided on spaghetti Bolognese. By the time the meat was browned to perfection and the onions had turned gold, he’d peeled and sliced the tomatoes, and he felt ravenous. He brought salted water to boil in a second pot and was adding the pasta when he heard a key in the lock.

Amanda strolled inside looking the same way she had earlier: beautiful and unapproachable. Derek’s mouth went dry. He wanted to rip the clothes off her and take her right there, by the door. It felt like an eternity since he’d been inside her. He’d been sharing an apartment with her for a handful of days, had been intimate with her for less than forty-eight hours, and yet she’d gotten under his skin, she was in his blood. He’d had a taste, and it wasn’t enough.

“Hi.” She sounded timid. Nothing like the woman who’d moved in determined to crush him. Maybe he’d gotten to her too.

“Hi,” he mumbled. He couldn’t trust his voice to remain steady if he spoke any louder.

“What are you cooking? Smells divine.” Her smile, like her cheer, seemed fake.

He merely grunted. He pondered offering her some pasta, but decided against it. They weren’t chums. They couldn’t keep eating together like it was no big deal. He kept his back to her until the pasta was ready. Then he loaded a plate, even though he’d all but lost his appetite, and went to his room without another word.

He needed some alcohol in his system, but was afraid of what he’d do if he lost control. He shoveled down his dinner and lit a cigarette, glad he’d not replaced the smoke detector in his room. He had a plan and—assuming his talk with his father worked out—an investor. It was unfortunate that he didn’t have the girl too, but he’d been there before. He’d survive.

He’d be miserable.

He left the empty pasta bowl on his bedside table and used it as an ashtray. Filthy habit. He should give it up.

He drew a deep breath. He should man up and talk to Amanda. Yes, she’d made a choice, but it wasn’t an informed one. She didn’t know how he felt. He’d gotten as far as his bedroom door when he heard her talking. At first he thought she was speaking to him, but then he realized she was on the phone.

“Drop it,” she said. “I told you, the wedding is back on, and that’s final. Alice, I swear, if you breathe a word about Derek to anyone…”

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t put himself out there for a lost cause. He flopped onto his bed, shoes and all, and stared at the ceiling until he could no longer keep his eyes open. When he finally slept, he dreamed of her.

When Derek locked himself in his room like a petulant child, Amanda was tempted to follow and give him a piece of her mind. She decided she wouldn’t stoop so low. Not again.

Not with the memories his room held now.

No, she had no reason to go to him. No reason to talk to him. Nothing to debate. She was going to marry Mason and be happy.

Maybe part of her wanted to see Derek earlier, and that was why she hadn’t gone by her sister’s first. Maybe she’d been curious to figure out which side of him was real: the heartless bastard or the man who wouldn’t let her kiss him because she was too drunk to know what she wanted. She guessed it was the first one. Now that fucking was off the table, he’d reverted to the jerk who wouldn’t even look at her when she spoke to him.

Maybe that was better.

Sure, it hurt her now, but—

It hurt her? Why? Being rejected as a person by Derek meant nothing to her.
He
meant nothing to her. She hadn’t been hurt when she’d thought Mason was sleeping around on her. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let
Derek
get to her.

The truth of her thoughts hit her like a slap on the face.

She hadn’t been hurt when she’d thought Mason, the man she was about to bind her life to, was sleeping with another woman. She’d been angry, felt betrayed, and blamed herself for believing another lying, cheating son of a bitch. She’d felt a dull, throbbing ache at the pit of her stomach, but she hadn’t felt heartbroken.

Not that Derek not speaking to her had broken her heart. No. It just felt more like a deep sharp wound than an ache. More like something had been torn from her.

More like she was in danger of losing herself if she gave into him.

It didn’t mean she didn’t love Mason. It meant he was safe and Derek wasn’t. She’d chosen right.

It was never supposed to be a choice.

Her phone rang. Alice.

“Hey.” Amanda couldn’t bring herself to sound cheerful.

“Hey! You okay? Mom called. She seemed to know you and Mason had a fight. I didn’t let on it was more than that, but thought I’d ask what you’ve told her.” Alice didn’t pause between sentences, and Amanda wondered how long her sister could go without drawing a breath.

“I didn’t say anything. Mason called them at home when he couldn’t reach me.”

“He’s got some nerve!”

She suddenly felt very tired. “Alice…I was wrong. He didn’t cheat. It was Matt’s girlfriend who answered his door.”

“Shit! No way. When did you find out?” Alice sounded bewildered.

“Mason came by yesterday.”

“He’s lying! Has to be. Why wouldn’t he tell you the truth to begin with?”

“He was half asleep when I showed up at his place. Didn’t have the presence of mind to run after me and explain. Then I wouldn’t take his calls, and Dad told him to give me some time to cool off before he tried to talk to me.” It all sounded very reasonable, as it had when Mason had said it, but it still felt somehow lacking. He could have tried more. He could have run after her in nothing but his shorts.

She could have not fucked Derek.

Alice wasn’t satisfied with Mason’s excuse either. “So he’s a chicken too, on top of everything else! He couldn’t deal with you when you were pissed off, so he decided to let things simmer down before he confronted you. That took a lot of balls. Not.”

Even if that was the case, she’d still been in the wrong. Mason might have made mistakes, but none as great as hers. “There
is
no ‘everything else!’ He didn’t sleep with someone else. I did.”

“From what I’ve seen of Derek, and knowing how horny you were, I doubt there was much sleeping involved.”

“Alice!”

“Okay, so Mason isn’t rotten scum. That’s good. But are you sure he’s what you need?”

“Yes.” Her reply was a couple heartbeats too slow. “The wedding’s going to go as planned, and it’ll all be fine. I’m just glad I hadn’t already let everyone know I’d called it off.”

“There’s still time to change your mind. Think about it. The moment you thought your fiancé was having an affair, you jumped into bed with another man. That has to mean something other than—you know—that the other man is hotter than sin. Maybe what you’re about to do is the mistake, not boinking your roomie!”

Amanda couldn’t let her sister feed her doubts. If she did, she was bound to screw up her entire life. “Drop it.” It came out less final than she’d meant for it to sound. “I told you, the wedding is back on, and that’s final. Alice, I swear, if you breathe a word about Derek to anyone…”

Alice sighed. “I won’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.”

“But I’ve got your back if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” She could control her mind, and logic said Mason was good for her. Stable and dependable and giving. With a good job and a good—though sometimes slow—sense of humor. And he loved her. “I won’t,” she said again, more to herself than her sister.

“In that case, I’m willing to stay up and listen to you bemoan your crappy married sex-life for the next few decades.”

Amanda let out a startled laugh. “You’re horrible.”