Page 8 of The Story of Us


  She wrote me off, turned right into that spoiled princess, making me now wonder if those six months were all a lie, and yet, I still can’t take my goddamn eyes off her. Even in a fancy dress that probably costs more than I made in a month with the Marines, I know there isn’t another woman in this room who can even come close to her beauty. Standing here, wanting to hate who she’s become, I clench my hands and lock my knees to stop myself from stalking over to her, dragging her into the nearest empty room, pushing her up against the wall, and fucking her until she magically turns back into the woman I loved once upon a time.

  “This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had and I have a feeling it’s going to end in bloodshed. Try not to get arrested, I haven’t saved up enough bail money yet.”

  Rylan’s voice echoes through my head from earlier tonight when he lounged against the door to the spare bedroom at Kat and Daniel’s house and watched me get ready. He didn’t like the idea of me putting myself right on Georgia Eubanks’s radar, but at least he didn’t try to stop me. He knew how determined I was to get to the bottom of everything. He knew I wouldn’t be able to move forward with my life until I got answers as to why Shelby stayed here to work for her mother and until I made Georgia pay for what she did to us. He might be able to let things go, but this is personal to me. She fucked with my life and she fucked with my best friend’s life. She got half of our unit killed because of her low opinion of me and because she knew I was getting close to something she wanted to keep buried. My brothers. My fucking brothers lost their lives because one woman abused her power and influence to get me away from her daughter and the truth. Men who will never see their wives again, who will never kiss their children good night again, who will never get to spend another holiday with their families or grow old, all because of her. And now Shelby, the woman I loved more than my own life, follows her around like a fucking puppy, dresses like her, acts like her, and has erased any trace of the woman I gave everything up for.

  “I’ve got some ass kissing to do. Will you be all right by yourself?” Daniel asks as he slides his now empty glass across the bar behind me.

  I give him a pat on the back and a smile. “Just gonna ruffle a few feathers. I promise to keep my stink eye to a minimum.”

  Daniel chuckles and shakes his head at me before he moves forward into the crowd. Smoothing down my tie, I slide my hands into the front pockets of my tuxedo pants and head in Shelby’s direction.

  As I make my way through the dance floor, moving around couples locked together and swaying to the music, I see Landry McAllister walk up to Shelby’s side, wrap his arm around her waist, and pull her closer. He looks like every other douche bag in this place with slicked-back hair and a bow tie and I hate him on sight. When he leans forward and whispers something in Shelby’s ear and she pulls back and smiles at him, pressing one hand to his chest in a familiar, easy way, something violent churns in my gut and my feet start moving me faster across the floor until I’m standing right in front of the happy fucking couple.

  I smirk at her when her eyes widen as she looks up at me, quickly dropping her hand from douche bag’s chest and pulling away from his possessive hold on her.

  “How about a dance, Princess?” I ask, holding my hand out toward her with my palm up.

  For just one second, so quickly I would have missed it if I hadn’t been staring into her eyes, I see a flash of something that looks like hurt, before it’s quickly masked with irritation.

  Knowing if she refuses me, it will most likely cause a scene since a few people are standing close by and heard me ask her for a dance, Shelby has no choice but to put on a brave face in front of them, tell the fancy-pants jerk-off next to her she’ll be right back, take my hand, and let me lead her to the dance floor.

  I came here tonight because I wanted to show Georgia Eubanks that she couldn’t push me around anymore. I wanted to make Shelby admit she was lying when she told me she’d moved on. I wanted to see that she missed me as much as I missed her; I wanted her to take back everything she said in those stables and tell me she still felt everything as deeply as I did, and that she never let me go. Being here tonight, seeing her interact with all these assholes and watching her with another man, just makes the anger inside me grow and fester until there’s nothing I can do to hold it back.

  I want her to feel the same searing pain that has settled inside my chest, taking root and taking over all over my thoughts and actions.

  I want her to know what it feels like to be stabbed in the heart and forgotten.

  I want her to hurt as much as I do right now.

  Chapter 9

  Shelby

  I smile and nod at everyone we pass as we make our way to the center of the dance floor, not seeing faces, not recognizing anyone, just blurs of hair and eyes and colorful expensive gowns as we move. I can’t think, I can’t focus, and I don’t want to be here, but I can’t make myself drop his hand and walk away, walk back to the safety of Landry and the security of what I know. I don’t know this man, gripping my hand so tightly I can feel my bones rubbing together under my skin. I don’t recognize this man who called me by a name he swore he never would again because he knew how much it hurt.

  “All my life, people have looked at me like I’m a spoiled princess. The poor little rich girl, living in one of the biggest houses in town, able to buy her happiness with just the snap of her fingers. I hate the way they look at me. I hate the way they see me.”

  “I see you, Shelby. Who cares what they think? I see you, and you are nothing like that person. You couldn’t be even if you tried.”

