Hitched (Hearts of Stone Book 2)
Page 6
“Just because I enjoyed hanging out with you, it doesn’t mean I wanted to marry you,” I told him.
“You wanted to do a lot of things with me. Don’t you remember helping me go through an entire box of condoms?” The look he gave me was all fire and heat.
I rolled my eyes at that. That was something I remembered clearly, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Or that the look he was currently giving me was igniting a ball of desire in me that was getting too strong to ignore. The fact that he was throwing all of my bad decisions in my face and simultaneously turning me on was starting to really piss me off. I didn’t like that I started to feel so out of control around him.
When I didn’t answer, he asked, “Do you remember that you asked me to marry you so you wouldn’t have to go back to your room when the sun came up?”
“I did no such thing,” I snapped. I might have done a lot of things that night, but I never...”
He stepped closer, and I had to look up to meet his gaze. I refused to back down.
“You most certainly did. Don’t you remember going to get our marriage license as soon as the office opened at 8 a.m. the next morning?”
I shook my head slowly even though as he said it, it seemed hazily familiar. Picking through the jumbled drunken memories to try to piece things together was like walking uphill in waist-deep mud.
“We were the first ones in line, and then we got married in a ceremony that you insisted on paying for.” He uncrossed his arms so that he could tap the end of my nose with his finger.
Fucking patronizing asshole. I had the urge to bite his finger off. He tilted his head as if expecting me to answer and I narrowed my eyes at him. I surely didn’t remember insisting on paying for a wedding. Even drunk, I would have known I couldn’t have afforded it.
“You do remember the wedding, right? Surely you’ve at least seen the bill for that. I still have all of the pictures you left in my room.”
I might not remember whose idea it was to get married, but I’d seen the bill. And that reminder didn’t feel any better now than when I discovered the purchase receipt in my purse the next day. The thought I’d had then was that fake weddings were ridiculously expensive. I didn’t know what to think now.
“Whether you want to admit it or not, Harlow, this is real.” Trace held up his hand again, the silver of his ring glinting in the light at me. “You can’t run from this forever.”
I was pretty sure I was going to puke. I stumbled back toward my chair, desperate to sit down. I knew what I’d done was bad. Having sex with a stranger wasn’t safe and spending over $1,000 while drunk was stupid. I knew that my father would shit a brick if he found out about either of those things, but I never actually believed that Vegas weddings were legal. Really. How could two complete strangers who had known each other for less than a day get married?
Marlow always said I was naive.
“Are you okay?” Trace’s voice lost its accusing tone, and he grabbed my elbow and helped me sit down in the chair.
“It’s real?” I stammered as my forehead fell into my palms.
“Yeah.” He sat down next to me, rubbing my back with his hand. I wanted to hate myself for enjoying his touch, but apparently my body was a fucking idiot, which, coincidentally, was what had gotten me into this ridiculous situation in the first place.
Stupid body that was attracted to stupid, sexy, charming boys.
“Why would we do something so foolish?” I asked.
“I guess it made sense at the time.” His lips lifted up into a smile on one side, and he looked so sweet. I could almost understand why drunk Harlow had been such a moron. Sober Harlow could feel the irresistible pull to him, too.
Both Harlows were clearly idiots.
I glared at him. I might have gotten myself into this mess, but it could be undone. It had to be. “Made sense? We were drunk! They should never have let us do that.”
Trace shrugged. “We’re adults. It’s none of their business.”
“Well,” I said, sitting up straighter and gathering my confidence. “We’ll just get it annulled.”
“We could,” Trace agreed, “but what’s the rush? We had a great time in Vegas, so maybe we just hang out and see how things go.”
“Are you kidding me?” I hissed. “I don’t care how good-looking you are or how talented you are in the sack, we can’t stay married.”
A cocky smile spread across his face. “Ah. So you do like my dick. I knew it.”
I rubbed my temple, angry at myself for feeding his ego. “Of course, that’s what you would hear. You’re missing my point, Trace. I don’t even know you.”
“That’s why I invited you to lunch, to get to know you. And I knew you thought I was good-looking,” he added triumphantly.
I groaned in frustration, clutching my fists. “You don’t understand. My father will kill me if he finds out I married a stranger in Vegas!” I slammed my palms against the desktop to make my point.
He pushed away from the desk to stand up. “Settle down, Harlow. It’s not like you’re peddling drugs. It’s marriage.”
I didn’t like the way he stared down at me, as if I was just a child. I stood, too, and was annoyed to find I still had to tilt my head back to look up at him.
Stupid, tall, sexy, charming boy.
“It’s great that you think this is all a huge joke, but I take marriage seriously.” I flattened my palm against my chest. My mother was the one who played at being a wife. My mother was the fuck up of marriage. I’d seen what that had done to my father. I refused to be like my mother.
He frowned. “Do you think I’m joking?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to think, Trace. All I know is that this,” I said, motioning between us, “doesn’t fit into my future. I’ve worked hard for my degree, and I have plans that don’t include a meaningless marriage to a guy I met in Vegas. If we get it annulled, it’ll be like it never happened.” I swiped my hand in the air between us as if I could erase what we’d done. “When I apply for positions after graduation, I don’t want this mistake hanging over me. I just want it to disappear.”
