Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The incessant noise and clatter and flashing lights of the casino surround me as I tear through it, weaving without purpose, until finally, far enough away from that fucking chapel, I drop down onto a random slot machine seat.
The old woman in the seat beside me scowls, giving me a venomous look that I can’t figure out.
“That was my machine,” she clips out in the raspiest voice I’ve ever heard before she takes a drag of her ten-foot-long cigarette.
I stare at the machine that shows it was cashed out and then back to her, still confused.
“If you’re going to steal someone’s machine, you can’t just sit there. You have to play.”
Fucking Vegas.
I slip out my wallet and shove a hundred-dollar bill into the machine, raising an eyebrow at her that asks, “Happy now?” She grumbles under her breath but thankfully turns away and I spin on my chair, giving her my back.
I hit a button or two on the machine, and the wheels start spinning, sevens and diamonds and bars and who cares?
I ignore it.
Because I just did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do in all of this.
I lost my head in Georgia.
I watched her walk into Valentino, and then I went off, finding a bench in an unobserved corner and diving straight into my phone. It didn’t take long to find what I was searching for. It took even less time to find all of Ezra’s secrets.
I told her I wasn’t going to back out, but it wasn’t until that moment that I was fully solidified in her scheme. Her ex is a real piece of work, and Georgia needs protection from things she doesn’t even know about. After that, it was too late.
I was even more invested than I was after my call with Grey and Zax last night.
I went and bought an outfit and the rings, seeing that ruby band and knowing that was the one I wanted on her hand, even if I didn’t allow myself to linger on why.
And when I saw her turn—so fucking beautiful it physically hurt to look at her—part of me knew I was screwed.
That feeling only multiplied when I was standing across from her, holding her hand, staring into her teary eyes, and saying I do.
That kiss…
It was meant to be chaste. It was meant to be nothing. But the moment my lips pressed to hers and I tasted the salt of her tears and felt her body trembling against mine, it was like a match to gasoline. It was like I was right back to where I was all those years ago with her.
Every time with her, I’d tell myself it was the last time.
I’d promise myself that. And then, like the addict I was for her, I’d need another hit.
Every time I went to her, I told myself I was simply going to see her to tell her it was over.
Then she’d do something like smile or laugh or touch my arm or say something witty or just fucking look up into my eyes like she could see inside my head and wasn’t bothered by what she found there, and I was powerless to stop myself.
One more time. One more taste. Then I’ll stop.
And here I am, testing that addiction all over again. An alcoholic living in a bar or a junkie in a crack house. Only now, the temptation is stronger than ever having gone so long without her. I’m here to look out for her. I’m here to protect her.
But the one thing I can’t do is fuck or fall in love with my wife.
My wife…
I take in the black band on my left hand, twirling it around and around my finger with my other hand.
The weight of it doesn’t feel as odd or misplaced as I was hoping it would.
I’m married to Georgia and none of it is real, so I focus on the reason behind it.
The reason I said yes in the first place.
I pull out my phone and bring up my text stream with my guys.
Me: It’s done. Georgia and I are officially married.
Asher: Mazel Tov. *Pops champagne*
I roll my eyes but smirk all the same. Thank God for fucking Asher and his inability to be serious. That was exactly what I needed.
The woman lighting a new cigarette from her old one glares at me from her chair and clears her throat loudly, and I groan. For fuck’s sake. I hit the buttons again and return to my phone.
Zax: How’d it go? Georgia okay?
I honestly don’t know because I kissed her like her mouth was the incarnation of the Holy Spirit and I’d just found God and enlightenment all at the same time, and I’m not even a religious man.
Me: She cried, but she’s tough.
Grey: I still can’t believe this. You’re fucking married to my cousin.
Me: It’s not real.
It’s not. Even if I can’t stop thinking about her as my wife.
Callan: Sorry I wasn’t there to be your best man, but it sounds like you did fine without me.
Asher: Dickwad, if anyone was going to be the best man, it was me. I am the best best man ever. I’m just sad I didn’t get to plan your bachelor party. Vegas would have been perfect for it.
Callan: Thank God you didn’t, or we’d all end up arrested and needing Lenox to wipe our records. Again!
Asher: That wasn’t all my fault! Suzie aided and abetted.
