Black Swan Affair (10 page)

MaryLou sighs audibly but drops my hand. I can tell the second she’s gone because the energy left in this small, enclosed space just charged up a thousand kilowatts. My armpits start to sweat.

“One minute fifty seconds,” I announce, crossing my arms, hoping to keep Killian from seeing how he’s affecting me. Damn him to hell. Five beats in his presence and all the progress I’ve made is evaporating like dew. How can one person have this much power, this much control over me?

“I must have missed your call on Monday.” He says it with a quirk to his mouth, only his nonchalance is meant to hide the hurt. It’s plain as day in his dark eyes. And just like that, I feel contrite and small. I hate that he can make me feel that way with a simple statement or a look. I hate that he still has this effect on me. I hate that Killian is my puppeteer, holding strings to parts of me I can’t figure out how to slash…no matter how hard I try.

“My phone’s broke.” His quirk falters. My repentance deepens. “Is that all you wanted? A little ego boost?” My question is full of vinegar. It’s pungent on my taste buds.

He ignores it. And with the next intentional stab of his words, makes me feel even worse than I already do. As if that’s possible. “I was looking forward to my chocolate. I think this is the first year I’ve gone without one of your infamous concoctions.”

My heavy head drops. I breathe deeply. Run my tongue over my teeth while taking in the dark, spongy speckled floor.

Even when we were away from each other, I made Killian something for his birthday every year. I never failed. It started out as a runny mud pie when I was four. And by mud, I don’t mean fancy chocolate pudding with crumbled cookies on top.

I remember the light in his eyes and his throaty laugh as he pretended to eat it. Pretty soon, it was gone and he’d convinced me he’d swallowed every bite, but he managed to drop them all on the ground behind him. He may have just been placating a four-year-old, but I did the same thing the following year. And then each year after until I learned how to bake. Then I made him real treats. They were always chocolate. His favorite.

Last year, I spent hours perfecting a molten chocolate cake dusted in a mixture of powdered sugar, cinnamon, and fresh nutmeg shavings. I delivered it to his office myself. I knew it was wrong then. He was married. No longer available. No longer mine. I should have stopped a tradition that had become just ours because it wasn’t just us anymore. There was no “us” anymore, period.

That’s why I knew I couldn’t do it again this year.

Cutting the cord sucks ass.

“Mavs, please. I—” His head falls to the wall with a dull thud. His gaze floats to the ceiling then back to me. He looks as sad and lost as I feel most days. “I miss you. So much.”

I feel so confused. I’ve replayed every moment, wondering where we went wrong. What did I do? What didn’t I do? Why wasn’t I enough? I gave him everything and he gave me away.

Be strong, Mavs
. Be brave. Be anything but putty in his oh-so-skillful hands. I think of Kael. If he’s wondering where I am. If he knows I’m back here—alone—with his brother.

“You’re down to less than a minute now.” I have to get the fuck out of here before I let us do something we shouldn’t. My lips haven’t been on Killian’s in over two and a half years. Since he announced his engagement. I physically ache for him right now. More than I ever have.

He straightens tall and takes a step toward me. I take one back, shaking my head. Inhaling deeply, he asks, “Can we find some time to get together? Just the two of us? I’d like to talk.”

Since he married Jillian, I try to limit my time with him alone.
Especially
alone. Neither of us seems to be able to keep our wants or thoughts from straying. I think we both know if we’re confined in any space by ourselves for any length of time, we will become adulterers on top of everything else. And that’s one hard line I just won’t cross.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” He edges toward me. I stay still this time. I loathe me right now.

“You know why, Killian.”

“You still love me,” he whispers. It’s hoarse and warm and inviting. And so fucking true. “I see it every time you look into my soul. No one has ever looked at me the way you do, Maverick.”

His eyes skate between mine and my lips, which I’ve now just wet. I feel a hand graze my hip and know it’s not a passerby. This hallway seems to be deserted at the worst possible time.

