Reverse (Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

SIXTEEN “Come Undone”

SIXTEEN

“Come Undone”

Carina Round

Natalie

I t’s close to midnight as a silent, brooding Easton walks next to me along a short pier a few blocks from my hotel. Dots of brightly lit houses surround the water in the distance as I figuratively walk the plank toward whatever disaster lies ahead. As sleep deprived as I am and have been this past week, I’m surprisingly alert. As we reach the end of the pier, I palm the railing, wondering if I jumped in now, how far I would make it.

Sensing my hesitance, Easton steps closer to me, his quiet electricity surrounding me as I try to think of a way to explain my actions.

“Are you tired?” He asks softly, surprising me by speaking first, and with concern for me before darting his gaze to the dark water.

“Not really. I was just thinking that. You?”

“No.”

“Either way, I’ll see myself back to my hotel. I’m sure you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

“Kind of necessary since I’m parked there.”

A burst of tense laughter escapes me, and I shake my head at my idiocy. “Maybe not tired, but it’s clear I’m in dire need of sleep.”

Turning, I step up on the wooden base hitching my arms on the railing. The breeze whips around my face, a few strands inevitably sticking to my freshly glossed lips. Just as I lift my hand to free it, Easton grips my arm, moving to stand in front of me. Stunned and immobile, he cups my jaw before running a sure thumb over my lips, completely wiping all traces of the gloss away. A stuttered breath leaves me as he leans in, palming my stomach before sliding his hand into the pocket of my jeans. Glancing down, I watch him retrieve my gloss before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. I gape at him in disbelief. “What the hell?”

He shrugs. “Seemed like the easiest fucking solution.”

“Yeah, but you see,” I manage to get out as he inches closer, “you just erased all the allure.”

“Not fucking possible,” he whispers heatedly, eyes probing as my libido lights fire, his every word stoking it. He dips dangerously close, and I palm his chest, determined to get my confession out. He steps back, his posture rigid.

I glance back at the water briefly to stop myself from tossing caution to the wind and giving in to my desire before looking back up at him. “You want honesty? I’ve never been so attracted to a man in my life.”

He stares down at me, expression unwavering as if that’s not news.

Tough room.

“ But if I entertain it, it will be the second-worst thing I’ve ever done.”

His jaw ticks as I start to defend that statement.

“However, not for the reasons you might think. I asked you to walk with me because I’m going to try to explain myself. I’ve just been stalling because I know when I do, you might turn around, walk away, and never speak to me again—and you’ll be well within your rights to.” I wince. “You probably should.”

His brows lift. “That bad?”

“For me, in my heart,” I press my hand where it lays, “it feels like the worst thing I’ve ever done, especially now, because I like you a lot, and I don’t want to deceive you another minute.”

“You’re not here for an interview,” he delivers with a relaxed tone.

I nod.

“I gathered that much,” he utters simply. “So, this is about our parents?”

I nod again. “Partially, but not for the reasons you might think. How mad are you?”

“You’re pretty transparent, Natalie. So, I’m more fucking relieved than anything.”

“Well, don’t be,” I blow out a harsh breath. “Our gossip columnist is still going to run a story Monday speculating you’re coming out with a debut album. That’s out of my hands . . . and it’s out of my hands because I can’t . . . no, I won’t protect you.”

He rakes his lip with his teeth, eyes cooling considerably.

“Reason being, if I try to stop her from running it, questions will be raised by both her and my father, who will demand an explanation as to why I’m protecting you.” I swallow. “Reasons I can’t give because I’m not allowed to and was never supposed to know you, Easton.” I test the waters. “How angry are you now?”

“I’m still standing here,” he clips out.

“Well, you are partially right in your assessment,” I admit in a whisper. “I didn’t come here to meet you as a reporter . . . but as the child of the other half of a broken love story between our parents.”

“Guess you’ve got a story now,” he grits out with a venomous bite.

“Despite the fact that you shouldn’t trust me at all at this point, I won’t use a single word of what you told me, even if it could boost circulation and my career. I’ve already decided that.”

