Found

by Portia Moore

  I smile at her, taking a sip. I’ve never cared for champagne, it’s too dry, but this tastes expensive if nothing else. “It’s good. Enjoying the party?”

  Sonya shrugs. “After a while, they all start to blend together. She frowns a little, taking another drink. “Did I see you dancing with Rain?”

  “I thought I should dance with the birthday girl.” I smile blandly, saying it as if it means nothing, as if having Rain in my arms again didn’t make my heart want to beat out of my chest and my cock want to rip out of my pants.

  Sonya rolls her eyes. “You’d think that every man in the room should be wanting to.”

  “Seems like they’re more into her sister. How sad? Her sister is upstaging her at her own party.” I nod towards Erin, who is still surrounded by a group of men who are all way too old for her.

  “Like sister, like sister,” Sonya says with a snort. “These social-climbing trash are all the same. That girl will find herself a dick attached to a big wallet in no time, mark my words.”

  My stomach clenches again at that. The idea of Erin with one of these perverted older men who don’t even care that she’s not legal in the States makes me feel sick, but I’m careful not to show it. Just like I’m careful not to show that all I want is to go out and find Rain. Every part of me feels fidgety with the need to go after her.

  Instead, I just shrug casually again, draining my glass and dropping it on a passing tray as if I drink champagne that costs thousands of dollars every night. “Lucky guy, then, who gets her.”

  “You think so?” Sonya narrows her eyes.

  “Hey, not my type.” I grin at her. “I like my women experienced, who knows what she’s doing, with some curves to handle and some years on her,” I say seductively. “Just like my cars, right?” I joke.

  “You did handle that Ferrari well.” Sonya’s eyes flick down my body, and I know she’s thinking about that handjob in the Ferrari on the way back from her apartment, the threesome afterward, and the way she fucked me blind all night. Normally, that would have me hard and considering sneaking off for a quickie, but I’m not sure Sonya could get me going right now no matter how hard she tried. All I want is Rain. All I can think about is Rain.

  I’m going to fuck everything up if I’m not careful.

  “Shit.” She glances over, and I see a well-dressed, older man heading in our direction. “Work never ends, even at a party.” She tosses back the last of her champagne and gives me her most dazzling smile. “Gotta help Vincent close those deals while all the fat cats are here.”

  “I’ll miss you,” I say teasingly, but my mind is already calculating how long I should wait before going out to the gardens and seeing if I can find Rain.

  I don’t manage it very long. I wander to the appetizer table and pick up some sort of meat on a stick, watching carefully without being obvious to make sure no one is watching what I’m doing. But here, I’m mostly invisible. Vincent and Sonya are the only ones with any reason to notice where I’m going, and they’re both off somewhere else, making those deals that she was so irritated with. To everyone else here, I’m just Sonya’s boy toy, her inappropriate fling that they can all whisper about and talk about how she should get a husband like a nice girl.

  In another life, I’d probably have had a lot of respect for Sonya’s backbone and her refusal to just fall into the place everyone else wants her in. Hell, I have a decent amount now. But I can’t forget that she helped force me to torture a man, that she’s probably done way worse and might make me do worse still.

  But for now, I can’t think about that. All I can think about is Rain as I stride casually towards the French doors as if I’m just going for a walk and not going after my ex-girlfriend.

  Who, come to think of it, isn’t even really my ex. I didn’t break up with her, not really. I just told her I had to leave. Something like what we had can’t really be broken up.

  Just torn apart.

  It’s not hard to find her. She’s sitting on a bench near the fountain, and when she looks up, I can see in the light from the lamps and fairy lights strung around the garden that she’s been crying. Her mascara is slightly smudged, her eyes a little red, and she looks startled when she sees me.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I came to find you,” I say roughly. I shouldn’t fucking be out here, but I already know there was nothing else I could do. I couldn’t stay inside knowing that Rain might need me, not during this one time when I might actually be able to talk to her unnoticed.

