“He said people know the Borello name. That being in the spotlight with me is dangerous.”
Libby opened her mouth, frustration darkening her features. Panic suddenly flashed through her eyes, stopping whatever she was about to say as her face drained of color. After a second, she bit down on her lip and looked away.
“He’s right, in a way,” she whispered after a moment. “People know the name. But if we can stop them from digging into my past—if your publicists and Einstein watch stories that are printed—”
“Or just me,” Einstein said.
“If Einstein watches stories,” Libby conceded with a roll of her eyes. “She can make sure my last name never gets out.”
“Your last name will be mine,” I reminded her.
She looked at me again, a hint of a smile on her lips as she scooted over to curl into my side. “I meant Borello.” She traced the tips of her fingers over my lips, her stare drifting to the floor. “Considering if anything’s ever printed about me, it’ll say Libby James and not Elizabeth Borello, I don’t think the spotlight is something we need to worry about.”
It was as if she touched me with a live wire the second she said that name.
That goddamn name I’d waited a lifetime to hear from her lips.
I felt hyperaware of every breath she took. Everywhere she touched me. Every second that separated us from making that name a reality . . . and we didn’t even have a day in mind.
“Say that again.”
Her dark eyes flashed to mine and widened. “What?”
“Say your name.”
“Elizabeth Borello.” The name left her lips on a shaky breath, like she was suddenly aware of the name she was uttering—afraid of its weight.
“No.” I swallowed, the action much more difficult than ever before. “No. The other one.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips that were now slowly spreading into a smile. “Libby James.”
I crushed my mouth to hers, weaving my hand into her hair to deepen the kiss until Einstein loudly cleared her throat.
“Still here. Still feeling like a third wheel. Not that anyone cares.”
A rumble sounded deep in my chest, but I only backed away enough to ask, “If we do your version of a wedding, when can it happen?”
“Tonight,” she whispered, her breath washing across my lips before she was trying to kiss me again.
My face fell and I leaned farther away to search her excited stare. “Don’t tease me, Rebel.”
“I’m not. These things have to happen immediately sometimes. But I’d like to have my nails done first.”
I wanted to laugh—it was such a Libby thing to say. But there was nothing amusing anymore. Something about this felt wrong. Not marrying Libby . . . but marrying her this way.
“You have work . . .”
“Zeke will understand,” she said flippantly.
“ . . . and I want to give you a wedding, Libby.”
“I don’t want one.”
I knew Libby.
Just like I knew she wouldn’t have wanted the grand, romantic proposal. Just like I knew when she needed to hide away from the world. I knew she would regret not having this day be something more than a hidden ceremony.
I glanced at Einstein, but she was tapping furiously at her phone, pretending to be invisible.
Lowering my voice, I asked, “You can honestly tell me you don’t want a day you can plan? A day that’s all about you? A day you’ll look back and remember how amazing it was?”
“I want it to be you and me together at the end of the day. That’s all that matters—that’s all that will matter.” Her voice took on a frantic tone, and that panic from earlier was back in her eyes. “Not a big wedding. I’ll have a life to look back on with you . . . and that’s enough.”
I’d never felt more confused.
“I don’t—Libby,” I called when she stood from the couch and headed toward her bedroom.
She turned and held out her arms in frustration. “If you thought there was going to be an actual wedding at some point in our lives, then I’m sorry to disappoint you, Maxon. It’s not happening.”
I sat there in shock, rooted to the couch, staring in the direction she’d left. “What the fuck just happened?”
“What I was waiting for,” Einstein mumbled.
I slowly dragged my stare to her. “You knew that would happen?” When she made a sound of affirmation, I asked, “Care to explain? Because I know she’ll regret this one day.”
“Oh, no . . . she will.” Einstein dropped her phone onto her lap, then gave me a sympathetic look. “I told you, I’ve rooted for you from the beginning. You’re what’s best for her. You know her better than anyone—I mean, other than me. Of course. And you don’t want to give her what you think she should have. You want to give her what you know she wants.”
I dropped my head into my hands and gripped my hair. I was too thrown by the drastic change in conversation to understand where Einstein was going with this.
“I don’t . . . I don’t think I follow you.”
“I’ll dumb it down,” she said with a sigh. “You’re right. Libby wants the whole thing. Gorgeous wedding and dress and cake and flowers and blah, blah, blah. But she’ll never go for it.”
I dropped my hands and twisted my neck to look at her again. “Why? Because she’s afraid of something bad happening? Of people attacking, or whatever the hell happens in your world?”
Einstein snorted. “No—” Her brows pinched suddenly. For a long time, she sat there thinking. “Huh. Maybe. But even if she is, that’s not the main reason. Unfortunately for you, I can’t tell you the main reason.”
My gaze drifted to the hall again. “Let me guess . . . Libby won’t tell me either.”
“Who knows? Now that you know so much about our lives, she might. But it’s not really something she likes to think about, so I doubt it.”
I nodded as my mind raced, trying to figure out what could keep Libby from wanting a wedding.
