Second Chance (Chances #2)

by BJ Harvey

  “Did what we have mean so little to you?” I whisper, failing to hide the hurt in my voice. “For ten years we were each other’s everything. We were two days—two days—away from pledging our lives to each other, and you couldn’t even come home to say goodbye.” My breath hitches and I turn away from him, not wanting to give him anything, especially my tears. I bite my lip and swallow down the lump in my throat, thankfully holding the crying at bay.

  “There’s a lot there to break down, Gabs,” is all he says. The words are rough, but my frustration at his answer is worse. Anger courses through me as I take a step toward him.

  “Bree, baby . . .” he says, reaching out and laying his hand on my arm. His touch sears my skin, memories of him calling me Bree assaulting my brain, breaking through when I don’t want them to. He’s the only one who’s ever called me that. I jump back as if I’ve been shocked, my eyes wide as saucers.

  “Don’t,” I growl. “You don’t get to call me that. Not now, not ever again.”

  “I just want to talk,” he says softly. There’s no way he’s missed the effect he’s had on me.

  “How long have you been back, Luke?”

  “I was here a few weeks ago and just got back in last night.”

  “Right,” I reply with a scoff. “And you decided today was the day you’d try to make up for your past mistakes with my parents.”

  “And you.” He exhales and looks to the ground, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck the same way he always used to do when he was uncomfortable. “I know you usually visit on Sundays.”

  I narrow my eyes. “How can you know that? I haven’t seen you in six years.”

  “You’re a creature of habit, Bree—”

  “Don’t call me that,” I grind out. His lips twitch and it grates me even more. “And don’t pull that grin bullshit on me. It doesn’t work on me anymore.”

  He schools his expression. “I want the chance to explain things. Explain everything. Why I did what I did, why I disappeared . . .”

  “And what would that achieve? I’ve moved on.”

  “With the guy at the gym,” he says flatly.

  I knew he’d seen us. “So you did see me at the gym.”

  “Hard to miss you anywhere, but when a woman trips on the treadmill then runs out of the fire exit, it draws attention.”

  “Right,” I mutter. My cheeks heat and I look away.

  “It was cute though. Seeing you all nervous and awkward.”

  “I was not awkward.”

  “But you were nervous,” he says, taking a step toward me.

  “Stop,” I say on a taut whisper. “Nothing has changed.”

  “You’ve changed,” he says, closing the distance between us.

  Abort, Abort.

  I put my hand up to stop him from coming any closer. “You can’t turn up six years after breaking my heart and expect me to forgive and forget.” I take a deep breath and level him with a stare, making sure I have his complete attention. “You obliterated me, Luke. You didn’t say goodbye; you selfishly left and didn’t even have the decency to tell me yourself what was happening. I found out from a reporter. A stranger. Do you know how that made me feel? I questioned everything. I doubted you still loved me at the end. And the worst of it . . .” My voice breaks. I know I have to leave before I let him see me break down. He doesn’t get to see that. Not now—not ever. “You made the decision for the both of us. You let me think I was going to be your wife when you chose your career, the drugs—all of it over me.” I take a much-needed breath and lay it all out there. “I wanted to be your everything, and in doing so, I lost myself along the way. You leaving made me see that.” My voice is thick now. I have well and truly lost the stranglehold I had on my emotions. But if this is the last time I get to see him, I want there to be nothing left unsaid. I’ve waited long enough to get the closure I need to let it slip through my fingers now.

  “I don’t want anyone to be my everything again. I found myself, and that’s who I’m keeping safe now.” I move around him and walk to the door, stopping when I reach the handle.

  I look over my shoulder and meet his tortured gaze. There’s no doubt in my mind now that he regrets what he did. But that’s not my problem anymore, and it hasn’t escaped me that he has not offered any explanation.

