“How come I just knew I’d find you here on your day off?” Derrick greets with a smug smile as he steps onto the deck of the monohull.
“Hmm, I don’t know, D? Could it have anything to do with the fact that I need to get the Royal Shank ready for the big Fourth of July race you’re organizing in two weeks?” I reply, not lifting my eyes from the clipboard in my hands, too absorbed with the giant list of things I still have to do to get this boat ready in time.
“Nah, that’s not it,” he muses with a smirk. “This beauty is a winner. She doesn’t need any more bells and whistles than she already has,” he adds assuredly, running his fingers through the smooth varnished rim before plopping onto the white leather two-seater. “All this baby needs is a good captain with his head on straight, to win the trophy and the hundred-k prize money that comes along with it.”
“Then maybe you should leave said captain alone to handle his business instead of disturbing him with your unwarranted advice,” I retort, annoyed that he’s determined to pull my focus off my list of chores.
“I see that you’re in a mood,” he states, his scrutinizing gaze eyeing me up and down.
“I’m always in a mood. Part of my fucking charm, D. You should be used to it by now.”
“True, but today your inner asshole is coming out extra potent. It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone being back on the island, would it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I grumble with a clenched jaw, doing a piss poor job of pretending I have no clue what he’s referencing.
“Right,” the fucker has the audacity to chuckle.
I swear, if he wasn’t my best friend, I’d have sucker punched the rich prick a long time ago.
When his intrusive stare starts to get under my skin, I have no choice but to pull my gaze off the clipboard and onto him.
“Why the fuck are you here, Derrick? Is it only to bust my balls, or does this visit actually have a purpose to it?”
“Can’t a guy just pop in on his friend to see how he’s doing?”
“If this was a chick flick, sure. But since it’s not, how about you make yourself useful and help me with the pile of things I still need to do to get ready?” I throw him the clipboard, making sure it lands on his lap with a harsh thud.
Derrick doesn’t so much as flinch at the small aggression, easily discarding the clipboard to the side, his stare never wavering from mine. I stay rooted to my spot as he leans forward, with his hands clasped in front of his knees, as his light green eyes take on a darker, more serious shade.
“All work and no play makes for a dull life, Noah,” he says, his previous playful tone nowhere in sight. “I’m worried about you.”
“Are you worried about me or your investment?” I arch a brow defensively, crossing my arms over my chest to look impervious to his concern.
“I could give two fucks about my investment in the Royal Shank, and you know it.” He frowns, displeased that I would suggest such a thing. With a scowl to his face, I watch him lean back onto the seat and spread his arms to each side. “FYI, I still hate the name you gave her. Royal Shank. The fuck does Royal Shank even mean?”
“I quite like the name.” The corner of my lips lift up knowingly. “It suits her just fine.”
“I disagree, but since it has never been my place to tell you what to do with your own boat, it will have to do. Even if the name you gave the poor girl doesn’t do her justice.”
“Our boat, remember?” I interject. “She is as much yours as she is mine.”
“We both know that isn’t true,” he quickly says with a frown. “All I did was cough up the money to buy her. You’re the one who dotes on her and spends all his free time making her shine. Money doesn’t compare to the love you shower her with. I find that’s the case in most things in life.”
It’s his deep frown that unsettles me.
“Looks like I’m not the only one in a mood.”
“I guess you can say that.” He snorts sardonically. “But unlike you, I face my shit head on and do something about it,” he adds with a familiar expression on his face that tells me that I’m the problem he needs to sort out.
“What’s this all about, D? Why are you really here? Are you here to check up on the boat or is there something specific on your mind you want to talk about?” I ask him point blank.
“Grab us a beer, why don’t you, and take a seat,” he orders in that stern tone of his that always means business.
Seeing as I’m not going to get any work done while he’s here, I do as he says and grab two beers out of the cooler, throwing his in the air for him to catch. I then stroll over to sit beside him and quickly open my beer to take a swig.
I usually don’t like to drink before noon, but fuck it. Today, I’ll make an exception.
I’m halfway done with my beer while Derrick continues to sip away at his, taking his sweet ass time to tell me the real reason why he’s come to the dock this Saturday morning.
