Forever (Destroyed by Love #1)

by Abrianna Denae

  "Man up already. You're depressing as fuck to be around," Terrence says from beside me.

  I was able to get him to agree to help out at the gala. I could use the moral support, though it seems he’s not very good at it.

  "It's not that simple. She's Pagan, and she's complicated. This situation is complicated."

  "It seems to me that she misses you as much as you miss her, so I don't see a problem."

  "The problem, Terrence," I say forcing my gaze away from Pagan and onto him, "is that this is about more than just missing her. This is about needing her. This is about being vulnerable with her.

  She's afraid to hurt me any more than she already has. I don't agree with her. I don't agree with any of this. But I can't just tell her we belong together. She needs to believe it."

  "Show her."

  "What?"

  "Show her," he repeats. "Look, Wy, I have never felt for anyone what you feel for her. I know that you're both going through some shit I probably can't comprehend, but I've also seen the two of you together.

  She needs you to show her. She might not know it, but it’s the truth. She doesn't want to be with you because she's afraid. But maybe that fear has more to do with what she feels for you than what she doesn't.

  I don't pretend to be an expert on women. God knows I've had my fair share of failures. But just like I know Brooke is better off with my asshole brother than without him, I know that the same can be said for you and P."

  "I hear you, Terrence. I really do. But unless you can tell me how I'm supposed to show her, it won't work."

  "If you love her, you'll know."

  Well, if that's not cryptic as fuck.

  Thankfully Tony walks in the dining room with Davis and Margie.

  When you have all three of the club managers in one meeting, you know things are serious.

  "Good evening to you all. I know it's late, and I'm sorry. Coffee and snacks will be provided, as well as cots and blankets for those who cannot drive home. Hopefully, this will only take a few hours, but in order to get it perfect we will have to work," Davis says.

  "I need my servers to help me out here," Tony says. "There are only six of you, which isn't ideal, but it'll have to do. You guys know how to serve, and you do it well. You will help out as we try to find a working system."

  "My girls will be on clean up and kitchen duty mostly," Margie interjects. "A specific protocol will be in place for those tasks, and I expect you all to follow it. We'll go through a few different practice runs. The key to cleanup is to do it quickly and efficiently without disrupting the guests."

  "There are six servers and eleven tables. Obviously, that isn't enough. Nick, how many do you need at the bar with you?" Tony asks.

  "At least two of my girls. You can have the other four."

  "Great, and then we have the two guests that Marley and Wyatt brought. Kenneth and Brenda, I can trust you two to oversee the tables on your side of the room, right? There will be five tables on each side and, of course, the Kingston table."

  "I think Marley and Wyatt can handle doing the Kingston table as well as their own," Brenda says.

  Pagan shoots Brenda a glare, and Brenda flips her off.

  "Can we be professional here, please?" Davis sighs. "Where's Rithy? I need her to write this down."

  "I'm right here. Sorry, sir." Rithy runs into the room. Well, as much as she can run in her heels.

  "Rithy, part of your job is to go where I go. You shouldn't have been late."

  "Sorry," she says, out of breath.

  Davis doesn't say anything, he just turns back to the rest of us. If Davis didn't need an assistant so badly, she'd be fired. She's good at her job when she actually does it.

  "Wyatt? Marley? Is that something y'all will be able to handle?" Tony asks, even though he knows we can.

  "Yes, sir," we both reply.

  Terrence elbows me, as if saying this is my in, but I can't see it that way. She won't even look at me.

  "Okay then, so we'll split y'all up, with Wyatt and Marley handling the Kingston table as well as individual ones. Brenda, Kenneth, Tommy, Ashley, and Jessie will take one side of the room while Wyatt, Marley, Nash, Kala, and Terrence take the other side. Tommy, Kala, and Terrence will most likely need the most supervision. I trust that those in charge will be able to fill in?"

  We all nod, and he smiles. Tony knows he can count us.

  "Good, good," Davis says. "Rithy, I hope you're writing all of this down."

