Chapter 6 #2
He was talking, but I had to tune him out. Cuz what the fuck? A few hours ago, I had been on a date with a nice, thoughtful man, and now, here I was, having my marriage planned to another. There was no way.
“I can’t—” I started.
He gave me a look I’d never seen from him before. Forceful, kind of cold, like what he was about to say wouldn’t be denied.
“You will, Theory. We getting married. And you can be mad all you want right now. I can deal with that cuz in the end, you gon’ be happy, milaya. I’ma make sure of it,” he vowed.
I shook my head, my breath picking up as my brain registered what he was saying. I had no choice. I hated the feelings that came with that, hated the uptick in my breathing, the swirling thoughts in my head, the sudden weakness and shaking of my body.
“You expect me to marry you in a few days? You not even asking. You not even—”
My words stopped abruptly as my ability to draw in oxygen dwindled. My head spun, and I leaned forward. I was vaguely aware of Targen moving, squatting in front of me, and grabbing my hand before I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Count backward from twenty with me, milaya,” he instructed softly, placing my hand over his heart.
I nodded, even though he started aloud without me. By the time he reached twelve, the steady beat of his heart had calmed me enough to recite the numbers with him shakily. By the time we reached three, I could finally open my eyes.
And then, there we were, staring at each other, my hand held against his heart. He’d helped me avoid the full-fledged anxiety attack.
Like the first time we met.
Our breathing was in sync.
Like the first time we met.
But I couldn’t let myself fall.
Like the first time we met.
“Theory, please believe I always meant to do this the right way, but time and circumstances don’t allow. This statement… public, out loud… if I didn’t think this was the best way to protect you and your family, to keep y’all safe…” he said, voice gravelly.
Great. A husband who’s marrying me mostly for strategic purposes. Just what I’ve always wanted, I thought.
But my family. I was tired of their paying for my poor decisions.
“I… I need to think. And I want my phone,” I said.
“Not yet, malyshka. Once we’re married.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? Ev’s probably a nervous wreck—”
“I’m sure she knows what’s going on by now,” he interjected.
My mouth dropped. That meant…
“Who knows? Besides Real. Who knows?” I demanded.
He sighed.
“Tell me!” I demanded.
“Prime. Ajani. Braeden.”
Each name intensified the burning anger, the sense of betrayal inside me. Real, as his best friend, was somewhat understandable, but the rest were supposed to be my people, and they were conspiring against me? A bitter laugh spilled from me, and I snatched my hand away.
“Theory, don’t take it like that. They just—”
“Assume that the big, bad men know what’s best for me? I’m sick of that. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” I announced, standing and brushing past him.
“Yeah, just one more thing, then.”
Targen stood, too, and I watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a signature blue box.
He opened it, and I gaped at the huge, emerald-cut diamond, surrounded by a halo of yellow diamonds, set in a diamond-inlaid, platinum band.
It was as traditional—if extravagant—as engagement rings got.
My eyes flew to his, and he gave me a little smile.
“A little old-fashioned. Like my girl,” he said, taking it out of the box and grasping my left hand.
I had no idea what made me let him slide it on. He nodded his approval before speaking again.
“It ain’t coming off. Ever.”
Still speechless, I studied the ring, its brilliance evident even in the muted lamp light. My eyes watered. It was beautiful. How could I help loving it? I should take it off. I would take it off. Just… not now.
“Let’s go to bed. We can talk more later,” he murmured.
“I’m not—I’m not sleeping with you,” I managed to choke out around the lump in my throat.
“I won’t touch you, but my wife sleeps with me, shorty.”
“I’m not your wife.”
He tilted his head to the side, a smirk curving his lips. “Good practice for when you inevitably will be.”
Oh, okay. I could show him better than I could tell him.
Last night’s adrenaline had definitely worn off, and I could feel myself dragging.
I was ready to sleep, no doubt. But Targen need not think he was calling all the shots.
I marched into the sitting room and curled up on the couch, pulling the throw off the back and settling it over my exhausted body.
I ignored his soft chuckle. Instead, I wrapped the night’s feelings—fear, anger, confusion, betrayal—around me, protection from the pull I still felt toward his Casper the Un-friendly Ghost ass.
Some time later, when I was somewhere in the haze between sleep and wakefulness, strong arms slipped under me, lifting my thick form effortlessly.
“Targen,” I murmured the protest even as I shifted and curled into him.
The softest kiss brushed my forehead.
“I told you, milaya. My wife sleeps with me.”