Because with him, there is always a reason.
I’ve known Derrick Monroe for most of my life. Everything he does is purposely calculated. He doesn’t do anything without having put some thought behind his actions or choices. And seeing as these last few years he doesn’t leave Daisy’s side unless he’s absolutely unable to avoid it, is all I need to know that this unexpected visit of his isn’t just your run of the mill buddy check.
Then again, Daisy is otherwise occupied this morning to pay him much mind, so maybe Derrick did just pop over to kill some time while she’s busy with her own guest.
Afterall, Daisy has plenty of sisterly bonding to catch up on.
They both do.
As quickly as the sullen thought slithers inside my brain, I push it away and stash it in some dark corner of my mind, not wanting to go there just yet.
Today is going to be hard enough for me as it is without my somber thoughts getting in the way. Hence why I promised myself I’d keep busy the whole day just so I’d have something to do instead of obsessing over the prodigal daughter-slash-sister’s return. And Derrick’s mere presence is fucking up my carefully laid out plans of ignoring the reality that’s waiting for me back at my own damn house—his stilled silence not making it any easier on my frazzled nerves.
“The suspense is killing me, D. Just come out and say what you need to, so I can get back to work,” I order, unable to withstand the silence any longer.
“Have you ever loved someone?” he asks out of the blue. “I mean really loved someone… more than you ever thought possible? More than yourself even?”
“Fuck. It’s official. I am stuck in a fucking chick flick. Are we going to start braiding each other’s hair and painting our nails, too?” I snap sarcastically, drinking the rest of my beer and strangling the can into a pulp before throwing it in the trash.
“Stop being an obtuse fuck and answer the fucking question,” he demands in that assertive tone that has been passed down to him by every Monroe generation that came before him.
After an uncomfortable pause, I reluctantly answer the fucker and nod.
“Then you know that there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for that person.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” I chastise, getting up from my seat to grab another beer.
If I’m going to endure this type of interrogation, there’s no way I’ll be doing it sober.
Fuck him and fuck that.
“Nope.” The arrogant prick has the nerve to pop the p in the end as if pissing me off is just another pastime for him. “I’m merely having an honest conversation with my best friend. A friend who has been a brother to me.”
I turn around to face him as I crack another can open.
“That’s kind of an incestuous thing to say considering I used to date your sister in high school,” I goad, trying to lighten the mood, but to my bitter disgruntlement, Derrick is having none of it.
“She wasn’t the only one you dated,” he says, running his thumb over his beer can’s rim.
“True. I dated plenty of girls back in the day,” I affirm nonchalantly, leaning against the rail, intent on keeping a healthy distance between us.
“But you only ever loved one,” he deadpans.
This mother—
“I’m getting bored with this conversation, D,” I say with a bite. “Just say what you have to say and be done with it.”
“Very well,” he says, placing his can on the deck floor to look me dead in the eye. “No use beating around the bush. I’ll come right out and say it then.”
“About fucking time,” I grumble, taking a huge gulp of my beer since something tells me I’ll need the liquid courage just to hear him out.
“As you know, it’s taken me almost a decade to get the woman I love to agree to marry me. Ten fucking years, Noah.” He lets out an exhale before running his fingers through his dark hair. “Now I’ve been patient through all of it because Daisy deserves that from me and a whole lot more. She deserves someone who won’t bail on her at the first sign of trouble. She deserves someone who will love her for the free spirit woman that she is and cherish every little thing about her. I am that man, Noah. And I’ll prove to her time and time again that there is nothing I won’t do to ensure her happiness.”
“Again… I don’t hear a question in there, D,” I provoke with a flare to my nostrils, already sensing where he’s going with this.
“By the end of this summer, I will marry the love of my life, and nothing, and I mean nothing, will fuck that up for me. Is that understood?” He cocks a menacing brow.
“Is this your way of telling me that you’re worried that somehow I’ll ruin your wedding day for you?” I ask with a chuckle. “I’d be more concerned about the flight risk that is your fianceé. Or do you honestly believe that Daisy won’t get cold feet and try to run away before the big day?”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he states with a confident grin. “But I also know my girl. No amount of cold feet will stop her from walking down the aisle and becoming my wife. Besides, I’m more than man enough to warm her up when she starts to get chilly. Don’t you worry about that.” He winks.
