Chapter 17
SWAYZE
Punching the limp-dick excuse of a cushion, I toss and turn on the cream sofa for the hundredth time. I probably should’ve sat on the damn thing before offering myself up as tribute.
It’s rock hard. Pure torture.
My feet hang off the end, and it’s not wide enough for me to lie flat without an arm falling to the floor. How the hell am I gonna manage two weeks on this without wrecking my back?
I let out a low groan, shift again, flop backwards, and throw an arm over my eyes, willing sleep to take me.
Mia’s soft snore taunts me like a smug little ghost, as if to say, ha ha, look at me, I can sleep just fine on this huge, comfortable, empty bed.
In my sleep-deprived hell, I should hate her. But I can’t. Not even a little.
Not after what I saw tonight.
I’m pretty sure I left my bleeding heart out on that terrace. My mind hasn’t stopped spiraling since that asshole confronted us, driving me insane with questions I can’t answer.
How did she stay with that guy for so long?
Was he always like that?
What else has he said to her?
Is he the reason she won’t take a chance on me?
I deal with total pricks all the time in my line of work, but tonight’s the first time I’ve ever genuinely wanted to commit murder.
The second he walked over, I knew he was gunning for her from the cold, calculating sneer he sported. Watching his eyes scan her body, the beast in me started braying for blood.
If we were alone, I’d have knocked him out—no question. But I’m not gonna cause a scene in front of both our families and embarrass Mia, no matter how satisfying it would be to see him bleed for what he’s done to my girl.
But fuuuuuck… I still failed her.
How did I not see it?
I spent the last twenty-something years half in love with her—watching her, pining for her.
But somehow, I still managed to miss every sign that she spent almost a decade suffering in a relationship with a toxic bastard.
We all did.
Do the girls even know how bad he was?
Punching the sofa again in frustration, I exhale a heavy breath.
She shrunk into herself tonight. Her elegant shoulders curled inward, like she was trying to disappear. I doubt she even knew she was doing it, but we’re trained to notice these things in my line of work.
The signs were all there.
I don’t know if he ever laid a hand on her, but he sure as hell verbally abused her. A blind man could’ve seen that tonight. But if I ever find out he did more—if he hit her—I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself from spilling blood.
No man should ever lay a hand on a woman, and I’ll make damn sure he learns that.
I jerk on this godforsaken sofa, knocking myself off balance, tumbling to the floor with a thump.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Maybe I should just sleep here. It’s as hard as the damn sofa, but at least I can stretch out.
“Swayze?” Mia’s sleepy voice calls out in the dark.
Shit, now I’ve gone and woken her.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Why don’t you stop huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf and come to bed already? It’s more than big enough and we’re both adults. Trying to sleep on that tiny thing's just stupid.”
Did she just say… come to bed?
I didn’t hit my head and imagine that, right?
“Swayze?” Her voice is sharper now, laced with exasperation.
Well, fuck.
Sharing a bed for two weeks with the person I’m burning with need for?
The one I can’t have?
Is that smart?
Maybe I should take my chances with the pool bed outside.
A little cold might not be a bad thing if the alternative is throwing myself into the fiery gates of Hell with temptation inches away from me.
Before I can decide, Mia appears in front of me, glowing in the moonlight reflecting off the pool like some ethereal angel.
Wait, is she—
“Is that my shirt?” My voice comes out gruff, and I bite my tongue to stop the groan threatening to rip out of me. She glances down and flashes me a sheepish smile.
“Umm, yeah, sorry. I usually sleep naked so I totally forgot to pack PJs. I was just in my panties, but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate that, so I grabbed the first thing I could find.”
I’d appreciate that. I’d appreciate that a whole hell of a lot.
But, this? Her in my shirt? It’s… better? Or worse?
Definitely worse for my sanity.
It cuts off at mid-thigh, but I’m pretty sure if she turns, it’ll barely cover the curve of her delicious ass.
Standing there, in my shirt, she looks like mine.
God, I wish she were mine.
