Chapter 1 #2
That black hair. His black suit.
I’m facing the back of him as he watches the violin quartet playing on stage across the room.
My vision turns red when I clear my throat and close the ten-foot gap between us.
I stab my finger against his shoulder.
“Weddings are invite only, asshole.”
I’m prepared to fully lay into him when he turns around. Instead, I fall silent when he does.
“Oh.” I blink rapidly, my cheeks immediately heating. “I’m… I’m sorry. I thought—”
“I was someone else?” the man cuts in, chuckling to himself and sizing me up. “Clearly.”
I let out a light laugh, relaxing only a fraction. The champagne and growing paranoia must have me hallucinating tonight.
“I really am sorry.” My gaze drops to his bare neck. “I should have known.”
“Maybe I can help you find him, whoever he is.” The man shoves his hands into his pockets and looks around before he’s dropping his gaze back to me. “Or maybe I don’t want to.”
I take a half step back and raise my chin higher.
He’s handsome, I’ll give him that. Last year, I wouldn’t have hesitated.
I would have leaned into this man’s flirting and sent a witty retort right back.
But the cloud that’s following me won’t allow me to now.
The idea of flirting with this stranger makes my stomach coil.
“Thank you.” I offer a weak smile. “But that’s okay. I’m sorry for what I said… and for your shoulder.”
“I’ll survive. For the record, I do have an invite to be here.” His smile reaches his eyes. “In any case, if you don’t want help looking for this man, may I at least ask you to dance?”
I look into this stranger’s kind blue eyes and beg myself to find a shred of willingness to take him up on his offer.
“Fuck. Was that too forward of me?” He scrunches his nose. “He’s your boyfriend or husband, isn’t he? The man you thought I was. Of course, a woman with your startling beauty and wit isn’t going to be available.”
“You’re kind.” I reach up and massage the back of my neck. I think I need air. I take a step back, putting more distance between us. “I’m sorry again—”
“Colin,” he blurts out. “Name is Colin Walsh. Former client of the groom.”
“Oh, well then, Colin. I’m sorry again for the rude introduction.” I drop my hand from the back of my neck and fold my hands in front of me. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You, too.”
I’m already spinning on my heel by the time the second word spills from his mouth.
Anger. Betrayal. Frustration. Embarrassment.
I feel them all. I can’t sort through each emotion as I pass the buffet table and swipe another glass of champagne up into my hand.
Shit, Asher and Charleigh are passing them out like candy at this point.
I may as well drink as many as I’m able to handle.
I toss the alcohol all the way back before slamming the empty glass down on the table with a little too much force.
Swallowing, I make my way toward the closest exit.
I don’t even know if Charleigh has started the bouquet toss yet, but I need air before I suffocate and die of whatever this feeling is inside me.
“Jules.” London scoops my hand into hers, pulling me back toward the dance floor. “Charleigh’s been looking for you. She’s throwing the bouquet.”
“I told her she could start without me. I need air.” I try to pull away, but I’m unsuccessful. London’s on a mission to get me over to the growing crowd of women gathered in front of Charleigh on the dance floor.
“Come on,” London pleads. “You know it’ll mean the world to her for you to be there.”
Dammit, London and her soft doe eyes, laying the guilt trip on thick.
“Fine.” I groan. “I’ll join in.”
“Yay!” London bounces on her toes before dragging me over to join the group.
I try to stay toward the outskirts of the crowd of clamoring and giggling women, but London shoves me deeper into the throng of people until I’m wedged between women I’ve only met a few hours earlier.
I look over both shoulders for Selene and London but can’t find them.
London literally threw me to the wolves then abandoned me.
“Ready?” Charleigh shouts from her position in front of the group.
I stand on my toes and get a better view of her.
She smiles and sends me a wink, and I manage a quick smile in return before she’s spinning around, raising the bouquet above her head.
I sigh and slip farther into the back, allowing the other hopeful women to gain a better position than me.
Ear piercing shrieks and screams fill the ballroom as arms fly into the air, clamoring to grab hold of the cluster of mountain laurels.
I back away and slip out without Charleigh catching wind of my departure.