“Dude, that’s my sister you’re talking about,” I groan at his not-so-subtle innuendo. “I don’t need to hear that shit.”
“Yeah, well, payback is a bitch.” He grins, pleased with my disgusted scowl. But his cheerful mood quickly reverts back to the serious one he’s so intent to keep plastered to his face. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I’ve been clueless to the fact that the past few years have been hard on you. I know they have. But my empathy for your struggle will only go so far if you do anything to jeopardize my wedding. Daisy deserves to have the best fucking wedding Thatcher’s Bay has ever seen, and I’m not going to let anyone fuck it up for her. Not you. Not anyone.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and stare daggers at him.
“I wouldn’t do that to Daisy,” I mutter, my back molars grinding so hard I’m surprised they don’t break. “I love her too, asshole. I wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
Derrick glares at me for the longest time, but then relaxes when he sees I’m telling him the truth.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” he says, getting up from his seat. “Then I guess I only have one more thing to ask of you.”
“And what’s that?” I bark angrily.
But to my surprise, Derrick places his hands on my shoulders and smiles.
“That you be my best man.”
“What?” I blurt out at the astonishing request.
“You sound surprised.” He chuckles, giving my shoulders a comforting squeeze.
Maybe because a few seconds ago he looked like he’d have my balls if I did anything to tarnish his big day, but I keep that remark to myself.
“I wasn’t bullshitting when I said I considered you like a brother to me. Not only that, but you’ve been one to Daisy, too. You’re family, Noah. Not sure why me asking you to be my best man is such a surprise to you.”
“I don’t know, D. Wouldn’t you prefer to ask one of those Harvard assholes you call friends? I know your parents would.”
He pulls his hands off me and shakes his head.
“It’s my wedding. Not my parents’,” he answers sternly. “Besides, those guys don’t know me like you do.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, all things considered. I’m sure Daisy has asked—” but I’m unable to finish my sentence.
Derrick saves me from the awkwardness of saying her name out loud and ends my thought for me.
“She has. Or at least that was Daisy’s plan for this morning,” he confides with a warm smile. “But I’m hoping that won’t dissuade you from standing by my side.”
“If I say yes, will we stop with this touchy feely shit?” I groan.
“Sure.” He chuckles lightheartedly.
“Fuck it. Then I guess you got yourself a best man,” I concede with a shrug.
Derrick’s smile stretches as he pulls me into a hug, honestly grateful that I gave in to his request.
“Yeah, okay. Enough of that,” I mumble, pushing him off me. “Otherwise, people are going to think that we’re the ones getting married.”
“You think our bromance is ready to take that next step?” he jokes, giving me a light punch on the shoulder.
“Bromance?” I arch a brow. “Jesus-fucking-Christ, Monroe, you have got to stop watching those fucking romcoms with Daisy. She’s a bad fucking influence if she’s got you swinging out words like bromance.” I laugh, feeling a bit lighter than I did before he stepped onto my boat.
“Trust me, I’m as much of a bad influence on her as she is on me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Again, save me from the sordid details.” I roll my eyes. “Now, if you’re quite done, how about you help me out this morning? I’d welcome another pair of hands to get the Royal Shank ready.”
He looks around the deck and starts pulling up his sleeves.
“Why the hell not? It’s not like I have anything better to do today.”
I offer him a smile, grateful for his company, more than I am for his help.
Surprisingly enough, the rest of the day flies by without a hitch, and it’s only when the sun begins to set over the tranquil oceanic horizon that I realize I’ve survived most of it without my mind trickling back to the real reason why I decided to spend my day off on this boat.
Not that I thought I had much choice.
I hardly slept last night, just thinking about how I’d react when I saw her again. Would I play it cool and nonchalant, or would I completely lose my shit the instant our eyes met? I went back and forth all night just thinking about us finally being in the same room together, ultimately deciding that I wasn’t mentally prepared to handle such an ordeal. So when I heard Daisy’s car drive up, I picked up my shit and got the hell out of there.
