by Anders Grey
The thought made my heart clench. I was still referring to him as my fake boyfriend—but what the hell were we, really? We’d danced around the topic yesterday, and now I was too nervous to ask for the cold, hard facts laid out on the table.
Despite our convoluted personal lives, we were still real boyfriends in front of my family, and I was grateful to hold his hand and slink my arm around his waist. I needed to get in my fill before Alec left.
What if he changes his mind when he comes back? Fuck, I don’t even know when that is, I thought, desperation gnawing at my brain. What if he has some kind of spiritual awakening on his trip and decides he doesn’t want me anymore?
I started out of my thoughts as Alec’s hand wrapped around my waist and squeezed. “Hey. You okay?”
His touch never failed to make me blush. “Yeah. Just thinking about stuff.”
“Care to share?” he asked with an easygoing smile.
I thought about blurting out hey, what if you didn’t leave and you stayed here with me and also, we were really, truly dating, would that be awesome or what? And then I thought better of it.
“It’s nothing,” I lied with another smile. Pivot the subject. “Hey, did you bring your camera?”
Alec nodded, gently patting the bag at his side. “Always do.”
I pointed towards the beautifully groomed aisles of flowers. “Still feel like taking those macro shots?”
“Well, with this new assignment, I guess I don’t really need to,” Alec murmured. “But what the hell? At least they’ll make for good memories.” He looked at me, his eyes soft with bittersweet emotion. “My last day with Rowan.”
My stomach lurched. I felt sick.
Please don’t say that without qualifying ‘for now.’
But Alec didn’t make any addendums to his comment. He strolled over to the flowers and began snapping away. I wanted to kick myself. Why did I interrupt our mutual waist-holding so he could take some fucking photos?
God, I’m an idiot.
I stood there like a dumbass, stewing in my own self-hatred, when I noticed my family’s chipper voices getting louder. They stood around in a loose circle with Tiffany and Mark on center stage beneath a fancy white gazebo. Maybe it was petty, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch the rehearsal festivities—especially when I knew it was all a big, fat lie.
I turned my bitter gaze over my shoulder, searching the topiaries and colorful rows of flowers for anyone who might be lurking there. If Kyle truly was here, then he really was the scum of the earth. Not that I didn’t know that already, but knowingly dating Mark when the guy was engaged to be married tomorrow was sickening. As far as I was concerned, both Mark and Kyle were worth less than the chihuahua crap that came out of Noodle’s ass.
Irritated now, I glanced at my phone again. Nothing. I glared at Mark, who was posing cheek-to-cheek with Tiffany as my delighted relatives took pictures with their smartphones. Perhaps I was getting my hopes up too quickly. I shoved the phone back down with a sigh.
Part of me wondered why I was even here. The rehearsal wasn’t that important, and Tiffany didn’t have any specific roles for me and Alec, especially since she made it clear she didn’t want us at the actual wedding. As far as I knew, she was still pissed off and ignoring us after our argument in her hotel room.
“Hey, Rowan,” Alec called. “Come here for a sec.”
I found Alec by a large shrub with glossy, dark green leaves and sweet-smelling white flowers. A gardenia.
“Pose for me?” Alec asked.
“Pose? I’m not a model.”
His lip quirked. “You sure seemed like one in the butterfly conservatory.”
I blushed. “That was a candid shot. I wasn’t posing on purpose or anything.”
Alec pouted. “Come on, please?”
I raised a brow. “Wait, these aren’t for your magazine, are they? ‘Cause I don’t want random people to see an awkward picture of me standing in front of a bush.”
With a sigh, Alec said, “No, they’re not. Don’t worry.” He winked. “I just want some for my eyes only.”
My brows raised at the borderline suggestive comment. Alec didn’t say anything else, waiting for me to take up position by the gardenias.
I shuffled in front of them, suddenly feeling awkward under the scrutinizing eye of Alec’s camera. Nobody was paying attention to us—we might as well have been the only two people here. Something about that made it seem that much more intimate.