I feel guilty for dipping out on a moment she thinks I should be a part of, but the pressure growing in my chest is becoming unbearable. I may have mistaken the man peering at me from behind the flower wall, but I know he’s still here somewhere.
Fucker.
While marching down the hall, toward the back exit, I glance over my shoulder before pushing through the large, glass door.
The warm, early-summer air hits my skin, and I practically gasp before falling against the wall.
I peer up at the dark night sky. Farther down the alley, the city is alive, but from where I’m standing, I’m in my own world, alone.
My few seconds of solace are a momentary blip before the door beside me is swinging open.
A groan rises from my throat, and I’m pushing myself away from the wall the second I see his stupid fucking gorgeous face.
Black suit.
Black hair.
Bird tattoo sprawled across his neck, its wings wrapped around his throat, belonging to my worst enemy.
“I fucking knew it.” I scoff, crossing my arms tightly beneath my chest. “Leave it to Rome Montgomery to always show up in places he isn’t wanted. Especially at my best friend’s wedding.”
“You know, it’s a good thing you didn’t catch the bouquet.” He smirks, ignoring my comment. “That would have been difficult to explain.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
He scratches at the shadow of dark hair on his jaw, his blue eyes sliding to meet mine. “From what I recall, you were never good at sports. Also, it would have looked greedy if you were to go home with two bouquets of flowers. No, wait! Make that three bouquets, since you’re the maid of honor.”
“I never doubted it was you who left those in my room.” My lungs deflate, knowing he was here. Only he would have left me a bouquet of roses anonymously. “You’ve always had that stalker streak in you.”
“Yet you’re still surprised I’m here.”
“Nope, not at all. You always show up where you aren’t invited, but I guess I’m an idiot for thinking my best friend’s wedding would be an exception,” I snap back. “Besides, do you have a death wish? You’re lucky my father hasn’t seen you.”
“Aw.” He sticks out his bottom lip. “Are you worried about my safety, Lark? That’s cute.”
“Absolutely not.” I roll my eyes. “Your death would actually be a welcomed gift. At least then I may be able to live my life in peace.”
His face is unflinching, along with his silence, and I’m cursing myself for trying to read him. He’s always been impossible to read.
I begin to feel unsteady on my feet. I want to say it’s the champagne, but I know it isn’t. The metaphorical storm cloud thunders above me, reminding me it still exists. That he exists. I’m afraid it will never leave until we’ve settled the score. Anger bubbles in my veins, mixing with the alcohol.
I tip my chin higher, readying myself. For years, Rome and I have played a game of tit for tat, exchanging insults and pranks, hoping it would drive the other crazy.
To what end is a mystery. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been hoping I could break him.
It’s what I’ve wanted for years, and what I think he deserves.
I guess he feels the same way. Some things never change.
Though we’d taken a little too far when he broke into my office and filled it with a million torn pieces of paper.
In retaliation, I’d written an anonymous article in my brother’s magazine, accusing Rome of hosting sex parties and orgies.
He sued my brother and the magazine for defamation but dropped it once I finally confessed that I was the responsible author.
Now he claims I owe him a debt in exchange for dropping the lawsuit.
As if he’s doing me a favor, when really, he’s just an asshole.
Taking in a shaky breath, I ask him the one question I’ve been dreading. “So, what are you doing here? Collecting your debt?”
“Not quite yet, Lark.” His voice is deep and smooth, slithering over me like a serpent.
I bite the tip of my tongue until the pain becomes unbearable. You can never escape your past, can you?
“Why are you here, then?”
“I’m on my way out for a job.”
“A job?”
He sighs, annoyed. “An assignment.”
“You know what?” I raise my hands in the air, palms up. “I don’t want to know.”
“Julianna Capuleti.” He snickers, his sinful eyes narrowing. “Always thinking she’s entitled to anything she wants. Hilarious to assume I would tell you, anyway.”
I harden my gaze and imagine every way possible I could torture this man. I consider starting by stabbing my heel into his toe, then finding that fucking bouquet of roses in the trash bin and shoving them down his throat.
