His brother was right.
The realization hits me with the force of a hurricane.
Mark’s saying the right things, doing what he can to charm me, to try to steal me away from Brian. This is just a game to him, but he’s using my emotions as his pawn, and that’s not fair to me.
“Hey, how was your ni—” Jill starts when she sees me walk in, but she stops short when she looks up at my tear-streaked, red, puffy face. “Oh my God. What happened?”
Seeing my best friend and all her concern only brings on another bout of sobs.
She tosses an arm around my shoulders and leads me over to the couch. “What did Brian do?”
I shake my head.
“Who did this?”
I inhale a shaky breath, and let out his name on another sob as I collapse on the couch. “Mark.”
She sits next to me. “That fucking asshole. What did he do?”
I love her. I love how she stands up for me without knowing the story. I love how she’s on my side no matter what. I shake my head. “Not like that. I think I love him.”
“Of course you do, babe. So do I. He’s Mark Ashton. Everyone loves him.”
“But Brian.” I swipe at the tears.
“You love Brian, too?”
I nod. “I think so.”
“Start from the beginning.”
I draw in another shaky breath. “I went to that dinner thing last night at Mark’s place but Mark was out of town. Then Brian got a call late last night, and he had to go to Houston right away. I stayed over because I drank wine all night. When I got up this morning, I was all alone in the penthouse. Then Mark walked in.”
“Oh, shit.” She’s sitting on the edge of the couch—like she’s on the edge of her seat as she waits for me to tell my story. “What happened?”
“He kissed me.”
“Oh my God, Reese!” She grips my wrist. “What does this mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything except that I cheated on Brian.” I shake her off.
“You had sex with Mark?”
My brows draw together in confusion. “Yeah, almost two months ago.”
“Not this morning?”
I shake my head. I know she’s getting at the fact that a kiss might not be considered cheating, but I’m not looking for a loophole. I’m guilty of my crime. I didn’t initiate it, but I certainly didn’t stop it.
She folds her arms across her chest. “Okay, so you kissed, then what?”
“He stopped it and I left.”
“That was it?”
I shake my head. “He said some things when I walked out.”
“What did he say?”
“He can’t stop thinking about me,” I paraphrase.
“Oh my God,” she says for the third time since I walked in the door.
“It doesn’t matter. I like Mark. I might even love him. But I could love Brian, too. Mark doesn’t want me, he just doesn’t want Brian to have me.”
“I don’t know,” Jill says. “I saw the way he looked at you at the party. I don’t think it’s just a game to him.”
“It doesn’t matter. Brian’s the right choice.” I say it adamantly, mostly to try to convince myself that it’s true. “The safe choice.”
She huffs out a mirthless laugh. “Safe and love don’t mix, babe.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’ve just stepped out of the shower when I hear incessant pounding at my front door. I ignore it as I towel dry and then comb out my wet hair, as I apply my face cream, and as I pull on my panties and bra. When it keeps persisting, I have to stop ignoring it. Whoever it is won’t go away.
I grab the closest pair of shorts and shirt and run to the front door.
Imagine my surprise when I find, out of all the people in the universe who could be there—those door-to-door insect repellent salesmen, landscapers, some delivery service—Mark Ashton standing there.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and then heat creeps into my cheeks as I realize Mark fucking Ashton is standing on my front porch and I have wet hair and not a trace of makeup on.
“Do you actually own any other shirts?” he asks.
I glance down at what shirt I grabbed off my floor. It’s the same Vail shirt I’ve been wearing almost every time I’ve seen him. The heat in my cheeks deepens.
“Did you come here just to ask me that?”
He shakes his head.
“Then why are you here?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m not sure.”
“Your pounding on my door seemed pretty sure.”
“I was sure I needed to see you. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”
“How did you even find me?”
“Becker.”
“You just said, ‘Hey, Beck, where does my brother’s girlfriend live?’”
“Something like that,” he says dryly. “Can I…uh…can I come in?”
I notice his hesitance. Mark doesn’t strike me as a person who is ever hesitant. To see him unsure of himself is unnerving.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“I came all this way.”
“All fifteen minutes from your penthouse suite?”
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
I glance behind him and see a black Yukon in my driveway. Someone sits in the driver’s seat and another person sits in the passenger seat as the car runs.
“Come on in,” I say, opening my door wider.
He steps in and we’re alone in my house. Jill’s at work. His driver and another man are outside. It’s just the two of us in here, and as I turn around and gesture for him to follow me, I can’t help when my eyes land on the couch where I just gave my boyfriend oral sex a few days earlier. I think of Brian—so many memories of Brian here, memories crashing into each other as I lead Mark through my home. We stop in my kitchen. I lean up against the counter, and he stands a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.
He looks nervous when he speaks. “I just wanted to clarify what I said earlier.”
“When I left?”
“Yeah.”
“Not much to clarify.”
“You heard what I said?”
I nod. “It’s not fair, you’re right.” I lower my voice even though it’s just the two of us. “I still think about that night all the time. I still think about what we shared. I couldn’t stop thinking about it until I met someone who helped me move on.”
