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Wild Ever After: Chapter 6

YOU’RE EASY TO READ, BUT HARD TO FIGURE OUT - JADE

“There is no sitting down at a bachelorette party.” Scarlett pulls me to my feet. “We still have so many more things to cross off the list.”

“What list?” Ash asks.

The girl he was dancing with followed him back to our table. Everyone else has returned as well, except Jack.

Piper produces the scavenger hunt list and Ash and Maverick read through my remaining tasks: do a blow job shot, use the men’s bathroom, get carried into a bar.

“Bring on the shot,” I say. I am almost to that happy drunken state, where I won’t care that my fiancé called off the wedding I’m pretending to be celebrating. Almost. My optimism for getting him back is at an all-time low. I’m sure tomorrow I will wake up and find that spark of hope again, but right now, I’m just really sad and frustrated about it all.

Dakota gets me the shot from the bar, and I reach for it.

“Oh no,” she says. “A blow job shot can only be taken one way.”

“The list does not specify,” I say, knowing exactly what she means but not wanting to ask some random guy if I can take a shot from between his legs.

“You know very well that’s what it meant,” Scarlett insists. She scans the bar. “Want me to find the lucky guy?”

“Is it really necessary?” My question is lost in the excitement of my friends sizing up all the available men.

“What about Dec?” Tyler asks.

Everyone stops and stares at the man sitting across from me. I don’t know Declan that well, but something about him seems different tonight. He’s always quiet and stays out of the center of attention, but earlier, he almost looked angry. It was a good look on him, not going to lie, but I can’t help but wonder what had him all worked up like that. Does he date? I never thought to ask before, but now I really want to know.

He doesn’t say anything, and before I know it, I’m being ushered around to him as the shot glass is placed between his massive thighs.

An unexpected rush of heat hits my cheeks as I squat in front of him. He spreads his legs farther, and I rest my palms on his knees for balance. He’s warm and hard under my touch. I glance up at him. His eyes are a dark shade of brown with flecks of green I’ve never noticed before. A small scar above his lip and the short scruff coating his jawline interrupts his otherwise perfect features.

All eyes are on me as I inch closer. My hair falls into my face and one of his big hands comes forward to hold it back for me. Another rush of heat warms my face as our friends cackle. We’ve just turned this blow job shot scenario into an even more accurate roleplay.

“Sorry.” I think I hear him murmur.

I remove one of my hands from his leg and hold my own hair. That’d be more accurate for the BJ scenarios of my life anyway. Wrapping my lips around the small glass, I tip it back, once more making eye contact with Declan. The whipped cream makes it hard for the liquor to trickle out of the glass, but eventually, I swallow it all down.

I hold up the empty glass for everyone to see and wipe my mouth.

“Damn. This is what girls do at bachelorette parties?” Leo asks. He turns to Scarlett. “We’re definitely having a joint party.”

Declan takes my free hand and helps me to my feet.

“Thanks,” I say, meeting his gaze and still blushing. “You’re a good sport.”

“It’s anything but a hardship to have a gorgeous girl kneeling in front of me.”

I can’t think of what to say to that, but thankfully Declan tips his head and asks, “Can I buy you a real drink?”

“Yes, please.”

I follow him to the bar, and he pulls out the only remaining seat for me and orders us two tequilas.

“Tequila is a real drink?” I ask, as the bartender pours it into the shot glasses and adds a lemon to the side.

“It’s honest. No frills.” He thanks the bartender and pushes one of the glasses toward me.

I pick it up, trying not to smell the strong liquor. He removes the lemon from his and tosses it onto a napkin.

“To you,” he says, lifting the glass and nodding at me.

“To me,” I mutter. Now that’s a cheers I can get behind. The tequila burns. I slam the empty glass down, suck on my lemon, and then steal his. “I think I’m done for the night. Any more and I’m going to have to be carried out of here.”

“We can arrange that.” He smirks. He asks for a couple of waters and another round of shots, then leans a hip against the bar, staring at me in a way that makes me fidget. When the bartender brings the shots, he pushes one toward me and then takes his without waiting.

I watch as his throat works and then let myself scope out his broad chest and muscular arms. Declan is a sexy guy and easy to talk to; plus, he’s a famous hockey player. It brings me back to my earlier thoughts.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He fights a grin and shakes his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

The smile breaks free.