A coward’s choice, for sure, but the only one I could make regardless.
“Shit! Is that the time?” Derrick groans after a quick glance at his Rolex, successfully pulling me out of my reverie.
“Bailing on me already?” I ask when he starts fixing his clothes and hair to look more presentable.
“Daisy and I are supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight,” he explains with a grimace. “The three of them are probably already waiting for me at the restaurant. Goddamn it.”
“I’m sure Daisy can entertain herself just fine without you for a little while,” I tease him. “She’s a big girl and can take care of herself.”
“I know that. I just don’t like leaving her alone with my parents, that’s all.”
My brows knit together at the way Derrick suddenly looks on edge, so in contrast to his usual cool and collected demeanor.
“Your parents still not on board with the wedding?” I ask, going to the root of his problems.
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what they’re on board with or not. Never have, never will.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Daisy.” He sighs in frustration. “You know how important family is to her. She’s determined to win them over for my sake, even though I’ve repeatedly told her that they’re not worth the hassle.”
“Hate to break it to you, D, but when Daisy gets something into that thick skull of hers, not even the Almighty himself can change her mind.”
“Don’t I know it.” Derrick chuckles proudly. “Anyway, you good here?”
“Yeah. Go and deal with your shit. I’m just going to hang here for a bit longer.”
But instead of leaving, Derrick throws me an inquisitive look.
“You’re not going home?”
“Actually, I was thinking of crashing here tonight.”
“Is that what you were thinking of doing?” he says with a frown. “And will you be sleeping here for the entire summer too?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” I quip, pretending that the gleam of disappointment in his eyes doesn’t faze me in the least.
“You’ll have to go home eventually.”
“Eventually doesn’t mean tonight, now does it?” I retort while making myself comfortable by grabbing a beer and lounging on the helm seat.
I’ve lost count of how many beers I’ve had today, but apparently, they weren’t enough if Derrick’s scowl can so easily dampen the light buzz I got going on.
“Isn’t there some place you need to be?” I ask when it looks like he’s no longer in such a rush to leave.
“Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath, finally turning his back to me to make his quick getaway.
Unfortunately, Derrick doesn’t so much as take two steps before he’s turning around to face me again, obviously not done with giving me a hard time.
“Shit. I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he starts hesitantly, “But you’ll find out eventually. Might as well come from me.”
“What are you on about now, D?” I ask, feigning boredom.
“They broke up.”
“Who broke up?” I parrot, confused.
“Take a wild fucking guess, asshole,” he chides with a poignant look.
Suddenly, the clarity of what he’s trying to convey slaps me across the face and sobers me up, better than a hundred cold showers ever could.
“Not sure why you would think I’d be interested in knowing that,” I explain with a bored expression stitched to my face, but even I’m not buying the bullshit I’m selling.
“Right. Why would that interest you? My bad,” he says, his sly grin just another rude insult to the open wound that is my fucking heart.
“You still here?” I counter, making a show of stretching my legs, so he can see that I’m not one bit rattled by the news.
His teasing smile drops from his lips and is replaced by one of brotherly concern and affection.
“Go home, Noah. Don’t pretend you don’t want to. You might not get another chance like this one again. Just…go home.”
And with that parting advice, he goes off into the night, leaving me to stew in my seat.
Fucker.
I’m of two minds to pick up my phone and text the prick that he should find himself another best man for his wedding just to fuck with him since its apparent he takes great joy in fucking with me. First, he orders me to be on my best behavior and not do something stupid—like mess with his fianceé’s maid of honor—only to tell me hours later that she’s back on the market, knowing full well what that would do to me.
They broke up.
They fucking broke up.
How is that even possible?
Fuck.
What did that dipshit Gael do to you, baby, for you to end it with him?
I know it had to be you that called it quits, because no sane man would ever let you go.
Did he not love you enough, little stalker?
Or understand all your awkward quirks and eccentricities?
Did he not make you feel like a goddess amongst men like you deserved?
Did he hurt you, baby?
Did he?
Like I hurt you?
