Page 50 of Dash

Trev rolled behind me and set his brake next to the bench. Placing my cane on my lap, I leaned forward, perched my elbows on my knees, and sighed. “All these years, she thought I cheated on her.”

“You? Cheating on her? Ha!” Trev’s eyebrows climbed to the top of his forehead. “Are you serious?”

“Totally serious.”

“You cheating on her is not possible. It’s not how you’re built.”

“I know, right?” I rubbed my face. “And yet…”

“It was her father,” Trev guessed, having known Richard Astor almost as well as I had. “He set you up before he set his own daughter up.”

I growled my assent.

“Son of a bitch.” Trev’s biceps bulged as his hands squeezed his rims. “The fucker finally got his way.”

“Thena should’ve known better.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘maybe?’” The alarm on the face of a waiter passing by forced me to lower my voice. “She knew her father. Hell, she knew me. She should’ve known.”

“Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.” Trev shook his head. “Those three always mess things up. Was she even in the right mental state to process the shit that happened?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” My knuckles crackled. “She.Doubted.Me.”

“Oh, I see.” He made a show of looking away, but all his attention was on me. “So now you’re God, indisputable and all knowing.”

I sat up straight.

“Is your ginormous pride driving this bus?” he asked, ignoring my glare. “Or is your gigantic sense of honor so wounded that you can’t see what’s in front of you? Nix had just died. Thena was vulnerable. Her father was a dick. You were not at your best. Pride, honor, and outrage are a terrible combination for a man with something to prove.”

“I don’t have anything to prove,” I shot back.

“You did back then,” Trev reminded me of the truth. “You’re such a square peg, you may still be at it.”

“I’mnota square peg,” I ground out.

“Sorry, dude, but you’re the squarest square peg I know.” Trev shrugged. “Nothing wrong with right angles, other than the fact they don’t bend well. Or at all.”

“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m psycho-rigid?”

“Youarepsycho-rigid.” Trev lifted his hands in the air. “Come on, man. For the last few years, you’ve been holding on so hard to your four equal sides and your four equal angles, that there’s no give in your polygon. No flex whatsoever.”

Shit. I fisted my hands. “You may have grown up to be a square like me if you’d grown up in Richard Astor’s world and if you’d been his designated charity case half your life.”

He had the temerity to roll his eyes at me. “Are you still letting the old man define you?”

“He’s never defined me,” I bit out.

“Maybe, but he sure as hell defined who you were not gonna be.”

“Druid,” I barked. “What the fuck?”

“You’ve proved your worth. You’ve made your money.You’ve come all the way around back to Thena and yet you’re still snarling, simmering, and pouting.”

Fuck. “I don’t pout.”

“If I had a mirror, I’d prove you wrong right now.” Trev lifted his eyebrows and asked. “Are your pride, honor, and integrity so deeply aggrieved that you’ve forgotten we all make mistakes?”

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