“You have to give him the chance to know how you feel. And it’s not fair to push him away by letting him think you had an abortion.”
I looked away and bit the inside of my lip at that. If appletinis were Willow’s weakness, apparently tequila shots were mine. It hadn’t taken long for Marlow to get the truth out of me about why Trace and I were no longer together.
“He deserves the truth.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And if he can’t handle it, you at least have me as backup.”
I shook my head. “I think it’s too late, Marlow. I’ve done something really awful.”
She lifted her eyebrows like she doubted I could do anything truly terrible.
“When we were in Vegas,” I said, squeezing my fists into the laundry, “Trace and I got married at one of those wedding chapels.”
She gave me a strange look. “So you got married in Vegas. No biggie. I think I even did it once.” Marlow shrugged the confession off as if I told her I’d gotten drunk and flashed my tits for a set of Mardi Gras beads. “I fail to see how a drunken wedding is a bigger concern to you than the fact that you made a human being together and let him think you ended it with an abortion without even talking to him about it.”
I bit my bottom lip and looked down at my bare feet. “It’s not the marriage that’s the problem. I mean, not anymore. After our fight, I hired a lawyer to draw up annulment papers. I left them for Trace when I went home for Thanksgiving.” I cleared my throat and lifted my gaze to meet hers. “He signed them and sent them back to me already. I think he’s finally given up on me.”
“Did you file them?” Marlow asked, a look of worry settling around her eyes.
I shook my head. Once I had them back, I realized I couldn’t go through with filing them.
She let out a relieved breath. “Well, then you still have a chance. Take the papers back to him and tell him you changed your mind.”
“What if he says he hasn’t?”
She grinned. “Then you get down on your knees and beg. How can he refuse when he knows there’s a chance for an apology blowie?”
“Marlow!” I threw her clothes in her face, dirty underwear and all.
She put her arms up in defense and tossed her head back, laughing. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking the same thing when I said get down on your knees.”
Damn it. I hated it when she was right.
She pulled me into a hug and I let her, loving the fact that she was on my side no matter how many stupid mistakes I made. “Are you going to make me pay back the money you’ve been putting into my account?” I mumbled against her shoulder. “Because even though I said I didn’t need it, I could really use it. Dad’s being pretty cool about all of this, but I need to take responsibility for my actions and pay off my medical bills.”
Marlow pulled back and looked at me. “If you have bills, I can write a check for you. But I told you before, I didn’t put the money in there.” She patted me on the head like I was twelve instead of twenty-one.
“If you didn’t, who did?”
She shrugged. “Someone who loves you. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” She grinned wickedly and ruffled my hair. “It’s a pretty short list.” I was about to make a biting reply, but she added, “But only because you keep it that way. If you opened yourself up to Trace, you’d find out you make a pretty good wife.”
I sighed. “I don’t know about that. I’ve done a shitty job so far. I thought I was going to be a great journalist, and look how that’s turning out.” My grades had slipped, and I still didn’t have an internship. The only thing I’d done right recently was get my Diamondback articles in on time.
“You don’t have to choose between being a journalist or a girl with a love life. Nobody said you had to be one or the other,” she said, tugging my hair. “Look at me. I’m the Love Lady of LA, and an awesome big sister.”
“Don’t forget to mention pervert.” I grinned. “Poor Flex will probably never get over being groped in my kitchen.”
She sighed. “Such a nice ass, too. It’s too bad he’s taken.” She turned and walked to the couch, falling back into the pillows, and pulling the computer onto her lap.
“So…you’re staying?” I asked. Even though I was still irritated about cleaning up after her, it was nice having her around. I hadn’t realized how much I needed a girlfriend. I’d been working so hard at isolating myself over the years in the hopes of the perfect career, that I hadn’t made any friends other than Flex. I hadn’t allowed myself to love.
Marlow looked up from her computer. “I’m staying until you get your act together. I’m not leaving until you’ve groveled enough that you’ve won back your man.”
I twisted my fingers together. “What if that doesn’t happen?”
She picked up her bottle of water, took a long drink to empty it, and then tossed it to the floor. “Then I guess you’ll make a fine maid.”
Groveling it was then.
— TRACE —
32. NEW YEAR, NEW LIST
December 31, 2016
TRACE STONE IS IN ATTENDANCE By HotVegasNights.com
Trace Stone, the American snowboard cross athlete who suffered a massive injury in the 2016 X-Games, is in town to celebrate the New Year. Stone, who competed in his first post-surgery race earlier this month, is expected to make an appearance at the final performance of the Dueling Cellos tonight. It’s also been rumored that while in town for the holiday, he will be attending his brother’s wedding, although details about the location have been kept secret. If you happen to come across a wedding chapel while visiting, peek inside. You just might get a glimpse at the X-Games favorite in a tux and score yourself an autograph.
=========================
The last time I’d been in this bar, I was with Seth and Jamie after a day at ShredCon. It was the night that I’d met Harlow.