  I close my eyes when he finally stops walking and turns to face me, still hearing that voice and those words from what seems like a lifetime ago. His words gave me wings back then. They made me feel like I could do anything I set my mind to when he whispered them as he kissed his way down my body.

  “Open your eyes and dance with me, Princess.”

  I feel that one word like a punch to the face and it’s impossible to hide the wince this time. I covered it up the first time he used it with a fake smile and an angry stare, but I’m not that strong. I’m not that person anymore who could fight her way out of any situation, argue until her point was made or give a damn about being hurt.

  I deserve the hurt. I deserve the pain of his words and the smirk on his face while he stands here in front of me, watching me wrestle with my decision. He knows I won’t storm off in a huff in front of all these people. He knows I won’t tell him to go to hell. Not because I’m worried someone will hear me, because I know he’s already been there. The scars that mar his beautiful face and the hardness in his eyes are proof that he’s lived through torment I’ll never understand, so I let him have this moment. I let him call me Princess even though it breaks off one more piece of my heart and tosses it into the pile of shattered fragments. I let him tug me roughly to him and I let him dig his fingers into my lower back as he holds me close and we begin swaying to the music.

  Glancing around us, I give a few more polite smiles to other couples as they dance their way around us. I crane my neck to look through the crowd and make sure my mother is occupied and not getting a front row seat to this…whatever this is. I know she’ll hear about it. One of her many minions will make sure to scurry over to her and whisper in her ear, wrongfully assuming I’m doing something good for the charity tonight and expect her to be grateful. Presume I instigated this dance, in front of all these people, to show our support for the military hero who finally came home. They don’t know how much it will anger her. They have no idea I’ll be paying for this moment later after everyone has gone home to their happy homes with their happy families.

  “Was it worth it, Princess?”

  My eyes move away from the distractions all around us and I finally tip my head back and look up at his face. He’s scowling at me, his eyebrows clenched together and a curl in his lip indicating his disgust at what I’m doing, how I’m dressed, and what I’ve become.

>   “Was what worth it?” I ask, hating the quiver in my voice that lets him know I am not comfortable with this situation or with his question.

  “Giving up. I just want to know if it was worth it, letting go of everything you’d ever wanted just to be one of her little fucking sheep.”

  You’re here, you’re breathing, and you’re alive. It will always be worth it.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and force myself to continue looking into his eyes that feel like laser beams, burning a hole into my flesh.

  “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” I beg, my hand slipping from his shoulder to rest over his heart, hoping the thump of it under my palm will give me the strength I need to hold my head high and not collapse into his arms and beg him to forgive me.

  He laughs, but the sound doesn’t match the anger in his eyes.

  “Princess, you wouldn’t know difficult if it walked in here and smacked you across the face. While you were sitting here all nice and cozy in your fancy castle in your perfect, pathetic world, helping your mother toss her money around, I was fighting for my life. Fighting for one more fucking breath just so I could come back here to you. But there’s nothing left, is there?”

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek before the sting of his words fills my eyes with tears. My eyes leave his to glance at my left hand, which is still resting against his chest, to stare at the watch on my wrist. I wish I could let go of his hand so I could run my fingers over the inside band. It’s my security, my reminder, and the only thing that keeps me grounded and stops me from losing my sanity. I try not to focus on what he said about fighting his way back to me. I can’t allow myself even a moment of weakness to believe that’s true. The hurt and anger over how he left me are the only things I have left. They’re the only things stopping me from wrapping my arms around him and telling him the truth.

  “You’re right,” I finally say, my eyes still on my watch. “There’s nothing left. Maybe it wasn’t even there to begin with. I chose a different path because it was easier.”

  There’s nothing left because you took it all with you. And now that you’re back, I can’t even reach out and grab it without ruining both of us.

  “I have an easy life,” I lie, forcing my eyes away from my watch and back up to his furious ones. “I have a good man who makes it easy to love him and won’t leave me. I have a good job that’s easy to do. It’s all good and I’m happy.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head at me, his arm tightening around my body until I realize we’re no longer dancing. We’re standing in place in the middle of the dance floor and I want to run. Dancing with him, even if it was just moving from side to side, brings back too many memories of other times we moved like that. Times when I laughed and loved and felt something, anything.

  “You’re not happy, you’re miserable,” he growls, lowering his head closer to mine until I can feel his breath on my face. He smells like bourbon and peppermint and I want to drown in that smell until it washes everything away. “You’re sad and miserable and pathetic. I can’t believe I fought so hard to come back to this. I can’t believe you can stand here, supporting that woman, when you know what she did.”

  He finally drops my hand, removes his arm from around me, and takes a step back as the band finishes their song and everyone claps for them. A chill of fear works its way up my spine, wondering what he means about knowing what my mother did. Does he know about the threats she’s held over my head? It doesn’t make sense. How could he? Why would he still be so angry with me if he knew?

