After Ever Happy (After #4) (54 page)

BOOK: After Ever Happy (After #4)
6.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I watch as Tessa follows Smith out to the dance floor, and I’m thankful for Landon and his new wife’s love for slow and sappy songs. Smith looks miserable and Tessa looks nervous as they begin to dance.

“How’ve you been?” Doctor asks me as we both watch the same woman.

“Fine, and you?” I should be nice to the guy—he
is
dating the woman that I will spend my life loving.

“Good, I’m in my second year of medical school now.”

“So what, only ten left to go?” I laugh, being as nice as I can be to a guy who I know has feelings for Tessa.

I dismiss myself and stride over to Tessa and Smith. She sees me first and freezes when her eyes meet mine.

“May I cut in?” I ask, tugging at the back of Smith’s dress shirt before either of them can refuse. My hands immediately move to her waist, resting on her hips. I follow her lead and freeze, feeling overwhelmed by my fingers touching her.

It’s been so long, too long, since the last time I held her. She came to Chicago a few months ago for her friend’s wedding, but she didn’t invite me as her date. She went solo, but we met after and had dinner. It was nice; she had a glass of wine and we shared a massive mound of ice cream, topped with chocolate candies and too much hot fudge. She asked me to come back to her hotel for another drink—wine for her, club soda for me—and we fell asleep after I made love to her on the floor of her hotel room.

“I thought I would save you from dancing with him, he’s a little short. Terrible dance partner,” I finally say when I can pull my head out of my ass.

“He told me you bribed him.” She smiles at me, shaking her head.

“That little fucker.” I glare at the traitor as he sits back down at a table, alone again.

“You two have gotten pretty close, even since I last saw you,” she says with admiration, and I can’t stop the blush rushing to my cheeks if I tried.

“Yeah, guess so.” I shrug. Her fingers tighten on my shoulders, and I sigh. Literally fucking sigh, and I know she can hear it.

“You look very well.” She stares at my mouth. I decided to put my ring back in a few days after I saw her in Chicago.

“ ‘Well’? I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” I bring her closer to me, and she lets me.

“Very good, handsome. Very hot.” The last words tumble from her full lips by accident. I can tell by the way her eyes go wide and she bites down on her lower lip.

“You’re the sexiest woman in the room; always have been.”

She tilts her head down, trying to hide in the mass of long, blond curls.

“Don’t hide, not from me,” I quietly say. Nostalgia fills me at the familiar words, and I can tell by her expression that she’s feeling the same.

She quickly changes the subject. “When’s the release date for your next book?”

“Next month—did you read it? I had an early copy sent to you.”

“Yes, I read it.” I take the opportunity to pull her to my chest. “I’ve read them all, remember?”

“What do you think?” The songs ends and another begins. As the female voice fills the room, we look into each other’s eyes.

“This song,” Tessa softly laughs. “Of course they would play this song.”

I brush a loose curl away from her eyes, and she swallows, blinking slowly. “I’m so happy for you, Hardin. You’re an incredible author, an activist for self-recovery and alcohol addiction. I saw that interview you did with the
Times
about dealing with abuse as a child.” Her eyes well up, and I’m positive that if her tears spill, I may lose all composure.

“It’s nothing, really.” I shrug, loving her being proud of me, but feeling guilty for what it caused her. “I never expected any of this; you have to know that. I didn’t mean for you to be embarrassed publicly by me writing that book.” I’ve told her this so many times, and she always has the same positive response.

“Don’t worry about it.” She smiles up at me. “It wasn’t so bad, and you know, you’ve helped a lot of people and a lot of people love your books. Me included.” Tessa flushes, and I do the same.

“This should be
our
wedding,” I blurt.

Her feet stop moving, and some of the glow disappears from her beautiful skin. “Hardin.” She glares at me.

“Theresa,” I tease. I’m not joking, and she knows it. “I thought that last page was going to change your mind. I really did.”

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” the bride’s sister says through the microphone. That woman is annoying as hell. She stands on the stage in the center of the room, but I can barely see her over the table in front of her, she’s just that short.

“I have to get ready for my speech,” I groan, swiping my hand through my hair.

“You’re making a speech?” Tessa follows me to the designated table for the wedding party. She must have forgotten about the doctor, and I can’t say that I mind that one bit. I love it, really.