Best. Fucking. Night. Of. My. Life.
This time I was with my cousins Dallas, Austin, and Abby. The place was packed with New Year’s Eve revelers. We’d just come from the finale of Dueling Cellos and were waiting for Huck and Cat to show up. My mom was busy being a tornado of irritation back at the Bellagio, interrogating anyone who would listen about details of the wedding the next day. So we’d escaped to the next hotel over to celebrate where she couldn’t find us.
Cat had suggested that I invite Harlow to the wedding, but I hadn’t bothered. If we were going to have any sort of future together, Harlow needed to make the next move. I thought that sending the annulment papers back might provoke her into talking to me, but there had been complete radio silence since. The silence wasn’t actually a bad sign, though. If she had decided to file the annulment, I would have heard back from her since I signed every fucking page Farmboy Wesley instead of Tracey Lawrence Stone. Thanks to my signature graffiti, the annulment was bogus, and the moment she tried to file the papers, she’d have to come back to me to get it redone.
Her silence meant there was still a chance for her to make the big gesture and apologize.
I wasn’t going to worry about that now, however. Tonight was all about celebrating the final show of Dueling Cellos and the upcoming marriage of my brother. If he ever showed up.
“Where is that jackass?” Dallas asked, sipping on his Shirley Temple. The bartender had given him a funny look when he ordered it, but because of all the medications Dallas took to control his pain, alcohol was a luxury he was no longer able to enjoy.
I spun my drink on the table, watching as the liquid sloshed up the sides. “Have you seen his fiancée? There’s no such thing as rushing Cat along or making her—” Before I could finish the thought, Cat collapsed into the chair across from me, her hair a riot of red braids and curls. I looked at my brother who sat down next to her. “What took so long?” I asked.
He cast a worried glance at Cat. and then mouthed, “Mom.” He shook his head with the silent order to let the subject die.
“Trace,” Cat said, oblivious
to my question. “This is Piper DeNazzi, my friend from home.”
I looked up to acknowledge the girl she was gesturing to. Piper’s black hair was streaked with turquoise and twisted into one of those messy hairdos that girls liked to wear. As it was intended, the style made her look sexy and unapproachable. Piper gave me a friendly grin and pointed at me. “I know you,” she said, narrowing her eyes as if trying to place me. “Trace Stone. Snowboard cross, right?”
I nodded. I knew who she was too. Piper was a professional skateboarder, a queen of the Summer X-Games and one of Cat’s childhood friends. I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Piper shook it and then tilted her head toward the crowd behind us. “I’m going to get something from the bar. Anyone want anything?” Everyone gave her their orders, and she left, weaving through the crowd like she was in a skate bowl.
Cat leaned across the table and nodded her head in the direction Piper had gone. “She’s nice, right?”
I frowned and took a sip of my drink. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Good.” Cat smirked. “Because she’s your date to the wedding.”
“Cat—”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t do your job and get your own date. You’re lucky I found someone for you to dance with at the reception. Because let me tell you, if you show up alone, Jay will take that as an invitation.”
“He gets handsy when he drinks,” Huck added. “Trust me.”
I frowned. “I thought he was dating Denton.”
“He is,” Cat said. “But Denton couldn’t make it.”
I set my drink down and twirled it around again. “Cat, I’m really not in the mood to have a date. You know about Harlow.”
Cat reached up and tucked one of the small braids behind her ear. “Yeah, I know, but you haven’t talked to her in over a month, and she hasn’t contacted you either. Life is too short to go to a wedding without a dance partner.”
I took a deep breath and then said, “Look. Piper seems nice and all. But I’m not interested.”
“Thank God.” Piper set a handful of glasses on the table loudly and looked at me. “Because I’d hate to have to break your heart. I’m not interested either. You don’t have the right hardware, my friend.” Her eyes dropped to my lap. I was well on my way to being offended when a slender pair of arms looped around Piper’s shoulders followed by the face of a pretty girl who kissed her on the lips.
“You two are such spoilsports,” Cat said, crossing her arms. “You could have at least let me toy around with him a little before you started sucking face.” Cat turned to look at me, and jerked her thumb at Piper. “Just kidding about the date thing. Piper brought her own.”
I looked around the table to find my cousins and brother all grinning along at Cat’s joke.
“You should have seen your face when she rejected you,” Dallas said. “It was like she took away your cookie…which in a way…”
Everyone laughed again, and I grinned too, happy that even though this marked the end of Dallas and Austin’s show and it was bittersweet, we could have this time together. And we could celebrate Cat and Huck.
For the next hour we drank, we danced, and joked. Twenty minutes before midnight, however, I found myself slipping out and looking for the nearest exit. There was only one person I wanted to ring in the new year with and she was thousands of miles away. I crossed the street, and pushed through the crowds to the lake in front of the Bellagio trying to get there in time for the last fountain show. By the time I finally reached the railing, the lights were already out, the fountains were silent, and everyone was getting ready for the countdown to the fireworks.
