Of course, Ambi was right in her element. She threw a kettle on the stove and indicated the table. There were four different chairs surrounding it, all upholstered beasts that he had a fuck ton of trouble pulling out without the quilt dropping off. When he plunked down in a black brocade chair which was extremely uncomfortable and thrust a spring right into his left ass cheek, she set a steaming mug of mint tea in front of him.
So, she’d made good on her word.
God, he hated tea. He hated all tea, but he knew Ambi loved it. She didn’t drink coffee. Never did. She was a true tea granny through and through.
“I like the place,” Trey said awkwardly, while he tried not to inhale the minty vapors coming from the mug in front of him.
“Thanks.” She pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. She thumped a water bottle on the table and added a good portion to her half-full mug. It was something she always did. Added cold water so she could drink her tea right away without waiting for it to cool.
It was amazing how five years hadn’t changed her at all. She’d accomplished and found everything she wanted. All without him.
If that wasn’t humbling, he didn’t know what was.
“It’s nice. Your style. The brick. The wood beams. The décor. The tub. It’s everything you ever described.”
“Yeah.” She took a big gulp of tea. “And my office is right below so it’s really convenient. Thanks for making it possible, you know, with your twenty grand and the amazing reference you’re going to give me to ensure I can keep affording the rent on the place. I haven’t told Mom about Mexico yet, but when I do, I know she’s going to be thrilled.”
Underneath her acerbic words, spoken with way too much sweetness for him to mistake her intent, was a big fucking guilt trip. She was basically flipping the bird right in his face without raising a hand at all.
“Look… I’m here to make peace. I wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything. God…” Trey reached up and ran a hand through his wet hair. He removed it, but not before spraying water droplets all over the place. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to call and tell you that. Text. Email. Send a fucking letter. Do something. Anything.”
Ambi’s one eyebrow curled a little at that. “Yeah?” Her hand paused on the handle of her mug. She didn’t pick it off the table. Instead, she nailed him with a direct gaze that was so full of emotion he couldn’t begin to get his head on straight enough to unravel the mystery of it. “Then why didn’t you?”
CHAPTER 10
Amberina
Trey in her apartment wasn’t a good idea. Trey soaking wet, sitting three feet away, very naked under a quilt that was trying its best to fall off, was a terrible, terrible idea. As in, the Worst.
The problem was, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase the memories of their time together. She’d lied about that. About not remembering. About forcing herself to forget. She remembered it all. Every single detail. She wanted to peel back that quilt and find the scar on Trey’s left pec, compliments of when he fell out of a tree when he was six. A branch caught him and cut him, leaving him with a two-inch scar that hadn’t faded as he grew up.
She wanted to see how five years had changed him, if at all. She didn’t care if he was still cut or as broad or ridiculously chiseled, veiny, and delicious. She could pretty much see that he was all of those things, even with the quilt covering everything but his arms. His arms. God, his arms.
Those arms, with their sinful golden skin, their bulging muscles at the top and the striated longer ones at the forearms, the corded ropes of veins that traversed it all and the crisp dark hairs… they were good enough to rip off and eat. They’d probably be an extremely delicious accompaniment to mint tea.
That was the problem.
Trey was the problem.
She hadn’t forgotten. Any of it. It hadn’t died with time. She couldn’t will it away no matter how hard she tried, and damn it, she’d really, really tried. The thing about hatred and rage was that it was too potent and powerful and close to other really extreme feelings and emotions. Like lust. Like desire. Like- well- like like. She couldn’t even think of any other L words.
Trey cleared his throat and she remembered that she’d asked him a question.
“Well,” he said gruffly. “I- I guess I thought that- that- you’d wait.”
“Wait?” Ambi snorted. “Wait?” God. It was a good thing that Trey was so good at killing her feelings for him. She didn’t even have to do it on her own anymore. “You just thought that I’d wait for you? For five years?”