Page 17 of What Was Meant To Be

He lets out a sigh and I can already picture him pulling at his hair like he always does when he’s agitated. “We went to dinner earlier at a steakhouse owned by one of the investors. Now we’re just at a rooftop bar. I wish you were here,” he says finally. “Everyone has their significant other here and I just… miss you.”

Finally!

“I miss you too. I’m sorry I’m not there.”

“You could come tonight?” he says immediately. “I could get you a red eye and you could be here by the morning,” he offers and I freeze. “There’s an impromptu meet and greet before we open tomorrow night, I’d love it if you were here with me.”

“Parker, I can’t… I have a huge paper due Tuesday.”

“And yet you’re out tonight.”

“Yes, for a few hours and I was planning to spend the entire day tomorrow, Sunday and Monday working on it, maybe even at the library. There’s a big difference between a few hours tonight and a cross-country trip that wouldn’t allow me any time to do any work.”

“I’ll leave you completely alone until tomorrow night. I have work to do too. The suite is so nice, you can do your paper on this terrace with a view of Central Park and—”

I wince, wondering how I’m going to let him down easily. “Parker, there’s a reason I didn’t come this time. It was just bad timing, remember? I have a lot going on with school.”

“Whatever.”

“Baby, don’t do this,” I plead with him. “Why have you been so pissy with me today? You’re acting like you don’t trust me here without you almost.” I swallow. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

“You’re really throwingthatin my face right now?”

I frown, because I actually wasn’t but clearly his guilty conscience is showing. “I’m not throwing anything in your face, Parker.” I’m leaning over the railing of the patio with my back to the lounge when I sense someone in my space. I turn to the right to see Jacob now leaning over the balcony as well, his forearms resting on the bar.“Why are you getting so defensive?”

Great, just what I fucking need.“Maybe we should just talk in the morning,” I say before he can respond, not wanting to allow Jacob any further glimpses into this view of our relationship.

“I thought we agreed you’d call me when you got home tonight.”

I suck in a breath before letting it go slowly, trying to calm my irritation. “Yes, of course. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Fine. I love you,” he says and the habit of always saying it before we get off the phone is the only reason I say it back because quite frankly I’m annoyed as hell at how he’s treated me all night.

“Love you too,” I tell him before hanging up the phone. I don’t look at Jacob, whose gaze I can feel on mine. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, he just gives me a second to calm down I assume. But then he begins to speak, his voice low and gravelly andseductive. “So, let me get this straight, he cheats on you, I need some context on that by the way, and from what I’ve heard in just a few moments of conversation he also seems to be giving you a hard time for what? Living?” He faces me. “Typically, when one person cheats, they don’t have a lot of room to make demands. Usually, the wronged party is the one demanding everything short of a lie detector when the other party gets home.”

I don’t say anything and when he grips my chin and brings my face toward his, he cocks his head to the side.

His large, warm hand on my face makes my skin tingle. I used to love his hands on my face. He’d hold it when he’d kissed me. Stroked my cheeks. Wiped my tears. It used to be my weakness and evidently it still was because my knees buckle slightly. “Whitney, what’s going on? Why… just why?”

I pull away from his grasp and take a step back. “He said he was sorry… it was a mistake and that it wouldn’t happen again.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I need more than that. What happened? And how do you know it’s not happening wherever he is right now?”

The thought had crossed my mind, but I was choosing to trust him. “It was earlier in our relationship. We’d only been together about three months. I ended it for a little bit and he begged, groveled, he sent flowers, cards and gifts.” I wave a hand toward him as if to say et cetera. “You get it, I took him back on a trial run.” I chuckle. “He became this perfect guy. It truly was just a stupid drunken mistake. He was in Vegas. Bachelor party. You know how it is.”

“Can’t say that I do. I went to three bachelor parties while we were together and I distinctly remember demanding nudes from you every four hours. So don’t hand me that drunk mistake bullshit because I could have been so drunk I didn’t remember my own name, but I damn sure always knew yours.” My heart flutters at his words and I shake my head trying to rid myself of the high that my entire body feels hearing his words. “So okay, you took him back, you forgave him. How long after that did he propose?”

“Ummm we’ve been together about a year and a half total. So, it’s been a little over a year since that happened?”

“He slept with her?”

I nod.

I notice that he balls his hands into a fist and anger flashes over his features. “You deserve better than that. Better thanthis.”

“What’s better…? You? Is that where you’re going with this?”

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