Vindication is oh so sweet. Yes!
I smile to myself. Hunter Payne might be older and more experienced—but he has no clue who he’s dealing with.
Ha. And neither do I apparently. Since when did I grow a set of balls?
When I make it to Dhelia and Peyton, they’re already lost in the thumping music. I’m not sure who the band is, but they’re better than I would have expected. Always a nice surprise.
As we dance to Lady Gaga’s Born This Way, I feel the heat from someone dancing just a tad too close. But who cares. I’m so into the music I don’t even turn around to see who it is. Instead, I decide given the pleased look on my sister’s face, he must be either attractive, or someone she knows.
Perhaps I can give Hunter a little show. That just might be fun. He likes games, so we’ll just see how he likes this one.
I lean back into the rhythmic stranger, trying to get our timing in sync. Then I throw a few booty-bounces into the mix for good measure. Perfect chance to test my twerking skills.
Not bad!
As my new dance partner puts his hands on my hips to pull me closer, I find myself curious as to whether or not Hunter’s watching. I scan the crowd. But to my disappointment, he’s nowhere in sight.
Instead of making him jealous, I only succeed in bringing out my own little green-eyed-monster. Where the hell did he go?
Nice job, Chloe. Brilliant. You probably pissed him off and sent him straight into another girl’s arms. Fabulous.
As if someone flips a switch inside me, I become uncomfortable at the close proximity with this mystery man dancing nearly on top of me.
Dhelia’s brows draw together as she watches me.
I stop dead in my tracks, flinging the stranger’s hands away from my body. Instantly regretting my terse reaction, I turn to apologize for toying with him, only to feel like the biggest ass on the planet.
Hunter?
Oh, thank god! He didn’t take off with someone else.
His gaze turns cloudy. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong…again?”
How do I answer that? There’s no way I can tell him the truth. I need to come up with something fast. Shit! “Uh, no. My tummy’s not feeling so well.” Yeah, that’ll work. He’ll never know I didn’t realize I was dancing with him.
“Would you like to sit down for a bit to catch your breath?”
“No, I’m fine. I just need some water.” I hold my hand over my alleged queasy stomach.
He pulls a bottle of Poland Spring from his back pocket. “Here you go.”
I’m such a fraud. “Thanks.” I take a big drink, realizing just how thirsty I actually am.
Then it hits me. I watch him, suspicion forcing my eyes to squint. “I thought you didn’t dance?”
“No, I said I don’t dance much. You guys looked like you were having so much fun, so I decided to live a little. Besides, with the sweaty Guido’s skulking around, I knew you’d eventually get into that trouble you claim to be looking for.”
So he did hear my comment before I left the table. “Well, I’m impressed. You kept up quite nicely. And for the record, I don’t need a baby sitter.”
A smile crosses his perfect lips. “No, you kept up quite nicely. And I don’t know about the babysitter part.” His grin curls up like a twelve-year-old boy with a bad idea.
As if right on cue, Caleb and Dru walk up to join our group.
Oh, crap. I didn’t realize a slow song had come on.
Hunter grabs my arm, tugging me against his rock-hard-chest. His strong arms wrap around my waist at the exact second my hands encircle his neck. With our bodies plastered up against each other, it’s impossible to hide the shaking in my legs—or the insane ratcheting of my heart.
Each time I look into his molten-lava eyes, I fear I might melt right there in front of the entire crowd. Every few seconds, his arms wind around me tighter—convincing me just how unbearable it is to feel him against me.
Being this close to Hunter is pleasure—and pain—all wrapped up into one giant ball of confusion. My body’s experiencing things it never has, things I’m not sure it’s ready for just yet. He renders me powerless in every sense of the word. The one thing that scares me more than anything else does. Well, other than magic.
I’ve never imagined feeling vulnerable to a guy. But in this moment—on this night—I feel more helpless than I ever thought possible.
The heady, sweet scent of his skin is like an intoxicating drug. All I can do is inhale until my lungs are ready to explode.
I wrap the hair on the back of his head around my index fingers, as the goose bumps on his neck tease my palms.
We continue turning in circles in the center of the dance floor. I look up into his smoldering eyes, in the hopes of seeing some sign we’re on the same page. The instant I begin gazing, the strongest feeling of déjà vu washes over me.
I contemplate the familiarity of this moment, unable to maintain concentration as he leans down to rest his face on my cheek. His right hand slides up my back and under my hair, to find its resting place on the nape of my neck. His touch sparks electricity inside of me. I must be dreaming.
Why does this guy I barely know have to be so damn perfect? I don’t recall ever being held like this—not even when a guy has claimed to love me. Hunter acts like we’ve known each other forever. But we haven’t. In fact, we’re more or less strangers.
I don’t know if I should run away as fast as my feet will carry me, or take everything in until there’s nothing left. I never imagined a single person could affect me to the core this way. Part of me wants to cry. But the other part of me wants to freeze this moment in time—because I know it will eventually end anyway.
It has to.
He’d hate me if he found out who I really am. ‘What’ I really am.
I can’t get close enough to take that chance.
