Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
S o far, I was not hating Macon’s low-key bachelor party.
Compared to the few more traditional bachelor parties I’d attended, this one did have its perks.
The first being that I wasn’t wasted, which would seem like a shortcoming to some, but the day was young, and I still had a long list of things I wanted to do to Elena tonight. The second? Since Macon’s best friend happened to be married to one seriously wealthy dude, we were currently cruising up the coast in one sweet-ass boat.
Seriously, this thing was insane. Growing up in Ocracoke, I was used to seeing expensive boats line Silver Lake Harbor, but I’d never actually been on one. With what I’d consider a full apartment below deck and enough room to host a crowd up top, it had to have cost as much as a house.
It practically was.
But it sure beat the ferry, and the sunshine on my face was fucking sublime.
The third? Macon had finally revealed our final destination once we reached land, and I was so fucking pumped.
“Are you for real right now?”
“Yep.” He grinned like a loon.
We’d passed Bodie Island Lighthouse and were coasting along Roanoke Island, the location of the famed Lost Colony.
The tourists loved that shit.
“I didn’t think you were actually serious.”
“Hell yeah, I was. I told you, Marin and I are the real deal,” he said sincerely. “We’ve had this planned for months.”
I patted him on the back as Eli pulled us all into port. “Good for you,” I said. “But I’m warning you now. If you cry, I will totally make fun of you for the rest of your life. And probably make a video.”
He looked me over with an amused expression. “You know, the best man is supposed to be supportive.”
“I am supportive. I’m manning you up so you don’t whine like a little bitch in front of all your friends and the tattoo artist.”
“You know”—he rolled his eyes—“now that you mention it, I do feel manlier.”
“See?”
“Billy and Eli rented out the whole shop for us, so we have the place to ourselves if we want it.” It was like he could see the question on the tip of my tongue. “It’s a good shop. They did a ton of research.”
I smirked at the realization of how well he knew me. “Damn, that’s some good friends.”
“You gonna get anything?” he asked.
And just like that, I had an idea.
“Yeah,” I told him. “But you’re gonna have to help me out.”
“Did you tell her you were doing this?” I asked my brother as the tattoo artist slapped the Saniderm bandage over his fresh ink.
Although he’d originally said he just wanted her name, Macon had thankfully gone for something a bit more creative. On his forearm, in bold script, two words now etched his skin.
Only her.
Below it, their wedding date was inked out in a simple font.
My brother looked down at it and grinned. “Nope.”
“Dude, you’re either gonna get really fucking lucky or she’s going to drown you in pregnancy tears.”
“Hoping for the first one, but probably gonna get a mix of both, honestly.” He laughed. “Her mood has been all over the place lately. One minute, she’s climbing me like a tree, and the next, she’s sobbing over a grocery store commercial. It’s fucking weird.”
“Is it the one about the neighbors coming together for a cookout?” Eli asked, leaning over to check out Macon’s tattoo. “That one gets me every time.”
Most of the guys had opted out of ink today, choosing to just enjoy the day with Macon. But Billy and Eli had taken the opportunity to get their ring fingers done with a simple matching design.
There was a whole lot of sentimentality going on today.
And Macon and I were about to add to it.
“So, you ready for number two? Or do you need a break?” I asked, a challenging note in my voice.
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
I’d given him hell for it, but he’d handled the pain exactly like I’d thought he would. Effortlessly. Macon had probably been trained to handle all sorts of shit in the military. This was nothing.
I gave a heads-up to the tattoo artist, a quiet, burly guy named Mark. He had tattoos from his neck down to his ankles. He was friendly, but for the most part, he kept to himself, never butting in or asking questions.
“Dave is gonna take you so I can go on my break. That all right?” Mark asked, motioning to the younger guy, who’d mostly been behind the counter, messing around on his phone since we had gotten here.
“Yeah, man. It’s all good.” I’d looked up their Instagram accounts, and they were both solid artists with a decent amount of experience. This simple design would be a walk in the park for either of them.
“Why don’t you want to get a bro tat with me?” Taylor asked his brother as Macon and I headed toward the front to grab a quick bite.
Dave needed time to set up so we took advantage and joined everyone congregated around the food. As if renting out an entire tattoo shop wasn’t enough, Billy and Eli had thrown in catering, too. Because why the fuck not?
