Page 189 of Handsome Devil
I stared at my husband as the door closed. I could distantly hear the whir of the elevator as it departed, taking his guest down.
I’d stayed out well after dinner, even after Chaz left, just nursing a drink alone at the restaurant bar. Putting off coming home. Reeling over that run-in with the redhead today.
I didn’t like it, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
All I knew was it cracked something open, deep in my foundation. My very tenuous trust in Dane had stretched and snapped under the pressure, that easily. And a whole lot of shit had flooded my mind. Questions about Dane that I couldn’t answer.
We were playing house, pretty damn well so far, and I didn’t even know this man I’d married. Not just his past, but who he was as a person.
How could I trust someone I didn’t even know?
How could I care about someone I couldn’t even trust?
“Good thing you had a heads up,” I said as I tossed off my coat.
“What?”
“Oh, come on. You didn’t clear her out of here because you knew I was coming up in the elevator?”
I walked into the living room and looked at his scotch glass. Next to hers, the one with lipstick on it.
“What are you talking about?” he said.
“What happened to dinner with the boys?”
“I had dinner with the boys.”
“And then a nightcap with some woman in our apartment?”
He didn’t respond to that.
“Are we really doing this?” I turned to face him head on. “If you’re incapable of being honest or something, so be it. But could you not at least be a little more discreet about it? I realize it has to be private. Out of the public eye, right? But that doesn’t mean I want it right in front of my eyes. And in our home.”
Dane’s gaze grew cold, his features hardening as he listened to me.
“I don’t know what you thought that was,” he said slowly, “but it wasn’t—”
“Why haven’t you told me about the sex tape?”
“What about the sex tape?” he said carefully.
“You said you’d tell me about it. But you haven’t. You haven’t said a word to me about it. All I know is what the internet and other people tell me. It’s fucking gross, Dane.”
His jaw flexed. “Well,” he said cooly, “I’m sorry you feel it’s gross that I had a sex life before I married you. There’s really not much I can do about that, Devi.” He came over and picked up his scotch and went to the window, where he stood looking out over the water.
“You think I care that you had a sex life before this? Give me a break. It’s your lies that are gross, Dane.”
He turned to me. “What lies?”
“Let’s start with the present. Like whatever the fuck that just was.”
“Why does it have to be anything?”
“Because the last time I checked, you had a hell of a thing for statuesque blondes.”
“Really,” he said flatly.
“You remember your infamous grad date in high school? And Tina, the woman you almost married? They were practically doppelgängers.”