Zax: Suuuuure, blame Suzie for you getting wasted and stripping down in public.
Asher: Twat, she dared me!
Grey: What are you? Five. Oh, she dared you. *eye roll emoji*
Callan: I wouldn’t talk, brother. If I recall, you got yourself arrested one drunken night with Suzie.
Grey: *Middle finger emoji*
Asher: Enough with that BS. Thor, how does it feel to be the first one of us to get married? Give us the insider tips. The dos and don’ts of saying I do to an irresistible woman.
Me: You’re an asshole. Do I look like a magazine?
Asher: Tatted and Pierced Hackers Weekly. 100%
I choke out a laugh, rubbing my hand over my mouth and across my forehead. I have no fucking clue what I’d do without these guys other than be more of a recluse than I already am. Their friendship has been the mainstay in my life. The saving grace when I was a hairsbreadth from letting it all go.
And how did I repay their loyalty, friendship, and brotherhood?
By fucking Georgia, keeping it a secret for two goddamn years, and then hurting her.
So this is it. Another round of penance.
I’m doing this for her, but I’m also doing it for them.
Because they would do it for me without ever thinking twice.
Because they didn’t let me go, even when I deserved for them to.
I hit the buttons on the machine again, so I don’t get clubbed with the woman’s cane, and type…
Me: I found stuff. I’ll need a call later. It’s nothing urgent, and I’m handling it. Just… a bit fucked.
Zax: Just tell me what time. You’re three hours back from us, but that doesn’t matter.
Grey: Do you need us to fly out there?
I hit the buttons again, watching the wheels on the machine spin and ping into place, showing me I just won five dollars. Evidently, it’s my lucky day.
Me: No. I’ve got it. We fly back to Boston on Tuesday. If I don’t call you tonight, I will first thing tomorrow.
I tuck my phone into my pocket and lean back against the seat, my eyes scanning the casino, my thoughts scattered, when a flash of white moves in beside me. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I glance up at Georgia, who you would never know was crying or had my hands in her hair not even fifteen minutes ago. There’s not a streak of mascara beneath her eyes, not a hair out of place. She even has her red lipstick reaffixed. As always, she is the vision of perfection.
I turn back to the game, hitting the buttons again. Georgia watches as the machine rolls and then nudges me over a bit on my chair so she can sit on the edge of it, practically right up against me.
“A bit too late for second thoughts.”
I grunt. I’m not having second thoughts. I’m having other thoughts, and those are far more dangerous. She doesn’t know that if love had been enough, I never would have left her, and if broken pieces could ever be made whole again, she would have always been mine.
“Are we okay?” she asks softly, her voice tinted with worry.
“We’re married. How could we not be okay?”
“I suppose we weren’t okay before all of this, but hating you doesn’t sit well with me anymore.
You know, since we’re married now.” I get an arched eyebrow and a wry grin.
“But we have to go upstairs and pretend to be newlyweds. We have to pretend to be in love. Do you think we can do that with each other?”
“You’re the actress, Georgia. I’m only here because I was the last single man standing, and I know how to keep quiet.”
Her mouth twists in annoyance at my petulant tone. “Were you always this sarcastic before, or was I too blinded by my childish infatuation to notice?”
“I didn’t speak before.”
She twists and fully meets my eyes. “You did to me.”
I blink at her, at the assurance in her tone and countenance.
It has my heart racing in my chest. I have no memory of talking to her or anyone at that time in my life.
I was barely existing, and where words were never comfortable for me before, they were impossible then.
I remember being captivated. I remember being obsessed.
I remember not knowing how I’d ever be able to stop.
But talking? Nope.
“We have a cocktail party to attend if you’re done throwing money away on this machine.”
I look around, taking in all the people around us, the cacophony of the machines and boisterous chatter of people, and lean in so only she can hear me. “I need to speak to you about something.”
“Can it wait?”
“Do you want it to?”
She sighs and leans back against me in a way that feels so natural my insides hurt.
She’s over hating me, but I wish she still did.
I wish it weren’t so familiar with her. I wish it didn’t feel so good having her this close.
I’m hoping she’s simply too indifferent toward me to hate me any longer so I can match that, but that’s not how Georgia works.
She’s never indifferent. She wears her heart and her emotions proudly and without apology.