Page 18 of Mister Wrong


  “Jeremy Penchant’s party. First weekend after school started.” There wasn’t a question in her voice; it was like she’d read my mind.

  “That’s right. It was my first time drinking, and it didn’t exactly agree with me.”

  “I remember. The tables still remember the scrape of your heels, I’m sure.” Maggie pursed her lips.

  “You were there?”

  She nodded once. “I was there.”

  “I went with Matt and Jacob, but they were hanging over my shoulder like overprotective big brothers, so I managed to sneak away from them so I could actually mingle with other people.”

  “And dance on tables,” Maggie added.

  “Like I said, heavy-handed screwdrivers and sixteen-year-old drinking novice Cora Matthews did not get along well.”

  “Oh, it looked like the two of you got along really, really well.” Maggie eyed the sofa table like she was reliving the scene.

  “A while later, post table dancing, I found myself in a room alone. It was dark, there was a bed, and I was so tired. I felt like I just needed a nap and I’d feel better.” I had to stop there, waiting for my courage to catch up to my words. “One minute I’m falling asleep, and the next I wake up to the sound of someone in the room with me. Heavy breathing, the sound of clothes being taken off. The feel of someone trying to take off my clothes.” My back quaked, but I kept going.

  That night had been almost a decade ago, but I still remembered everything about it. From the smell of the musky cologne he’d been wearing, to the way his hands had been clammy and rushed.

  “It didn’t get far before Jacob found me. He hit the guy once, knocked him out, then carried me out of there. He took me home, put me into bed, and essentially saved me from something that could have changed me forever.” I sat up straighter in my chair, making myself look Maggie in the eye. I was surprised to find her eyes glassy. I hadn’t thought Maggie Stevenson capable of tears. “The next morning when I woke up and remembered what had happened, that’s when I realized I loved him. He’d saved me. Protected me. Taken care of me. He’d shown me what love was, instead of just trying to convince me of it.”

  Maggie sniffed as she shifted on the bed. “And did your hero ask you anything about it the next day?”

  “No, not directly. He asked if I was okay. If I needed anything. But when I didn’t bring it up, I think he realized I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget it.”

  Maggie’s hand lifted. “So let me just stop you there.” Her eyes narrowed like she was trying to decide what to say next. “Every reason you just listed, every reason you gave me that you have for loving Jacob, is misplaced.” She leaned forward, clasping her hands. “It wasn’t Jacob. The birthday flowers, the homework, saving you that night—it wasn’t him. Every reason you think you love Jacob is really because of Matt.”

  Whatever she saw on my face made her stop talking. I guessed it was her way of giving me a chance to catch up to what she’d just said.

  “What are you talking about? That was Jacob.”

  She barked out a laugh. “Please. Does Jacob really seem like the flower type of guy? And doing a couple weeks’ worth of someone else’s homework? He couldn’t even get his finished on time.”

  My mind felt like it was being invaded by an army of conquerors. Everything

  I thought I’d known, everything I’d believed, suddenly seemed to be false.

  “That night? For sure?” The words came out as a whisper as I tried to remember the face that had shoved through that bedroom door. Everything was so hazy thanks to the alcohol. “How do you know?”

  Maggie inhaled. “Because Matt told me.”

  “He told you?” My throat ran dry as I wondered what else about that night I didn’t know or couldn’t remember. “Were you there? Did you see anything? Did you see the guy?”

  Maggie gave me a sympathetic look before rising to head back into the bathroom. This time she emerged with a glass of water. “No, I wasn’t there. I didn’t see anything or him. But I know who it was.” She stopped in front of me, waiting for me to take the glass.

  My arms couldn’t move though—nothing could. “How?”

  “Because Matt found out who it was—some guy from another school.”

  My heart felt like it could explode from how fast it was going. “Why would he tell you and not me?”

  Maggie didn’t settle back onto the edge of the bed. She wandered to the window, staring out it with her arms crossed. “Because I guess he had some talk with you that next morning and kind of inferred that you never wanted to talk about anything related to that night ever again.”

