His touch eased up on me then, his fingers just grazing my ribs tenderly with the rough pads of his fingers. “Yeah, and that just wouldn’t be true ’cause the only girl I’ve even wanted to be with since I got back here is you.”
I stilled, my smile evaporating as he gazed down at me intently, his expression as serious as a heart attack.
He continued. “When I came back here, I just went through the motions. My mom was gone. My grandfather, too. I worked. I ate. Went out. I didn’t have anything or anyone. I was even thinking about reenlisting.”
My chest grew tight, felt constricted as I looked up at him, thinking about that. That one night’s chance encounter had put us in each other’s paths. We could have never met. He could have shipped back out and I could still be that same girl going through the motions, moving from one hookup to the next. Just the idea made my heart hurt.
“What about your cousin? Beth?” I asked, searching for something normal to say when I was totally freaking out inside over a hypothetical.
The slight smile that curved his well-carved lips faded. He eased back down on the bed. I propped myself up on one elbow to look down at him now, concerned I’d said something wrong. “Shaw?”
He dropped an arm over his forehead, staring up at the ceiling. “Beth doesn’t want anything to do with me. She and my aunt. They’re not even inviting me to Beth’s wedding.”
“What?” Outrage coursed through me. “Why—”
“I remind them of Adam.”
My mouth worked, hunting for the right words, but there were none. “That’s not fair.”
He exhaled. “I can’t blame them. They lost their brother. Their son.”
“He was your cousin, too. Your friend. You lost him, too.”
“Yeah. I know. But I was supposed to look out for him. He joined because of me.”
“That can’t be your—”
“He joined because of me . . . so he died because of me.”
I shook my head. “That logic is just . . .” I lifted a hand and brought it down on his chest, pressing firmly, as if I could somehow convey the utter wrong of this. “It’s just screwed up.”
“Beth tried.” He shrugged on the bed like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t talking about his family rejecting him. Like it didn’t hurt. But I knew. I knew just how painful, how devastating it could be. “She’s always been Little Miss Fix-it. Whenever Adam and I got into fights as kids, she would force us to make up. One summer in high school we were all drinking out at the lake and Adam’s girlfriend tried to kiss me. He took a swing at me, but Beth set him straight. She wouldn’t let anything get between us. We were family then.”
“You’re still family,” I whispered even as I realized how ridiculous those words were coming from me. What did I know about family?
“Beth came over here shortly after I got back.” His hand slightly tightened in my hair. “She wanted to know about Adam. About what went down over there. How it happened. The family isn’t given many details, but she sat at my kitchen table and told me she had to know everything. She had to know how her little brother died.”
“And then what?”
His chest lifted on a breath. “So I did what she asked. I told her. Everything. And now she can’t look at me. Now she sees that . . . the image I gave her of Adam. Dying. I am that memory for her.”
“That’s not fair,” I repeated, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “You did what she asked. You told her—”
“Yeah. I did. I thought it was the right thing. She deserved the truth. Closure, I guess. I would still do it again even knowing now that I would lose her.” He looked at me then. He brought his hand to my cheek. “Look at you. You try to act so tough, but you’re just a big softie, Emerson.”
I smiled wanly. “Yeah. Now you know my secret.” I was soft. Weak. Shaw gave his cousin what she wanted no matter what it cost him. She was the last of his family here. His mom had moved on and started a new life without him. Beth should have been here for him. Like he had been there for her when she asked for the details behind Adam’s death. He needed her. For some reason this made me angry. It was as if Beth represented my parents. The rejection they had dealt me all my life. After their marriage ended, they really didn’t have room for me in their lives.
But Shaw told Beth the truth and tried to give her the closure she needed. That was him. He stuck to his principles and did what he thought was right in any situation whether it was easy for him or not. He pursued me even when I shoved him away. When any other girl out there would have been happy to fall into his arms, he kept coming after me.
I wanted to be more like that. Bold and courageous.
I wanted to live without fear.
I was scared. All the time. I realized that now. I’ve always been scared. My desperate quest for control, only picking guys I could twist around my finger and manipulate, never letting one in even if they wanted more from me. It was just me running. Hiding. And I didn’t want to run or hide anymore. I couldn’t do it. Not if I was going to ever become whole. Not if Shaw and I ever stood a chance.
I brushed my hand along his strong jaw, reveling in the scratchy end-of-day bristle. I thought about all he’d seen. All he had overcome. The dark things he had lived through and he was still here, unbroken. Still ready to embrace life.
Suddenly I wasn’t scared anymore. He gave me courage.
I knew what I had to do.
Chapter 18
I WAS A LITTLE late to the rehearsal dinner. Parking on a Friday night was a bitch. I hovered in the threshold of the ballroom, eyeing the crowd. There were at least two hundred people in attendance. If this was just the rehearsal dinner, I couldn’t imagine how many guests would be at the wedding tomorrow. I guess if your dad was a senator, you could expect half of Congress.
I scanned the crowd, spotting Mom looking half her age in a canary blue cocktail dress. She wove through the tables, laughing and smiling, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. She was in her element.
