Sweet Revenge (4 page)

He swung his feet to the floor and raked his hands through his hair and stared out the window though he could see nothing but darkness. He dragged his jeans to his waist and stood to zip up.

By the time she padded into the bedroom, he hadn’t gotten any further with dressing. She’d exchanged the sheet for her black sheath, the zipper undone. How could she look even sexier with it on? He wanted to tease the zipper up from her rear to her neckline, then unzip it again.

“Don’t worry about taking me home,” she said. “I’ve called a cab.”

Saved him the trouble. He glanced at her, then back, and squeezed his eyes shut. Wetness rimmed her lashes, and she blinked, mouth turned down like a sad little girl.
The spoiled girl she always was. Just finish what you started
. “Okay.” This was way worse than trying to psych himself up for the most difficult challenge. He’d waited years for this. Why couldn’t he do it?

“I need to find my other shoe.” She wandered out. Sniffles sounded from the hallway.

No way is she crying for real
. He’d go help her find her freaking shoe, and she could leave. For good.

“What does it look like again?” he asked.

As she bent over, her dark hair fell like a curtain to hide her face. She held up the other one, black with a spiky heel. “I’d leave it, but it’s my favorite pair. At least, it was.”

So he’d tainted her freaking shoes? “Probably in the kitchen. Didn’t we….” The memory of her legs wrapped around his waist acted like a cattle prod to his system. He’d never get the image of her out of his head—their gazes locked as he moved inside her, lids heavy on her dark eyes, but not enough to disguise the intensity of what she’d felt. What they’d both felt. It had mesmerized them.

“Yeah, after the hallway fiasco, we fucked there,” she said, her disgust plain.

Strike two
. Now the real Zoe was finally surfacing. “Right. Then the family room and the bedroom.”

Through clenched teeth, she ground out, “Just let me know if you find my shoe.”

Oh, she was primed. Here we go. The truth
. “What?” He braced for her inevitable attack.

She jerked upward to glare. “I actually thought we connected tonight. Don’t ask me
why
I thought that; obviously, conversation wasn’t a big part of this date. My stupid imagination, I suppose. The way you looked at me while we….” Her jaw trembled, and she snapped her mouth closed.

Nice act. “We did connect. First in the hallway, then the kitchen, then the—” A pillow whumped his head. “Hey.”

She held up a hand. “Sorry.” A shake of her head, and her dark eyes held fire. “No, I’m not. Not about that. About tonight, yes. I don’t care if you fire me, but I have to say it. I can’t believe you’re such a jerk.”

Hallelujah. She made it easy for him. “Okay, you’re fired.”

Her shoulders slumped. “What?”

Got her attention now. “I said, you’re fired.” So why didn’t it feel like the huge payback, the immense release he’d been waiting for all these years? It sucked, frankly.

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Just like that? I’m history?”

“Apparently.” If she only knew. She’d always been history, textbook unrequited love. And now it felt like he was losing her for real—only it didn’t have to be that way.

She drew in a ragged breath and her mouth tightened into a grim line.

Outside, a car horn blared.

“Oh thank God.” She hurried to the door.

“You know why.” He had to know the truth, right now, or it would haunt him forever.

“The only thing I know is, this night started out badly and is ending horribly. In the middle, there were some really, really great parts. But not great enough for you.”

“Come on, Zoe. You know who I am.”

She threw up her hands. “Yes, yes, Ty Hardin. Fitness guru. Almighty asshole.”

Could it possibly be true? “Think harder.”

Her face blanked, then she frowned. “Are you playing some game again? I did get that sense when you first walked into the restaurant.”

“That you knew me.”

“No, when you tossed out those cryptic remarks. Of course I know who you are. I’d have to be an idiot not to know who owns the place where I work. You’ve seen me teaching classes.”

Either she deserved an Oscar, or he’d totally screwed up. “Seriously. Think back. Who else did you know by the name of Ty Hardin?”

“What?” The way she stared, he’d gone bonkers.

“Oh, man. High school?” If she didn’t answer in the next few seconds, he’d fall to his knees and beg forgiveness.