My hands ball into fists at the painful thought, making me hurl my head back onto the headrest. I stay there for what feels like forever, just staring up at the vast moonlit sky, wondering what could have possibly happened for their relationship to come to such an abrupt end.
Gael doesn’t seem the sort to step out on my girl.
I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him at that godforsaken Christmas yacht party that he was one of the good ones—a threat to my heart, if I ever saw one. And from the few photos I let myself see of the happy couple over the years, they were enough to convince me that Gael would never wander or stray from her bed.
Like me, he only had eyes for her.
Not that I was able to stomach seeing more than a few pics of them on Instagram.
Fuck.
I don’t think I’ve logged online since I saw that shit.
But I needed to know if she was happy.
That’s all I needed to see. That someone was loving her, protecting her—cherishing her. Once I was certain that she was in good hands, I didn’t need to see anything else. Especially since I knew what type of pictures would eventually follow up next.
A post revealing them moving in together, a spectacular home with a picket fence in the background.
Another announcing their engagement, a large diamond ring on her slender finger.
A wedding picture, the designer white dress hugging her body, as heart-stoppingly beautiful as she is.
Maybe a sonogram or two, their clasped hands lovingly cradling her bump.
Yeah. My sanity couldn’t take seeing that shit.
Knowing that she found happiness was all I could muster.
I didn’t need that happiness to be shoved down my throat though.
A broken man can only handle so much.
‘Go home, Noah. Don’t pretend you don’t want to. You might not get another chance like this one again.’
Derrick’s words begin to poke holes in my resolve to spend the night on the Royal Shank. I had promised myself that I would make myself scarce while she was back in Thatcher’s Bay, not wanting to make this visit of hers any more difficult for her than it necessarily needs to be.
You mean you don’t want to make things harder for you.
She’s moved on. You’re the one still hung on what could have been.
I grit my teeth and curse out all the twinkling stars that decided to come out tonight just to celebrate her return. They mock my suffering just as much as her indifference always has.
Because her apathy is all I have now.
It’s the only plausible conclusion I can make from someone who, in the last seven years, felt no need to come home.
Not once.
Not for birthdays or holidays.
Not for lazy summer days or cold winter nights.
She made her life, not giving me a second thought. I was just a mistake she made when she was a teenager. Women of her caliber don’t waste time thinking of the past, too focused on enjoying their present and eagerly anticipating the bright future ahead.
I’m the fool who is stuck in the past.
Not her.
So why the fuck am I the one hiding here if she doesn’t give a fuck either way?
“What the fuck am I doing here?” I say out loud. “Fuck this.”
Not wanting to talk myself out of it, I grab my stuff and jump to the dock, racing all the way to my bike just so I don’t have time to second guess myself. Once I’m on the road, I floor it and ride like the wind, eager to get home. But as I drive up the driveway and see that my childhood home’s windows are pitch black, I realize that I waited too long.
Everyone is asleep.
Even her.
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, that familiar feeling of loss strangling my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
“Snap the fuck out of it, you pussy,” I curse, revolted that I’m back there.
Back to when loss was all I knew. All that I would ever know.
Thankfully, it only takes me a few seconds to get a handle on the myriad of emotions I’m being bombarded with, but then again, I’m not surprised I’m able to recover so quickly. I’ve had loads of practice in burying shit down deep. So deep that not even my masochistic subconscious can find it.
With a drooped slope to my shoulders, I slowly wander my way behind the garage and walk the flight of stairs leading up to my loft. But just as I insert my key into the lock and twist it open, heat begins to crawl up my spine with the scent of cherry blossoms hitting my senses. Before I even flick the light switch on, I already know what I’m about to find.
No.
Not what, but who.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to break into people’s homes…Sky?”
Her name rolls off the tip of my tongue, like a forbidden secret I was supposed to keep locked away in the dormant ridges of my heart. The sound of it flowing from my lips is so overpowering that it takes me a minute before I have the fortitude to turn around and face my uninvited guest.
But the minute I do, I know I’ve made a vital mistake.
Nothing and no one could have prepared me for this.
Prepared me for her.
