Chapter 12
twelve
. . .
Marco
I stumbled into my hotel room, my head pounding with a mix of alcohol, adrenaline, and pure fucking confusion. One minute I’d been dancing with Meghan at her brother’s wedding. The next, I was in a twisted threesome with her and Wick.
This was not how I’d planned for the night to go. Sure, I’d wanted to rile Wick up. And yeah, I’d hoped to get Meghan alone and convince her to give me a real shot. But instead, I’d pushed them together. Forced them to face the depth of their feelings for each other. And in the process, I’d inserted myself into their fucked up dynamic and I couldn’t see a way to extract myself. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
I loosened my tie and poured myself a glass of overpriced whiskey from the minibar. What had I been thinking, taunting Wick like that? Daring him to make a move on Meghan right in front of me?
I’d seen the way he looked at her, like she was the center of his goddamn universe. And I’d been jealous. Insanely, irrationally jealous. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted Meghan to look at me that way. But I’d blown it. I’d pushed her into Wick’s arms and made myself the odd man out. The casual fuck buddy who could never compete with the intensity of their history.
I drained my glass and slumped onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. How had I let myself get so tangled up in this mess? I didn’t do feelings. I didn’t do drama. I kept things light, casual, uncomplicated.
Until last year. When Meghan and I reunited for the first time since college and fell into bed together. It had been better than I ever imagined. The way she’d moved beneath me, the sounds she’d made as I’d driven her higher and higher. It was branded into my brain.
Sleeping with Meghan Price had been explosive, cathartic, fucking life-altering. But in the harsh light of day, we’d both retreated back into our carefully constructed personas. Meghan, the untouchable socialite. Me, the charming playboy. Neither of us willing to admit we wanted something more. But somewhere along the way, I’d broken that cardinal rule. I’d let myself fall for her.
Seeing Meghan with Wick, watching the way she melted into his touch, it awakened something dark and possessive in me that I didn’t know how to handle.
A sudden knock interrupted my brooding. I frowned, glancing at the clock. Who the hell would be bothering me at this hour?
I hauled myself off the bed and padded to the door, yanking it open with a scowl. And there she was. Meghan. Even in her rumpled bridesmaid dress, her hair mussed, mascara streaking down her cheeks, she was a goddamn vision.
“Meg? What are you doing here?”
It sounded harsher than I meant it to. She flinched, wrapping her arms around herself. “I...I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered. “Wick, he told me to go. Again.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Of course he had. Wick Friedman, always too fucking noble for his own good. Too afraid to go after what he really wanted.
I should have felt vindicated, triumphant even. But seeing the raw pain on Meghan’s face, all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest.
“Come in,” I said, stepping aside to let her pass. She walked into the room, her shoulders hunched and her steps unsteady. I watched as she sank onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her fingers. “I shouldn’t have come here. I just...I didn’t want to be alone.”
I sat down next to her. “It’s fine, Meg. You know I’m always here for you.”
The words were bitter on my tongue. I wasn’t sure I could be what she needed right now. A shoulder to cry on. A sympathetic ear. Not when my own feelings were still chafing. But seeing her huddled on my bed, so small and broken, something in me cracked. I only hesitated a moment before wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders. “Hey,” I said, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “Talk to me. What happened with Wick?”
Her breath shuddered. “He said...he said we can’t be together. That it’s too complicated, too messy. That he won’t betray Emmett.”
“He’s an idiot,” I tightened my arm around her. “If he can’t see how amazing you are, how fucking lucky he is to have a shot at something real with you, then he doesn’t deserve you. ”
Meghan lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “But what about you, Marco? I thought...I mean, after tonight...” She trailed off, biting her lip. My chest constricted, a dull ache blooming behind my ribs.
“Meghan,” I sighed, cupping her face in my hands. “You know I care about you. But you and Wick, you have history. A connection that I can’t touch. And as much as it kills me to say it, I think he’s the one you really want.”
She blinked up at me, her brow knitting. “What about us? What we have?”
“What we have is complicated. Intense. Fucking amazing. But let’s be real, Meg. We both know it’s not built to last.” I had to force the words past the lump in my throat. Much as I wanted to cling to the fantasy of a future with Meghan, I knew it was just that. A fantasy.
There was a long uncomfortable silence as she studied me. Then, to my shock, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. She tasted of champagne and tears. But even as I lost myself in the heat of her mouth, the slide of her tongue against mine, icy dread settled in my stomach. This wasn’t really about me. It was about Wick, and the gaping hole he’d left in her heart.
I broke the kiss with a gasp, resting my forehead against hers. “Meghan. We can’t do this. Not like this.”
She pulled back, her eyes wide and hurt. “Why not? I thought you wanted me.”
“I do want you. Fuck, Meg, I want you so much it hurts. But not as a consolation prize. Not as a way to forget about him .”
Her face crumpled. “That’s not...that’s not what this is.”
We both knew it was a lie. She was here because Wick had pushed her away, and she needed someone to make her feel wanted. And as much as I wanted to be that person for her, it would only end in heartbreak for both of us.
“I think you should go,” I said, hating the way her face fell. “Go back to your room, Meg. Sleep it off. And in the morning...in the morning, you need to talk to Wick. Really talk to him. Because as much as it kills me to say it, he’s the one you belong with.”
She stared at me for a few agonizing seconds. Then, slowly, she nodded. Without saying a word, she stood up on unsteady legs, smoothing down her dress with shaking hands. She paused with her hand on the door knob, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “For what it’s worth,” she said, “I do care about you, Marco. More than you know.”
And then she was gone. At the sound of the door clicking shut, a heaviness settled in my stomach.
I sat there for a long time, staring at the closed door. But even as pain gnawed inside me, I told myself I’d done the right thing. I wanted Meghan, but I wanted her to be happy more. And if Wick was the one who could give her that happiness, then I had to let her go.