by Lexi Ryan
I don’t know Itsy. I am Itsy. The words are right there—a bitter pill on my tongue that I desperately want to spit out. But I can’t. “Nothing. And don’t . . .” I trap the sob in my chest and struggle to breathe around it. How long will I feel heartbroken over this? “You told me all I needed to know with what you didn’t say. I told you I couldn’t do just casual with you, and you didn’t say we could try more. You let it go.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
Tears roll down my cheeks. “You were supposed to say you couldn’t do just casual sex with me, either. You were supposed to give enough fucks about me that you wanted more than that too.”
“Maybe I could, but I never expected—”
“Don’t. It’s better that you didn’t. It’s easier this way.” I shake my head. I’ve said more than I want to. “I’ll be out of your hair soon. I’ll be living somewhere else, and you’ll forget I was ever around to tempt you with easy sex.”
“Stella, I want you. Not just your body, not just sex.” He blows out a breath. “I screwed up because I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I panicked. But I’ll figure it out. Give me a chance.”
The universe must be laughing, because until him, until now, I’ve never wanted someone good who actually wanted me back.
Except he doesn’t want me. Not all of me, mistakes included.
I turn to the back door. “We both knew this was a bad idea from the start.” My voice cracks.
“Which part? Moving in, or being with me?”
“Both.” I walk away, even though I know I haven’t fixed anything, and even though it hurts so much to leave another chunk of my heart behind.
Kace
“Dean!” I run outside, fresh out of the shower, in nothing but a pair of cotton shorts. It’s barely daylight, and Dean and Smithy are loading Stella’s bed into Dean’s truck. Her couch is already in there. “What’s happening?”
“Just moving Stella,” Dean says, avoiding my gaze.
Smithy’s eyes go big, like I’m gonna take him out or something.
I spin around, looking for Stella, feeling frantic. Last night she said she was moving soon, but I didn’t think soon meant in less than twelve hours. “Where is she?”
Smithy ducks his head and jogs back to the pool house.
“She’s gone. She didn’t want you trying to convince her to stay,” Dean says, and there’s something hard in his eyes, like he knows more than he’s letting on. He looks at me for a long time, then shakes his head and sighs. “I’m just trying to be a good brother. I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”
I step closer to him and keep my voice low. “Where’s she going to live?”
“She doesn’t want me to say.” Dean cringes and casts a glance over his shoulder toward the pool house. “Listen, I haven’t been a very good friend lately, and I want to do better, but right now, I need to be a good brother first.”
I wouldn’t respect him so damn much if it were any other way, so I back off, even though part of me wants to argue this is the best place for her right now. “Make sure she’s safe, wherever she goes. I couldn’t live with myself if some asshole . . .” I cringe just thinking about her old landlord.
He nods. “I know, man. I will.”
I retreat another step. “I’ll get out of the way, then.”
She’s gone. I watched my own motherfucking best friend pack up Stella’s shit and drive off.
I can’t blame her. It’s a special kind of torture being this close when we’re doing nothing but hurting each other. But watching the guys’ trucks drive off with her stuff felt so damn final, and I don’t want to believe it’s over. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stella
I’ve been sad all week, but today is a happy day. Today I got to watch my lifelong best friend renew her vows with her first love. I watched Brinley and Marston make their promises, and instead of feeling sad or jealous, I felt hopeful. I’m still hurting. My feelings for Kace run too deep, and I won’t get over this anytime soon, but if those two found their way back to each other after all the heartache and obstacles life threw at them, maybe there’s hope for a cheap porno slut like me.
Brinley’s staff turned the patio from a ceremony site into a reception venue seamlessly, and then there was food and cake and toasts, and then I got to watch the best couple I know look into each other’s eyes as they danced.
All my sadness will be there tomorrow, but today’s a good day.
“Hey, beautiful,” Abbi says, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Are you hanging in there?”
I lean my head on hers and sigh. “Yeah. Thanks to about three and a half glasses of champagne.”
She giggle-snorts. “Right? I’m going to regret the bubbly tomorrow, but it is so good.” She turns her head and studies me. “You’re really okay?”
“Not completely. I’m getting there, though. Thanks to you guys.” Because my friends have come together for me in a big way over the last two weeks. Not only have they all kept their mouths shut about who Itsy really is, they listened when I cried and second-guessed. They plotted new living arrangements for me and even helped me study, though my chemistry grade is looking like a lost cause. Nursing school might not be in the cards for me. I’m sadder about not having a prospective solid income than I am about not getting to be a nurse. That was my mom’s dream, anyway. The part that appealed to me was the paycheck and maybe the respect. Not many people are impressed when they find out you’re a receptionist, even if you’re the best receptionist a business could want.
“I don’t want to rush you,” Abbi says, “but if you wanted to tell him, there’s no one in the office across from Brinley’s, and I left it unlocked.”
I close my eyes. “I kind of don’t want to ruin the day, but there’s another part of me that knows I should tell him while I’m feeling at peace about everything.”
She takes my hand and squeezes. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s being an idiot and he should throw himself at your feet and offer you the world.”