“Come on, Wolfie.” She stretches out her hand. “We’re both adults, we can sleep in the same bed for fuck’s sake.”
Her small hand curls around mine, and I smother my chuckle, smirking up at her instead. It’s real cute that she thinks she can pull me up off the floor.
The second our skin touches, the urge to yank her down on top of me and kiss her senseless consumes me. It’s all I can see.
Well shit, that idea needs to disappear, and fast before I have to deal with another hard situation.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I hurriedly push up off the floor and lace our fingers together. We walk to the bed in silence, her warm hand tightly clasping mine. With every step closer, my heart thumps harder and I forget how to breathe.
Does she feel it too?
All too soon, she drops my hand, climbing into bed and—Jesus take the fucking wheel.
That ass.
We’ve officially hit new lows.
I’m jealous of cotton.
Biting down a groan, I flop into bed beside her, maybe a little too heavily if her amused “hey” is anything to go by.
Epic fail again, Swayze boy. Absolutely killing it tonight.
Breathing in, I’m immediately smothered by her scent and I close my eyes, committing the moment to memory like the lovesick fool I am. When we get back home, I’m gonna have a real hard talk to myself because this shit ain’t it. But just for tonight, I’ll allow it.
Despite being friends since we were kids, this’ll be the first time we share a bed. We shared a tent once, but Nick was there too. Between us, so it’s not like there was spooning.
Not that this is a spooning situation.
Or a forking one.
Womp womp.
Jesus, slam the breaks—right now—before I make this awkward as fuck by popping wood.
Been there, done that, ruined a perfectly good pair of boxers.
“Hey, Swayze?” Her soft, sleepy voice breaks the silence.
Her pinky hooks around mine, and I jerk at her touch.
Get it together, man. This is not cool.
“Uhh, yeah?”
Smooth. Real smooth.
I was going for Kenickie—yes, I have a sister. Of course I’ve watched Grease, don’t judge—and somehow ended up the Fonz.
And we’re not talking the cool Fonz.
That’s how it always seems to go with her.
“Just wanted to say thanks for tonight. For being here, and doing all this… for me.”
Her finger tightens around mine, and I squeeze it back, the irony of the move not lost on me.
Mia has more power over me in her little finger than everyone else combined.
“You don’t have to thank me. What are friends for?” I force the words out, but they taste bitter. Not that I hate being her friend—far from it—but it’s just so much fucking harder now I’m spending my days pretending to be something more.
“You’re a good friend, Swayze. I know we’ve had our moments, but I just want you to know that. And this isn’t the cocktails talking.”
“It’s cool. I’ve got you.”
We fall silent, pinkies still linked.
Lying here in the dark, this is the first real moment we’ve shared in forever. I don’t want to lose it, but I have to know.
“Why him, Mia?”
Her sharp intake of breath and a squeeze of my finger is all the response I get.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing, trying not to drown in disappointment.
Sleep would be really fucking helpful right about now. Instead, I’m lying here, obsessing over every breath she takes.
Just as I’m mentally humming “Every Breath You Take,” she shifts, pulling her finger away.
Before I can mourn the loss, she slides her whole hand over mine, intertwining our fingers.
“Because he asked, I guess…” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.
“I wish I had a better answer than that, but when I think about it, especially at the beginning, that’s what I come back to.
I was self-conscious. I hid it well, but I never quite fit.
Different surname, olive skin, unusual eye color...
I just wanted to look like everyone else.
Freckles. Pretty blonde hair that all the boys lost their minds over.
Kim was blonde and perfect. Haven was stunning and colorful, and she had Axel.
He’d have kicked any guy's ass for going near her. But I was just awkward, weird little me.”
No, you had me.
I bite the inside of my cheek, desperate to set her straight, but I don’t want to interrupt her. This isn’t about me. Or us. Besides, what good would it even do now?
“When Pete showed an interest in me—just me, despite meeting all three of us—I was flattered. Someone chose me. I didn’t realize he’d turn into such a piece of shit. He wasn’t at the beginning.”