  She glanced back at me, expecting an argument. She wouldn’t get one from me. I hadn’t wanted to ever think, let alone talk, about that night. As hard as it had been tonight, it would have been impossible when I was sixteen.

  “But he wasn’t going to let the guy just get away with it either,” she said.

  “When he told me he was going to call the cops and tell them he walked in on this asshole undressing some girl he didn’t know, I might have suggested an idea.”

  When she didn’t say anything else, I swiveled in my chair so I was angled toward her. “An idea?”

  She shrugged, turning around to face me. “That I could be that girl,” she said as though it were obvious. “There was no way that guy was going to serve any time without the actual victim testifying, so, voila, I became the victim.”

  My mouth fell open. “You lied in a court of law?”

  Maggie’s eyes rolled. “It wasn’t a court of law. It was a couple of police officers who took my testimony, along with Matt’s.”

  I gave her a look, waiting for the punch line. There had to be one, right? Matt was really Jacob that night. She pretended to be me. There was a perfectly logical solution to it all—she was messing with me.

  When she stood there, straight-faced and silent, my hands drew to my mouth. “Oh my god. You’re serious.”

  “Damn straight I’m serious,” she said, pointing at me. “And don’t look at me like that. What I did was put a would-be rapist behind bars for a few weeks so he could hopefully reflect on what he’d done and think twice before trying it again. I didn’t lose any sleep over it, that’s for damn sure.”

  My world felt like it was crumbling around me—at the same time it felt as though it were all coming together. She wasn’t lying. I could see that in her eyes. I could feel it in my bones. This had happened, and I was finally finding out the truth almost a decade later.

  “Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he tell me he found me instead of letting me believe it was Jacob?” I whispered, rising from the chair because I couldn’t keep still any longer.

  “You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to put it behind you.” She motioned at me, sighing. “And he wanted whatever you wanted.”

  Now I was the one pacing, trying to figure out what this all meant. What I had to do now. “Why tell me after keeping it a secret for so long?”

  Maggie leaned into the windowsill, giving me a sad smile. “Because you deserve to know the truth. And he deserves the damn credit for once in his life.” She looked at me like she was waiting for me to acknowledge that. “He’s the one, Cora. The real goddamn deal. Don’t let him go because you feel guilty or think you should do the right thing or anything stupid like that. Be with the person you want to be with. Stop wasting time.”

  Everything that had been out of focus for the past few days, for the past ten years, suddenly seemed clear. I had the answers I needed; now I just needed the courage to confront them.

  “Thank you.” I stopped moving, kind of wanting to give her a hug but kind of knowing she might go Kill Bill on me if I tried. “For doing that for me. For being brave when I wasn’t.”

  Maggie’s response was a simple shrug, like it was no big deal. “It wasn’t just for you. It was for women everywhere who might wind up drinking a little too much and dancing really, really poorly on tabletops.


  As her smile moved into place, so did mine.

  “It was for him. Matt, who would do anything for you. In case you haven’t figured that out yet.” Her gaze dropped to my left hand, where the ring on it felt suddenly very heavy. Like it was a weight that would carry me down and eventually drown me if I didn’t find some way to be free of it. “And for the record, I believe you love Jacob. Hell, I even believe the selfish asshole loves you. But love is not enough. It isn’t.” Her head whipped so hard that as she shook it, half of her ponytail fell out again. “Not when it comes to the person you want to spend your life with. You need trust, and sacrifice, and friendship and loyalty and a shit-ton of other stuff.” She stopped listing things off on her fingers to stab her finger at me. “Love is not enough. That’s a lie. And you know it.”

  Fresh tears were winding down my face, but I didn’t use the tissues to wipe them away. I was tired of hiding my emotions. Exhausted from disguising my feelings. “How do you know I believe that?”

  “Because you know the difference.” Her expression called me out, knowing she had me.

