by Kelsie Rae
Thankfully, he gets my meaning.
“Pardonne moi,” he apologizes, though his voice lacks sincerity. “May I offer you dessert?”
“No, but thank you,” Rhett declines. He turns his attention to me. “I think Indie and I need to go home and have a little chat. We’ll make reservations soon, though.”
He might be speaking to Chef Thomas, but his words are for me.
Hesitantly, I intertwine our fingers before gently tugging him to the exit. It seems the rest of our party has already left, and it’s just us.
“It was really good to see you, Chef Thomas. Like Rhett said, I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon.” My not-so-subtle comment seems to be enough reassurance for Thomas.
“I will see you soon then.”
And with that, we leave. Heading home to have a chat while thoughts of what-ifs swarm my mind.
Chapter 21
Rhett
I could almost see the thick wall being built around Indie’s heart the moment my question to Bill slipped past my lips.
She’s terrified I’m going to choose work over her. With her past, I can’t blame her.
“I need to take Harry out for a few. Do you want to come, or would you prefer to get changed, and I’ll be over when he’s finished?” We’re walking into our building as I ask the question.
“I’m pretty beat. Maybe we should just call it a night.” Her shoulders sag slightly with the weight she’s trying to carry by herself.
Carefully, I halt her steps. Making sure I have her full attention, I turn her to me.
“Indie.”
She stares down at my black loafers. After a minute, she takes a deep, shuddering breath. The motion causes her chest to expand and brush against mine.
Finally, she gains the courage to look up at me.
“It isn’t a big deal.” Her lie hangs heavy in the air. “We can talk tomorrow or something.”
“Indie,” I repeat. My fingers tip her chin up to me. “You missed the second half of the conversation. Bill is willing to work with me from a remote location, but I need you to have a little more faith in me. I know we don’t know each other that well quite yet, but do you honestly think I’m going to throw away one of the best things in my life for a job?” Her eyes turn glassy as my words sink in.
“You’re not moving?” she whispers as her bottom lip trembles ever so slightly.
“Do you want me to stay, sunshine?”
“I can’t ask that of you.” Yes, she can. She only has to say the words.
“Do you remember what I told you? Your pain is my pain. Your hurt is my hurt. Now answer the question. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Stay?” Our mouths are a breath apart as I punctuate the last few words, waiting for her to answer.
“I want you to—”
I cut her off with a searing kiss before dropping my arms to her waist and pushing her against the nearest wall. The heat from our anger over a simple misunderstanding, combined with our building lust, is a heady concoction.
My lips drag down her throat as she pants, “I thought I lost you before I even had the chance to have you.”
She draws my mouth back to hers. Sliding her tongue into my mouth, she devours my passion. I fight her for dominance, gripping her wrists firmly and planting them above her head.
“Mmm,” she hums.
“You won’t ever lose me, sunshine. It isn’t possible,” I promise before dragging her up to my apartment and showing her exactly what she means to me.
Afterward, I take Harry on a quick walk then we spend the rest of the night cuddled on my king-sized bed while watching Ratatouille.
The girl knows every damn line, which has me smiling from ear to ear.
She has no idea how much she already means to me. No idea what I’d sacrifice to be with her. No idea how precious she truly is.
And I want to punch Anthony for ever making her feel like anything less than she truly is.
A loud pounding against my front door rouses me from sleep. Indie is snuggled against my side, completely oblivious to the chaos in the hallway, and I carefully slide out from her hold.
“Open the damn door, Rhett. I know she’s in there!” Anthony roars.
It’s obvious he’s drunk as hell.
I unlock the door and am almost knocked on my ass when Anthony shoves it open the rest of the way. And sucker punches me in the jaw.
“What the hell?” I growl, rubbing my chin. He might be drunk, but he still packs a mean right hook.
“Where’s my girlfriend, asshole?”
My fists tighten until my knuckles are white from the pressure as I consider his statement.
“She isn’t your girlfriend anymore, asshole,” I throw his word back at him.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he returns, getting in my face and throwing his arm backward toward my open door. “We’re still living together. You want to pretend that isn’t a relationship?”
“No, you just haven’t gotten your stuff out of her place yet.”
He laughs. “We’ve been together for thirteen years. You think we haven’t had a few fights in all that time? Are you honestly naive enough to think she’d really leave me, a guy she’s known her entire life, to be with some stranger?” He stumbles farther into the room. My eyes narrow as they follow his movement.
“You don’t deserve Indie.” Anger rolls off me in heated waves because he might be a good guy, but he treated her like an afterthought.
My comment seems to hit its mark, deflating Anthony right before my eyes. “You’re right. I don’t. But I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her. Even if she slipped up with you.” His eyes burn into me, marking me for the rest of my life.
“She ended things with you before she ever ‘slipped up’ with me.”
He shakes his head slightly, his gaze filling with pity.
“We had a fight, Rhett. That was all it was.”
I pause, because for the first time since I met her, doubt creeps in.
