He’d never made me guess about his whereabouts, never purposefully made me jealous. He never played games with me. I always knew where I stood and it was always as his first priority. I lied to Ollie about the fact that he’d been a shitty boyfriend. He had been an amazing friend and lover. A flood of memories came back all at once, rushing to the surface, and making their presence known. These memories consisted of nothing but the talks we used to have about our future, days and nights filled with endless laughter and amazing sex, rainy days spent studying while trying to remain dressed in my dorm room, our summer at the lake, and the last unbeatable night Dean had called me his own. Fighting with him had even been enjoyable in its own right. I saw all these things in the crystal blue depths of his eyes. He was a passionate man, much like his mother, a natural romantic. It never felt forced with him, only natural. I’d never left his side without a smile, or his bed without feeling completely full of him, confident in our relationship.
“You remember,” he whispered as he pulled my hand to his beautiful full lips and placed small sensual kisses against my knuckles before letting it go. I nodded in agreement to his statement. We were beautiful. If not the same, then even more so than Rose and her fiancé. Loud laughter filled the room next to us as the front door opened and Josh walked in then froze. Our posture was intimate, though we were feet apart as he openly glared at us.
“I’ll refill my own glass, thank you.” Dean acknowledged Josh with a nod as he made his way back to the party.
“Why the hell is he here?” Josh said, irritated as he scanned me
from head to toe as he approached me.
“My mother invited him. He’s an old friend of the family. Rose wanted him here,” I defended.
“I thought he was an old college friend,” he bit out viciously, unable to hide his distaste.
“I’ve known him since high school,” I said, dreading his reaction.
“I got my shift covered at the last minute and thought I’d surprise you. Looks like you weren’t missing me,” he hissed, leaning in possessively.
“Stop it. Don’t act like a jerk. This is an important night for my sister,” I scolded. “Don’t act pissy around my family.”
“Fine, you’re right, but you promised me you would stay away from him.”
“Again, I didn’t invite him, but he’s not going anywhere. You might want to get used to that,” I said defiantly as he gripped my wrist, turning me to face him.
“And I’m not supposed to take offense to that? I’m thinking maybe you don’t want me here. It’s written all over your face.”
“Suit yourself,” I said, ripping my wrist away and rubbing the soreness out from his too tight grip.
“Josh,” my father greeted, “come and see my newest design.” I mouthed a thank you to my father, who seemed to be picking up on the animosity between us.
“Sir, it’s good to see you,” he greeted, shaking his hand. I looked up to see Dean had watched the scene play out. His deadly gaze was fixed on Josh. I shook my head at him then turned my attention to Rose.
Now was not the time. I hurried upstairs to get myself together. I walked into the bathroom, seeing evidence of my arousal from Dean’s words all over my face. I shook it off. I didn’t want to entertain it any further or I was sure I would happily let him whisk me away to fulfill his promise to touch me the way I craved him. Every word I’d said, every promise I’d made to myself fell away with Dean’s words. I couldn’t stop shaking. If I gave in to Dean, what would that say about me? I’d come so far from the girl who had begged him not to break her heart in New York, from the fifteen-year-old who vied desperately for his attention. No matter what decision I made about Dean, I was becoming more certain about Josh. He was right. I hadn’t wanted him there. I should have been relieved when he showed up. I had been slowly withdrawing from him and he knew it, but I refused to let Dean be the reason.
“There you are,” Rose said as I made my way down the stairs. “I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”
“I’ve been playing hostess, but I’m all yours,” I said cheerfully.
“Come on, let’s go hit our spot,” she said, grabbing my hand. She led me out to my mother’s rose garden where we took a seat on the cedar bench. It had been a rendezvous point for the women of our family for as long as I could remember.
“He’s beautiful, Rose, truly,” I complimented as she smiled broadly.
“He’s so much more than that.”
I noticed her demeanor change and asked, “What? What’s wrong?”
“Things are too good, you know? It’s a miracle I found him, or actually, he found me. Do you know what his first words to me were?”
Feeling the guilt associated with not knowing a damn thing, I quickly remedied by saying, “Tell me everything.”
“He introduced himself to me on campus as the man who was going to marry me.” She laughed, her eyes distant with the memory. She told me how their whirlwind romance started and how he was dating a woman who was in medical school that had attended her first class when she literally ran into him. He had watched her squirm under his stare the entire three hour lecture before professing to her in a crowded hallway that she was it for him.
“I thought he was insane,” she said thoughtfully, “but then I got to know who he really was and…God, sorry, I’m babbling.”
“As you should, Rose, it’s a really cool story. Please forgive me for not being a better sister.”
“We are both so busy. One day, we will get to all of it,” she promised and I nodded. “How about tonight I stay here with you and we do just that?”
“No way, this is your engagement party. I’m sure your fiancée wants to take you home and ravage you. How about next week? Just you and me, okay?”