Games People Play by Shelby Reed

Author:Shelby Reed [Reed, Shelby]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781101609767
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2013-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It was time to stop the game.

He stood beneath the hot beat of the water and showered off a sleepless night as the realization rolled through him yet again. Time to admit defeat and ride out the remaining week with the single, clinging shred of decency left in him—the one part of him that cared more for Sydney than made sense. What did losing the extra money Max had promised really matter? It hadn’t existed in the beginning. Colm would still be walking away with the payment he’d counted on since the beginning. Win or lose, he had his cut, and it wasn’t exactly modest for two weeks’ work with no real effort involved.

Ah, who was he kidding? It was more effort, more torture, than he’d ever experienced. His heart ached in a way he couldn’t explain. His body ached in a way he could. And the worst of it was that Sydney made him want to start from scratch and remake himself, regain what he used to be. He laughed at the futility of it and cut off the water hard enough to make the pipes knock inside the wall.

When he slipped into the studio an hour later, Sydney wasn’t there yet. He wandered around, examining her supplies, noting for the first time the orderliness amid the paint-splattered cans and containers lined on the table and simple wall shelves. He sat on her barstool, whirled around a few times, looked at the brushes staggered in an old latex paint can, at the blank canvases stacked in a corner, at the half-finished ones leaned in another. He breathed deep and knew he would never again encounter the scent of mineral spirits and oils and acrylics without remembering a somber, leggy blonde with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

The studio door opened. He spun on the barstool and found Sydney on the ramp, watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Hi,” he said.

She wandered down to where he sat and stopped a couple of feet away. He thought she would speak, but she just looked at him, her blue eyes wide and uncertain.

His brows drew down. “What’s wrong?”

“Max’s flight arrives this afternoon. He’s coming home early.”

Colm swiveled away, toward the easel, where his portrait sat half covered with a stained cloth. “Does it matter? We still have a few days left.”

At her indrawn breath, he closed his eyes. Here it comes.

“Colm, I’m letting you go.”

Colm, it’s over. Colm, go back to your life and lose me forever.

“Why?” he asked finally, toying with the edge of the cloth covering his portrait. “Why let me go early when you still have several canvases to do before your next show?”

“I can take photos of you today, before Max gets home, and work from those. I think I’ve got you enough in my head to easily summon your image.”

“Yeah?” A rueful grin tugged at the edges of his mouth. “That goes both ways.”

Silence fell between them, and then she said, “It’s nothing personal.”

“Bullshit, Sydney.”

Her face flushed. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said bullshit.

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