“Nica, please.” I felt so ashamed. I covered my face with my hands again. “I can explain everything, but not now.” I looked up to her. “Let me deal with my parents and Danny first. Then I promise you, everything will make sense.”
Nica retracted her hand and crossed her arms over her chest. She pouted. A line creased between her brows. “Fine. But after this, everything on the table.”
“Yes, I promise.” I stood and spread out my arms, hoping she wasn’t too mad to give me a hug. I could really use one. Thankfully, she hugged me, and patted my back too.
“Is your name really Chastity?” she asked against my chest.
“’Fraid so. Chastity Hannah Buford.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know.” We let go of each other and headed out the door.
Even though she waddled more than walked, Nica was still fast-paced. I let her get ahead of me, staring straight ahead into to the conference room. In there, my mother was too busy chatting the ears off of Becky, while my reserved father lifted a glass of water to his mouth. Danny had his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching everything going on outside of the room. I paused mid-step as our eyes locked.
An overwhelming panic churned in my gut.
Danny saw the fear in my eyes, and shook his head as he mouthed, ‘No’. But it was too late. With my cold hands on my sides, I backed away and ran toward the exit, once again leaving him behind with unanswered questions.
Where else would I go? In a city like San Francisco, it was easy to get lost. But I’d become a creature of habit.
I hadn’t seen my parents for a decade, and I never practiced how I’d deal with them once I faced them again. So, I ran. That was what I did.
I would’ve kicked myself if my legs weren’t clenched tight around my bike, speeding away from the source of my duress. I made it to the Marina, to the Wave Organ. I parked my bike and sat looking out to the magnificent water, listening to the waves lapping at the shore, crashing through the pipes and producing ethereal sounds I hoped would clear my mind.
Danny and that kiss, his kiss. His effect on me. The swirling, overwhelming emotions in my stomach. The fluttering of my restless heart. How was it that even though I hadn’t felt his lips on mine for a decade, I was still familiar with his taste? That the simplest touch from him would wreak havoc on my senses?
I guessed it was true when people say you’d never forget your first. Danny was my first everything. Was this emotion swimming my gut only a surge of nostalgia?
I couldn’t say how long I’d been sitting here, contemplating, but once the place was filled with families, and screaming tots climbing the stones, I headed out and ended up in my next favorite safe place, Davidson’s.
My phone wouldn’t stop the intermittent vibrations, so I turned it off. Not now, Nica.
Benoit the bartender saw me right away, and since he had a sixth sense for when one of his patrons was in dire distress, he slammed a highball in front of me, poured two fingers of scotch in it, and left me alone with the bottle. Ladies and gentlemen, this was how sorrows were drowned. Literally. No matter how many times I’d ended up at this place, the only person I’d ever talked to was Benoit. Sure, men ogled me and propositioned me, but I was protected under the guise that Benoit and I were dear friends. Truthfully, though, all I knew was he was happily married, with three munchkins.
He didn’t bother me that evening, but I could feel him watching over me, even from the other side of the bar. More than halfway through the bottle, and when my eyes started to cross, I stood (or fell off the stool, then stood) and saluted him before heading out. I had a running tab at Davidson’s but he would never charge me for anything. Not when the bar’s silent partner was my best bitch’s husband, Levi.
I propped my helmet over my head. Safety first, right? And hugged my beautiful bike between my legs. Before I could start her up, Benoit appeared, looking like he was gearing for a fight.
“I called you a cab. You’re not driving anywhere.” He stood, feet hip-width apart, arms crossed over his massive chest, angry shitface on his well...face.
“I’m fine.” I jabbed a key into my ignition. It wouldn’t fit in.
Benoit snatched the keys out of my hand and unhooked the one for my Harley out of the ring. Two were left: my house key and a storage key. “Cab will be here any second.”
“I can’t leaf...leave her here!” I slurred.
