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She expected me to leave?
“Yeah, because my family is crazy about me hanging around the house.”
An understanding flashes on her face, her eyes softening slightly. But I didn’t want her pity. I wanted… I don’t even know what I wanted, to be completely honest.
So much was said between us, and yet, at the same time, nothing was actually resolved, and it irked me to no end.
It’s like the divide between us was bigger than ever, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
Should I talk to her? Figure out what went wrong between us? Why, after everything that played out three years ago, she still kept it a secret this whole time? Ask her why she never told anybody what had happened the day we broke up? Ask her why she didn’t even give me a chance to explain what had happened? Why she didn’t trust me? Trust in us? Would it even matter? Would going back change anything? Did I want it to change?
“Fine,” Becky mutters, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I’m going to take the dress inside before Emmett gets home. Kate made me promise I’d make sure he doesn’t see it before the wedding day.”
She squeezes the bags closer to her chest and starts for the door. Her body brushes against mine as she slides past me. The damn bag is almost as big as her, and it’s dragging on the floor.
“Give me that before you trip over it and fall.” I slide my hand under the bag, our skin brushing together as I pull the dress out of her arms.
A frown appears on her face as she tries to tug it back, but I hold it out of her reach. “I can do this myself, thank you very much.”
“I didn’t say you can’t. I just don’t want you to break your neck in the process. The last thing I need is for Kate to want to murder me any more than she already does. Where do you want this?”
“Fine,” she huffs. “She said to put it in the guest room.”
Without another word, she turns around and starts marching up the stairs. I watch her stiff back as she climbs up, my gaze falling down her body. She’s dressed in another plain tee and a pair of cutoff jean shorts that hug her curves like a second skin. Her legs have a golden hue to them, her hips swaying softly with every step she takes. My mouth goes dry as Iwatch that slow movement, my pants growing tighter by the second.
I know I should look away, but I can’t. It’s almost like I’m transfixed. No, there is no almost about it. I’m transfixed by her. There was always something about Rebecca that drew my attention from the time we were kids. It was her natural beauty and the determined way she walked through the world. I had an opportunity to meet my fair share of beautiful women, but none of them held a candle to her.
Rebecca stops in the middle of the staircase and looks over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing on me. “Were you staring at my ass just now?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, muttering silent curses at being caught staring. Of course, she’d have no problem calling me out on it, either.
“It’s a nice ass.”
A flicker of surprise flashes on her face, but she stifles it quickly. “Hurry up, we have work to do.” Not waiting for an answer, she turns around and continues marching upstairs.
Seriously, this woman is giving me whiplash.
“I’m coming.”
I take two steps at a time, catching up to her once she gets to the second floor and unlocks the first door to the right. The room is simple. A queen-sized bed occupies most of the space, with a nightstand on each side. Opposite of the bed is a small armoire with a TV hanging above it and another door that leads to the bathroom.
“Just put it on the bed.”
Wordlessly, I do as she says. One of the bags unzipped slightly, giving me a peek at the golden gown sitting inside.
“Is this Kate’s?”
My throat bobs as I swallow. I don’t know what it was about the whole situation that made me unsettled. Maybe it was thefact that I never thought about Rebecca and a wedding dress in the same sentence, but now that the image crossed my mind, I couldn’t get it out of my head. What kind of dress would she pick? One of those princessy, over-the-top gowns? No, that wasn’t Rebecca. She’d go for something simple and elegant. Something—
“No, that’s mine.” Rebecca glares at me, pushing my hands away. “The no-snooping rule goes for you too, mister.”
She firmly puts the zipper in place, making sure both bags are lying flat against the mattress. Only when she’s happy does she take a step back and bump into me.
My hands grab her hips, steadying her.
She sucks in a breath at the contact, looking over her shoulder. Our gazes meet, and the air crackles with pent-up tension as my gaze falls to her face, lowering to her parted lips.
My tongue darts out, those hazel eyes fixing on my lips, and I can see her swallow hard.