Then he bends down and runs his mouth over my jaw. It’s light. Barely a touch…the skip of a rock on top of the water. When I hear him inhale and moan, I almost turn my head and place my mouth on his, ending the torture we’ve both been living through. Jumping over a line I just said I refused to.

I swallow. Hard. It hurts forcing saliva past the twisted, confused ball of emotion sitting in the middle of my throat.

Lord, if you’re listening…please give me strength. I need Your help.

“I belong to Kael now,” I manage to push out on a rush of nearly nonexistent air.

He leans back. Too far, yet not far enough. I still don’t move when the heat of his anger drizzles over my forehead and down my cheeks. “You belong to me. You’ve always belonged to me.”

Then why did you marry someone else?
I want to scream.
Why did you treat me like I didn’t even matter? Why did you break every single promise you ever made? Why won’t you just tell me why the fuck you did it?

How can you love someone so much yet hate them with equal passion at the same time? He is such an insensitive, conceited, hypocritical bastard. He can’t have me but no one else can either? Well, fuck that. Fuck
him
.

“This says different,” I smart back, shoving the finger between us that holds my vow of monogamy and forever to his brother. I grab his hand and point to the titanium band circling his fourth finger. “And so does this.”

“This doesn’t lie,” he retorts hotly, flattening his other palm between my breasts. Right over my heart, which thumps erratically beneath the warmth of his hand.

What kind of twisted fucking head games is he playing? Has been playing for years now? I’m sick of it. I’m sick of him. It’s like he makes a sport of keeping me tied to him.
How long can I dangle her before she breaks
? Little does he know his selfish actions are helping him to eradicate himself from my heart. I hope the door bruises his ass on the way out.

I bring my arm up from beneath us in one swift move and knock his away. “Time’s up.” I spin, practically sprint away, mentally trying to saw through that knot he has embedded deep within me. I wonder when it will get easier. If ever.

I
don’t head back
to the booth. I keep my eyes focused ahead, not even glancing in that direction, afraid my flushed face will give me away.

Peppy’s is now packed. Anticipation for the night ahead hums in the air. I weave and shoulder through the crowd. Apologize as I knock people out of the way, heading straight for the bar. I realize as I wait to be noticed that Paulie has started his set. Damn. That means Kael and Larry will be back at the booth, waiting for me.

My ribs heave. My mind spins. My heart is thumping against my breastbone so damn hard I think I may have internal bruising. I wish I had a switch so I could flip it all off. Every hurt. Every want. Every thing. I’m so lost in what just happened…what
almost
happened that I nearly don’t hear Cathy calling my name, asking what I need.

“Jose silver and Sprite. Make it a double. Short glass,” I bark over the commotion. Her brows pinch. She knows my usual order. This isn’t it. But, like a dutiful bartender, she goes off and does as I ask, no questions asked. A minute later, I have a cold glass enclosed in my hand and half the contents down my throat. I signal for another, wishing my buzz would be instant instead of twenty minutes from now.

I jump when a hand gently grips my neck a second before scruff tickles my cheek. My earlobe is then between the gentle bite of teeth. “What’s wrong, Swan?”

“Nothing,” I rasp back just as Cathy sets another clear-tinged drink in front of me. She scoots her attention briefly to Kael before moving along to the next customer.

“Really? Why the switch to the hard stuff?”

“I—” I freeze. I don’t want to lie to Kael. That’s no way to start off a marriage. But I don’t want him to know I was just hobnobbing with Killian in the dark in the back of the bar if he doesn’t already know. That I almost kissed him. That I’m still thinking about kissing him. And I can’t tell by his tone if he does or not.

“It’s MaryLou, isn’t it?”

The lids on my eyes fall shut. Out of relief or guilt, I can’t be sure.
You’re sure
, my inner self quietly chastises. He’s giving me an out, so what do I do? Do I do the right thing? Oh fuck, no. That would be too hard. Right now, I just can’t deal with any more hard.