“I’ll bring her in later. She’ll be safe inside the bar. You can collect her tomorrow.” Benoit cocked his head up. “Cab’s here. You need help getting there?” He stretched an arm out to guide me and I slapped it away.
Before I could shut the cab door, I glanced over at Benoit, waiting for me to zoom away, to gain distance from him as fast as possible. I rolled the window down, and yelled out a warning, “She falls apart under your care and I’ll make sure you won’t get baby number four!” He laughed, loud enough for it to register through my scotched-soaked brain, and then he received a high-flying, one-finger salute from me. I leaned back in my seat and dreaded facing the night.
“Address?” the driver looked over his shoulder, waiting for me to answer.
Where would I go? My apartment wouldn’t be my first choice. Not where Nica, or someone from my past would come around. No. I scrubbed my hands over my face and patted my pockets, thinking I would find a solution. Surprisingly, I did.
I gave the hotel address to the driver. It didn’t take long to arrive at my destination. It was rather unfortunate since my heart hadn’t stopped pounding through my rib cage, and I could have used extra time to corral it back in.
This could be a major mistake. How would Alex react? Was he still staying at this hotel? I slipped in the key card, and was only too relieved when the light turned green.
A lamp was on in one corner of the room. Some of Alex’s clothes were piled neatly on the bed. There was no sign of him. Where could he have gone?
I made my way to the bathroom, and flicked the lights on. The sudden brightness burned my eyes. I caught my reflection in the mirror, and gripped the edge of the marble vanity. A lump caught in my throat. Extending my hand to the glass, I traced the outline of the woman facing me. Who I was and who I’d become were two complete opposites. Tears stung my eyes. I turned away before the first fat tear rolled down my cheek.
My gut reaction was to wash it away. The square, tiled shower called to me. I reached forward and let the water blast. My hands shook, my lips quivered, and my heart squeezed. All I had energy for was to strip my jacket, boots and pants off. All else was fair game. I walked into the rush of hot water, pressed my hands flat on the cold tiles, and let the fountain works start, trying to remember when was the last time I’d cried.
I collapsed down to the shower floor, letting the high-temperature water drown my sorrows. I heaved. I choked on my sobs. I let the memories filter in. The distant, long-ignored thoughts of my past.
And that was how Alex found me.
When I met Alex, I never expected him to be anything other than a wrench in my gut. But he surprised me in so many ways. He showed me tenderness, warmth, and, dare I say, affection.
In this dark hour, I ran to him. Weakened and confused by the state of my life and mind, I sought out the person I didn’t think was capable of caring for me. Maybe, just maybe, right alongside the long-forgotten emotions, the thought of being in his arms burrowed deep. I knew I’d be safe with him, cuddled close to his heart. And he let me.
Whatever our relationship was—in the moment of my need—he became my solid foundation. And it hurt to know there was a possibility this time tomorrow…he would hate me.
His voice didn’t register until after he scooped me out of the stall. Alex called out to me, “Hayati.” Only he knew what it meant. He repeated the word like it was my cradle, a cocoon, which would protect me. “Were you trying to drown yourself? You’re more likely to get a second-degree burn.” From his low, gruff tone, I could tell he was put off by my actions, but his voic
e softened when he added, “Talk to me.”
I looked at him, my eyes level with his, as he sat me atop the vanity. He held my gaze even as he covered my head with a bath towel and squeezed the water from my hair, quietly, until it was nearly dry. My mascara wasn’t waterproof, and I knew I had raccoon eyes, but he regarded me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. The thought stabbed another hole into my heart. Alex was punishing me, and he wasn’t even aware of it. How much more of it could I take?
When he was done with my hair, tucking thick strands behind my eyes, he quietly ordered me to lift my arms so he could remove my shirt, which stuck to my reddened skin. Then he unclasped my bra, and skimmed his fingers over my shoulders, under the straps to remove it. There was nothing lascivious about his actions. He glanced away only to reach for a robe to cover me with, but as soon as he turned to me again, he searched my eyes, questioning me silently.