  “You’re not the same boy I fell for or the man I was so deeply in love with I never wanted to let go. And I’m not your Bree anymore either. I’m stronger for it, and I know I’m never going to lose myself by loving someone ever again. You taught me that. I live with that now. But there is one thing I realized. Us together? We’re not good. Without realizing we were doing it, we brought out the worst in each other.” Turning back, I open the door and step inside but not before I hear Luke say one more thing, and that’s something that stays with me the whole way home.

  “If that was your worst, Bree, you were still nothing short of perfect to me.”

  Chapter 17

  I pull into my parking spot. The visitor’s park is empty. I turn the engine off and sit there, hands on the steering wheel, staring out the windshield. What just happened?

  Just a few hours ago, I was happy. I was in my little bubble having opened up my home—my sanctuary—to a man for the first time in six years. I know Bruno realizes the enormity of this move; he’s been so careful. In the two weeks since I offered for him to live with me, he has asked me numerous times whether I’m okay with the idea. Even bringing his stuff over today he gave me the job of unpacking the boxes with no more than a kiss on my head and a “put anything anywhere.”

  Having seen Luke and hearing his non-explanation about what happened before he floored me with the “you were nothing short of perfect to me” parting shot, I don’t know what or how to feel.

  I will myself to move, getting out of the car and making my way into my condo.

  Me: I saw him

  Kenzie: Who?

  Me: Luke. He was at my parents’.

  Kenzie: WHAT?

  Me: Yep. He paid my parents back for the wedding.

  Kenzie: What in the hell? Why would he do that?

  Me: He’s trying to redeem himself. Make up for past mistakes.

  Kenzie: And you . . .

  Me: I went outside, he followed.

  Kenzie: AND . . .

  Me: That explanation requires tequila, takeout, and maybe a tranquilizer.

  Kenzie: That bad?

  Me: How can that man still get a reaction out of me?

  Kenzie: Wanna come here? You can tell me all about it and I’ll send Millen out to entertain Bruno. They need boy time just as much as I need my Gaby time.

  Me: See you in twenty.

  Everyone should have a best friend like Kenzie. She’s always there for whatever drama comes my way. Not that there have been a lot—my no-strings philosophy has ensured that—but ever since we met as kids, we’ve been there for each other, through thick and thin, love and heartache, and the return of ghosting boyfriends and disappearing fiancés.

  Three hours later, I’m ten sheets to the wind, lounging on Kenzie’s couch, Millen and Bruno sitting at the dining table watching us with amusement. They’d gone out for a few games of pool with Mark and Dalyn from the bar before coming back to see us.

  Kenzie is draped over her recliner in much the same way that I am with an empty bottle of tequila and pizza boxes scattered across the table in front of us.

  Once Millen leaves to meet up with the guys, I tell Kenzie all about the exchange with Luke. Like the good friend she is, she does nothing but hum and hah throughout the story until I am finished.

  “He said that?” she asks when I’d finished.

  “Yep. Said it like he hasn’t been gone for six years. Like he could pledge his love, open his check book, and I’d come running back to him with arms wide open.”

  “This definitely needs more tequila,” she grumbles, walking over to her liquor cabinet and pulling ou
t two shot glasses and a bottle of Asombroso Anejo tequila. “Only the good stuff will help us now.”

  My brain is on autopilot but my emotions were raging and even as drunk as I am, I still can’t get my head around why Luke had such an effect on me.

  I haven’t told Bruno anything about today. I will, though; I have to. I’ve already opened up to him—something I haven’t done with any man since Luke. I owe it to him to tell him Luke is hoping for redemption.

  “We need more drinks,” I groan, blindly reaching out for the empty bottle.

  Bruno stands and moves across the room, squatting beside the couch until he’s eye level with me. “You need bed and sleep.”

  “I need you,” I slur, earning an adorable grin.

  Then without another word, Bruno is lifting me up into his arms—not straining for a second—and carrying me out of the room.

  “Bye, Kenz. See you tomorrow!” I call out.

  “Byeeeee,” she replies before erupting into giggles. The last thing I see is Millen leaning over her in the chair.