He remains in front of me, his profile backlit by a nearby dock light.

“The truth is, it was never my story to begin with. I got the information from my columnist and used it as an excuse to meet you.” I palm my face briefly. “Jesus, yeah, it sounds really, really , bad out loud.”

He remains mute, demanding the rest of my explanation.

“I told you that something happened recently that threw me off.”

A slow nod.

“The thing that happened is . . . fuck it,” I shake my head, deciding not to attempt to arrange the words and just let them fly. “I was digging through Austin Speak’s archives for excerpts of stories for our thirtieth-anniversary edition of the paper and, in doing so, stumbled upon emails between my father and your mother. Some of them were very personal emails, and it did something to me . . . I can’t really explain it, which is pathetic because I’m supposed to excel at describing through words.”

Easton’s expression remains unreadable. Unsure if he’s about to turn away in disgust, I rush through the rest of my explanation.

“At first, I only read a few. The beginning of their relationship and the end. I was stunned to discover they’d dated at all. As close as my father and I are, he’s never once mentioned it. Anyway, I guess you could say that once I read them, they created an alternate universe. Like,” I swallow, “like everything I knew about my parents, their history, and the fact that they even exist is more thanks to a decision on someone else’s part rather than the soulmates, kismet type of thing I’ve always believed. The truth is, if our parents had stayed together, they would be living entirely different lives.” I cringe. “Jesus, I know I sound like a lunatic. Especially since, in that alternate universe, you and I don’t exist.” My chest flutters with awareness and ache. “They loved each other, Easton, your mother, my father, they were really, really , fucking in love, and not for just a few months, for years . It was serious, and what I read rocked me to my core. It shook my beliefs. It made me question a lot. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why I’m taking it so personally or why it hurts me so much. I mean . . . everyone has exes, right?”

I brave a look at him to see that he’s staring at me intently.

“I don’t know why I flew here and sought you out. I swear I’m not asking for anything, nor would I ask . . . or do I want to meet Stella or Re-y-your parents. That’s not what this is. I guess it’s just a morbid type of curiosity that brought me here to meet you.” After a harsh exhale, I relay the rest of the truth. “It’s just . . . that revelation kind of cracked my sky. Those emails . . . the love exchanged. It’s altered how I view things and my parents’ relationship as a whole, and I can’t change it back. So, I just had to get away, and I came here. That’s it, that’s the whole truth.”

I shake my head and let out a low, strangled laugh. “You probably think I’m crazy now.”

Silence stretches for long seconds as I avoid his eyes.

“Crazy people don’t question their sanity,” he utters assuringly.

“Well, I feel fucking crazy. I just couldn’t look at my father anymore with a thousand unanswered questions I have no right to ask swirling in my head. I had to get the hell out of there. Not only because of that, but because I violated his privacy in an unforgivable way. Some of those emails were so intimate.”

Tears threaten, and my voice shakes. “Nate Butler is the person I love and respect most in the world . My father is my everything. Maybe that’s why I took it so personally. So, I came here, I guess, wanting to meet you, doubtful I would get any more of a story you probably had no idea existed, either. And now . . . though the why is killing me, I don’t think I want to know the rest. Knowing the full truth will probably sting worse than not knowing, but I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for the way I did this, the way I roped you into my bullshit. It was just a lot easier to do it in a professional capacity than to admit that . . .” I palm my face briefly and smile, “is twenty-two too early to have a midlife crisis?”

Fear swallows me as his eyes remain intent, and I turn back to the water. “I’m sorry, Easton, if you want to walk away, God, go. I won’t blame you, but everything you’ve confided in me is safe, I swear to you.”

I feel the brush of his hand against mine, and an involuntary shiver runs up my spine. My lips part as I glance back at him, his face impassive as he grips my arm and turns me back to him.

“Stop fucking ducking away from me,” he commands, his order warming me, even as I shiver in the cold.

“Do you hate me?”

He slowly shakes his head before he speaks. “Are they happy?”

“My parents?” I ask.

He nods.

