Beyond the Seduction Page 20

  “And now you’re avoiding again.” She exhaled into the receiver. “Let Kyran and me help you.”

  “Why do we have to talk about this now? I’m busy. You’re busy.” He’d try anything to get her off his back right now.

  “I’m talking about this now because you can’t ignore me or walk out of the room. You can hang up, but you know I’d keep calling you until it drove you crazy. Just answer me one question, and then I’ll leave you alone to tea parties with my daughter.” Trace gave a noncommittal grunt. “Do you have feelings for her? Do you love Shae?”

  His heart leapt at the utterance of her name. It was futile lying to Dale. She was worse than a bloodhound tracking a scent. His sister wouldn’t let this conversation drop until she got the truth. “Yes,” he said, relieved by his admission. “Yeah, I love her. I keep choosing the wrong damn women, don’t I?”

  He heard his sister mumble, followed by Kyran’s deep chuckle. She spoke before he could say anything further. “Shae’s not Emmie. She’s right when she says you’re both broken. Personally, I think you’d be great for one another. Once each of you deals with your issues and accepts your feelings for one another.”

  “Okay, Dr. Phil. Thanks for that,” he responded, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Is your advice charged at the going rate, or do I get a discount because I’m family?”

  “Ignoring you again. You should listen to what people say to you. Shit, Trace, even your girlfriend is telling you that you need fixing before it’ll work between the two of you. Kyran and I—”

  “Don’t,” he snapped. Ella looked up at him, scowling as she climbed the steps to the front door of his sister’s house. He patted her shoulder, lowering his tone again. “I don’t need the story of how you two solved your problems and lived happily ever after. I’ve heard it. Numerous times. And Shae isn’t my girlfriend.”

  “If you figure your shit out, she can be. You love her. Isn’t she worth working through your emotions about Tate?”

  He tried another distraction. “Can we stop talking about this now? You’re supposed to be spending time with your husband. You wouldn’t want Kyran beating on me because I took his wife away, would you? I expect his plans don’t include you bitching at me.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! All I’m trying to do is help you see what’s in front of you. Shae’s right when she says you both have things to get over. I keep repeating that because you aren’t hearing it. Sort it out, then go and make the woman smile again.” She muttered something he couldn’t decipher. “It’s up to you. But if you keep fixating on the past, your future will walk right out of your life.”

  “She already did. Drop it, D. Go back to your husband. Ella and I are doing great. Enjoy your time with Kyran.”

  Dale groaned and attempted to talk to him again. Trace cut her off, repeating that she should go and spend the time with her husband.

  “Fine. You win. For now. Tell Ella I love her and no treats before bed.”

  “Yup. Got it. Bye.”

  Dale snorted as she hung up, leaving him staring at her daughter with the dial tone in his ear. “Your mom says I have to feed you. But nothing sweet. What don’t you like?”

  Ella cocked her head to the side, a little scowl appearing between her brows. “Huh?”

  Smiling, Trace patted her on the head and led her into the kitchen. “Nothing, princess. I was teasing. What do you want for dinner? I expect your mom left lots of vegetables.”

  “Ergh,” Ella said, wrinkling her nose before sticking her tongue out.

  “Yeah, not so nice. Tell you what, can you keep a secret? If you can then I’ll order us some great food. Okay?”

  Ella cheered, jumping up and down as she clapped her hands.

  “It’s a secret, though. Your mom would go crazy and shout at me if she finds out.” He placed his fingers over his lips and shushed her.

  “Secret.”

  “Yes, our secret. Now let’s call for more food and wash our hands.”

  Ella high-fived him and raced off leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts. He considered what Dale had said to him, and even though he disliked her for agreeing with Shae, he knew both women were right. No relationship could function and move forward while both parties were so raw. They wouldn’t heal their scars. They’d tear them clean open and make them worse.

  He could admit he wanted a future with Shae Bennett, though the thought of sifting through the shitload of emotion he held deep within him wasn’t something he relished. He didn’t want to work through it without Shae, but knew she was not strong enough to take his past on board while still coping with her own. Nevertheless, it didn’t mean he had to do it alone. Dale and Kyran wanted to be there for him.

