by Love, Kristy
Chapter 21
Bianca
Nash stumbled and murmured nonsense beside me as I struggled to get him into the elevator. As we went up, he rested his cheek on the top of my head, and his arm went around my waist, pulling me against him. He inhaled deeply.
“Smell so good,” he mumbled before smelling my hair again. When the elevator doors opened, I dragged him out into the hall and tried to figure out which way his room was. So far, we’d been extremely lucky that no one had seen us. The elevator was empty, and the halls were bare. If anyone did see us, it’d surely cause some kind of scandal. With cell phones everywhere, cameras were everywhere. Anyone could snap a picture and tweet it out, leading to it spreading like wildfire. I needed to get him to his room quickly, though he got slower and heavier with every minute.
Feeling him against me, his warmth and strength, was sweet torture. I loved being near him, but it was wrong. It was so wrong. I spotted his room number and pulled him to a stop. “Where’s your room key?” I asked. His eyes were glazed and slightly unfocused. I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be much help. I’d have to go searching for it on my own. I reached into his pocket, causing him to groan painfully, and found his wallet. “Are you okay?”
“I miss you touching me,” he said. He grabbed a bit of my hair sloppily and ran his fingers down it. “You feel right next to me, don’t you think?”
He was clearly drunk off his ass, so I didn’t respond, only searched through his wallet for his keycard. When I found it, I swiped it and opened the door. “It’s time to go to bed.” I waited for him to walk into the room, but he didn’t move, he just kept gazing down at me. I nudged him. He let go of me, took a step, and almost fell flat on his face. I sighed, realizing I’d have to get him in the room. “Okay, let’s go,” I muttered, defeated. Once inside, I kicked the door closed and helped Nash sit on the end of the bed.
“I’m going to get you some water, stay right there,” I said, making sure he’d stay there. He nodded before clutching his head. The room was surely twirling for him. I handed him a glass and he downed it quickly. “Do you want more?” Another nod. This continued for a few minutes, him guzzling water almost as fast as I could get it for him.
“Thanks,” he said after the last glass I’d gotten him. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. He tried to bend down and take off his shoes, but he almost tipped forward onto his face.
I couldn’t fight the smile that threatened, so I let it happen. He wasn’t sober enough to remember that he’d caused another smile. He likely wouldn’t remember any of this. “I’ll get it.” I pushed back on his shoulder lightly to keep him from tumbling over, then dropped to my knees on the carpet to take his shoes off. After that was done, I sat back on my heels and looked up at him. His eyes drank in my face like it was all those glasses of whiskey he’d just had. He looked so lost and sad, frowning at me. Slowly, like he was afraid I was a bird that’d flutter away, he reached out and ran two fingertips down the side of my face and over my lips.
“I’ve always loved you, Bianca. I wish you would listen to me.” His words were still slurred and sloppy, but my heart stopped beating. I held my breath as I waited for what he was going to say as his fingers lingered on my lips. “I had to end it, and I knew you wouldn’t let me go unless I broke your heart. I’ve hated myself every day since then.” His touch moved up until it brushed over my eyelids, forcing me to close them. “I hate that I put this sadness in your eyes. I miss making you laugh and smile. I miss making you happy.” I sucked in a deep breath when I realized I was still holding it. I’d gotten a little light-headed. I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen, the feel of his fingers tracing my features so softly, or his words. My heart fluttered.
His hand moved until it was in my hair, his fingers spread wide and my temple against his palm. “Everything I’ve done, it was to forget you. I did everything I could, you know that? Viv was the closest thing to chasing away the ghost of you, but here you are. So real, so beautiful, so fucking right. I can’t escape you.”
Against my better judgment, I pressed my head into his hand gently, needing the contact. His words were causing a war inside me and goose bumps to spread over my flesh. His eyes were so intense, dancing over my face like I was the water his parched throat so desperately needed.