They say time heals all wounds. That a heart, even if once broken, can be mended with time. Whoever they are have never faced this fucking gorgeous creature that is currently sitting on my bed before me now. If they did, they would see that no amount of time would ever be enough to diminish the hate imprinted in her steel glower.
In fuck-me heels that could pierce a dime-sized hole in any man’s chest, Sky crosses her long legs as she continues to eviscerate me with those stunning silver-plated eyes of hers. The sudden movement has my eyes drifting to her legs for a split second and onto the alluring sliver of skin of her outer thigh that her pencil skirt is unable to keep hidden. Though I’ve missed all the curves and valleys of her body, it’s her heart-shaped face that still haunts my dreams, hence why my stare eagerly returns to it. Her long chestnut hair is tightly bound into a sleek bun, purposely done to showcase her long slender neck, forcing my eyes to linger at its slope before landing on blood-red cupid’s bow lips. Her sharp high cheekbones and thin-slit gaze are determined to make her look menacing, but they fail their mission as that is not what I see when I look at her.
I see a woman who has transformed herself into becoming the epitome of elegant poise and sophistication, light years away from the girl who used to prance around our home in provocative shorts and oversized hoodies, unaware of the havoc she was wrecking on my heart.
That girl tempted the devil inside of me.
This woman has just managed to resurrect him.
“Noah,” she greets coldly, my name sounding like a curse falling from her luscious lips.
“Skylar,” I retort just as arcticly.
Though my loft isn’t large by any standards, there is still a huge distance between us, even if it feels minuscule to me right now. Especially since neither one of us wants to break this staring contest we’ve got going.
And why would I when I’m loving the view so much?
Skylar sitting on my bed is like a fantasy waiting to happen.
Fuck.
I can see it all so clearly.
Me walking over to her, hovering just so, until I hear that familiar catch of her breath, telling me she’s just as desperate for me as I am for her. I’d run my thumb over her painted lower lip, and release her hair from its constraints, freeing her long locks so they could flow down her back and shoulders. With her eyes locked on my every move, I’d kneel at her feet, spreading those long legs of hers apart just so I could smell her arousal. I’d lose myself in between her thighs, and after she belted out my name in that sweet mind-blowing way of hers, I’d tackle her to lie back on my bed and fuck her until I’d made sure that every memory of all those motherfuckers who ever dared to touch her in the same way, would simply vanish—as if they never existed—and all that was left, was me.
I stifle the groan that wants to come out with the tantalizing picture I planted in my own head and lean against the small kitchen counter that rests next to my front door, fully aware that the best thing I can do right now is keep this safe gap between us.
For both our sakes.
“Do you need something?” I ask when the craving to hear her voice again is louder than the silence presently presiding in the room.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she answers, keeping to her aloof tone. “As you well know, I’ll be living here for the next couple of months, and I thought it would be best to set some ground rules while I’m here.”
“Ground rules?” I arch a mischievous brow, crossing my arms against my chest.
“Yes,” she counters stiffly.
“Fair enough. I’m curious to hear what you have in mind,” I reply with a smirk, but it seems that my smug grin no longer has the same effect on her as it once did since she proceeds with her rant, completely undaunted by it.
“It’s no secret that there is no love lost between us and that neither one of us is happy I’m here, but alas, Daisy is getting married and therefore, my presence back in this godforsaken island couldn’t be avoided.”
“Alas? Throwing out those big words bought with that Dartmouth education of yours already, I see,” I can’t help but tease.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need me to dumb it down for you?” she asks, her tone overly sweet as she exaggeratedly bats her eyelashes at me. “My apologies. It’s been a while since I had to talk to someone whose idea of reading consisted of the daily comic strip that came in the newspaper.”
Fuck, she’s sexy when she’s cutting me down to size.
“As I was saying,” she begins, lowering her penetrating stare from mine, pretending to flick invisible lint off her skirt.
It’s in this fraction of a second, that I let my impervious mask slip off my face and reveal the chokehold this woman has me in.
She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
So fucking beautiful that it physically hurts to look at her.
When her stoic gaze returns to me, my mask swiftly locks back into place.
