Home > Filthy Beautiful Love (Filthy Beautiful Lies #2)(3)

Filthy Beautiful Love (Filthy Beautiful Lies #2)(3)
Author: Kendall Ryan

His hand on my skin sends a flash of heat through me at the memory of what those hands can do. He’s still the only man who’s made me come. I shudder as though the memory singes some part of me.

I hear a wave of girly laughter behind the door. It warms me to hear Becca enjoying herself, and it grounds me in the moment.  Turning to face Colton again, I draw a deep, calming breath. "Do you love her?"

"No." His voice is sure, steady. "I never loved her like I should have."

My shoulders relax just slightly. Even if my body wants to run, and my head is screaming at me to flee, my heart has grown attached to this man. And for better or worse, part of me needs to hear him out, to understand this messy situation I’ve found myself in. Maybe if I can make sense of it, then I can move on.

"Please let me explain, that’s all I’m asking." He raises his palms in a placating gesture.

I’ve never seen him look so devastated and broken. Dark circles line his eyes and he hasn’t shaved in days. Even though I’ve agreed to hear him out, a wave of nausea washes through me. Am I prepared to handle whatever he’s about to tell me? I fasten one hand against the wall for support. "I just need a minute…"

He releases a heavy exhale and I swear what looks like regret washes over his features.  "I will give you all the time you need, sweetness," he whispers.

The nickname against his lips presses like a weight onto my chest. My heart feels heavy, thudding dully against my ribcage.

Another fit of Becca’s giggles greet us from behind the door.

"He’s probably trying to de-pants her," Colton says.

"I don’t think she’d mind much."

"Should we check on our siblings while we’re giving you a minute?"

I nod. We might as well. I don’t think I’m ready to hear the entire sordid tale about how the man I was falling for is married and by the sounds of it, not necessarily planning to divorce. A stiff drink might help ease some of this ache in my chest too.

Back inside the cramped hotel room, Becca and Pace are standing near the open windows, deep in conversation. I’ve never seen her look so happy and chipper. She’s openly flirting and preening like a peacock, twirling a lock of hair around her finger and smiling up at him brightly. Our vacation is about to get a lot more interesting.

Realizing we’re back in the room, Becca turns to me. "Soph, did you know Pace spent a semester studying here in Rome? He’s going to take me sightseeing – show me all the best spots that aren't in those travel guides we bought."

So much for kicking Pace and Colton out. This was supposed to be a girl’s trip, but I won’t deny Becca anything, and I can tell she’d love to spend more time in Pace’s company. It’s that damn crooked grin and dimple of his that just beg you to come out and play.

"How did you know where I was?" I ask Colton.

"Kylie," he confirms.

I’d started working with Kylie at Colton’s charity organization a few days a week and it didn’t feel right to leave her hanging. And while I’d only intended to tell her that I would be out of town for a while, she somehow got me to spill the beans about my trip to Rome.

"When did you get here?" he asks.

"Last night." It’s almost noon, but with the jetlag and the wine we consumed last night, Becca and I haven’t unpacked a thing. It’s actually a small miracle we’re up and showered.

"I assume you haven’t had lunch yet. Let’s get you something to eat and I’ll explain everything." He turns to my sister who is for some reason squeezing Pace’s bicep while he grins adoringly down at her. "Pace, Becca, how about a quick bite to eat before you start your sightseeing?"

"I’m game," Pace says.

"Me too," Becca chimes in, grabbing her purse.

I want to sulk and stomp my feet and refuse to go, but denying myself food seems like a childish way to punish him. "There’s room service." I nod toward the menu sitting on top of the dresser.

"No way we’re sitting inside the room all day, Soph," Becca encourages. "Come on, it’s just lunch."

I shoot her a scowl. Traitor. I make a mental note to not be so nice to her. Like saving her some hot water for her shower this morning–that was a one-time deal. She might think she’s helping by interfering with me and Colt, but she’s not.

I gather up my belongings, my purse, sunglasses and the Euros I changed over before we left the airport, and follow the group to the elevator. This should be interesting.

Chapter Two

Sophie

The sidewalk café is beautiful and understated. Black wrought iron tables and chairs with fluffy wine-colored cushions, and ivy growing along a little trellis that separates the street from the sidewalk café complete the space. It’s sunny and clear with blue skies overhead, but not too warm, and I find it hard to hold onto my sour mood.

Colton suggests a white wine from a local vineyard and when it arrives, I’ve never tasted anything quite so light, crisp and refreshing. His impeccable taste is just one more thing that’s easy to love about him. But I can’t go there. Won’t. My body has already betrayed me by springing to life when he’s near, like when he helped me into my chair and his hand brushed against my lower back. It left my skin tingling. And when he slid out the chair across from me, his tall, commanding presence caused a little flutter in my chest. I need to keep myself in check.

His eyes roam over my exposed skin–my bare shoulders peeking from the tank top–and my chest and neck flush with heat.

I’m glad our siblings are picking up the slack when it comes to making conversation, because Colton and I remain completely silent. Small talk doesn’t seem to fit my mood and I’d have no idea what to say regardless. They chatter away without a care in the world while Colton and I exchange serious looks.

"So how long are you guys here?" Becca asks.

"Depends," Pace says.

"On?" I challenge. As far as I’m concerned, Colton has made his point, showing up here in some masculine display to claim his property. He can piss off now, thank you very much.

Colton’s sad eyes slide over to mine. "I want a chance," he says, his voice dark.

A chance to explain, or a chance with me? I’m thankful for the large wraparound sunglasses that shield my eyes from his.

"Isn’t that what she gave you all those weeks in LA?" Becca asks, coming to my rescue.

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