Chapter 7
Adelaide
Connor was dared earlier to throw a hundred dollars all on red, so of course Connor throws a hundred dollars all on red. And he wins, doubling his money, which sets us all up for a night of good fortunes.
The five of us have a roulette table to ourselves—just the guys and me—and as much as I’d rather be playing the no-pressure slot machines with the girls, the roulette is actually kind of fun.
Only because we’re all up on our money, of course.
I’m sure I’d enjoy it a lot less if we were losing, but it’s been an hour, and the couple hundred dollars each of the men started with is still in play.
I’m saving my own gambling budget for the slots later, so Liam let me pick out his numbers to make sure I still felt involved.
I picked number eighteen because our anniversary is December eighteenth, number twelve for my birthday, and number three for his.
Liam picks out zero and thirty. We stick with these same five numbers each spin, playing with five-dollar chips.
Number eighteen comes in again for the third time tonight, winning us one hundred and eighty bucks.
I’m starting to think that if this luck continues all weekend, perhaps our winnings will go some way toward paying off the outstanding honeymoon costs.
“You picked well, babe,” Liam says, cupping his hands around the stack of chips the dealer has just awarded him and dragging them across the roulette table toward us.
I clap my hands excitedly, but mostly I’m just relieved, because if we weren’t on a lucky streak right now, then I’m pretty sure my poor choice of numbers would be to blame.
“We’re doing good, huh?” I say, tucking myself in close to him and resting my head on his shoulder as I watch the roulette wheel spin round and round.
We’re around seven hundred dollars up at the moment, and my fingers are permanently crossed in my lap, willing our luck to continue.
Between the mounting costs of the wedding, the luxury honeymoon we’ve splurged on, and the home renovations we’ve decided to start, it’s an expensive chapter in our lives, and we could use a little extra cash right now.
“Hey, John, how about we spend these winnings on a golfing weekend?” Liam suggests, and I fight with everything in me not to release a sigh as John fist bumps him in agreement.
I glance up from the wheel, and across the table, where my eyes naturally meet Connor’s.
The past hour, he’s barely even sat down.
He’s on his feet, hands pressed to the edge of the table, taking the roulette very seriously.
Every once in a while, our gazes cross paths, and something sparks in his dark brown eyes every single time.
I usually glance away quickly, but this time, I hold the eye contact.
I will always, always have a soft spot for Connor Lexington. And that is not a thought that should be running through my mind on my bachelorette weekend while I’m snuggled up against my fiancé’s arm, but damn it, I think it anyway.
Connor was incredibly sweet and caring, even as a bonehead high-school senior, and always put me first. His emotional maturity was seriously advanced for a seventeen-year-old.
Connor was kind and patient and gentle and forgiving and actually communicated with me.
There were never any tears or tantrums, and that must surely be unheard of for two kids in their first relationship in high school.
The only time I ever cried over Connor was when he broke the news that he’d been accepted into the Marine Corps, and that he’d be leaving for basic training after graduation.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise—he’d been very forthcoming all throughout high school about his dream of joining the forces—but suddenly it all became real, and we knew the relationship was never going to survive.
We were just too young. We needed to put ourselves first and forge our own paths in life, so we agreed to break up after graduation, and it hurt like hell.
I thought I was long over the pain of parting ways with Connor.
It was nine years ago, for God’s sake, but as we hold each other’s gaze across this roulette table, I feel the lurch of my heart, the energy bubbling in my veins, the magnetic pull toward him .
. . Connor Lexington was my safe place, and I haven’t felt safe in a very long time.
Pressure builds in my throat, all the way through my cheeks and up to my eyes. I have the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.
“Hey, I’m going to go touch up my make-up,” I murmur into Liam’s ear as I move to untangle myself from his arm.
“I’ll come with you. I need to pee,” Liam says, then nudges his stack of gambling chips toward John. “Keep on playing my numbers for me. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Liam and I both get to our feet, his hand immediately slipping into mine.
He leads the way through the packed casino floor toward the restrooms, and en route we spy Melissa engrossed in a slot machine.
There’s still no sign of Hailey and Theo making their return, and now Evie is nowhere to be seen either.
The start of my bachelorette weekend hasn’t exactly turned out like I envisioned.
We’re all scattered throughout the hotel, and Liam, who wasn’t in my vision at all, is squeezing my hand a little too tight.
When we reach the restrooms and I try to pull away into the women’s half, Liam tightens his grip further. I glance back at him over my shoulder, sensing he has something to say.
“You’re happy I’m here, aren’t you, Addy?” he asks. His expression has shifted as doubt flares in his eyes. “You don’t think I’m ruining your bachelorette plans, right?”
I can’t give him the truth, but I can give him the answer he wants. The safe answer. I smile brightly and say, “Of course I’m happy you’re here!”
“Good,” he says, smiling with relief. He draws our intertwined hands to his lips and grazes a quick kiss over my knuckles.
I retract my hand from his and toy nervously with the sash around my torso. “I better join the girls at the slots now. You have fun with the guys, and then we’ll regroup later when we’ve both become millionaires, okay?”
Liam rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Whatever, Addy. If you want to waste your time on the slots, you go do that. You know where to find me.”
He spins around and heads into the men’s restrooms, so I disappear into the women’s and try to swallow the guilt that rises up inside me.
A small part of me believed—hoped, rather—that maybe this weekend would be different.