His eyes close as if he’s in pain. “That’s the difference.”
“What is?”
“You moved on.”
“Not completely,” I admit.
His eyes glisten with hope.
“But you’re Mark Ashton. Mark Ashton. Bad boy rock star extraordinaire. I know your reputation.”
Frustration creases his brow as he throws up his hands. “I’ve told you. It’s lies. It’s some stupid fucking image the media built and I let them because I didn’t care. Now I care.”
“Brian told me about how you two are competitive.” I have nothing to lose with honesty here, so I let it fly. “He told me how you always go after what’s his.”
“A, that’s not true, and B, you were mine first.”
“I never belonged to anybody.” The words come out harsher than I mean for them to, and his face falls. I forge ahead. “You can’t stand there and act like you want more with me. He told me about you. He was honest when he said he’s terrified I’ll leave him for you, and he doesn’t even know what happened between us.” I motion between the two of us, and then I let out a breath. “I know about Kendra,” I say quietly.
His brows shoot up in surprise. “He told you about Kendra?”
“Sort of,” I say. “Why don’t you tell me your side of it?”
“No matter what I say, I’m going to look like the bad guy even though I’m not. It’s so fucked up.”
“Even more reason why we can’t do it to him, Mark. It doesn’t matter how I feel about you. I have to go on pretending like there’s nothin
g between us. Don’t you see how it’ll break him if he knew?”
Mark blows out a defeated breath and turns away from me, pacing in front of me without meeting my eyes. “I had this plan in my head that we’d have breakfast when you woke up after the night we spent together. I figured I’d ask for your number, ask you out again. I planned to tell you how our night meant something to me, that in one night you awoke these intense feelings in me that no one has ever touched. No one. It wasn’t just about sex, not to me, not from the moment I saw you walk into the dressing room that night with your friend. If you hadn’t been so bold as to practically beg to come home with me, I’d have asked you anyway.” He stops pacing and finally looks up at me. His gaze is full of intense heat, passion, pain. “But you were gone when I woke up, so I never got the chance to say any of that.”
My heart twists in my chest. I’m having a hard time believing the fact that Mark Ashton is standing here in my house. I think it’s even harder to believe that I’m rejecting him.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, unable to form the right thoughts to respond to his confession.
He nods for me to go ahead.
“You said you haven’t stopped thinking about me. Why didn’t you try to find me?”
He shrugs. “I had a first name and the fact that you’re a teacher. Not much to go on. I didn’t even know for sure if you lived here. People travel to our shows all the time. Vegas is a popular destination.”
“What about Jill?”
“I remembered you had a friend who worked for a paper. I didn’t know her name or what paper. I didn’t know your last name. I tried, Reese. Believe me. I had my guys working on it, and it blows my fucking mind that you were right in front of me the entire time. Fucking my brother.”
He says the last part under his breath, and it feels like a physical blow to my chest. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He takes a step toward me. I want to back up, to stay out of his orbit, but I can’t—my ass is already butted up against my kitchen counter, a counter where I have other memories with this man’s brother.
“So that’s it?” he asks, his voice husky as he takes another step toward me.
I lift a shoulder, more unsure than I’ve ever been about anything in my entire life. Everything about this—about us—is both right and wrong. No matter what I do here, someone is going to get hurt, and somehow, I think either way it’s going to be me. How the hell did I manage to get myself in this mess—to get myself in the middle of two brothers?
“I guess,” I finally say.
He takes another step toward me, his smoldering gaze both menacing and innately sexual. He’s only a foot away from me. The memory of his lips on mine from this morning is still fresh. I can still taste him, still feel his fingers as they dug into my flesh. My entire body throbs for him, with the epicenter of the ache square in my core, seismic waves rolling out in painful tremors.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper. He’s close enough that I smell peppermint. I catch the faintest hint of sandalwood.
“Everything,” he whispers back. He gazes at me for a long beat while my heart beats erratically in my chest and butterflies batter against my stomach. The tension between us is palpable, as is the sexual energy, the desire, the passion. It’s a tangible thing I can take and hold in my arms. He’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. And just when I think he’s going to do it, that he’s going to rush toward me and take me in his arms, back where I know I belong despite everything, he backs away, breaking the fragile thread that binds us.
This morning, I turned and left. It was on my terms.
Now, though, it’s on his.
He turns and walks out of my kitchen, out the front door, and out of my life with his singular word echoing in my head.
* * *
“Tell me about what happened with Kendra.” I blurt out the words after I’ve barely said hello. I haven’t spoken to him all day—not even a text message, so I know he’s been busy, and now he’s calling to say goodnight.
“It’s late, Reese.” Brian’s voice is tired, but I don’t miss the frustration there.
I glance at the clock. It’s almost midnight, but I guess that’s two o’clock in the morning in his time zone. “Says the man who flew halfway across the country after getting a call at one in the morning.”
“Says the man who worked his ass off for twelve hours today and then entertained clients at a business dinner before entertaining them at a bar. Says the man who has to be up in—fuck, in four hours after getting no sleep last night.”