  "I am," she replies, scribbling on a small notepad.

  "Let's talk about how the night is going to go. Cocktail hour will begin at five-thirty, and all servers will carry trays of either drinks or food. Those of you younger than the legal age are authorized to carry alcohol, so don’t worry. It would be too difficult to try to regulate who could have which tray.

  You'll move around the room, offering refreshments until six-thirty. When dinner begins, you will be expected to wait on your assigned table with grace and sophistication. These people are not paying two hundred dollars a plate for amateurs to serve them mediocre prime rib." Davis stops to take a breath. There are discernable circles under his eyes, this event has cost him many sleepless nights it seems.

  "Margie will be in the kitchen overseeing plating and distribution. If you have a special request from a table, you’d better make it known promptly. Otherwise it will be her you have to deal with.

  Tony and I will be circling to make sure everything is perfect, but we will not clean up your messes. This is more than just one night of elegance. This is your job on the line. This is all of our jobs on the line.

  Mr. Kingston could fire any one of us on the spot if he doesn't like what he sees. We will not let that happen."

  "Let's practice serving tables. Margie, Davis, and I will be your patrons, and one by one you will serve us as we require." Tony claps his hands together before the three of them make their way over to an empty table.

  Over and over again, we practice serving them. They make ridiculous demands, but they're not so ridiculous because a guest could very well ask for the same thing.

  At one point, Tommy trips and his whole tray tumbles to the ground. "This is why we're using plastic," Tony says.

  "The two closest to him will help cleanup," Margie calls out. "Two of my girls will rush out and clean up the mess as quickly as possible. By this point half of the room is focused on your mistake. You don't want them to be disturbed any further, so you will do this quickly and efficiently."

  We clean up so many fake accidents that I almost want to spill something for real, just to have something to do.

  By the time they're satisfied with us, it's after four a.m. "I don't want anyone leaving until they've had a few hours of rest," Davis says. "We don't need any accidents."

  The ballroom, which is connected to the dining room by a short hallway, is where the cocktail hour will take place. Davis had cots set up, and blankets are distributed. Almost everyone claims a spot, some to sleep and others to sit and rest until Davis eventually lets them go home.

  No one has to work today, so it's not like it's a big deal for us to stay here. The cleaning crew won't show up until later in the day to ensure that the rooms stay as clean as possible.

  It's funny how this place seems almost like a high school. The kitchen staff gathers in one corner of the room, and Nick's girls in a different one. Margie's girls are the odd ones out because they usually don't have interaction with those of us who work inside the club.

  Brenda pulls a cot to the furthest point in the room and turns her back on everyone.

  Davis and Margie both have couches in their offices, so they leave us. Kenneth and Tony drag two cots into the dining room for some quiet time.

  This leaves Terrence, Kala, Pagan, and I on our own. "Y'all go on ahead. Get some good blankets before Nash steals them. I need to talk to Pagan," I say, making sure to keep my voice low so no one else overhears.

  Kala and Pagan share a look. It's almost
like Pagan is pleading for Kala to stay. Terrence doesn't say anything or look at me. He tugs Kala by the arm and gently pulls her away.

  "Look at me, please." I say.

  "I can't." It’s said so low I almost don't hear her.

  "Pay, please." We're alone in the hallway. "Please, baby, just look at me."

  "I can't, Wyatt. I'm sorry, but I can't give you what you want."

  "I just want you. Same as always. It's always been you, Pagan."

  "You're breaking my heart, Wyatt."

  "I'm sorry. I hate that you're hurting. I wish I could take this pain away. I will try my hardest to fix this, but you have to give me something."

  "I ruined us. There were too many lies. We can't come back from this."

  "Yes, we can. You just have to trust me. I don't hate you for what you didn't tell me. I'm not upset. I hurt because I can't have you, but we can easily fix that."

  "Nothing about us is easy, Wyatt."

  She still hasn't looked at me. I need her to look at me. I need her to see me.

