17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Ryan
“ W hat do you mean, there was a mixup?” I ask the front desk clerk through clenched teeth. We’ve been traveling for more than a day and I’m exhausted.
“Only one room was booked,” he says, staring at the computer screen.
“That can’t be right. I clearly remember booking two rooms,” Hadley says.
I cut off the clerk when he opens his mouth to argue. “Please, just give us an extra room.” I don’t know how this happened, and I don’t care. All I want to do is check in, get in a shower to wash off the grime from the trip, and call Aspen. I called her during our layover in New York, and then again a couple of times while we waited in Amsterdam. She hasn’t answered once or returned any of my texts. I have this uneasy feeling churning in my gut. She was upset about this trip, but I thought we sorted it out and she understood why I had to do it.
“I’m sorry, we have no rooms available,” he says, giving me an apologetic look.
“What do you mean, there are no rooms available?” I say, looking at him blankly. Surely that can’t be. This resort is huge. “There has to be something.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s our peak season and we’re fully booked.”
I detect a hint of impatience in his voice and I glance behind me at the people waiting to be checked in. We’re holding up the queue, but I don’t care. Sharing a room with Hadley is taking things a step too far.
“Not even a single room?”
“I’m afraid not. Sir, our Deluxe Room can easily accommodate two people.” He glances at Hadley and I realize she’s standing pressed up against me. Taking a step to the side, I look at him pointedly.
“The size of the room is not the issue. We need two rooms.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” He shrugs helplessly.
I turn to Hadley when she tugs on my arm. “Ryan, it’s no big deal. We’ve shared a bed before.”
“This is different.” I turn back to the clerk. “What is the soonest you can get me a room?”
I wait impatiently while he clicks away at his computer. “We have a family checking out in three days.”
“I’ll take it,” I say, handing him my card.
“Sir, it’s a suite with two rooms, so it’s more expensive than your current room.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take it.” Even if I’ll be paying the damn thing off for the next year.
Fuming, I ignore Hadley’s exclamations of how pretty everything is as we walk to our room. The one we will be sharing for two nights.
Walking inside, I give the big king-sized bed a dirty look which has Hadley rolling her eyes.
“I can’t see how this is different,” she mutters, rolling her suitcase to the corner.
“Seriously?” I look at her like she’s lost her mind. “Aspen will be furious when she finds out we’ll be sharing a room. And she’ll have a right to.”
“She knows we’re just friends.”
“That’s not the point, Hadley, and you know it. I will be sharing a bed with another woman.”
“Then we just don’t tell her. It’s only two nights.”
I stop dead in my tracks and turn to her. “You want me to lie to Aspen?”
“No, not lie. Just don’t tell her.”
An oily feeling slithers through me. “That’s the same thing.” I learned that the hard way.
“It’s not! Damn, Ryan. Why create drama because of an honest mix-up? Can’t we just enjoy our holiday? Look, let’s not fight. We’re tired and crabby from the long flight. Let’s just get cleaned up and get something to eat. We’ll both feel better.”
Nodding, I sink on the bed—the one I’ll be sharing with Hadley—and drop my head in my hands. Everything’s a mess.
The shower comes on in the bathroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Hadley’s been a constant by my side since we’ve left, and it’s felt cloying. It’s not at all how I thought I would feel. Besides the issues with her parents, things between Hadley and I have always been easy and free from drama.
It was why I married her. I thought that was how a relationship was supposed to be. But it wasn’t long before I started feeling that something was missing. Our relationship was easy. Hadley was always happy to fall in line with my plans. My feelings. My wants. There was never pushback from her side.
And it bothered me. I wasn’t sure why until I realized it was because it was too easy. There was no spark. No passion. I was happy that she was there, but I didn’t crave her. She didn’t make me feel as if I couldn’t breathe without her. And I wanted that. That’s when I knew I’d made a mistake and when I sat down and had a talk with her; it was once again easy. She didn’t fight for our marriage, and our divorce was easy and painless, just like our relationship. We easily slid back into our role as friends, and we were both happy.
And then I met Aspen, and she was all the things I wanted and more. I loved the way she called me on my shit. I loved the way she moaned when I was inside her, her voice, damn her whole body on fire for me, leaving me no doubt that she craved me the same way I craved her. There isn’t anything about her I don’t love. And now I have to call her and tell her I’m sharing a bed with another woman, because there’s no way I’m lying to her about it, even by omission. No matter how platonic it is, it’s wrong and I’ll shoulder her anger and disappointment because it would be justified.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I take a deep breath and dial her number. “ Fuck, I hope she answers ,” I mutter while running my hand through my hair. At this point, all the anger in the world would be worth just hearing her voice. Just before it goes to voicemail, the ringing stops, but it stays silent.
“Aspen?”
There’s a beat of silence before her voice comes down the line. “Hey.”
“I’m so glad you answered,” I rush out, my body sagging. Damn, just hearing her voice has me feeling better. “I’ve been worried.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been a bit busy.”
Busy doing what? “We’re at the resort,” I whisper. “I miss you.”
“Great.” Great? That’s all she’s going to say?
“I miss you,” I repeat, everything inside me willing her to say it back because I need to hear it. I need the reassurance that we’re okay.
“Here we go.” I hear a voice in the background.
“Thanks, Piper.” She’s with Piper, so at least she’s not alone.
There’s a bit of fumbling, and then I hear Piper’s voice again, asking if she wants another one.
“Where are you?” I ask, feeling like she’s forgotten I’m on the phone with her.
There’s a long pause before she answers. “At…home. We’re doing tequila shots,” she mumbles, and I wince. Things must be bad if she’s drinking tequila.
