“I haven’t said yes. You want me? You’ll have to catch me first,” I hop off the stool and wave for the bartender. “Settle the tab first will ya’?” I chuckle at the bemused expression on his face as I turn and hurry away.
When I exit the restaurant, I glance over my shoulder to see where he is. He’s further away than I thought, but he’s following me. His eyes alight with a determined glint that thrills me.
I hurry across the lobby and head down a hallway that ends with a bank of elevators.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’ll find on the floors above the lobby and its bar, but I don’t care as long as I can get him alone.
I wait until I hear his footfalls behind me before I press the button to call the lift.
The doors open immediately, and I step inside.
“Hold that door,” he calls and starts to jog.
“You’ll have to be faster than that,” I say teasingly when the doors start to close.
He breaks into a sprint, and just when I’m sure he’s not going to make it. His fingers slip in between the two doors just before they slam shut. They bounce open instantly and he steps inside.
“Regan,” he says my name like it’s a promise he’s making as he reaches up and presses a button that stops the elevator from its ascent.
“Hi, Stone.”
He slips a hand around my waist and turns me so I’m facing him, too.
My hands have a mind of their own, because despite every last shred of good sense I have screaming for me to stop, they slide up his muscular shoulders and drape themselves around his neck.
Everything about this man, this attraction, and the reckless behavior it’s spawned - is a bad idea.
But my fingers dance up his collar and twirl in his hair. It’s so soft. I wonder what it smells like.
He walks us backward until I’m pressed against the mirrored glass of the elevator and he lifts me by the waist and sets my ass on the narrow handrail.
His hands rest on either side of my head and he spears me in place with his eyes. “I wasn’t chasing you…this was a lure. You’re an excellent hunter.”
I nod in agreement.
He drops his head and presses his nose to my throat. “Can I kiss you right here?” he asks. I don’t understand the tears that prick sting the back of my eyes at his question. But it makes me want to give him whatever he asks for.
At my nod, he presses a feather light kiss to my throat.
I arch my neck, pressing closer, my head spinning already.
The sharp edge of his teeth scrapes along my jawline. He nips my chin before he kisses and sucks his way back down my neck.
I’m balanced precariously on my perch with Stone pressed between my thighs, devouring me like I’m his to consume.
His touch is driving me wild.
The loud buzzing is like a needle scratching a record. We jump apart, both wide eyed and panting.
“Hello, this is security. We’re getting you out,” a loud voice comes over the loudspeaker. It sounds vaguely familiar and it sends my panic into overdrive.
“Oh my God, this is a disaster,” I cry and start wiping my mouth and fixing my hair and straightening my clothes.
“It’s just security.” I snap a glance at him in the mirror and see the irritation in his voice furrowing his brow.
“I think I know that voice, “I whisper urgently, cursing my stupidity and swearing to be good if I get out of this.
“So? We’re in an elevator both fully clothed, it’s hardly suspicious,” he says, and his calm voice annoys me. The elevator whines and my heart hammers against my breastbone.
“Let’s just get off like we’re strangers, you go first, and I’ll call you when I get to my room, okay?” I mutter and then put my game face on.
The man on the other side isn’t anyone I've ever seen before and the rush of relief I feel almost makes me nauseous.
Stone thanks the man for his help, bids me a civil good evening and strolls away. I walk with the maintenance man back to the lobby and make small talk until we part ways at the huge fountain that sits at the center of it.
I walk on trembling legs to the nearest bench and sit. The fear I’d felt in that elevator, when I thought I knew that voice had been unreal. What would I have done if it had been someone I know?
I’ve held on to my marriage by Faustian bargain. Marcel has broken faith with me more times than I can count, and I don’t owe him my fidelity or discretion.
But there are more than just our reputations at stake.
Buried somewhere in our prenup there are all sorts of morality clauses tied to alimony and more importantly, custody.
Charlie was right, what we have isn’t a marriage. We’ll never be intimate again. But, Marcel has made it clear that leaving him would be nothing short of a battle. If I’m going to do it, I don’t need to give him any ammunition.
Cursing my choices and my husband, I start for my room. I was lucky just now, but this is a popular and public place. I was crazy to think I could have an affair with him here. I’m not going to call Stone when I get back to my room. And since I have no idea when he’s leaving, I’ll be spending the rest of my time there. It sucks, but I always eat my vegetables. Even when they’re covered in shit.
Last night will have to be enough.
My stomach tightens and disappointment lodges in my throat.
Discipline, Regan.
I am the most disciplined person I know. I don’t say that as a point of pride but as a matter of fact. It’s what has pulled me back up every time life has forced me to my knees.
It’s my superpower.
And that makes Stone Rivers… what? My kryptonite? Because the minute I breathe the same air as him, I find myself confronting bullies, breaking decades of family code, fornicating in public, and shattering rules that I have never even been tempted to bend.
He knows where my room is, but certainly he can’t come in unless I open that door.
And tomorrow, I’ll request a room change.