  “Why? You don’t know me, remember?” Her tone is accusatory. “You’re Chase West. Not my best friend. Not my….You didn’t even remember it was my birthday.” She swallows hard, standing up. “I should probably go inside.”

  Rain starts to push past me on the path, but I gently grab her upper arms again, steering her towards the fountain out of view of the doors. It won’t look good if anyone finds us, but I’m not going to be able to do my job if we don’t fix this because I’m too distracted.

  “Of course, I know it’s your birthday,” I say quietly. “I could never forget about you ever! I know everything about you. I couldn’t get you out of my head if I tried, which I sure as hell have. I remember everything.” Her eyes are wide and she looks breathless; I feel breathless. Her expression has softened from the hard one she’s had on with me all night. I push out the air in my lungs

  “But I can’t let on that I do, Rain. There’d be a lot of trouble for both of us if anyone, particularly your fiancé, found out about our history.”

  Her face hardens again. “So you’re pretending not to know me because you’re afraid of Vincent?”

  Sure. Let her think that.

  “Something along those lines.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why you’re using a fake name.”

  “I can’t tell you about that.” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my mouth. “Look, a lot changed since I left. There’s a lot that’s happened to me that I can’t talk to you about. It would put you in danger. That’s all I can say, and I hope you can respect that—”

  “What about Sonya?” Rain challenges. “How did you meet her? She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl you liked, Zach, and she’s not anything like—”

  She trails off quickly, but I know what she was about to say. Not anything like me. And of course, Sonya isn’t anything like Rain. There couldn’t be two women more different. Which is why I love—loved—Rain and just get turned on by Sonya. And right now, with Rain right in front of me, there’s no woman in the world, including Sonya, who could make me want her or anyone else. Only Rain.

  “I guess none of it even matters,” she says sadly. I hate myself for lying to her. We were always honest with each other, for the most part. She looks down like it hurts her to see me, and the silence is killing me until she finally locks her eyes on me.

  “I thought about going after you—”

  My world seems to freeze for a minute. I know that I was the one that left, that I wanted Rain to have a better future, that I separated myself from her on purpose. But just hearing her say those words opens up a flood of pain, the feeling that the possible future we might have had is being ripped from me all over again just knowing she thought about coming after me. “I could have gone to jail. I wanted a better life for you.”

  “After everything, all those years of saying we were soulmates, that we couldn’t be together because you needed to protect me, you just left me on my own. All alone, right after one of the happiest moments of my life. It crushed me, Zach.”

  “You can’t say my name out loud,” I murmur.

  “Okay.” Rain bites her lower lip. “I’m sorry. It’s just—” she looks up at me, her blue eyes wide and misty, and she looks so fucking gorgeous in that moment that it makes me ache. “I’ve been missing saying your name for so long.”

  Fuck.

  My whole body hurts hearing her say that, my gut knotting with emotion I haven’t felt in years, and the moment is m
ore than I can stand. Out here in the gardens, in Italy, with the trickle of the fountain in the background and the fairy lights shining around us, with Rain looking like a princess and staring up at me like she wants me to save her all over again

  I can’t stop myself. I fucking can’t. I step forward, pushing her deeper into the shadows, and drag her up against me, every inch of her long slender body pressed to mine from chest to thighs, my cock rock-hard and throbbing against her thigh through the thin material of her dress as my lips crash down onto hers, my tongue sliding over her lower lip, tasting her, drinking her in, devouring her like I’ve been dying to for the last four fucking years. She moans a low and desperate sound in her throat as her mouth opens under mine, and she tastes so fucking sweet. She’s kissing me back, her arms around my neck, her nails pressing into my shoulders, her body straining against mine as if she wants me inside of her as desperately as I want to be. I never thought I’d touch her again, never even let myself dream of it, and this is almost too much. She’s the one that pulls away, panting.

