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I climbed off the bed and walked back and forth, trying to make sense of what Blake was telling me.
He didn’t propose?
Why the hell was he getting married to Brittany then?
“Penny, babe, come sit down.”
I shook my head. “No, no, I need to do something. It’s too much all at once.”
Blake eyed me warily, but I ignored him. I could concentrate on pacing. Five steps forward, turn, five steps forward, turn, and repeat.
“My aunt and uncle couldn’t have children,” he went on as I continued to wear a hole in the carpet. “Aunt Miranda told me that when my mom left, it crushed him. He was older by eight years—the typical overbearing, protective big brother, especially since their parents were older.
“Mom was set for Brown. The world was hers until she met my father. It was love at first sight, but everyone was worried because Jake was unstable. No one knew about the drugs until later, but he was heading on a one-way track to prison and didn’t care if he took Mom along for the ride. Uncle Ant tried to make her see sense, but when you’re eighteen and in love, you can’t see straight.”
I stopped in my tracks, and my eyes found Blake. He smiled sadly and then dropped his gaze, jolting me back into action.
“One day, she was just gone. No note, no paper trail, nothing. Everyone knew she’d left with Jake, but they wanted to disappear, and all their searches came up empty. Uncle Ant never gave up, though. Fast forward seventeen years, and after numerous PIs, he finally got the call he’d been waiting for. Except it wasn’t.
“Mom was dead, and I was in foster care.”
As Blake said the words, I realized just how much of our story I didn’t know.
During the summer at Camp Chance, we had both been too taken aback, too scared to talk openly about things. Hearing it now was hard enough.
“Uncle Anthony is used to getting what he wants, Penny, and he wants me to carry on his legacy. He wants me to work my way up in his law firm. Britt—” He hesitated as if the words were difficult to say, and I froze. “Brittany’s family and my uncle’s family are old friends, and in my uncle’s world, you marry your kind.”
His words were like knives scraping at old wounds, ripping open the frail stitches holding the pieces of my heart together.
I gasped.
I hadn’t meant to, but it had happened all the same.
“And I’m not your kind.” I smiled sadly, fighting back the tears.
He pushed off the bed and walked over to me. Cupping my jaw, he tilted my face to his. “I don’t love her,” he said with conviction. “I will never love her, and I will find a way to fix this.
“I meant what I said, Penny. I’m not losing you again.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Penny
Morning light filteredthrough the blinds.
It was so bright I figured it must be the reflection of the snow that had fallen throughout the night. My eyes squinted at the clock on the nightstand. It was only just past eight. Blake stirred next to me, and my heart swelled just knowing he was here. With me. In my shitty apartment overlooking a back alley of a student bar.
After talking into the late hours, we’d finally fallen asleep. At some point during the night, Blake had rid himself of his jeans and T-shirt and slept next to me in just his boxer shorts.
I traced the lines of his body. The dips and planes of his sun-kissed muscles. The way his lips quivered as he breathed. My mouth dried, and my legs clenched together as I adjusted to the new and exciting feelings he evoked in me.
But a part of me still felt guilty.
For all intent and purposes, he was still engaged to Brittany.
It didn’t stop me from reaching to touch him though.
I didn’t want to wake him; I just wanted to feel his skin. His warmth.