“That’s the thing, they seem to be totally content . . . I have no right to ask you . . . but are—”

Easton nods quickly, confirming what I already knew.

“So, it’s all for the best, and I should be able to put it to rest, except that . . .”

“What?”

“They were engaged, Easton.”

Easton’s eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, I discovered that last night, which is why I didn’t sleep. Like I said, it was serious, and I felt it. I felt the love between them down to my marrow.”

He sorts through my confessions for several beats before his expression changes, and I don’t miss its implication.

“Great,” I roll my eyes. “I know that look and what you’re thinking.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re thinking that maybe if I had a love life of my own to concentrate on, I wouldn’t currently be obsessing over my father’s ancient history.”

“No—”

“Oh, shut up. You’re thinking it.” I call bullshit. All pretenses are gone as I bare myself in return because he deserves it, no matter how humiliating it is.

“I’m not thinking that. Not outright.”

“Okay then, what do you think? Don’t hold back,” I snort. “Not like you would to spare me.”

The space between us crackles as I blow out a nervous breath. He waits for my gaze to lift, his silence deafening before he finally speaks.

“I think reading those emails affected you this way because you might be envious. Maybe you crave a connection, a love like my parents have, like our parents had together, maybe something more than the relationship you’ve idolized your whole life.” He leans in, his every word striking like a blow.

“Jesus. Is this who I am? The girl inventing drama?” He blocks my attempt to cover my face before pinning my wrists to the dock and stealing my breath.

“I’m also thinking you’ve never been properly kissed, fucked, or loved and that you caught a glimpse of something you want for yourself .”

My foot slips, and in an instant I’m in his arms as his whisper caresses my temple. “Okay?”

“Yes,” I snap. “No, hell no,” I admit, stepping out of his reach.

“Natalie—” he murmurs at my back.

“Fuck—this is humiliating.” I feel my eyes burning as the truth of his words resonate with me. “I’ve been so wrapped up in it, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees,” I scoff. “But you’re right, you’re absolutely right. Hell, maybe this was inevitable . . . I’ve been reading and writing human interest stories my entire life. Incredible moments,” I sniff. “ Other people’s defining moments and echoes. So, what do I go and do?” My eyes spill over. “The worst fucking thing imaginable to a man who means everything to me. Just being here, meeting you, is a betrayal in itself, Easton—of the worst kind.” Fear rolls through me at the idea my father might already know where I am. “If he found out I was here, with you, I don’t know if he could or would ever forgive me.”

“There’s nothing wrong wit—”

“There’s everything wrong with this,” I snap. “She broke his heart in a way that probably changed him. So maybe there is a lot of truth to what you’ve gathered, but it’s not just envy . . .”

He turns my chin with gentle fingers, forcing my watering eyes to his. “Say it.”

I gaze up at him, feeling as lost as I was when I got here. “What if . . . my father settled for my mother? What if she’s felt it over the years? Or worse, what if she fucking knows it and has lived with it all this time?”

“That’s your fear, which might not be the truth.”

I nod.

“And not just fear for your mother, but for yourself.”

I nod again, tasting the salty evidence of that truth pooling on my lips.

“But it’s not your life, Natalie,” he gently reminds me. “You don’t even know if it’s true, and if it is, that’s on them.”

“I hate not knowing.”

“Then you have to ask.”

“Never.” I sniff. “God, I would never. I just have to let it go, and I’m going to, here. Here and now. This is completely destructive and serves no purpose.” I glance up at the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. “And being with you—”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Yes, I am. Even you, Mr. Brutal Honesty, can’t truly deny that.”

He remains quiet because he can’t. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Easton, why aren’t you hauling ass in the other direction? Seriously, why are you being so nice to me? Especially after what I just told you?”

“Not sure,” he says as I lift my palm to his chest, and he covers it with his own. “You’re cold.”

“I’ll live,” I say, ripping my eyes away from him so he can’t see the desire begin to blind me. I focus on a seagull who drunkenly lands a few feet away. Where before it was easier to distance myself, it’s now a constant struggle not to touch him more intimately, especially feeling as raw as I do. “So, there’s my sad little tale, which isn’t even mine. Pathetic.”