That we’d both be happy, celebrating our upcoming marriage with our closest friends, and it wouldn’t feel like I was being pulled in a thousand different directions.
I want to keep Liam happy, but I also want to enjoy the things I love.
As selfish as it sounds, I wanted this weekend to be about me for once.
My wants, my needs, my happiness, yet already I can feel it happening—I’m putting Liam first, like I always do. I can’t upset him.
I dry off my hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I bite down on my lip, wishing Liam didn’t put so much pressure on me these days. People say that every relationship needs some give and take, but sometimes I feel like he only seems to take while I only seem to give.
Taking a breath, I touch up my concealer, powder my face, and apply a fresh layer of satin lipstick.
The endless hours of sipping on cocktails all day are starting to get to me now, and I feel more sleepy-drunk than wild-drunk, and honestly?
I have no idea how I’m going to maintain enough energy to hit the club later.
My feet are starting to hurt in these heels, too. Ugh.
Composing myself, I finally emerge from the restrooms, but the moment I step out onto the casino floor, someone blocks me. A panicked gasp rips from my throat.
“Jesus, Connor,” I breathe, placing my hand over my heart as if to ensure it didn’t just miss too many beats at once. “You scared me.”
“Sorry about that,” Connor apologizes. He steps back to offer me some space, but instead of heading into the restrooms, he lingers. “Liam headed back to the table.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m going to try my luck on the slots now,” I say with a small laugh.
I lied when I told Melissa being around Connor isn’t awkward despite our history, because it is—it’s so horribly awkward because I can never look at Connor Lexington without remembering all the butterflies his perfect smile used to set off within me, and after nine damn years, I shouldn’t still feel this heat between us, yet it’s always there, burning like a wildfire.
He’s not flashing that smile right now, though.
The twitch of the muscle in his jaw tells me his teeth are clenched, and his nervous energy makes me nervous too.
His dark gaze travels from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes, analyzing every inch of me, and I become paralyzed under his scrutiny.
Connor is tall and broad and built like a Marine.
Even as he has matured into this hardened, masculine exterior, all muscles and tattoos, I know he still has the heart of a golden retriever.
A lump constricts my throat. It feels like he can see straight through me, and I can’t bear the silence between us for a second longer.
“Yes . . .?” I prompt.
“How are things with Liam?” he asks, and I blink at him in confusion.
My only response is another uncomfortable tinkle of laughter.
Connor looks at me, really looks at me with those warm brown eyes of his staring straight into my soul, and says, “I know, Adelaide.”
My blood immediately turns to ice. I see the anguish in his eyes and I know exactly what he is referring to, but my head spins, because he can’t know . . . No one knows. “You know what, Connor?” I challenge.
“I know what happened between you two.”
My lips part in shock. The entire world stands still for several seconds as I register the words he’s just dared to say out loud, and I realize my deepest, darkest secret isn’t actually a secret at all.
My heart pounds inside my ribcage, creating an ache in my chest. I have never prepared myself for how to react if this moment ever happened, never considered a response except deny, deny, deny.
“Have you had too much to drink?” I say with another croak of forced laughter. Sweat beads along my forehead and all I want to do is run away from him, so that’s exactly what I do. Without another word, I teeter off across the glossy tiles as the casino blurs around me.
“Addy,” Connor says in a low, desperate voice from right behind me, his steps keeping up with mine as a soft hand slips gently around my wrist. He tugs me to a stop and circles back in front of me, forcing me to look at him, and I’m not sure which of us is more terrified. “You can tell me the truth.”
“Connor,” I whisper, eyes locked with his as I give him a tiny, pleading shake of my head. “Please don’t do this. Please don’t talk about it. Please just . . . Just don’t.”
This can’t be happening. Why, why, did Connor have to open his mouth and say something?
It’s my bachelorette weekend and I’m trying my damn hardest to be happy.
This is supposed to be the most important chapter of my life—now is not the time for anyone to get involved in my private affairs, let alone him of all people.
Connor’s expression twists with torment as his gaze dips to his hand around my wrist. Delicately, he brushes his thumb over my skin, and my entire body ignites with goosebumps. “You don’t need to keep secrets around me, Addy. It’s me, and you know I always want the best for you.”
“And Liam isn’t the best for me?” I snap defensively, gritting my teeth.
“You already know the answer to that,” Connor says, cocking his head to the side with a pitying frown, “and if you say otherwise, you’re lying to yourself.”
“Oh, Addy! There you are!” I hear Melissa call, and I yank my wrist free of Connor’s hold before she can get close enough to register our heated exchange. “I just cashed out on four hundred bucks! I’m going to try my luck on some other machines. Are you joining?”
“Yes, I’m joining!” I say cheerfully, forcing a radiant smile upon my face, despite the ringing in my ears and the fire beneath my skin and the racing of my pulses. “Bye, Connor. Have fun at the roulette table!”
I link my arm around Melissa’s and begin to walk with her toward the slot machines with inexpressible gratitude for her interruption, but I am yet to feel any sliver of relief. Connor has just opened Pandora’s box—and I fear if I don’t do something about it quick, there’ll be no sealing it shut.
I glance back over my shoulder at him as I walk away. He remains exactly where I left him, rooted to the spot, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans with a devastated look on his tanned face and his mouth a grimace. Mostly, Connor Lexington just looks heartbroken.