“You do look a little stiff,” Alec admitted. “Try to loosen up a little.”
I frowned. “I told you, I’m not a model. I don’t know how to look good on camera.”
Alec smiled gently. “You always look good. Don’t try so hard.”
My skin prickled. I didn’t know why Alec was so insistent on taking these photos of me, but I reminded myself no one else would see them except him. My throat went tight and dry. If he wanted personal photos of me, that was a good thing, right?
“Try talking to me about something,” Alec suggested. “That usually helps calm people down.”
My brain didn’t feel like working when I was put on the spot like this. As I glanced around, I became aware of the sweet gardenia scent wafting all around me, their delicate aroma like a comforting blanket.
“Do you know what these are?” I asked.
Alec adjusted the camera lens. “The flowers? Of course. They’re gardenias.”
“Okay, that was easy mode. Scientific name?”
“Uh. Flowerus whitus.”
I laughed. “You didn’t even try, you ass.”
His lip curled in amusement. “Enlighten me, then.”
“Gardenia jasminoides. Weirdly enough, they’re actually part of the coffee family.” I paused. “Do you know their meaning in the language of flowers?”
“Ah, I don’t,” Alec said patiently. “Tell me.”
I opened my mouth, then hesitated. “They… You give them to a person who you think is lovely.”
“They are a nice flower. I’m glad to hear they have a pleasant meaning and not one of those weird ones, like if the flower’s one color it means I love you but if it’s another, it means I wish you would burn in hell.”
I snorted. “Gardenias have another meaning too. But it’s not bad.”
Alec nodded at me, an invitation to continue as he continued snapping away. Had he been taking photos this entire time? I hadn’t even noticed. I guess he was right about talking being a good distraction.
I shuffled my feet. “The other meaning is less platonic. It’s a symbol of secret love.”
Alec lifted his head curiously. “Really?”
I nodded. “I guess people don’t care much about the language of flowers anymore, but in Victorian times, you could give a gardenia flower to someone you secretly had a crush on or something.” The more I spoke, the more my cheeks suddenly flushed. I felt like I was talking way too much.
Alec didn’t seem to notice. “Interesting.”
“Yeah.” I let out a weak chuckle. “Anyway, that’s just stuff I know from my job. Since I have to arrange bouquets and all that. Helps to know flower meanings.”
God, I’m rambling again. Shut up, Rowan.
“So, you’re saying it’s like a secret code,” Alec began. “If I gave a gardenia flower to someone, it would be up to them to decide which meaning it had? Platonic or romantic?”
“I guess, yeah.” I swallowed, then quickly added, “Nobody really cares about the meanings anymore, though. Flowers are just pretty and smell good.”
With a content grunt, Alec leaned back on the balls of his feet and examined his camera screen. He seemed pleased with his work. I let out a breath of relief and let my shoulders sag, glad that the pressure was finally off.
“Thanks, Rowan,” Alec said. “These are fantastic shots.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone approach us. My sto
mach twisted into a knot when I saw it was Tiffany.
Some of my tension uncoiled as she gave me a half-hearted smile—not quite all the way there, but enough for me to put my guard down.
“Hey, Rowan,” she said. She nodded to Alec and greeted him too.
“Hi,” I said. An awkward silence ensued. I struggled to find something, anything to say that didn’t sound stupid. “So, having fun?”
Ugh. Failed step one.
“Yeah, the rehearsal’s going really well,” she said. Her smile crept into the realm of slightly more genuine. “I noticed you guys off in the corner and just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I didn’t really see much of you at dinner last night, either.”
I forced myself not to wince. I hadn’t realized she noticed that. I figured she was too busy with Mark and the dinner conversation to care that Alec and I were absent for a chunk of time.
“Ah, sorry. I got a call from my boss. Work related issue,” Alec offered. Not a total lie, at least. “Rowan was helping me deal with it.”