“Don’t you want to bond?”
“We bond every fucking day.” Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s called owning a business together.”
“I think that might be his way of saying he’s sick of you.” Jake laughed as he stuffed the rest of his pork slider in his mouth.
When I’d given my brother shit about inviting Jake Jameson of all people to his bachelor party, he’d just shrugged and told me it was just a strategic move.
“It’s nice to have a doctor on board,” he’d said.
Was it that hard to admit he just liked the guy? Stubborn asshole.
“I don’t know how he could be,” Taylor offered, grabbing a handful of grapes from a giant platter of fruit. “I’m only there half the time now that we have the hotel. You should have seen the shit Lani made me do for that bachelorette party today. So many fucking flowers.”
“I hope she has a good time,” Macon said, his expression softening as his thoughts turned to Marin.
“She will. Lani pulled out all the stops.”
“Thank you,” Macon said to Taylor before turning to everyone else. “Thanks to all of you. We couldn’t have pulled this wedding off without all of your help.” He spared a glance at Jake. “Even you, asshat.”
Jake raised his water bottle in the air with a grin. “Just here for the food, loser.”
They should just get those matching BFF bracelets and get over themselves already.
“I’m ready for you guys,” Dave announced behind us.
“Don’t twitch, Macon!” Dean joked as we walked away. “I hear that spot can be sensitive.”
“Nah, that’s just your ass,” he said over his shoulder.
“Straight guys making ass jokes?” Eli quipped. “It really is a bachelor party.”
A chorus of laughter followed as Macon and I headed towards Dave’s station. I was in the hot seat first, and we’d already gone over design and placement earlier with Mark. Since most of my arms were already heavily inked, I thankfully hadn’t had to explain to Macon why I needed this particular tattoo out of plain sight.
Although I didn’t think the placement was a concern for him. When I’d told him what I wanted us to get, he’d grown quiet and pulled me into a tight hug. I’d seen him eyeing my Creed tattoo more than once, and I knew this meant a lot to him.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Dave said, plopping down on the seat in front of me.
“Zander,” I offered. “And this is my brother, Macon. He’s the groom.”
“Congrats,” Dave said, although there wasn’t much enthusiasm behind the word. “Show me where you want this again.”
We spent the next several minutes making sure the stencil was exactly right, and then he had me lie down on my side and got to work.
“So, are you ready for Friday? That’s when everyone starts to arrive, right?” I asked my brother, enjoying this bit of time we had by ourselves.
“Marin’s parents and siblings get here on Thursday night. And then we do the rehearsal and shit on Friday.” He nodded his head, his face splitting into a wide grin. “But, yeah, I’m ready. More than ready.”
“And then everything that comes after?”
“You mean the baby?” he asked before letting out a snort. “Fuck no. Not even close. But we’ll figure it out.”
“Just figure it out as you go and hope for the best?” I repeated his words from the coffee shop back to him, making him grin.
“Yep. Although, for this, I might read a few of those baby books, just to give myself a leg up.”
I resisted the urge to laugh, not wanting to move. “Good idea.”
The familiar sting of the tattoo gun bit into my side as Dave worked, and I realized I needed to say something. “I’m leaving the morning after the wedding,” I told him. “I have to be in New York for something; otherwise, I wouldn’t be bailing so soon.”
He held out his hand to silence me. “It’s okay, Zander. You don’t have to feel guilty for having a life and a career. We’ll always be here.”
I swallowed down the jagged lump in my throat. I hoped he meant that.
I had to hand it to Billy and Eli—they sure knew how to throw a party.
Even a sober one.
The boat, the ink shop, the food—it was all top-notch. We’d even managed to pull Dean to the dark side at the very last minute when he finally caved and got some old-movie quote scrawled across his collarbone.
When I’d thrown a confused look at his brother, Taylor had just shrugged and said, “It’s a Cora thing.”
We thanked Dave and Mark profusely and tipped heavily, so they made off with a killing. They took tons of pictures for all of us, and by the time we headed back to the boat, we had just enough sunlight to make it back to Ocracoke.
It was exactly what I’d needed with my brother—time.
Every moment we spent together felt restorative, like the wounds of our past were knitting back together, and I no longer saw him as the man who’d left me.
