All for This
Page 1
1
SHE’S WEARING his ring.
Hanna’s hand shakes as she presses it to her lips and her engagement ring flashes at me. She’s in a thin pink robe, her hair falling in wild waves around her shoulders. Max stiffens next to her, bare-chested and protective. It doesn’t take a genius to know what they were doing before they answered the door.
The sucker punch to the gut is too much, and I take a step back despite myself.
I shouldn’t have come here. LA is too insane right now and I need to lie low until this madness settles. But I never should have come to Hanna’s apartment.
It was instinct. As soon as I talked to Vivian and made arrangements for Collin, I came here.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Hanna whispers.
“I’m not.” But I can’t decide if she wishes I were.
Our eyes are locked. I need to break free and leave—go back to Asher’s and hide from the world while I wait for Collin to arrive.
Max turns to the living room, where he clicks on the TV, and while I’m trapped in the torment in her eyes, the news anchor tells the world that I’m alive and well.
Hanna finally releases me from her gaze and whips around to take in the TV, as if it might provide her with better evidence than my standing in her doorway.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The lie scrapes across my heart as it passes my lips. I wanted so much more than to make sure she was okay. There’s something about discovering that you should be dead that changes the way you look at the world. Changes what you’re willing to risk.
“I’m okay,” she says, her gaze still on the TV screen.
Suddenly, she throws her hand over her mouth and runs to the bathroom, and the sounds of her retching carry down the hallway.
Max throws me a look I don’t understand. Maybe he too needs confirmation that I’m really at their door. Then he follows her.
When they return, his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and she’s leaning against his chest. I want to rip him off her and take her into my arms, where she belongs, but she sinks into his embrace as if she needs him to stand. Another reminder that I don’t belong here.
Hanna might be the best thing that ever happened to me, but maybe for her, that’s Max. Hell, Asher told me Max was no money-grubbing ass**le after Hanna for the wrong reasons. And I already suspected that, didn’t I? It was just further evidence.
And here he is—fucking Good Guy of the Year—holding her up when her lover stands at the door.
My hardened heart threatens to crumble.
Fuck. “I’ll be at Asher’s if you need me.” I nod and back away as Max stares at me, his face a mask, his eyes unreadable.
I rush down the stairs before my heart can keep me where my brain knows I don’t belong.
HE’S GONE. He came long enough to turn my world upside down and then disappeared.
Max kisses the top of my head, and I’m so conflicted by the intimacy of that single gesture. I want to curl into his sweetness, let him protect me the way I know he wants to. And at the same time, I want to push him away and tell him that he can’t touch me like that anymore. Because Nate is alive.
“What can I do?” Max asks.
I shake my head and make my way to the bedroom to get dressed. “I need to go after him.” I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and slide into my tennis shoes. When I reach the front door, I sense Max behind me and stop. “Will you be here when I get back?”
He’s silent for a beat, and for the space of a breath, I wish we could go back to the simplicity of the moments before Nate knocked on my door. The wish disintegrates the moment I think it. Even the part of me that loves Max and craves a life with him wants Nate alive.
“Do you want me to be?” Max asks.
“Is it that simple?”
“For me it is. If you want me to be here, I will be.”
I meet his eyes for the first time since our world imploded. “It’s not that simple for me.”
“I love you,” he whispers. He hands me my car keys then reaches around me and opens the door. “Be careful.”
I pocket my keys to appease him, but I have no intention of taking my car. I walk through the darkness, taking the path along the river and hoping the cadence of my steps might calm the riot in my heart.
I find Nate standing on the dock near Asher’s house, his hands wrapped around the railing as he looks across the water. I knew he’d be here. Did he know I’d come after him?
The wind runs its fingers through his tousled hair, and I’m so overwhelmed with the need to touch him—to make sure he’s real and alive and healthy. I shove my hands into my pockets so they can’t betray me.
“You lied to me.”
He nods without turning to me. “Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” His deep murmur floats on the breeze and wraps me in its embrace. Right now, Nate’s voice is the most beautiful sound in the world, the only thing I want to hear.
“I understand why you would lie to me about taking my virginity if you thought I was going to marry Max,” I say, standing next to him at the rail. “I don’t agree with the decision, but I understand. But you lied to me about what was between us—about what you’d been willing to have with me. Why?”
“You’d made your choice,” he whispers, his knuckles tightening around the wood.
I shake my head. “Not when I came to LA. I’d called it off with Max, and you made me believe that you’d never changed your mind about us.”
