Chapter Forty-One
Zeppelin
Idon’t remember falling asleep, but I open my eyes to find Misty still resting on my chest, her face swollen and bruised from last night. My poor girl.
Chonk lies in the crook of her knees while Peanut Butter stretches out along her back. Fucking traitors. Only likes the women.
Then again, I can’t really blame them. I like them, too.
I hear knocking on the front door, and I curse whoever’s out there as I gently slide out from underneath Misty. Grabbing my pillow, I place it under her head where my chest was, and I move as quietly as possible downstairs.
Opening the door, I about slam it shut. “What the fuck are you doing here, Chanel?”
“I wanted to talk.”
“I don’t.”
I close the door, but she opens it before I can lock it and walks inside. “Too bad. We need to talk. There’s too much history for us to just walk away like this.”
“Walk away like what?”
“Unfinished business.”
Is she serious? “What are you talking about?”
“We’re in love—”
“No, the fuck we’re not.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head in disbelief. Has she always been this delusional? Was I?
“Zep, you know as well as I do that this story between us isn’t finished. We’re meant to be together.”
“I don’t know how many other ways I can say this, but no, we’re not. We’re not meant to be. We’re not getting together. You’re engaged. Go marry Dorian.”
“I don’t love him. Not like I love you.”
Rubbing my face with both hands, I try to figure out how to get through to her. “Look, I have Misty upstairs, and I don’t want her seeing you. I don’t want to see you, so get the fuck out of my house. There is nothing between us. Not anymore. Never again.”
“Zep—”
“Leave, Chanel. Go and don’t look back.”
“What if I’m looking for you?”
Clenching my fists at my side, I keep my voice in check. The last thing I need is Misty coming down here to see Chanel standing in my entryway when I’m trying to win her back.
“I won’t be there.”
“You’ve always been there, Zep. You’re just abandoning me?”
“I’m choosing someone who treats me better than you. Who cares about me. And I care about her.”
“But you don’t love her.”
Grinding my teeth, I choose my words carefully. “What I feel about her doesn’t concern you.”
“It does if it means we have a chance together.”
“We have no chance!” I shout and wince. “We are not together. We are not going to be together. Go. The. Fuck. Home.”
Her phone rings, and she pulls it from her purse and silences it before tossing it back. “I want to come home, Zep.”
“This isn’t your home anymore.”
Tears well up in her eyes again, and I study her. They’re strategic. Made to look like she’s going to cry, but they never fall. Even when she blinks.
Seriously, how the hell does she do that?
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No, it’s not.”
Chanel steps forward and cups my face, pulling me down to meet hers, but I push her away and step back. “Stop it.”
“You’ve never denied me before. And you’re throwing away twelve years for her?”
“Twelve years of what? Random fucking when you decided you needed a better ride than you get at home? Calling when your mouth gets your ass in trouble that you can’t get out of on your own? Yeah, that’s not really a loss on my part.”
Six months ago, she called me up because she’d mouthed off to her boss. She figured he’d back down when she threatened to go to HR, but he threatened to fire her. The claims she made were unfounded—something I didn’t learn until afterwards—and she called me to help her.
I made her boss give into whatever her demand was. At the time, I thought it would prove how much better I was for her than Dorian. Now, I see it was just another way she strung me along. Knowing I have to feel needed.
“You really want that life, Zeppelin? The insta-family with a kid that’s not yours? Are you serious?” Chanel asks.
“I love that kid,” I say. “I’d give anything to be part of that family. It’s what I’m working on fixing after you fucked it all up for me.”
Laughing, she crosses her arms and leans against the wall. “You wanted that kiss as much as I did.”
“I wanted closure.”
“When you’re with her, I know you think of me.”
I lick my lips and lean against the back of the recliner. “You know, you used to be all I thought about. When you left in the mornings, I’d feel completely shattered. All I wanted was you. When I thought of my future, it was always you.”
“It can be us together, Zep.”
“But not anymore. I don’t think of you anymore unless it’s realizing how big of a fucking bitch you are. How worthless you made me feel. All you are is toxic drama, and I’m over it. More than that, I’m over you.”
Nostrils flare as her hands shake at her sides. “Toxic drama?”
“I’m done, Chanel. I’ve been done.”
“She’ll never fit in with your world. Your family won’t see her the way they see me.”
“That’s only a good thing because it turns out Mama and Lainey fucking hate you.”
Her hand flies to her chest like I stabbed her with an imaginary knife, and her mouth drops open. “No, they don’t. They love me. I’m family.”
“No, you’re not. In fact, most of the people in town hate you. Nancy at the Seven Crows wanted to have a talk with you while holding a whiskey bottle like a weapon.”
“She just jokes around…”
How could I be so blind? And stupid. There was nothing special about Chanel. She was just really good at stringing me along to make me feel like what we had was amazing. Enough breadcrumbs to keep me satisfied enough but never hungry to the point of looking at everything. Seeing the whole picture.
“Zep, please. I can be what you want. You want to get married? Let’s go. The courthouse opens on Monday. We can get married and take a long honeymoon. Just you, me, and a resort on the ocean.”
“I don’t really like the ocean,” I say. “In fact, you don’t actually know anything about me, do you?”
“Who knows you better than me?”
“Misty. Misty and her daughter.”
Leveling me with a glare, she shakes her head. “Bullshit.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Black.”
“Green,” Misty says from the stairs.
My heart races, and I try to find the words to explain. To keep Misty from running away.
Nothing comes out of my mouth as I look between the two women. My past and present loves. Two women who couldn’t be more opposite. And only one I care about losing right now.
Fuck.