I saw myself.
An eighteen-year-old kid who would have done anything to get away from a terrible situation, even if it meant leaving everything and everyone behind. I realized now that I’d unfairly placed the blame on my brother, but in reality, our father was the root cause of our pain. His neglect and abuse had driven us both to make decisions we were too young and unprepared to make.
But we’d survived. Life had driven us apart, but we’d survived nonetheless.
And now that we were back together, I’d do anything for this family of mine.
When we docked in the harbor, I drove back to an empty house. Elena wasn’t back from the bachelorette party yet, so I used the free time to take a quick shower. Afterward, I threw on a pair of dark jeans and a T-shirt and headed out to the living room. I had a few emails to respond to, so I took a seat on the couch and typed out my replies. Just as I was finishing, I got a text from Lance.
lance
Ridge went after the blogger, and the article was taken down. Just keep your head down until the concert.
me
Won’t be hard to do in Middle of Nowhere, North Carolina. Thanks.
lance
Can I get a zip code for that?
me
Funny. Have you considered retiring and becoming a comedian?
lance
I have, but my Tilly’s shoe habit is too expensive.
me
I think you mean your shoe habit.
lance
Oh, right. My bad.
The media will eventually die down, but when this officially breaks, be prepared. It’s gonna be a shitstorm. So, just enjoy your brother’s wedding and stay out of sight.
me
Yes, sir.
A shitstorm.
I swallowed audibly. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t known.
Lance and Ridge had been preparing me for what would follow after the official news broke. Since I was relatively unknown, my life would be ripped apart by the press.
Any little crumb. Any piece of the puzzle. All up for grabs.
We’d made it harder for them, keeping my real name hidden behind legal paperwork. But with this level of scrutiny, it was only a matter of time. It would only take one person to reveal my real name.
And when they did…
My stomach churned when I thought about the information they might print.
Dead mother. Alcoholic father. Runaway.
Would journalists come down here and harass my family? Follow them? The thought of Macon and Marin’s perfect little life here getting turned upside down because of me was unfathomable.
This was why I should have stayed away.
The tattoo on my side seemed to burn at that very thought.
You should tell them…
You should tell her…
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this secret. The last few days with Elena had been like a fever dream. Both of us were fucking kidding ourselves if we thought this thing between us was normal.
I’d done the casual thing.
I’d fucking thrived in it, and what I felt for Elena was nowhere near casual. It felt…permanent.
I’d been honest with her in that studio. I had no idea where we were headed. I had no idea where she and I would be in two weeks, let alone two months, but knowing that didn’t make me want to stop.
From that very first kiss in that bridal shop, I had known I was done for.
But I knew the shitstorm my life was headed into in a few weeks. She didn’t.
If she did, would she still be all in? Or would she be slamming on the brakes, ready to walk away?
What a fucking nightmare.
How would I even begin to explain it all?
Hey, so funny story…
I’m about to join one of the biggest bands on the planet, where I’ll be obsessed over, under constant scrutiny, and never be able to go out in public again without being recognized.
Wanna be my girlfriend?
I scrubbed a hand down my face as I reached for the fridge. But before I could get there, Elena walked through the front door. It had only been hours since I’d seen her, but my heart raced at the mere sight of her.
My eyes slowly raked down her body as she closed the door behind her.
“God-fucking-damn,” I murmured. “Is that what one wears to the spa?”
When I’d left this morning, she’d still been in a robe, blow-drying her hair after we spent far too long getting it wet in the shower.
She was wearing green again, but the fabric stretched tight across all her luscious curves. If someone asked me how to explain her dress, the only thing I’d get right was the way it clung to her body and the fucking hot-as-hell triangular cut-out that exposed her stomach.
“It was a bachelorette party,” she corrected me with a grin. “And I only had it on half the time. The rest of the time, I was naked.”
Well, hell.
She placed her small Louis Vuitton bag on the table by the door. It was different from the one I’d seen her with yesterday, and I secretly wondered just how many she’d packed for her three-week vacation.
Did she collect purses like I collected guitars?
If so, we might have a storage problem in the future.
Fuck, why am I thinking about the future already?
“How was the bachelor party?” she asked, taking a step toward me.
“Surprising,” I answered, making her brow quirk. “Eli and Billy rented out a tattoo shop for the day.”