With the pads of his thumbs, he etched lines under my lids. The deep grooves on his forehead expressed his worry and concerns, that he was trying to understand how to deal with me, what to do next. Alex reached for a small towel, wet it, and proceeded to dab under my eyes.
He raked his bottom lip between his teeth before he spoke. “I wish you wouldn’t drink so much.”
Not exactly what I thought he’d say, yet fitting all the same.
“We all have our vices.” I bit my tongue before I could say he was my vice. I parried with, “I wish you’d stop smoking.”
He quit rubbing my makeup off. The towel in his hand had splotches of gray and black on it.
“I did.”
“You did what?”
“Stopped smoking.” My mouth dropped. Alex loved smoking as much as he loved sex, as far as I was aware.
“When did you do that?” I asked once I found my voice.
He shrugged, and I thought the noncommittal action was all the answer I would get, but he replied, “Six weeks ago.”
“You were here six weeks ago.” With me.
Alex nodded. There was a flicker in his irises. “Yes. That’s when you said I didn’t need a cigarette to look badass sexy.” His features smoothed into an expression of pure bliss, which added more sparkle in his eyes.
I had said that, but I didn’t think he would listen. My gut twisted tighter as I wondered what it meant, if it meant anything at all. Why had he quit when I had asked him? I couldn’t formulate the proper words.
He drew invisible lines along the sides of my face. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was committing me to memory. Had someone told him? Had Nica found out he was in the city and had informed him of the situation? No, it was impossible. Nica would be the first one to tell people to mind their own business. Whether she had a clue about what was happening between Alex and me or not, she would keep my secret safe. Although Nica would also try to convince me to explain everything to Alex.
I’m as stubborn as I am cowardly.
There was no possible way I could open up to Alex now. If his own painful past had taught me anything was that he did not tolerate betrayal. There was still the niggling question whether Daniel’s appearance was a form of betrayal to Alex.
Alex sighed heavily, bringing my focus back to him and away from the problem which I intended to handle...tomorrow. He rubbed the bottom of my chin. “Have you eaten anything tonight?”
I looked down at my wrinkled fingers. “I had pretzels at the bar,” I lied.
“You have to eat something more substantial than that, Chase.”
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry. To tell you the truth, I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.”
Alex straightened. Those last words seemed to surprise him. “You’re staying with me tonight?”
My eyes drifted back to meet his. I wished so hard I could match the joy I saw in them. “Yes,” I answered, because it could most likely be the last time I’d have with him. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Of course,” he said with a smile, flashing his bright white teeth at me. Then he zipped open a small black bag and produced a disposable toothbrush.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You always carry a spare toothbrush?”
“Yes. Chase, I smoked for years, drink coffee, tea, and wine. These bad boys don’t clean themselves you know.” He pointed at the row of teeth between his stretched lips. He handed me toothpaste and left me to my own devices.
When he came back, he removed my robe and had me wear one of his shirts. It was made of soft cotton and smelled of him. It nearly killed me.
To keep myself from going insane, I probed him, “If you weren’t out for a smoke, where were you?”
“Went out for a run.” Only when he said it did I notice his running gear. Before I could ask him about it, he continued, “I had to replace smoking with something else. I figured running’s as good as anything.” I simply nodded, trying to evade the vision of Alex and his already toned runner’s body.
A minute later, I didn’t have to imagine. I watched him change into his sleeping clothes and brush his teeth. How easy it would be to do this routine with him every single day? I bit back anger at my own thoughts. Not now. Not ever. That would be his decision.
Alex held my hand and led me to the bed. Before I could get between the inviting sheets, I removed my underwear, damp from both the shower and the man before me. Alex was sexy. Alex was a forbidden fruit, which any woman could not get enough of, and would eternally lust after.