I turned my back to the crowd and leaned on the railing, staring out across the dark, shiny surface. Memories from the summer played on a loop in my brain. It didn’t matter how drunk I’d gotten that night last summer, I still remembered every single moment with Harlow.
“Will you marry me?”
That’s what I’d asked her. At the time it had been a joke, but even then I think I’d known that there was a shred of truth in the question. I could tell she was the kind of girl you walked down the aisle, not just the hallway to your hotel room.
“Will you marry me?”
The thought echoed through my mind again, only this time in Harlow’s voice.
Fuck. I wasn’t just remembering that night anymore. I was hallucinating. I dropped my head onto my fists, the alcohol I’d had at the bar making my head swim.
A hand touched my elbow. “Will you marry me?”
I lifted my head to see who was standing next to me. For a moment, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me because all I could see was Harlow. I straightened up and turned to face her, shocked into silence by her question and the fact that I was seeing her again for the first time in almost two months.
“Will you marry me?” she asked again, a look of uncertainty on her face.
She was here. She’d come back.
And she was using my pick-up line.
I tried to remember our exchange from that night. “You’re cute,” I said, looking her up and down. “But I don’t even know you.” I let my eyes linger on her stomach for a moment, and when I lifted my gaze back to hers, I could see the apology in her eyes.
“Then we’ll just have to change that,” she whispered carefully.
I raised my eyebrows in question. I wanted to grab her and pull her to me, kiss her senseless, and at the same time yell at her for pushing me away. But I did nothing. This was her chance to make things right. And I wasn’t going to let her get out of it without a little effort.
“When I saw you,” she said hesitantly, as if testing out the words and my reaction, “I was going to ask you to come have a drink with me.” She paused, and I gave her a half grin in encouragement. “But then I thought there was no way you could say no to a drink once you felt guilty for turning down my marriage proposal.”
“Is that what you figured?” I countered, echoing her words from last summer, itching to touch her but doing my best to play along.
“That’s what I proposed,” she said, letting the words hang between us heavily.
I stared at her and then said, “To be honest, I’m not much of the marrying kind.”
Her hopeful expression fell, like dominoes tumbling across the floor.
“You see,” I said, grabbing her hand when her body started to lean away, “I’m already married.”
Her eyes lit up with relief, and she squeezed my hand as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“So, is that a yes to the drink?” she asked carefully.
I shrugged. “I’m really tired. I was heading up to bed.” I ran my thumb along the inside of her palm. She shivered in response.
“Bed?” she asked, her voice going velvet. “I can work with that.”
So could I. I pulled her to me and leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her face away.
“Wait. Let me apologize first,” she said.
I ran my thumb along her cheek. “I don’t care about the apology. I don’t need the words. You’re here. You chased me down. You’re willing to fight for me. That’s all that matters.”
She cleared her throat, and when she looked up at me, her eyelashes were wet with tears. “But you need to know. I didn’t end the pregnancy. I miscarried. I would never—”
“I know. Flex told me.” I reached up to slide my fingers around the back of her neck, my fingers burying into her hair.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, her voice small. “Why did you let me push you away?”
I leaned down and kissed along her hairline, pressing the words against her skin. “I realized I couldn’t make you be with me. You had to want to be with me.”
Her breath caught as my lips reached the spot below her ear. “It scared me how much I wanted to be with you,” she admitted.
I continued to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw, slowly making my way to her lips.
�
�I’m terrified by how much I love you,” she said quietly.
I paused and then pulled away to look at her. “You love me?”
The edges of her mouth lifted into an unsure smile. “It’s the only thing I’m truly sure of anymore.”
My hands framed her face, pulling her closer until our lips touched. “Tell me again.”
“I love you,” she said, her lips kissing the words onto mine. “I love you.”
She started to say it again, but my mouth was on hers, demanding—starving from all the weeks we’d missed together. When the sound of thousands of people counting down echoed around us, we pulled back and looked at each other, our hands still roaming and remembering.
“I made a list for the new year,” she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth again as if she had to hold in her happiness.
I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah? I want to see that.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded square of paper. I held out my hand, and she placed it in my palm. I opened it up and even over the sound of people counting down around us, I could hear the nervous intake of her breath. As I opened the square, I could feel how well-worn the paper was, as it had been unfolded and folded over and over again. I couldn’t hold back my grin as I looked down at the familiar handwriting I knew so well. The first item was crossed off.
1. Fall in love with Trace
2. Apologize to Trace
3. Tell Trace you love him
4. Ask Trace to marry you
5. Go on a honeymoon
6. Live happily ever after
I folded the paper back up and slipped it into my back pocket. No way was she ever getting it back. It was mine now. Just like her heart.
“Looks like you were missing some of your regular to-do items,” I teased.
Hitched (Hearts of Stone Book 2) Page 29