Chapter 18
Skylar
"You sure about this?" Zoey’s worried face looks up at me from my phone screen. She’s the only one who knows about my plan. I mentioned it to her yesterday, and only because she called me after I’d arranged the date with a man I’d matched with on a dating app.
Last night, she didn’t react in a way that made me think she was concerned.
But clearly, she was, since she called me back to check in on me.
I love my friends, but this is why I don’t want to share too much of what's going on in my life. Sure, it makes me come across as being closed off, but it also means I don’t have to explain myself to others.
It’s not that I'm not grateful for my friends being concerned about me. But honestly, at the moment, I just want to get on with the program before I lose my nerve. That said, I knew it was prudent to let Zoey know where I was going to be, as a safety precaution. After all, I’m going to meet a stranger.
"Skylar? Did you hear what I said?" Zoey frowns
"I’m sure." I’m not. But I’m not going to tell her that.
When I went on the dating app, I made it clear I was looking for a no-strings-attached, one-night-only encounter to lose my virginity.
Of course, losing my V-card attracted a host of responses.
When 'Larry,' if that's his real name, recommended we meet at The Dorchester, one of the finest hotels in the city, I knew he had money.
It also meant my first time would be in the lap of luxury.
After Nate walked out on me—again—and after he made it clear everything that happened between us was a mistake, I was pissed.
Sure, he closed up shop for me, then carried me up to my apartment and put me to bed, which shows he cares for me.
And he slept on top of the sheets fully clothed, and on his side of the bed so there was no accidental touching.
Not until I reached out to touch him, that is.
But then, he withdrew and made it clear what happened the night before was a mistake.
He may be attracted to me, but not enough to sleep with me. He may have feelings for me, but not enough for him to make love to me.
He’ll marry me, consolidate his position as CEO with his grandfather, then likely, divorce me.
He’ll find someone who's a svelte, five-foot ten-inch, icy blonde with long legs and a figure so flat, you can see the light pass through her. Everything he’s told me so far about how much he loves my figure is a lie.
If he actually liked how I look, he’d have slept with me last night.
I saved my virginity for him, but maybe he doesn’t want it. Maybe he doesn’t find me alluring enough. I am a plus-size, after all. Maybe he’s put off by the thought of having sex with someone as big as me? I hunch my shoulders.
The marriage between us isn’t real. The chemistry between the two of you is real, though. It has been from the first moment you met. So is the connection you’ve felt with him. Too bad he doesn’t want to acknowledge it.
Worse, when he gives in to the temptation, he regrets it.
Once we get married, I’m sure he’ll want me to move in with him, and then I’ll never be able to resist the urge to sleep with him. I’d probably throw myself down on the bed and beg him to take my virginity… And chances are, he’ll refuse. Ugh!
And if, for some reason, he wants me enough to consummate the marriage? Then, along with having feelings for him, he’ll also be the first man I sleep with. That’s something I’ll never recover from.
I’ll never be able to put him behind me and move on.
I’ll be forever stuck in a limbo where my emotions are connected with him.
He’ll become my sun, moon and stars, and I…
will be nothing but dust to him. No, I can’t let that happen.
I have enough pride to not give up everything I am to him.
I will hold onto something for myself. Something I will not let him have access to.
Something I choose to give to someone other than him—my virginity.
It’s what gave me the courage to come here today, and—
"Skylar, have you thought this through? What if you regret it later?" Zoey’s voice interrupts me.
"I won’t. I have thought this through. This is what I want to do." I set my jaw.
She scans my features, and her own soften. "I know how independent you are. And I can’t claim to understand why you want to go through with this, but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself in the process."
He already hurt me; not that she’s aware of it, of course.
But then, I also haven’t told my friends about Hugo.
Another secret I’ve kept from them. I realize, it’s unusual to support someone who’s not even blood family when I can barely support myself.
But it’s my choice, and I don’t want to have to explain it to anyone else.
The only person who knows about him is Ben.
And my brother supports me. He even wanted to share in the cost for Hugo’s treatment, but I refused to let him.
It was my choice to help Hugo, which doesn’t mean Ben has to pay for his treatment, too.
I could do with Ben’s emotional support right about now, though.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call; the caller ID says 'unknown,' which normally means it’s Ben calling me from whichever location he’s been posted to.
"Uh, Zoey, I have to go."
She stiffens. "If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming over there."
"You’re a good friend, Z." I blow her a kiss.
"I’m not joking, Sky."
"I don’t doubt you. Gotta go." I disconnect her call and answer Ben’s. "Hey big bro, how're you doing?"
"Little sis, you sound like you’re up to something you shouldn’t be doing.
" Ben’s voice is so clear, he might as well be in the same room as me.
