“Well clearly I like it then.” He purrs against my mouth before gently brushing his lips against mine. The contact instantly makes me crave more but Zayne has other plans in mind. Pulling away, he smiles and turns his attention back to preparing our plates.
He joins me at the island, pulling out the stool next to me to take a seat when the doorbell sounds, startling us both. I raise my eyebrows at him and he shrugs his shoulders like he has no idea who could be here.
Then a hard knock pounds against the door and Alec's voice carries through the room. “Zayne, I know you're home. Open the door,” he says, knocking again.
Zayne turns to me, his eyes betraying him by revealing the panic in those beautiful pools of deep blue. “I'll be in the bedroom. Let me know when he's gone,” I say, seeing his relief immediately.
Did he really think I was going to open the door and let Alec find me here? While I want to stop hiding this from my brother, finding me in his best friend's apartment half naked is not the way I envisioned telling him.
Zayne nods and quickly stands from his stool while I scramble down the hallway, ducking into his study. I hear Alec the moment he enters the apartment and as much as I don't want to eavesdrop, I can't resist the urge to push my ear up to the door in hopes of hearing what he wants.
“Have you fucking lost your mind?” Alec's voice is as clear as day and he doesn't sound happy. “You realize that you not being able to keep it in your pants almost cost us the biggest deal of our fucking careers. What the hell were you thinking?” His words cause a tight knot to form in the pit of my stomach and I strain harder against the wood to hear Zayne's response, which knowing I’m just down the hall comes out much lighter than Alec's.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Zayne's response comes almost immediately.
“Ashley!” Alec roars. “I told you weeks ago to stay away from her. Hell, I've been telling you for years to stop fucking all of our business associates, but apparently my requests have fallen on deaf ears and you do whatever the fuck you want to do.” I can tell that Alec is fighting to keep his temper in control, and honestly, I’m doing the same. With every word the sickening knot in my stomach grows tighter but I can't make myself not listen. “Apparently, she made it a point to discuss your lack of professionalism with Mr. Lee, as well as many other concerns she has about going into business with us.”
“What the fuck does me sleeping with anyone have to do with my professionalism?” Zayne protests, anger rising in his voice.
“It doesn't, you asshole. But sleeping with her and then ditching her, no matter how common that may be for you, clearly pissed her off and she purposely tried to sabotage our deal. Lucky for you, I was able to convince him not to back out, but only after I promised that you would keep to developing the software and I would handle the business between us going forward.” Alec's voice takes on a bit of a calmer approach but he still sounds beyond pissed. “Look, I know you, man, and I get it but please, please just keep it professional from now on with anyone we are doing business with or may potentially do business with in the future.”
“It won't be an issue,” Zayne reassures him.
“Are you expecting company?” Alec asks and based on Zayne's response, I know he's referring to the two plates on the kitchen island.
“Yeah. Should be here soon,” Zayne says casually.
“Well I don't want to intrude.” Alec’s voice falls fainter which leads me to believe he's moving toward the door. He says something else but I can't make out his words or Zayne's response.
I hear as the door opens and clicks shut but I can't bring myself to move. Alec's words are playing over and over again in my head and each time they do, I feel like another piece of my heart is breaking off and disappearing inside of me.
I mindlessly walk behind the desk, running my fingertips across the dark stained wood before taking a seat in the tall back, black chair sitting behind it. I lean forward and put my head in my hands, trying to rationalize what just happened. Zayne slept with Ashley, that much is clear. But did he sleep with her before or after he and I started?
I know the answer to that without having to ask him. Clearly this was recent and while I may be a bit on the innocent side, that doesn't make me stupid. I know that she joined them in China and seeing how this all apparently blew up after that, I can only come to one conclusion.
I hear the door open but I don't look up. I don't want to see him right now. I don't want to hear the excuses or the lies that I’m so sure are going to come. I knew this was the deal, right? So why did I choose to put myself through this all over again? Why did I come back here with him Friday night when I knew we would eventually end up here in the end? I let myself believe that he felt more, that this was more, but I see now that I was simply trying to find things that weren't there.
“Grace.” His voice is hesitant and I can hear his footsteps tread softly across the hardwood floor. “Look at me,” he pleads.
I slowly look up but the moment my eyes meet his I regret it. There is so much remorse behind his beautiful blue eyes. So much remorse and it tells me everything I thought is accurate. I straighten my back and meet his gaze, determined not to break down and be the pitiful girl that I know lives inside of me.
“You heard?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“I did,” I confirm, my voice even and emotionless.
“Grace, it's not what you think.” He quickly approaches the edge of the desk. I throw my hands up, gesturing for him not to come any closer. He stops and plops into one of the chairs sitting on the other side of the desk, a loud sigh escaping his lips.
“Not what I think?” I question, cocking my head to the side to look at him. “You keep saying that and yet, I think we both know it’s exactly what I think. Unless you're telling me you didn't sleep with her. Did you, Zayne? Did you sleep with her?” Once again my voice holds strong even though my insides are a quivering mess.