Her eyes widened. “Please tell me Macon got a tattoo?”
I nodded, pulling out my phone to show her the pictures.
Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my God, Marin’s gonna lose her shit.”
“In a good way though, right?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s probably stripping him naked this very minute.”
That’s a visual I didn’t need .
She swiped through a few more of the pictures before pausing. “What’s this?” she asked, seeing a photo of Macon and me, bare-chested and side by side.
She didn’t even wait for me to answer and just lifted my shirt to inspect it herself.
I laughed at her lack of patience. Her fingers trailed down the five letters that spelled my last name. They ran down my left rib cage in bold, blocky lettering.
She looked back at the picture and smiled. “You’re a good brother, Zander.”
“I share a tattoo with my adopted family. Seemed fitting that Macon and I have one, too, considering he practically raised me after my mom died.”
“Well, it’s really sweet, and I know it means a lot to him.”
“It means a lot to me, too,” I told her.
“Did anyone else get anything?”
I scrolled through the rest of the pictures, showing her Eli’s and Billy’s ring tattoos. She gushed over how cute they were, and then when I showed her the movie quote Dean got, her eyes lit up.
“ The Princess Bride !”
“You know it?” I looked at the three words everyone was so obsessed about. As you wish. I didn’t get it.
“You don’t?”
“I didn’t exactly watch a lot of movies, growing up.”
Her lips pressed together, and her expression softened. “We’re gonna have to add that to the list.”
“The list?”
“Of things we’re eventually going to do together.”
Eventually ? It was one word, but it brought so much hope with it.
“Okay.”
I slipped my phone into my pocket and reached for her. She curled her arms around my neck and let out a contented sigh.
“I believe we are on our own for the rest of the night.”
My eyes darkened as my grip tightened around her. “The whole night? Damn, what will we do with ourselves?”
“Karaoke bar?” she mused.
“No.” I shook my head. “Never again. My ears won’t survive. But I wouldn’t mind going out.”
Her brow rose. “Really? After being winked at by the coffee shop owner, you want to go back out into society?”
I shrugged. “We’re only going to be here a few more days, and I want to take you out on a date. They’ll gossip regardless.”
She stilled in my arms, and I realized what I’d said. Our time was running woefully short.
“About that…” I should just tell her. Fuck the contract. Fuck everything. All that mattered was her.
She placed her hand on my chest. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she told me. “I know we need to—and soon.” Really soon. “But right now, I just want to enjoy an evening out. And then maybe an even better evening in.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
I wanted to argue with her.
I wanted to make her listen because if I didn’t do this right now, I wasn’t sure I’d have the courage later.
But instead, I just nodded and swallowed down my secret in silence.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked her as we waited for our food.
We’d decided to go back to Portofino since neither of us had really gotten the chance to eat much the night of the engagement party. The place was fairly busy tonight, and we were lucky to have gotten a table.
Although was it really luck when you knew the owners?
“You can ask me anything in the world, and you go with what’s your favorite color?” A hint of amusement crossed her face.
The low lighting and the intimate setting made Portofino a perfect date spot. Our table was situated in a corner, giving us the illusion of privacy.
I shrugged. “I want to know everything about you. Besides, it’s an important thing to know about a person. What if your favorite color is sad beige? I can’t marry a monster, Elena. Think of the children. Kids need color in their lives.”
She snorted out a laugh, shaking her head. I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached out and took her hand in mine.
So much better.
“Says the man who dresses in all black.”
“I wore gray yesterday,” I scoffed. “And that Led Zeppelin shirt I had on the other day totally had a rainbow on it.”
“Well, to answer your very important question”—she grinned—“I guess I’d say it’s red. It makes me feel powerful. But I do look pretty damn good in black.”
“Yeah, you do,” I agreed, remembering her pinned against that mirror in that black satin gown. Fucking imprinted in my brain. “I think you look pretty damn amazing in every color, Louie.” I made a point to drag my eyes over the bodice of her green dress.
I was really looking forward to taking that off later.
But to be fair, there wasn’t a single article of Elena’s wardrobe I hadn’t enjoyed taking off of her. Or ripping off her. Or dragging off with my teeth…
“Okay, here’s a better one,” I challenged her, remembering something from a previous conversation. “You’ve mentioned bad dates. Tell me about the worst one you’ve ever been on.”