Tiffany nodded, accepting this explanation. She didn’t seem to know that Mark’s absence was mixed up with ours. Of course, Mark had slunk back to the table and acted like everything was fine, so I couldn’t blame Tiffany for not putting the pieces together.
She sighed heavily. “I’ll just say it. I’m sorry about the other day, Rowan. I shouldn’t have thrown anything at you. I just freaked out and my temper got the best of me.” Her watery eyes met mine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m really sorry.”
I rubbed my arm, feeling embarrassed. “It’s okay. Thanks.”
“No, it’s not.” She huffed. “Row, you’re my favorite relative. This week was supposed to be fun for both of us. I didn’t want to spend half of it fighting with you.”
My heart stung. “Me neither.”
Tiffany held open her arms with a cautiously optimistic expression. “Truce?”
I considered her invitation to patch things up. I wanted to take it. But I knew this was just a bandage fix. It wouldn’t solve anything.
As much as it would hurt to dig the hole deeper, I knew I had to do it.
“Tiff, there’s something you should see.”
Tiffany frowned, slowly lowering her arms. “What?”
I got out my phone. I felt a flash of disappointment that I didn’t have any new messages, then flicked the screen open and rummaged through my gallery until I found what I was looking for—Damian’s video.
Tiffany and Alec huddled close, both of them sporting confused frowns.
“Rowan, what is this?” Tiffany asked.
Alec stared at the screen, no doubt realizing it was taken the other night. After we got derailed last night, I didn’t have a chance to tell him about it.
I watched Tiffany’s reaction. She went from confused to intently curious to confused again. Her brow furrowed in concentration as the scene played out. After Damian sent me the video, I re-watched it about a hundred times, memorizing every second. I knew it wasn’t much to look at in the beginning, but I knew what was coming up—the big hit. I cranked the volume up until you could hear all our agitated voices.
“I—I don’t understand,” Tiffany mumbled. “What am I watching? Is this you and Alec?” She squinted. “That… looks like Mark. It’s not him, is it?”
“It is,” I confirmed. “Remember when he left the table? He was in the restroom with us when this happened.”
“When what—oh my god!”
Even though I’d seen the video enough to memorize it, seeing real life events I’d experienced from another angle still felt surreal. Kyle punched Alec in the nose. Alec stumbled back, me tending to him. Mark yelling at Kyle.
Tiffany gasped. “What the hell? Is that Kyle?” Her gaze snapped to me. “Your ex Kyle?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he hit Alec?” she sputtered.
“Because he didn’t like the way the conversation was going,” I said grimly.
Alec had been quiet this whole time, like he was afraid to say anything. His eyes kept flitting between me, Tiffany, and the phone.
With a deep frown, Tiffany took the phone from me and rewound the video. She watched it again with a scrutinizing expression.
“This isn’t doctored, is it?” she asked.
I didn’t know if she actually believed that or if she was just giving it a last-ditch effort before accepting the truth. “No.”
A shadow crossed Tiffany’s face. She turned to me with tight lips, her jaw full of tension.
“I still don’t believe what you guys told me before about Mark,” she said quietly. “But if this really is him…” She sighed. “I don’t like the way he just stood there and watched. It almost seems like he’s on Kyle’s side.”
A tiny flicker of hope bloomed inside me. I cupped it, keeping it under control. One step at a time.
Tiffany bit her lip as she looked at Alec. “I know we argued and disagreed, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt. Why did Mark stand back and let Kyle hit you?”
Alec and I exchanged glances, neither of us wanting to say it.
Because he’s a scummy douchebag.
Tiffany groaned in exasperation, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. I felt terrible for her. If I was in her situation, I’d be stressed out of my mind, too. This couldn’t have been easy.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing how else to comfort her.
With a frustrated sigh, Tiffany ran a hand through her hair. A few strands fell over her forehead and she didn’t bother to put them back. I reached over and tucked them away for her. Tiffany smiled, tired and weak.
“Thanks,” she said. Her smile fell. “Can I just… have some time alone to think?”
