Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Absolutely the fuck not,” I said, glaring at the asshole in the suit standing across from my girl.
The Florida heat had hit me like a brick wall as soon as I’d stepped off the plane, and then I’d raced to get here. I knew my black T-shirt was soaked through, I knew I looked completely unhinged, but I didn’t give a shit.
“What’s going on?” Dimwit with the floppy tan hair looked between Trace and me, mouth hanging open. I realized I had placed myself firmly in between them, purely out of instinct.
“And who the hell are you?” I barked. His open mouth snapped closed. Jesus. The guy couldn’t even get his own name out.
“What are you doing here?” A quiet voice came from behind me.
When I turned to her, every receptor in my dumbass brain was momentarily stunned by how good she looked in that fucking dress, the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.
She was the kind of woman people wrote songs about.
Suddenly I wished I had an ounce of Trace’s musical talent, so I could be the one singing about her.
“Me? What the hell are you doing here? A wedding? I saw you four goddamn weeks ago.”
“I know.” She sighed and shot me a dirty look.
“We need to talk,” I said.
The camera operators hovered nearby, surrounding us. I was not about to do this in front of an audience. I grabbed her hand and thankfully, even though she had every good reason not to, she followed me as I bolted into the building behind the outdoor venue.
Our feet pounded on the sand. I was vaguely aware of yelling and scrambling behind us, but I tuned it out.
“Danny!” she called, but I kept going, scanning the large room we’d just entered. Catering and staff milled about, trying to get things set up for a reception.
A hallway to our left caught my eye. I tore through the room and down the hallway until we came to an open door.
I stepped through, tugging her behind me, and closed us both inside.
It was a storage closet lined with shelves stuffed full of towels and cleaning supplies.
There was no lock, but I managed to jam the handle unusable by stuffing a mop handle underneath it.
Finally, I looked at Trace again. Her arms were folded as she shot me a glare full of contempt.
Shit. She looked like a goddess. An angry, beautiful goddess.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” she demanded.
I arched an eyebrow and dipped my chin as if to say, Try again.
Her head fell back and she shook it a few times, clearly in shock. I couldn’t blame her. I had flown in there like a bat out of hell and pulled her away, in front of all those people. It dawned on me then that I’d quite literally crashed her wedding.
“I haven’t heard from you in months, and—”
“No,” I interrupted her. “I saw you at the reunion.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know I don’t mean the reunion.”
I raked a hand through my damp, sweaty hair, sweeping my gaze over the shelves. Stacks of clean towels stared back at me. I grabbed one and wiped the sheen of sweat from my forehead. “Well, if you hadn’t blocked my number, you would have heard from me every damn day,” I said.
She gawked up at me. “Are you seriously using a tone with me?”
“There’s no tone,” I said, although my face was red and my voice was rushed. It wasn’t her. It was the situation. The panic of seeing her standing at the end of the aisle with another guy.
She shook her head. I hated the defeated look in her eyes. “You did it, Danny, you made your big entrance. Now, what do you want?”
“Easy. You.”
She scoffed and narrowed her eyes, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind, which, fair. I wasn’t the picture of sanity right now, my eyes wide, my heart beating a mile a minute.
“You’ve made it abundantly clear that isn’t true,” she said.
I stooped down so that our faces were closer to eye level. “Trace, I messed up,” I said, forcing the roughness out of my voice. “More than messed up. I ruined my fucking life the day I let you walk away. I realized it as soon as you got on the plane.”
She scowled and shook her head. “But—”
“You blocked me. So I went to your shows. You wouldn’t see me.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip, her arms crossed in front of her. I wanted to reach for her so badly it hurt.
“You still let me walk away. Again.”
“I know.” I licked my lips. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
There was a clatter in the hallway. Must be the crew. I knew we didn’t have much time left before they’d barge their way in here, one way or another.
“Why are you wearing a wedding dress right now, Trace?” I asked, unable to let go of the fact that I’d just crashed her fucking wedding. I hadn’t believed Brady when he’d called me, but the moment I saw her at the end of the aisle, dressed in white, I saw nothing but red.
She threw her arms in the air. “Is that seriously what you’re focused on?”
“Yes,” I said, heat still searing my chest even in the air-conditioned room.