“Oh my God,” she drawled. “There are so many.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “When I broke up with Chad after several years?—”
“Several years?” I gulped. I didn’t think I’d dated someone longer than a month.
“Yeah.” She waved a dismissive hand.
Meanwhile, my brain was still stuck on the words— several years . Not just a couple of years, but several .
“It sounds like a big deal, but believe me, it wasn’t. I was busy. He was busy. I think we just enjoyed having someone on standby.” She blanched. “That makes me sound horrible, doesn’t it?”
“No, you’re just being honest.” I let out a breath of relief. “And if you want the truth, I’d rather have you confess to having a long-term fuck buddy who meant very little to you than some tragic romance you weren’t over.”
“Don’t worry.” She patted my hand. “I was over it long before we ended it.”
“Good. Now, tell me about that date.”
“God, okay. So, as I was saying, after Chad, I tried dating apps for the first time. I know a lot of people have claimed they met their soulmates or whatever this way, but I call bluff.”
I laughed.
“Either that or I’m doing it wrong because every guy I’ve ever met through a dating app has been a total dud.”
Five minutes and a story about the professor and a serious case of déjà vu, I was laughing into my napkin so I didn’t disturb the other tables around us.
“It’s not funny!” She feigned a slap on my shoulder. “I didn’t even tell you about the guy who asked me for Uber money.”
“It’s a little funny,” I argued. “But I’m glad those guys were assholes, Elena.”
“What? Why?”
“Because they all led you straight to me,” I told her. “And believe me, I will never forget a single night with you.”
She bit her bottom lip, and my whole body reacted.
“You have quite the way with words sometimes, Zander Green. Have you ever considered singing?”
“Only in the shower and for very pretty girls,” I lied, hating the fact that I couldn’t tell her.
I wasn’t just joining Manic as their lead guitarist; I was also providing backup vocals. It was the first time I’d ever get to use my voice professionally, and I was fucking thrilled.
And I couldn’t tell her.
“Tell me where you’ve been on tour,” she said as if she’d read my train of thought. “Is there anywhere that you just absolutely fell in love with?”
I thought about it as I took a sip of wine. I wasn’t usually a wine guy, but Elena had insisted I’d love it if she chose, and, damn, was she right.
“I’ve only done a few tours outside the US, and they weren’t until recently, when I’d made more of a name for myself. But I’ve been all over the US. When I first started, it was shitty bands with shitty venues and even shitter buses.”
She laughed.
“And the money was shit, too, if you were wondering. But eventually, I built up a decent reputation, and the stages got bigger. That’s when I really started to enjoy the traveling part of it—when I didn’t have to hole up in crap hotels and save every penny. But anywhere on the West Coast is nice. New England is great, too. I love anywhere with a beach.”
She scrunched her nose, and I chuckled. I knew exactly how Elena felt about beaches.
“There are some beaches in the world where overwhelming humidity isn’t a thing.”
“I’ve heard of these kinds of beaches.” She nodded her head. “Sounds intriguing.”
“Yeah?” I could think of at least a dozen beaches I could take her to. “We’ll make a beach lover of you yet.”
So many possibilities hung in the air as we stared at each other.
But before either of us could say anything more, the waiter came by with our main courses, and as we began to eat, an amicable silence fell across the table.
It was oddly comforting how at ease I felt around her. Sometimes, maintaining comfortable silence with someone was infinitely harder than sharing empty words. Finding someone else who understood that was a rarity.
I was coming to find that Elena, as a whole, was a rarity—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to let go of.
“What’s your favorite part about being a lawyer?” I asked, realizing how little she actually talked about her career.
I’d practically bored her to death with my love of music and the life I’d made of it, but when it came to her day job…crickets.
She took a sip of wine before answering, “I like the financial freedom it gives me.”
“Anything else?”
She bit nervously at her bottom lip. “It keeps me busy.”
I studied her for a moment as she pushed a tomato around her mostly empty plate. “You don’t like your job, do you?”
She froze in place, staring at that freaking tomato like her life depended on it. It wasn’t until I reached out and touched her hand that she settled slightly, her shoulders sagging until her eyes finally met mine.