  "Pagan, I'm asking, no, I'm begging you, just look at me. I need to see your eyes, and I need you to see mine."

  "I'm scared," she admits.

  "So am I."

  Show her. Terrence's words echo in my head over and over. I know what I have to do, but I'm afraid of hurting her even more than I already have. I'm afraid of hurting myself, too.

  Stepping close to her, I don't touch her, even though I could. "Pagan," I say softly. "I need you to look at me."

  Slowly she shakes her head. Her shoulders shake, and I hear her quiet gasps as she tries to keep it together.

  I lose the fight. Tears fall fast and hot down my face. Gripping her gently by the arm, I turn her to me. She keeps her head down, eyes focused on the ground.

  I back her up until her back touches the wall. Letting go of her, I weave my fingers through her hair. She had taken it down halfway through the training.

  Pulling her head back, I capture her hazel gaze with my blue. I hate that she's still lying, that she has to hide her beautiful green eyes because she can't be vulnerable.

  "Wyatt," she whispers. I kiss her before she can say anything else.

  I kiss her, and I pour everything I have into it. My love, my anger and frustration, my hurt.

  Her soft lips yield underneath my own. She doesn't fight me as I tangle my tongue with hers. I press my body against hers. I need her to understand that this thing between us it isn't going to go away overnight.

  If she won't believe my words, then I'll make her believe my actions.

  I tear my mouth away from hers, only to trail it down her throat. My hand is still in her hair, and I pull her head further back.

  My teeth nip at her collarbone, and her hands grasp my arms.

  "Wyatt," she breathes.

  "Shh," I whisper against her skin. "Feel me, Pay, all of me. Feel my body, feel my emotion. My vulnerability. It's yours. All yours, even if you don't want it. I can't help but give it to you."

  Pulling back, I stare down at her. "Everything is yours, Pay. I can't walk away from you. I won't walk away from you.

  Tell me. Tell me you feel it too."

  "I do." She nods. "I feel everything when I'm with you. And it scares me."

  "You don't have to be afraid. I’ll protect you. Even from yourself."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure. I've never been more sure."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. Never be sorry, Pagan. You are mine, and I am yours. That's just the way it is. We will hurt ourselves from time to time, but we have to trust in the other. We have to trust in this."

  "I do. I trust you. I trust us. It'll be a long time before I can trust myself, I think. But I can do it with your help."

  "Whatever you need, Pay. I'll give you whatever you need."

  This won't fix things overnight. We still have a long way to go. But I can trust in her. I can trust in us.

  Pagan and I will only come out stronger in the end, of that I am sure.

  Chapter 31

  Wyatt

  "Let's get out of here."

  "Davis doesn't want anyone driving this late. When was the last time you slept, Wyatt?"

  Good question. "I haven't slept for more than two to three hours in eight days."

  Pagan gasps at my honesty. Her eyes fill with tears. "I'm so sorry. I can't forgive myself for what I did to you."

  "You didn't do anything. It's the situation, Pay. We didn't choose this. But we do get to choose what happens next."

  "What do you want to happen?"

  "I want to take you home. I want to hold you. I want to show you that we can love each other, despite everything against us."

  "Okay."

  "Okay. I'll text Tony to let him know we're leaving."

  "I need to tell Kala I'm leaving then. Terrence too."

  "Hurry."

  I wait in the hallway and let her tell our friends what's going on. I don't know what I'm doing, but like with everything else when it comes to Pagan, I'm just going to let it happen.

  Pagan

  Wyatt holds me tight against him as we walk into the house. I can feel the electricity crackling between us. There is so much still unsaid. We can't go eight days without speaking and then suddenly be together again.

  Things between us will never be the same, but I’m willing to try. I can't stand to know that I’m the cause of his pain.

  Wyatt is everything to me. I'm the one who has issues. I'm the one unwilling to move on from my past.

  "Pagan." He stops me from entering his room.

  "Wyatt?"

