by Zara Cox
My fingers tightened around the glass and I wished I could down the wine. But I didn’t want to choke on the volatile emotions swirling through the room. And I really wanted to keep a clear head for this. ‘I hope you’re not about to make out like it was my fault.’
He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. ‘You think I’ve changed? You think you knew me then but don’t know me now? Take a moment and really think about it. What was the common theme running through our little circus right up until you hightailed it to Paris?’
It was my turn to frown. To cast my mind back to those turbulent years between new adulthood and beyond. The boys I casually dated when I knew I would never have Bryce. The pressures of youthful libidos. The inevitable walls I threw up. The sometimes veiled and sometimes blatant accusations. One in particular had stayed with me for months afterwards and every now and then, when Bryce crossed my mind, echoed in my head. But those words weren’t true. Whoever had said them... Colin Something-or-the-Other.
The way he hangs around you, you’d think he was hot for you or something...
Oh, God...he hadn’t been right. Had he?
‘You...’
‘Yes?’ he pushed. The mixture of anticipation and wariness on his face tripled my heartbeat. ‘What did I do, rosebud?’
‘You started dating when I did. And you broke things off almost immediately I did.’
‘Give me a few examples, let’s set the record straight properly.’
I swallowed, names coming alarmingly easily to me. ‘You started dating Darcy when I started seeing Neville and broke up with her the day after I...’
He nodded. ‘Who next?’
‘Rachel. You dumped her after your second date, right after my third date with Humph,’ I murmured.
He raised one eyebrow and waited.
‘Naomi. You were about to go out with her when I said I wouldn’t be seeing Zach again. You called and cancelled your date,’ I recounted, more than a little stunned.
Bryce exhaled long and hard, his eyes fierce. ‘And what does that tell you?’
My jaw dropped. ‘No.’
‘Yes,’ he insisted. ‘Yes, rosebud. I won’t allow you to deny it ever again.’
‘But...you...why...?’
He laughed, a scraping, charred sound. ‘You thought I was a vacuous arsehole who only cared about staying on the rugby team and dating groupies. And they weren’t, by the way. Some of those girls were pretty special. The only problem was they weren’t you. While you wouldn’t even give me the time of day for six months after we first met.’
‘So? You kinda...were.’
‘Thanks for that. That does wonders for my manhood.’
‘Don’t change the subject. I found out later you weren’t, obviously, but that doesn’t explain why...’ Again, I couldn’t give voice to the words. Saying them out loud was dangerous. And awful. And heartbreaking. It meant I’d wasted...years...when I could...when we could... I swallowed and shook my head.
‘You made it plain we couldn’t be anything but friends. The possibility that I might want more never even occurred to you.’
My jaw dropped all the way to the floor and stayed there. For some reason, that annoyed him even more.
‘Why? Why, even now, does the possibility of us fill you with horror?’ he accused.
Horror?
I scrambled to find words to express my poleaxed thoughts. Then something else occurred to me. ‘I never told you we couldn’t be more than friends.’
‘You barely tolerated me in the beginning. You couldn’t speak to me without sneering and you rolled your eyes the first, second and last time I asked you out.’
Heat engulfed my face. ‘It was self-preservation. I thought you were messing with me. You tossed those invitations out like jokes. And remember, I was the girl who carried an extra fifty pounds on her arse alone and you were...you.’
He scrubbed a hand over his nape. ‘So you slotted us into pigeonholes created in your head, sealed it up and threw away the key and, no matter what I did or said, you refused to even acknowledge that I might want something different.’
‘So every time I broke up with someone...’
‘I asked you out. And you said no.’
‘Because I didn’t want to be another notch on your belt,’ I blurted. ‘What did you do to prove I wouldn’t be? Did you expect me to read between the lines and miraculously assume you would treat me different than every other girl?’
‘Yes,’ he said tightly.
‘Bryce...’
He sighed. ‘Yeah, I know how that sounds. But...you were my best friend. I needed you to see past my issues and give me a chance.’
‘I can’t really blame you for saying that because, guess what? I expected you to do the same for me.’
We stared at each other for an age. Then he shook his head. ‘So you just moved on to the next guy who spouted off a ream of Latin or who could conjugate in fucking Spanish and then to Dan?’ His hands dropped to his lap and clenched tight. ‘Did I do that, rosebud? Did I drive you to him?’ he rasped.
The fingers clutching the wine glass trembled. ‘Dan was an opportunist who exploited my weakness when I was at my lowest. That mistake is mine alone, Bryce.’
‘I know he tried to take your company. But did he...hurt you in other ways?’
My stomach churned with bitterness and regret. ‘Nothing physical. Just a few low blows in the months before I served him with divorce papers that made me feel like I was worthless—’
‘You’re not worthless,’ he objected. ‘Don’t ever say that about yourself. Ever.’
Touched by his fierce outburst, I nodded, then took a deep breath. ‘I won’t recount everything that went on with Dan. I don’t want to give it life. But for what it’s worth, you were right. I knew I’d made a mistake very early. I think that’s partly why I stayed away too.’