And just as quickly as his words started, they stopped, and he pulled away from me, leaving me cold and lost, adrift in a sea of complex and wrong emotions. “It’s so hot in here,” he said. He reached behind him and yanked his shirt off, and my eyes dropped of their own accord. What I saw caused me to gasp.
Around his neck was a thin silver chain with a guitar pick hanging off it. It was black with white specks. The word HeartLess was written on it. All these years later, he still had that stupid guitar pick. It wasn’t expensive nor was it the best quality, but he’d kept it. Not only had he kept it, but it was around his neck. His arms led to a beautiful array of color decorating his chest. My fingertips twitched with the need to touch them, trace the lines, feel the heat of his skin with the color as a backdrop. Then I saw the tattoo right above his heart. It was in black ink which made it different than every other tattoo on his body. It wasn’t very big, maybe as long as a finger, but it was an intricate bumble bee. The detail of it was breathtaking and his words from before, twenty years ago, flooded my mind.
My eyes misted and the walls around my heart shook and crumbled.
I wasn’t taking his words seriously from before. He was drunk and saying random things, but I did believe he’d never forgotten me. Somehow, I knew that bumble bee tattoo was for me and that guitar pick was definitely from me. He’d kept me close to his heart all these years. The hope I’d worked so hard to squash resurfaced, inflating me until my chest was aching with it.
“Don’t cry, my Bee.” Nash’s palm came around my chin and tipped my face up to him. “Please don’t cry because of me. I’ve caused too many tears as it is.” His thumb stroked my cheek.
I grabbed his hand and held it against my cheek and got lost in his eyes. My heart raced, my breath rasped and was sandpaper in my lungs and throat. “Nash,” I said, his name slipping out, feeling foreign and delicious against my tongue and lips.
He smiled wide, and his dimple appeared. I realized this was the first real smile I’d seen from him since he’d come back into my life. “I missed my name in your voice.” He moved closer until he knelt on the floor with me, wobbling slightly. I caught his shoulders and helped steady him. His eyes dropped to my lips. “I really, really want to kiss you.”
My lips parted, and heat coursed through my veins. I’d let him kiss me if he pushed it right now. Too many memories and feelings were weakening me and, truthfully, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to take him in my arms and never let him go. I wanted to claim him as my own and secure his place in my heart, where he really belonged. My hands went to his chin which was rough with stubble. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, so I just looked at him.
“Would you stop me if I kissed you right now, Bianca?” he asked. If it weren’t for the slowness and slight slur in his speech, I’d wonder if he was actually sober.
“You can’t.” The words hurt as they clawed their way out, fighting their way back inside. I wanted this, this moment.
“It’s just us right now, just you and me.” Nash leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there. I closed my eyes and soaked in the feel of his lips on my skin. A tear leaked out, sliding down my cheek in a blazing trail. I slid my hand down until my palm rested against his bee tattoo. His heart thumped, and I lost myself in the rhythm of it. His lips moved until they brushed my temple, lingering there as well. “I can’t believe I ever lived without this. Without you touching me.”
His skin was so warm against my hand, almost on fire. This moment hurt so much because I wanted to make him mine, but I couldn’t. After that dance when I’d kissed him while he was there with Stacy, I told myself I’d never do that again. I would
n’t take or taste what wasn’t mine, and Nash was definitely not mine. God, I’d give anything for that not to be the case. I’d crawl into bed next to him and hold him. My arms ached to wrap around him. “We really can’t,” I whispered, the words weak.
His lips moved down to my cheek, feathering kisses there. “Please don’t leave me, Bee. I don’t think I could take it.”
Another tear fell. I needed to pull away, to put a stop to this, but the pain and anguish in his voice killed me. My defenses were crumbling by the second and my need to be with him, near him, drowned out every other thought and feeling. I yearned for him. My soul knew this was the other half of it, the half that’d walked away eight years ago. It wanted to be whole again, and God, it’d be so easy to fall into his arms. Fuck the consequences until tomorrow, except the consequences were my entire life. I’d lose my job, my credibility—I’d become a woman with a giant scarlet A on her chest. I’d be the reason Nash James and the beloved Vivienne Petit broke up. I’d hate myself for being the other woman.