“You’re bored. You’ve realized it. You followed a trail that piqued your interest, and it led to a little self-discovery. It’s not a fucking crime to realize that you feel you’re lacking in some ways. What would make it a crime is if you didn’t do shit about it. You’re an intelligent woman, and now you know what you want and what you don’t. Figuring it out is all part of it, right?”

“God,” I grin while wiping away the few errant tears gliding down my cheeks. “That pep talk must have been so painful for your A-side.”

“I got close to jumping in,” he jests in a velvet tone that has me inhaling an extra breath.

“Yeah, well, I guess thank you for not throwing me over. You’re a pretty decent guy, Easton Crowne.”

Gripping my hand, he surrounds it with his own and pulls me to his side, “Come on, let’s walk some more until you get tired.”

“I’m sorry, Easton,” I repeat because it bears repeating.

As we walk away from the pier, he laces our fingers together in response. Relief trickles in as I glance over at him just as we pass the dock light, and I see no trace of judgment but an accepting warmth in his eyes. It’s then I feel the totality of the warm embrace Stella described when she first arrived in Seattle. That and the knowledge I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be and with the right person—even if I don’t understand or have the crystal clarity of why. He pulls me into his side as we stroll along the edge of the water, my head resting on his chest before we get lost in our footfalls.

Easton stops short of the sliding doors outside of the hotel and wordlessly lifts our clutched hands before pressing his lush lips to the back of mine. Heat sparks through me as the buzz between us amps up, crackling and intensifying with every passing second.

“So, you don’t hate me?”

“No,” he answers, quickly crowding me on the sidewalk. His potent, desire-filled gaze destroying my will to keep him at arm’s length by the second.

“Not even a little?”

“No, but do you want a little more clarity?”

“Think I can handle it?”

His lips lift in a barely-there grin. “You’re a little more villain than you think.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I have to agree with that.”

“We all have one in us,” he imparts.

“You’re completely different than I thought you would be,” I admit, “but in the best way.” My limbs thrum with recognition that the gorgeous distraction towering over me is taking up every inch of my headspace.

“Easton, maybe I’ve been presumptuous in thinking . . . but if I wasn’t,” I whisper as his body cradles mine without contact, the invisible thread between us strengthening, “if I wasn’t—”

Using our clasped hands, he jerks me flush to him, his breath hitting my ear a second before his heated declaration. “If you weren’t so determined to keep me out of your bed, I’d be fucking the breath out of you right now, Natalie.”

I let out a shaky exhale as his erection brushes against me. “In my mind, I’ve already sunk inside you a thousand times.”

A whimper leaves my throat as he pulls back, undeniable heat burning in his darkening emerald gaze.

“This is crazy,” I swallow.

“No, it’s not,” he says, brushing his thumb seductively over the back of my hand. Allowing it briefly, I lose myself in the sweep of his touch as I imagine the type of lover he would be. He seems to read my thoughts easily, as he has since the day we met, all the while naturally disarming me.

Exhaling heavily, he pulls back slightly, reaching into his jean pocket where he retrieves a pack of breath mints. His dark lashes flit over his cheeks as he unwraps the candy. Lifting a piece of it, he gently pushes it between my parted lips. Embarrassment threatening, I draw my brows just as he pops a piece into his own mouth before flicking the mint skillfully along his tongue. “I’m so tempted to ignore your words and listen to everything else you’re not saying.”

“Please don’t,” I whisper, knowing if he moves in, I won’t stop him. It’s when he inches closer that I realize I’m fisting his jersey for support.

He cups my face, running his thumb along my creased brow before lowering it to slide it across my bottom lip. “At least now I don’t have to wonder what your mouth tastes like.”

My entire body trembles with need as his earthy scent engulfs me while he presses a slow kiss to my temple. “Sleep in. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three.” Releasing me, he turns just as abruptly and stalks toward the parking lot as if forcing himself to walk away.