I scoff and shake my head. “You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew the whole story.”
She gives my hand another squeeze. “I knew Reggie back in the day, and he liked to run his mouth,” she says, referring to my college boyfriend.
“God.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Does everyone know?”
“Personally, I never believed his stories. I thought he was just full of it and trying to look like a badass,” she says. When I open my eyes, she’s frowning at me. “What he did wasn’t just wrong, it was illegal. None of this is your fault.”
I swallow hard. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“I emailed you some links to sites that explain your rights and the contact info to a lawyer friend. That is, if you want to do something about it. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”
“I appreciate that, Abbi, but I can’t afford—”
“She’ll do it pro bono. She has experience with this, so helping women like you is a passion project for her.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m so grateful and overwhelmed, and after years of feeling like my best option was to hide, it’s hard to wrap my head around an alternative. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“Of course. This is what friends are for.” She cocks her head to the side. “If those videos really are a deal breaker for Kace, he doesn’t deserve you.”
I bite my bottom lip and nudge her shoulder with mine. “You’re going to make me cry.” I’d expect those words from Savvy or Brinley, but Abbi and I aren’t as close, and considering how protective she is of her brother . . . “That means a lot.”
“Then again,” she says, smirking, “in order to find out, you’ll still have to tell him the truth.”
So true. “Maybe another glass of champagne first.”
Kace
Stella is stunning. I know I’m supposed to be giving all my attention to the bride an
d groom, but how can I when the woman who has my heart is in the room dressed in a slinky bridesmaid’s dress and laughing with all our friends? I’ve wanted to ask her to dance about a dozen times, but stopped myself.
She catches my eye and smiles at me, which is unexpected, but not as unexpected as her nodding to the door then walking inside The Orchid, casting a glance over her shoulder like she expects me to follow.
I wait a minute to make sure no one’s watching. If she’s finally going to talk to me, I don’t want our friends interrupting.
Once in the building, I’m not sure where to go. There are dozens of rooms and offices in here. Voices are coming from the kitchen, and I follow them to find my sister and Dean standing nose to nose, faces red like they’re arguing. I open my mouth to ask them if they’ve seen Stella when Abbi smacks both hands against Dean’s chest.
“How could you?” She’s crying, so I take a step forward. “You’re risking the best friend you’ve ever had, and why?”
I stop, dread curdling my stomach.
“I know,” Dean growls. “I fucking know, okay, but I love her. It’s not just sex. We have a connection, and I think she could love me too if she’d take me back.”
“Amy will chew you up and spit you out, and all you’ll have to show for it is a ruined friendship. Is she worth that?”
What. The. Fuck?
“This isn’t your business,” he growls. “I’ll tell Kace eventually, but—”
“No need.” My voice is a croak.
Dean spins around. “Kace.” He pales and his jaw works, but he can’t seem to find any words. “Just let me explain.”
I try to swallow. It feels like there’s something lodged in my throat. “You want to explain why you’re talking about loving my ex-wife?” I shake my head, backing up. “Nah. I’ll pass.” Then I realize Stella’s walked in the kitchen at some point, and she’s looking back and forth between me and Dean. “Did you know about this too?” I ask her.
She nods. “I’m sorry.” She runs from the room.
“Kace,” Abbi says, suddenly at my side and gripping my arm. “You’re okay, right? You’ve moved on. I know you have. You have better things ahead of you.”
I shrug her off, turn on my heel, and get the fuck out of that kitchen. I stop dead in the middle of the hall. I don’t want to head back to the party—back to the friends who’ll see the shock on my face and want me to explain. I turn to head to the front of the building and step into the darkened reception area. A single light glows down the hall, and I follow it like a beacon.
Stella’s standing in an empty office, staring out the windows. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about Dean and Amy,” she says without turning around.
I close the door before crossing the room. She’ll send me away any second, but I can’t stand this distance between us. My chest aches with how much I miss her.
“I know you want your wife back, and—”
I usually overthink, but not this time. This time, I pull her into my arms and kiss her hard. She gasps against my mouth, and I half expect her to push me away, but she pulls me close instead—hands fisted into my shirt, mouth opening under mine. She tastes like champagne and smells so sweet, and I’d stay in this room all night, all week, all fucking month if it meant she wouldn’t leave my arms.
“I don’t,” I say when she pulls back. “I don’t want Amy back, and I don’t care who she sleeps with.” I blow out a breath, the adrenaline tapering off. “I care that Dean kept it from me.”
“Oh,” she says. “Well, you should talk to him, because he’s a mess.”
I slide my hands down her back. “I’m talking to you right now.”
“Kace . . .”
I take a deep breath. “Why don’t I get a chance? Because of what Itsy told you? I was never saying you had no substance. She misunderstood me. I was saying I thought our relationship was superficial, and I was an idiot for ever thinking that, but you need to give me a break here. Our plan at the beginning was for this to just be a physical fling.”
“I know,” she whispers, bowing her head. “I can’t blame you for the way you feel.”