  “Zach.” She whispers my name against my mouth. “Zach, we can’t, Vincent—”

  Her fiancé’s name breaks the spell. I let go of her, stepping back almost like I’m drunk. Drunk on her mouth, on the sweet fucking taste of her, and God, I want more.

  “Fuck.” I clear my throat. “That was a mistake.”

  Her face pales. “I didn’t mean—”

  I glance back towards the French doors—mercifully, no one has come out. “I should go.”

  “Zach—”

  “It’s Chase.” I cut her off, my voice rough. “Don’t forget it again, Rain. It’s really fucking important.”

  I can’t stand the wounded look in her eyes. I can’t stand looking at her and knowing she’d probably let me kiss her again if I tried. I can’t stand wondering how much further she’d let me take it if I pushed. Because I want to keep going. I want to push her over the line and drag us both down together.

  But I’m not going to. So instead of looking at her standing there like a wounded doe, I turn on my heel and stride back towards the house.

  Some fucking party.

  28

  Rain

  My lips are still stinging from Zach’s kiss, and my heart is in my throat. That was the last thing I’d expected, even less than I’d expected him to come out here after me.

  It felt so good.

  Too good.

  Almost good enough to distract me from the reality of what would have happened if someone anyone saw us and told Vincent, Sonya, hell, anyone in this house. The one thing that I do know is that he’s still the one who can make my heart race like no one else, who can make me melt into his arms with just a touch of his lips, who can make me forget everything else and every reason why we shouldn’t do something just by looking at me.

  I still love him.

  I know it hasn’t changed, however much I know it was supposed to. We were supposed to just be kids who didn’t really know what love was, but it hasn’t gone away. I felt it when I saw him appear out of nowhere that morning he and Sonya showed up, and I felt it tonight when he danced with me and then when he just kissed me.

  All the feelings I ever had for him are still there, buried just under the surface, and he brought them all rushing back.

  But none of that matters because I’m engaged to Vincent. And if Vincent had any idea what just happened—

  As if I’ve summoned him somehow, I see him step out of the French doors suddenly, looking around. I know he’s looking for me, and I wipe at my eyes quickly, trying to clean up the traces of mascara from crying before I step out onto the path. “Hey,” I say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear me.

  He glances over and sees me, and his face is immediately a mask of irritation. “What the fuck are you doing out here, Poppy?”

  I force myself to not show any sign of guilt, push the thought away that Zach’s lips just was just on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his cock hard against me, that it took every ounce of will power in me to stop him, us from going further. My heart feels on fire at the thought of what would have happened if I didn’t get my sense together a minute or two earlier.

  “Just getting some air,” I say quickly. “There are so many people inside, I just needed a minute—”

  Vincent shakes his head disgustedly. “A minute? My family throws an extravagant party for you, and you need a minute? The guests expect to see you, Poppy. You’re the one all this is for.”

  They’re not here for me. They’re here for you! I want to scream. “I’m sorry,” I say, and even to me, it sounds bland. “I really just needed a little air. It’s so nice outside tonight.” I walk towards him, swaying a little as if to distract him, and even though I’m engaged to him, to Vincent, it feels somehow so disloyal to Zach. I’m going insane.

  “It’s so romantic out here tonight,” I say softly, leaning up to wind my arms around his neck even as it makes my stomach turn a little. This is wrong. I knew Vincent and I have been wrong, my body never has, but now it’s been reminded of what has been right.

  Everything just keeps getting more and more confusing, and I want it all to stop so badly.

  “Is it?” Vincent raises an eyebrow, grinning. “It wouldn’t be hard to get lost in this garden, it’s true,” he says, and I make myself give him a flirtatious smile.

  His voice trails off as we both hear a rustling in the bushes.

  My body goes cold.

  What if someone has been there the whole time?

  What if someone saw Zach and me together.

  Vincent’s eyebrows draw together, and he pauses. When the sound comes again, followed by a low grunt, his face darkens.

  “Sometimes people like to—well, get lost in the gardens.”

