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“I’ve cried all over you more than I’d like to admit. And you’ve seen me naked. I think it’s too late to start over, Rhys.” She laughs softly, the subdued sound both rich and burbling. Her voice has power. Then again, I already knew that. She sells out every performance she books. “But maybe we can pretend we met for the first time when you picked me up at the airport for my dad’s funeral?”
“Hell no,” I growl. “I’m not pretending I didn’t see you in that swimsuit, songbird.”
“You remember that?” A pretty blush creeps across her cheeks.
“You think I’d forget you looking like a goddess?” I scoff at the thought, slathering mayo on a piece of bread. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, Raven. That’s why I was a dick.”
“Oh,” she whispers. “I thought you were annoyed I was there. Marnie was.” A tiny frown pulls her lips down at the corners, crinkling her brows. “She didn’t want her friends to see me in that swimsuit. She thought it was inappropriate.”
“Marnie’s a shallow, self-absorbed bitch.”
Raven’s eyes go wide.
“It’s true.” I shrug unapologetically. “She likes to be the center of attention. If anything draws attention from her, she can’t stand it. It’s part of why she loved your dad so much. He was always happy to show her off and let her have the spotlight as often as she wanted it.” I scrape the butter knife on the side of the mayo jar and set it aside before piling turkey on the bread. “If she didn’t like you in that swimsuit, it wasn’t because she thought it was inappropriate. It was because she couldn’t stand the thought of you outshining her.”
“No one outshines Marnie. She’s beautiful.”
“You’re right,” I say with a wry snort. “She is beautiful. But that’s all she is. She’s something pretty to look at it. She’s not interesting. She’s not talented. She’s not driven, compassionate, kind, loving, affectionate, warm, or funny. There are a million things she could be, but she chose to be none of them. The only thing she has to offer the world is beautiful.” I rake my eyes down Raven’s body, my gaze pointed. “You’re the whole package—beauty, brains, talent, and heart. You outshine her, princess. She knows it. I know it. Everyone at that party knew it. You need a mirror if you don’t see it too.”
Raven dips her head, shyly looking at the tabletop.
Jesus. I love how sweet she is. It confuses the hell out of me at the same time. How does she not already know how incredible she is? Whoever she’s been dating has done a piss-poor job taking care of her. She shouldn’t have a single doubt in her mind about how beautiful she is.
“She’s in for a rude awakening when she has this baby,” I say, trying not to think too hard about the assholes who have put their hands on her.
“Baby?” she squeaks. “Marnie’s pregnant?”
“Fuck.” I lift my gaze to hers again, reading the shock written across her face. “You didn’t know.”
She shakes her head, her expression completely dumbstruck.
Son of a bitch.
“I thought she told you.”
Why the fuck didn’t Marnie tell her? What game is she playing here?
“No,” Raven whispers, her face pale. She swallows hard, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes. “She didn’t tell me. Um, how…how far along is she?”
“A little over four months. They found out two days before…” I trail off awkwardly, ready to strangle Marnie. “Brant never got a chance to tell you. I assumed Marnie would tell you after the funeral.”
“She never told me.” A powerful sadness passes through her expression, making her look younger, lost in a way she hasn’t since Brant died. She quickly blinks it away, putting on a brave face. “She never liked me much. I guess this just confirms that I’m not family in her opinion. But I’m…happy for her. I’m happy for my dad. I wish he were here.”
“Me too,” I say simply. “He’d be fucking thrilled about this kid.”
“Right?” She smiles a tremulous, watery smile. “He always loved kids. I bet he was so excited when he found out. I’m glad he knew before he…” She trails off with a sigh. “I mean, I’m glad the last news he got was good news, you know? He deserved that.”
I’m sorry, princess. Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.
“Yeah, he did,” I agree.
We lapse into silence for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. She watches me in the windows. I watch her from the corner of my eye. Neither of us speaks as I finish putting her sandwich together. We just watch one another, both pretending we aren’t. Both pretending the silence between us isn’t charged. Both pretending we can handle this thing between us like adults out of respect for Brant’s memory. I think we both know we’re lying to ourselves.
It’s only a matter of time before one of us cracks and crumbles.
We aren’t two ships passing in the night. We’re the RMS Emerald and the SS Storstad on a collision course in the fog. We’re the Titanic headed for certain disaster as we drift off course.
One way or another, she’ll escape unscathed. Even if I have to bleed to make it happen.