Black-hearted sinner. That’s me.

So I take the gift he’s handing me.

I take it and sprint.

“Yes.” I’m not sure he hears me, but he does feel the nod of my head.

Kael takes the glass I’m currently clinging to like a buoy. Pries my fingers off. Sets it down before gently spinning me around. Patrons are elbowing on either side to get their next mind-numbing fix, but Kael shelters me. Protects me. As always. When he takes my face in his hands and tips up, the movement causes a stray drop of water to slip from the corner of my eye. He wipes it away with his thumb.

“Baby, don’t cry.”

“I’m not. I’m just…”

“Hurt?” he prods.

“Yeah.” It’s not
technically
a lie. I
was
hurt. I
am
hurting. Just not for the reasons he thinks.

“This is a big step for them. I’m sure she just doesn’t want to get her hopes up and then have everyone know about it if it doesn’t happen for them again.”

“I know,” I manage to muster.

I should be thinking about MaryLou. About Kael. About anything except what I am. Instead, I want to look around. See if Killian is still here. Watching. Waiting for another opportunity to strike.

In some ways, I wish Kael did know he was here. Maybe then Killian would just leave us in peace. Maybe I should just tell him? Be courageous. Do the right thing. I stare into his guileless, loving eyes and I know I need to vomit it all. Tell him everything. I want to
deserve
the way he’s looking at me right now. I open my mouth to do just that when J Ton—aka Johnny Littleton—announces Kael’s name.

The crowd goes wild. And I mean, on their feet, clapping, screaming, cheering wild. The place is nuts. The grin that comes over my husband’s face is absolutely boyish. Glorious. I fall into it, forgetting everything that happened just minutes ago.

“What’s going on?” I laugh as he drags us through the crowd toward the tiny half-moon stage. When we reach the front, someone sets a chair right smack in the meager open space. Kael gestures for me to sit then proceeds to lean down and kiss me hard, slow, and very, very thoroughly. The catcalls spur him on and he comes back for one more. I’m panting. Damp, in all places one can be damp.

He hops up on the stage where J Ton has placed a stool. He hands Kael a guitar. Kael’s mischievous eyes snap to mine the second he’s taken a seat and has perched the guitar just so in his lap.

This is exactly what he did the night he asked me to marry him. Not only can he play the guitar like a pro, he has a voice like melted butter. He got up on that stage and turned me into a blubbering mess when he sang Lenny Kravitz’s “I’ll Be Waiting.”

If you’ve ever listened to that song, it starts out with him singing about how he knows someone else broke the girl’s heart. Says he’ll give her time. Says he’s the one who truly loves her. How he’ll be waiting until she’s ready. Kael never took his eyes from me the entire time. Every perfectly tuned note, every haunting word was sung just for me. When he was done, he hopped down, dropped to both knees in front of me, dug a three-carat diamond from his pocket, and nearly wept himself as he bared his soul to me.

“I know it’s soon, Swan. But at the same time, it isn’t. I’ve been by your side our entire lives. No one knows you better than me. You breathe, so do I. You hurt, I ache. When you smile…fuck, Mavs, it’s hard to see through the stars blinding me. Every time you laugh, I fall a little more in love with you, if that’s possible. I want to be with you until we’re gray and wrinkled and don’t give a shit if what we say offends people. No one will love you like I do, Swan. Your soul belongs to me. Everything you need is here, staring right at you. If you’re not ready, I understand. But know that I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait as long as it takes. As long as you need. But if you are…then put me out of my misery and be my wife. I promise you won’t regret a single second of our life together.”

I laughed and sobbed through his heartfelt, heart-melting proposal. How could a girl say no to that? No one in their right mind would. Every single woman and half the men in the bar that night were misty-eyed. I couldn’t have the man I really wanted and here was a man who genuinely wanted me. Loved me so much I could actually feel the warmth of it surround me. I was wrapped up in the moment; I said yes.