Years ago, I’d been a fucking fool.
The pain he inflicted on me growing up was child’s play compared to the pain he put me through at eighteen. I’d orbited a little too close to the sun, and now the universe is punishing me for the rest of eternity.
“In another world, you could say I have an obligation to know, Rome.”
He frowns, the corners of his mouth creasing in disagreement.
He looks down and drags his toe across the pavement before he looks up again and slowly walks toward me.
Once he’s towering over me, he steps close enough until my bare back lands against the sharp edges of the brick wall behind me.
I beg and plead to whatever is out there that my father or brother don’t come out here now.
If they were to see the way Rome and I are interacting in this moment, we’d both be dead before we could draw in another breath.
Rome doesn’t seem to care, though, as he presses his entire body against mine, pinning me to the wall. The shadow I can never run away from.
A dark cloud. A raging storm.
I gasp, forcing my hammering heart to calm the fuck down. The scent of crisp leather and pine fill my nostrils, clouding my judgment. My gaze drops to his mouth, and suddenly I’m remembering all the places it’s been on my body.
At one point in time, he promised me the world, and I fell for it.
I won’t ever make that mistake again.
“Just like I should have the right to know why you were flirting with that asshole friend of the groom’s right?” He sneers, his eyes darkening.
“I’d ask if you’re jealous, but I don’t think you’re capable, because being jealous would mean you actually have feelings.”
“Let me see…” He looks up before looking back down at me. “What number would this be since, you know…? Give me a ballpark.”
I’m ready to explode. I feel my heart beating like one of those timers, strapped to a bomb. “Go to Hell, Rome.”
“If I’m going to Hell, I’m dragging you with me.”
“You already have.”
The heavy silence that follows permeates my skin, digging into my bones. I feel it everywhere. Every sensation I’ve buried for years threatens to rise to the surface.
Fucking Rome Montgomery.
He lets the quiet linger for a beat longer before he finally breaks it, his voice torturously low.
“You don’t have an obligation to know shit, Lark.
” Lifting his hand, he drags the tip of his finger along my jaw, searing my skin.
Strands of black hair hover just above his deep-blue ocean eyes.
They pierce mine, staring straight into my soul. “You lost that right a long time ago.”
I inhale as many deep, heavy breaths as I can, aware that they’re labored and painful as I gather the strength to replace the armor he’s managed to dismantle in just the few minutes we’ve been out here.
I bounce off the wall and roll onto my toes, hardening my glare. “I don’t think you want to fall down the rabbit hole of who lost what first.” I’ve been an expert at hiding the pain buried deep within me. What’s another day? “Besides, I will always have the right until you—”
“Don’t,” he cuts in, running a hand over his mouth. He steels his chest and clamps his mouth shut—clear tell he’s done with this conversation.
Good. I was done with it long before he walked out here. Pride fills me knowing that I put him in his place, bringing up the one inevitable thing we can never rectify. The consequences of attempting to end what’s left between us are far more dangerous than maintaining the status quo.
“Great.” I ball my hands into fists at my sides. My palms will be scarred at this point. “Now that we’ve had this incredibly productive conversation, can you leave before you ruin my best friend’s wedding by staring down the barrel of my father’s gun?”
Without waiting for his approval, I bump into his shoulder on the way to the door, grinding my teeth so hard I think they’ll crack.
But it’s the only thing keeping me from breaking into tears at this point.
I tell myself Rome and I have both been fools from the start, but sometimes I wonder if I’ve been the bigger one for thinking I could ever not hate him.
My hand is on the handle of the door to get back inside, but I freeze when Rome’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Shocker, Lark.”
I sigh heavily, turning just enough to peer at him over my shoulder. “What is?”
“Meeting in secret. Hating one another. Tossing petty insults at one another.” His mouth twitches. “Never changes, does it?”
“You can’t change what’s in your blood, Montgomery.
Neither can I.” My eyes sting with tears, and the urge to get away from Rome as quickly as possible is the only thing keeping me from unraveling in front of him.
I inhale an unsteady, shaky breath, and leave him standing in the alley, knowing it won’t be the last time I see him.
It never is.