  "I need to know, Pay. I need to know that you’re here with me because you’re ready for this. For us. I don't want to push you, but I can't go through that pain again."

  "Wyatt, I've loved you for months now. You’re mine, completely. I'm sorry I made you doubt me, but there was just never a right time. I had a lot to figure out. I still have a lot to figure out.

  What I do know, what I am sure about with one hundred percent accuracy, is that I’m in love with you. It's always been you. You broke me, and you healed me, but most importantly, I know that you love me.

  Whatever happens tonight is because I want to give you everything." I pause, my breathing heavy.

  The emotional baggage I carry will still be around tomorrow, but I'm willing to let it all go. Just to get him to believe my words.

  Wyatt says nothing. He just looks at me with those beautiful eyes of his.

  I don't know what to say, so I show him instead.

  My back hits the door as his body collides with mine. Our kiss isn't sweet. It's raw passion. It's everything I've always wanted in a kiss and then some.

  Rough, yet sweet at the same time.

  My hands run down his chest to the hem of his T-shirt. Wyatt lifts his arms for me, allowing me to lift the shirt up and then off.

  His hands trail down my arms, linking with my fingers. He brings my arms up over my head, pressing them to the door.

  One of his hands encircles my wrists, and the other trails slowly down my sides. We're watching each other, each pant timed with perfect rhythm.

  The only time we lose our connection is when he removes my shirt.

  His arms wrap around my waist, effortlessly picking me up. My legs automatically wrap around his hips, and I can feel him through our clothes.

  Wyatt moves away until my back is no longer touching the door, and then he opens it.

  He trips on our discarded clothing. I'm lucky he didn't drop me.

  Wyatt sets me on the bed, and I kick off my shoes. Slowly he does the same. This is the same game we've been playing for weeks now, only it's different this time. There's so much more.

  When he undoes his pants and slips them off, I shimmy out of my skirt.

  Scooting back to the middle of the bed, I watch Wyatt and wait for him to make a move.

  "Lose the contacts," he says. "I want to see you. All of you."

  Quickl
y, I remove them and drop them in his outstretched hand. "I never want you to hide your eyes again, Pagan," he says, throwing the contacts in the trash.

  "Okay."

  When Wyatt climbs onto the bed next to me, my heart stops for a beat. This is real.

  We stare at each other for a few seconds. Both of us are so insecure. Insecure in ourselves, but secure in each other.

  “Wyatt,” I say softly.

  He doesn’t let me continue. His hand grabs mine, and our fingers intertwine. His other hand travels up my arm and across my shoulder, his fingers pressing against my pulse point. My heart beats rapidly, my breaths short.

  Wyatt takes a deep breath. His lips part, and his hand travels from my neck to my collarbone, across to the valley between my breasts. I close my eyes. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this.

  This is so much more than sex. I might not be losing my virginity like Wyatt, but I’m losing something to him.

  My heart.

  Possibly my soul as well. It's all his.

  Suddenly his hands disappear from my body, but I don’t open my eyes. Wyatt grabs one of my hands and brings it to his face. “Touch me, please,” he whispers.

  My fingers follow the path they know so well. They skim over his lips, his jaw, and his throat before traveling down to his shoulder and across his collarbone. I trace every inch of him with just my fingertips.

  It’s only when I graze the waistband of boxers do I look at him again. Wyatt’s eyes are so very clear. They’re focused on my face, on my reaction.

  "Take these off," I whisper, bringing my hands up to remove his glasses. "You don't need to see, you just need to feel."

  I place a hand directly over his heart, and he does the same to me. A simple brush of his lips has me reaching behind my back. I'm desperate for this, for him, for us.

  His chest is flushed, and I’m sure mine is as well. My hands tremble as I undo the clasp on my bra.

  Wyatt's jaw clenches when I toss it to the floor.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he brings his hand up to gently cup my breast. I feel my face flush with heat. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s not like I haven’t had this done to me before. I’ve had sex with two other guys before Wyatt. But that was before.