Which is a change from the static that normally crackles across the telephone lines when he speaks to me from whichever corner of the world he's in.
You'd think the Marines would provide clear lines of communication for their men who are putting their lives on the line for our safety but apparently not.
"I’m exactly where I should be," I manage to say around the ball of emotion in my throat. And no, it’s not because I’m lying to him, either.
I miss my brother, is all. I miss having someone to talk to, someone I can go to for advice, though probably not in this instance.
I don’t think he’ll be very happy when he finds out I’m married to his best friend, and without telling him.
But it’s for the best. I don’t want to distract him during his mission.
The last thing he needs is to find out about matters of my heart.
Compared to the challenges he’s facing, what I’m going through is nothing.
"How are you doing, wherever it is you are? "
"I’m doing well, honey. I’m just a little tired from being out here and away from all of you."
"You’re missing her," my instincts prompt me to say.
There’s silence, then he sighs. "I am. I didn't think I would. I thought when I left, I’d be able to get back into the groove of things. That I’d pick up where I left off, when it came to leading my team on a mission—"
"But it’s not the same anymore."
"It’s not," he agrees.
"And it wouldn’t be. After all, you're in love."
He laughs. "When did you get so wise. Wait—" He hesitates. "Is it because you’re in love? Is that why you sound so mature?"
"Hey, I’ve always sounded older than my years."
He chuckles. "You were born an old soul. It’s why I've often felt like I'm talking to one of my peers when I speak with you. No matter, you're so tiny."
"I’m not tiny," I protest.
"Five-feet four-inches is tiny; counts as tiny." He snickers.
"Okay, fine, but physical attributes are not as important as emotional maturity, which I lead on."
"That you do." His voice is sober. "You’re the best of both of us, the best of our parents. Every time things go to shite out here, I draw strength from the fact you're safe. That everything I do will ensure you live a long and happy life."
"And I’m so grateful for that." I swallow down the worry that clogs my throat. "I miss you, big brother."
"And I miss you, too. I wish we had more time together. I wish I hadn’t had to leave when I did—"
"Don’t talk like that. You'll be back soon, Ben. You’re going to deliver on this mission; you’re going to surpass all expectations."
"Of course I am. After all, I am the best at what I do." His voice is cocky, then he coughs.
"You okay?" I frown.
"Yea. Picked up a chill. The nights here can get real cold, real quick." There’s a beeping sound on the line, and he sighs. "I gotta go. There’s only one phone line in this place, and the rest of the men need to call home, too. I love you, little sis. Just remember, you’re worth a lot more than you give yourself credit for and you deserve a lot more than you realize.
Don’t just give yourself away to any—" The call cuts out.
I lower my phone to my lap and stare at it. How like Ben to be cut off in the middle of another of his pithy sayings.
It’s almost as if he was in my head and knows what I’m planning to do, but that’s not possible.
Did he sound more tired than usual? Is he unwell?
Under the weather? He definitely wasn’t his usual self-confident and optimistic self.
Every other time he’s called me, he’s always been itching to get back in the game.
This time… It felt like he couldn’t wait to come back home.
And he will. And then he’ll find out I’m married to his best friend and, no doubt, both Nate and I are going to get an earful.
But he’ll be happy for us—less so, when we divorce…
But when he finds out the reasons behind why I did it, he’ll understand.
He’ll know I did it because I wanted to save my business and take care of Hugo…
And do it on my own. He’ll be proud of me, I’m sure of that.
And if what I’m going to do right now makes me a little less proud of myself, that’s okay.
At least I’m choosing to do this. Unlike this marriage, which I’ve been coerced into.
Sure, I’m benefiting from it, but if I had another way of getting the money, I wouldn’t marry Nate.
A-n-d I’m trying too hard to convince myself.
I cannot let thoughts of Nate sway me. I can’t. I—
"Taylor?" A man’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I look up to find a slim man with thinning hair and a pleasant face smiling down at me.
"Larry?" I rise to my feet and hold out my hand. "I’m Taylor Smith." So, I used my girl crush’s first name and couldn’t come up with a more exotic surname. It works though, doesn’t it?
"Larry Jones," he says with a knowing smile. He's probably also using a pseudonym. I glance down at his left hand and, thankfully, there’s no mark where a wedding band might be. Good. One less thing to feel bad about.
"Would you like a drink?" He aims an awkward smile in my direction.
I wince. "Um, actually I’d prefer to get this over with."
He seems taken aback, then nods. "That’s a good idea. Why beat about the bush when we can head straight for the sack, eh?"
I wince.
So does he. "Sorry, that came out sounding a little creepy. I promise I’m not." He holds up his hands. "Creepy, that is. You sure you don’t want that drink?