I wasn’t so sure that was true, exactly, because I’d seen many of my cousins making the same mistake over and over again. But maybe that was just my opinion and not a fact. Still, when I told Mom about what happened the night before, she didn’t start screaming and hiding all the sharp objects in the house.
She pulled me into her arms and told me everything was going to be okay, and then she did the one thing everyone in our family did when they didn’t know how to fix something.
She called Aunt Emmie.
If Aunt Dallas had been home instead of in New York with Shaw, Mom probably would have called her first because she was the one we all turned to when there was a health emergency, even if it was a mental health issue. But there was no one like Aunt Emmie. If she couldn’t fix something, then it was most likely unfixable.
She arrived shortly after, and with Mom and Dad on either side of me, we decided what was the best course of action for getting me the help I needed. If I was honest, I’d scared myself pretty badly the night before. The only thing that had calmed me down and got me through until Mom woke up was talking to Luca. I didn’t want to think about why I’d called him and not gone straight to my parents when I’d started having those dark thoughts about just ending things. I didn’t want to analyze how much more important he continued to be to me than anyone else. At least, not yet.
One day, I promised myself. But that day wasn’t this one.
I told the three adults everything, leaving nothing out. Not even the drinking and the boys I’d been making out with to help numb the pain I was constantly in. When I got to how I’d thought about just ending things—not just cutting myself, but taking my own life—we were all left sobbing.
“You…” Mom stopped and took a ragged breath before forcing a smile for me. “You did the right thing telling us, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, honey,” Dad murmured, his face so pale I was a little worried he might pass out. “We can get you the help you need now.”
Which was how I ended up in therapy twice a week and support group meetings. It took a while, longer than even I expected, but by my birthday, I was beginning to feel a little more like my old self. Not seeing Luca’s name constantly popping up on my phone helped too, and slowly I started to learn more about myself.
The me without Luca was less confident at first, but I began to regain my faith in myself. It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t have to do it on my own. As Shaw once told me, it was okay not to be okay. I didn’t have to worry that everyone I cared about would fall apart if I wasn’t okay every minute of the day.
Of all the lessons I had to learn about myself, that one was possibly the hardest to figure out. It meant giving up control to a certain degree and trusting that those around me wouldn’t shatter if I needed a moment to just not be okay.
While I was getting mentally healthy, life went on around me. Summer came and went. And to avoid putting myself in a situation where I was unsure how I would handle seeing Luca face-to-face, I decided not to go to Aunt Emmie’s annual Christmas parties. Instead, my parents took my brother and me to New York to spend it with Grandpa Cecil, rather than his coming to California to visit with us.
High school quickly was about to become a thing of the past, and Luca was going into the NFL draft. I’d spent the last two years watching all of his games, but whenever he happened to do an interview afterward—like the one he had to do after Alabama won the National Championship for the second year in a row—I made myself change the channel.
He was predicted to go quickly in the draft, something none of us was surprised about. But no one realized exactly how quickly he would go. Tennessee wasted no time picking him up for the third overall pick and the first defensive pick of the year.
It wasn’t easy for me when I realized he was with one of the teams he’d always wanted to play for because he knew I loved Tennessee. Shaw’s parents owned a house just outside of Nashville. Uncle Wroth and Uncle Z both lived there with their families, and I had some pretty great memories of the place from my childhood.
Luca kept his promise and hadn’t called or texted me once in the past few years, but part of me hoped he would at least try on my eighteenth birthday. He didn’t, and I told myself I wasn’t disappointed. Sure, it would have been the day we could have finally been together without anyone saying Luca was breaking some stupid law, but with more than two years having passed since I’d last heard his voice, I should have known he’d moved on.
I went to Shaw’s Tennessee house with her and her parents and told Lyric not to tell his brother, part of me hoping he would let it slip and Luca would show up. He never did, and I wondered if Lyric had kept it quiet or if Luca just didn’t care that I was so close. I didn’t know, and I told myself I didn’t care.
So, when I saw him on ESPN with some girl I’d never seen before, it shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did. My heart shouldn’t have broken all over again, and I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed I texted Lyric that if he saw something he thought his brother wouldn’t like about me on the internet to be sure and send it to Luca.
I didn’t mean it, and I didn’t plan on going back down that self-destructive road I’d fought so hard to stay off of.
Even though I’d made the threat, I wasn’t going to let my aching heart get in my way. That didn’t stop me from getting on a plane and flying to London with Shaw for the weekend, though. It didn’t keep me from having a good time or reconnecting with a guy who had always been at the back of my mind.
It didn’t stop me from falling in love for the second time. And even if I’d known that the heartache I would have to face soon after would be worse than anything Luca had ever caused me, I still would have gotten on that plane and gladly fallen for the man who showed me what living life to its fullest was truly like.
Chapter 31
Violet
“I can’t believe I let my agent talk me into doing a campaign for a company I don’t know anything about,” Shaw grumbled as the stylist finished doing her hair and stepped back. Leaning forward in her chair, she fluffed her hair a little, then stood. “How do I look?”