“No,” she finally said. “I hate it.”
“Have you ever said that out loud?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’m terrified to say it too loud in case my mother might be listening all the way from Texas.” She said it in jest, but there was an undertone of anxiety in her voice.
“You really think she would care if you did something else?” Before I realized how that came out, I found myself scrambling. “That’s not what I meant?—”
“No, I know you weren’t saying it to be mean.” She let out a sigh. “She wanted Daniel to be the lawyer, but he went into IT. So, I foolishly tried to fill that dream for her, thinking it would win her approval.” She looked down at the table. “Clearly, that was a wasted effort, and now, I’m stuck doing something I’m quite good at, but really hate.”
“So then, do something else,” I told her. “Do something for you.”
She snorted. “You make it sound easy.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” I agreed. “I’m sure it’d be really fucking hard. But it beats continuing to do something you hate for someone who doesn’t even deserve it.”
“I once told Marin…” She stopped herself, her cheeks actually staining red.
“You once told Marin what?” I prodded. “It’s got to be good. I don’t remember the last time I saw you blush.”
“I’m going to regret this.” She pressed her lips together and took a breath. “I once told Marin—over a copious amount of alcohol, mind you—that I might want to write a book. Someday.”
God, she was cute when she was embarrassed.
But she really had no reason to be.
“Yeah?” I perked up, leaning forward on the table. “What kind? Kinky romance?”
She rolled her eyes. “You would love that.”
“I really would. Can you imagine the kind of research required for a book like that? I’d be so down with that.”
A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m sure you would be, but no…no romance. Sorry, Trouble. I was leaning more toward thrillers.”
“That research sounds less intriguing.” I laughed. “But that’s actually pretty perfect, Elena. I could see you doing that.”
“Yeah?” She seemed about five percent more on board with the idea because of my enthusiasm. It was a start.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You could travel, try new things, finally slow down.”
She swallowed as I met her gaze, hoping she could read between the lines of what I was trying to say.
You could travel…with me.
You could try new things…with me.
You could finally slow down….with me.
“If only life were that simple,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “If only.”
Unknown number
You need to come by the shop this morning before we open.
me
Who the hell is this?
Unknown number
Millie. Now, get the fuck over here.
me
I think you must have me confused with your husband. I’m not at your beck and call.
Millie
No, but you are on my shit list.
me
And why is that?
Millie
Because I know your little secret, Mr. Tate.
Fuuuck.
me
I’ll be right there.
Millie
Good boy.
It was the day of the rehearsal dinner, and this was the last thing I needed to be dealing with. I’d thought I’d managed to stay just under the radar these last three weeks in Ocracoke.
Obviously, I was wrong.
How had Millie found out? What did she want? I was already being dragged down by the weight of one secret. I didn’t need any more.
My gut twisted as I quietly got out of bed, not wanting to wake Elena up. There was nothing I wanted more than to stay in that bed, but fear pushed me into action, and I hastily put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my keys and wallet, and headed for the door.
I wanted to believe Millie had good intentions. But I also knew the prospect of fame and fortune could make even the best of people do terrible things.
Millie had sent me the name of the trendy clothing and accessory shop she owned along the main drag. I’d driven past it with Hendrix and recognized it from my childhood as the old Beachcombers.
It took only minutes to get there. Since it was still early, the parking lot was empty. I quickly parked and headed toward the door. I expected it to be locked, but with a little shove, it gave way with a perky ding , announcing my arrival.
It was a lot nicer than the Beachcombers I remembered—that was for sure. The clothing was a mixture of beach attire, ranging from bathing suits and sandals to more everyday stuff—dresses and shorts. There was everything from candles to jewelry and bath salts.
Elena would love this place.
I found Millie and Aiden standing behind the large wood counter. His arms were around her waist, sliding dangerously close to her denim-clad ass, and while they weren’t in a compromising position, I definitely felt the need to avert my eyes.
Millie let out a laugh before she turned. “Oh, good. You’re here.”
“Well, you beckoned,” I deadpanned, making Aiden cough under his breath. He moved down the counter and began sorting a box of small, carved ornaments, placing them on a display.
I guess he’s staying then…
Millie leaned over the counter, staring at me with an appraising look.
I folded my arms across my chest and just stared back. “So, you know?”
