Chapter 5 #2
I glance over Madison’s shoulder to meet the piercing gaze on the other side of the pool.
“Okay! That’s great!” Holden exclaims and the shutter of his camera snaps several times.
Logan holds my gaze, sipping from his glass. He looks like a predator planning his next move, and I find myself longing to be his victim again, even though I already hate myself so much for forgetting all of my commitments yesterday.
I’m hit by the realization that had I not proposed, I’d be free to pursue this man on my terms, and the touch of my bride-to-be is suddenly as cold and as heavy as shackles.
She flicks her finger against my forehead. “I’m talking to you!”
Is she? Was that what the buzz at the periphery of my attention was?
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“We’re going to go have a look at the photos Holden took at the welcome dinner.”
“Oh. Okay,” I mutter and run my fingers through my hair. Maybe if I stop staring at Logan, this whole new lust will subside.
As soon as Madison starts walking, I follow. She turns to me and even Holden seems a little perplexed. Did I do something wrong? Again?
“Kyle. I’m going with Holden. Please pay attention. You can stay here and entertain our guests. I’ll be back later.”
I nod and my shoulders sag with guilt. I should have been listening to her. A good groom would have.
But I am clearly shit even at something as simple.
If she wants to see a selection of the photographs already taken and give Holden pointers as to what she wants more of, I’d only be a hindrance. So I wave at them and shove my hands into my pockets as they go toward the main building, leaving me by the pool, right within Logan’s line of sight.
Should I approach him and ask for an audience, like he’s some king? He’s sitting there with the woman who left him at the altar and they seem much more comfortable in each other’s company than they were at the dinner.
Maybe now that Logan understands his sexuality, being jilted no longer hurts as bad, and meeting here is an opportunity for them to bury the hatchet.
The young woman in a vintage dress glances at me with raised eyebrows, which makes me wonder if Logan has told her about what happened.
A cold shiver runs down my back at the thought of Logan spreading this information.
Because what if it reaches Madison? Could she forgive me and go through with the wedding, or would she make a scene to punish me?
I don’t have a lot of sexual experience, but I liked being with Logan much more than being with both Madison and the girl I was with before that.
Does having this preference mean I’m gay rather than bi?
It’s so damn confusing it’s making my head hurt.
And it’s not something I should be considering days before my wedding!
He’s still looking at me, with a mocking smile I find unbearably sexy, and despite the warning jolts at the base of my spine, I adjust my suit jacket and walk along the pool, holding his gaze. This needs to be dealt with, or I’ll be stewing in my own juices for as long as we’re both here.
I’m not sure yet what I want to tell him, but I cannot just let it go.
He whispers something to the woman sitting with him and they both get up.
I can only hope he doesn’t leave because chasing him down would be super awkward.
Fortunately, his friend slips on her heels and walks away while he stands by the pool with one hand in his pocket, sipping his drink as if he’s waiting for me.
I need to tell him that what we did was a one-time thing. Ask him to not tell anyone. Tell him I’ll keep his secret too.
The closer I am, the more my brain scrambles with memories of his dick pushing into me and how mind-blowing that felt.
I have to force myself to focus on reality, but the closer I am to him, the blurrier everything around him looks.
He’s dialed up to maximum sharpness, and the party in the background seems to lose its color.
Eventually, all I can see are his lips, his intense gray eyes, the wide shoulders and the length of his legs. He is so damn beautiful to me that now even the sounds around me become white noise. Yet I’m certain that once he speaks, his voice will be sharp as a razor.
I can barely breathe from the insistent need to be touched by him and wonder what I’d do if he put his hands on my hips out here, in the open.
Would I be able to push him away?
He wouldn’t do it though. He’s not out.
Or would he?
My tongue is a swollen, useless lump of flesh when I face him, but as soon as I stop, he starts walking.
Or at least I think that’s what he’s doing, because his foot goes for my ankle and before I realize what’s going on, he gives my side a little shove and I’m falling.
There’s nothing I can grab and no way for me to save myself. The surface of the pool hits me as if in slow motion, and then I’m underwater.
Panic pierces my brain as I flap my arms about. I might not be sure about my future marriage but I don’t want to die like this.
“Help! I can’t swim!” I yell when I manage to reach the surface for air, but my wet clothes drag me down and I swallow a mouthful of chlorinated water.
Then my feet touch the bottom of the pool, and I realize the water is only chest-deep as soon as I stand. Laughter echoes everywhere around me when I look up, still shocked by Logan’s attack.
He’s standing by the edge with fake-concern on his face. “You okay?” he asks but doesn’t extend his hand to me.
I guess I deserve it.
“Fine,” I mutter and seek the nearest way out.
There’s a ladder nearby, but that’s in the deep end, so I put a smile on my face, for the benefit of everyone staring, and move toward the steps on the shallow side.
Nothing can be done at this point, so I wade toward them, acting as if it was an accident, even though inside I’m burning with shame and self-pity.
“Kyle, are you okay?” I barely hear the question in the flood of jokes, but the voice belongs to my sister.
In a green dress, and with the pixie cut framing her small face, Olivia looks like a mischievous elf who’s come here to mock me.
And as she scoots down in her modest heels, I can see even she is attempting to hold back a smile.
I’m such a joke, though none of the guests know the extent of it.
I’m getting married because I can’t face the consequences of withdrawing so late in the game.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, noting that my brother, Jude, is far away, attempting to charm the fifth woman today. So much for sibling care. At least Olivia is trying.
“How do you stay in the saddle when you’re so clumsy,” my sister says.
I groan and take off my soaking jacket. At least Madison isn’t here to complain that I ruined my outfit. And the shoes, which is much worse, because I only have one suit-appropriate pair. I might be nervous, but I’m not a coward, so I’m burning with the need to confront Logan.
I search for his face in the dense crowd but can’t spot it. Fuck.
“I don’t know, I must have slipped,” I groan.
“You do have more clothes, right?” Olivia asks, taking the jacket off me and holding it away from her dress.
But a member of staff is approaching us from the side. I hope they’re coming with a towel for me, but the woman’s tense expression makes me worried this is about something else.
“What is it?” I ask as soon as she reaches me, because I am ready to take whatever hit is coming my way.
She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t express concern for me. Her gaze is ice. “Sir, we had someone check your room, because your dog was making so much noise. He destroyed the sofa. Shall I remind you we made a special exception so your pet can stay here?”
The ground feels slippery under my feet, and I find myself hoping that maybe if I fall into the pool again, I won’t need to continue this conversation.
“Is Jekyll fine?” I ask the stone-faced lady.
“He is. Unlike the expensive sofa, which will need to be replaced.”
I dread to think how much it might cost, and as shameful as that is, I wonder if my future father-in-law will cover it.
“I’m on it,” I mumble and start my walk of shame through the crowd.
Wet, deflated, and unhappy.