And what if Nash wouldn’t leave Vivienne? What if he wanted me one last time to get me out of his system before he went off for his true happily ever after?
My chin quivered with emotion, with the need to cry, with the enormity of this single slice of time. I couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t make myself leave. No matter what, this was a changing point. I was either going to break every rule I had for myself, or I was going to tear my heart and soul to shreds.
Either way, I was not going to be the same Bianca Fair when I left this hotel room.
“Nash,” I said again. It was either a warning or a plea for more.
His response was to move until his lips hovered over mine, our noses touching. His whiskey-soaked breath tickled my cheeks, and a shiver danced down my spine. If one of us moved a millimeter closer, we’d seal our lips together. I closed my eyes, resigning myself. I couldn’t resist him. I’d never been able to. With his warmth, his scent, his touch invading me, it was impossible. I’d deal with everything else tomorrow. For now, I’d live in the moment, this stolen moment with the only man I’d ever loved. At the moment, he was mine and mine alone.
“I need you, Bee,” he whispered, his mouth brushing against mine as he spoke. Another round of chills pebbled my skin.
“I’m right here,” I said, offering myself up like a sacrificial lamb. I’d never make it to the other side of this. I’d be slaughtered, but he was worth it.
My breathing stuttered, coming out in short, desperate bursts, and my heart thundered so loudly, all I could hear was the rushing of my blood. My body trembled with need. If he didn’t touch me, kiss me, take me right now, I was going to die. I needed him more than my next heartbeat.
And the shrill ring of his cell phone fractured the moment, splintering it all over the carpet. I moved back, mortification washing over me like raindrops. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and I saw the name on the screen.
Viv
“Oh, my God,” I said, my hand coming up and covering my mouth. My stomach twisted and turned and threatened to empty itself all over the both of us. I scrambled to my feet. “Oh, my God. I need to leave. I have to go.” I grabbed my purse, which I hadn’t even realized I’d dropped until now, and threw it over my shoulder.
“Bianca,” Nash said, climbing to his feet and walking toward me, though he still wasn’t sure on his feet. “Please don’t leave.”
“Nash—I mean, Mr. James—you’re engaged. Your fiancée is calling you right now.” The ringtone kept going, mocking me, mocking my weakness. Tears filled my eyes, this time from embarrassment and disappointment. I was so unbelievably disappointed in myself. How could I let him strip down my barriers and defenses so easily?
“I don’t care about that, I care about you.” He reached for me, trying to touch me, but I moved away. If he touched me, we’d be back to square one, and I couldn’t go there. I’d never go back there. Having my heart broken once by Nash James was enough. I’d barely made it through that time, I wasn’t sure I could survive it this time.
“Make sure you drink water. I have to go.” I didn’t wait for him to answer because I knew the more I heard his voice, heard his sweet words, the easier it’d be to give in. And I couldn’t give in. I wouldn’t.
I fled. I ran to the elevator, jamming the button over and over again until it showed up. I fought to keep my composure, to keep myself from completely shattering into a million pieces. On autopilot, I got home and changed for bed, then burrowed under my blankets. My whole body throbbed. I was one giant open wound, threatening to bleed out. Tears scalded my cheeks. I was so sick of crying over Nash. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to go there, to get so close to kissing him. I needed to keep my distance from him.
Chapter 22
Nash
My head pounded ferociously. My mouth was full of cotton balls coated in sand. My eyelids were weighted with bricks. I groaned, and that sent lightning bolts of pain through my head. I tried to sit up, but the room spun, and my stomach roiled, threatening to empty itself everywhere. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the drapes, threatening to take the pain of my skull and turn it into a throb. Fuck, I rarely drank like this, but I really outdid myself last night. It was supposed to be me clearing the air with Bianca and making things less awkward, but I thoroughly fucked that up.