“I did,” he admits, breaking away from my eyes for a fraction of a second before settling back on me. “But you have to give me a chance to explain. I told you that while I was in China I tried everything I could to forget about you. Not because I wanted to but because I knew it was best for you. My power to stay away from you has dwindled to nothing and I needed a distraction, something – anything – to make me feel like the man I was before I met you.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Ashley was there and more than willing, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I ended up at the hotel bar and stumbled back to my room hours later only to find she never left. By that point everything I was feeling was coming to the surface and when I saw her, half naked laying across my bed, I stopped thinking and started acting.”
“I've heard enough,” I say, rising to my feet before quickly making my way out of the room. I veer down the hall and slam the bedroom door shut, quickly throwing on my clothes before hightailing it toward the front door. Zayne catches me right as I reach the foyer, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face him.
“Please. Just listen,” he pleads, grabbing my hands in his. “I slept with her, Grace, I did. And not a second goes by that I don't regret it but even though I was with her physically, it was you that I was with that night, not her. It's been you since the moment I saw you on that dock. It's been you since the moment you begged me to kiss you after you had too much to drink. You're all I can think about, Grace.”
While his words are everything I want to hear, they don't soothe the pain that is slowly slicing through my body. I have dreamed about the day that he would say something like this to me but not like this. Not on the back end of me finding out that he slept with another woman.
“Don't, Zayne.” I pull my hands away from his. While I have managed to stay strong, a small quiver makes its way into my voice and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
I make another move toward the door but once again he halts my steps.
“Please, Grace. Don't w
alk away. I'm sorry. I know I messed up. My intention was to let you go. I know you deserve better than this, than me. And I had made up my mind that when you played that song for me, I would never hurt you again. I never meant to show up at Vitos on Friday or for you to end up staying here all weekend but it was like the moment I stepped off the plane, all I could think about was getting to you. Seeing you, holding you. And once you were in my arms, there was no way I could let you go. I never meant for you to know or to find out because I never intended for this to continue.”
I can feel tears stinging the back of my eyes but I fight them down. I can hide my emotions at all cost. I've perfected it, after all.
“We are not together, Zayne. I have no claim on you and it is entirely your business who you choose to sleep with. But I won't continue to sneak around with you and lie to my family. Not when you are hell bent on proving the world right about you.”
My words take him back for a moment and I can see the hurt flicker in his eyes but it disappears just as quickly.
“I never meant to hurt you, Grace.” He reaches up to trace his finger down my cheek. I pull away from his touch.
For as painful as the truth is, his touch hurts even more. Knowing that I will never feel it again. That I will never know the intensity of his blue eyes staring back at me or have the security of his strong arms to hold me when my façade falls away and I become a broken girl that no one but him gets to see.
“This was a mistake, Zayne. You aren't a man that can settle for only one woman and I'm not a woman who can share. There's really nothing left to say.”
“But don't you see what I’m telling you? I don't want you to share. I want to be yours and only yours and for you to be mine. Please tell me you want that too,” he pleads, his eyes searching mine.
I want to believe him. I want to rush into his arms and tell him how much I love him and that I will never leave him, but I can't do it. I don't know if it's the sting of realizing that Zayne could sleep with someone else, knowing full well I could have never done that to him, or if this is simply my out.
I have known for quite some time that my fear would eventually win out over my heart. I love him too much already. If I don't lose him the way I lost Kyle, the fact still remains that I will lose him, one way or another. No matter what he thinks he wants now, deep down I know that I will never be enough for him.
“I can't.” My words come out barely above a whisper. “I'm sorry, Zayne, I just can't.” I step past him without meeting his eyes.
He doesn't attempt to stop me this time.
I open the door and turn back to see him facing away from me, his shoulders hunched and his head dropped down. The sight alone breaks my heart into a million tiny pieces but I know it's for the best.
“Goodbye, Grace,” I hear him say as the door clicks closed between us.
I can't help but feel like I just shut the door on the only chance I’ll ever get at true happiness. But what is a short time of happiness when in the end it will only result in a lifetime of pain?
“Goodbye, Zayne,” I whisper, glancing back at the door before walking away.
Chapter Ten
“GRACIE, TIME’S UP GIRL.” Becca nudges me from the side, pulling me from my daze. I’m only through half of my set for the night and I’m already exhausted.
Sleep has not been a friend of mine here recently and my newfound love of partying with Jake and Becca until all hours of the morning certainly does not help. I glance over to see Becca studying me intently, her tongue working her small lip ring into circles.
“What?” I blurt, which comes out a bit rude. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“He's here again.” Her eyes go to the end of the bar before settling back on me. Even though I tell myself not to look, I can't control the overwhelming urge to see his face.
When my eyes settle on him, a mixture of excitement and sadness stirs through me. He looks tired but otherwise perfect. I glance back to Becca, then without really meaning to, my eyes settle on him again.
