The truth was, that Nico was a choice. It wasn’t an arranged marriage like it had been to Camden. I chose to agree to Nico’s proposal. And when I was little, in the moments I let myself imagine a future that had me choosing my own husband, it was never one who didn’t love me.
I didn’t want to want him—a man who openly claimed he’d never love me.
But I did.
And maybe—just for tonight—I could repeat the gala. If I woke in the morning with regrets, I’d blame it on the alcohol and swear I’d never do it again.
The tension grew like a living thing between us, wrapping around our bodies, urging us closer. It spread across our backs, like a bubble enveloping us in our basic needs.
Despite standing in front of him in only a tiny scrap of lace, his eyes never wandered.
I rested the tips of my fingers at the bottom of his abdomen, a thrill rushing through me when his hard muscles rippled under my seeking tips. Slowly, I lifted each palm, rising higher past his chest to his shoulders.
Using him for support, I pressed to my toes and leaned in.
Only for him to grip my wrists like shackles and tug them away as he stepped back.
My heart stuttered over the quick, hard beat. Doubt squeezed my chest too tight.
“I don’t fuck drunk women,” he said.
Embarrassment washed over me like a bucket of cold water, freezing me on my toes, my wrists in his hands, and my jaw hanging open. All in a scrap of lace that felt sexy moments ago and now felt like that last shred of dignity I had left.
The heat burning in his eyes simmered, and part of me wondered if maybe I’d imagined the whole thing. Had it actually never been there?
Fuck.
Fuck.
I swallowed, struggling to pull myself together, grasping for any emotion—unable to feel anything beyond the alcohol sloshing in my stomach.
Oh, my god.
What a fool.
He’d said he’d fuck me anywhere, and here I was throwing myself at him just for him to reject me.
Was that his plan all along? To have me give in just to turn me down?
Shit. What an idiot.
I closed my eyes to focus, and one emotion shined in the dark. The one that was fast becoming my constant companion. The one that got me to this very moment in a room that wasn’t mine. In an apartment that wasn’t mine. In the arms of a man that technically wasn’t mine. With an engagement ring that should have never been mine.
Anger.
I reached out and clutched it tight like a shield.
Opening my eyes, I clenched my jaw and ripped my arms from his grip. I stumbled, and he reached to steady me, but I sidestepped, resting my hand on the nightstand to keep from falling.
“I’d regret it anyway,” I spat. “Just like all the other women you’ve probably fucked and left with regrets.”
Apparently, my anger sparked his own because a waterfall of ice covered any lingering heat in his gaze, and instead of the almost-smile from earlier, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Trust me, Vera. There’s nothing about me being inside your tight little body to regret. What did you say earlier?” He pursed his lips. “The best ever? Like a twenty?”
Embarrassment tried to slam into me again, but I used my shield as a weak defense. “Fuck you.”
“Happily. How about in the morning when you can actually participate?”
I choked on a forced laugh. “Yeah, right. You missed your chance. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth.”
“We’ll see about that.” Confidence dripped from every word, putting a dent in my shield more than embarrassment did.
Unable to form any more arguments as exhaustion crept through my limbs, I held my chin high. Struggling to not cover my chest, I portrayed my own confidence that was all a façade.
I bumped past him, wobbling as I stormed into the closet and clumsily got into a T-shirt and shorts. The shirt was inside out, and the shorts were on backward, but I didn’t care. I had about two-percent life left in me, and I was using every ounce to salvage my mangled pride.
I opened the door to find him still standing there, so I bumped him again and climbed into the right side of the bed.
“Goodnight, Nico. I really look forward to the next five years of not fucking you.”
With that, I flicked off the bedside lamp and rolled over, smiling at my small victory of having the last word.
At least until his low chuckle crept through the shadows like my darkest fantasy, poking holes in my thin confidence.
“Goodnight, Verana.”Twenty-ThreeVera“Last chance. You want to run?” Raelynn asked. Her ocean eyes met mine through my veil. She looked like a grenade with the pin pulled but not released. I may not be marrying someone I loved, but I had love around me today. “I already prepped Austin to clear us a path and call it all off. Bruce is on speed dial around the corner with the car.”