He let me slip into the bed first, before turning onto his side. He was the big spoon, and I felt safe wrapped in his warm embrace. Our limbs tangled together, making it seem like I was glued to him. I shimmied my buttocks against his front, and felt him grow and harden. But I didn’t want sex tonight. I just wanted to be held. I wanted a moment, one that could last a lifetime. One of his hands reached up and brushed through my hair. Every third of fourth time, he would press his lips on the delicate skin behind my ear.
Every single moment of the night, every movement he made caused tension inside my chest. My heart galloped within the boundaries of my ribcage.
For years, I had taught myself not to feel. Tonight, everything was fair game. I cried. I laughed. I feared. And if I wasn’t careful, I would let myself fall.
I traced the thick, curved tattoo on his arm. “What does this mean, Alex?”
His breath tickled my ear, and goose bumps burst all over my body as he spoke. “It’s Tibetan script for ‘Everything happens for a reason’.”
Actually, shit happens for a reason. It had led me to live a secret life. It had caused me an enormous amount of pain and sorrow. And it seemed it wasn’t over yet.
I was a glutton for punishment, so I pulled Alex closer and let my eyes drift closed.
I woke him up by running my fingers through his hair. I’d slipped back into my pants and bra, and stuffed my underwear into my pocket. I kept his shirt on under my leather jacket.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” Alex tuned on his back, propping his head up higher against the headboard. “Leaving already?”
“Yes. It’s going to be a long day.” It wasn’t a lie. I’d been up since the crack of dawn. My mind was filled with the choices I would have to make, and the people I’d have to face.
Alex stretched his arms and winced. He reached for a small container on the nightstand and applied a little amount of strongly-scented ointment on his wrists.
I wriggled my nose as I sat on the edge of the bed. “Is that liniment? You smell like an old man.”
“A sexy old man?” He waggled his brows. How could I not laugh?
Moments like this with Alex would be the most painful to remember. Not just the unbelievable sex, and the unexplainable connection we had. He made me smile. He made me laugh. He made me feel good about myself. I would take these memories, dig deep into my heart, and bury them there for all eternity.
I leaned forward and kissed him. With passion. With sorrow. With affection. With everything I had.
“I can’t
convince you to have breakfast with me?” Alex asked, pushing my hair off my face.
With my lips pressed into a flat line, I shook my head and ran my hand over his cheek. He tilted his head, closed his eyes, inhaled and kissed my palm.
“Bye, Alex.”
When he opened his eyes, I met with the impossible. It was beyond lust, beyond physical desire. It was something he had been convincing me we had since we met. A flash lit inside my head. How many times could I let myself lose the people I loved?
“I’ll see you later, hayati,” Alex promised as I stood and headed to the door. It took all my strength to walk away.
After claiming my motorcycle from Benoit, I drove to my apartment. When I parked my baby inside the carport, I could sense someone watching me. I faced the street, with my helmet in my hand and my heart in my throat. Shading my eyes from the rays of the early sun, I saw the person who had been watching me.
When he stepped out of his car, I couldn’t help but run to him, and cry on his chest.
Walter Buford was a man of few words. What he didn’t say, he conveyed in many different, albeit subtle ways.
At that moment, all he did was pat my hair and let me weep, soaking his wrinkled shirt. Belatedly, I wondered how long he’s been waiting for me. My father was my strength. He was the only person who had seen me fall apart...until last night with Alex.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I snorted and sobbed. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but without a doubt, he would tell me I was beautiful no matter what.
His large hands cradled my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. His face was hard, lined with unspoken sorrow, grief and pain. Daddy wasn’t just built like a linebacker, he used to be one, but around his chin were signs of weight loss. Maybe it was from sadness, or age, or both.
“Why don’t we talk inside, Nugget? I could use some coffee.” Daddy smiled, a simple, enigmatic, ear-to-ear sort. Then he handed me a folded-up tissue.
Chasing the Runaway Bride (Bliss Series Book 3) Page 7