  “Yeah, I do,” I said as I slid the ring off of my finger. Whatever the wedding meant, wherever that left the three of us, I knew one thing. “Matt. He’s the difference.”

  Maggie kind of fell into the desk chair, like she’d just drained the last of her energy. “You have no idea how many years I’ve waited for you to say that,” she hollered, stomping her feet on the floor. Her eyebrows bounced, a huge smile in place. “We poppin’ the champagne now?”

  “Not yet,” I said, already backing toward the door. I didn’t bother with shoes or changing—I’d lost enough time as it was. “I have things to do first. I have two people I owe a couple of explanations to.”

  “You might want some champagne in your system for that,” Maggie suggested as I pulled the door open.

  “Got anything stronger?” I teased, pausing outside the door.

  “Not on me.” She patted her pockets. “I downed the last mini bottle on the elevator ride up to get me through this talk.”

  Before I left, I paused. “Thanks, Maggie. For everything you did before, and everything you’ve done just now.”

  She made a face, like she’d done nothing. “Hey, you need a wing-woman?” she called as the door started to shut behind me.

  “I’d love one, but I have to do this one on my own.”

  Then I started down the hall, feeling like I was taking the first step in a new life.

  My life. My fucking life.

  It was so entwined with hers, I couldn’t tell what was me and what was her anymore.

  It was like trying to untangle a ball of yarn the size of the Empire State Building without having a clue as to where the end was sticking out. If there was an end to begin with, because it didn’t feel like there was. It felt like an unending loop, no end and no beginning, when I thought about my life with Cora.

  If that was true, I was going to have to create one. I needed to take a knife and cut through the tangled mess if I had any hope for a somewhat normal life after this.

  After marrying my brother’s fiancée. After saying “I do” to the woman I’d spent the better part of my life loving from a distance. After experiencing her body and sharing mine with her. After her choosing him all over again.

  Some people claimed people like Cora would be the death of them. I knew better though. Death would be a relief contrasted to the next fifty years of life spent without her.

  I wished she’d be the death of me already, because I wasn’t sure I wanted my life if it meant not having her in it. In some way. In any way. I’d learned not to be picky when it came to time with her.

  If I stared at that damn ceiling for a minute more, thinking about her, I was going to lose my mind. Rolling up in bed, I checked the time. It was as dark outside as it was inside my cabin, which meant it had gotten late. It was almost ten. More than eight hours had passed since I walked out of her hotel room, leaving her with the Adams brother she’d chosen. Again. I shouldn’t have been surprised; it wasn’t anything new. I shouldn’t have felt so damn wronged—I was the one who’d set this whole train wreck into motion when I shrugged into Jacob’s tux.

  She hadn’t come looking for me. She hadn’t called. She hadn’t sent a message. She hadn’t wanted me.

  Big fucking surprise.

  What did I expect? I’d always been Plan B in her life, and after how I’d lied to her with the whole groom-swap thing, why would she have any reason to pick me over Jacob?

  The devil you knew was better than the one you didn’t.

  That was what I kept telling myself as I checked my email on the off chance she’d written me a lengthy message instead. Nothing.

  It confirmed my decision to book a flight out of there tomorrow. She might be confused about what had happened between us, but she knew the way she felt about Jacob. This battle for her would end the same as the rest—I’d lose.

  A knock on the cabin door shook me from my thoughts. I knew three people on this island at present, but I guessed only one of them would be standing outside my door right now. She was probably here to show her support, give me a kick in the ass, and try to distract me from my dark mood.

  After sliding out of bed, I padded across the cabin toward the door. It had started raining a few hours ago, and it sounded like a sad song playing on my roof, echoing into the dark space.

  When I pulled the door open, I knew my eyes were deceiving me. Or my mind was. The woman I thought I saw standing in front of me could not be the one who was really there. I just stood there for a moment, my chest moving as I stared at the woman who had been the creator of every high in my life, and the reason for every low.

  “Matt . . .”

