Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
boston
It’s been a couple of weeks of trying not to think about her.
She’s still the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep.
More often than not, it ends up with my dick in my hand.
I’m a man possessed. I think about the bathroom, the hotel room, the sink, and that fucking flight from hell on a loop.
I think about every second of it, every minute of my life.
I’m about to pay a witch online to make it stop.
I have somehow managed to resist reaching out to her. I justify it by reminding myself that I will never have a girlfriend, I’ll never get married, and I don’t want kids. I can’t reach out. It would be entirely selfish, and then I’d not only be hurting Forker, but I’d be hurting her, too.
I can’t do that to her.
It gets easier with him, by the way. With Fork.
I push it out of my mind when we're together, and pretending it never happened is easier when she’s not around.
Which is why my heart sinks to my fucking ass when I walk onto Lowesy’s balcony with a box of cinnamon buns in hand and see Ariana Forkerro in a long, pink sundress, sipping on a martini.
I force myself not to freeze, which is what I almost do.
My eyes find her instantly, like they search for her in every room and on every face.
When she smiles all smug, I tear my gaze away, praying that I am able to make it through the night without doing or saying anything stupid. She’s in pink. Fucking pink.
I hand the box of pastries to Penny, whose eyes light up, and then try to quickly decipher which seat is furthest from her.
I settle for one of the arm chairs across from the fireplace table. It’s a solo seat. There’s an empty one next to me, but one of the dogs is curled up on it. There is no way anyone will risk disturbing them. Not even Ari.
“Okay, continue. I need to hear the end of the story,” Penny says.
Lowesy chuckles under his breath.
The entire room turns to look at Ariana. My eyes follow suit. They would have even if she wasn’t the one leading the conversation.
Arden sighs, shaking her head and hiding her face, but Carter is grinning from ear-to-ear.
Ari, whose hair is down and falling in front of her chest—a gold clip pinning one side of it back, launches back into the story she must have been telling before I interrupted with a dozen cinnamon rolls and little words.
I look to the couch opposite Declan and Penny, catch Saltzy’s eye, and dip my chin in greeting. His eye is healed now. You would never know what happened at the wedding if you weren’t there.
Caulfield rubs his lips with his fingers, a smirk pulling on his mouth as he listens to the girl who turned my brain to mush.
She’s enticing that way. She talks, you listen.
“So, he moves his hand to cover his crotch as I’m telling him how small it is.”
Penny barks out a loud laugh.
I blink, whirling my attention back to her. “What?”
Ari’s eyes snap to mine, mischief twinkling there. She waves me off. “Right, you missed the beginning. That cop that loves Arden—he came up to us at a restaurant and was trying to rile up my brother.”
I glance at Forker. “Naturally.”
He smirks, shrugging a shoulder.
“And I told him that he looks like he has a little penis.”
Arden physically cringes at the memory.
Carter might be shaking his head at his sister’s antics, but he can’t hide how satisfying he finds this. He was proud of her for this particular scene. There is a little temper in Little Forkerro, too. Forkerro genetics are no joke.
“Then he goes and says his name.” Ariana gasps, slapping her hands on her knees.
She scans the room, demanding attention, and her gaze lands on Penny—she knows who is eating this up.
“Peck. Peck! So, I called him Officer Little Pecker until he ran back to his table with that pecker tucked between his legs.”
I smirk, more entertained by listening to her speak than the story itself. Never a dull moment with the brightest girl in the world.
“That guy is an asshole,” Wyatt says, his grin widening. “Public humiliation was deserved.”
“Understatement.” Carter snorts.
“He does have lovely taste in women, but that’s about all he has going for him,” Ariana clarifies.
Arden smiles, rolling her eyes at the compliment.
Penny sets the cinnamon buns out on the table with the rest of the food. Sensing the story has ended, Lowesy gets up to make a fresh drink, and needing to be anywhere but here for a moment—I follow.
He’s filling our glasses with ice when I catch a glimpse of his wedding ring under the cabinet lighting.
Gold. Simple. Totally fucking married. I shake my head at how weird this still feels.
A couple of years ago, I would have sworn the two of us would have been bachelors forever.
I never thought I’d see the day either of us settled down.