A smug grin spread across her face. “I’ve known for a while.”
I blanched. “How long is a while?”
“Day after the engagement dinner.” She shrugged as she began folding a large stack of shirts. “Saw it online. Some of us on this island actually do pay attention to shit like that.”
“You mean celebrity gossip?”
She shrugged again. “I was pretty damn stunned when I saw it. I’d just seen you at the engagement dinner, and then the very next day, your face was on my favorite gossip blog.”
“A gossip blog, love? Really?” Aiden chimed in.
“Hey, don’t judge me.” She looked over at her husband. “Not all of us are into nonfiction and art magazines.”
“But your descriptions of the art are just so…” His mouth quirked, making her roll her eyes.
She turned back to me, her blonde hair swishing behind her shoulder. “He likes to listen to audiobooks, but magazines are tricky ’cause he can’t see the pictures, so he makes me read the articles and then try and describe the photos,” she explained. “He still won’t let me forget the sculpture I said looked like a turtle.”
“No,” he argued, an amused expression painting his face. “You said it looked like a giant turtle with a dildo stuck up its arse.”
She snorted. “Same thing.”
I double-blinked.
Why am I here?
“Anyway, I didn’t say anything at the coffee shop that day because I thought maybe you and Macon were both playing dumb for my benefit—which I’d understand,” she explained with a wave of her hand. “But yesterday at the bachelorette party, it became abundantly clear that you hadn’t told anyone because Elena doesn’t seem to have a clue. No one is that good of an actor.”
I grimaced.
“I can’t tell them.” The words rushed out of my mouth. “I signed an NDA.”
She pinned me with her gaze as the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. “You can’t tell anyone?”
I shook my head. “I might have been able to tell Macon if he also signed an NDA since he’s family, but?—”
“Then, he’d have to keep it from Marin.”
“Yeah.”
How could I ask my brother to keep something like that from his fiancée? No, not just ask—legally bind him to keep his mouth closed.
It wasn’t even a solution I’d considered. Not one I’d even bothered asking Saul about.
“So, what was your plan, Zander? To just not say anything and let her find out when everyone else does? Or were you not planning for this to go past the wedding?”
“I don’t know, okay?” I shoved my hands in my hair. “I don’t know what the hell I was going to do. I didn’t plan for this to happen.”
“Don’t pull that shit,” she scoffed. “I was with you in that coffee shop. This was completely premeditated. You knew exactly what stakes were involved when you hooked up with her.”
“Yes, but I didn’t expect to?—”
I choked on my own words as she stared at me until, suddenly, her eyes widened.
“Oh shit. You love her.”
“I—” Fuck .
The realization hit me like a lightning bolt to the skull.
Somehow, over the past few weeks, she’d become part of me.
I loved seeing her in the morning, leaning against the kitchen counter in my T-shirt, drinking coffee.
I loved the sight of her ridiculously expensive handbag by the front door because I knew it meant she was home.
I loved the way she called out my name when I was buried deep inside her.
I simply loved her.
“Millie, love, did you give the poor man a heart attack? Why is he so silent?”
“I think he just had an epiphany.”
“Ah.” Aiden chuckled. “Feels kind of like a swift kick to the balls, doesn’t it?”
“A little, yeah.” My voice came out a little shaky.
“So, what are you going to do?” Millie asked, bringing my focus back, even though my mind was still reeling.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Part of me just wants to say fuck it and tell her.”
“And if anyone found out?”
I frowned. “I don’t know. I’d like to say the guys in the band would be understanding, but the last thing I want to do is break their trust before I’ve barely had a chance to earn it. They’ve already been through enough with Mitch.”
“You can’t be loyal to one without betraying the other.”
“Pretty much.”
She let out a long sigh. “Well, I thought I’d be a lot madder than this, but I can see how hard this has been for you.”
“Do you think it was wrong of me to get involved with her?”
“Wrong? Probably not the word I would use. Reckless? Yes.” She turned her head toward her husband. “But we’re proof that, sometimes, you can’t help who you fall in love with.”
“No matter how hard you try,” Aiden emphasized.
“You might not be able to tell her about the band, but you can tell her something far more important. Something that will make a difference when the news finally does come out.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’re right,” I answered. “I’ve got to go.”