by A. M. Myers
“Jesus fucking Christ,” someone whispers and I turn back to Ash as he sinks down to one knee and pulls a ring out of his pocket. His hand shakes violently as he holds it up to me and meets my eyes.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
“Rowan Grace Archer,” Ash says as he wipes his free hand on his jeans. He honestly looks like he’s about to throw up and I take a tiny step back. “I think I’ve loved you since the first day I met you and I know I made a huge mistake but you’re my world…”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Lincoln growls and I peek back at all of the people behind us, searching the group for the one person I want to see more than anyone else but he’s gone. Frowning, I turn back to Ash as he continues his proposal but my mind spins with thoughts of Travis.
“Everything since you left has been awful and I realized just how much I need you in my life. I want to spend forever with you, baby, and I’ll do anything to make you happy. Will you marry me?”
He can’t be serious.
Right?
I mean, not once since I walked out of the apartment that night have I given him the impression that there was ever a chance between us so it makes no sense that he’s here, down on one knee and asking me to marry him. And if I didn’t know I was in love with Travis before, I sure as hell would now since I can’t seem to push thoughts of him from my mind. Shaking my head, I take a step forward and cover his hand with mine before pushing it down. “Ash… no.”
“No?” he asks, bewildered, and I shake my head again as his gaze bounces around the group. There’s no way he’s surprised by my answer…. Right? He jumps to his feet and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No?!”
“Hey, she gave you an answer,” Lincoln snaps. “Which seems like more than you deserve and now it’s time for you to leave.”
“Whatever. I should have known better than to try and make a whore into a house wife,” he snarls, his eyes burning a hole through me with their hatred before he turns his glare to my brother and smiles. “You know she was a stripper, right?”
My stomach drops and I gasp, taking a step back as Lincoln lunges at Ash, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him toward the gate with no regard for the protestors out front. My heart races as I watch them. Ash knew damn well that my brother had no idea what I was doing for work in Alaska and as I think about what Lincoln is going to say when he gets back, my stomach rolls.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Tate whispers, wrapping her arm around my shoulders, and I notice that everyone else has moved away from us, pretending that they’re minding their own business when clearly, they’re not. Glancing over at Tate, I shake my head.
“I never wanted him to know.”
She nods. “I know but he’ll get over it, sweetie. He loves you way too much not to.”
We watch Lincoln stop in front of the gate and punch in the code before sliding it open and tossing Ash out into the protestors as their screaming gets louder. After shutting the gate again and making sure it’s locked, he marches back over to us and I take a step forward as my heart pounds so fiercely it feels like it’s going to smash into my rib cage.
“Lincoln…”
He holds a hand up to stop me but doesn’t say a word as he turns and stomps into the clubhouse. The door slams and Tate follows after him, flashing me a reassuring look as tears sting my eyes. I turn to look at Ash as he stands on the other side of the fence, smirking at me like he’s enjoying watching my whole life fall apart around me. Turning away, my gaze lands on Warren in the middle of the crowd and just like on the roof, it seems like he’s looking right at me and I glance over to where Travis was standing before he disappeared as a tear slips down my cheek. I’ve never felt more alone in my life and for the first time in a month, I wonder if coming to Baton Rouge was a mistake.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Travis
Pressing the bottle of bourbon to my lips, I tip it back and let the liquor pool in my mouth before swallowing it down with a wince as I slam the bottle back on the bar. The bourbon leaves a burn in its wake, blazing down my throat before settling into a comforting warmth in my stomach but no matter how many times I repeat the process, I don’t feel any of the relief I’m desperately searching for. If it was going to drown out my pain, it should have by now since I’m halfway through the fucker. I arch a brow and lift up the bottle, swishing the liquid around on the inside before setting it back down with a sigh. The image of that loser getting down on one knee in front of Rowan plays through my mind, the same way it has since the moment I walked away from them and my chest burns at the thought of his ring on her finger. It’s hard to imagine that she actually said yes to him but I didn’t stick around to find out and I spent most of the day in my room, avoiding everyone.
I picture her in a white dress, walking down the aisle to that asshole and grab the bottle, taking another swig of bourbon before shaking my head. She wouldn’t say yes…Then again, how in the hell did he know she was here in Baton Rouge? My mind flashes back to the morning we went to go see Tawny and our breakfast afterward. She told me that it was better to find out about his cheating now and that she hadn’t been that upset by finding him with another girl but she also admitted to putting on a brave face at the time. Could she have started talking to him again? Is that why there has been this distance between us lately? Is she going back to him?
But if that were the truth, why wouldn’t she just tell me?
We’ve always agreed that things between us were casual and had an expiration date so if she wanted to get back with this douche bag, she would have just said something. Right? Fuck, why does that bother me just as much, though? Sighing, I grab the bottle and take another swig of bourbon before slamming it back onto the bar. An image of her with that little shit pops into my head and I grit my teeth, remembering the way her skin felt beneath my fingertips and the way she moaned my name. It’s been four days since the last time I was with her and each one feels like an eternity. I’m losing my fucking mind over here and the one thing that can make me feel better, the one person I need can’t even stand to be in the same room as me.