  Tomorrow, he would let them.

  Tomorrow, he would cut the ties that held his past so close.

  Chapter 25

  Shae rubbed her eyes before tossing her purse onto the floor. The dance studio smelled stale and dusty. It had been closed now for almost two months. Only Trace opened the front door so that he could climb the stairs to his apartment. The door to her dance hall had been closed, void of music, laughter and children’s giggles.

  The room was hollow without those noises. It was wrong.

  Guilt knotted in her stomach. It was her fault the room was empty. She’d closed the door because she no longer had the energy to make other people smile when all she wanted to do was hide from the world and cry. After weeks of doing exactly that, she was sure she had no tears left.

  The room wasn’t the only thing that felt hollow.

  Moving farther in, she sank down and sat in the center of the room. Memories assaulted her, her mom in each and every one of them. Shae never realized a person could miss another one so much. It was as though her heart had been dug out with a rusty spoon, leaving a bloody, weeping hole in its wake. She couldn’t grasp that she’d never see her mom again, and that made her chest hurt more.

  Her life had now been split into before and after, her memories divided into the two categories. It didn’t just apply to her mom. Before the accident, she spoke to her father and could force herself into believing he cared. At times. Now she saw him for who he was, and felt foolish for still holding out the hope that he’d change. A huge line had been drawn under their relationship, one that she would never cross again.

  Then there was Trace. Before there had been hope for him, too. Shae had started to believe they were changing into something great. They got along so well and were compatible in ways she’d wished for with others. There had been no confusion. They had been more . . . until his past kept blocking their way forward.

  Now she was the wall between them.

  Groaning, she shoved her fingers through her hair and held her head in her hands. Before her life had been simple, though she’d never appreciated how much. A rewind button on her life would be awesome right now, or even a pause one. Dealing with her mother’s finances, along with the funeral planning and costs, had been difficult. Added to that, she’d done it alone.

  In truth, that had been the hardest part to deal with. There was no one there for her now. No one looking out for her, making sure she ate, washed, and got home on time. Shae was alone, and that hurt. Being an adult didn’t stop the pain. She didn’t need someone to tell her how to function. She just needed . . . someone.

  This left her questioning whether her feelings for Trace were real. He’d been her comfort blanket when no one else was. He’d helped her every step of the way and supported her when she thought she might break. It had been far too hard for her to end it all, but what choice did she have when he was still hung up on someone else?

  Whether Trace admitted it or not, he had some seriously unresolved feelings when it came to Emmie and Tatum. Calling time-out to what they had growing had been her way of moving forward.

  She missed him and had dialed his number so many times over the last few weeks. She’d never spoken to him. She had no idea what she wanted to say, so she’d hung up.
Trace had called her four times, leaving a message for her each time. He always asked how she was, always asked her to call him back. She never did. Not that he knew of, anyway.

  His sister had called her, too. Listening to her, Shae heard the concern Dale had for her brother, and she’d been surprised to hear that Trace had met up with his ex. Dale stated that he’d started to come to terms with what the woman had done to him. That revelation made Shae happier knowing Trace could move on.

  She wished she could do the same.

  Bringing her knees up to her chest, she rested her forehead on the top of them and closed her eyes. She inhaled, taking the scent of the dance studio deep into her lungs. It calmed her, gave her a balance that she’d been missing since her mom had . . . gone.

  Shae still couldn’t verbalize her passing.

  “Shae?”

  Lifting her head at the sound of her name, Shae met those blue eyes that she knew so well. “Trace.” His name came out on an exhale. She sounded relieved, and she questioned whether he was what she’d needed and the reason she’d come to the studio in the first place.

  He walked into the room, placing his brown paper bag of groceries by the door. Stalking forward, and never breaking eye contact, he came closer to her before sinking to the floor in front of her. Her bottom lip wobbled, the threat of tears clogging her throat, and when he reached out and linked his fingers with hers, she almost lost it. They mirrored one another, crossing their legs as their hands locked together. The temptation was there to hold on too tight, to keep him close this time.

