“Oh, God,” John muttered, suddenly lowering his voice to a whisper. He started speaking slower, kinder, but that didn’t make the shit coming out of his mouth smell any better. “Are you gonna need to go to the clinic again? Seriously? Sydney, this is getting old. Why can’t you stay away from him?”
What. The. Fuck. The clinic? As in the place you go for like STD or abortions? What the hell was he talking about? I didn’t know exactly, but everything inside me snapped. I wanted to rip this asshole’s head clean off his shoulders. And I was about to do just that and start something when Sydney spoke first.
“John, you’re embarrassing me,” she told him, her voice extremely calm and even.
It occurred to me then…that a different girl in this situation might have started crying. But, unlike a little earlier, there was no trace of tears on her face. Actually, I had to reevaluate my whole previous thought process. Because I could feel something radiating off her now—something strong, something badass, something that made me sorry I’d doubted her sincerity toward me for even a second.
“Do you have any cash?” she asked me. “I only have a credit card.”
Yes, I had cash. I had plenty of cash on me. Always. Bartenders always have cash. And I understood what she meant. She wanted to pay the bill. She wanted to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. I didn’t hesitate to comply. It wasn’t like I was ever going to let her pay anyway. I dropped a few twenties on the table, our mediocre server getting incredibly lucky because our bill wasn’t nearly worth that much, and stood up from my seat. She did the same.
“We’re not having this conversation here,” she said to her brother.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
I think he expected her to walk away—without me. Because the moment that we all started to leave, and she grabbed hold of my arm—something that made my heart freaking jump inside my chest—he looked at her like she’d just drawn some sort of line in the sand. Or like her head was on fire and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “So that’s how it is?” he asked.
“That’s how it is,” she repeated.
The tension that followed could have made even the toughest man on earth squirm. Of course I was thrilled that Sydney had essentially stood up for me, for us, and defended our relationship all in one bold move. But her brother was a dick, unnecessarily, and I pretty much hated him with a passion now. I wasn’t the scum of the earth like he seemed to think I was. I could protect his sister. Hell, I would protect her even from him if need be. And right now, that need was coming close to being.
We walked through the lobby. Then outside.
“What did he mean about you going to the clinic?” I asked the moment we were all alone, standing beside the edge of the building, a safe distance away from other people.
“He made me have an STD test after our first time together. And a pregnancy test.”
“Wow.” There was fire instantly in my voice as I said this to John, not to Sydney. Because it was fucked up how much he hated me. Plus, if Sydney needed to go through any of that then she should have gone through it with me. “Was everything okay?” I asked Sydney now, my tone much gentler with her. “You weren’t pregnant were you? Then or now?”
“No. Of course not,” she said.
“Then or now?” I repeated. I needed her to be specific. It had been months since our first time together and if something horrible had happened in that time between, as in she’d gotten pregnant with our child, had it aborted, and I knew none of this—then I wasn’t sure how I’d react. Not well, I suppose. Not well at all. “Fuck. Now I’m freaking.”
“Don’t. I was never pregnant!” she snapped at me. “End of story. Then or now.”
“Okay.” I threw my hands up. “Sorry. I had to know for sure.”
She nodded, her anger dissipating as fast as it had appeared. “Well, I wasn’t.”
“Well, now I’m wondering how many other times he’s had to ask this question,” John muttered under his breath.
“Zero,” I grunted.
John huffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Stop it, John,” Sydney interrupted. Her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes moved to her brother. “You can’t talk this way to Rhett anymore. Not in front of me—or ever. I’m serious, John. I never question your decisions. I’ve always supported you with everything. You have to do the same for me, stop being so cynical, and let me live my own life. Even if this is about to be some giant mistake, you’re going to have to let me make that mistake.”
John exhaled for what felt like ten seconds. I wasn’t about to be some giant mistake to her. I knew that with absolute certainty. I think, because of my past with other women, it was going to take me a little more time to fully prove that to Sydney. But I loved her for saying this to John, for standing up to him on my behalf. He needed to hear it, even if he would always hate my ass. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll let you make your mistake. I won’t get in your way or say another thing about it. On one condition though—you come home with me today. Not home to North Carolina but home to New York. It’s almost Thanksgiving. We should both be there. With the family. And if you’re not here to see Ben, only Rhett, then you can do that any time at home.”
Sydney didn’t speak for a minute. The last thing I wanted was for her leave me at this point. We’d only just gotten together. What if the relationship we’d built in one day wasn’t enough to last however long it would be until I saw her again? And John had an angle. I knew he did. He purposely wanted to take her away from me as fast as possible.
“Fine,” she told him. “I’ll pack my stuff. We’ll go.”
“Good. I’ll get us a cab and work on getting our tickets changed for a flight out later tonight,” John said with his phone already halfway out of his pocket. “Bye, Rhett,” he added, throwing one rather devious smile my way.
That fucker!
I shot him a nasty look. I knew he was up to something. I knew he had some sort of plan against me brewing in his head.
“Come on, Rhett,” Sydney said softly, tugging on my hand. “Come with me to pack my stuff.”