“I miss you,” I say again. Third time’s the charm, right?
My concern spikes when she sniffles but stays silent.
Before I can ask if everything’s okay, the bathroom door opens, and my eyes shoot to Hadley, who walks out wrapped in a towel. I’m so shocked that for a moment I forget I’m on the phone.
“Fuck, Hadley. Put on some clothes.”
“Just turn your back,” she says, throwing me a wink over her shoulder.
My heart sinks when a choked sob echoes through the phone.
“Baby, it’s not what it—”
“You still sleep on the left side of the bed, right? I’ll take the right,” Hadley says, her words poisoned arrows shooting straight for their target. The silence on the phone is deafening.
“Aspen,” I whisper, my heart lodged somewhere in my throat.
“I have to go. See you around, Ryan.”
What. The. Fuck? I look at my phone in disbelief. She hung up on me. And what did she mean by “see you around”? That’s something you tell an acquaintance, not your boyfriend. Why did it sound so final?
I immediately call her back, but the phone goes straight to voice mail. I try again, and then again, both times with the same result.
Suddenly furious and panicked, I jump up and round on Hadley.
“What the fuck did you do that for?”
I clutch a hand to my chest. The pain in my chest is so intense, it feels as if I’m getting a fucking heart attack.
“What?” Hadley sputters, taking a step back.
“You did that on purpose! You knew she’d hear you. She didn’t need to find out that way!”
“What’s the big deal? You said you didn’t want to hide anything from her.”
Her words might be innocent enough, but there’s a look on her face. A look that contradicts what her words are saying. The Mr. Hyde to her Dr. Jekyll words. It’s a lurk in her eyes, a twist on her lips, an angle to her chin.
I stare at her as every interaction we had since she’s been back plays out in my mind. How easily I fell back into the role of comforting her. How my misplaced guilt allowed me to put her before everyone. Even before the most important person in my life—Aspen. And how I fucking allowed it to happen.
“You took advantage of me,” I mutter, feeling like the biggest fool to have ever lived. “This has been your plan all along. To break up Aspen and I.” I wait for her to deny my claim, but the look on her face has firmed. She’s completely unapologetic.
“I did what I had to do. I needed you to open your eyes and see that she’s not right for you.”
“And what? You’re right for me?” I sneer.
“Yes! It’s always been you and me. We grew up together. We went to prom together. College, graduation, being married—it’s always been you and me. She,”—she spits the word as if it’s distasteful—“doesn’t know you like I do. She can’t give you what you need. I can.”
“No. I’ve always been there for you. Always, Hadley!” I shout the last two words. “This is the first time I’ve ever needed you to be there for me, and instead you stab me in the back.”
She flinches as if I’ve struck her and I can’t find it in me to care.
“That’s not true. This is me being here for you. Marrying Aspen will be the single biggest mistake of your life. Why can’t you see that?”
“No, my single biggest mistake was marrying you. ”
Her head shakes. “No. It wasn’t being married that was wrong. It was the timing.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? We both agreed to the divorce.”
“Think about it, Ryan. We were so young when we got married. I was happy. I knew you were it for me. But you weren’t ready, and I was scared you’d end up hating me because of it. So I agreed. I knew you needed to live a little bit, so I left, giving you time and space to do that until you were ready to settle down. I never had any doubt that when you were ready, you’d come back to me.” Her eyes are pleading, begging me to understand.
“I feel like I don’t know you,” I say in disbelief, unable to comprehend her actions.
She rushes forward and grabs my hand, placing it on her chest. “You do know me, Ryan. You’ve been my best friend almost my whole life.”
“I don’t,” I say, flinging her grip off and taking a step back. “If I was your best friend, you’d want what was best for me. Not this,” I spit out, gesturing at her towel-clad body.
“I’m what’s best for you! Don’t you realize? You’ve been choosing me every day since I got into town. It comes naturally to you. To us. What does that tell you?” she cries, and before I can stop her, she drops her towel.
I spin around. “Put some fucking clothes on,” I bellow, reaching up and fisting my hair. How could I have been so blind? So stupid? There’s rustling behind me, but I keep staring at the wall, my thoughts roughly 3,200 miles away. Fuck, I’ve been a fool. I jump when a hand touches my back, and spin around, backing up.
“Don’t touch me.” She visibly flinches at the coldness in my voice.
“Ryan, please.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and a few days ago, even yesterday, it would have moved me, but now I feel nothing. “I love you and I know you love me,” she says with a sob. “Please, just give us a chance. It used to be so good between us. It can be, again.”
My head’s shaking before she’s even done talking. “I did love you. As a friend. Now…now your manipulation and my stupidity have cost me everything.” The words hurt, but every single one of them is true. Not only have I lost someone who I’ve always thought of as my best friend, but this sick feeling tells me I’ve lost the only woman I have truly loved.
I need to get out of here. I need to get back home, throw myself at Aspen’s feet, and beg for forgiveness. Grabbing my suitcase, I turn to the door, but Hadley’s there, blocking it.
“Get out of my way.”
“Don’t go,” she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Stay, please. I don’t want to lose you.”
I shake my head. “You’ve already lost me. I will never forgive you for your lies and manipulation. Please, get out of my way.” Clenching my fists, I wait for her to move. I don’t want to touch her because I’m scared of what I’ll do in anger. Everything is screaming at me to get out of here. To get back home to Aspen.
Her shoulders drop in defeat and a sob rips out of her, but she steps to the side. Outside the door, I pause.
“When you get back, don’t try to see me. Don’t call me. It would be better if you went straight back to London.” I don’t look at her while I say this. I can’t.