A look of hurt flashed across Trace’s face, and I felt slightly guilty for being so rude. But mostly, I felt terrified. I had to make this go away before my father found out about it, and I definitely had to make it disappear before it became a permanent mark on my reputation.
“Didn’t you know all the best things are unplanned?” Trace asked, bitterly.
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “My life is very planned, and I like it that way. That’s what’s best for me.”
“That’s not what you said on your birthday. Besides, things don’t always go as planned.” He pressed his lips together, and I wondered what caused the look of frustration on his face. “Trust me, I’m an expert on that. Sometimes the best things in life are the things we didn’t expect. Maybe this happened to us for a reason.” Trace bent over to pick up his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder. I tried not to notice how the muscles on his arms tensed and rippled with the motion. And I really tried not to get turned on by how much I liked looking at him.
Stupid, muscular, tall, sexy, charming boy. Just stupid.
I threw my hands up in the air. “Or maybe it happened because we were too drunk to make rational decisions.”
“Rational is boring. Passionate is so much better, don’t you agree?” He gave me a smoldering look that made my down under sit up and take notice. She remembered that look and what it promised. “I think it would do us both some good to get to know each other. To go out on a date that we’ll both remember,” Trace suggested. His face was so beautiful and his offer so sincere that I was tempted to agree. But I didn’t. I didn’t have time for boys, hot or not. I couldn’t risk my future just to entertain myself in the present.
“I want an annulment, and you’re going to give it to me,” I demanded.
Trace’s posture stiffened, his face losing
all the warmth it had just moments before. “You know what, Cricket? I don’t think I will. We both agreed to start this, but I’m not agreeing to end it. Not now.” He reached into his messenger bag to pull out the paper bag from the dairy and tossed it to me. “Don’t get attached to that,” he said, nodding to the bag. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it on my bedroom floor again.”
He gave me a grin that seemed forced and then turned to jog up the steps, leaving me staring after him with a certificate of marriage crumpled tightly in my fist and my lost bra clutched against my chest. I sat down, pulled my notebook out of my backpack, and opened it back up to my to-do list. I crossed off item three, finished item number four, and added a fifth one.
1. Proofread article for Diamondback
2. Pick up food for Couch Cat
3. Buy a new bra
4. Mail out new paperwork for internships
5. Get my marriage annulled
— TRACE —
8. DEALS WITH THE DEVIL
September 12, 2016
TRACE STONE HAS STILL GOT IT By GossipGrind.com
Trace Stone, X-Games snowboarder, hasn’t been seen on the slopes or at any training facilities lately, but you can still see him in just about every major city. The new Got Milk campaign just hit the streets, and so have his adoring fans. With nothing but his snowboard and a milk mustache, Trace Stone has bared all in the new ad which can be seen on many city buses and on a huge billboard in Times Square. Magazines featuring the ad are flying off the shelves. However, the question on everyone’s mind is, how long do we have to wait until we see Trace himself flying down the slope in all his glory again? Are gratuitous images all he has left to offer, or does he have any tricks left on that snowboard?
=========================
“Hey, asshole. I heard you were on the East Coast.”
I grinned, glad to hear normalcy in my brother’s voice again. “Yeah. I signed up for some classes at UMD this semester. I’m taking a break. ”
There was a long pause, and I wondered if Huck had hung up.
“Taking a break from boarding?” he finally asked. “Wasn’t that what the four months after surgery were for?”
I hiked my messenger bag higher on my chest and pulled the brim of my baseball hat over my eyes as I passed a group of guys skateboarding down the steps of the Comcast Center. “No, that was recovery. This is a break. Kind of.”
His laugh was a mix of incredulity and confusion. “You just started training again in August, how could you need a break already? I thought you wanted to go to the Olympics.”
“I did.” I looked both ways before stepping out into the crosswalk. Switching the phone to my other ear, I corrected myself. “I do. I just…right now I need to take some classes. It’s only four more months. I can work out at the gym and build up my strength, and there are some great mountain biking trails that are close. Besides, Woodward is only a few hours away. I can do cross-training at the Gear and Grind skate park on the weekends if I want to. I’m still training, I’m just taking classes, too.” There was another moment of silence, and I felt the need to fill it when Huck didn’t say anything. “Training wasn’t going well out west. My head wasn’t in the right place, and I needed to switch things up. This is important, too.” I just hadn’t known that for sure until this summer. “When I got hurt, I realized that if I lost snowboarding, I didn’t have anything else. My medals are my only accomplishments.”
Huck cleared his throat. “They aren’t your only accomplishments.” He said it like it almost pained him to admit something positive about me.
I clenched my jaw. “If I’m not Trace Stone, X-Games medalist, then what am I? There’s nothing else.”
“Oh, cry me a river.” Huck was irritated. “You’re worse than a kicked puppy. So you got hurt and you’re going to have to work hard to get back to where you were. No one said it was going to be easy, and if it were, it wouldn’t be worth it anyway.”