  When she said my name, I knew I wasn’t seeing things or imagining her. Her hair and bathrobe were wet from the rain, her skin gleaming and prickled with goose bumps. Her light eyes lit up the dark, looking as though they’d been through their own storm tonight.

  She was here. In front of me. Inches away.

  It was the scenario I’d always hoped for, but it was for a different reason than the one I needed. She was here to make sure I was all right. I’d tell her I was of course, then she’d walk away, back to him, and nothing would be all right.

  “What do you want, Cora?” My hands curled into the doorway above my head. I needed support. I wasn’t sure I could keep standing on my own two feet any longer. “I’m tired—exhausted. You and me.” My head shook slowly. “I can’t keep doing this.”

  She slid a step closer. Then another. Her eyes ran up my body until they finished on mine. There was a look in them I’d never seen before, one I didn’t have a name for. All I knew was that looking at her looking at me gave me a current of hope where none had been.

  Her hands spread over my stomach, and her fingers curled into me. Her touch felt like a shockwave reverberating through me until I felt nothing else.

  “Neither can I,” she whispered, moving closer again so her body was pressed against the length of mine.

  Her words hadn’t finished forming before her mouth crashed into mine. I was so surprised by it, I staggered back, and she fell back with me. Forming my arms around her, I regained my footing long enough to kick the door closed before I backed her into the room.

  This could have been a dream. This could have been reality. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was there with her now. I wasn’t going to waste a moment second-guessing or punching pause to consider if this was right or wrong.

  Her arms tied around my neck as I lifted her, my own arms winding around her body like I was trying to find the best hold. As though I were trying to figure out a way to hold on to her without ever letting go.

  Her lips moved against mine in feverish, random pulses until I couldn’t breathe. As I lowered her onto the bed, I pulled back just enough so I could look her in the eyes. She stared right back, no measure of doubt or guilt consuming them.

  “Tell m
e you’re here because you want to be with me.” I crawled up the bed with her in my arms, feeling the wet from her clothes seep into mine, feeling her chest move hard against mine from the way we were both breathing. “Tell me you’re here because you want me.”

  When Cora’s head was settled into a pillow, I leaned back so I was hovering above her, knees pinned over her lap, eyes aimed at the single most perfect sight I’d ever seen. Her in my bed, having chosen me, staring at me like I was the only one who could give her what she needed.

  Her hand found mine, and her palm pressed into mine before she braided our fingers together. The ring was gone. The engagement ring, the wedding band—they were both gone.

  “I’m here because I want to be with you.” Her other hand slid my hair back from my forehead. “I want you, Matt.”

  When I exhaled, I felt purged. All at once. Instantly. From all of the false hopes and pain, the secret longing and ache.

  Cora worked my shirt up my body, furious and fast. Once she’d pulled it off her hands moved over me in the same fashion. My chest crashed back down over hers, the ache between my legs so intense I felt as if I could blackout. When I pivoted my hips into hers, the ache receded just enough for my vision to clear. Cora gasped, pumping her hips into mine again, her cold, wet legs twisting around my back.

  My mouth found hers. Our tongues collided together as though we were racing against time, the end of the world moments away.

  The way her breath caught when my hands touched her in certain places.

  The way she gasped when I pressed my lap into hers.

  The sound of her exhale, ragged and drawn-out, when my mouth moved against her neck.

  Those sounds I’d never forget. No matter where life went from this moment, they’d stay a part of me forever. The sounds Cora made for me as I loved her body was enough to sustain a man in his darkest hour on his darkest day.

  When her hands slipped between us, her fingers working madly to undo my jeans before tearing them off, my body stilled.

  “Wait,” I breathed against her neck. “Slow down. Let me take my time with you.” When my lips covered her neck this time, they crept slowly across her skin, tasting the way the rain mixed with the salt of her skin. My hand slid up the bends of her body, memorizing every dip and curve. She shuddered below me, her own body stilling. “My whole life has been stolen moments, closed doors, and rushed encounters with you. I don’t want to rush right now. Let me just enjoy you. Let me just be with you.”