“Then tell me quick.”
I hear his sigh before he says the words. “I was with her for a year and then she fucked my asshole brother.” His tone is so blunt, so full of pain that I feel it in my own chest.
“Oh,” I say. More guilt spreads over me as I realize how hard it must be for him to make this confession—a confession I forced out of him. I think back to Mark’s words: No matter what I say, I’m going to look like the bad guy even though I’m not. How could he not be the bad guy when he slept with Brian’s girlfriend? “Thanks for telling me.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice. I have to go.”
“Can we just talk for a few more minutes?”
“About what? About how women always use me to get to him?”
“No,” I murmur. Pain stabs my stomach for making him talk about something that still clearly hurts him. “Sorry I brought it up. Sleep well.”
“Bye.”
He ends the call and I sit in my bed for a few beats with the phone still held to my ear feeling like a royal asshole.
So I finally know the big secret—something I’d all but guessed on my own anyway, but now it’s confirmed. He and his ex broke up when she slept with his brother. No wonder he’s insecure when it comes to his brother. I don’t blame him for not wanting me around Mark.
Brian can’t ever find out. If he did, it wouldn’t just destroy us.
It would destroy him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Three days.
It’s been three days since I saw Mark.
Three days since I saw Brian, too, now that I think about it.
I’m not sure who I miss more. I’m not sure where my heart lies.
With Brian out of town and Mark on my mind constantly, the days are slow and tedious. Jill took a couple of days off work to accompany Becker on a work trip to San Francisco. Tess is in Mexico with some friends for a few days, and I’m alone with my thoughts. It’s the constant barrage of wondering whether I’m doing the right thing that finally drives me to decide I need to get out of town. So, after texting my mom to make sure they’ll be around, I pack an overnight bag and head home.
Five hours in the car on the way to Phoenix gives me plenty of thinking time. Sometimes I turn the volume up on the radio until my ears hurt and my head starts to pound, but in some ways the headache is more comforting than my thoughts. And then a Vail song comes on, and the cycle starts over.
I should’ve deleted their music off my playlist before I got in the damn car.
I skip past their songs, the songs that’ve comforted me in hard times, been with me in good times. It’s hard skipping past them. They’re still my favorite band despite everything, and I miss their music. I miss his voice. I miss the sound of his deft fingers plucking guitar strings. But it’s too hard, too fresh, too close to my heart.
Brian’s calls have been short and curt since his confession about his ex. I don’t blame him for being a little mad at me for forcing the truth out of him when he wasn’t ready, but if we have any chance at surviving a future together, it starts with honesty.
God, I’m such a fucking hypocrite.
It’s probably better if I just let Brian go. Start over, find someone else, someone whose brother I don’t have such an emotional attachment to.
But my feelings for Brian are strong, too, and the selfish side of me can’t let him go.
A t
iny piece of me can’t help but wonder if I don’t want to let Brian go because he’s my connection to Mark. He’s my guarantee I’ll see Mark again. Whatever happened between them must be in the past now if Brian is staying with him. Brian’s heart might be bigger than I’m giving him credit for and he might’ve already forgiven his brother.
I don’t know because I don’t have any real details about what happened—what led up to it, what caused it, what the aftermath was, how it changed a relationship between brothers.
When I finally pull into the driveway of my parents’ house, a sense of relief washes over me. I’m twenty-seven, but Mom and Dad’s house is still comforting.
My mom throws the door open and grabs me up into a hug. She hasn’t changed. She has the same short hair, the same brown eyes she gave my sister. “Reese!” she exclaims as she holds me tightly. Heat prickles behind my eyes. Am I really about to cry just because my mother is hugging me?
I look up at the ceiling to ward off the tears, and then I pull back. She kisses my cheek. “You’re beautiful. Glowing. Is it this new boy you texted your sister about?”
I roll my eyes, the threat of tears subsiding. “She has the biggest mouth ever,” I whine.
My mom laughs. “Come on in and tell me all about him.”
I came here to get away from thoughts of him. I don’t tell her that, and I’m certainly not about to rehash my love life with my mother, but I hope to have a big gab session with my sister later.
“Is Rachel coming by for dinner?”
“She said she’s going to try to stop by after dinner. She has some work thing with Ben tonight.”
I miss my younger sister and her adorable boyfriend, Ben. They’ve been together since she was in college. I’m certain they’ll get married someday. Sometimes I wish I had it all figured out the way she does.
My mom’s arm is around my shoulders as she ushers me into the family room.
“I’m just gonna run upstairs and drop off my bag,” I say.
“Take your time and I’ll get a snack together.”
I head up to my childhood room. I haven’t visited home since spring break. I feel like a jerk. I know my mom loves when I come home, and I need to do it more. It’s a long drive, though, and when I’m in the middle of the school year, it’s hard to find the time. Plus, who sees Phoenix as a vacation destination in July? Not that Vegas is much better, but the heat can be crippling. I should know since I grew up here.
Love Triangle: Six Books of Torn Desire Page 61