  Knowing my fate for the night is sealed, I snuggle into Bruno’s chest and enjoy the ride as he deposits me into the passenger seat of his truck and, once settled in the driver’s side, starts the truck and turns toward home.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “Hmm,” he says, reaching over and resting his hand on my leg. That feels good.

  “Luke is back.”

  “You told me that, baby.”

  “He was at my parents’.”

  Bruno’s hand stills, and a quick glance his way sees him white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  “What did he want?” he says gruffly. I knew he wouldn’t like this development.

  “He paid my parents back. For the wedding, I mean. I was rude. Then I went outside and he followed. I told him things. He said things back.”

  “What things, Gaby?” His voice is low and growly now. There’s no way Bruno hasn’t connected the fact that I saw Luke today with the fact I got completely wasted at Kenzie’s house soon after.

  “He didn’t say why he did it. Just that he’s wanting redemption. He said that even at my worst . . .” My mind flashes back to the look of absolute certainty on his face when he shattered my newfound domestic bliss.

  “Even at your worst, what?” he grinds out, not sounding anywhere close to the man who carried me to the car.

  I look across and meet his eyes. His are full of concern and swirling anger. I whisper the words I know off by heart. “Even at my worst, I was still nothing short of perfect to him.” Even drunk I can’t forget what Luke said. I ramble on, “And you know what’s funny?” I ask, not waiting for him to answer. “It doesn’t matter if you’re perfect for me and I love you, because even if I would marry you—or anyone—Luke ruined that for me.”

  A growled “dammit” and a hand thumping against the steering wheel are the last things I hear before I pass out.

  ***

  The next thing I know it’s morning, and I’m groaning at the sunlight streaming through a gap in my blinds and shining straight on my face. Rolling over, I stretch my arm out expecting to find purchase on a hopefully naked Bruno, but I’m met with tepid empty sheets.

  I slowly open my eyes, confirm I’m alone, then scrub my eyes with my hands and fall to my back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. My night comes flashing back to me. Drinking with Kenzie, Millen and Bruno laughing at us, Bruno carrying me to his truck and then . . .

  And then . . . holy fuck . . . .I told him that I . . .

  I told him I loved him, and now he’s not here. I’m not sure how to take that.

  Did I freak him out? Did he like it? I must’ve passed out before I could see his reaction.

  It’s on that thought that the man himself walks into the bedroom and looks down at me. “Hey, baby. How’s the head?”

  I turn his way as he sits on the edge of the mattress right by the crook of my hips. “I’ve made coffee, and there’s Advil on the nightstand for you.”

  “You’re perfect,” I say, pulling myself up into a sitting position. Bruno’s jaw tightens and his eyes drop to the floor as he drags his hand through his damp hair.

  “Everything okay?” My stomach tightens at his body language. He was warm and relaxed with me, and now he’s stiff and tense.

  “Yep. Look, I just came to say goodbye before I go out. I’ve got some things to take care of after the gym so I’ll come back to take you to work this afternoon.”

  “Oh . . .” I try to hide my disappointment. This is a man who spends most of his spare time with me, so him having stuff to do—and stuff I don’t know about—is weird, but I’ve never been one of those clingy women, and I’m not about to start now.

  “Alright. I might wait for the Advil to kick in and then finish the unpacking.”

  “Sounds good, Gaby.” He leans down and gives me a shorter-than-I’d-like-but-full-of-meaning kiss before standing and walking to the door. “By the way, there’s something else.”

  My brows bunch, and I’m sure he doesn’t miss my look of confusion if his smirk is anything to go by. “What is it?” I ask quietly, my heart pounding.

  “I love you too.” He grins, blows me a kiss, and disappears from sight.

  My stomach leaps, sending butterflies scattering, and I slide down the headboard and onto my back, laughing my ass off

  Had I known what was ahead for us just two weeks later, I probably would’ve acted differently. I would’ve made him talk. I would’ve enjoyed the newfound domestic bliss, maybe even valued it more.

  But then again, don’t they say foresight is a wonderful thing.