And I won’t leave my room until it’s time for me to go home early next week. I have my books, my laptop, my phone and a killer view. I could go home early, but...I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to be alone like this again.
The steady stream of room service will be a boon for the staff - they’ll get tips each time they bring me something – so that’s a silver lining.
God only knows what kinds of germs I’m avoiding by not using any of the six pools on site. I have a hot tub on my balcony, and that’s going to be amazing.
By the time I’m stepping off the elevator, my resolve is firm and I’m feeling like maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Until I see Matty sitting on the floor outside my room.
Chapter 16
Breaking
Regan
“Hey,” I call as I approach.
Matty looks up and gives me an awkward smile. “You’re alone?” She lifts up to standing in front of my door and crosses her arms tightly over her chest as if she’s warding off the cold. She smiles, but the tense set of her jaw puts me on edge.
I mimic her stance and don’t return her smile. “Yeah, we had to go our separate ways”
“So…are you going to see him again?” she asks, and I get the distinct impression she’s stalling.
“Probably not. It was reckless. What’s up?” I add to preempt any more beating around the bush.
She purses her lips and clears her throat. “I just wanted to say bye. It was nice to see you.”
I nod my head slowly, my expression one of exaggerated expectancy, as I wait for her to say whatever she’s clearly holding back.
When she just looks up and down the corridor, and doesn’t say anything else, my discomfort grows.
“Well, my number hasn’t changed. If you’re ever in Houston, let me know.” I pull my keycard out of my pocket.
“Wait, uh- do you still have the bakery?”
I quirk my eyebrow in be
musement at her out-of-left-field question, “It’s still there, but we sold it to a new owner.”
“We? Are you back at Wilde?” Her expression is neutral, but her cryptic question feels far from benign and I’m beyond ready for her to get to the point.
“No. Nope. My grandfather’s banishment stuck.”
She relaxes her shoulders a little and her jaw loosens, as if she’s relieved to hear that. “So, what do you do, now?”
“I raise my children and raise money for causes I believe in.”
“You don’t work at all??”
I tense. Years of Mommy wars and my own dissatisfaction with the state of my life put me on the defensive.
“Marcel thinks it’s a negative reflection on him as a provider if his wife works to earn wages.” I mimic my husband’s French treatment of the word wages, imbuing it with all of the disdain that he does.
Matty raises an eyebrow in surprise, “And you don’t mind that? The Regan I knew-
“Is gone,” I make light of my heavy predicament and force a resigned smile.
“That’s too bad. I…” Matty’s gaze falls away, almost shyly. “I miss her.”
A spark of hope kindles in my chest. “But, maybe we could…I don’t know... get to know each other again?”
Her dark, inscrutable gaze snaps to my face. She scans it with a grim frown thinning her lips. “Do you believe Rebecca?”
I blink, her sharply delivered question like water flung in my eyes.
Her dark eyes flicker with disappointment before they shutter again and my hackles rise. I straighten my posture and cross my shoulders. “You couldn’t leave with us in a good place. You had to pick a fight.”
She throws her head back in a humorless cackle. “I wish one weekend and a few conversations was all it took for us to be in a good place.” She fills the words with scorn and her lip curls. “I’m not surprised you think so, though. You’ve been keeping up appearances so long, you’ve forgot what real relationships look like.”
My patience, already brittle, starts to splinter and crack. I cross my arms over my chest and uncross them quickly. I’m not the one who should be on the defensive. “And you do? Who are your friends? Who’s waiting for you when you get home?” I spit.
The flash of sadness that crosses her face makes me wish I could take my words back. But Matty recovers her sadness and gives as good as she gets.
“At least I didn’t sell myself for the sake of a man who hung you out to dry.”
I gasp in affront., “My grandfather did not—”
She leans in. her chin jutting upward. Her eyes blaze with anger has me taking a step back. “He Hung. You. Out. To. Dry. Just like you did us. For something that wasn’t our fault.”
“It was entirely. Your. Fault. You’re lucky you didn’t go to jail. My grandfather did his best for you.” I stab a finger in her face.
She shoves it away and leans in, so we’re almost nose to nose. “He did his best for his granddaughter and himself. And you can’t see that he was involved because you were so enamored with him.” she says in a voice deepened by anger.
I’m shocked by the way this escalated. I just want to get into bed. I dig deep to find enough restraint to be the bigger person.
“Listen, we’re obviously never going to agree on this.”
She steps away from me, her lips turning down in disgust. “Oh, one day, you’ll find the courage to look at your family and yourself honestly. Then we’ll agree. But until you prove yourself better than the men who hurt us, I don’t think we have anything left to say.”
This is it. After that awful fight we had last time we saw each other, I’ve still thought of Matty as my friend. But it’s clear that was a hopeful delusion. It hurts to see that so clearly. There’s nothing of the heartbreak I’m feeling in Matty’s expression now. In fact, her eyes are completely unreadable.
I can’t hide mine and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she’s hurt me.
