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She turned in my arms and kissed me. I needed more, I needed to be inside her. We crawled up to the bed, and I took my time undressing her, kissing and caressing her body. Maybe a small part of me knew, but I committed her body and its response to my lips to memory. Every small moan or arch of her back. I held off my orgasm as long as I could, slowly grinding in and out of her, but ultimately, I came inside her and stayed there while I softened, kissing her, hoping to convince her that we were the real thing as tears leaked from both our eyes.
This was just a rough patch for us. We could overcome anything.
I tried to stay awake long after she’d fallen asleep, desperate to come up with a solution. Eventually, my fatigue won the war, and I drifted off.
When I woke, there was a note on my pillow.
* * *
Rylan,
* * *
Live the dream for both of us. Find someone here to share your life with who wants the same things you do. You’ll always own a piece of my heart. Good luck in the playoffs. I’m still your biggest cheerleader.
* * *
Love,
Calista
* * *
I threw off the covers and ran to the closet. Her side was bare, and I knew she couldn’t have possibly done all that while I was sleeping. She’d been planning this. How did I not notice? Her vanity in the bathroom was completely void of her, as if she’d never existed at all.
With a roar, I picked up my cologne bottle and threw it across the room, shattering across the floor. How could she leave me? Did she ever really love me?
Now, I’m staring at her wearing a wedding gown. One that shows off every damn curve I love to worship. My world tips on its axis and nothing makes sense anymore.
“Declan’s outside,” I say and take one last look at her before exiting.
When I get outside, I bend over for breath. If I had the ring, I might’ve proposed right there. I have no explanation for my reaction to seeing her in a wedding gown, but it feels… life-changing.
Needing to clear my head, I go to the tuxedo place next door. Declan is wearing his tuxedo, and it fits him perfectly.
“Why are you so pale?” he asks me through the mirror.
I sit in the big brown leather chair. “Nothing. You’re good to go over when you want. Unless you’re marrying Jean.”
“What?” His forehead wrinkles.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
I have no idea if he says anything else to me. I’m too busy thinking about Calista wearing that dress for some other bastard. A bastard who wants the same things she does. A bastard more deserving than me. A bastard who will eventually win her heart.
Get a grip, Rylan. She left you, remember that.
Twenty-Five
Rylan
“You seemed weirded out seeing me in a wedding dress,” Calista says from the passenger seat.
We’re on our way to Maisie’s game and I’m crossing my fingers that she gets some playing time because we’ve worked with her a few times and she’s doing great.
“No.” I shake my head to try to sell the lie I’m telling.
“You didn’t say anything. You stood there, speechless.”
