“Uh oh. I can already see where this is going.” My head turned back when I heard my brother’s voice. “Deep breath and step, sis. Deep breath and step.”
“I know how to walk, Rob, but thanks for the tip,” I said.
He shrugged, smiling as he stared ahead at the group of guys. “I walked before you, so I figured you might need a little help.”
I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “Actually, I walked before you, thank you very much.”
“Yeah right,” he said with a scoff. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. “You’re in charge of your sail,” he said against my hair. “Say it.”
“I’m in charge of my sail,” I said, taking a deep breath. “What am I going to do without you when I move?”
“Easy,” he said, dropping his arm and leaning away to look at me. “Don’t go.”
“Ha ha,” I said, smiling at him. “You know I’m not going to pass up this job.”
Rob let out a long breath. “I’m just saying—if you’re with me, you’re twinning, and if you leave, well, you won’t be.”
I laughed, pushing him off me. “You’re so stupid. We’re always twinning.”
We started walking toward the group; Rob’s presence gave me the strength I needed to keep my head held high. There was a time in my life that I hated being a twin. Even though I didn’t have a girl twin, with matching clothes and all the competition that came from that, I still felt overwhelmed by it sometimes. More often than not, it was a fleeting feeling, because at the end of the day nobody understood me the way my brother did, and I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the twin thing or if it was just a sibling thing in general, but I was glad to have him. That was why when I got this incredible opportunity to take photos for a magazine in New York, I actually gave it a lot of thought. Two years ago I would have jumped on that opportunity, but I felt like the older I got, the more important family was becoming to me, and the thought of leaving them behind was something that wasn’t as appealing as it once was.
“Hey, Meep, you look beautiful,” Oliver said once we reached them.
“Thanks. You look fucking hot, but what else is new?” I said, making all of them laugh. All of them except one. The one who made my heart hurt every time I laid eyes on him, so I tried not to look directly at him.
“Ready to get married?” Rob asked Oliver, who flashed him the biggest smile I’d ever seen.
“I’m already married, but yeah, I’m ready to marry her again, and again, and again,” he said, earning a groan from Victor.
“Please stop there. I’m afraid what your next comment will be, and I really don’t want this day to be ruined for all of us.”
“Did you get the present?” I asked, ignoring Victor’s plea and adding fuel to the fire as Oliver started chuckling loudly.
“Oh yeah. Thank you for taking those. I’m going to make her reprise the roles in some of them,” he said.
“What roles? What are you talking about?” Victor asked, because his nosiness knew no bounds.
“The boudoir shoot I did for Elle,” I replied. Rob started coughing beside me, Jensen added an “Okay, that’s enough of that,” but Victor just looked at me, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.
“Boudoir shoot,” I said. “You know . . . sexy pictures?”
“Of my sister?” he practically yelled. “Okay. I’m sorry I asked. I’ll see you guys at the altar!”
We all laughed as we watched him retreat from the conversation. He stopped only to say hi to Sophie and offer her his arm, then shot us an impatient look.
“That’s my cue,” Oliver said. “I have to walk in first. Where’s my mom?” he asked, looking at me.
“I have no clue,” I replied, looking around.
“There she is!” Rob said, pointing at Oliver’s mom, who walked in with an unfamiliar looking man and another woman.
“Now there’s a picture I never thought I’d see,” Oliver said as he walked over to them. Jensen chuckled as he looked over at them, and I swear I felt my insides shake in its wake.
“That’s his dad?” Rob asked Jensen.
“Yeah, and his stepmom,” Jensen answered, still looking at the trio.
“They seem friendly,” Rob said.
“Yeah, they do,” Jensen replied.
“Demi and Bruce Willis are friendly, and they’ve both been married to other people. It happens,” I said with a shrug. It wasn’t until Jensen’s eyes flashed over to mine that I realized what I’d said. The intensity behind his stare made me step back.
“Some people know how to act like grown ups,” he said, his words dropping tiny matches onto the gasoline that ran through my veins.
“Oh, you hang out with grown ups?” I said, tilting my head. His eyes narrowed on mine.
“I think the ceremony is about to start,” Rob said, squeezing my arm to call my attention. I knew what he wanted to say to me before I even looked up at him, so I took a deep breath and nodded as I regrouped myself.
“Let’s get on with it, Reynolds, and because this is the only chance you have of touching me, I suggest you revel in it,” I said, stepping closer to him and grabbing his arm. I tried not to think about the way my arm felt thin against his muscular one. I ignored the way his chuckle sounded and the way it made me feel. I ignored the way being near him made the endorphins in my brain haywire.
We took our place behind Victor and Sophie and waited as the wedding song started to play, which was an acoustic version of “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran. He moved his hand and entwined his fingers with mine, making my eyes widen in shock as I looked up at him.
“You told me to revel in this,” he said, the sound of his voice making my heart beat in overdrive.
“Please don’t,” I whispered.
“What’s the matter? You lost your bravado?” he asked as we walked, smiling for Finley, the photographer I’d appointed the job to.