Her face lit up when she spotted me. She rushed over to greet me, taking both my hands in her own. “My sweet girl! You’re here!” She made a great show of kissing each cheek, her gaze flitting around to see who was watching us. “You couldn’t have worn something with a little bit of color?”
I glanced down at my black dress rather helplessly. It was classy. V-necked with tiny straps gathered loosely at the shoulders. My two-toned black and camel half boots looked good with it. Pepper and Georgia at least had expressed admiration. I’d tried on a number of outfits for their approval before landing on this ensemble.
“Don!” Mom called my stepfather over.
He extricated himself from the small circle of men he’d been deep in conversation with and approached me.
“Emerson.” He hugged me. I endured the stiff embrace. It never felt natural or genuine. It was weird to consider that we were related. I was on friendlier terms with my dentist.
“Don,” I returned.
“Glad you could make it.”
“Of course she made it,” Mom inserted, her gaze flicking around again, clearly desperate that no one overhear and get the idea that we were anything less than the perfect family.
“Come.” Mom linked arms with me. “Let’s mingle.”
The next thirty minutes was a whirlwind of introductions. I pasted a smile on my face, but I felt like I was holding my breath. Waiting for the moment when I would come face-to-face with Justin and Melanie.
It was as if Mom was distracting me. I could see the wariness in her eyes every time she looked at me. Like I might spit pea soup or something when I finally saw Justin. I guess she hadn’t thought this far ahead when she begged me to attend.
The inevitable happened when Melanie spotted me. She went from glowing to radiant as she hurried across the room to hug me. “Emerson! You came! I wish I’d known. I would have seated you at the head table—”
I laughed weakly. “That’s okay. Besides.” I looked around at everyone milling in t
he room. “Is anyone even sitting?”
Her fingers clung to my arms. “True.” She glanced around. “Everyone seems like they’re having a good time.”
“Of course they are,” Mom gushed. “The food is delish.” As if to prove her point, she plucked a lobster canapé from a passing tray and bit into it with a groan. “The champagne is superb. The orchestra is lovely.” She gestured widely with her hand. “It’s the Four Seasons.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. Nothing like Mom patting herself on the back. I’m surprised she wasn’t wearing a flashing button that read WORLD’S BEST HOSTESS.
“Have you seen Justin yet? He’ll be so thrilled you made it.” She stood on her tiptoes and searched the crush. “Oh! There he is! Justin!” She waved him over.
I followed her gaze. My stepbrother looked up. Grinning, he made his way over to us. My stomach churned as I assessed him. He’d changed in five years. He was a little bit thicker. No longer a lanky twenty-year-old. His jaw was less defined, his face somewhat bloated looking.
His small blue eyes leveled on me. “Emerson.” He folded me into his arms and it felt . . . okay. Brotherly and natural. “So glad you’re here. Thank you.” He patted my back, his voice softer, for my ears alone, “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I came.” I looked from him to Mom to Melanie, and I meant it. It was a good thing. I’d conquered my fears.
Mom beamed and squeezed my hand. “I knew you would.”
“C’mon. I want to introduce you to my parents.” Melanie pulled me after her. Justin followed, a dutiful fiancé, still smiling and shaking his head indulgently.
Over the next hour I was plied with drink and food and introduced to almost all two hundred people in attendance. At least it felt that way. Melanie kept me close to her side. “I’m just really mad at you, you know.” She pouted at me.
I blinked. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t come around sooner. You should be in my wedding, only now it’s too late.”
“Oh.” I smiled, flattered even as I was relieved that I wasn’t. Coming here tonight was one thing. Actually being in the wedding party? No thanks. “That’s okay, really.”
“No, you should be one of my bridesmaids. Seriously, my cousin, Pauline, who I can’t stand, is a bridesmaid. And you’re not. How does that make any sense?”
I stifled my cringe at the idea of me in Justin’s wedding. He might appear to have changed and I might really like his bride-to-be, but that would just be . . . weird.
I was saved from lying and agreeing that I wished I could be in her wedding when someone bumped me from behind and caused me to collide with Melanie. Her cocktail splashed down the front of my dress.
“Oh!” She patted at me with a napkin. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “It’s black. I’ll just go pat it dry.”
She clasped my hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
At that moment, Melanie’s mother appeared at her side. “Dear, you’ve hardly said more than a hello to Mrs. Rothman.”
Melanie looked at me uncertainly. “Ugh. I used to babysit for her.”
“You go. I’ll be fine,” I assured her.
Melanie’s mother nodded. “See? She’ll be fine, Melanie. Let her mingle. She’s a pretty girl. Some nice young man will latch on to her.” Melanie’s mother beamed at me and nodded, her well-coiffed hair not even moving with the action.
“Okay. I’ll find you in a little while.”
I nodded and worked my way through the crowd outside the ballroom. There was a line outside the ladies’ room, so I crossed the hotel lobby to use the restroom on the other side.