True.
Huck had always been there to give me a kick in the pants when I needed it. Sometimes literally. I was glad things were getting back to normal between us again. I should probably thank Cat for that. No better way for my brother to forget that his fiancée cheated on him with me than to fall in love with a wildcat like Cate Maverick. She made him forget every girl that had come before her. I was surprised to find I was jealous of him. Of what he had with her.
“You’ve never liked easy,” he said when I didn’t respond.
“What are you, a fortune cookie?” I laughed.
“Fuck you, Lawrence.”
“Right back at ya, Huxley,” I countered.
Yeah, we got screwed on the middle names. Although, he chose to embrace his, going by Huck instead of his first name, William.
Huck laughed. “Anyway. The reason I was calling is that Cat and I are coming home this weekend for a visit. Jay’s redoing Mom’s living room and needs to do a consult with her. She got all excited and promised to treat him to his first crab feast. He’s dragging us along to protect him from what he calls the steamed ocean roaches. So…you gonna show up?”
Jay was Cat’s best friend, and by default, I think he was one of Huck’s, too. He was an interior designer in LA where Cat, Huck, and he all lived. My mom had sort of fallen in love with Jay when he came home with Huck last Christmas. I think Jay had fallen in love with Denton, the son of a family friend, at our annual holiday party. Jay needed reasons to come back to the East Coast to see Denton, and my mom was only too happy to put him to work when he visited. Half of her house had already been redecorated thanks to Jay. If you asked me, she had a serious crush on him. It didn’t matter that she was married or that he was gay.
“Saturday or Sunday?” I asked.
“Saturday. We’re taking a train up to Manhattan on Sunday so I can visit Jake. I haven’t seen him since Aunt Jeanie died. I’m taking Cat and Jay to an O’s game on Friday. We’re using Dad’s season tickets if you want to join us.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Cat likes baseball?” Cat was punk rock. She liked the skate park, graffiti, and pushing boundaries. I couldn’t imagine her, or her snarky wit, sitting through a four-hour baseball game. Especially for the Orioles, who usually lost.
“It’s how I won a first date with her,” Huck said. “She likes the underdog.”
I took a set of steps two-at-a-time as I rounded the back of the building. I usually took the back ways to all of my classes. I knew my baseball hats weren’t much of a disguise, and I didn’t want to deal with being recognized. Maryland was a big campus, but still, blue-tipped hair and a mug that was part of the current Got Milk campaign were hard to hide, so back ways it was.
“Underdog? That makes no goddamn sense, and I seriously hope that’s not some fucked up sexual innuendo. Your girl is hot as fuck, but keep that shit to yourself. I don’t want to think about your bare ass under anything.”
Huck ignored me. “So are you coming or what? Mom needs to know how many crabs to order.”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” As I pulled open the door to enter the School of Public Health, a thought occurred to me. “Can I bring a date?”
“You really want to subject some poor girl to Mom?” Huck chuckled. So far, the only person either of us had brought home who was able pass our mother’s judgment with flying colors was Jay. And he was dating either of us.
“I’ll risk it,” I told him.
“If you say so. Bring whoever you want. But I’m just warning you, Mom’s not the only problem. I don’t put a leash on Cat. Make sure your date has tough skin.”
“Cat’s not as scary as you think, bro. See you Saturday.” I hung up and put my phone in my back pocket. If Harlow stood up to Cat half as well as she did to me, she’d be fine. The only problem was that I’d have to convince Harlow to come with me.
I entered the classroom and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her seated up front. She still hadn’t managed to change her class and, at this point, it was probably too late, anyway.
It had been several weeks since the first day of the semester, and although I sat next to her each time, we hadn’t spoken about her leaving again except for the second day when I’d asked her why she was still attending. Apparently, she couldn’t find anything else that fit into her schedule. I liked to believe it was because she didn’t want to.
Slowly but surely, the ice was melting between us. She still wasn’t happy to see me most days, but I could usually coax a few smiles out of her by the end of class. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, she was attracted to me, and it was getting harder for her to act immune to it. She had yet to accept one of my lunch date invitations, but it took her longer to say no each time.
She hadn’t brought up the subject of dissolving the marriage again, but I figured it was only a matter of time. She was a journalism major. Maybe she was researching her options. Or maybe she was back to pretending it never happened. Either way, I was happy to avoid that particular argument.
Once again, she had her notebook out and was already writing in it. If I had to guess, she was making another one of her damn lists. I’d never seen anyone with their days so brutally planned out. Even though I’d always had a vision for my future, it had been more relaxed. Maybe that was the lifestyle of being a snowboarder, or maybe it was because I liked to live life by the seat of my pants. My goals were big and I didn’t have to map out a million different steps to get where I wanted. I just had to get better and work hard. Every day.
I sat down next to Harlow. She didn’t bother to acknowledge me, but I could see the way her body stiffened at my nearness. As if she needed to protect herself from me.
I opened my messenger bag and got out my own notebook, peering down at what she’d been writing.
1. Call Marlow
2. Get milk
3. Write Treblemakers article for Diamondback