“Hey, rock star.”
I looked to Einstein, wondering how long she’d been trying to get my attention.
“You know marriage was something she blatantly ran from before. You don’t know she always wanted it. Openly admitting what she wanted was huge for her, and then it was a rough time around here. She thought she’d lost you. She thought she’d lost the only guy she wanted to spend her life with.”
A mixture of pain and frustration unfurled in my chest at the reminder of my first night back, but I pushed it away.
So much could’ve been ruined—so much had—but we fixed it.
“If Libby is ever going to marry someone, it’s going to be you,” she continued. “It doesn’t matter what she wants, or what you know she wants. She’s only going to marry you in a mob-style wedding.”
“Einstein . . .” I blew out a rough breath.
“Like she said, at the end of the day, it’s you and her together. At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.” She picked up her phone and started tapping on it, letting me know she was done.
For half a second, I thought if I held off marrying the girl I’d waited for, I could find a way to change her mind.
And then I remembered this was Libby . . .
She’d figure me out and do things her way.
With an amused huff, I stood from the couch and headed toward her room.
I found her sitting on the bed, playing with the edge of the comforter. “I’m sorry,” she whispered when I sat next to her. “I just . . .” She shrugged but didn’t continue.
“Next Saturday,” I said, the words barely escaping my strained throat. Like even my muscles knew this wasn’t right and tried to protest. “Gives me time to do some things for you and gives you time to tell anyone you want there. The guys and Nate are all here, so it won’t be hard to get them in the same place.”
Her eyes were wide and smile unrestrained when she looked at me. “Really?” When I nodded,
she said, “Einstein probably heard you and is already telling Dare, Lily, and the twins. They’ll be there no matter when or where.”
“What about your mom?”
She laughed harshly and shot me a look like she didn’t know why I even mentioned her. “What about her?”
I watched her for a few seconds, not understanding where the sudden hostility came from. “You don’t want her there?”
“No. I don’t think she would come even if I told her.”
I stared at her with open confusion. Waiting.
When she realized I wasn’t going to drop it, she sighed and dropped her stare to the comforter. “Let’s just say she has other ideas about who I should marry.”
My eyebrows rose and tone dropped. “Is that right? Who?” Libby was silent and still for so long, I finally nudged her. “Who, Libby?”
She blinked and cleared her throat, then lifted her head to give me a ghost of a smile. “Not important.”
“Right . . . but you think your mom wouldn’t want to see you get married because of him?”
“We don’t get along, Maxon. You know this,” she said on a groan. “We’ve fought for . . . God, as long as I can remember.”
“Yeah. Not that I would know, but I thought it was something that kids and parents do.” I gestured to her. “Shit, Libby, you told me it was because the two of you were too alike.”
She shrugged helplessly. “Well, that might be true. I wouldn’t know. We don’t talk much because we’re usually fighting about the fact that she doesn’t like you.”
I stared at her for a few seconds before a stunned huff left me.
“I didn’t—I just meant she never wanted us together. Wait, no . . . it keeps coming out wrong.” She started to reach for me, then stopped and ran her hands over her face instead. “Jesus.”
A strangled laugh slid up my throat and died on my tongue when I stood from the bed.
“Where are you going?” she asked, panic coating her words when I walked hesitantly away.
It wasn’t until I was at the door that I stopped. I gripped the frame in my hand and turned, jaw clenched and stare on the floor.
“When you said you wanted to settle down, I didn’t think past this is the moment I’ve waited for . . .”
It had always been Libby and me, and I’d known it would be us forever.
But for the first time in my life, I wondered why I’d been her safe place.
Why she’d been with me.
Why she wanted to marry me.
For the first time, I was questioning everything that was us . . . and it was on the day I’d given her a ring.
“But now I’m forced to think past that,” I whispered, then finally looked up at her. “You never wanted to get married or settle down until you thought I was settling down with someone else.”
“No. No, no, no, that’s not true.”
“And I just realized that not only does your family not want you with me, but your mom wants you to marry someone else.” I forced a pained smile. “And you’ve always done what everyone told you not to, Libby.”
“No.” Horror dripped from her tone, amplifying the panic in her voice when she yelled, “Maxon, no.”
But I was already down the hall.
I could feel Einstein’s stare as I snatched Libby’s keys off the hook near the door, but I didn’t turn. Didn’t look as I walked out. But it was impossible to ignore the way Libby’s voice cracked and twisted around my name as she begged me to wait.
Begged me not to leave.
Exactly what I’d silently promised her I wouldn’t do not even an hour before.
She was there, grabbing my arm as her sob ripped through the morning air. “Maxon, please.”
I whirled on her, conflicting needs and emotions tearing through me seeing her there, standing in nothing but my Henley shirt and the ring I’d just put on her finger, tears streaming down her cheeks.
My blood pounded with heat but my heart ached at the thoughts flying through my mind.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her. I wanted to take her back into her room and show her what she meant to me.
I wanted her to tell me why she loved me.