As I suspected, it was empty. I took my time, breathing in the silence and decompressing after the noise and deluge of people. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection for a long moment. The girl who stared back at me wasn’t the same girl from a couple of months ago. That girl would never have come tonight. She would never have faced her past or been open to the fact that maybe things could be different. That she could possibly have a relationship with her mother. That her stepbrother maybe wasn’t Satan after all—or at least not anymore.
Maybe. Maybe she could fall in love and have a normal relationship.
An image of Shaw filled my mind. Okay, above normal. Maybe I could have an amazing relationship with an amazing guy.
My reflection smiled slowly back at me, tentative and hopeful. With a lightness to my step, I exited the bathroom, my boot heels clicking on the tiled floor. I pushed through the door, stepped into the corridor, and stopped.
Justin was waiting there, leaning against the wall, one hand tucked casually into the front pocket of his slacks.
“Justin,” I said rather dumbly.
“Hey, Em.”
“Hello,” I replied, feeling my forehead crease. What was he doing here? “Did you follow me?”
“I just wanted a moment alone to thank you for coming. It was the last thing I expected after I called you.”
“Well.” I nodded. “You were right.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I was. About what?”
“Maybe it is time to move on and try to be a family.”
He smiled. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.” He pushed off the wall and advanced on me. “I’ve only ever wanted us to be friends. We were once, remember?”
I nodded, backing up until I couldn’t go any farther. “Yeah. Before that night.”
He flattened a hand against the wall, near my head. “About that night. I was wrong.” He shook his head. “It was so stupid of me.”
I exhaled. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting what he did—the closest he’d ever come to an apology. “Thank you for saying that,” I murmured.
“I was drunk. You were young. I should have waited. You weren’t ready.” He dipped his head and smothered my lips with his, ramming his tongue inside my mouth.
Stunned, I pushed at his chest, shoving him back. He blinked down at me, startled. I slapped him, my palm connecting with a crack to his face.
He flattened a hand to his cheek. “What the hell—”
“What are you doing?” I shook my head. “I thought you had changed! I thought you were different, but here you are. The same prick you always were. Only now I’m not a little girl. So stay the fuck away from me.” I stabbed a finger in his chest.
He snatched hold of my finger. Unsmiling. Eyes hard. “I get it now. You came here for a little payback. Right?” He sneered. “You spread all those lies about me all those years ago and now you—”
“They weren’t lies,” I reminded him, tugging my finger free. “You know it happened.”
His upper lip curled over his teeth. “What happened was that you couldn’t leave me alone.”
“Me?”
Everything inside me burned to lash out. To remind him that I had been fifteen years old. If he hadn’t been so drunk, if I hadn’t run out of the room, if—
I blinked hard. Then that night would have ended very differently.
“Yeah. You kept throwing yourself at me from the moment our parents got together.”
Is that how he saw it? I had looked up to him like a brother. And he wrecked that, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. I shook my head, unwilling to argue with him about what had really happened all those years ago. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to stir up the past.” No. I came here because I thought I was burying it. Stupid. I saw that now. “You’re still an asshole.” I tried to step around him, but he grabbed my shoulder and slammed me back against the wall. I bit my lip, muffling my cry.
“And you’re still just a cocktease.” He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my cleavage. I had thought the dress tasteful before. Classy. But the way he looked at me made me feel dirty.
He traced the neckline, his finger dipping inside to brush the top of my breasts. “Or maybe not such a c
ocktease anymore. I bet you spread your thighs plenty these days.” He shook his head and made a tsking sound with his tongue. “I fantasized about popping your cherry.”
“Go to hell.” I slapped his hand away from me.
He chuckled, looking me over. “No little girl anymore.”
“That’s right. I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t scare me. And you can’t do this to me.” Not again. “Maybe I’ll march in there and tell Melanie—”
His creepy smile vanished. “You stay away from Melanie.” He jabbed a finger close to my face again. “One word and you’ll see just how big of an asshole I can really be.”
His fingers tightened on my shoulder and I winced, certain he was bruising me, but determined not to show he was succeeding in hurting me. “What’s the matter? Afraid she’ll believe me?”
Beneath his mask of fury, I read the anxiety there. Yeah. He was worried. Maybe something had happened before. Maybe she already had doubts where he was concerned, but he had persuaded her to his side.
“You little cunt,” he bit out. “Don’t fuck with me—”
“Justin?”
I sucked in a breath and looked around him for the source of that soft voice, even though I knew gut deep who I would see.
Melanie hovered there in her beautiful yellow dress. The pink flush that had brightened her cheeks all evening had vanished. She looked pale as bone as she clutched her hands together in front of her.
“Justin, what are you doing?” Her keen blue eyes flitted back and forth between us.
“Nothing, pumpkin.” He advanced on her quickly, taking her clutched hands into his. “Emerson and I were just talking—”
“You called her a . . . you called her a horrible name.” It didn’t surprise me that she couldn’t say the word. She probably never had, and she clearly couldn’t fathom why he would.
Melanie swung her gaze on me, pinning me to the spot. “Emerson?” My name hung there, heavy with question as she tugged her hands from his.
I shrugged helplessly. What could I say? Should I actually open my mouth and warn her about the kind of man she was marrying? “I’m sorry, Melanie.”