My eyes begin to fill. As I take a few deep, calming breaths, he pulls his head back to stare at my face. The pained expression in his eyes touches me.
Does he sense my hesitation?
But before I can debate it any further, he gently places his cool, moist lips upon mine.
Time stands still.
He leans his head back, as a single tear descends my cheek. But instead of looking surprised or upset, he simply wipes the drop away with his thumb. Gazing into my tear-filled eyes, he leans in again to take my mouth in a more forceful kiss. His soft lips massaging mine until we find a perfect, consuming rhythm.
My heart catches in my throat.
Numbness takes over my body—like I’m floating on a cloud. Is this what it means to melt? I’ve never felt anything like this. Not even close.
A first kiss like this only exists in fairytales.
And that’s all it can ever be.
My fairytale.
His kiss becomes more demanding. Hunter’s mouth opens wider, allowing his tongue to explore in search of mine. His right hand caresses my cheek, while his left tangles in a handful of hair at the back of my neck.
Holding me in this passionate moment, his heart pounds even harder than my own. We’re both lost in this all-consuming kiss—neither one of us able to come up for air.
I can’t breathe.
I need to stop for a second, but I don’t want him to move away. I never want this to end.
I savor the last few seconds before hesitation compels me to pull away. My lungs burn, forcing me to catch my breath. Even though I move my head away, Hunter doesn’t release his hold on me—as if I’m a bird about to take flight.
My lungs fight to replenish the air that’s been lost as I become aware of the danger Hunter represents. Yes, horrifying danger. The kind that could so easily destroy me.
Without warning, he’s able to make me forget my own name.
Without warning, he manages to make me lose sight of the life I thought I had laid out for myself.
Without warning, he opens the locked door to my heart and throws away the key.
> As thoughts spin through my mind, something my mother said comes back to me. “…the incurable emptiness your other half left behind. It’s why you’ve always felt so alone…why you’ve been so desperate to feel complete.”
Wait a minute. Could that be why I’ve dated guys I never really cared about?
I knew I’d never get close enough for them to hurt me—but I also didn’t have to be alone. They filled the void in my heart left by my mother and the twin sister I never knew.
Is that what she meant?
Oh my god!
But it’s not like that with Hunter. Deep down, I knew it the first second we met. What am I doing?
I have no clue how to make room for him in my life, but I also don’t know how to live another day without the addictive euphoria of Hunter Payne.
Unable to tread this mind-crushing-current, I begin drowning in the sea of my own doubt. The deeper it becomes, the more uncertain I am I’ll survive the emotional waves crashing down upon me.
The strong, sheltering arms holding me, now feel like a steel cage—trapping me in like a helpless animal. I need to get away. I need to think without his seductive influence incapacitating my subconscious.
I squirm, pulling away from his embrace.
His eyes scrunch. The confusion on his face makes it’s clear he has no idea what’s brought on this sudden change in temperature—but I can’t stand here to explain it. I can’t. I have to get away from him.
I look up into his lost eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.” Then I turn, fleeing towards the water as fast as my bare feet can take me.
The salty air numbs my mind, the wind throwing my hair across my back.
Once clear of all the people, I look back to see if he’s following me. My heart hopes he is—while my guilty conscience hopes he isn’t.
But I’m running all alone.
I’m sure I hurt him by taking off—but I didn’t know what else to do. I’ll hate myself in the morning. Of that, I’m certain.
I walk to the edge of the water, desperate for the chill to snap me out of this insanity.
For twenty-five minutes, I walk to clear my head. But all I can do is question myself. Why do I run away when things get tough? Is it ever going to change?
I’m an emotional mess. Even more so than I realized. I know I can’t drag Hunter down with me. He deserves so much better—in more ways than one. Now, I just have to find the strength to tell him. He deserves the truth. That kiss proves we’re more than just friends and it can only lead to heartache for us both.
It needs to stop now.
I walk back up to the party, but apparently, I was gone longer than I thought. Almost everyone is gone. When did it get so late?
As I reach the house, Dru and Dhelia are gathering their things. “Caleb and Peyton didn’t leave, did they?” Oh god, I sure hope not.
Dru’s face drips with disdain as he glares at me. “They went to the bathroom before we hit the road.”
“Good idea. I should probably go myself.”
“Well, you’d better hurry up. We’re just about ready to leave.” Dhelia seems more like her usual snotty self. Somehow, I should have known the truce wouldn’t last longer than a few hours.
I scan the area for Hunter, but he’s nowhere to insight. “Have you guys seen Hunter? We really need to talk.”
“Yeah well, you should have thought about that before you took off and left him standing on the dance floor like a tool.” Dru shakes his head. “He went home, Chloe. What did you expect?”
What? “He was that pissed?” I’m so stupid. Why did I freak out?
“Wouldn’t you be? Hot and heavy one minute, then you ditch him for no reason the next. When will you realize you can’t run away from everything?” Dhelia’s shouts.
I messed up big time.
There are no words.
My stomach flip-flops at the thought of him leaving angry. If only I could turn back time to erase what I’ve done.