SHE’S WEARING his ring.
Hanna’s hand shakes as she presses it to her lips and her engagement ring flashes at me. She’s in a thin pink robe, her hair falling in wild waves around her shoulders. Max stiffens next to her, bare-chested and protective. It doesn’t take a genius to know what they were doing before they answered the door.
The sucker punch to the gut is too much, and I take a step back despite myself.
I shouldn’t have come here. LA is too insane right now and I need to lie low until this madness settles. But I never should have come to Hanna’s apartment.
It was instinct. As soon as I talked to Vivian and made arrangements for Collin, I came here.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Hanna whispers.
“I’m not.” But I can’t decide if she wishes I were.
Our eyes are locked. I need to break free and leave—go back to Asher’s and hide from the world while I wait for Collin to arrive.
Max turns to the living room, where he clicks on the TV, and while I’m trapped in the torment in her eyes, the news anchor tells the world that I’m alive and well.
Hanna finally releases me from her gaze and whips around to take in the TV, as if it might provide her with better evidence than my standing in her doorway.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The lie scrapes across my heart as it passes my lips. I wanted so much more than to make sure she was okay. There’s something about discovering that you should be dead that changes the way you look at the world. Changes what you’re willing to risk.
“I’m okay,” she says, her gaze still on the TV screen.
Suddenly, she throws her hand over her mouth and runs to the bathroom, and the sounds of her retching carry down the hallway.
Max throws me a look I don’t understand. Maybe he too needs confirmation that I’m really at their door. Then he follows her.
When they return, his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and she’s leaning against his chest. I want to rip him off her and take her into my arms, where she belongs, but she sinks into his embrace as if she needs him to stand. Another reminder that I don’t belong here.
Hanna might be the best thing that ever happened to me, but maybe for her, that’s Max. Hell, Asher told me Max was no money-grubbing ass**le after Hanna for the wrong reasons. And I already suspected that, didn’t I? It was just further evidence.
And here he is—fucking Good Guy of the Year—holding her up when her lover stands at the door.
My hardened heart threatens to crumble.
Fuck. “I’ll be at Asher’s if you need me.” I nod and back away as Max stares at me, his face a mask, his eyes unreadable.
I rush down the stairs before my heart can keep me where my brain knows I don’t belong.
HE’S GONE. He came long enough to turn my world upside down and then disappeared.
Max kisses the top of my head, and I’m so conflicted by the intimacy of that single gesture. I want to curl into his sweetness, let him protect me the way I know he wants to. And at the same time, I want to push him away and tell him that he can’t touch me like that anymore. Because Nate is alive.
“What can I do?” Max asks.
I shake my head and make my way to the bedroom to get dressed. “I need to go after him.” I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and slide into my tennis shoes. When I reach the front door, I sense Max behind me and stop. “Will you be here when I get back?”
He’s silent for a beat, and for the space of a breath, I wish we could go back to the simplicity of the moments before Nate knocked on my door. The wish disintegrates the moment I think it. Even the part of me that loves Max and craves a life with him wants Nate alive.
“Do you want me to be?” Max asks.
“Is it that simple?”
“For me it is. If you want me to be here, I will be.”
I meet his eyes for the first time since our world imploded. “It’s not that simple for me.”
“I love you,” he whispers. He hands me my car keys then reaches around me and opens the door. “Be careful.”
I pocket my keys to appease him, but I have no intention of taking my car. I walk through the darkness, taking the path along the river and hoping the cadence of my steps might calm the riot in my heart.
I find Nate standing on the dock near Asher’s house, his hands wrapped around the railing as he looks across the water. I knew he’d be here. Did he know I’d come after him?
The wind runs its fingers through his tousled hair, and I’m so overwhelmed with the need to touch him—to make sure he’s real and alive and healthy. I shove my hands into my pockets so they can’t betray me.
“You lied to me.”
He nods without turning to me. “Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” His deep murmur floats on the breeze and wraps me in its embrace. Right now, Nate’s voice is the most beautiful sound in the world, the only thing I want to hear.
“I understand why you would lie to me about taking my virginity if you thought I was going to marry Max,” I say, standing next to him at the rail. “I don’t agree with the decision, but I understand. But you lied to me about what was between us—about what you’d been willing to have with me. Why?”
“You’d made your choice,” he whispers, his knuckles tightening around the wood.
I shake my head. “Not when I came to LA. I’d called it off with Max, and you made me believe that you’d never changed your mind about us.”