It was a relief having her to myself again. It wasn’t a relief knowing she’d be leaving me way too soon. We hurried through the lobby, back toward the elevators, and the moment we were alone behind closed metal doors—she kind of exploded.
“My brother is being such a jerk. I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. He’s not normally like that, I promise. He’s normally cool. But that was unacceptable and I feel horrible.” She paced, kind of like a trapped animal. Then the elevator door clicked open and she immediately stepped off, rushing for the rooms. I had to jog to keep her pace. Before we even entered, she already had her dress halfway untied. And the second we were safely behind the door, she let the material fall to the floor. She wore nothing but a pair of black, lace underwear, and she used her arm to cover her breasts.
“Don’t worry about your brother,” I said, swallowing. My mouth had gone rather dry—seeing her in front of me so deliciously naked and not being able to act wasn’t easy. Plus, no matter how many times I’d seen it, her beauty was always stunning, always something that took my breath away. “What are you doing?” I choked out. “Teasing me?”
“No. Changing.” She picked out some clothes from one of the suitcases, presumably hers, on the floor. “I can’t wear that dress if I’m going to New York. I’ll freeze.” Then she took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.
A second later she came back out in jeans and a bulky, black sweater. Her arms were filled with toiletry items. She carried them past me and dumped them into her bag. “There,” she announced. “Packed.” Bending over, she zipped up her bag then grabbed it by the handle and heaved into onto her bed. “I’m freaking out a little,” she whispered.
“I can tell.”
“What am I supposed to tell Georgie? That my overprotective brother showed up on a whim because he had a bad feeli
ng? Then he flipped out when he saw me with you and is making me go home?” She buried her face in her hands for a moment. “This vacation officially sucks.”
Well, this vacation happened to be the best of my life. So…
“Blame it on Ben,” I suggested. “Or me. Or both of us. I don’t care.” I stood beside the bed, a little too apprehensive to approach her. My feelings were suddenly mixed. If the situation were reversed I would have told my brother to go fuck himself. I kind of wished she would have done exactly that. I know he was her family…but still. “You realize that your brother is full of shit, right? And that he’s purposely taking you away from me as fast as possible.”
She sighed, her eyes narrowing at me slightly. “John’s just trying to protect me. That’s been his job since he was ten years old. Even if the way he comes across is harsh, I know he means well. And I do value his opinion. Do you remember someone named Shelley?”
“Who?” I didn’t know a single person named Shelley.
“Never mind. She’s not important. But I better get going.” She stood from the bed, grabbing her bag, lugging it toward the door.
“Wait. Now I need to know. Who’s Shelley?” I questioned, following her.
“Just an ex-girlfriend of John’s. Someone you slept with once. It doesn’t matter.”
Okay then. I guess that explained a lot. Not only had I slept with John’s little sister, but someone from his past too. A redhead with glasses popped into my head. Maybe I vaguely remembered this Shelley person. Whoever she was…Sydney was right, she wasn’t important. But I understood a little bit better now where John was coming from. Sort of.
Sydney reached for the door handle, swinging it open, like she was about to leave without saying anything more. Thoughts of Shelley, or whoever she was, dissipated. “Hey, hey, hey,” I said, hurrying to the door, gently pulling Sydney’s hand off the handle, and stepping in between her and the door. “Look at me,” I whispered. “Are we okay?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “How can I love someone that my brother hates so much?”
Shit. Ouch.
Her words were like a kick straight to the gut. The air instantly was knocked from my lungs. And what made everything worse—was the use of the word ‘love’ in that same awful sentence. I hardly knew how to respond.
“I’d better go,” she said. Standing on her toes, she gave me a small goodbye kiss on my lips.
I did nothing in response to her kiss.
I only let her go.
CHAPTER 17:
SYDNEY
I missed Rhett. It was this sinking feeling that hit me the moment the plane heading toward JFK sped down the runaway and the wheels left solid ground. As we climbed higher and higher in altitude, I felt worse and worse. I still stood by my decision to leave. But that didn’t mean I didn’t miss him. Or that I didn’t feel like complete shit.
All I could think about was the panic attack he’d had on the flight out to LA. What if something like that happened on the return flight? I felt nauseated just thinking about it.
“You should get some sleep,” John suggested, pushing the recline button on his first-class seat. He started moving backward until he was nearly parallel with the floor. “The Carters are in town this week. And I know Mom’s going to be planning a million things with them over the next few days.”
I groaned in agony. The Carters were old family friends. They were entitled, snobbish, and pretty much horrible people. Why my family had remained close friends with them all these years was a mystery. Probably because my parents had gone to high school with them, then college, and then on at least one vacation with them per year for the last twenty-some years. Actually, they weren’t that bad, ‘horrible people’ was a bit too harsh of a label, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see them.
“You know,” John said, still fiddling with the buttons on his chair. “I saw Heath the last time I was in New York. He didn’t grow up to be quite the douche you’d expect. Pretty normal, actually. You might be surprised.”