“You’re an attractive guy, with money, and mostly-tolerable friends.”

“Those the requirements these days?” Those green flecks in his eyes twinkle with amusement.

“It puts you head and shoulders above ninety-percent of the population, so yes. What gives?”

He doesn’t look like he’s going to give me anything, so I add, “It’s my last night out on the town as a single gal, give me some hot gossip.”

“I don’t really have time for dating right now,” he says, not quite meeting my gaze.

“No.”

“No?”

I glance over at our friends. “That might work on other girls, but I’ve seen it firsthand with Leo and Tyler. If you wanted to make time, you would.”

“I don’t know.” He shifts uncomfortably and then motions with his head to his teammates. “I’m not sure that is in the cards for me.”

“Something wrong with you?” I let my gaze drop to his crotch.

He laughs again. A deep, throaty sound I’ve never heard from him. It’s like taking another shot of alcohol, the way it warms my insides and makes me lightheaded.

“No. I’m good. I guess I just haven’t found that.”

“Something tells me you haven’t looked very hard.”

His phone buzzes, and he pulls it free from his pocket to look at the screen. When he does, his jaw flexes. He shoves it back in his pocket, then gives me his full attention. “Oh, yeah. Got me all figured out, do you?”

I nod. “I’m getting there. Another hour and I’d have the name of the first girl you had sex with, your social security number, and your blood type.”

He laughs again. It’s a great laugh and I love being responsible for it.

I meet his stare head on and lean forward. “You’re a good teammate and friend. You’re handsome, but don’t notice when girls try to get your attention. And the way you look right now—like you want to flee from this conversation—tells me you’re uncomfortable with praise. You’re either not used to getting it, which I would find hard to believe, or you have a hard time believing you’re worthy of it. Which I also would find hard to believe. Actually, I take back what I said. You’re easy to read, but hard to figure out.”

He shifts so his back is against the bar and he stares out at the rest of the space. He flicks his gaze to me and then back around to the people dancing and those sitting at tables. “I think you’re full of shit. I don’t see any girls trying to get my attention.”

Without looking, I say, “Far right corner in the red dress. She glances over every thirty seconds or so. I think she’s trying to decide if you’re my fiancé.”

I count slowly under my breath and true to my words, she looks over in about twenty seconds. I take the tequila shot in front of me as Declan’s stuck in a stare off with his admirer.

“I’ll be damned,” he mutters. I fully expect him to leave me. I’m not great company and he already got the only blow job he’s getting from me tonight. He turns and closes out with the bartender. I stand, ready to go back to my friends. I think they might have one more bar in them before they all want to rush back to the hotel and get freaky with their guys. Dakota and Maverick may not even last that long. I smile as I watch them dance. They’re so in love. So, so in love.

I open my mouth to thank Declan for the drink. He holds out a hand. “Wanna dance?”

My hesitation only lasts a second. I slip my palm into his, enjoying the rough feel against mine. He doesn’t let go until we’re in the middle of our friends. The guys are pumped to see him out there. They crowd around and joke about his moves, but he takes it all in stride. He’s actually not a bad dancer, and when he grins at me under the terrible bar lighting, I can’t help but smile back.

When the music turns to something slower, we decide to leave and go to the bar next door. Jack is still missing, but Ash says not to worry, so we go on without him.

“Wait, wait,” Scarlett says before I walk in behind her. “It’s your last chance to be carried into a bar.”

I glance around at the empty sidewalk. The only guy out here, a security guard, cuts me a look that says, don’t even ask, sweetheart.

But before I know it, Declan is back outside, sweeping my legs out from underneath me and cradling me to his chest. Gosh, he’s strong. He walks in and takes a couple extra steps before setting me on my feet.

“Thanks.” I pull at the hem of my dress and adjust my veil. “I’m sorry you keep getting roped into being my random guy.”

“I thought we already established I don’t mind in the least.”

We settle into a couple of pushed-together tables. I find myself next to Declan again. Scarlett makes us all squeeze in for photos. The reminder of work and that I’m going to have to write an article all about this night makes a knot form in my stomach. I excuse myself under the guise of getting drinks. I order a round of rum and Cokes and then pull out my phone.

I can’t take the silent treatment any longer. I call Sam for what has to be the hundredth time. I’m reaching stalker status and I don’t feel great about it.

“Hello?” Sam’s voice is nearly drowned out by the noise of the bar, but it slams into me as if he’d screamed.