What did I do?
My eyes burn and my chest aches as the morning the protestors showed up plays through my mind. We woke up in bed together and her smile was so damn bright and happy, making me believe that everything was going to work out, that we all stood a chance. I remember pressing my lips to her neck and inhaling her scent - hazelnut and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on but it always makes me think of warmth and comfort - and I slipped inside her, kissing her and making love to her until we were both shaking. And then everything fell apart. Pain splinters through me and I grab the bottle, flinging it at the wall and watching it shatter into a hundred pieces but even that doesn’t relieve the ache in my chest.
Fuck.
I miss her.
“Are you okay?”
I spin around and meet her eyes as she stands at the entrance of the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans against the wall in her sleep shorts and tank top, watching me with a cautious gaze.
I wish she would look at me the way she used to.
Every part of me wants to close the distance between us, pull her into my arms, and tell her we’re done with the bullshit but instead, I scoff and turn back to the bar. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Clearly,” she whispers and I peek back at her as she walks across the room. She goes to step behind the bar and I jump up.
“Stop!” I yell, making her jump as she looks up at me with wide eyes. “You don’t have shoes on and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She glances down at the broken glass on the floor before nodding and climbing onto one of the bar stools as I walk behind the bar and grab a broom. When I peek over at her again, she’s staring down at the bar top and picking at it, refusing to meet my eyes but I can’t look away from her and my mind wills her to glance up. Just one look from her – that’s all I need r
ight now to know that there’s a little bit of hope for us but she refuses to meet my gaze and my throat feels tight as I turn and start sweeping up the glass.
“Did you say yes?” I hiss, clenching the broomstick as my stomach rolls at the thought.
Jesus Christ.
What the hell is wrong with me and what am I going to do with myself if she did agree to marry that fucker?
She sucks in a breath and I look up, unable to stop myself. Our eyes meet and the pain in her eyes shocks me to my core. I stumble back a few steps, glass crunching under my boots, but I still can’t pull my gaze from hers. God, I’ve missed those eyes and even when she looks like she’s about to cry, she’s still the prettiest girl I’ve ever fucking seen. Her brows furrow as she studies me before slowly shaking her head and glancing down at the bar top again.
“Do you even fucking care, Travis?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
She shakes her head and her breathing stutters, a sure sign that she is going to cry and I scowl as my grip on the broomstick tightens and it creaks under the strain.. “Nothing.”
None of this makes any goddamn sense and I have no idea what I can do to get her to open up to me but I know we can’t keep going like this. We’re both clearly miserable and one of us needs to put an end to it. She releases a heavy breath and slips off of the bar stool before turning and walking away from me. My heart jumps into my throat and I drop the broom, jumping over the bar before I even have time to register the move and closing the distance between us. She gets halfway across the room before I catch her, pulling her into my arms.
“What do you mean, Princess? Why would you ask me if I care?”
Silence descends over us but I wait, dead set on just holding her in my arms until she tells me what’s wrong or it fixes itself. Either way works for me and I’ll never say no when it comes to having her here, like this. She presses her hands and her forehead to my chest and I close my eyes as I pull her closer, feeling like myself again for the first time in four days.
“Come on, Row. Please talk to me,” I plead and she shakes her head, slipping out of my grasp before I can stop her.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
I watch her for a second as she takes off for her room before going after her. This, whatever it is, ends now and we’re not leaving a bedroom until she and I are back to normal. She gets all the way into her room before I’m able to grab her hand and spin her back to face me. Closing the door behind me, we stumble back into the wall and I cup her cheek in my hand, forcing her gaze to mine.
“No. Fuck that. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine, Rowan.”
Tears gather in her eyes and her bottom lip trembles as she tries to look away from me but I won’t let her. “Please don’t do this, Travis.”
“Why?” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers and closing my eyes. “Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I kiss you anymore?”
“Please.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not letting you go this time. Why have you been avoiding me? I miss you so much, baby, and I… I need you.”
“Travis,” she pleads, planting her hand on my chest and trying to push me away but I won’t budge. Instead, I lean in and let my lips brush against hers as she closes her hand into a fist, gripping my t-shirt. “You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand? Talk to me about it because I meant what I said, I’m not letting you go… unless you really did say yes to that asshole’s proposal today?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t.”
“Then you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Princess,” I urge, desperate to hear her say the words but she shakes her head again as my throat tightens and I clench my teeth.
“I can’t.”
Come on, baby.
Give me what I want.
The last time we were this close pops into my mind and I remember how distant she was until I threw her over my shoulder and she got pissed off at me. I don’t particularly want to make her mad but at this point, I’ll do whatever it takes to get her to open up. Sucking in a breath, I grip her jaw in my hand and her eyes pop open like I just pressed the magic button. She stares up at me with wide eyes filled with surprise and there’s a little spark of something else, something I recognize and I can’t help but smile.
“There you are.”
