Reverse (Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

SEVENTY-FIVE “One More Try”

SEVENTY-FIVE

“One More Try”

George Michael

Easton

O nce Misty is loaded into her waiting car, I watch it pull away. As I do, a sudden but familiar anger surges through me. The feeling only intensifies as I turn and stalk back into the lobby.

Guilt-ridden, pissed about my current circumstances, fed the fuck up with fate and the havoc it’s wreaked on me, along with my ex-wife—who’s determined to make me dismantle my freshly constructed system for self-preservation—I prowl back into the resort lobby on a mission. Walking up to the reception desk, I grit out my request. “Can you please dial Natalie Butler’s room?”

The man behind the counter clicks his mouse to look her up and dials. “Sorry, Mr. Crowne, she’s not answering.”

“Of course she isn’t, because that would make this much less difficult,” I grit out.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, sorry,” I say, raking my hands through my hair. Heart pumping with fear that she left before I got a chance to thank her for her belated birthday present—I wonder if she’s already headed toward a plane bound for Texas.

Wouldn’t surprise me. After all, it’s her MO—intoxicate, devastate, and dash.

Fuming, I decide to have the front desk call her again, taking note of the room number when he dials. “Sorry, Mr. Crowne, she’s still—”

“It’s fine,” I wave him off. “Thank you.”

Sweat gathering on my brow, I bang on her hotel door minutes later as my heart begins thrashing wildly in my chest. “Open the fucking door, Natalie!”

My knock goes unanswered as the door adjacent clicks open, and Holly and Damon’s heads pop out, one atop the other. Both their heads slowly turn my way, eyes widening as they take in my state.

“Where is she?” I bark in demand.

Holly speaks up first. “Um, with all due respect, Easton, I’m not telling you shit with that intent to murder look in your eyes.”

“I would never hurt her,” I hear myself say. “And you both fucking know it.”

“But haven’t you?” Holly asks as I fist my hands at my sides before stalking toward them.

Both of them jerk back behind the door, leaving only a fraction open as Damon tosses a progress report from the other side of it. “She’s not in good shape.”

“No shit,” I snap sarcastically, trying to get a handle on my anger. “I just want to talk to her.”

“Is Misty okay?” Holly asks as muffled commotion breaks out behind the door.

“My newest ex?” I belt to them both. “Well, right now, she’s on her way to a different hotel to wipe her memory free of any remnants of me,” I practically shout as Damon’s head reappears. “Probably with someone who looks a lot like you .”

Damon winces. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. That’s on me. That tequila tour was my bad.”

“Yeah, well, what did I ever do to you?” I ask him.

“Believe it or not, you’re getting me back pretty good right now.” He widens his eyes.

I furrow my brows. “What?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Look, man. I’ve never seen her that distraught, and I’ve known her since we were babies.”

Panic threatens, the devastation on her face all I can see. “Just tell me where she is.”

“I really don’t know. When she got out of the SUV, she begged me not to follow. We’ve called her a dozen times, and her phone is going straight to voicemail. She turned off her locator, too.”

“Of course, she did,” I palm my face in frustration.

“I can help you look for her,” he offers.

“I’ll find her,” I inch forward. “Can you at least give me a general direction? This resort is three fucking miles wide.”

“East.” Damon offers in fast response.

“East? You’re joking, right?”

He cocks his head. “Unfortunately . . . no ?”

“Just . . .,” I exhale harshly, “. . . if you see her, tell her I’m looking for her, all right?”

“I will.”

I back a step away from the door just as he closes it. Not ten seconds later, Holly calls to my retreating back just after I push the button for the elevator. “Easton Crowne!” She booms with protective authority, forcing me to turn and address her as she secures a bedsheet around her.

Oh. Ohhh.

The last few awkward minutes begin to make sense as Holly reads my state—heartbeat erratic, mind in overdrive, worry overtaking me, anger due to Natalie’s disappearance the front runner. Dressed in an impromptu toga, Holly squares her shoulders before issuing her threat. “Rock star or not, I’ll put my foot up your ass, if you hurt my girl!”

“Tell ’im, baby,” Damon sounds from behind the door.

“I don’t see you telling him,” she fires back to the crack of space.

“It’s implied,” he grits out.

“It’s unnecessary ,” I inform them, denying my smile and dismissing them both, turning to repeatedly jab the elevator button.

“Just . . . please, Easton,” Holly reasons at my back. “She’s been through enough.”

All I can do is nod before I step into the elevator turning to briefly meet Holly’s pleading gaze as the doors close.

Less than twenty-four hours in, my ex-wife is putting me through my paces as my ex-girlfriend literally runs for the hills.

I shouldn’t have expected any less.