The confusion clouding her face cleared, but the frown remained. “A boy named Tyson once went to my school. Not for long.”

A groan escaped. He stepped closer. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“You’re saying that you’re him?
That
Ty Hardin?” She laughed and waved him off. “Oh stop. You’re nothing like him, physically or otherwise.”

Bazinga—three, and you’re out
. There was the bitch he remembered. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The taxi horn honked again.

Her expression turned helpless when she glanced out the window and back at him. “Impossible. Anyway, Tyson went to my school for about six months, then transferred.”

“Guess why, Zoe.” The pain of those days flooded his memory. The hurt of loneliness, wanting to be near her.

She shrugged. “He moved out of the district?”

“Not right away. My mom home schooled me for the rest of the year, then we moved away. My parents sacrificed everything because they couldn’t stop me from sinking deeper into depression. I couldn’t stand to be in the same town anymore.”

She fisted her hair against her head. “Sorry, I’m not following. None of this makes sense. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

The taxi driver held two long beeps. She edged to the door and opened it, probably a signal to the driver not to leave.

No way she was going yet. “Seriously? You don’t even remember how you humiliated me? How you made me feel like the most disgusting person in the world?” All too well, he remembered. He felt the same way now, seeing the pain he caused her. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was....” A blink couldn’t erase the haunted look in her eyes.

“What?” He couldn’t stand this one more second. He had to know. “Your jock boyfriend put you up to it? Set up the fat boy for everyone to laugh at?”

“Tyson wasn’t fat. A little overweight—”

Defending
me? “A little? Try a hundred and fifty pounds.” Why get so angry at her about it? The weight had been his own doing. Zoe had actually prodded him to do something about it.

“I swear, I never….” At another honk, she leaned out the door. “I’m coming,” she called to the driver. To Ty, she sent a long, sad look. “If you’re really the Tyson I knew then, I swear I never meant to hurt you. If that’s what this is all about, I deserve every bit of it.”

If she admitted she deserved it, she must feel guilty, at least.

Zoe gripped the door handle as if deciding whether to stay or go. “Neither of us is the same person we used to be. You remade yourself on the outside. I just hope, in the process, you didn’t lose all the best parts of yourself on the inside.” More softly, she added, “I really am sorry.”

Hands on his hips, leg jostling in a nervous bounce, he bit his lip to keep from snarling. Whether at her or himself, he didn’t know.

Before he could decide, she slipped outside with a barely whispered, “Bye.”

“Sonofabitch,” he hissed, and stomped to the door.

The taxi maneuvered a K-turn up, its brake lights flashing as it waited for her.

He stepped onto the porch. “Hey!”

Framed in shadow, Zoe’s face appeared in the back window, so full of sorrow he wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss the sadness away.

“Wait.” He jogged across the grass toward the cab but it sped down the driveway, tires squealing as it rounded the gate and took off down the street.

In the darkness of the back seat, Zoe’s mind raced, searching for some trace of what he meant. Ty Hardin, fitness god,
was
the Tyson Hardin from high school? Unbelievable.

All those years ago. They had been different people, totally. Yes, she’d humiliated him, but also herself. The cliché cheerleader dating the football captain. What a joke. Her boyfriend was the loser, not Ty. Sweet Tyson, the only guy who had the balls not to put her on a pedestal. The way he used to call her Golden Girl, she knew her act didn’t fool him. He saw through her, the only one who could.

And you betrayed him
.

She’d put that night out of her mind. Tried to forget everything about it. The old Zoe treated people like dirt, even the one boy who challenged her to be better.

Oh God. She must have hurt him so terribly. Never did she imagine he’d left school because of her.

Wow. Tyson Hardin. She’d never thought she’d see him again. Yes, some classmates teased him about his weight. But look how he’d turned it around. Shed all those pounds, exercised until he’d gotten into amazing shape. Profited from it, too. He lived the good life, surrounded himself with expensive things.

But had he really carried all that anger inside for so long? Against her? It brought goose bumps to her skin, mostly from missing his warmth.

The driver halted the taxi outside her condo. She fished in her handbag for money and handed it over the back of the seat. “Keep the change.”