“Good luck, Matty. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a safe trip home.” Then, for the second time, I turn away from the sister my heart chose. This time, I don’t look back.
I walk into my suite and shut the door behind me. I press my back to it, draw in huge a lungful of air. I press my hands to my heated cheeks and pull them away in surprise.
I stare at the moisture on my fingers in confusion for a few minutes before I realize there’s more running down my face.
I haven’t cried since the night I found out my husband had made a mockery of my entire existence. Before that was five years prior when my grandfather died.
Nothing had ever hurt as much as those things had, not before or since. But to hear myself cast like that and to know that there were some truths laced in with the ugly accusations she made. My eyes fall on the small box that we brought Jack’s ashes in. Oh my God, my best friend is dead and the other one might as well be.
My emotions, so long pushed down, ignored, smothered swirl inside of me like a thousand tornadoes looking for a way out. They are tearing me up inside, but I don’t know how to free them.
The door to my suite opens and I spin around, wide eyed with fear that Marcel is here.
“Hey, I used my key…” Stone trails off in mid-sentence when he sees me. “What happened?” He glances over her shoulder and then moves into the suite, his eyes scanning the room.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. So, I reach out and in the space of two breaths, his warm hand is gripping mine.
“I’ve got you.” He wraps a strong arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. I nestle into the warm, clean smelling sanctuary of his chest and cling to him
“It’s okay. Let it all out, and when you’re done, I’ll be here. You won’t have to do it alone,” Those words are an echo in time. So is the absolute comfort I feel letting my guard down with him.
I’ve never felt delicate—not once in my whole life—until this man made me his lover. He’s strong enough for both of us. So safe in the harbor of his arms, I let the storm raging inside of me loose.
Chapter 17
Come With Me
Stone
Regan isn’t crying. She is grieving. Her sobs are laments punctuated by hiccups, and sniffles. Her fingers clutch the front of my shirt. Her hot tears soak through the cotton, and she trembles like she’s freezing.
The sixteen year old boy I’d been when she got married hoped she’d be miserable. But the man I am today hates to think that she has been. I’m glad I took the gamble and came up when I did.
I’ve never seen anyone pale as fast as she did when she heard that voice on the elevator speakers. She looked like her life had flashed in front of her eyes. She said she’d call me, but I knew she wouldn’t.
If I was going to see her again, I’d have to make it happen. I went to the bar to weigh my options.
I’d be off on my road trip in the morning and would likely not see her again. But… she was so ready on the elevator. I could smell it on her. She wants me as much as I want her.
When I went to settle my tab, I found her keycard in my wallet. It felt like a sign.
I passed her friend in the hallway and the wrathful expression on her tear streaked face gave me pause. If Regan was as angry as her friend looked, then this would likely be a short visit.
I opened the door slowly, expecting to find her in a lather. Instead, she stood in the middle of the room, her eyes full of regret, her trembling mouth moving wordlessly. She looked like someone dropped a bomb on her.
I carried her to the couch and we’ve been sitting like this, with her in my lap crying like someone died.
When her sobs subside to soft sniffles. I run a light hand down her back and brave a question.“What happened?”
She sighs wearily, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders, “Matty and I had a fight. Nothing new,”
“Are you on vacation together?” I picked up on a touch of tension between them on the shuttle.
/> “We were here to spread our friend’s ashes. We used to be close, and then…well, life happened, and we lost touch. But I hoped… it’s not going to happen. And I’m sad. And tired.”
She groans and sags against my chest. She gasps and leans away her wide eyes on my shirt.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, I’m sorry. I’ve cried all over you. I’m…” With another groan, she jumps off my lap.
“No, hey, it’s okay.” I stand, but she mumbles stilted “excuse me,” and rushes to the bathroom, and shuts the door with a slam.
I miss the warm weight of her in my lap, but I’m also glad for the chance to clear my head.
There’s a reason our paths are crossing now. She’s in need of someone; Like I was the night she found me in that bakery. The words she whispered that first day come back to me. “I water you, you water me.”
A light comes on and excitement gets my brain back online. I can’t do anything to bring her friend back or to mend her relationship with Matty.
But I can give her something happy to take back from this trip. I’ll have to make a few changes to some of my plans and it will mean I’ll have to forgo my annual howl at the moon.
But, if she’s game, this might be even better than that. Having another shot with the girl who hung the moon was a pipe dream. Having the chance to do something to pay her back, something more than just fuck her senseless, is a moonshot. I can’t pass up the chance to at least try.
The bathroom door opens and she strides out. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Her voice is cordial but her smile is tight with discomfort, and she doesn’t meet my eye.
She cuts a brisk path to the mini bar. Her rigid back to me, she busies herself pouring drinks, but doesn’t say a word.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says and turns to face me. Her eyes are clear and dry and the dark flush of emotion is gone, she looks like nothing happened. But her hand wobbles when she lifts one of the glasses she’s holding to her lips and down the entire thing in one sip.
The Rivals Page 78