  “I called you today.” His voice washed over her, the effect on her body startling. Her heart began to pound when she’d been certain it had stopped with her mom’s. “I’ve called you on so many occasions.”

  “Why?” Such a ridiculous question, but the words were already out.

  His fingers tightened around hers. It was a fleeting moment. “I-I wanted to hear your voice. We used to talk all the time. And now . . . nothing.”

  “My life’s still pretty fucked up.”

  His eyes softened, as did his tone. “Babe, I know. I wanted to talk to you because of that. Shit, we had our problems, but it feels really fucking bad to leave you to do this alone. We’ve left so much unfinished. Unresolved.”

  She could do without his sympathy, and because of that, her response had bite. “I wouldn’t allow you to hang around just because of some warped sense of obligation. Maybe it is unresolved, but I didn’t have the energy to sort it out.”

  Trace shook his head, and this time he clutched her hands tighter. “You weren’t—aren’t, an obligation. We had movement, babe. I felt it.”

  “It’s called sex.”

  His top lip curled as he said, “Being facetious doesn’t suit you, Shae. You know what I meant—we were making changes.”

  “No, Trace, no.” Looking at the wood floor, she broke their eye contact. “You were going around in a circle, and I’d hit a wall. We were going nowhere. And we were never meant to. We should have stopped after that first night. Neither of us was prepared for more.”

  “You’re wrong. What we needed was time. What I needed.”

  He let go of her hand, lifting his to cup her jaw. The touch had goose bumps sprinkling her arms and her eyes fluttering closed. She’d missed his touch so much. A small caress from him had always illuminated her body. The reaction hadn’t changed from their time apart. “Two months isn’t enough time.”

  “Says who?”

  “I do because I’m still raw and bleeding. I still feel like my heart has been cut out.”

  He kept his hand on her jaw, though his thumb started to stroke her cheek. “My loss wasn’t a death, babe. Comparing the two is wrong. Yours is deep and will take years to heal. Mine is something I can control, as long as I remember it wasn’t my fault and that someday I can have it all again, but it will be real. Not some fake story thought up to cover a lie.”

  Shae didn’t buy it. “So you’re saying the fact that you technically lost a child doesn’t upset you anymore? I call bullshit.”

  Trace smirked, his eyes twinkling with humor.

  Her spine stiffened. “What’s so funny?”

  His tongue darted out, lapping at his bottom lips as a single finger replaced his hand. He stroked it along her jaw, still grinning at her. “You. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

  “It’s not amusing, Trace. I’m serious, why doesn’t it bother you anymore?”

  When she pushed back from him, he let her go, leaving her cold. Shae suppressed a shiver.

  “It bothers me. Jesus Christ, I’m not stone, of course it does. I’ve talked to Dale a lot—Kyran, too. They’ve helped me get my head around the entire issue. I tried talking to some therapist, but that shit is not for me. Instead, time and family help me. When I’m feeling messed up, I call Dale. Or Kyran. I’m not there . . . but I’m on my way. It’s not going to go away, but I’m trying to move on. The fact that Emmie moved some guy into her place last month also helps. I meant jack to her. I was just someone who would pay her bills.” He shook his head. “I’ve been calling you to ask how you were doing. I mean, I could see the studio was still closed, so my question was answered. But I had to hear it from you.”

  “I’d rather talk about your stuff. I don’t know what you want to hear,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest.

  “The truth coming out of your mouth. You’ve avoided me for weeks, and I left you alone because it was the right thing to do. Now I’m putting an end to that. You need someone, Shae.”

  “I’m dealing. I’m good.”

  “You’re a bad liar.” He shuffled his butt along the floor, closing the gap between them. “I gave you space because you wanted it. Right from the start, it was something that felt wrong to me, but my head was fucked up so I gave it to you. I couldn’t cut all ties—that’s why I kept calling you. They went unanswered. So I brought in my sister. I needed to know you had someone, even if that wasn’t me.”