  Chapter 18

  Two weeks later, I’m dressed up to the nines, ready to celebrate at Kenzie and Millen’s engagement party. The moment we step inside the bar, however, I know that I’ve been had.

  The giveaway was “surprise” being yelled at me from all directions, everyone important to me standing in a semicircle with beaming smiles, a happy birthday banner tied across the bar.

  “This isn’t an engagement party,” I deadpan, my eyes wide as I take in the room. I look up at Bruno who just grins down at me. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says, dropping a hard but full of meaning kiss on my lips.

  I lean back and gently smack my hand against his arm. “You tricked me.”

  “Yep.” His Cheshire cat smile gives away just how proud of himself he is. How did they pull this off?

  Kenzie comes up to me next, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing tight. “We got you good this time.”

  “Do I at least get to hold you a bridal shower?” I ask with a laugh.

  “You can do whatever you like because your face when you walked into the room was priceless.”

  “My turn,” Hamish says, pushing in beside me. “Hey, short stuff.” He lifts me up and swings me around, making me giggle. “I like seeing a smile like that on your face,” he says, dropping me back down to the ground. His husband, James, pops his head out from behind him and I squeal, instantly letting my brother go and launching myself at my brother-in-law for a hug.

  Once I’ve greeted my family, Bruno steps forward and snakes an arm around my waist, claiming me back. “She’s been smiling a lot lately,” he adds.

  “Good to know,” my brother replies with an approving nod.

  “You two, I am standing right here, you know?”

  “Yep, and I also know you’ve been dealing with some issues from your past without a single word about it to me.” That’s Hamish, never one to fuck around when it comes to getting down to it. “Why did I hear it from Mom that Luke was back?”

  Bruno’s arm tenses around me, his fingers biting into my hip for a moment before his grip loosens.

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” I reply, waving my hand in the air. And it truly doesn’t. “Besides, we’re not ruining my birthday. Speaking of which, this birthday girl needs a drink.”

  “Lemo
ns and lemonade, baby?” Bruno asks, his eyes warm and amused.

  “As long as it involves a nice big margarita with a shit-ton of salt, then abso-fucking-lutely.”

  ***

  So far, the night has been fantastic. My eyes are drawn to the small stage at the back of the bar. More so, the man standing up there—my man—who whistles loudly to get the crowd’s attention before crooking his finger at me. Kenzie pushes me forward gently, laughing at the glare I shoot over my shoulder at her. I may be loud when I wanna be, but being center of attention is definitely not my jam.

  When I reach the stage, Bruno holds out his hand to me and laces his fingers with mine the moment I make contact.

  Then he shocks the ever-loving shit out of me and drops to one knee.

  Grabbing life by the short and curlies is usually my deal. It’s not the deal of the man kneeling at my feet, a black velvet box in his hand with the platinum ring inside almost as bright as the diamond it holds. He’s the cool, calm, and collected one. The ‘take it easy so Gaby doesn’t freak out’ one. He’s not a man I thought would ever do this.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  He looks up from where he kneels, his sly grin making my heart stop. “Living in the moment, Gabs.”

  Bruno is a one-of-a-kind guy, a once-in-a-lifetime chance any woman shouldn’t—and wouldn’t—give up. But I’m not any woman and in this one move he’s taking the poker hand that is me, disregarding the odds, doubling down, and going all in.

  Three hours ago, I was comfortable. I had nothing to worry about beyond the orgasm I was chasing.

  Looking into his gorgeous eyes, the ones that are normally both soft and intense, they’re now fierce, tinged with a sliver of uncertainty. His jaw is tense; his body is wired.

  How did I get to this point, and how did I not see it coming? Things have been good—fucking brilliant, actually—but this development was never on the cards. Why did he have to go and ruin a good thing?

  “Bruno . . .” I say, my voice a hushed whisper. I don’t want to do this here. In fact, I don’t want to do this at all. I got close once and vowed never to again. Not just with Bruno, but with anyone.