His to Love (His #3)

Chapter 45

"So, what did I miss out while I was gone?" Damien asks when we've both almost cleared our plates. Damien prepared a tomato salad with tuna and chicken breasts. It's simple and light, yet very delicious. I probably wouldn't be able to stomach any other food. My stomach is in knots just because I'm in his presence.

I shrug. "Nothing much." And that's the whole truth. Not much has changed since he left, my life pretty much stayed the same, except I was a mess because I missed him so much. He doesn't need to know that, though. 

"Was that dickhead the only guy you dated?" Damien wants to know. It doesn't escape my notice how stern his tone becomes, almost demanding me to answer him. 

My eyebrows arch. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes." 

Damien seems to relax a bit. "You loved him?" he asks tightly.

I sit back on the chair, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Does it matter?" We're swimming in dangerous waters here, talking about love. 

"Yes," Damien answers flatly, his stare is intense on me, not giving me an option to avoid answering him.

I avert my gaze in discomfort, looking at the glass on the table. "I didn't," I say quietly. He didn't even come close to you. 

Damien visibly relaxes, his exhale coming out long and full of relief. I don't even know why this would be even important. "I'm afraid to ask how many women have you dated, though," I chuckle, trying to appear nonchalant. I take a big gulp of a wine to hide the hurt that settled inside of me at just the thought of him being with someone else. Even though that was inevitable.

Damien shakes his head, although I can't really look at him. He would read my feelings like a book. "I wasn't with a lot of women. Didn't have a girlfriend, but I won't lie; there were women for one night. I had ... needs."

If I'll have to listen to this any longer, I'm going to vomit. "Of course," I say dryly. 

"You've changed your hair. You've cut it," Damien observes, hastily changing the subject. The master of playing mind games. "It's lovely, it really suits you. Makes you look more mature and serious." 

"Uh, thanks," I say, uncertain if I should take it as a compliment or not. I never know how to take Damien's words, but I try not to overthink it too much. 

"No need to thank me. You know my camera loves your face." He winks.

I swallow uncomfortably. "Only your camera?" I tease until I hear how my comment actually sounds. It looks like I'm fishing for a compliment and putting Damien in an awkward spot.

Damien's lips curve upwards in a sexy smirk. He lowers his eyes before he looks at me from under his lashes, his look hot on me. "You know I love looking at you, Brooke. You're beautiful and sexy to die for." 

My mouth slightly falls open. "Are you still photographing?" 

"Are you offering?" Damien shoots at me. God, I've missed his ability to turn everything sexual. 

"No," I say quickly, too quickly. The memories of what happened when he photographed me in that room come into my mind. We've slept together for the first time, I rode him on that couch after I posed for him in my lingerie.

"We can make some new memories," Damien offers, flicking his thumb against his bottom lip to appear nonchalant, but I can feel the heat he's radiating. He shifts in his seat, most likely remembering that night, too.

"No, thank you. I'll keep your offer in mind, though," I say sultry, even though my hands are shaking in my lap. I'm afraid to even grab a glass because I know I'd probably drop it.