Wow, the emotion of the moment caused him to let off the gas as he remembered how Colt had been out back when he’d arrived. Jace actually thought he’d been pranked. Maybe it would have been better all the way around if it had been a cruel joke. That steeled Jace’s heart.
“No, you aren’t doing this. You’re here to make new memories, not continue living in the past for one more day. Colt’s gonna be a married man in a few days. The past is done, it’s over… gone. No more pining. It’s getting seriously old." Jace nodded his head to affirm the resolve and ignored his heart. Once his heart had the new memories to hold on to, those old ones would be long gone. He was certain.
Jace turned on the sand-covered road and drove the quarter of a mile down to his property. The street was exactly as he remembered it. So was the house. Not necessarily in a good way. Jace parked the car right out front and looked the property over through the windshield of his Prius. He slowly got out of the car, his eyes still glued to the house, and he stood there, flabbergasted.
The vacation home of his dreams, the place he thought was the most majestic, perfect place on the planet was a run down, uncared for piece of crap. Great! He should have negotiated a better deal.
Chapter 18
Sober turned out to be such a different way to live life. Colt looked himself over in the floor length mirror of his overpriced spacious bathroom. Funny how every time he thought about this stupid condo, all he could think was how ridiculously expensive it had been. But the supermodel insisted he buy this place and threw a god-awful fit in front of the agent until he had no choice but to agree. She only ever got so far before she would toss the ever-present gay boy into the fight. Perhaps today the buyer’s remorse was a little worse, because after all, this was his wedding day.
Maryia selected a traditional style Armani black tuxedo for him to wear, since he’d refused any involvement in the plans for the day. As he stood in front of the mirror, he had to give her credit; she did know something about fashion and had chosen the perfect tux for him. Colt’s blue eyes popped against the stark black and white of what he wore. The puffy circles under his eyes, the ones he’d worn for much of the last ten years were now gone. His skin looked healthy, clean, and tanned. He turned in the mirror, looking at himself closely. Surprisingly, Colt thought he looked pretty good today, all things considered.
Maryia chose to sleep away from the condo last night. Claiming she wanted everything just right, including the tradition of not seeing the groom on the wedding day. She claimed something about turning over a new leaf in their relationship. Colt noticed his driver conspicuously absent until just about an hour ago. Colt didn’t care about their late night hook-ups. Actually, more like their secret late night, mid-morning, and after lunch hook-ups. He’d only ever told the driver to stop in order to piss Maryia off.
Once he realized their frequency, Colt paid special attention to the situation. He could tell his driver resented him being in the picture. Hell, he resented himself for being involved with the whole thing. So Colt had a one-on-one with Clint. Explaining they needed to be discreet and stay out of the line of cameras that always followed her around. He even point blank offered to pay Clint to marry her. They were clearly completely taken with each other, but the money grubbing bitch wanted Colt’s fame to boost her career. She refused to follow her heart’s desire and allow him in return to follow his. Goddamn, how he hated her!
SportsCenter played in the background from the television in the bedroom. Colt still had an hour or so before he needed to be at the wedding hall. He took his time, dressed slowly, and sat on the arm of the loveseat, listening again to the interview he’d given just a few days ago. Pictures of Maryia and Colt were on the screen. Funny how they were such a train wreck of a couple, yet considered an international superstar pairing. Colt couldn’t see the appeal at all while looking at the two of them on screen. Not one of the dozen or so photos shown had either one of them touching the other, unless of course Maryia was drunk and he was forced to care for her or keep her standing.
It also never ceased to fascinate how no one ever seemed to notice Maryia couldn’t keep her eyes open. They called her look sultry, exotic, and foreign. She was considered a rare beauty across the world, but Colt knew the truth. Maryia spent much of the time stoned out of her mind.
The SportsCenter interview wound to an end with the reporter finally talking about his career. After all, ESPN prided itself on their sports coverage, not the entertainment report this interview had turned out to be. The reporter bullet pointed the highlights of his football career. Ran quickly over the three Super Bowl rings he’d earned. The six years he was asked to play in the Pro Bowl. Colt’s number one quarterback ranking and this year’s MVP of the big game, all awarded to him by the NFL.
None of that mattered to the world or this interviewer—they only cared about the hype of his marriage to the blackmailing little slut. Maryia sat beside him in the interview. Colt slowed the program down to catch the little yawn she gave as they talked about his life, not hers. He laughed every single time he watched the program. She claimed to be exhausted from jet lag, but you had to be on a jet, flying, in order to get jet lag.
Colt’s alarm buzzed, reminding him of the time. At the same instant, the replay of the cheerleading competition began. Jace, hugging his last performing team, flashed across the screen. The image of him in that moment struck Colt hard and tears came to his eyes. In his heart of hearts, Colt wished this day was being spent with Jace, where he prepared to marry his Jace and no one else.