Someone should get something out of tonight. Long ago, she’d trained herself to find some small bit of good in even the worst situations.

The stone in the walkway bit into her bare feet. She unlocked the condo and stepped inside, glad to be home. Maybe she’d find some peace. She hoped he would, too. Eventually. First, she’d have to stop trying to reconcile the incredible experience he’d given her with the venom he spewed afterward. The complete sense of connectedness with the way he pushed her away, lashed out against her. She’d torture herself if she spent too much time wondering. Wishing it hadn’t happened. Maybe if she wrote him a long note of apology, he’d forgive her. Would any words be enough to comfort him? God, she couldn’t imagine how deeply he must have suffered. All because of her.

A long zip relieved her of the dress, and she jogged upstairs for comfy clothes—yoga pants and a T-shirt.

Back in the front room, her mom and dad smiled from the photo on the shelf. In passing, she stopped to lift it. “Wish you were here. I could use a hug.” She replaced it and continued to the kitchen. Wine would have to suffice, for now. In a big freaking glass.

Music would help. She plugged her phone into the powerful mini-speakers and launched Pandora. Ah yes—Bonnie Raitt. Her gravelly-velvet voice always eased Zoe’s tension.

Some candles might help relax her, too. She lit a few around the front room, plopped onto her sectional, and took a deep breath. How long would she be able to hold onto the condo? Tomorrow, she’d do some hard calculating of her finances.

Tonight, she’d focus on letting go of stress.
And on ways I could make it up to him somehow?

The doorbell chimed. Zoe lowered the music volume; it hadn’t been so loud as to annoy the neighbors, had it?

At a hard knock, she clucked her tongue. “I’m coming.”

Apology at the ready to stave off any complaints, she yanked open the door. “Oh.” More to the point, oh shit.

Ty towered over her. “I need to talk to you.”

How very one-sided of him. “I
don’t
need to talk to you.” Not after tonight’s awful setup. She slammed it shut, nervous fingers fumbling the lock too loudly. The shock of seeing him gave her a chill, and she rubbed her arms.

Another chime, and her heart leapt against her ribs, and fluttered there. “Go away.”

“Not until you talk to me,” he said through the wood. “You owe me that much.”

The hurt of his rejection washed over her again. “For what? No dinner?” Or his failed attempt to ambush her with guilt from the past? Not that Zoe hadn’t been a spoiled bitch then; she had.
And you do owe him an apology
.

“Can we please talk?” he asked.

Everything in her wanted to let him in. But what if he just wanted to hurt her more deeply? God, hadn’t karma made Zoe suffer enough for her stupid choices? “Whatever you have to say, mail it with my dismissal notice.”

“I don’t want to fire you,” he insisted.

He’d had a change of heart? Why? So he could wait for her to make one tiny mistake at the center and make a scene about doing it then? “Fine. I quit.”

“Please don’t. Open up.” A pause. “Please,” he added more softly.

She ignored the old Zoe who questioned his motives, the one cautioning her he only wanted revenge, and opened up. “Why did you come?”

Ty actually looked humble. “To tell you you’re right. I’m a jerk.” He held up the restaurant bag. “A jerk bearing dinner.”

Her stomach grumbled at the reminder. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Wine might help you get your appetite back.” He held up the bottle tucked under his arm.

Or loosen her up again? “You get points for making a good argument, but—”

“Hold that ‘but’ until you hear me out.”

Assessing him, she blew out a long, ragged breath. “You’re right. We need to talk.” Maybe they’d resolve some issues. Yeah, might be easier to resolve global warming. The thought of him harboring such anger for so many years frightened her, but she stepped aside and gestured him in.

He entered and glanced around. “Cool place, I love the atmosphere.”

Zoe arched a brow. “Don’t get too comfortable, cowboy.” All these years, and her chance had arrived to make things right. But she couldn’t surrender the hard-won life she’d built from the ruins of her previous existence.
Probably the same way he feels, except you’re the one who ruined his life
. If he’d let her, she’d try to make it up to him.

His abrupt nod acknowledged her demand.

She nudged the door and it clicked shut like an affirmation. Time for them both to come clean and meet on equal ground.