by Nikki Sloane
“I’m fine,” I said, “and we don’t have time to hang out on the floor of your shower.”
Appealing to his practical side worked, although he looked uneasy about it. I let him help me up and pretended not to notice how intently he studied me.
“Shit,” I grumbled. “Is that the only shampoo you have? I don’t want to smell like a guy.”
He barely said anything else to me during the shower, except to tell me to finish drinking all of the water in the water bottle. He had to get out of the shower a second time to dig under his sink for a half-empty container of hotel shampoo.
I tried to get him past what had happened, a simple mistake. But he couldn’t let it go.
I hurried getting dressed, trying to recover lost time from my fainting in the shower. I didn’t want him to dwell on it more than I suspected he already was, or for him to have to come up with some excuse for why he was late.
I could hear it now. “Sorry I’m late, Nick, on your special day, but I was busy fucking my girlfriend in the shower so hard I made her pass out.” I’m sure that would go over well.
He was dressed in jeans and a simple black V-neck shirt, sitting on the bed, his phone in hand, although he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was still sulking, and I wasn’t having it.
“I want to talk about the shower,” I said, sitting beside him on my knees on the bed.
“Which part? When I suffocated you, or when I gave you heatstroke?” His voice was filled with self-loathing.
“I want to talk about the man in there.”
“It won’t happen again.” It was hushed. Ashamed.
“Why not?” I put my hand on top of his on the bed. “Couldn’t you tell I loved it?”
He looked gorgeous, even when he was visibly confused and conflicted. “Evie.”
“I’m not saying I want it like that every time, but I love never knowing how you’re going to come at me,” I said. “You’re kind of an adventure, boss.”
He came up off of the bed and put his hands on my waist, drawing me to him and kissing me chastely on my forehead. “Are you ready to go?”
“As soon as you go back to treating me like you were before, asshole,” I said with a wide smile I hoped reached all the way to my eyes.
He took a breath. “All right.” His face softened and turned playful. “I want to take off your clothes and taste that pussy.”
My mouth fell open. “Do we have time?” I asked, hopeful.
“No, I’ll take a raincheck though.”
Having a steering wheel under my hands was foreign. It had been ages since I’d driven. Because I was nervous about traffic, and driving Logan’s car, and the whole meeting-his-entire-family thing, I left with plenty of time. For once in my life, I wasn’t late. I parked behind the church with an enormous white steeple and did a final check of my makeup. I hadn’t seen Logan since I dropped him at his brother’s hotel room this morning.
There were friendly smiles when I joined people heading into the church, but no faces I recognized until I spotted him. He was huddled up with the other groomsmen by the interior doors. Holy mother of god, he looked amazing. A black tux with a simple black bow tie, James Bond style. He must have sensed my arrival because his head turned toward me.
Logan’s gaze started at my rhinestone strapped sandals and worked its way up, lingering on the royal blue, one-shoulder dress that matched my eyes. He spent an indecent amount of time staring at my chest. He liked what he saw. I understood. It took an iron grip on my self-control to keep my indecent thoughts from seeping onto my face, or out of my mouth, as he approached me.
“You look amazing.” He kissed my cheek.
“I believe that’s my line.”
“Come on, I’ve got a seat for you beside Chelsea.”
Chelsea. That was the friendly cousin’s name I had chatted with during the rehearsal. I slipped my arm into Logan’s, and just as we crossed through the interior, Garrett passed me a ceremony program. It was beautifully understated in design, and Logan to a tee.
“Don’t critique me too hard,” he said. “Hilary was rather specific.”
“No promises.”
As stated, Chelsea had an open spot beside her that I slid into, giving her a smile. She looked nervous, rereading the weathered piece of paper in her hand that had notes written in the margin. I admired the program while the string quartet began the processional.
Sometimes weddings seem to last a lifetime, and others seem impossibly short, and this one fell into the latter category. Hilary looked stunning in her antique lace dress. Her wild mane of hair had been styled back into a soft up-do with a cathedral veil pinned beneath. And while Nick was a handsome groom, my eyes were glued to the man on his left.
Despite her notes, Chelsea zipped through the reading in less than a minute. It was a big wedding, and I could understand why she’d been nervous. The kiss at the end was just like Nick and Hilary – adorable. He kissed her much too quickly, so she went back for seconds, drawing chuckles from the guests. Logan found me after the recessional, introducing me to some aunts and uncles, and nice people I had absolutely no hope of remembering.
“We’ve got pictures now,” he said. “I’ll come find you as soon as I can when we’re done.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got Chelsea to latch onto,” I joked. Although, not really.
I waited until the parking lot drained of cars and then drove the ten minutes to the country club. Cocktail hour had already begun in the garden behind the ballroom. Servers with silver trays offered various hors d’oeuvres, and a line had formed at the open bar. Chelsea spotted me and waved me over.
More family to meet, and the questions began now. How did you two meet? How long have you been together? And my personal favorite, How do you feel about kids? Yikes. I had to remind myself of the lie since it had been an actual week. Even with the lie, two months dating seemed a bit soon to be prying into that.
I worked my way through the line beside Chelsea to get a rum and Diet Coke.
