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“I love my brother,” I reply, as if it’s that simple. “It would have achieved nothing, other than him feeling as hurt as I was.”
Her face falls. She nods and then walks out of the room.
I wait until she closes the door before I let myself relax. I sigh, my heart racing. I needed that, probably as much as she did, because things never really felt resolved between us. I hadn't realized how nervous I'd be about seeing her again until she was there in front of me the other night.
Today, even though not much was said, being able to look her in the eye and not feel like I was going to fall apart feels like a huge step forward. It’s taken a year, but that chapter of my life has finally come to an end. I walk around the room for a moment to gather my thoughts. I flex my fingers, trying to get my blood flowing. My hands are shaking from the adrenaline still pumping through my body.
The only person I really care about, aside from my brother, is sitting in a room next to this one, no doubt wondering what the hell is going on. All the truth is doing right now is sitting in the back of my mind, festering away, while I worry how she's going to react when she finds out.
I need to tell her everything. If I don’t, I’m going to lose her.
I walk over to the door connecting our rooms and gently knock, before opening it. She stands next to the bed, throwing her things into her suitcase. She doesn’t look up, instead putting extra anger into her packing.
She’s taking this well.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She zips up the case and then yanks it off, before glaring at me.
“I'll be here for the damn wedding, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she mumbles.
“I don’t care about that. I care about where are you’re going. Are you leaving?” I ask her.
She sighs, finally stopping long enough to meet my gaze.
“I'm requesting another room. One on a different level.”
“Away from me, you mean,” I say, feeling hurt. She shrugs. “Why?” I ask.
“Why?” she repeats. Her eyes flash. “You fucked me all night, Chase. Do you remember that? You made me come four times. And then this morning, your ex-wife knocks on the door and I’m whisked into the other room. How do you think that made me feel?” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. She sinks down onto the bed, her expression helpless. “God, I hate you so much for how you make me feel. I can't do this anymore, Chase.”
She laughs hysterically. I watch her, alarmed as the laughter turns into tears.
Has she finally lost it?
“Your name is so applicable,” she giggles through her tears. “Because that's what I feel like I’m doing. Chasing you.” I sit down next to her.
“Do you want to know what we spoke about in there?” I ask. She stiffens, not answering me. I continue anyway. “You. Pretty much the whole time she was in there, I was talking about you.”
“Really?” she asks. She frowns at me. “Why was she there in the first place?”
“Because we ended things badly,” I say honestly. “We both needed closure.” I reach over, placing my hand on top of hers. She relents, letting me move her closer to me. “In case I haven't made it crystal clear how I feel about you?” I snake my arm around the back of her neck and bring her face closer to mine. “This is how I feel,” I murmur softly, pressing my lips against hers.
She sighs and lies back on the bed, while I lie next to her. I kiss her, just enjoying the feel of her lips against mine. I harden as her fingers move over my crotch, and I release a groan.
“If we didn't have a wedding to get ready for right now, you know exactly what I’d be doing to you,” I mutter. She laughs and then smiles at me, enjoying the fact that she winds me up so damn much.After a quick shower, I change into my tuxedo.
Standing in front of the mirror, I button up my jacket while staring at my reflection. I frown, because I feel more like I'm attending a funeral than a wedding. Alana walks into the room. I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, and I'm stunned. I turn around and take her in, unable to form words to tell her how amazing she looks.
“Is this okay?” she asks, running her hands down over the dress. She frowns as she examines my expression, my lack of response obviously making her insecure. I shake my head and clear my throat.
“I can't even begin to tell you how beautiful you look,” I say hoarsely.
