Page 52 of Beneath the Blindfold

As soon as he was out of the way, she shoved the door open and fled.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “She’s pissed.”

Yeah, no shit.“Can you walk with her to the train station? Make sure no one bothers her.” My club wasn’t exactly in a nice part of town.

“You got it.”

He disappeared out the door, leaving me alone in the boring-looking entryway, and I put my hands on my hips. I was more fucked up now than I’d been when I got here, worried about Courtney going out with someone else.

I hated the lying. I hated how I’d hurt her.

But I was going to make it right. I just needed a motherfucking plan.

SEVEN

COURTNEY

I didn’t answer Julius’s texts or calls during the weekend. Whenever I thought about him, I see-sawed between anger and hurt. I got that Tariq had been Julius’s friend first, but how could he not tell me something so . . .huge?

Julius’s silence was deafening.

Six months ago, Tariq got drunk after an away game and he’d thought he was texting his driver to pick him up from some random chick’s place. Instead, he’d been texting me. I remember the moment with horrifying clarity as I looked at my phone and read it. My husband bragged about the nasty pussy he’d gotten in two texts that were so full of spelling errors, some words were gibberish.

Autocorrect gave up on him, and that night, I finally did too.

He’d cheated on me when we were dating, but I’d foolishly believed he’d change, and forgave him. But Tariq was always going to be who he was, and he didn’t apologize for it, either. He’d come home from the trip and before I let him say a word, I announced we were getting a divorce.

His gaze left mine and dropped down to his expensive Italian shoes. “I can’t be with just one girl, Nene,” he said, using his nickname for me that I tolerated, but never really liked. “I tried, but I ain’t built that way.”

It was a bullshit excuse, and I told him so as he left.

We never had kids, thank God. He wanted them, and I did too, but things got rocky a while back after he’d torn his ACL and couldn’t play the rest of the season. A baby would only make the strain on our marriage worse. If I got pregnant, I’d never leave him, and deep down I knew I needed to. We weren’t meant for each other.

I was a fool, but not stupid.

I knew the night of the drunken texts wasn’t the first time Tariq had been unfaithful, but hearing he’d been a club regular for years . . . I felt shattered all over again. Who else knew? Were the other players and their wives laughing at clueless Courtney, who was too dumb to know her husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants? That he’d willingly pay to fuck other women, rather than sleep with his own wife?

What did Julius think of me?

He’d been so angry on my behalf when I’d broken down and showed him the texts. He’d been the one to suggest Kyle McCreary as an attorney when I told him I’d asked Tariq for a divorce. He’d said I deserved so much better than Tariq.

Julius was right about that.

I deserved a guy who I could trust, and those were apparently in short supply these days.

Sunday afternoon was spent in the gym, where I could send his calls rolling in to voicemail while I tried to climb away my feelings on the stair machine. I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. He was my friend, and I wasn’t going to throw our entire friendship away over what he’d kept from me, but I wasn’t happy, and I needed to get the point across.

My legs were rubber as I got home and dragged myself into the shower. Afterward, I cinched my hair up in a towel, pulled on a pair of old cheerleading sweats, and started thinking about options for dinner. I didn’t have the desire to order out, but was feeling too lazy to make something—

A knock on my front door made me nearly jump out of my skin.

I treaded slowly to the door and raised up on my toes to look through the peep hole, but I already suspected who it was. I sighed loudly as I opened the door and glared up at him, only to have the air cut off in my lungs.

Julius’s suit was midnight blue. He had a simple white dress shirt beneath the coat and a gold-striped tie. I still wasn’t used to seeing him in suits, and this one . . . he looked amazing in it. Every bit the man who’d given me the best orgasms of my life, and hadn’t asked for anything in return.

Well, that probably wasn’t true. He was likely here to ask my forgiveness.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I said flatly.

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