Chapter 40
Jameson
In the early morning, after we make love slowly in the faint dawn light, we lie in bed in each other’s arms. I play with Megan’s soft hair.
I don’t want to say anything. I don’t want any of my fears, or Megan’s, to ruin this.
I know they’re going to.
I can feel it in every ferocious beat of my pulse when we’re close, my heart straining under the pressure of all those goddamn arrows she’s lodged in there with her sweetness.
Last night, she asked me about marriage. And yes, I’ve been thinking about marriage. Looking at it in a much different way since she accepted my proposal.
Thinking about what it would be like if she were my wife.
But I didn’t have the balls to tell her that. Not when I wasn’t prepared to follow through.
It wouldn’t be fair to mess with her head.
More than she needs some promise of a fairy-tale marriage, she needs a stable man. And that’s the kind of man I need to be for her.
I won’t make her any promises unless I know I can keep them.
She stares at me so long, her head nestled next to mine on the pillow, I finally break. I brush my thumb over her soft cheek. “What are you thinking about?”
“Why were you holding back before?”
I know what she’s asking, and why. She’s concerned about why I changed so suddenly. From avoiding her touch to fucking her like my life depends on it.
Who wouldn’t be?
She wants to know what my reason was for delaying our sexual connection, which is obviously intense and electric.
If we could stay in bed and fuck all day, I’m sure we would.
But she already told me she’s spending the day with her friend Nicole today.
Maybe she needs room to breathe before this ravenous connection between us swallows her whole.
I know I’m being consumed by it.
I don’t even know what to tell her anymore.
“Was it really about my brother?” she says softly.
She’s never asked me that so directly before.
But just because I’ve completed my challenge doesn’t mean I’m off the hook.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I still can’t tell her about the game, even now that my part in it is done.
My siblings know; the ninety days are up, and I swore to them all that I completed the challenge. There would be no women—Megan included—popping up to claim I’d fucked them during those ninety days. And if they did, they were fucking lying.
And I didn’t tell Megan about the game.
I didn’t break the rules.
We’ll be meeting up again soon to draw the next name from the box.
The pressure will shift to someone else.
But for now, for me, even though my challenge is complete and I’m free to have sex with Megan, the game is still causing problems.
“No,” I admit. “Not entirely.”
“Was there ever someone else? While we were together?”
I look at her, and she holds my gaze like she’s still worried there might be something that bad that I’m not be telling her.
I roll close to her, prop up on my elbow, and look deep into her eyes. “No. I told you, I’m not that guy.”
“Then what is it? What are you not telling me?”
“It’s really not important. It’s…” I sigh raggedly. “It’s done.”
Megan stares at me.
It’s the first time I’ve admitted that there is something I’m keeping from her, and she didn’t miss it. It wasn’t a slip-up or a mistake. I had to tell her something.
I have to give her as much of the truth as I can.
“How can you say that?” Her voice is soft and small. “I told you honesty is important to me, and you said the same. I’ve felt it, all along, that there’s something you’re not saying, Jameson.”
“There is.” I exhale, suddenly feeling exhausted from the weight of this thing I’ve had to carry, and keep concealed from her. “You’re not wrong.”
“Then tell me.”
I shake my head, slowly. “I wish I could.”
She shakes her head, too, not understanding.
I’ve answered her questions as honestly as I can. But I can tell I’ve damaged her trust.
She needs more from me. More of the truth.
And she deserves it.
I struggle with what to tell her.
“All I can tell you… is that I can’t tell you.”
I can see her struggle to believe me. “What if that’s not enough?”
I take her hand in mine and hold tight. “It has to be.”
* * *
Over breakfast on the balcony, Megan’s quiet.
“You’re mad,” I say gently. “Let’s talk about it.”
“I’m not mad. I’m hurt. And confused about why you’re not being fully honest with me.”
“About this one thing, I can’t be. I wish I could.” I try to put all my feeling about it into my words, so she knows this isn’t easy for me.
It’s fucking torture.
If I thought it sucked to not be able to fuck her, not being able to tell her why I couldn’t is much fucking worse.
She sighs and rubs her forehead. “I haven’t been totally honest either. The first night I slept here with you, I followed you to your bathroom and watched you masturbate. I loved it,” she says, sounding apologetic. “But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
My cock stirs at this new information, and I lick my lip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you seemed so distant, sexually. You said we weren’t going to have sex. I had no idea how you’d take it. That should’ve been enough to stop me, I know. But once you started… I couldn’t look away.” She groans a little. “I wasn’t kidding that I’m a voyeur. And I don’t know if I became one because I was with such a self-obsessed narcissist for so long that I developed this almost fetishistic craving for watching because sometimes it was all I was allowed to do, or if he picked me because he knew…” She blows out a breath, and I get to my feet, going over to her and kneeling down in front of her.
She meets my eyes, and I can see the residual pain there. “He knew I’d crave him, adore him, admire him, and never be strong enough to leave.”
I grind my molars, struggling to ignore the flames of jealousy that lick my insides when she talks about him like that. “You did leave.”
She shakes her head. “I wanted you from the moment I met you.” She sounds so sad when she says that, like it’s some great tragedy.