He catches me looking, a happy little smile pulling on his lips. Dimples and all.
He nudges my arm. “Shut up.”
“You’re a husband.”
The smile grows. “I am.”
“You have a wife,” I point out, pouring some whiskey into my glass.
“Don’t,” he groans. “I’ll get hard.”
I bark out a laugh, shoving him gently. I’d prefer not to give my buddy a boner in his kitchen, so I move onto more pressing matters. “How are things with EJ?”
His smile dims, eyes remaining glued on his glass as he fills it with soda. “I don’t know.”
“They didn’t sort it before you guys left?”
Lowesy shakes his head, dropping the can to the counter.
He leans back, resting his shoulder against the fridge.
“Wyatt wouldn’t speak to him. I tried, but there wasn’t a shot at changing his mind.
He almost lost it on me for getting involved.
I… I don’t know. Lucky’s slowly trying, but… I don’t know.”
He doesn’t know what? If it’ll ever get better? If they’ve talked at all?
“Have you talked to Saltzy?”
Lowesy dips his chin, hazel eyes sad. “He hates this as much as the rest of us do. He’s begged Wyatt to have a conversation with him, but Wy is absolutely refusing. Nagging him about it will only make him dig his heels in and resist harder.”
“EJ didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” Lowesy sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “But if any of my friends hurt Lucky, I’d have a hard time getting over it, never mind a punch in the face. His anger isn’t unwarranted.”
“Yeah,” I grumble. “That’s fair.”
“Don’t press him about it, okay?” he says, smacking me on the shoulder.
I shoot him a look, because when the fuck would I ever actually get involved in a mess that isn’t mine?
“I know, I know, I just figured I’d say it.
Just in case. This is a mess built on top of years of history. They have to sort it out themselves.”
That isn’t reassuring. I don’t like the way my mind drifts when he says that. Years of history, years of friendship, obliterated with one, stupid decision. What about multiple stupid decisions? What about three decisions back to back?
Out on the balcony, Forker is now telling some story that has Wyatt in stitches. I listen, sipping on my drink, feeling her looking at me the entire damn time. Her eyes are like flames, burning a path on my skin, holding the fire there until I react. It’s impossible to ignore.
She’s toying with me—begging me to look at her. I shouldn’t, but I do.
She smirks over the rim of her martini, her brow angling upward.
I shoot her a look, a clear warning, because that’s the scene we have to set here.
She is still a woman hellbent on pursuing me, and I’m still a man that respects her brother enough to shoot her down.
We cannot possibly give any indication that those roles have changed.
Me playing along has the opposite effect than it should.
It makes her face brighten so vibrantly that it illuminates this entire balcony like a spotlight on our crimes.
If anyone looked close enough, they’d see my palm prints all over her skin and the path my lips took over her body.
Back to our regular, scheduled programming, though. Her favourite place to be.
I slide my eyes back to Fork, but meet the stare of someone else instead.
Right next to him. Brown and inquisitive eyes watch me like they just caught me and Ariana exchanging spit instead of eye contact.
I pause, not tearing my eyes away because that’d be admitting guilt.
Arden brings her red wine to her lips, that stare lingering a second longer, before she turns her attention back to her boyfriend.
My armpits are sweating. My balls, too. I don’t scare easily, but Arden Doll is starting to become my greatest fear.
She can’t know. If she does, it destroys everything.
My phone buzzes on the table where I’d left it, giving me a welcome reprieve from this room.
I see Lemmy’s name and snatch it into my palm, hoping to escape whatever hellscape of a reality I’ve landed in tonight.
Opening our texts, my heart sinks to my fucking ass for the second time in the last few minutes.
I stare at my phone. Words on a screen, a bomb in my hands.
No.
My throat bobs.
Fuck.
Holy. Fuck.
I must say that last part out loud because Forker’s voice tapers off and everyone’s attention diverts to me.
I’m still staring at my phone, my eyes wide and my stomach sick.
I type quickly. I type without thinking.
I’m aware that nobody’s speaking, but I’m face-to-face with a disaster and I need a fucking second to decide how I’m going to handle this.
Shit.
Our whole world is about to go up in flames.