I thought for sure him showing up two days after we said our goodbyes was a one-time thing. I never expected to see him again the next day, or the next, or the next. But each time I think for sure he's not going to show up, he does.
He has been here every night that I have played at Vitos for the last three weeks. He never speaks. He avoids looking at me when he knows I'm looking at him. He always sits at the end of the bar. And he always leaves during the last song of my set, allotting him enough time to slip away before I’m finished.
It takes everything I have to rip my eyes away from his perfectly chiseled jaw and messy bedroom hair that I want nothing more than to run my fingers through.
“Come on, girl. Don't give him the satisfaction.” Becca pulls my attention back to her. “Get your ass up there and do what you do.” She pats my arm and gestures toward the stage.
“Hey, Jake,” I holler down the bar to get his attention. He stops restocking the refrigerator and pops his head up in question. “Shot of tequila,” I mouth but then changing my mind, I speak out loud. “You know what, make it a double,” I say to his backside.
I see his shoulders vibrate with laughter as he makes quick work of pouring my drink. When he turns back around and sits the drink in front of me, there is a knowing look in his eyes.
Jake and Becca, of course, know the whole story about Zayne. While Becca thinks I would be mad to ever give him the time of day again, Jake doesn't agree. Maybe as a guy, he thinks he can relate better to the male’s perspective, but for whatever reason he thinks I should at least talk to him.
I plaster on a smile and shake my head at him. No way am I going down that road again. It's one thing to look at him night after night then get up there and sing knowing his eyes are on me. But talking to him, hearing his voice, being close enough to smell his scent. That is something else entirely.
I pour the liquid down my throat, a slight shiver running through my body as the alcohol burns its way down. Jake grabs me a bottle of water and twists off the cap before handing it to me. I give him an appreciative smile and take the bottle from him before spinning on my stool and pushing myself to my feet.
It takes me seventeen steps to get to the stage from the bar. I know because I have counted these same steps for the last three weeks. Seventeen painfully slow steps to take every night, feeling Zayne's eyes burning holes through my back.
Reaching the stage is like reaching my safe haven. Once I’m there, Zayne can't hurt me. I lose him in the lights and sound and like every other time I have played, the world around me fades away until all that is left is me. Me and my guitar.
I wish I could say that the last three weeks have not been pure and total hell but I can't. Truth is, they have been some of the hardest days I have faced in a very long time, increased only by Zayne's need to show up here every night and torture me.
I know he's not doing it on purpose. I know that in his own way he really does care about me. But that doesn't change one thing, not really. At the end of the day, we are still the same broken people with the same problems.
There's no magic that will fix my need to push everyone away, nor is there any that will change the person that he is. Sometimes I find myself imagining that in some alternate universe maybe we could be each other’s answer. Maybe all we really need is each other and everything else will fall into place.
But then I’m reminded that life simply does not work that way. There are no fairytales or happily ever after’s. Life is hard and cruel and finds ways to keep you down, no matter how hard you fight to get back up.
I’m not foolish enough to believe that the type of happiness I could have with Zayne could ever truly last. Some things really are too good to be true.
I begin strumming the opening chords to “Turning Tables” by Adele. It took me weeks to figure out how to make it sound right on the guitar, but I figured out a really cool arrangement that slows the chorus down just a fraction and makes it even
more intimate.
As my own voice fills my ears, my focus turns to the words, the feeling, the emotion behind each and every note I sing. There is something so painfully beautiful about the way Adele can lay her soul bare in a song.
As much as I want to find Zayne, to focus on his beautiful face, to let his very presence ease some of the pain that is slowly taking me under, I don't look for him. I know he's here. I feel his eyes on me. Even in a crowd of twenty people, I can tell his eyes from the others.
There is something about the way my skin heats and the air seems almost electric. I don't know how to explain it, but when I feel it, I know it. I know it's his eyes skating across my face. His eyes trailing the length of my body. His eyes peering directly into my soul.
Each song I sing holds a piece of me in the lyrics. Like every night before this one, I purposely pick songs that I can relate to. It's the only way I can escape. For the three minutes of a song, I can lay my entire heart on this stage and no one will know otherwise.
Well, no one except for the one man who seems to see right through every wall I have surrounded myself with.
By the end of my set, a heavy sadness settles over me. I know without looking to the end of the bar that he’s gone. I know that I will have to wait until next Sunday to see him again, if he decides to come back.
I never thought I would dread the end of my work week so much. But the thought of not seeing his face for the next three days sits on my chest like a hundred bricks, making it near impossible to breathe.
I don't know what I hate more. The fact that he continues to show up here night after night and remind me of what I can’t have, or the fact that I look forward to it and continue to be devastated at the end of my set, knowing that he's gone.
“Another amazing night, Gracie,” Becca sings from the dance floor as she sweeps. I latch my guitar case closed and throw it over my shoulder before joining her on the floor.
“You guys sure you don't need help this weekend?” I ask, pouting my lips out in a pretty please smile.
The Way Back Page 17