“It’s all fake, Danny.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose and dropped her head. “I’m a fraud, just like this stupid show. It’s a pretend wedding for TV, so they can use it for promoting the show, or whatever. Those are all extras out there, and the officiant isn’t even licensed.”
Fake.
Relief surged through every cell of my body.
Well, damn. In hindsight, I might have overreacted.
I blew out a breath and knocked my forehead with my fist a few times. “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t get married that quickly.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “Then why did you bust in there like that and pull me away?”
“Because I wasn’t taking a chance.”
She rolled her eyes. “You would have interrupted my real wedding like that?”
My brows lifted. “Yes. Every version of you standing at the end of an aisle with the wrong guy ends in me crashing it.”
She stared at me then. It might have just been wishful thinking, but I swore I saw something in her expression soften. “That’s not fair.”
“Yeah, to the other guy,” I said, taking a step closer to her. “Because you won’t love him the way you love me, and I know for a fucking fact that he’ll never love you the way I do.”
She gasped, stumbling backward a little until she hit one of the shelves. I caught her around the waist, pulling her forward to steady her.
“How can you say that to me?” she cried, pushing off my chest to get away from me. I let her go, even though it completely hollowed out my heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and held up her hands like she needed a barrier between us. “This isn’t healthy.”
“No, everything about us is healthy,” I said. “We’re good for each other. I know I’ve been the toxic ass who keeps ruining that, but I’m done. I promise.” I poured every ounce of my resolve into those words. I needed her to see how much I meant them.
She blinked a few times. I was worried I’d see tears. What I hadn’t been prepared for was the detachment I found in her eyes instead. That was worse.
She sighed. “I wish I could believe you—”
Rapid knocks pounded at the closet door, interrupting her.
“Open this up, right now. This is in violation of so many parts of your contract.” Brady’s muffled voice was unfortunately too clear for my liking.
She made a move for the door, but I blocked her.
She shot me a glare. “I have to face them.”
“We aren’t done talking.”
“We have to be. I have a show to finish filming,” she said.
“Seriously? Who cares about the fucking show!”
“Danny, I signed a contract. I don’t get to do whatever I want, like you. If I quit this show, they could sue me. Or worse—take it to the press, where I’m dubbed a bitch who’s hard to work with. It’s not easy being a woman in this industry.”
There she went, people-pleasing all over the place, suppressing all her wants and needs in the hopes of being seen as someone ‘easy to work with.’ She was letting herself get lost again.
A thought crossed through my mind, the kind of idea you only get when you’re out of options. I stepped away from the door and removed the mop blocking the handle. Then I opened it, exposing ourselves to the vultures.
Brady’s face was directly on the other side, so full of rage it looked like the vein in his forehead might burst. “You can’t run off like that!”
“You summoned me here for a scene,” I said calmly. “I think I delivered.”
His lips parted like a gasping fish and he sputtered. “Well, I—not like that. I mean—”
“How about I give you more than just one scene?” I said. “Let me join the show.”
“What?” Trace exclaimed.
I kept my eyes on her as panic rose in her expression. She looked from me to Brady. “You can’t be serious. The show is almost over.”
“And what a shame it would be if it ended without the man you’re supposed to end up with.
” I caught her eyes and mentally pleaded with her to understand, to give me a chance.
I would sacrifice my dignity for her. I’d do it a thousand times over without a second thought.
The only thing that mattered to me was proving myself to her—proving I’d never give up on her.
Brady turned to a wiry-haired woman, who I assumed was another producer. He’d deflated like some cartoon. His face was still red, but the anger had seeped right out of him. “That would be good TV,” he mumbled.
“What about what I want?” Trace asked quietly.
Brady eyed her and then me. “You could always eliminate him.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, could I?” she asked sarcastically.
Brady waved her off as he stepped away from the doorway. “We’ll get this sorted, but in the meantime, get out here where the cameras can see you. And get a mic on her!” he called.
Trace’s shoulders sagged, and she brushed by me to leave.
Before she was fully past me, I gripped her arm lightly with one hand and took her chin with my other, angling it up so she had to face me.
“I never stopped loving you, and I never will,” I whispered, hoping against everything that she’d start to believe me.
She frowned, a little ‘eleven’ carved between her brows. “It’s not about love. I need…I need someone who doesn’t walk away when things get scary or hard. I need someone who fights for me.”
I squeezed her arm. “Trust me. This will be the fight of my life.”