“Oh. My. God,” I griped. “You better not even be thinking about setting me up with him. You’re so against anything and everything posh and money and upper class/high society. And then suddenly you’re booking us first class seats on Virgin, which I’m sure you used Mom and Dad’s money for, and you start pushing Heath Carter on me. Heath Carter. Ew. I don’t care how little you think of Rhett, you and I both know Rhett is a million times better for me than Heath Carter.”
John sighed, grabbing his pillow and smothering it over his face. “First class was all they had left,” he said, his voice muffled into the pillow. “So yeah, I used Mom and Dad’s credit card. And Heath Carter is not that bad. At least we know he’s STD free.”
That pissed me off to no end. I slugged John on his leg. As hard as I could, too.
“Ouch,” he said, yanking the pillow away from his face. “What was that for?”
“You like to act like you’re not as close-minded as everyone else we know from Mom and Dad’s world. But you know what?” I harshly whispered at him. “You’re still one of ‘them’—still just as judgmental and entitled and conceited as ever. On the outside you don’t look like you belong, but on the inside you fit right in with the rest of them. A sheep in a wolf’s clothing—that’s what you are.”
“That’s bullshit.” He said the words, but his voice hardly sounded convincing anymore. I’d struck a chord. A big one. Everything in life John did was a testament against his old life. His hair, his piercing, his tattoos—all were meant as a big ‘fuck you’ to the world we’d come from. I could tell it bothered him immensely that I was questioning his whole identity.
“Then give Rhett a chance,” I pleaded. “People change. You changed—or at least I used to think so. Is it so hard to believe that he might have changed too? The only thing you have against him is his promiscuous past. Other than that, what else do you even know about him? Nothing. I think it’s safe to say I know his character a little better than you. And he has a good character. And if you’re saying that he can’t change his manwhore ways…then you’re saying I’m not worth changing for. Is that what you’re saying, John?”
“Jesus, Sydney,” my brother groaned, pushing the button to sit his seat back in the upright position. “You should be a fucking lawyer. Fine. I will give him a chance.”
“A real chance?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t try to set me up with Heath Carter?” This shiver ran up my spine. Seriously, Heath Carter was about the last guy on earth I’d ever consider.
“I won’t set you up with Heath Carter,” he repeated. “Now can you apologize for calling me one of them? I am not one of them. That was harsh.”
“Sorry,” I told him. “You’re not one of them…most days.”
John laughed and I knew we were fine. We were brother and sister—we’d perfected the ability to fight and make-up many years ago. I also knew John would give Rhett something of a chance now. He wasn’t the type to back out on his word. But the problem was…I’d said a couple things to Rhett I shouldn’t have said before leaving him in that hotel room. My whole ‘how can I love someone that my brother hates so much’ statement had been a bitchy thing to say and it was already haunting me. What if I’d screwed everything up in one awful moment of doubt? Now I had to wait five more hours until we landed and until I could try to contact him.
I reclined my seat, though there was no chance in hell I’d be getting any sleep on this flight.
* * *
It was snowing in New York. The heavens had opened up and they were spitting white stuff at me. The heaviest article of clothing I had was my black sweater, which I currently wore. I hadn’t brought anything more than this because I hadn’t ever planned on being here.
“You want my coat?” John offered, as we stepped outside into the freezing cold.
“No,” I snapped, my teeth clattering together. “Just hurry and get us a cab—please.”
There wa
s a line of them waiting to pick up passengers. So I didn’t have to brave the cold for very long. My cell phone had about five percent battery life left, meaning a phone call to Rhett would have to wait. As I followed John into the cab, I decided to send him a quick text. My phone had enough battery for that much.
Me: I made it to New York. I know it’s early on the West Coast, but can I call you soon?
No response.
Fifty minutes later and one hell of an expensive taxi ride across town, I still hadn’t heard back from Rhett. John and I made it to my parent’s Manhattan apartment. After hugs and greetings and some half-assed version of the truth about our sudden arrival at eight thirty in the morning was exchanged with my parents, I slipped away to my room. Immediately, I dug my phone charger out of my bag and had my phone plugged in.
Pacing around my room for a minute, I then tried to call Rhett. I’d always had his number. Noah gave it to me months ago ‘just in case I ever needed to reach him for anything.’ At that time, I’d never thought I’d use it. Now I needed it. I also needed him to answer. I was feeling pretty damn desperate at the moment. And then…
No freaking answer.
“Leave a message,” was all his voicemail said. It was weird hearing his voice like this—it made me feel even more disconnected from him somehow.
“Hey,” I said awkwardly into the phone. “Um, I can’t get ahold of you.” Well, duh, obviously since I was talking to his voicemail. “Um, call me back when you can. Oh, and your voicemail sucks. You should probably record a new one. Oh, and this is Sydney…in case you were wondering.”
I hung up the phone. It was possible he wasn’t awake yet. It was also possible the group had gone out to do more touristy Los Angeles stuff today. Or maybe they were spending more time with Ben. I had no clue. I left my phone on the plug and then headed out my room to join my family.
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