Same woman.

Same result .

Stay pissed, Easton.

But I don’t stay pissed. Panic takes the lead and runs rampant after endless minutes of fruitlessly combing the resort and coming up empty. Muscles aching, heart racing, her pained cries echoing throughout my mind, I start my search along the beach, seeing no signs of her. Fear snatches me in a chokehold as I stop briefly, panting heavily, gut churning. In an attempt to calm myself, I brace my hands on my thighs.

Fuck, Beauty, where are you?

Sweat dripping from every inch of my body, I spot a dune a short distance away and stalk toward it. It’s when I reach the top of it that her voice carries to me on the wind. Relieved, I let the anger seep back in as I lose my footing on the other side of the dune, all but tumbling down, before barely managing to catch myself in time to land on my feet. Feeling crazed and possessed, emotions in overdrive, I slap at the sand covering me in irritation as I stalk toward her where she sits, her back to me, phone lifted to her ear.

“No, I’m not,” she sniffs. “And I haven’t been okay for a long time.” Hunched over in my jacket, her wedding dress, I bat the sentimental thought away, ready to lay into her but am stopped dead in my tracks when she speaks again.

“I’m glad, Daddy, because I want to tell you about the man I fell in love with in Seattle.”

Her tearful admission grips my seizing heart like a vise as I’m frozen where I stand, waiting on bated breath for Nate’s reply. During those short seconds, I toss up a prayer, if only for her sake, for him to finally hear her out. It’s when she begins her tearful confession that I stop breathing altogether.

“He’s perceptive. He can read people easily and usually judge people’s character within minutes. He speaks the way he lives—with

intent, and it’s fascinating to me because I’ve never met anyone so brave. He’s brilliant, magnetic, and . . . magical, and I’m drawn to him more than I have ever been to any other soul in my life. He listens to my passion like it’s his favorite pastime and treats me like I’m the most precious thing on earth—with the utmost respect and care. He’s fiercely protective and has a temper. Still, it’s mostly directed towards those who endanger the ones he loves, who purposefully play ignorant, or treat others unfairly, but would never, ever hurt me.”

She runs my jacket sleeve along her face as my heart stalls out altogether.

“Like me, he’s close to his parents and mildly superstitious because of his mother. He habitually practices a few of her quirks, though he’ll be hard-pressed to admit it. He idolizes his father, too,” her voice cracks painfully with that admission, as does my chest. “He’s insanely talented and can memorize songs in mere minutes, the notes, the lyrics, all of it, though he’ll never call himself a prodigy or a genius, he’s too humble . . . He’s famous and hates it, but only because he’s an empath to his core and doesn’t want to be idolized or held responsible for other people’s life choices.” She cups her mouth briefly to stifle her cries before continuing. “He’s my supernova, the only star in my sky, and oh . . . how he shines. Every time I look at him, my insides light fire, and I am every bit a moth to his flame. But I don’t care if I burn because . . . because I would rather burn with him in any capacity, than exist safely anywhere else without him.”

Raking my hand through my hair, I stand back helplessly, unraveling with every word she speaks.

Damn this woman.

“I’m in love with Easton Crowne, Daddy, and I’m never going to fall out of love with him, and I t-think . . .” she hangs her head, her cries carrying over to me and breaking me down completely, piece by piece as does her next declaration. “I think it’s way too late. I think . . . I think I’ve lost him for good, but I’m going to try like hell to get him back, and if I do . . . I’m going to put him first .”

Every ounce of my anger dissipates as my frustration also threatens to shake free. Gutted by her admissions, by what I still feel for her, emotions strangle me as the words I thought I would never hear in my lifetime continue to pour from her lips.

“I just wanted to tell you why I have to break your heart again, Daddy. Despite it being the worst twist of fate imaginable, Easton is the man who fills my heart and soul, and with me, he comes first.”

I send up another quick prayer as brief silence lingers before she speaks again. “I l-l-love you, t-too, thank y-you, Daddy. I’m g-getting t-too upset to talk. I need to go now, okay? I’ll c-call you when I’ve c-calmed down.”

A pause, a sniff, another muffled cry into the sleeve of my jacket. “O-kay. B-bye, Daddy.” She ends the call, bends her head, and sobs into her hands.

Destroyed by the sight of it and unable to handle another second, I move to go to her just as she snaps her shoulders back, stands, dusts herself off, and turns. Eyes lowered, she begins charging toward the resort, toward me with determination.

I’ve never in my life loved the sight of anything more.

A few steps in, she pauses as if sensing me, lifts her head, eyes widening when she sees me standing there. Posture faltering, she croaks my name in defeat before again dropping her face in her palms.