The only thing I want now—is for the most amazing night I’ve ever had—to end.
Chapter 10
Apologies
My eyes pop open, remembering the disaster I made of last night. I wish more than anything I could fall into a bottomless hole and never come out.
If I had Hunter’s number, I’d at least call him to explain why I acted like such an ass. But of course, I have no way to contact him.
How have we never exchanged numbers?
Maybe I should have gone to the hospital today. No, that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. I could certainly handle giving an apology over the phone, but seeing Hunter in person might prove to be the impossible. Besides, there’s no way he’ll forgive me anyway. And I can’t say I blame him. I can’t imagine how embarrassed he must have been.
I roll over face-first into my down pillow, fighting back the tears threatening to escape. What have I done?
Family is obligated to stick around when they’re angry at the stupid things you do. Strangers, on the other hand, can simply forget you ever existed.
Did I chase away my only friend in New York? I’m such an idiot!
I have to be the only girl in the world who would ever walk away from a guy like Hunter. What’s wrong with me?
I kick my legs on top of the bed, muting the sound of my pathetic screams into the goose-down buffer. I must have been a heinous person in my past life—and karma has tracked me down for payment.
Well my account is just about tapped-out, so it can give up anytime.
Why must I always make the wrong choices?
Perhaps the next time I’m at the hospital I should schedule a psych evaluation. Might be the only way to ever find answers for the things I do.
Wait, what am I doing? Enough! Enough of this feeling sorry for myself crap.
If I could hide in my room forever—I would. But life still goes on, even after the bad choices we make.
I force myself into the shower, and thankfully, the hot water eases my throbbing head.
I take my time putting on my make-up—even more time dragging the brush through my tangled, dripping hair.
Like a robot, I walk downstairs expecting to hear some sort of chatter coming from the kitchen or the living room.
But there’s nothing.
Complete silence fills air.
I snag a bottle of Poland Spring from the fridge and make my way to the island, only to find a note with my name on it, laying smack dab in between the salt and peppershakers.
Good morning, Dear.
Since you decided not to join us this morning, we figured you could use the sleep. There’s plenty of food in the fridge if you’re hungry—so help yourself.
We should be back around lunchtime.
P.S. And stop beating yourself up. Everything will
be okay.
Love you,
Gram
My heart sinks.
They’ve already told Gram everything. That’s just great.
But I guess I should be thankful to have an empty house for another hour or so. Maybe I’ll go sit in the sun for a while. My pale skin could use a golden boost.
With laptop bag in tow, I grab the oversized bottle of Banana Boat and a beach towel from the pantry, then head towards the back yard.
Situated on a lawn chair, I lean my head back, allowing the sauna-like rays to hit my face as I think of time spent with Aunt Morgan on her patio in San Diego. It won’t be easy getting used to the change in seasons again. I dread the idea of Long Island winters—and driving on icy roads for the first time.
But as I relax my mind to take a stroll down memory lane, a vision sneaks up from behind and slaps me.
Aunt Morgan’s leaning against Gram’s kitchen sink, tears streaming down her face.
Michael stands in front of her, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. His lips are moving, but it’s as if someone has turned the volume down.
Ash and Aidan are off to the side where Michael can’t see them. Watching. Waiting.
Anger spreads across their red faces, but they remain silent.
They just stand there, frozen like two concrete pillars.
I still can’t hear what Michael’s saying as tears begin rolling down his sullen face.
Seconds later, he storms out the back door.
The boys rush to their distraught mother’s side, holding her in their shaking arms as they sob together.
My eyes fly open, the blazing sun greets me with hostility.
Holy crap!
This must mean Michael finds out about the boys. I just wish I could have heard what they were saying so I’d know why Aunt Morgan was crying. It had to be about more than Michael learning the truth. I mean, why would that make her cry?
If Michael weren’t the enemy, his weeping would break my heart. I hate to see men cry. But finding out after twenty-one years he’s a father will be unbearable. Especially when he believed they were never born.
I can’t even imagine what the news will do to him.
Ash and Aidan should be here in a few days, so I’m sure the events in my vision will come to pass later this week. I don’t think Aunt Morgan plans to waste any time in letting the truth come out.
It’s pointless anyway. One glimpse of their faces and the Russo’s will know the truth. How could they not?
But I wonder if Aunt Morgan has any idea how she plans to share the news?
The Russo’s will flip when they find out!
I squeeze lotion down my legs, thinking of days spent under the judgmental, spying eyes of Michael’s father, Peter Russo. That grumpy man never allowed us to step foot in their yard when their nieces and nephews were in town, no matter how much the kids pleaded. Peter had so much hostility at the mere sight of us. I remember him shaking his fist and yelling when we stepped foot in the driveway to play. Maybe he thought the Russo children would catch Witch fever if they got too close. Idiot!
If he’d ever found out we’d bonded with some of his nieces, he’d have hit the roof. We used to figure out ways to sneak them out to the park, or to a nearby stream where we’d play on an old tire swing and jump in the water. He’d have had a coronary if he ever found out.
Tethered (A BirthRight Novel) Page 12