“Yeah, I’m the best man, remember?”

“I know.” She gently shoves my shoulder, and I reach for her wrist. I planned to pull it to my mouth to press a kiss against the bare skin there, but I’m thrown off by a small black circle tattooed there.

“What the fuck is this?” I bring her wrist closer to my face.

“I lost a bet on my twenty-first birthday.” She laughs.

“You actually got a smiley-face tattoo? What the hell.” I can’t help the laughter falling from my mouth. The tiny smiling face is so ridiculous, and so poorly done, that it’s funny. I do wish, though, that I could have been there to see it done, and for her birthday.

“Sure did.” She nods proudly, running her index finger over the ink.

“Do you have any more?” I hope that she doesn’t.

“No way. Just this one.”

“Hardin!” the short woman calls for me, and I carry out my intention of kissing Tessa’s wrist. She jerks her hand away, not out of disgust but out of shock, I hope, as I walk toward the stage.

Landon and his wife are sitting at the head of the table, and his arm is wrapped around her back, her hands resting over one of his. Ahh, newlyweds. I can’t wait to see them ready to rip each other’s head off this time next year.

Maybe they’ll be different, though.

I take the microphone from the ornery woman and clear my throat. “Hey.” My voice sounds weird as fuck, and I can tell by Landon’s face that he’s going to enjoy this. “I don’t like talking in front of a lot of people usually. Hell, I don’t even like being around people usually, so I’m going to make this quick,” I promise the roomful of wedding guests. “Most of you are probably drunk or bored to death anyway, so feel free to ignore this.”

“Get to the point.” Landon’s bride laughs, holding up a glass of champagne. Landon nods in agreement, and I flip them both off in front of everyone. Tessa, in the front row, laughs and covers her mouth. “See, I wrote this down, because I didn’t want to forget what to say.”

I pull a crinkled napkin from my pocket and unfold it. “When I first met Landon, I instantly hated him.” Everyone laughs as if I’m joking, but I’m not. I did hate him, but only because I hated myself.

“He had everything that I wanted in life: a family, a girlfriend, a plan for his future.” When I look at Landon, he is smiling, and his cheeks are slightly red. I’ll blame that on the champagne. “Anyway, throughout the years that I’ve known him, we’ve become friends, family even, and he has taught me a lot about being a man, especially in the last two years with the struggles these two have had to deal with.” I smile at Landon and his bride, not wanting to get too into the depressing shit.

“I’m going to end this shit now. Basically what I want to say is, I thank you, Landon, for being an honest man, and for giving me hell when I needed you to. I actually look up to you in a fucked-up way, and I want you to know that you deserve to be happy and be married to the love of your life, no matter how quickly you two put this together.”

The crowd laughs again.

“You won’t know how lucky you are to be able to spend your life with the other half of your soul until you have to spend your life without them.” I bring the microphone down and lay it on the table just as I catch a glimpse of silver rushing through the crowd, and I hurry down from the stage to follow after my girl as the crowd drinks to my toast.

When I finally catch up to Tessa, she’s pushing the women’s bathroom door open. She disappears inside, and I don’t bother to look around before following her inside. When I reach her, she’s leaning against the sink, her palms resting on both sides of the marble.

She looks up into the mirror, eyes red and cheeks stained with tears, and turns to face me when she realizes that I’ve followed her.

“You can’t just talk about us like that. About our souls.” She ends her sentence with a whimper.

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” She can’t seem to find an explanation.

“Because you know I’m right?” I egg her on.

“Because you can’t say those things publicly like that. You keep doing it in your interviews, too.” She rests her hands on her hips.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention.” I step toward her.

Her nostrils flare, and for a moment I think she may actually stomp her foot.

“You piss me off.” Her voice softens, and she can’t deny the way she’s looking at me right now.

“Sure, sure.” I reach my arms out to her. “Come here,” I beg.

She obliges, walking into my outspread arms, and I hug her. Having her in my arms this way is more satisfying than any sex we could have. Just having her here, still drawn to me in the way that only the two of us understand, makes me the happiest son of a bitch around.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I say into her hair.

Her hands move to my shoulders, tugging the heavy jacket off me, and the expensive cloth falls to the floor.