  I let his words of hate give me the strength I need to take my own step away from him. Everything inside me is screaming to deny what he said so he’ll look at me with love instead of hate, but I can’t do that. I can do nothing but let him have this moment and this anger that he so rightfully deserves and hope to God he doesn’t know about the bargains I’ve made with my mother to keep him safe. He’ll never be able to keep quiet if he knows, and she’ll stop at nothing to make sure he does.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I hope you can find your own happiness and move on, like I have.”

  I see him clench his jaw before I turn and walk away, gently pushing my way through all the people as the band starts back up again. I hear people say my name but I don’t stop moving through the ballroom. I see Meredith out of the corner of my eye, her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes as I move quickly past her, out into the foyer and across the hall to a small office with the door closed. I just need a moment alone, to remember how to breathe and to remember how to push the hurt away so I can go back out there and do my job. Hold my head high with a smile on my face and pretend like dancing with Eli, being close to Eli, and letting him rain insults down on me, didn’t cut me in half.

  As soon as I turn the handle and push open the office door, I feel something solid slam into me from behind, moving me faster into the dark room. I trip over my feet and an arm slides around my waist to steady me before whirling me around. I smell his soap and recognize his firm hold on me before the moonlight shining in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me illuminates the shadow of his face, but that doesn’t stop the rapid thumping of my heart as the door is kicked shut with a slam and my body is turned and pushed roughly against the wall next to it. With the first touch of his hands, the first feel of the heat from his skin against me, I’m lost. I’m drowning in a pool of desire I’ve only ever felt with him, and I never want to come up for air. Every inch of my body is on fire, begging for more, needing everything I’ve been missing, but knowing everything about this moment is wrong. This can’t happen. I can’t want this and I certainly can’t act on what I’m feeling.

  Before I can shove him away, shout at him, and tell him to let me go, his mouth is on mine. His chest pins my arms between us and I clutch a fistful of his dress shirt in my hands when my lips automatically part for him. His tongue quickly pushes into my mouth and I feel tears prickling behind my eyelids when I taste him, so familiar and so beautiful it breaks off yet another piece of my heart. One of his hands moves from around my waist and I feel the heat from his palm as it slides against the side of my neck to the back, his fingers gripping tightly to the hair at the base of my skull to hold my head in place. His kiss is punishing and hard and I can do nothing but hold tightly to the front of his shirt as our tongues battle together and I try to remember how to breathe.

  His arm that holds me close loosens slightly until I feel his hand skim down my spine, clutch my ass, and pull the lower half of my body up and against his hips. His hardness presses into me and every nerve and cell in my body I thought had long since died suddenly fire back to life as I push myself into him, wanting to feel more, needing to feel everything as our tongues swirl together and push deeper.

  This kiss is killing me.

  This kiss is bringing me back to life.

  His fingers dig into my ass as he moves me against him and his hand in my hair tightens, the pain immediately replaced by the pleasure only his mouth and his lips and his tongue can give me. My body loses all of its stiffness and I melt into him, molding my body to his from thigh to chest until I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. That’s how it always was with us when we came together and it’s no different now after years of being apart, no matter what kind of hurt lies between us. He makes me feel whole, he closes up wounds while at the same time ripping them wide open…and I never want it to stop.

  I match the intensity of his kiss, sucking his tongue into my mouth after he does the same to me, biting his lower lip after he nips at my own, letting his breath with a hint of bourbon on it and his lips tasting faintly of peppermint breathe me back to life even though I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’m not allowed to have this. I’m not allowed to be this person who loses herself in this man. As our tongues blend together and our heads move from one side to the other to get the best angle for the kiss, I feel myself getting wet for him, I feel my legs shaking with the need to wrap my thighs a
round his waist and let him sink inside me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt something like this, only with him and never with anyone else, that I can’t stop a gentle moan from floating out of my mouth and into his.

  The muffled music and murmur of voices on the other side of the door feel like they’re a million miles away, and my soft moan sounds like an explosion in the quiet room, suddenly so loud and needy.

  Eli immediately pulls his mouth away from mine, drops his hold on my hair and his hand from my ass, stumbling a few feet away from me, putting so much distance between us I feel like I’ll never be able to reach him. I have to lock my knees and press my back as hard as I can into the wall behind me just to stay upright and not collapse on the floor at his feet. I’m light-headed and I can’t stop my hands from shaking as I reach up and brush my hair out of my face that his quick departure caused.

  My head thumps back against the wall and I wrap my arms around my body to try and hold myself together.

  “It’s all good and you’re happy, huh? You want me to move on, just like you have?” Eli asks in a low, angry voice.

  He moves back to me in a rush and I shrink away from him as much as the hard wall at my back will allow. Without his mouth on mine and his body pressed into me, all the reasons why I can’t let myself have him come rushing back, the coldness seeping into my pores and taking root in my heart.