Chapter 31 Zach
Zach
“Let me see your phone.” I stretch out my palm, open and flat.
I gave Paige a day to lick her wounds and recover from the wildly successful gala, but I’m done waiting. She slipped out while I was swarmed by excited donors as I tried to leave the stage. I called all day yesterday and she never responded to any of my attempts.
Today, I deliberately banged on her door at eight this morning, wanting to catch her asleep, and possibly in a more open-minded state. Or at the very least, groggy.
“What?” Paige runs her fingers through her unruly hair and scrunches her nose.
“Your phone.”
“It’s in the bedroom.” She’s confused but doesn’t stop me from marching into the condo.
I don’t know where the bedroom is, but the place isn’t too big and I find it quickly. She follows, calling my name and asking me what I’m doing. Her phone rests on the bedside table and I hand it to her.
“Could you please enter your password.”
“What are you doing?” She’s more awake now.
“Password, please.” I raise an eyebrow and she does as I ask, handing it back to me, and I have to bite back my smile. We’re going to be okay.
“Well, your phone works,” I say, after checking her phone and texts.
“What? Of course it works.”
“Well, since I never got so much as a one-word reply to all my texts and phone calls yesterday, I’d hoped your phone was broken.”
She releases a sheesh and rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t have a reply for you. I’m not upset with you, Zach.
I’m ticked off at myself. I let our agreement get away from me, and I forgot that this,” she motions between us, “was make-believe. When Reagan made that scene and then you confirmed that you’d also made a similar deal with another woman…
” She stops, swallowing back her tears. “Argh,” she grumbles, slumping onto the bed and dropping her head in her hands.
“I don’t want to be upset about this. I should have known better. ”
“What do you mean?” I sit on the bed beside her, deliberately close so our thighs touch.
“We had a fake relationship and then you proposed. I wanted it even knowing you could break my heart. I wanted you and I wanted to believe we were real.”
“We are real.” My throat suddenly constricts, not because I’m unsure or afraid of admitting my feelings, but because I can’t lose her. “You’re the realest thing in my life and I think we were meant to find each other this way.”
She snorts, looking at me. “What, lying to each other and everyone else?” I nod and suck in my bottom lip. Her eyes fix on my mouth and her gaze liquefies.
“If it had been any other way, one or both of us might have easily dismissed any chance at a relationship.” I bury my hands in her hair and bend to catch her mouth in a kiss. I need to taste her, feel her.
“Wait, stop.” Eyes shining, she slowly pulls away. “How do I know this is real? We had a business arrangement so you could get your trust fund.”
“That went away a while ago.”
“What?” She tilts her head to the side.
“I gave my trust fund to Nan. Well, not all of it. I used my trust fund for Project Miranda.”
“What?”
“I think you said that before. What don’t you understand?”
“What about St. Barts? The hotel? Why would you do that? Give up your dream?”
“I’d do anything for you. When Reagan walked, there really wasn’t any other solution and I realized I wanted Project Miranda as much as you did. Paige, you chose my mother’s name for this significant endeavor. Do you have any clue what that means to me?”
She smiles sheepishly, wiping a tear away with the back of her hand, and I swipe my thumb along the same path.
“I suggested her name because of the way everyone spoke about her. This project sounds like something she would have wanted. The decision was ultimately the board’s.”
Ignoring her modest attempt to downplay her generosity and importance, I push on. “I took your advice and sat Nan down and had her listen to my idea. She agreed to present my business plan to the board. She’s warming to the idea of diversifying our business model.”
“What?”
This time I out and out laugh, enjoying her confusion and how stuck she is on the word ‘what’—it’s kind of cute. “Forget about all that for now. Let’s talk about us.”
She opens her mouth and I’m willing to guess she wants to ask ‘what’ but then closes her mouth.
“My marriage proposal was real. Our relationship became real to me a long time ago. It might have even been real from the start. I just didn’t know how to say it.
But by Montreal, I was a goner. Our arrangement meant nothing to me.
You were mine and I had no plans of ending things whether I got my trust fund or not. ”
“But…but all we’ve done is lie.”
“Oh baby, lies or not, this is real.” I take her hands in mine. “And you want to know why? Because all I want is you.”
“How am I supposed to believe you? Zachary Rothwell, you’re a liar.” She pulls from my grasp, putting distance between us.
“I am and so are you.” I wink, moving in a flash to ensnare her in my arms, pressing her warm body flush against mine. Now she’s wriggling to break free.
“Yes, I am. I lied to everyone.” Tears glisten in her eyes and she rests her head on my chest. “I lied to my family and friends, and Nan. And I hated every minute of it.”
“I wasn’t wild about it either, you know. And I did some serious apologizing when I came clean to Nan.”
“What?” She lifts her head to look at me with her eyes bulging, incredulous. “You told her about our arrangement? She knows I lied?” She pales once again, trying to wrestle free of my embrace. “I wanted to tell her. I never wanted her to find out from someone else.”
“Hear me out.” I squeeze her gently and she stills. “I told her everything, and she knew the truth before she came to the condo with Harley.” I pause, letting that sink in. “She isn’t upset with you at all.”
“I’m a liar.” She spits the words, angry with herself.
“Yeah, you are, but not in the way you think.”
“What?” She growls when the word she’s been stuck on slips from her mouth. Again.
“You lied to yourself.” My hands cup her face. “We love each other. I love you.”
The corner of her mouth curls into a hint of a smile and she bites her bottom lip. That does it. Flickers of desire sizzle through my body as I lean in and crush my mouth to hers, capturing her plump lip between my teeth. I suck on her sweetness.
“I love you, too.” The words tumble from her mouth followed by a shuddering breath. Finally, she admits what I’ve felt for a long time now.
“Paige, we’re the real deal. I never knew I wanted a wife, and maybe one day a family of my own, until you. And it has nothing to do with my trust or hotels or anything but you.”
I love having my hands on her and I wrap them tightly around her hips, hauling her against me as I latch my mouth onto hers.
She slides her legs around my waist, and I walk us until my back hits the wall.
Her scent and touch consume me. I’m alive, more alive than I’ve ever been, and it’s all because of her.
My fingers dig into her thighs, one hand sliding up her back to burrow into her thick waves of hair.
I tug just enough to make her hiss and nip at her lip.
She loves the sting as much as I do, and we kiss and kiss, only breaking when the burn in our lungs forces us to gasp for air.
My lips are swollen, buzzing, and greedy.
“I need a shower,” she says against my lips.
“Babe, I could use a shower, too. Let’s go.”
Our shower is long and hot until the water isn’t. I take care and show her how much I missed her even if we were only apart for a few days. One day is too many.
We don’t use words. Our mouths, hands, and bodies apologize, worship, and forgive. We tell each other all our truths—even the ones we never say to ourselves—and I show her how much I love her and how nothing is more real than us.