Scarred Beautiful (36 page)

“Wow,” he says, appraising me like I’m on display, “you look fantastic.”

“Thanks,” I reply with little enthusiasm, as he presses a kiss to my cheek. His lips look soft but when they touch my skin they feel rough like sandpaper…because they’re the wrong lips.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, and I say yes because I need something so take the ache in my chest away…and I need something strong.

“I’ll have a vodka and cranberry, heavy on the vodka.”

He eyes me curiously before flagging the bartender so he can order my drink. While he’s distracted, I sneak a glance at my cell phone just in case I have any missed calls and when there aren’t any, the reality I’ve been struggling to face all day comes crashing down on me.

“Here you go.” Ryan hands me my drink and I immediately gulp half of it down, a welcome burn hitting the back of my throat.

“Whoa. Take it easy there, darlin’,” he says, but I ignore him and drain the rest of the glass.

“Can you get me one more, please?” I ask, smiling and batting my eyelashes. It’s always worked for me in the past and I need it to work now more than ever.

“Sure, Fran. But I think you need to slow down. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be face down in no time.”

Exactly.

Ryan finds us a table by the terrace, and of course, he has to pick the same table Matt and I were sitting at that first night in the bar, which calls for another rather large sip of my drink.

“So what did you think of the conference?” he asks, and I hear the words come out of his mouth yet they sound fuzzy. There’s warmth brewing in my belly as the alcohol kicks in and everything starts to look a little brighter. It’s a temporary fix but I’ll take it.

“It was…interesting at times, but I was a bit bored if I’m honest.” I smile, a happy alcohol-induced smile, and he grins back at me. He really does have a nice smile and I bet those lips could help me forget all about dimples, clowns, and tight-asses, both in the literal and figurative sense.

The music gets louder and Ryan rounds the table. “Let’s dance, beautiful.”

If I hear that word one more fucking time, I might scream.

“Oh…sure,” I reply, and as I stand up, the heel of my sandal catches on a loop in the carpet and I land in Ryan’s arms. “Sorry.” I’m trying to be serious but instead I start laughing.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind,” he says, brushing a piece of hair away from my face. “Let’s go.”

He puts his arms around my waist and I barely manage to reach around his neck because of our height difference. I end up with my head on his chest, breathing in the scent of heavy cologne that’s overpowering my senses. My eyes drift closed and I pretend that he’s who I desperately want him to be—my favorite combination of tight-ass and kind-hearted soul…and that he loves me.

I had one stop to make before I headed back to the hotel. There’s something I needed to do to show Fran how serious I am about her and how much she means to me.

I’m driving like a freaking lunatic and I’ll be lucky if I make it back to the hotel in one piece. It’s been twelve hours since I’ve seen my sunshine, and yes, I’ve been counting every damn one of them.

There’s so much I need to say to her. First, I need to apologize for walking out, but I’m hopeful that once she hears what I have to say, once she knows how I feel, she’ll forgive me and realize I’m not an asshole of epic proportions. I’m scared to death of what comes next, after the words leave my mouth, but I’m willing to take the risk…because she’s worth it.

I’ve never been a big believer in fate or things that are meant to be. That kind of shit gets stripped from you when you watch the people you cherish most in the world die so young and the only question you can ask is, “Why?” But I’ll admit now that everything I knew to be true, all my theories about life have been tested, jammed in my face so I have no choice but to look. Even as I think about it, I have to shake my head at the craziness of it all. Brad finding Gabby, Fran being Gabby’s best friend, Fran having the necklace.

But whatever the reason, whatever brought us together, I’m thankful and I’m not going to waste another minute wondering why or how because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is what I do next.

By the time I finally do reach the hotel, my nerves are shot and I break out into a full-blown sweat. The back of my neck is drenched and I use my palm to wipe the moisture away as I stumble onto the elevator and press the button for Fran’s floor. My mind is running through various scenarios of how this could all play out—and there I go again, analyzing every detail, trying to determine the end result. But this isn’t a building site I’m evaluating, nor is it a blueprint that I can finely tune…this is the real deal. This involves people and feelings and things that are completely out of my control—and that terrifies me.

The car jolts to a stop when it reaches the twenty-third floor and the accompanying ding sounds loudly in my ears. I exhale a breath, trying to steady myself as I walk out toward the door to Fran’s hotel room. After flexing my fingers a couple of times and letting out one more breath, I rap on the door. When there’s no answer on the first try, I knock again and wait. After five minutes I figure she’s not in there unless she’s sleeping, and I doubt she’s sleeping at nine o’clock. I race through all the possibilities of where she might be, and given she doesn’t have a vehicle, assume she’s either in the restaurant or the bar.

The bar is packed but I spot Caleb and Peyton at a table in the front corner and figure Peyton will know where to find Fran. I’m on my way over when I’m stopped dead in my tracks. I blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not seeing things. Fran is dancing with what looks like that guy from the club, her head snuggled into his shirt, his arms wrapped around her waist. My teeth grind together and anger burns my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Without thinking, I march over to them, trying to control the rage warring inside of me.

“Fran?”

She turns her head and when I notice the flush on her cheeks and the giddy smile on her lips, I practically lose my shit.

“What the fuck, Fran?”