“I didn’t lose anything,” I said, practically yanking my hand away from him and walking to my assigned spot when we reached the pastor.
It wasn’t until I saw my beautiful best friend walking toward us that thoughts of Jensen vanished. I’d seen Oliver and Estelle together so many times before, but today, as the sun set, and they declared their love for each other, what they had finally hit me. They had what we all wanted, that thing we craved. As we stood there, soft droplets of rain began to fall.
“A sun shower,” Sophie said beside me. “They say it’s good luck.”
“Yeah well, I hope they kiss before that good luck starts ruining our make up,” I whispered back, unable to hold back my smile as I watched the bride and groom kiss. The entire thing was magical, despite the guys and small crowd rising from their seats and telling them to hurry up before the skies opened up above us. I didn’t have to walk back to the hotel with Jensen, because everybody was running by the time they finished kissing.
At the party, as they swayed slowly to their first dance, I drank. And drank some more.
“Rough night?” Rob said as he took the seat beside mine.
I met his concerned blue eyes and smiled. “Beautiful night.”
He gave me a look, his eyes flickering from mine to the flute in my hand.
“It’s time to wine,” I said.
“It’s champagne.”
“Yeah, well, tonight we shall whine over champagne,” I said.
“Yeah, well, you better hope your whining doesn’t turn into puking, because your girl just got married, and I highly doubt she’s going to hold your hair up tonight,” he responded.
“Well, duh, I know that. Why do you think you’re here?”
Rob laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his flute. “To eat.” He smiled when my eyes narrowed. “And shake my ass, of course,” he added, to which I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’ll hold your hair. Actually, it’s pretty short now, so I think it’ll hold itself,” he said, frowning as he looked at my hair.
“We almost look like twins,” I said,
laughing when he poked me in the ribs.
“I’ll have you know that I am much more good looking than you,” he said, standing as the song came to an end and the next one started. He held his hand out to me, and I took it, following him to the dance floor.
I laughed as he swung me exaggeratedly, and squeezed his arms when he dipped me. “You better stop before you end up wearing my champagne,” I said when he pulled me back up.
“Meep, you sure know how to kill a mood,” Rob said with a groan. “I think I’m going to look for another dance partner.”
“Knock yourself out. I have to use the restroom anyway,” I said as we walked off the dance floor.
I heard my mom’s laughter ring out as soon as I stepped outside and followed the sound until I saw who she was talking to, but by then, she’d spotted me and was calling me over.
“Mia, come here! Did you know Jensen lives in New York?” she asked.
“I think I heard that somewhere,” I said, not daring to look at him. Of course I knew he lived in New York. I knew his address by heart, too. Not because I was a stalker, but because I visited with his great aunt and she made me mail him boxes of all kinds of things.
I could have just not sent the things, and she would have never remembered—her Alzheimer’s was worsening by the minute—but my guilty conscience wouldn’t have let me sleep at night, so when she asked, I couldn’t say no. I’d sent everything from boxer briefs to blankets for his daughter. I didn’t know what hurt me more—knowing I would never see the boxers on him or giving something to the little girl that should have been ours, but wasn’t.
“Oh, well, have you two talked about your move?” my mom asked. My eyes snapped to hers. Was she crazy? What was she playing at?
“What move?” Jensen asked, probably more to be cordial than because he actually cared. I looked over at him to make sure I could still read him, but he was looking at my mom, not at me.
“Mia’s moving to New York next week!” my mom said, her smile wide as she looked at me. “She got a great job over there as a photographer—“
“Mom,” I said, stopping her before she carried on. “I’m sure Dad is looking for you, and I doubt Jensen cares about my whereabouts or my career, so you should probably go find Dad, or maybe Hannah needs you for something.”
Leave it to Bettina to wave me off as if I was some pestering child. “Mia, we’re having a conversation here. I’m sure Jensen would love to know what you’re doing in New York. You are in the same line of business and all.”
My mouth popped open.
“Yeah, Mia, I would love to know what you’ll be doing in New York,” Jensen said. I turned to glare at him. I hated him. Absolutely and completely hated him, in his stupid white shirt that covered his perfect frame and the navy blue bow tie and slacks to match. Fuck you, I wanted to say, but didn’t. Fuck you for being so fucking irresistible to me, even now. Go back to your snotty little girl and perfect wife, you asshole. That was what I wanted to say. That would make me happy. I didn’t say it, though, because even I have my boundaries.
“Well, have fun, cool kids. I’m going to go pee, and then go back to the party,” I said instead.
“Mia!” my mom said with a shocked gasp.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said, bringing my hand to cover my mouth as I looked at Jensen, who was clearly trying to hold in his laughter. “I mean the restroom. Ladies don’t pee.”
As I walked away I heard him laugh under my mom’s apology, and when I walked into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror and caught myself smiling. I narrowed my eyes and repeated the mantra I’d been telling myself since Jensen stepped out of my life: He has a family. He doesn’t need you anymore. Besides, he had enough reasons of his own to never want to see me again. I couldn’t believe he was being as cordial as he had been.