She introduced me to Julio as Rhett, not her boyfriend. Sure, Sophie saw us together, but she’s a pretty free spirit. Maybe she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about cheating.
Nausea swarms my insides as I entertain the possibility that he’s telling the truth. Even if I didn’t know she was cheating, I still slept with an unavailable woman. I still opened up to her. I still fell in love with her.
Indie takes this particular moment to rouse from slumber. Her hair is still mussed from sleeping in my bed when she peeks around the corner. Her mesmerizing indigo eyes nearly pop out of her head as she takes in the scene in front of her.
Blood dripping from the side of my mouth, Anthony pacing the carpet, and Harry growling in his kennel at our intruder.
When she finally takes a second to look at my face, she knows I’m pissed.
“What’s going on?” she murmurs to no on in particular.
Anthony and I remain silent with our chests heaving in barely-restrained anger.
The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with a knife as I whisper a question to Indie. One that will affect the rest of my life. “Indie.” Her gaze sticks to mine. “Were you cheating on Anthony with me?”
Indie’s face morphs into a mixture of guilt and shock. “What? What are you talking about?”
I nod my head solemnly in understanding.
“Rhett, no! Of course not! How could you ask me that?” Her eyes bounce between the two men in her life.
I laugh sardonically. Two men.
“Don’t lie to him, Indie!” Anthony shouts as the stench of alcohol wafts through the air. Her denial seems to have angered him all over again. “This is bullshit!”
“I’m not lying!” she yells back at him. “Rhett, you have to believe me! Tony and I are done!”
Anthony jumps right back in. “Then why are we still living together? Why is all my shit still in our apartment? Ever thought of that, Indie? I never said we were done!”
“What are you even talking about?” she argues, tugg
ing on the strands of her long blonde hair in confusion.
“I’ve been on a business trip!” Anthony continues yelling. “You knew that! I told you about it, remember? So what do you do while your boyfriend is away? You get your rocks off with another guy! How could you do that to me? How could you throw away a thirteen-year relationship for the asshole next door?”
She screams her frustration, caught between her boyfriend and the guy she’s been messing around with.
It’s ridiculous.
And it hurts.
Bad.
I grab Harry’s leash off the counter without uttering a single word. Indie and Anthony continue arguing in the background.
I unlock Harry’s kennel and attach the leash with a firm grip on his collar. It’s obvious he’s feeling the same tension we are. I wouldn’t want him to attack the intruder in my home, even if I think Anthony deserves it.
Slipping on my tennis shoes that are lying by the front door, I go for one of the longest runs of my life. Each step pounds against the pavement in rhythm with my battered heart. My head aches as I try to piece together what the hell just happened.
Chapter 22
Indie
I wake up to a nightmare. Accusations being flung from all directions that make my head spin.
What the hell just happened?
Rhett bolted faster than lightning, and Anthony is drunk off his ass while squawking about cheating, trying again, and throwing apologies around in a garbled mess of chaos.
I hastily grab the rest of my things then rush back to my apartment, even though Rhett already left with Harry. A pissed-off Tony follows me, walking into my little home like he owns the place.
My feet dig into the carpet in the family room before turning around and addressing my ex.
“What are you doing here, Tony?” My tone is laced with barely-restrained anger.
“I come home from my business trip, ready to talk things over when”—he waves his hands in the air, his words slightly slurred—“low and behold, my girlfriend isn’t home. So, I wait. And maybe I had a few beers. Sue me. But I wait some more.” He’s practically swaying on his feet.
“And then . . . what?” I spit the words, trying to rush his story in hopes of getting to the point.
“And then I figured you were probably screwing Rhett behind my back, so I went over there.” His words are like poison, slipping into my veins from the knife he just embedded in my aching heart.
“What?” I shake my head while trying to get a grip on reality. “Tony, you and I aren’t together anymore. We broke up.”
He scoffs. “We had a fight. We didn’t break up. But if that’s what helps you sleep at night, then sure. Go right ahead.” He rolls his eyes dramatically before plopping onto the couch and resting his head in his hands. Groaning, he rolls to his side, curling into the fetal position. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
I don’t fight it because I know arguing with a sober Tony will be much easier than with a drunk one.
Stomping toward my room, I take a deep breath before turning around and grabbing some pain meds from the cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge. I place both items on the Birch wood coffee table as angry tears swell in my eyes.
My gaze catches on a photo of the beach hanging on the wall, and the sight nearly breaks me. Pretty sure Rhett has ruined beaches for me. Bastard. I’ll never see another one without thinking of him.
I can fix this, I tell myself, trying to sound positive and determined. But it doesn’t work. In fact, it feels pretty horrible because in all honesty? I’m not sure if I can.
I toss and turn all night, my ears listening for a fluffy white dog and his owner to scuffle down the hall.
I don’t hear anything.
By seven, I throw in the towel and head to his apartment.
Tony is still snoring away on my couch, and I roll my eyes as I walk past him. He’s going to get a major tongue lashing when he wakes up. That’s for sure.