“It’s always been you for me,” I said, my voice rough. “That’s it, Libby. Nothing else. No one else.”
Another sob tore through her.
“You kept me close but made sure to keep me far enough away to know I could never catch you. And I got it, I did. Because I knew you. And I know I left . . . I fucking know, Libby. But don’t act like I didn’t ask you to go with me every damn time. Like I didn’t beg you.”
Her head dropped as she nodded, her shoulders shaking.
“You said you wouldn’t be waiting. You wanted to see other people. Like I said in the song, I knew I had to let you go. Every goddamn thing I’ve ever done has been for you. To give you what you needed. And I did it gladly because I love you. But for the first time, I feel like the biggest fucking idiot.”
“What?” Her face fell into a look of horror when I shrugged her off me. “Max—”
“I feel like I’ve been played so damn perfectly by you. I’ve been the guy in love with you, giving you everything. Space when you needed it. Attention when you wanted it. All while unknowingly helping you piss off your family. And I’ve been so blinded by you that I didn’t realize what you were doing until now.”
“No. No, Maxon, no.” When I turned toward the parking lot, she said, “I’ll do the big wedding if that’s what you want, just please don’t leave.”
I made a noise between a laugh and a sneer when I turned on her again. “Are you serious? I don’t want a big wedding, Libby. I want you to be mine. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be mine. Fuck, don’t you get that?”
I didn’t make it two steps away before she cried out my name.
I stalked toward her, grabbed her, and walked her back until I had her pressed against the building. “I’ve poured out my goddamn heart to you in every song, Libby. I’ve never hidden anything from you. I’ve loved you and worshipped you and been so damn transparent every step of the way.” I rested my forehead on hers and lowered my voice, but couldn’t hide my dread when I asked, “Can you even tell me why you want to get married? Why you love me?”
Her only response was a strangled cry.
Agony pulsed through me, making it hard to breathe.
I pushed away from the wall and her, a growl wrenching from my throat.
I sank into her car and tore out of the parking lot. Feeling her sobs like knives to my chest the entire time I drove.
Libby
I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG I’d been outside.
But Dare was suddenly there, pulling me into his arms and murmuring things I couldn’t understand as he led me to my apartment.
Once we were inside, I looked around as Dare sat me on the couch, confused to see the twins, Lily, and my six-month-old nephew.
“What are you—”
“What the fuck did he do now?” Dare asked, his tone rough and full of frustration.
“Ah-ah,” Einstein cut in from where she sat on the kitchen island.
I hadn’t even noticed her.
“Did you call everyone?”
She gave me a dull look. “Duh.”
“Someone tell me what happened,” Dare demanded.
“I can’t,” Einstein said simply as she lifted her phone. “I only heard bits and pieces. But I will say I think your anger might be directed at the wrong person.”
Dare’s gaze shot around the room before landing on me. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “What happened? Einstein sent out a group message that you and Maxon were getting married next weekend, and three minutes later said, ‘Never mind. Wedding’s off. Come fast.’”
My head whipped around to face her again, my eyes filling with tears. “It’s off?”
“Isn’t it?” she challenged without looking at me.
“I don’t . . . I don’t know. It can’t be. We
just . . .” A sob broke through and I crumpled where I sat.
The truth was, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know where Maxon and I stood.
I didn’t know what he wanted—or didn’t want anymore.
But how could that be it? One half-finished conversation and he was done?
When I calmed, Dare quietly asked, “What happened?”
I recounted the day and my conversations with Maxon as best I could, leaving out the bathroom sex. When I finished, only Dare and Lily were listening.
Maverick and Einstein were having a quiet argument in the hall.
Diggs was raiding the pantry again.
The baby was crawling around the floor.
And I wanted to sink into the couch and die from the looks my brother and sister-in-law were giving me.
“What?” I finally asked when neither said anything.
Lily cleared her throat after a few seconds. “You had my back when you didn’t know me during a situation you knew nothing about. So . . . we’ll just say this is me returning the favor.”
“That’s cheating,” Dare said roughly.
She shrugged unapologetically.
Dare ran his hands through his hair and over his face, groaning as he did. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this. But I agree with Maxon.” He shot me a look. “Why wouldn’t he wonder any of the shit he is? I don’t know why he didn’t ask if you’re actually in love with him.”
Lily smacked his stomach. “Dare.”
“What? He has a valid reason for looking at their relationship the way he is. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s thinking it. Even more now that Libby didn’t answer him.”
“I couldn’t. I was so shocked that it was even happening—that he would even ask me why I loved him—that I couldn’t do anything but stand there.” My stomach clenched and chin wavered. “But none of what he thought I did was true. I never once played him.”
“I know,” he said gently.
“I don’t understand why you told him you didn’t want a real wedding,” Lily said. “You gave us so much crap for getting married the way we did.”
“Yeah. And the shit about Mom?” Dare shot me a look of confusion and annoyance. A look I mirrored.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked on a laugh. “I know why Lily wouldn’t understand . . . but you’re asking me?”
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