I patted her gently on the back. “Of course. By the way, are we still un-invited to the wedding?”
She huffed out a breath. “Of course not. You’re both free to come. In fact, I better see you there.”
Tiffany returned to the gazebo and hugged Mark, who was smiling expectantly. He didn’t even bother looking at me. That pissed me off because I knew he thought he’d won. Arrogant prick.
As Tiffany and Mark walked off holding hands, the tiny flame of hope kindling in my chest died down into ash. Maybe she didn’t want to make a scene in front of everyone by bringing up the video, but she was acting like nothing had changed.
If we couldn’t change Tiffany’s mind about Mark by now, I was rapidly losing hope that we could before tomorrow.
I didn’t know what I hated more—knowing that I was going to watch my beloved cousin marry a filthy cheater, or that Alec was going to leave me to deal with the aftermath all by myself.
And the worst part about it was that I couldn’t stop either of them from happening.
30
Alec
After the rehearsal, we had nothing better to do than head back to the hotel and mope. A vague dismal cloud of unhappiness hung over both of us. The situation hadn’t improved. I was still leaving tomorrow morning, and Tiffany was still marrying Mark. After all we’d done, we still couldn’t change anything.
“Hey,” Rowan said. He smiled, though he sounded a bit weary. “Do you want to watch Extreme Mountain Lads?”
I let out a breathy laugh. “Do I ever.”
We settled into a comfortable position on the bed together, our elbows touching. Physical contact was no longer awkward between us and hadn’t been for a while now. In fact, the idea of not being close to Rowan at all times seemed strange.
And this time tomorrow, I’ll be on the other side of the damn planet, I thought. It’s like Harvey sent me as far away from Rowan as possible without sending me into space.
Rowan flipped the channel on. I let my thoughts creep into the edges of my mind, forgotten for a moment as I indulged in the junky TV show.
One of the Lads was currently halfway up a roaring stream, stomping up against the flow and trying to catch fish with his bare hands. He somehow managed to snatch a big
writhing salmon out of the water before it slapped him in the face with its tail and fell back in.
“Alec?”
“Yeah?”
Rowan paused. “Never mind.”
I was about to ask him to elaborate when I suddenly sat bolt upright. “Oh my god.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Your gift,” I said, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. “From the aquarium.”
Rowan chuckled. “Good to know our brains are still on the same wavelength. I was about to ask you about that but then I got embarrassed.”
I scrambled off the bed, launching towards the desk where I’d last seen it. I knew I’d forgotten something while packing. How could I have been so stupid? I’d been so excited about Rowan’s present but with all the shit going on, it completely slipped my mind.
“Over here,” Rowan said. He fished—no pun intended—the gift bag out from beneath the bed. “When you didn’t open it right immediately, I put it away.”
I sighed in relief that it hadn’t gotten lost. I accepted the bag and sat back next to Rowan, who was blushing.
“Seriously, I didn’t mean for it to be such a big deal,” he mumbled, scratching his head. “It’s just a tiny gift.”
“Yeah, but it’s from you, which means I automatically love it.”
Rowan’s face turned redder than the salmon on TV.
I dug through the tissue paper like a greedy child ripping into a Christmas present. My hand touched something hard and heavy. I lifted it out. It was an aquatic-themed picture frame with an octopus trailing up the side, its tentacles making up the majority of the frame itself.
A slow, wide grin spread over my face.
Rowan grunted, his cheeks still flushed. “See? I told you. Small. And you got all worked up over it.”
Still clutching the frame in my hands, I leaned over to kiss Rowan on the lips. He let out a soft sound of surprise.
But I didn’t want to pull away. I parted my lips, and so did he. Our tongues slipped out, coiling and knotting, trying to suck each other in.
Arousal flared below my belly, bright and hot. I pushed Rowan into the bed, scrambling on top of him and straddling his waist. We were both half-hard and getting harder by the second. Rowan let out little mewls as our tongues met over and over again.