“But I don’t feel that way anymore.” I tip her chin up with two fingers so she can look me in the eye when I explain. “There’s nothing superficial about how I feel about you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say so sooner. I’m a coward, okay? I was scared to try for more. But now I just want a fucking chance to prove we can be good together—to prove how much substance we have. Please.”
Her lips part and she stares at me, and I can’t help it. I swoop in and steal another kiss. Then more. On her mouth, her jaw, her neck.
“You look so beautiful today. I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole ceremony.”
“I know.” Her hands roam across my back, over my shoulders and chest. She nips at my lips and gasps into my mouth. “I like it when you look at me. I’m so weak for it.”
“Nothing about you is weak.” I yank up her skirt and stroke her thigh, working my way around to the thin band of her panties at the top of her hip. I follow that silky scrap of fabric down between her legs and stroke her there. She bites back a cry. “I’m the one who’s weak for you, and I’m sick of trying so hard to resist it. Let me touch you. Let me feel this.” I slip two fingers into her panties, and she gasps at my first pass over her clit. “Shh. Later, you can scream as loud as you need to, and I’ll fucking relish every sound you make, but right now I need you to be quiet.”
“Kace.” Her hands are shaking as she unbuckles my belt, unzips my pants. “Just tonight, okay? I need you.”
Just tonight? Fuck that. I want more than tonight, and I’m going to make her see she does too. I tease her again and again until she’s trembling in my arms and I feel her orgasm building. “You’re so slick. I can’t stop thinking about how this would feel on my cock.” I drive two fingers into her as I press my mouth to hers, muffling her needy whimper. Slowly, I drag in and out and watch her face—her heavy-lidded eyes, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I want to spin you around and fuck you against this window.” I withdraw, softening my touch as I circle her clit—once, twice, three times—before plunging my fingers inside her again.
“Please.”
I don’t know if she’s asking me to fuck her or let her come, but then my dick’s in her hand and she’s stroking me, and I can’t think about anything but getting closer. Closer to her slick heat, closer to her soft whimpers, closer to the woman who stole my heart and then ran away. “You have no idea how much I want you. How much I’ve missed you,” I say, jacking up into her hand as I continue to tease her slick sex.
I spin her around and yank her hips back to tilt her toward me. She writhes and rubs her sex against my dick until the tip notches inside her.
She jerks away, her dress falling back down, then stumbles backward. “I’m sorry,” she says. She closes her eyes, and tears roll down her cheeks. “We can’t.”
Shit, shit, shit. “Stella, please.”
“You don’t want me, Kace. You’ll realize that soon enough.” Then she opens the door and runs away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kace
I’m working on my laptop at the kitchen table when the front door opens with a crash, and Hope announces, “We’re home!”
I close my laptop and stand just in time for my daughter to run at me and wrap me in a hug. I stoop down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“She was up at four a.m. asking to watch Elsa and Anna,” Amy says, appearing from the hall. “So be warned—she might be cranky tonight.”
“I can handle it.” I turn my attention to Hope. “Hey, Snickerdoodle. Did you have a good night with your mom?”
“The best. I got new ’Merican Girl dolls.” Her eyes go wide. “Two of them.”
I arch a brow at this and look to Amy, but she shrugs. “They’re her birthday presents from me, Kace. Relax. They just took longer to get here than I expected.”
“Can I go p
lay with my dolls?” Hope asks, bouncing.
I nod. “Only for a few minutes while I talk to Mommy, then I want you to help me clean your room.”
She runs off before I can even finish talking, and I laugh. I’m sure she didn’t hear what I said about her room and probably doesn’t want to.
“She loves those dolls,” Amy says, but when I turn to her, her mouth is pulled tight in a grimace as she stares out at the backyard.
“Are you okay?” I cock my head to the side, studying the anguish contorting her features. “Ames?”
“I heard Stella moved out.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. She found another place.”
When Amy looks up at me, tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m afraid I made a mistake.”
“About what? Dean? Because you did.” My jaw is tense, and it’s almost funny. I’m angrier with her for leading Dean on than I am with Dean for sleeping with my ex-wife. “That was a ridiculously bad move on your part.”
“I know, but that’s not the mistake I’m talking about.”
“Then what?”
“Us.” She swallows, and the next thing I know, her arms wrap around me and she’s pressing her lips to mine. Call it hope or habit, but I kiss her back, and when her tongue touches my lips, I meet it with my own. This is my wife. I’m kissing my wife. But no matter how many times I say the words to myself, they still feel wrong.
She’s not my wife. She’s my ex. Finally, my brain’s caught up.
I push her back, gently but firmly.
“Sorry,” she says, bowing her head.
“That’s not who we are anymore.” That hasn’t been who we are for a long-ass time. And Christ, why did it take me so long to figure that out?
She looks up. “It could be. Maybe it should be.” When she steps close again, I back away, and she wraps her arms around her middle. “I know I have no right to ask, Kace. I know. I thought I wanted more freedom, but I miss the routine of our lives. I miss knowing that if things fall apart, I won’t have to fix them alone. I miss having someone there to remind me to lock the front door and someone who’ll fix the shower when it leaks. I miss knowing that if I’m at a loss for how to respond to Hope’s obstinance, someone’s there to lead the way.”