I somehow got out of bed, though my knees were weak, and my stomach was beyond queasy. In the bathroom, I bent down and turned on the faucet guzzled the water. It was cool and soothing against my parched throat. After I was waterlogged, I finished my business in the bathroom and went back to bed. I wasn’t going anywhere today. I felt like death. No hangover cure was going to touch this.
My phone rang, buzzing against the wood table next to my bed. I’d turned the ringer off last night at some point because it kept going off. A hazy memory tugged at me, but I disregarded it. Instead, I reached for my phone and squinted at the bright display. It was Viv.
“Hey, Viv,” I answered.
“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for hours!” Her screeching voice made me pull the phone away from my ear, cringing as it reverberated through my skull.
“I’ve been sleeping. I drank too much last night.”
She sighed heavily. “Why’d you drink?”
Bianca’s face floated through my mind along with all the secrets I’d kept from her, all the things she should probably know, but I was never going to tell her. “I’m not sure. It just…happened.” And it had. One glass blended into another until I wasn’t thinking clearly, and my mind had grown black. I frowned, trying to remember what had happened. I vaguely remembered her helping me into an elevator, but things got even hazier after that.
“You really shouldn’t do that, Nash,” she said, talking to me the way my mother would if I’d let her down.
“Trust me, I’m suffering the consequences today.”
“I guess you are.” She paused a beat before launching into a million wedding things. As she droned on, I laid down and closed my eyes. I didn’t even pretend to listen to her as she talked. At this point, I was pretty sure she just wanted to hear herself talk. I must have dozed off because, the next thing I knew, Viv was screaming my name into the phone. “Why aren’t you listening to me?” she whined.
“I’m just tired. Head hurts.” I couldn’t pry my eyes open, could barely muster the energy to respond to her.
“Fine. Call me when you sober up.”
I grunted and hung up the phone. I immediately fell back asleep.
* * *
When I woke up, the room was pitch black. No light showed around the drapes. I felt better, though still hung over. This morning, I’d still been drunk. At least I was pretty sure. I remembered the conversation with Viv, but not very clearly. I rolled over and tried hard to convince myself to get out of bed that I had to pee and get more water. My mouth was still parched. Water was the only thing that’d help my sorry ass.
Eventually, I peeled myself out
of bed and took care of all of my needs, then went right back to it. It was too much work to do anything but lay in the dark. I grabbed my phone and dimmed the screen so I could stop squinting as hard. There were over twenty missed calls from Viv and more than three dozen texts asking me to call her. I cleared all of those notifications. I’d talked to her. She could wait until I wasn’t miserable.
Alcohol tended to exhaust me, and it was surely working its magic now. My eyes drifted closed again, and scenes flashed behind my eyelids. Bianca on her knees in front of me, the brown of her eyes so deep and enticing. Her lip tucked between her teeth as she gazed up at me, so sexy and vulnerable at the same time. I touched her, running my fingers over her features and relishing how soft her skin was. Then I was on the floor in front of her, kissing her face before hovering my lips over hers. God, her breath had been so sweet from the wine. It was almost like it really happened like she’d been there. Every point of my body that had come into contact with her tingled with awareness. She’d closed her eyes, silently begging me to close the distance and kiss her.
My eyes flew open, and I bolted up in the bed. That wasn’t a vivid dream—those were memories. I searched my brain for what had happened next, but nothing came. I could recall her scent, the way her lips felt as mine brushed hers, the smell of her breath, but that was it. There were big empty spots as I tried desperately to remember what I’d said, what had happened. My bed was empty, so she hadn’t stayed here. If she’d been here, there was no way I’d let her leave.
Unless I was too drunk to remember.
No, I still had my jeans on from last night. I scrubbed my hand over my face. I’d messed up even more than I thought I had. I tried calling her, but there wasn’t an answer. I texted, asking her to call me.