I went back to the party, ate, and drank with no further interruptions other than Estelle, when she sat beside me for all of two seconds to rest her tired feet.
“So, New York.” I was standing by the bar, getting myself another drink, when I heard the question behind me. I turned around and met his grey eyes.
“New York,” I replied, swallowing, hoping to wash out the sudden pain in my chest.
“You wouldn’t have told me at all?” he asked, tilting his head, his eyes unreadable. “You would have moved over there, maybe lived right beside me, probably worked with colleagues of mine, and not have told me at all?”
My heart thundered inside its cage, like an animal trying to get out. Eventually, when Jensen and I were together, that feeling of butterflies every time I saw him went away. After seeing him every day, kissing him every day, waking up in his arms, the excitement of newlywed bliss faded. I didn’t love him any less, didn’t want him any less, but this feeling I feel right now? The one where I feel like my heart is literally in his fist? I had stopped feeling it, and I wasn’t sure I liked it being back.
“I . . . I’m sure you would have found out. I mean, I’m sure Patty would have told you,” I said, turning back around to face the bartender when he said my drink was ready.
“Patty,” Jensen said, moving closer to me, the heat from his body rolling through mine. When I felt his breath over my neck, I closed my eyes and pictured his breath over my bare breasts, teasing me the way he used to, and then over my stomach, and lower . . .
I stopped, opening my eyes once more. I got a funny look from the bartender and pushed off of the bar, colliding with Jensen’s hard chest.
“Sorry,” I said, turning around and taking a step back to give myself space from him, away from his air, even though I still craved it. “I honestly, I mean, we don’t talk Jensen.” I stopped talking and craned my head to look up at him. “So no, I didn’t have any intention of sending out a carrier pigeon or anything.”
His eyebrows spiked up. His lips twitched in amusement, and I fought the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine. His face darkened suddenly, and I was sure he could read my thoughts. I cleared my throat and took a sip of the screwdriver in my hand.
“Don’t write that in one of your stories,” I said, and held my breath as soon as the words left my mouth.
“You read my stories?” he asked, his voice low as he took a step forward. We were being quiet, off in a dark corner where the bar was located, but I felt every pair of eyes staring at us in that moment. I felt like we were screaming over the electric dance song that people were happily participating in. I took a step back.
“No,” I said. “But once a writer, always a writer, right?” I said lamely. My statement made him grin—that stupid, wolfish grin of his that made me cave to him to begin with. I’d convinced myself that I hated that grin, until this moment, when I saw it in front of me and not in one of my twisted fantasies, in which reality never kicked in.
“Did you ever—m” he started to ask when my brother interrupted.
“Meep, I have to head out. Are you coming or do you need a ride?” Rob asked, his eyes not leaving mine.
“Is everybody leaving? Where’s Elle?” I asked.
“They’re about to leave,” Rob said. “But Bean said they were just going to slip out, no big charade with bubbles or rice or whatever.”
“Well, technically we can’t do the rice thing. It wasn’t permitted in the last wedding I shot,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that only applies in Catholic churches,” Jensen said.
My eyes snapped to his, and suddenly all of the anger I thought had washed away came crawling back. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” I said, pulling Rob’s arm and stepping away.
“It was good to see you, man,” Rob said over his shoulder.
“Yeah, it was great,” I muttered under my breath, earning a laugh from Rob and a jaw twitch from Jensen.
“You seemed like you were actually getting along,” he said once we were out of earshot.
“Yeah, smoke and mirrors and all that jazz,” I replied, waving my hand.
“I take it
Mom told him about the move.”
“She sure did,” I said with a sigh as we reached the front of the hotel, where Oliver and Estelle stood, talking, their arms wrapped around each other. “They have to be the most beautiful couple in the universe,” I commented. Rob nodded in agreement.
“That’s what love looks like,” he said.
“It is, isn’t it?” I said, smiling. I smiled brighter when Estelle’s happy eyes caught my gaze and she squealed, walking toward us with Oliver in tow.
“Thank you so much for everything,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me away from Rob. She backed away to hold me at arms’ length, her eyes searching my face as if she was cataloging it. I knew I was going to cry before I felt the tears pricking my eyes. They were leaving on their honeymoon to Italy tonight, and I was leaving for New York in a couple of days. This was our last day together, and I swear if it weren’t her wedding I would beg Oliver to let me be a third wheel tonight.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I managed to choke out as I threw my arms around her again. “I’m so fucking happy for you, Elle. After everything you’ve been through these past years, you married Prince Charming.”
“I love you so much bee-eff . . . so, so much,” she said, crying with me.
“Stop being so melodramatic,” Rob said, making us laugh. “You act like you’re not going to take the next flight to New York when you’re back from your honeymoon.”
Estelle laughed, and Oliver joined in quickly. “I totally am,” she said, backing away and wiping her tears away.
“You better,” I said, also wiping my tears. “You can come, too, Bean,” I added, looking at Oliver, who chuckled, shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said. “You’re going to kick ass, Meep.”
“I know,” I said, making the three of them laugh.
Torn Hearts (Hearts #1.5) Page 4