I slide my arms around her waist. “I wanted you from the moment I met you, too.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? You barely even kissed me. You avoided touching me, all the time. Why?”
I swallow the growl of frustration in my throat. It’s not for her.
It’s for this whole fucked-up secret I have to keep.
“I can’t tell you why. All I can tell you is that I wanted to, Megan. I wanted you, so badly. That first night, when you say you watched me masturbate… you must’ve seen how badly I wanted you.”
She doesn’t say anything. She tears up, and my chest aches until I can’t draw a full breathe.
No matter how I try to convince her, I know she’s crushed that I won’t tell her everything, that I’m still holding something back—even after she just shared something so vulnerable.
“I was honest with you,” she breathes. “And you won’t reciprocate.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Except that.”
Yeah.
Except that.
* * *
I walk straight into Graysen’s office as soon as I arrive. His home office, which is the whole main living area of the owner’s suite at the Vance Bayshore resort, because all Graysen Vance does in life is work.
I stalk across the grand room, right up to his desk in front of the big windows, which are dimmed out so he can see his computer screens. He’s at his keyboard, typing.
His secretary gets up from her desk along the side wall and hurries the hell out.
I’m pretty sure it’s Graysen she’s afraid of, not me—as worked up as I am right now—and she doesn’t want to be here to witness whatever’s about to go down between brothers. My impotent rage must be crackling off the walls.
Graysen looks up, cool and incredulous. He lifts an eyebrow.
He says nothing.
“I’m going to lose her.” I slap my hands down on his desk and lean in. “You wanted me to get engaged. Well, you got what you wanted. You got your celebrity love story. The whole ‘Prince Charming and Cinderella’ romance, the engagement ring, all the leaked photos. It’s the hottest thing in the headlines right now. And I’m going to lose her because of Granddad’s stupid game and this lie he’s making me uphold.”
“It’s not like Granddad knows what’s happening in your life right now,” he says dryly.
“My inability to tell her the truth will just drive her away.”
He considers that for maybe two seconds, then says evenly, “You’ll manage it.”
“She’s not some business to be managed.” I push off the desk, clawing a hand through my hair. “You knew Granddad best. He had to have left me a loophole here.”
My brother studies me, sitting back in his chair. “He left us to play the game. That’s how he wanted it. And his only part in it is what he left us in black and white.”
I start pacing in front of his desk. “So there’s no way around it.” I wonder if I look as unraveled as I feel. I run a hand down the front of my shirt. I’m pretty sure I buttoned it straight.
“I’d tell her for you myself,” he says, “but the rule is clear. None of us can talk about it.”
“So no one can tell her. Ever.” My voice cracks.
Then I stop dead. Savannah’s voice is suddenly in my head.
Have you ever considered, Jamie, that maybe he’s just trying to protect you? From getting your heart broken.
I point at Graysen accusingly. “You knew this would happen. You know that I’m all soft and fucking broken inside, and when I fall it’ll be forever. And you knew this would happen.”
My brother’s eyebrow raises. “I knew that what would happen, Jamie?”
I can’t even say it. Can’t admit how I feel about her out loud.
Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe I’m just going crazy with the thought of losing her, and want someone else to blame for the mess of shit I’m feeling.
He watches me pace as I unravel some more.
“I had an interesting chat with Damian last night,” he says after a moment. “He said he pressed Megan on her loyalty.”
I turn to stare at him. Damian did what now? When?
When I was in the men’s room at Gravity?
“He could sense that the situation was getting real for you,” Graysen says. “We all can.”
I stare at my brother for a long, painful minute as he stares back calmly. Situation. When did my love life and my engagement become a situation?
This is Megan we’re talking about.
My life.
And very possibly my future wife.
“So,” he says, “are you telling me it’s real?”
Rivers of blood pound through my ears and my heart strains in my rib cage under the pressure of all those arrows. It feels like a dam about to blow in there. There are way too many fucking holes.
“Are you sure it’s as real for her as it is for you?” he presses.
I turn and walk out without answering him.
Fuck him.
I pull out my phone and dial Megan, because she’s the only one I need to talk to. My family doesn’t have answers. Granddad fucked me with this game, and even he can’t take it back. The man is gone and I’m fucking falling in love with my fiancée, and if Megan is ever going to trust me enough to love me, I’ll have to make that happen myself.
Somehow.
She’s been at Nicole’s all damn day, though.
I need her.
I just have to see her tonight, convince her somehow that I’m trustworthy. That we can just bury this stupid little secret that doesn’t mean anything anyway, put it in the past, and forget about it.
But when I hear her voice, I feel like I’ve dropped off a cliff.
“Jameson?”
Her voice sounds so small. She sniffles, and somehow I know, I fucking know she’s far away.
Fear creeps up my throat, threatening to strangle me.
“Megan?” I stop midstride, alarm spiking my adrenaline. “What’s wrong?” I hear a soft sob. “Where are you? Are you with Nicole or Rurik? I was just about to come pick you up.”
She sighs and says sadly, “I’m in Crooks Creek. I’m sorry. I had to leave.” She sobs again. “This was such a mistake.”
With her next words, the thudding dam in my chest fucking breaks under the weight of all my mistakes. “Troy called.”