“Daisy’s wedding is a big deal, as it should be. And I have promised her that I will do everything in my power to guarantee this monumental event in her life will surpass all her hopes and dreams, giving her the wedding she so richly deserves.”
My smile only widens with each word that comes sprouting out of her mouth since it looks like I wasn’t the only one who was warned to be on their best behavior. Seems like Daisy had the same conversation with her sister, as Derrick had with me.
“That’s why I thought it would be prudent for us to come to an agreement where we can act civil with one another while in our family’s presence. As our brother, I’m sure you can agree that our animosity towards each other shouldn’t dampen our sister’s celebration.”
“Stepbrother,” I’m quick to correct, her lips immediately frowning at the rectification.
“I really couldn’t care less how you’d like to be referred to. All I care about is Daisy,” she explains sternly, pinning me with just one look.
When I don’t add anything to the conversation, she stands up and squares her shoulders, looking like she’s done with her warning.
“Don’t get in my way and everything will go smoothly. I hope I made myself clear.”
She then struts in my direction, towards the door beside me, thinking this discussion is over.
But it’s far from being over.
The instant she’s within arm’s reach, I pull her by the waist and slam her body against mine. And when I hear that unmistakable catch to her throat, my cock springs to life.
There you are.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, appalled, trying to break free from my grasp.
“You said what you needed to, so it’s only fair that I have a turn, don’t you think?”
Her nostrils flare in fury but she’s smart enough to stop wiggling around and keep still. Thank God for that small mercy, since my cock couldn’t handle any more of her rubbing up against it in her quest to break free from my hold.
I scan her face, my eyes going every which way at once, needing to take inventory of all her flawless imperfections. Of all the changes that I missed out on. And when she stares back at me, looking like she’s doing the same, I let her have her fill.
“You’re right,” I finally say after a pregnant pause, her big gray eyes widening incredulously. “This wedding is a big deal and Daisy deserves that nothing fucks it up.” I then lean into her ear, my cock hardening at how close we are.
“But if you think you can come into my home and make demands of any kind, think again. You don’t scare me, little stalker,” I whisper, smiling when I see the goosebumps rise at the nape of her neck. “In this house, I’m the big bad wolf. Don’t forget that.”
She places her palms on my chest to pull just an inch away, uncaring that we are now breathing in the same air.
“Don’t delude yourself. In what world could you ever scare me?”
I lick my lips and cock a wolfish grin.
“Ah, Sky. You shouldn’t have said that. You know how much I’ve always loved a challenge.” I then lower my head just enough for our lips to be a hair’s breadth away from each other. “Run, little stalker. Run on home before I change my mind and prove to you there is no challenge you can give me that I can’t win,” I whisper before releasing her from my grip.
Sky lets out a loud scoff as she eagerly steps back away from me.
“How disappointing. And here I thought you’d grown out of such silly games.” She tsks. “Guess I was right after all. You did peak in high school. Shame.”
Pleased with how my smile is now lying flat on the floor for her to walk all over, she reaches for the door to make her grand exit. But before she can get away, I grab hold of her elbow and pull her back against my chest for another word of warning.
“Don’t fucking come into my loft uninvited again. If you do, I guarantee you that you’ll spend the rest of your stay in Thatcher’s Bay on your back with my cock inside you.”
Her eyes widen in alarm as a flush of crimson rises from her heaving chest all the way up to her cheeks.
“Now who looks scared?” I provoke as I kick open the door for her. “Goodnight, Sky. This was fun.”
Nostrils flaring and seeing every shade of red there is, Sky storms out without another word. It’s only when I hear the front door of the house slam shut that all my bravado leaves me.
My fists clench to the sides as I walk over to my bed and sit in the precise spot she was in. My palms brush over the warm duvet as I breathe in the lingering remnants of her perfume, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.
I should be a fucking mess right now. I should be curled up in the fetal position, crying my goddamn heart out after such a shitshow of a reunion.
But I’m not.
And that comes down to one thing.
Sky is not indifferent to me as I convinced myself she was.
She fucking hates me, and hate is as far from a sentiment of indifference as there can be.
I can work with hate.
Because her hate has always tasted a lot like love to me.
Yeah.
I can definitely work with hate.