“Hey, what’s the problem?” the guy says, and I can’t even remember his fucking name.

I shoot him a warning glare. “Stay out of this, man.” I turn back to Fran. “I want to talk to you.” I grab her arm in an attempt to pull her away but he clamps his hand around her waist, and when I see Fran’s smile disappear, I’ve had enough.

“Take your fucking hands off of her,” I bite out, not letting go of her arm.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spits, and while I haven’t punched anyone since I was in sixth grade, he’s making me want to take a swing at him and relive my childhood.

“If you don’t take your fucking hands off of her, you’re going to find out,” I bark, and that’s when I hear Caleb’s voice behind me.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He lays a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to get me to back off, but I’m not going anywhere without Fran. I try a different tactic.

“Fran, I just want to talk to you. Can you give me a few minutes?”

She puts her hand on Ryan’s arm and a flash of red clouds my vision. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

“Sure, Fran,” he complies, lucky for him because I had the sudden urge to pretend I was in middle school again.

With a quick glance back to Caleb and a thank you for backing me up, I pull Fran behind me but she bats my hand away, serving to irritate me further.

“I can walk,” she says stubbornly, and when we reach the hall, I turn around to find she’s no longer following me. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, a scowl lining her pretty mouth.

“What do you want, Matt?” Her speech is slurred while her posture is rigid, but I can see right through her. I notice the slight widening of her eyes, the pursing of her lips. She’s hurt and I don’t blame her. I walked out on her without as much as a word after we made love…because that’s what we did.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re an
asshole
,” she sneers, refusing to move which only infuriates me more.

“Fran. You’ve got two choices. You can either come with me to my room, or I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of here. You choose.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” She glares at me, and I cock a brow, my lips twitching at her words.

“Oh, Fran,” I say, shaking my head, “haven’t you learned anything by now?” I stalk over to her and lift her up under her knees, throwing her over my shoulder.

“Put me the hell down!” she shouts, pounding hard on my back, making me grip her more firmly. “Put me down, Matt!”

After a few minutes, she finally stops protesting and I half wonder if she’s fallen asleep so I gently tug on her hair.

“Ow,” she snaps in response and it makes me chuckle.

“Don’t go to sleep on me. We have some things to talk about.” I say, determination filling every vein in my body.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” she replies with a feisty, high-pitched voice.

“Good, then you can listen, smartass.”

I don’t let her down until I’ve got her tucked away in my room, but she stays close to the door as if it’s some sort of safety net.

“Hurry up.” She folds her arms over her chest and taps her foot on the carpet, staring at her watch. “I need to get back to Ryan.”

I flinch at the sound of his name, taking a hard swallow so I can continue. “Ryan…I’m not even going to ask what you’re doing with him.”

“What do
you
care?” she hisses, making me take a couple of steps toward her, while still giving her space.

“I want to show you something. Let’s go sit down.” I offer her my hand but she waves me off, so I nod toward the sofa by the window.

“I’m fine standing and you’ve got ten minutes before I’m going back downstairs.” She leans against the door and all I can think about is how damn sexy she is when she’s stubborn.

“Fran, stow your feisty side for a second and come sit down with me, please.” I beg her with my eyes, hoping they’ll be more convincing than my words.

She throws her hands up in the air and I smile. “Fine, but the clock’s ticking.”

After she sits down, I turn to face her while she fights to avoid my gaze. “Listen, I’m sorry I left this morning. I know I acted like a jerk but I kind of freaked out and I didn’t know how to handle it.” Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the charm and hold it up, my heart thrashing loudly against my chest as I wait for her reaction.

It’s almost as if I can read her now, the pained look in her green eyes, the way she’s biting her lower lip, the cute little wrinkle in her forehead. I see the internal struggle playing out, the longing mixed with anger, and I’m just praying anger loses the tug of war.

She inches closer and squints to get a better look before she plucks it out of my hand. “Where did you get this?”

“My mom gave it to me…just before she died, and, when I saw you had one, too…well, I lost it.” I pause, wanting to get this right. “She told me that someday I’d find the other half of my heart, and I have found it, Fran, I’ve found you.”

My words seem to have little effect on her, the look on her face giving nothing away as she stares at it before thrusting it back at me. “So what, it still doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t mean anything? The hell it doesn’t.” I stand up and begin pacing the floor, struggling to find the right words. “It means something to me.
You
mean something to me. Jesus Christ, Fran, don’t you get it? I want to give you the fucking fairytale!” I scrape a hand through my hair, my feet wearing down the carpet. “My life, it’s never been a fairytale either, Fran, my mother and sister dying, my father walking out. But
you
, you blew into my life, like a strong gust of wind—actually, more like a fucking tornado—and now I don’t want to go back to the way I was before. I want who I am when I’m with you, who I became the day I met you!” My voice softens, the anger melting away. “You make me want, Fran. You brought me hope…but most of all…you brought me back to life.”

She doesn’t say anything. I can tell she’s trying to be resolute, but her eyes are filling with tears. I cover my head with my hands and try to rein in my emotions…and then I make a decision. I stalk toward her and lift her to her feet, crashing my lips to hers in desperation, removing the air between us, leaving her with no choice…but to hopefully accept me.