“It was a disaster,” she said about her reading. “Did you understand a single word?”
“You enunciated really well.”
“Aw, you’re sweet, but you’re not a convincing liar.” Chelsea laughed and swirled her drink.
We stood off to one side of the garden where the perfume from the rose bushes clung heavy in the air. It was a beautiful day, although hot. Logan must be sweating up a storm in that tux, which of course made me think about when he’d appeared shirtless and drenched in sweat this morning.
“What the hell?” Chelsea muttered under her breath. She turned to me, panic streaking her face. “Um, maybe you should—”
A woman approached us, staying on the path so she wouldn’t sink into the soft grass, her slender legs extending above stiletto-clad feet. She was oblivious to the effects of the sun, not a perfectly-styled hair out of place. It was like looking in the mirror, only one that reflected back the complete opposite of what I was. For instance, I was an inch shorter than average with thick thighs, whereas she was tall and rail-thin. Blonde, with a model pouty face that men seem to find so appealing. She looked like she was maybe thirty. Picture-perfect.
She gave Chelsea a smile, but it was cold and unfeeling.
“Wow, it’s been a while.” I’d known Chelsea all of three hours, and I could tell this was strained.
“Yeah,” the blonde said. I don’t think she was capable of sweating. Like it was beneath her. “How have you been?”
“Good. And yourself?”
The blonde’s flat smile continued. “I’ve been great.”
“Good for you. I’m a little surprised to see you here.” Chelsea’s voice was uneven. “And I can think of some other people who might be surprised, too.”
The blonde gave a tinny laugh. “Susan invited my parents, but my dad’s sick. Nick’s practically family to me, so, here I am.” Her dusty green eyes turned to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met, you must be from Hilary’s side.”
She held a manicured hand out to me for a handshake, which I took. Her cold hand was soft like silk. How the hell was she cold in this heat?
“Actually,” I answered, “I’m Logan’s girlfriend. Evelyn Russell.”
The hand froze, tightened on mine while her gaze flew to Chelsea as if demanding confirmation. All Chelsea did was take a long sip of her drink, and the blonde’s eyes returned to me, narrow and assessing. She let out a strange noise, a bitter laugh like she’d just heard the most ridiculous thing in her life.
“Nice to meet you.” It sounded like pure bullshit. “I’m April Kelley.” Those words came out weighted. It was revealed as a seemingly recognizable name, although I hadn’t a clue.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said, giving her a blank look that wiped the smile from her face.
“How long have you and Logan been seeing each other?”
“A couple of months.”
April had a bizarre expression. “I hadn’t heard he’d started dating again.” Her voice fell down an octave. “But it’s not like we talk these days.”
Every cell in my brain screamed that she was one of Logan’s ex-girlfriends. It wasn’t surprising, her cold and distant personality was similar to his at times, although I think she was at level: expert. She was stunningly beautiful. They must have made a gorgeous couple.
Chelsea’s reaction told me I had to tread lightly. The break-up between them hadn’t gone well. I wondered immediately who had ended it. In my experience, you can come out just as wounded when you’re the one who breaks it off, so it was too hard to know from her thinly-veiled contempt if it was his doing.
“Well,” Chelsea said, “I’m glad to hear you’re doing good, April. We should probably go mingle with my family. Some of them came up from Florida, and I don’t get to see them often.” Chelsea gestured back toward the swarm of people by the bar. “Evelyn?”
“Okay,” April said. She smiled like the Cheshire cat, as if aware she’d sent Chelsea running. “Nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” I responded, hurrying to keep up with Chelsea.
I waited until we were well out of earshot, but Chelsea beat me to it. “I’m so sorry about that,” she said. “That had to be really awkward.”
“Yeah, probably, except I still don’t know who she is. She’s one of Logan’s exes?”
Chelsea’s mouth dropped open. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No, tell me what?”
“She’s not one of his exes, she’s his only ex. They were together for twelve years.”
chapter
FOURTEEN
Twelve freaking years. That’s not a relationship, that’s a marriage. He spent twelve years with that calculating woman. Was that why he was the way he was? Had she trained him to be such a tidy, neat freak?
Oh, god.
Was that why he was obsessed with controlling me in the bedroom?
I finished my drink and snatched a bottle of water off one of the trays of a server who passed by. It solved the problem of my cottonmouth.
“No,” I said. “He’s never mentioned her.”
“I cannot believe she came, she’s got some balls on her. Logan never told us what happened between them. But whatever it was, it was bad because suddenly April’s name was like Voldemort’s – she who shall not be named.”
“When was this?”
“I dunno, a while. Maybe three years ago.”
Things came into focus. If I’d invested twelve years in another person, only to have it fall apart, I’d be hesitant to get back into a relationship too.
“He’s not going to like that she’s here,” Chelsea added.
“Well, what’s a wedding without a little drama?” I responded in a humorless joke.
A text message came from him a few minutes later, telling me pictures had run long, but they were in the limo and on their way. I was composing a response to warn him about April, when an elderly couple approached. Logan’s cute grandparents wanted to meet his new girlfriend. Knowing what I did now, his earlier comments made more sense. Was I really only his second girlfriend? I pocketed my phone out of courtesy and beamed a smile to them.