“You’re sure?” I hold her beautiful face between my hands.

“I’m always sure with you.” I can feel the vulnerability and sweet relief as she presses her mouth to mine, lips trembling, breathing slow and deep.

Too soon, I pull away, and she drops her hands from my belt. “I’m just blocking the door.” I’m thankful for the chairs placed in women’s gathering places, and I pull two of them over to the door to keep anyone from coming inside.

“We’re really doing this?” Tessa asks as I lean down to lift her floor-length dress from the floor, up to her waist.

“Are you surprised?” I laugh into another kiss. Her mouth tastes like home to me, and I’ve been away from home, living in Chicago alone, for so long. Only small doses of her have been granted to me over the last few years.

“No.” Her fingers hurry to unzip my pants, and I gasp when she grasps my cock through my boxers.

It’s been a long time, too damn long.

“When’s the last time you . . .”

“With you in Chicago.” I urge her, “You?”

“Same.”

I pull back, looking into her eyes to find only truth behind her claim. “Really?” I ask, even though I can read her face like an open book.

“Yes, no one else. Only you.” She tugs my boxers down, and I lift her onto the counter, spreading her thick thighs with both hands.

“Fuck.” I bite down on my tongue when I discover she’s not wearing any panties.

She looks down, flustered. “There was a line with my dress.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” I’m hard as a fucking rock when she strokes me, both of her small hands moving up and down the length of me.

“We have to hurry,” she whines, desperate and soaking when I slide my finger over her clit. She groans; her head falls back onto the mirror, and her legs open farther.

“Condom?” I ask, barely able to think straight.

When she doesn’t respond, I push a finger inside her and caress her tongue with mine. Each kiss holds a confession:
I love you,
I try to show her;
I need you,
I suck at her bottom lip;
I can’t lose you again,
I push my cock inside her and moan with her as I fill her.

“So fucking tight,” I whimper. I am going to embarrass myself by coming within seconds, but this isn’t about sexual satisfaction for me, this is about showing her and me that we are truly inevitable. We are a force that can’t be reckoned with, no matter how hard we try—or anyone else tries—to fight it.

We belong together, and it’s truly undeniable.

“Oh God.” She claws at my back as I pull out of her warmth and enter her again, this time completely. She stretches around me, her body adjusting to fit me the way it always has.

“Hardin,” Tessa moans into my neck. I can feel her teeth pressing against my skin as my release climbs up my spine. I move one hand to her back, pulling her closer to me, lifting her slightly to reach a deeper angle inside her, and use my other hand to grope her full tits. She spills out of her dress, and I suck at the flesh there, tugging at her hard nipples with my lips, groaning and moaning her name as I come inside her.

My name comes in quick pants as I rub at her clit while driving into her. The sound of her thighs smacking against me and the counter is hot enough to have me getting hard again. It’s just been so fucking long, and she’s the most perfect fit for me. Her body claims mine, completely fucking owning me.

“I love you,” she says as she comes, her voice strained as she loses herself with me, allowing me to find her. Tessa’s orgasm seems endless, and I can’t help but fucking love it. Her body goes limp, leaning into me, and she rests her head on my chest as she catches her breath.

“I heard that, you know?” I press a kiss to her sweat-beaded forehead, and she smiles a delirious smile.

“We’re a mess,” she whispers, lifting her head up so that her eyes can meet mine.

“An undeniable, beautifully chaotic mess.”

“Don’t go all writer on me,” she teases, out of breath.

“Don’t pull away from me. I know you’ve been missing me, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She wraps her arms around my waist, and I push her hair back off her forehead.

I’m happy, I’m fucking ecstatic that she is here with me, after all this time, in my arms, smiling and teasing and laughing, and I’m not going to ruin this. I’ve learned the hard way that life doesn’t have to be a battle. Sometimes you’re given a shitty hand from the get-go, and sometimes you fuck up along the way, but there is always hope.

Other books

Crustaceans by Andrew Cowan
First Kill by Lawrence Kelter
The Crisscross Crime by Franklin W. Dixon
The Gossamer Plain by Reid, Thomas M.
Night by Elie Wiesel
Beyond Sunrise by Candice Proctor
Harry and the Transsexuals by Marlene Sexton