“Oh my god, you answered.” I hold up a finger to the bartender to let him know I’ll be right back and hurry outside. “I have called you like a million times. Is reception crappy at the lake house?”

Before he can answer, I hit the FaceTime button. I want to see him. I need to see him.

When his face fills the screen, I breathe a little easier.

“Hi,” I say again.

“Hey, Jade.”

It’s when he says my name that I notice the background and then more closely scrutinize his put-together appearance. He’s clean-shaven and wearing his preppy clothes that he usually reserves for special nights out. There’s no trace of the guy that walked away from his fiancée earlier this week, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’s in a fishing cabin with his buddies.

I’m not sure what I expected; it isn’t like I’ve been wearing sweats and eating ice cream out of the tub, but it still hurts to see him look so unaffected.

“Where are you?”

“North Dakota.”

I fight back irritation. He left the freaking state without telling me? Has it really gotten to this point?

“North Dakota?! I thought you were fishing with your friends. I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I know. I needed some time.”

All things considered, I guess that’s fair, but this isn’t just about us. There are a lot of things to figure out in a short amount of time.

“The wedding is Saturday.”

“I know. That’s why I answered. I was going to call tomorrow after your bachelorette party, but I figured if you were calling, then maybe you hadn’t gone.”

“Of course, I went. Scarlett spent a lot of time putting it together.”

He nods but says nothing.

“What are we doing, Sam?”

“I thought about it a lot. I care about you, I do. And I know how much it means to you, but I can’t go through with this.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I think I knew this was the outcome the second he answered the phone, but his words still shred my insides.

“You said you loved me,” I whisper, voice hoarse. When he doesn’t reply, I add, “Please? I will lose everything.”

“Jade, it’s just a job.”

“Not to me.” My eyes pop open. He knows what my career means to me. It will give me the stability and independence that I have craved since I was little.

He runs a hand over his perfectly styled hair. “Can’t they issue some sort of statement and call it good? Engagements end all the time.”

“Is that what’s happening?” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Are we really breaking up?”

“Do you even want to be with me? Really?” he asks incredulously, brows raised.

“Of course, I do. I’ve spent months planning this wedding.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Jade. Forget the wedding, do you want to be with me?” He taps his chest. “We had fun in the beginning and then we moved in together, and…” His sentence trails off. “Let’s face it, neither of us saw it going this far.”

“That’s not true.” I cross one arm at my waist, as if I can protect myself from the blow he’s dealing.

He lets his hand fall. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not just in North Dakota visiting. I’ve decided to move back home.”

“To North Dakota?” In all the time we’ve dated, not once has he mentioned wanting to go back to his home state to live.

“Yeah. I applied for a job a few weeks ago and they flew me out for an interview yesterday.”

“Weeks ago?” Anger makes my voice shrill. “When were you going to tell me?”

He sighs. “It gives us a clean break. We can both figure out what it is we really want.”

“A clean break? Maybe for you. What am I supposed to tell people? My boss is expecting us to get married. Married!”

“I don’t know.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Tell them whatever you want. That’s what you’ve been doing all along, right?”

I’m fuming and stunned. Hot tears prick the back of my eyes. I will absolutely not let him see me cry. “That’s not fair. You agreed to this and now you’re making it out like you never wanted this.”

Like he never wanted me.

“I did. You’re right. But at least I stopped it before we made a huge mistake.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop the tears. It hurts worse than I’d like to admit, hearing him call our almost marriage a huge mistake.

He walks through what I assume is his parents’ house. Pictures in ornate frames hang on a wall behind him. “The apartment is paid for through the end of the month. You can have any of the furniture you want. I took everything I wanted with me.”

Great. I’ll be homeless, but at least I’ll have a used couch that reminds me of him every time I sit on it. How can he be so callous about all of this? Twelve months and it’s like it meant nothing.

When I still don’t speak, he adds, “I’m sure you’re going to write about this, but if you could leave my name out of it, I would appreciate it.”

I huff a laugh.

“You owe me that much,” he says.

I swipe at a tear the second it defies me and slides out the corner of my eye. Like I’d want anyone to know about this. It shows how little he really knows me.

“I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I mutter.

“Bye, Jade.”

When he ends the call, I finally let myself cry. It’s over. I can’t believe it.

What the hell am I going to do now?


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