  I force my legs to steady, and we both head down the cobblestone path, all the way to a small stand of lemon trees that’s not as well-lit.

  But I see the blonde hair and red dress at the same moment Vincent does. It’s Erin, wrapped up in some man’s arms, her dress pushed up to the top of her thighs with her back against one of the trees. The man is kissing her, his hair disheveled. From what I can see, it’s on the verge of going past that if it hasn’t already, and I’m suddenly so fucking angry that I’m past caring if Vincent is upset if I ruin the night.

  I’m supposed to be taking care of Erin, my mother trusted her with me, and now she’s out here making out with some guy and maybe on the verge of losing her virginity to someone who definitely doesn’t deserve it because I’m too afraid of my fiancé to put my foot down.

  Vincent starts to slow down as if he’s about to just let them carry on. But I’m not about to. “Erin!” I yell, my voice higher-pitched than I wanted it to be, and her head jerks up. The minute she sees us, she flushes red, clearly with anger and not embarrassment, but that takes a back seat to the fact that the man turns, and we can see his face even in the dim light.

  It’s Matteo.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Vincent roars, and it’s the most out of control I’ve ever seen him. He strides forwards in two long steps, grabbing the other man by the back of his shirt and hauling him off of Erin, who quickly scrabbles to pull her dress back down her thighs. With a move that even I have to admit is impressive, Vincent throws Matteo back with strength I didn’t entirely know he possessed so that the man crashes into the other lemon trees and is momentarily stunned.

  It doesn’t last long. He stands up, rushing Vincent like a bull, and before I can do more than gasp and jump out of the way, both men are full-on fighting. I’ve never seen anything like it. Vincent is cool and poised at the worst of times, the incident in our bedroom when he found out I lied about the workout is the most unhinged I’ve ever seen him, and this is so shocking that my jaw drops open for a minute.

  Vincent throws a punch, landing it squarely on Matteo’s jaw, and Matteo reels back for a second, but he recovers quickly. His next punch lands too, splitting Vincent’s lip open, and I
cry out, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “Stop it, stop it, you’re ruining everything,” Erin squeals, and I glare at her.

  “Shut up!” I snap, yelling at her for the first time I can remember recently. “This is your fault!” I can’t believe I’m taking Vincent’s side, but I’m so furious with her, so tired of her attitude. It’s inconceivable to me that my intelligent, bright little sister, who gets all A’s and has always been shy, is being this stupid.

  I hear Vincent groan and look back to see that he’s losing the fight. Matteo has him backed into the trees, landing blow after blow, and I gasp as he sends an uppercut into Vincent’s gut that sends him staggering. Vincent sags against the trees, gasping with blood trickling from his lip and nose, and Matteo takes that moment to start running.

  “Someone help!” I scream. “He’s getting away!” The estate has tons of security. Where the hell are they? “How did he even get in here?” Vincent is standing up, and I see him turn to pursue Matteo as I question Erin.

  “I let him in,” she admits quietly. “He texted me and said he wanted to meet, I—”

  Her words are cut off by the sound of loud popping coming from the mansion. My heart stops, and I hear myself scream, terror flooding me at the sound. It’s not popping. It’s gunshots.

  I look back towards the house, shrinking into the trees. “Oh my god—”

  “Stay here!” Vincent shouts, running back towards us. It’s the first time I’ve seen real worry on his face, nothing manufactured, and it terrifies me.

  I can hear more sounds erupting inside the house as Vincent rushes towards it. I hear a strange bang as he runs into the house, and then another, and as Erin shrinks behind me.

  And then something occurs to me.

  Zach. Zach is in there. My chest squeezes tightly, almost painfully, and I can’t stop myself. I start to run towards the French doors, and then I glance behind me, seeing Erin still cowering and terrified. I’m torn, caught between fear for the man I love and fear for my sister, worry about what will happen if I leave her alone, if Matteo comes back, and I know then that I can’t leave her.