I scanned her from head to toe, taking in the dress that looked like it cost at least twenty grand and the diamonds braided into her hair. With her makeup, she looked as if she was about to step onto the red carpet of the Oscars or into a ballroom full of royalty. Seeing as we were in London, the latter was more likely than the former, and I was all for seeing her flirting with a few princes for the weekend.
“I’d fuck you,” I told her with a grin, and she smirked at me.
“Did seeing Luca with that skank on TV finally turn you into a lesbian, babe? If so, you should have told me. I would gladly do a little experimenting with you.” She winked and I snorted.
“No, sorry.” I grimaced. “I almost wish it had, though.”
Shaw lost her smirk and hugged me, making the stylist huff unhappily. When the woman started to repair Shaw’s hair while she was still hugging me, my best friend turned on her with murder in her eyes. “Did it look like I was doing something?” She snarled at the woman. “Because I was fucking doing something. Do not mess with me when I’m hugging the only person in this world who matters to me.”
The stylist lifted her hands in surrender and quickly made a run for it.
“Shaw, don’t make any enemies on this shoot,” I pleaded with her. “Your mom is too busy with the end of Cannon’s summer tour to get called out for this. I promised I would take care of everything, and it would help if you could not make that job harder than it already is.”
She pressed her lips into a hard line. “No one interrupts me when I’m hugging my BFF.”
I wrapped my arms around her for a quick squeeze before stepping back and mock-glaring up at her. “Now, let’s get out there before the client gets pissed. And please, don’t get too snippy with the photographer. You’ve already been put on the ‘will not work with’ list of two photographers. Let’s not get
on a third, ’kay?”
“I’m not making any promises. And just to remind you, those two photographers were total dicks. I wouldn’t work with either of them again if they paid me five million dollars for a single picture.” She fixed a few locks of hair and then made sure her makeup was still perfect before turning back to me. “Lead on, beautiful.”
We left the stylist’s room and walked down a corridor that took us straight to the big, open room that was set up for the photo shoot. Normally Shaw knew who she was working for and exactly what product her face and name would be representing. This time, her agent had only sent over a brief synopsis of everything on the client and product.
It was for a new car that was being unveiled in the next few months. Everything was top secret surrounding it, and both Shaw and I’d had to sign nondisclosures promising not to speak a single word about what we saw or heard on the set during the shoot. I wasn’t familiar with the company who designed and manufactured the car, and when I looked them up online, I hadn’t found out much about WAR-SAW Global other than it was a billion-dollar company and the owner rarely was in the spotlight, letting their CEOs handle all the public relations aspects of the day-to-day.
Shaw was more into representing makeup and fashion in general. This was the first time she’d been offered a car campaign, but it was because it was so different from her norm that she’d given in when her agent told her about the job despite not knowing much about the client.
There was a black tarp over the car positioned in the center of the room. Lights were already set up to capture it from every angle, though, and I heard low voices coming from the other side of the room. As we entered, they hushed, and I felt all eyes turn to us.
I saw several shadows shift, and then the photographer came into the light, followed by his assistant, the stylist, and three other people in business attire.
“Wait,” Shaw murmured, stopping me when I met the clear blue gaze of the man in an expensive tailored suit with a grin on his all too handsome face. “Is that…?”
“Remington,” I squealed and launched myself into his arms.
Laughing, he swung me around twice. “You have no idea how hard it was not to let it slip that I was going to be seeing you today when we talked the last time.”
Over the years, Remington and I had kept up with regular calls and texts. He’d moved around several more times during that period, and a few months before, he’d called me when his grandfather passed away. Since it was just the two of them, he had to step into his grandfather’s shoes within their company, and our phone chats became fewer and fewer because he was so busy, but we still texted at least once a week.
“You are WAR-SAW Global?” Shaw asked with a lift of her brows as she waited for him to put me on my feet.
“That would be me. Warner-Sawyer used to be Warner, but my grandfather changed it when my mother married my father because he knew I would one day own it and didn’t want to chance me completely taking his name out of the company. Which was exactly what I would have done if given the chance.” He gave her a quick one-armed hug before stepping away and putting his hand at the small of my back.
It was so natural an action, and I found myself leaning into him, feeling like I was starving for the skin-on-skin contact when his finger grazed over my flesh as he lifted my T-shirt.
With his other hand, he indicated the car still under the tarp, as if he didn’t realize he was making my body react to his caressing fingertips. “Before Grandfather died, we were about to unveil this beauty. It’s our first time in the motor industry, but he was proud as hell of this project. With his death, things were delayed a little longer than expected, but once we finally got to the marketing stage, I knew exactly whose face I wanted to represent us.”
“You only wanted me because you knew you would get Violet in the bargain,” Shaw said with a grin, making me blush instantly.