Her voice wavers, and internally I kick my ass six ways to Sunday.
I wanted her so much back then.
Fuck, I wanted her way before Pete even came on the scene, but I was worried about Nick freaking out so I boxed my crush up and shoved it aside in a useless attempt to ignore it.
“Pete showered me with attention. Made me feel seen. Desired. But then, he started to change. He’d criticize you guys, my hair, my clothes, my body, what I ate, everything.
He made me dependent on him, seeking approval that he rarely gave and I never fucking saw it.
If anything, he’d do the opposite. He’d be more critical.
Meaner. Colder. I got so used to putting on a mask—this fake, confident, sunshiny persona—around everyone else that I believed it myself. ”
She stops and sucks in a ragged breath.
I stay silent, squeezing her hand in a show of support, doing my best to stay calm and not interrupt her opening up to me, but inside my blood is boiling.
He manipulated her. Shamed her. Controlled what she ate?
What the actual fuck?
We never really liked him, and that was before we found out he cheated, but I don’t think anyone suspected it was this bad.
God. We could have lost her in so many different ways.
I wish I’d known. Acted sooner.
I want to ask her so much more, but this is more than I ever expected her to tell me.
“He was cheating on me the whole time. I forgave him for it once, but when he knocked up my cousin, I finally woke up and saw who he really was—is.” She pauses, her voice cracking.
“He said the most awful things when I told him I couldn’t do it anymore.
Told me he didn’t care because I wasn’t the kind of girl men wanted to marry.
That I’d been lucky to find him. That he pity-fucked me.
I was an embarrassment, boring, a lousy kisser, shit in bed. Degenerate.”
I can’t contain the growl that rips from my chest at her words.
I’m. Going. To. Kill. Him.
She sniffles, and it damn near breaks my heart to hear my bright, beautiful girl so broken.
Turning on my side, I pull her into my arms. She doesn’t resist, her body racked with sobs as she curls into my chest.
Her tears soak my skin as I run a hand through her dark waves, pulling her even closer.
“I’m so sorry, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. But know this, every single word he said's a goddamn lie.”
“Not so sure about that.” She hiccups.
“I’m more than fucking sure. I don’t wanna sound crass, but I’ve got firsthand experience on a few of those points, and you get zero complaints from me. You are beyond perfect.”
Sniffling, she giggles, wiping away the tears from my chest with her hand.
“You have to say that, you’re my friend.”
“I’m not in the habit of lying, Mia. You’re like no one I've ever known. You’re spectacular.
A stunning force of nature. You might not see that, but I do.
People constantly gravitate to you. Any guy would be lucky to have you.
Not that you need a man, girl power and all that, but if you wanted one, I mean. ”
And I want to be that guy.
Her bloodshot eyes study mine in the moonlight, a tiny wobbly smile curling her beautiful lips.
“Thank you, Swayze. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.
I think I’m just frustrated with myself.
I can’t believe that the second I saw him tonight, instead of ripping him a new asshole and showing him how wrong he was, I just clammed up and ended up right back there again.
” She winces, blowing out a rough breath.
“Can you please not say anything to Nick or the others? I’d rather just forget about it.”
She leans back, and my heart twinges at her tear-streaked face glowing in the moonlight. I cup her jaw, swiping the tears beneath her eyes with my thumbs.
“You can trust me. But if he comes near you again, he’s leaving this island in a body bag.”
Her striking eyes practically glow in the dark when she smiles up at me, kissing me on the cheek before curling back onto my chest.
In less than a minute, her breathing starts to slow. On instinct, I run my fingers through her long dark waves and she lets out a dreamy little sigh.
Dropping my lips to the sweet-smelling crown of her head, I plant a soft kiss there.
“And for the record, Mia… I only ever saw you.”
Holding my breath, I wait. Will she realize I just declared my feelings for her?
All I get is a soft snore in response.
Of course.
The second I finally get the balls to say something… she’s asleep.
Maybe that’s for the best.
I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it anyway.