Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

comforting hand down his biceps. “That doesn’t mean you’re lacking.”
    “I don’t know how to live with this.”
    “Would you consider counseling? With both of you, I mean.”
    He looked at me with haunted eyes for a long minute; then his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. I think I have to decide if I can live with him cheating. Could you do it, Eva? Could you sit at home waiting for your man, knowing he was sticking it somewhere else?”
    “No.” An icy shiver coursed through me at the mere words. “No, I couldn’t.”
    “And I don’t even know if Cary would agree to counseling. He keeps pushing me away. He wants me, and then he doesn’t. He’s committed, and then he isn’t. I want in, Eva, like he’s let you in, but he keeps shutting me out.”
    “It took me a long time to break through to him. He tried pushing me away with sex, always coming on to me, taunting me. I think you made the right decision keeping it platonic on Friday. Cary puts his value on his looks and sex appeal. You need to show him that it’s not just his body you want.”
    Trey sighed and crossed his arms. “Is that how you two got close? Because you wouldn’t sleep with him?”
    “Partly. Mostly it’s because I’m a mess. It’s not as obvious now as it was when we met, but he knows I’m not perfect.”
    “Neither am I! Who is?”
    “He believes you’re better than he is, that you deserve better.” I grinned. “Me . . . well, I bet part of him thinks I deserve him. That we deserve each other.”
    “Crazy fucker,” he muttered.
    “He is that,” I agreed. “That’s why we love him, isn’t it? Do you want to go in and see him? Or do you want to go home and think about it?”
    “No, I want to see him.” Trey’s shoulders rolled back and his chin lifted. “I don’t care what put him here. I want to be with him while he’s going through this.”
    “I’m glad to hear that.” I linked my arm with his and led him to Cary’s room.
    We entered to the sound of my mother’s trilling, girlish laughter. She sat on the edge of the bed, with Cary smiling adoringly at her. She was as much a mother to him as she was to me, and he loved her so much for that. His own mother had hated him, abused him, and allowed others to abuse him.
    He looked over and saw us, and the emotions that swept across his face in that moment caused a tightness in my chest. I heard Trey’s breath catch as he got his first sight of Cary’s condition. I kicked myself for not telling him in advance not to make the mistake of getting weepy like I had.
    Trey cleared his throat. “Drama queen,” he said with gruff affection. “If you wanted flowers, you should’ve just asked for them. This is extreme.”
    “And ineffective, apparently,” Cary rejoined hoarsely, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I don’t see any flowers.”
    “I see a ton.” Trey’s gaze did a brief slide across the room, then went back to Cary. “Just wanted to see what I was up against, so I could beat out my competition.”
    There was no way to miss the double meaning in that statement.
    My mom rose from the bed. She leaned over and kissed Cary’s cheek. “I’ll take Eva out to breakfast. We’ll see you in about an hour or so.”
    “Gimme a sec,” I said, passing the bed quickly, “and I’ll get out of your hair, guys.”
    I grabbed my phone and charger out of my bag and plugged it into an outlet by the window.
    As soon as the screen flickered to life, I sent a quick group text message to Shawna and my dad, saying simply:
I’ll call later.
Then I made sure my phone was silenced and left it on the window ledge.
    “Ready?” my mom asked.
    “As I’ll ever be.”

Chapter 13
     
    I had to get up before dawn Tuesday morning. I left a note for Cary where he’d see it as soon as he woke up, then headed out to grab a cab back to our place. I showered, dressed, made coffee, and tried to talk myself out of feeling like something was off. I was stressed and suffering from lack of sleep, which always led to tiny bouts of depression.
    I told myself that it had nothing to do with Gideon, but the knot in my stomach said differently.
    Looking at the clock, I saw it was a little after eight. I’d have to leave soon, because Gideon hadn’t called or texted to say that he’d be giving me a ride. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him or even really talked to him. The call I’d made to him at nine the night before had been