I felt Remington’s fingers shift lower to my hip, and I had to fight back a moan when he gave a firm squeeze. When he looked down at me, his eyes were full of a hunger I’d only ever seen in them the night we almost kissed. “She sees right through everything, doesn’t she, Stevenson?”
“A-always,” I murmured, feeling breathless.
I felt his thumb caress over my back along the small patch of skin he’d exposed between my shirt and jeans. Goose bumps popped up along my spine, and I couldn’t help shivering. No one had touched me like that in a long, long time, and my body began to heat at the contact.
Clearing his throat, Remington focused back on the others around us. I realized the woman behind him was his personal assistant, because every time he gave an order, she instantly wrote something in the ledger she carried or typed something into her phone. The other guy was WAR-SAW Global’s marketing director, and he and Remington were both calling the shots for the photo shoot.
We stood off to the side, watching Shaw work her magic in front of the camera, while the photographer and his assistant rushed around, capturing every moment from every angle. It took hours because they were trying to reach multiple demographics. Shaw went from the elegant evening gown, to casual jeans and T-shirt with her hair in a ponytail, to a bikini and barefoot and sitting on the hood of the car for the last hour of the shoot.
During that time, Remington stayed beside me, splitting his focus between the work at hand and me. I enjoyed having his attention, laughing with him, flirting. But I liked just watching him too. Seeing his brain work as he called out suggestions throughout the entire afternoon and observing the results come to life on the computer where the pictures the photographer was taking instantly popped up for us to view.
As the last picture appeared on the screen, Shaw let out a pained groan. “Surrender,” she cried. “Surely you have enough to work with. If not, let me eat, and then we can start back up. But this girl is starving.”
Remington laughed. “We’re good. I’ve already decided on which pictures we’re using first. Go change, and I’ll take you and Stevenson to dinner.”
I glanced down at my plain jeans and T-shirt. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel so I can change if we’re going somewhere nice.”
I felt his eyes skim over me like a physical caress. “You look beautiful. Like always.” He caught my hand in his and lifted it to his lips. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a kiss to my fingertips before releasing me. “But if you want to change, that’s your choice.”
I found myself leaning into him, and he lowered his head. “Remi…” I didn’t know if I was trying to stop him or begging him to devour my mouth. All I could do was look up at him and hope he didn’t make me decide which one I really wanted from him just yet.
“I like it when you call me that.” His breath brushed over my lips, but he only kissed my cheek before pulling back. “Go help Shaw change before I kiss you right here in front of all these assholes.”
Heart racing, I practically ran after my best friend. When I got to the room where she was already changing into the clothes she’d arrived in, I had to wave a hand in front of my face to try to cool it down.
Holy hell. I’d only felt this way about Luca, except that one night at Remington’s when Jagger had interrupted.
Shaw laughed softly when she saw me. “That guy has always been half in love with you. I’m starting to wonder if maybe he was full-blown head over heels for you all this time and just waiting for you to come back into his life.”
I gasped. “No way. He couldn’t possibly…”
“I said the same thing about Lyric finding the love of his life at a club in New York and then following her across the country to make her fall in love with him.” She lifted her phone and waved it at me. “And yet here he is, sending out texts saying he’s getting married.”
“What?” I exclaimed and pulled out my own phone from my back jeans pocket. I’d had it on silent for the shoot, and I’d been having so much fun just being with Remington all afternoon that I hadn’t pulled
it out once to check for messages or missed calls.
Sure enough, I had a text from Lyric. There was a picture of him and the girl he’d told me all about when I’d visited him over the summer. She was beautiful, with jet-black hair and gray eyes. But it was the way she was looking at Lyric that made me smile. He’d been so worried that he was the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but I could see just from this picture how much she loved him.
Lyric: She said yes! And the parents and Aunt Emmie are already here to start the wedding plans. Please. You have to come. I know you don’t want to see Luca, but I need you both there. And Mila wants to meet you.
I sighed and texted him back.
Me: I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Just keep your brother away from me, and I promise I’ll be there.
Almost instantly, I got a reply.
Lyric: You got it. I’ll let you know when and where. Hugs.
“Something tells me this wedding isn’t going to take long to plan,” Shaw said as she pulled on her jeans and buttoned them. “Are you going to be okay with seeing Luca?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “It’s time.”
“It’s time?” she repeated, her brow furrowed. “Time for what?”
I thought about how I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted Remington to kiss me, and I smiled. “Time to really move on.”
Chapter 32
Violet
After a quick stop at our hotel where Shaw and I both changed out of our jeans into something dressier, Remington took us to dinner. I’d been to London enough times to know where the best places to eat were, and one of the posher restaurants was owned by a friend of my family.
When Remington asked where we wanted to eat, Shaw and I were in agreement about where to go. Walking in, we were greeted by a hostess who gave us a smile in welcome, remembering the last time we’d eaten there with our moms. But it was Remington she tripped over herself to please when he told her we didn’t have a reservation but we’d like a table for three.
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