She narrows her eyes and tries to jerk out of my hold but she’s not going anywhere. “Let me go.”
“Not until you say you’re mine.”
“Fuck you,” she seethes, gritting her teeth, but there is still an incredible amount of pain in her eyes that I just can’t make sense of no matter how hard I try. Leaning in closer, I press my body to hers as she leans back against the wall.
“Gladly, but first, tell me what happened between us. What am I missing, Rowan?”
She lifts her chin in an act of defiance and locks gazes with me as my heart stalls at the walls she’s built to keep me out. I can see them shining in her eyes, so strong but I don’t back down. I can’t. Our breaths tangle in the space between us and I shift my body, pressing into her as I demand her surrender with just a look. Little by little and brick by brick, I see her defenses start to crumble and I resist the urge to grin as I brush my thumb over her cheek to encourage her to open up to me. Just when I think she’s exactly where I want her, she drops her gaze to the floor.
“Look at me.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Look at me,” I urge, brushing my thumb over her cheek again and she tips her head back but her eyes are squeezed together, shutting me out. I stare down at her beautiful face for a moment, trying to think of something I can do to get her to open her eyes but when a tear slips down her cheek, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stand to see her cry and she may hate me right now but I know this is what she needs. Blowing out a breath, I lean in and claim her lips, commanding her body to relent to me. It’s stiff at first and she pushes on my chest but not enough to make me think she actually wants me to stop so I flick my tongue against the seam, demanding entrance. She sighs as her lips part and she melts into me just like every other time and every cell in my body sings at the small victory. This is always where we’re meant to be, just like this in each other’s arms, and she knows it as much as I do. Gripping my t-shirt in her hands, she makes a pleading sound in the back of her throat as she pulls me closer like she can’t stand to be away from me anymore and I smile into her kiss.
Fucking finally.
Bending down, I pick her up and press her back against the wall again as she wraps her legs around my waist and throws her arms over my shoulders, her kiss growing hungry and desperate. I can’t fucking blame her though. These past four days have been hell and I’ve missed her so damn much that this feels like a dream.
“Say you’re mine, Rowan,” I command, pulling my torso away from her as she leans back into the wall with her shoulder and shakes her head. Reaching down, she tugs on my shirt before pulling it up over my head. As soon as it hits the floor behind me, I pull her back to me and seal her lips to mine again, pulling her away from the wall and walking over to the couch. I sink into it with her straddling my thighs and she plants her hands on my chest, her hips rocking against me as she whimpers into the kiss. She drags her lips to my neck and kisses a line down to my shoulder as my head falls back and my hands slip under her shirt.
“Take my clothes off, Travis,” she whispers, working her way back up to my lips and I groan when we connect, dragging her shirt up her body before only pulling away long enough to rip it over her head. Her bra comes next, hitting the floor behind her, and I cup her tit in my hand before sucking her nipple into my mouth. Gasping, she arches her back, pushing her chest closer to me and I flick the sensitive little bud with my tongue, pulling a breathy moan out of her before I release her with a pop.
“Give me what I want, baby.”
She shakes her head, rocking her hips against my cock and I thrust up into her a
s I grit my teeth but it’s not enough. I fucking need her and I’m desperate to feel her skin on mine. With a growl, I grip a chunk of her hair and pull her lips back down to mine as I grab her hip with my other hand and help her grind on my lap. She pulls away and stumbles off my lap with ragged breaths. My heart jumps into my throat as I glance at the door, wondering if she’s going to make a run for it but when I turn back to her, she’s unbuttoning her jeans and nodding to mine.
“Off.”
I resist the urge to smile as I pop the button of my jeans. Fire lights up her eyes for the first time in days and like an addict, I can’t get enough. After shoving my jeans down my legs and kicking them off, I sit back down on the sofa and wrap my hand around my cock as I watch her slide her red lace panties down her legs. As she kicks them across the room, she looks up and her eyes lock with mine, all of that attitude and sass I love so much shining back at me and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. There she is. These little moments of the way things were between us before a few days ago keep giving me hope that this isn’t truly over and as soon as one ends, I’m impatiently waiting for the next one.
“Come here,” I tell her, holding out my hand and color stains her cheeks as she walks back to me and climbs onto my lap. Reaching up, I press my hand to her cheek and search her eyes as she stares down at me but she’s not giving anything away. Those fucking walls are back up in full force, completely blocking me from her thoughts.
I fucking hate it.
“Touch me, Travis,” she whispers, the look in her eyes shifting to a plea as she rocks her hips on my lap and I groan, pulling her down to kiss her as I drag my other hand up her thigh.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”
She moans and reaches between us, wrapping her fingers around my cock. “Please.”
“You want me to touch you?” I ask, peppering her lips with quick kisses that just tease and she nods frantically, pumping my length in her hand. Fuck, it feels so good that I just want to lose myself in her but I’m on a mission tonight. I go in for another kiss but this one is different, softer, lingering, and when she starts to melt into me, just when she thinks I’m going to give her what she wants, I pull back. “Tell me you’re mine.”