Was his family as confused as I was about Logan choosing me as a girlfriend? I don’t think April and I could be more different if I tried. Two minutes into the conversation, I felt a warm hand on my hip and Logan appeared on the other side.
“Hi,” he said. “Evie, do you mind?” He pointed at the water bottle in my hand. I passed it to him and watched him finish it. He chatted with his grandparents for another minute, and then the staff was asking for the wedding party to line up for announcements.
“I’ll see you inside,” he said, giving me a squeeze and following the rest of the bridal party toward the entrance.
I wanted to tell him, but really, what good would that do right now? I followed the herd of people moving into the elaborate banquet room, picking up my seating card. Thank god Nick and Hilary had opted for a sweetheart table so I could sit beside Logan.
The bridal party’s announcement was thankfully short and our table filled, first with his mother and stepfather, then Garrett, and finally Logan. The maid-of-honor didn’t sit, she went straight to the microphone and began her toast, which meant Logan would be up right after.
“Are you nervous?” I asked him. I had forgotten about this duty, and hadn’t seen him practice. He didn’t reach into his jacket to pull out notes.
“I’m fine,” he whispered back, cool as a cucumber.
The maid-of-honor gave a toast that was more of a roast of her sister, throwing out comments about how thrilled their parents were to have Hilary off the payroll. Hilary was a good sport about it, and Nick seemed to think it was hilarious. The sister ended it on a sweet note, and we were clinking glasses. Logan kept hold of his champagne and stood, moving to take the offered microphone from her.
“Some of you might not know the real story on how Hilary and Nick met, and if you two don’t mind, I’d like to share it now.”
Nick and Hilary exchanged a nervous smile with each other.
“The story that they tell is while they were in college, Hilary and her friend Katie were walking home from the library late at night, and discovered Nick. He’d lost his wallet outside just a few minutes before, and asked them to help him look. While doing this, Hilary stepped off the curb and twisted her ankle, and Nick had to carry her back to the dorm. They didn’t find his wallet, but they found each other instead.”
A smile twisted on his lips, and I took a deep breath. Seeing him stand up there, all eyes on him yet so comfortable, was intoxicating.
“It’s a nice story, but they leave out some critical details.” His smile grew into a grin, while the nervous one on Nick’s lips started to fade. “Nick didn’t lose his wallet. He’d seen Katie and Hilary getting ready to leave and devised the ‘lost wallet’ story because he wanted to get her number. Not Hilary’s, but Katie’s.”
You could hear all of the heads turn to face Hilary, to see if this was a revelation. Her smile said it wasn’t.
“Hilary wasn’t about to let that happen. She’d had her eye on my brother from the moment he got to the library, and so she made a story of her own, a not-really-twisted ankle. That allowed her to hang on my brother for the next twenty minutes, and I think after the first ten he was in love with her.”
Adorable.
“So, I want to toast to the new Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Stone. To finding each other,” he said. Then, his eyes zeroed in on mine, as if speaking directly to me. “To doing whatever you have to, to get what you want.”
It was like he’d just poured lava on me.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” His eyes turned playful. “They were both fall-down drunk. The Library is the name of a bar on campus.”
I think people chuckled. Maybe Hilary scoffed at this being revealed. All I could think about was the meaning in his words. Susan leaned over and clinked her glass of champagne against mine when I held it up.
>
Logan didn’t sit down. He pulled the glass from my hand and set both of ours on the table, took my hand, and tugged me from my seat. I followed him out the door, down a long hallway.
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer because I didn’t think he knew. We wandered through an empty bar and then into a darkened office that looked like it wasn’t in use. He shut the door and pressed my back against it, his face an inch from mine.
“I’m over your rule.” Before I could respond, he set his mouth on mine.
Yes. Oh my god, yes. His kiss was filled with so much longing I gasped against it. His soft lips teased, his tongue slipped into my mouth to stroke mine, and it eased a moan from me. Then, he began to use his hands. One slipped behind my neck to hold me into his kiss while the other closed on my waist so the rest of our bodies could touch.
“Logan,” I tried to get out more between kisses, but the week spent without had made us both hungry to make up for lost time.
“Hmm?” he mumbled. Lips returned to mine, greedy and insistent. Demanding my participation, which I was all too ready to give. My hands clung to him. I wanted to sink inside his skin, to rip his jacket off. To ball my fists in his dress shirt, wrinkle it, and pull it up so I could slide my hands beneath.
He wouldn’t like wrinkles in his shirt. That was the thought that made me go cold. “I have to tell you something,” I said. “April Kelley is here.”
“What?” He’d heard me because he’d gone rigid. “How?”
“She came with her mother.”
He straightened, stepping away, and the desire inside me complained when the heat of his body was gone. His face hardened and soured, layer by layer.
“Did you two talk?” His voice was cold.
“Not really, Chelsea pulled me away.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “What did she say?”
I gave him a rundown of the brief encounter and repeated what Chelsea had told me. “Twelve years?” I asked. “You started dating when you were—”
“Fifteen.”
They’d been kids. “Can I ask what happened?”
“We weren’t right for each other.”