  “That’s why she wanted to meet me?”

  Trace hummed, his lips turning down at the ends before he spoke. “You refused. You wouldn’t even accept her offering of help. Why?”

  A stabbing began at the back of her throat, her eyes beginning to sting. The answer to that question had played and replayed around her head on a continual loop since the day the doctor walked into the hospital room. She couldn’t let go of it, no matter how much she tried to process circumstances. Each thought brought her back to the same answer—the same fact. Her voice broke when she verbalized it. “It was my fault.”

  Trace blinked, his head rearing back. “What?”

  “My mom. It was my fault.”

  He tried to touch her. She watched his hand stretch between them, and she couldn’t allow it. Shae pulled her shoulder back and faced the wall of mirrors.

  “How the hell can it be your fault? Shae, she fell. It was no more your issue than it was your father’s. Or mine.” He paused, his brows knitting. “Wait a minute, is that what’s eating you, besides the grief? You blame yourself? Babe, please tell me you’re not whipping yourself stupid, telling yourself that she wouldn’t have died if you’d have been there. Please.”

  She shook her head, swallowing past the large lump in her throat. Glancing at their reflection, she could see his hand hovering in the air over her shoulder. He wanted to touch her but her body language was telling him to stay away. His comfort would be pretty amazing right now, but what right did she have allowing herself some happiness when her mom was gone?

  Unable to answer him, she remained silent and hugged her knees closer. Trace wasn’t about to drop it. He scooted across the floor until he was in front of her, placing his hands on each of her shoulders. He shook her lightly. “Talk to me, damn it! Tell me. Tell me I haven’t stayed away from you two months while you beat yourself up.”

  His cool anger bit into her composure, and piece by piece, she shattered. The tears dropped free, her chest heaving. She gasped for brea
th as the reality struck her dead center—her heart. “I knew sh-she was s-sick. I shouldn’t h-have gone anywh-where. She died be-because I left her alone.”

  “And that’s why you’re isolating yourself now?” He held her face between his hands, his grip firm and strong. He balanced her.

  “You had . . . stuff. I had stuff. W-we are bad for each other.” She sniffed.

  “No. No way.” His grip tightened, but it didn’t scare her. In fact, it gave her strength. It gave her the smallest drop of hope. “We need each other.”

  “We’ve been apart two months and neither one of us has suffered.”

  “Another lie. And they’re getting more transparent not less.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m going to take a risk and admit that I’ve done shit without you.”

  “No you haven’t. I spoke to Dale. You’re doing well and sorting through the Emmie thing. Don’t make out like you’ve needed me. I know you haven’t.” She glared at him. “I know, Trace.”

  “You don’t know—”

  Tearing herself away, she stood up, ignoring her wobbly legs and trembling knees. “No! You don’t know anything. You haven’t been here! You don’t have the right to tell me it wasn’t my fault, or that I can get over it. You have no idea what this feels like, or what I’m going through. Two months is nothing. Not a goddamn thing.”

  Trace gawked, probably stunned by her aggression.

  “I didn’t ask you to come here. I’ve stayed away because it’s the right thing. You should do the same. Go.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, and when he stayed in the room, Shae raised her voice. “I don’t want you, Trace. Go!”

  Chapter 26

  Trace recoiled. He’d expected many emotions from Shae but anger toward him, along with her self-hatred, were not included. It was shock and surprise at her attitude that had him pulling away and standing up. His temperature rose, leaving his skin red and hot.

  He stalked back over to the door, bending to collect his shopping when he heard her sniffle. His heart cracked. Trace fucking hated hearing her cry. He wanted to make things better for her, make her grieving a little less painful, but the hate and guilt she had for herself was making her block everyone out. Shae wasn’t allowing anyone to get close to her. Right now, she was her own worst enemy, and he had no clue how to get through to her. He’d stayed away, giving her just what she wanted—what he thought she’d needed. However, that plan had gotten them nothing except further misery. They were going about this situation all wrong.