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So why did every part of him ache?
“Goodbye,” she said softly, her lips parting as she stared at him.
And he strode over to her, pulling her close against him. He kissed the top of her head, her cheek, her lips.
Trying to memorize the way she felt. The way she smelled. The way her body molded against his.
Fuck he was being dramatic. She’d be back. Yeah, she would.
Right?
“I’ll be right here,” he whispered. To her. To him. To Delilah. “Whenever you need me, whatever you need. You call, okay?”
“Okay.” Cassie nodded. He could tell she was trying to keep her emotions in control. Dammit he was, too.
“I’m just going to go,” she said, her voice low.
“Okay.”
She hitched her purse over her shoulder and took one long last look at the both of them, then turned and walked down the hallway, pulling open the door.
And as she stepped through it, Delilah let out a long wail.
Damn if his heart didn’t do the same thing.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
“Fuck it.” Presley shook his head, looking up at the gunmetal gray sky. The downpour was showing no signs of stopping, and they’d had to halt their work on the exterior of the house.
And they were so close. If it wasn’t for this storm that had been raging all afternoon, they’d have finished by tomorrow.
“It’s just some rain,” Marley said, his voice even. “It happens.”
“I know that.” Pres scowled at him. “But it’s the fucking summer. Why now?” And why did his heart ache looking at it? If it was any other day, he’d be driving to the dance school and telling Cassie he was taking her home.
But she wasn’t here.
“Because the world hates you. There, does that help?” Marley asked him. “Do you feel better now? It’s raining because everything is about you.”
“Shut the hell up.” Presley shook his head. “I’m just trying to make us a profit here.”
“No you’re not. You’re trying to find something – or someone – to blame for your bad mood. When you know you’re the one that caused it.”
Pres blinked. “What did you say?”
Marley caught his eye. His usually easy-going brother looked angry. Like really angry. “You think you’re the only one who’s suffered a loss?” Marley asked.
“Where did that come from?”
Marley shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just go shout at the clouds again.”
“Of course it matters,” Pres said, more annoyed than anything else. His brother was supposed to be on his side, not making him feel worse. “What loss have you suffered?”
“I said it doesn’t matter.” Marley’s voice was more forceful this time. “And at least I can say I’m not the author of my own fucking misery.”
Pres’ mouth was dry. He’d spent the last two days wanting to punch something. And right now his brother’s face was in the firing line. He turned away, gritting his teeth, because he was a grown man.