For the longest time he held his breath. Then he exhaled. ‘This is the last I want to talk about him,’ he grated.
I nodded. ‘Me too.’ My mind veered from my ex with relief. Back to the previous discussion. ‘I still want to know why you didn’t say anything about...wanting more...even in the days before my wedding.’
‘And risk losing our friendship? Call me a glutton for punishment but I preferred to just be friends than nothing at all.’
God.
Everything inside me shook. Flesh and blood and bone. ‘Glutton for punishment?’
He studied me for a moment, took in my shock. After a minute, his jaw clenched hard. ‘I’m not confessing undying love if that’s what that terrified look on your face is all about.’
Something fragile but vital ripped apart in my chest. ‘Why? You were the most popular guy in our circle and even beyond. Why me?’
He shook his head, his expression resigned. ‘You still don’t get it, do you?’
‘No, I guess I don’t.’
‘Someone only had to pick a subject for you to run rings around them in a debate. You were, and still are, one of the most intelligent people I know. Your brain was a turn-on. Your body followed very closely behind. Oh, don’t curl your gorgeous mouth at me or I’ll kiss you to within an inch of your life.’
Arousal shot through me but I rolled my eyes nevertheless. ‘Promises, promises. Please, continue.’
‘You were the only one who was hung up about your weight. You know how many times I dreamt of you parking that delicious rump in my lap, gripping it while you rode my cock?’
Heat throbbed in my pussy and surged through my bloodstream. Dumb, I shook my head.
‘More times than we’ll both be able to count. But more than your body, rosebud, you made me laugh. You made me think. You made me strive to be more than just another Mortimer going through the motions until it was time to cash in my trust fund and fritter away my life on the French Riviera. Hell
, you even made going home bearable because I knew you would be at the end of the phone if and when I needed you. That was worth more to me than pushing our friendship further in case I was left with nothing.’
It was a huge struggle to pick my jaw up from the floor. ‘God, Bryce.’ My voice shook with the power of the emotion he’d evoked inside me. Pain tore through me. I opened my mouth to say something, maybe even did, but he was talking again, words I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear spilling from him.
‘If that’s pity I hear in your voice, we’re going to have a huge problem.’ His voice was a dark rumble.
‘It’s not. It’s...’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What?’
‘I just wish I’d known.’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe it was better that way.’
‘You speaking for both of us now?’
Hazel eyes slanted to me, daring me to contradict what he’d said. ‘Am I wrong?’
‘You’ve just laid a heavy load on me, Bryce. Do I get a minute to process it all?’
He stood abruptly, gathered the food we’d barely touched. ‘Don’t overthink it, rosebud. We’re older. Wiser. Whatever. This agreement we’ve got going on works just fine for me.’
This time when he walked away, I was too busy blinking away stupid tears to admire his wide shoulders. I wanted to get angry, because how typical of Bryce to lay a feast before me with one hand and yank it away with the other.
Too agitated to remain seated, I flung away the throw and stalked to the window, not turning when I sensed his return. For a minute or two he remained next to the sofa, then, like last time, he sauntered over.
‘Are you pissed off with me?’
‘You bet your arse I am. You take great relish in pointing out how wrong I was about you and then draw a line in the sand and walk off? I don’t get a chance to have a say?’
His eyes darkened. ‘What’s the point?’
‘What’s the point? Are you deliberately trying to be an arsehole?’
A muscle rippled in his jaw. ‘I’m not the same person I was back then. We can’t rewrite the past. And considering how blind it’s turned out we were to each other’s true issues, aren’t we just wasting our time?’
His words sucker-punched me into agonising silence. The kind that made me wonder if I could take another breath. As I watched him, it was clear his mind was made up. That realisation struck an ever-expanding fear inside me.
‘What if it’s my time to waste?’
He startled, then stared at me for so long and so hard I feared he could see right to the bottom of my soul. Could see and was still searching for more because what he’d seen wasn’t enough. He confirmed my fears by shaking his head.
‘It’s up to you what you want to do. Just remember our little deal and don’t hightail it out of town before we’re done. I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime, thanks.’ The words were bitter but didn’t hide the lifetime of bleak pain behind them.
I let the words settle, swallowed a mouthful of wine before tackling it. ‘You’re projecting, Bryce. I only left once. What’s this really about? Your parents?’
His face tightened. ‘You left more than once. And we’re not talking about my parents.’
‘Why not? We never do. You bottle everything up inside and wheel it out when it’s convenient to push people away.’
He sent me a fierce scowl. ‘Rosebud, leave it alone.’
‘It’s kind of hard to. You wear your family’s dysfunction like it’s some badge of honour. As if being hurt and let down and getting a little fucked up over it is an island you can retreat to when things don’t go your way.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he bit out.
‘Then tell me.’
His face closed up. For the longest time he just stared into the middle distance. My heart pounded harder with each passing second.
‘Bryce, please,’ I urged.
He blinked. ‘You know my parents abandoned us when we were kids.’