I hesitate before rapping my knuckles against the door. Maybe I should let him get some rest. What kind of crazy person knocks on someone’s door at seven in the morning?
Apparently this one.
I tap against the chipped paint and wait for Rhett to answer.
Harry barks on the other side, and a muffled voice says, “Shut up, Harry.”
The sound gives me a renewed sense of hope, and I continue pounding away.
“Open up, Rhett! We need to talk!” I whisper-shout, trying not to wake the neighbors while also trying to get Rhett’s attention.
I’m pretty sure they’re still pissed off from the epic meltdown that occurred only a few hours before.
Silence.
Again, I bang my knuckles against the door.
“Seriously, Rhett! We need to talk!”
More silence.
“Rhett! If you don’t open this door, I’m going to call Chef Thomas to come kick your ass! Open this door. Now!” My voice has risen to a high-pitched screech when Miss Perkins from down the hall opens her door and loudly shushes me with a look of pure annoyance on her wrinkled old face.
Oops. So much for not disturbing the neighbors.
“Rhett!” I yell this time, since it doesn’t matter. “I’m not leaving!”
The door swings open as my arm is raised to continue pounding the door. Awkwardly, I drop it to my side.
“What?” he asks coldly before folding his arms over his broad chest and leaning against the doorframe. His normally warm eyes are staring daggers at me, making me feel tiny and insignificant.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Fine. You’ve said your peace, now go home.” He moves to shut the door, but I hold my hands up in a stopping gesture. “Wait!”
He pauses, but his gaze doesn’t get any friendlier.
“Look. I don’t know what that was, or what he said to you before I woke up, but we’re not together.” His jaw clenches, and a flash of hurt flares to the surface before he covers it with indifference.
“He seems to think otherwise.”
“Rhett—”
“No. You need to figure your shit out, and you need to do it somewhere that isn’t around me.”
And with that, he closes the door quietly in my face. The soft click causes me to jump. Like that faint sound is the final nail in our relationship too.
And it guts me.
You know the saying, when it rains, it pours? Well, looks like it’s going to be one of those days. My phone vibrates only seconds after I walk back into my bedroom, and my mom’s name flashes across the screen.
I close the bedroom door before lightly hitting the back of my head against it as I debate whether I should answer.
What will she think of the mess I’m in?
It isn’t pretty, and that’s the only thing my mom really knows how to handle.
When I deliver bad news, she shuts down. And right now, I really need an unbiased mom to tell me what to do.
After another moment of hesitation, I slide my thumb across the screen, answering her call.
“Hi.” My voice sounds scratchy. It’s raw from trying to hold back tears, and it’s a dead giveaway to my mom that something’s wrong.
“Oh no. What’s going on?”
“I uh . . .” I laugh dryly, though there’s nothing funny about my situation. “Rhett and I kind of had a fight.”
“Who’s Rhett, sweetheart?” Surprisingly, my mom’s tone is gentle. I thought the mention of a man other than Tony would give her heart palpitations.
“Rhett’s kind of my new boyfriend,” I admit as a single tear slides down my cheek. “Or at least he was . . . now I’m not so sure.”
“What happened?”
And that’s when I spill. I tell her everything. Every feeling I’ve ever felt for Rhett, and every feeling I’ve never felt for Tony. I tell her how I thought Rhett was the one. How all my dreams slipped through my fingers with a simple misunderstanding.
One that I don’t know how to fix.
She listens the entire time, oohing and awing at the appropriate parts while asking for clarification on other aspects of the story.
By the time I’m finished, I’m a sobbing mess on the floor as my mother promises everything’s going to be okay. That true love will find a way and all that other fairy-tale crap.
I swallow past the golf ball-sized lump in my throat as I blow my nose into a tissue.
“Sorry about the breakdown, Mom.”
“Oh, Indie. You know you can always talk to me. You can tell me anything, I promise. I’m sorry I made you feel bad about your breakup with Tony. I was just surprised, that’s all. I want you to be happy. That’s all a mom ever wants. But you were right. When you know, you know. And if you didn’t know after thirteen years of being together, then he wasn’t the one meant for you. Maybe you simply need to explain that to Tony too.” Her words of wisdom are a soothing balm to my mess of a life.
“I tried Mom.”
“Sometimes we need to repeat ourselves, so that our words can make a bigger impact.”
I roll my eyes, even though I know she might have a point. “Okay, Mom. I think I’ll try that.”
“Good.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “And when you patch things up with Rhett, let me know. Your father and I would love to meet him.”
I smile sadly at her offer. “Thanks, Mom. We’ll see how it goes, okay?”
“All right, sweetie. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I press the red button on my phone before sliding it into the waistband of my pajama bottoms. The elastic pins my cell between my hip and the fabric.
Apparently, Tony and I need to have another little chat. And this time, I need to make things crystal clear instead of freezing up and leaving things open to interpretation.
Taking a deep breath, I head into the family room to find Tony sitting up with his head in his hands.