It wasn’t a question. Part of Bryce’s way of forestalling questions about his parents had been to state openly that his parents weren’t part of his life. But he’d never revealed the exact details and I’d learned not to ask.
I held my breath as he continued.
‘There are two types of Mortimers—those who would give the last drop of their blood to make the last penny for the family firm. And those who think the family name is a curse and can’t get far away from it fast enough. My father fell into the second category. He wasn’t interested in building what my great-grandfather started. He just did what needed to be done to earn his place on the board. The rest of the time he explored the true meaning of decadence and debauchery. My mother kept her nose clean long enough to produce the offspring that would ensure they fulfilled the essential quota of my great-grandfather’s family edict to access the family trust. Then they just...forgot about us.’
‘Just like that?’
He shrugged. ‘They didn’t disown us like Damian’s parents did. I think they were afraid total abandonment would earn them a black mark. My last true memory of my mother was the Christmas when I was six. She came home from a three-month bender in France and cleaned herself up in time for the family portrait. She stuck around long enough for us to open our presents before she left. That was the last time I spent any meaningful time with her.’
My heart twisted. ‘But you saw her after?’
After several seconds, he nodded. ‘She would drop in for a day out of the blue, then leave just as suddenly. It drove Gideon crazy to the point where he refused to see her.’
‘But you did?’
‘Graciela and I lived for those moments.’ His jaw clenched tight. ‘Until we didn’t.’
‘What happened?’
His eyes grew bleak a moment before he stalked towards the drinks bar, ignoring the wine that sat half-full on the coffee table.
‘The periods between her visits grew longer the older we got. One year, Graciela convinced me it would be fun to write her a letter when she hadn’t come home for about six months,’ he said tonelessly while he poured a shot of cognac. ‘She thought we could appeal to her sense of...whatever.’
A small clue fell into place about his puzzling relationship with his sister. ‘Graciela suggested it?’
‘She got the idea into her head and wouldn’t let it go. She even managed to talk Gideon into it.’
‘And?’
Time ticked by as he stared into his glass, his face a tableau of tightly held pain and anger, then he tossed the drink back. ‘She replied three months later.’
I waited to see if he would tell me. When he didn’t, I pushed. ‘What did it say?’
‘It said everything the child didn’t want to hear and everything the adult deluded himself about for a while but eventually needed to accept about himself.’
My heart twisted with anguish for him. ‘What does that mean, Bryce?’
He opened his mouth and I held my breath but when he shook his head after a tight stretch of silence, my spirits dropped. ‘She just showed me who I was.’
‘What did she say to Gideon and Graciela?’
His laugh was gritty with bitterness. ‘Nothing good, I suspect. We never spoke about it but Graciela cried herself to sleep for a bloody month after.’
‘And Gideon?’
Bryce shrugged but I saw the film of agony in his eyes. ‘If he was closed off before, he turned into a damned black hole after. Damian was the only one he responded to.’
‘That’s why you and Gideon resent Graciela, isn’t it?’
He froze where he stood. ‘Excuse me?’
‘We didn’t just talk about you in New York. She told me about her...rough relationship with Gideon. Although his new wife seems to be helping them smooth things out.’
Bryce dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘When did you two become so close?’
I shrugged. ‘I’ve always liked her. So she talked you into it and it didn’t work. I think a part of you holds her responsible for exposing you to whatever the outcome of that letter was.’
He glared at me. ‘Don’t shrink me, rosebud.’
‘Tell me I’m wrong.’
‘You’re wrong,’ he stressed through clenched teeth.
A mournful little sigh escaped before I could stop it. ‘Are you going to tell me what the letter said?’
His eyes gleamed as they rested on me for a second before dropping to my breasts. ‘No. I’d rather fuck you.’
God, I wanted that too. Badly. But I had to exercise a little control or he’d bulldoze right over me. ‘I have a full day tomorrow. I should go.’
‘It’s barely eight. According to our little game, we have a few more hours before Sunday’s out.’
A game. Was this all it was to him? I breathed through the hurt tightening in my chest and tried to think rationally.
Did I blame him? It was what we’d agreed, after all, wasn’t it? I could get up and leave and spend the rest of the night on my own, or I could seize the chance to show him...what?
That every minute that passed I cared more for him? Was he ready to hear it?
I stared back at him as I rose from the sofa but the shutters were well and truly down, at least where his emotions were concerned.
The only fire that blazed in his eyes was the sex-crazed kind. And while it kicked my pulse into gear, made my clit zing to life and my pussy throb, there was a bittersweetness wrapped around it that drained my smile as I approached him.
It also fired up a purpose in me, one that had me fine-tuning my walk so my hips swayed and my breasts bounced with pronounced emphasis. His eyes immediately grew hooded, a fine flush washing over his cheeks as he watched me.
When I reached him, I smoothly rose up on the balls of my feet and brushed my lips over his in a featherlight kiss. ‘Hmm. I can be persuaded to stay. Even model another outfit for you like I promised. Would you like that, Bryce?’