“I hate you,” she cried out as her entire body braced itself for battle.
“No, you don’t. You love me, and I love you,” he growled through gritted teeth, glowering back at her. He brought his hands up and cupped her cheeks. “Hit me again if you have to, doll. Just do it. Fucking hit me again and get it all out.”
She didn’t hesitate. She smacked him again, fury and confusion burning deep inside as angry tears spilled down her cheeks.
Pulling her by the waist off the table, he set her on her feet and crashed his lips over hers again. “Leave with me right now. Don’t do this. Don’t marry him,” he pleaded into her mouth, his words vibrating against her lips. Grabbing fistfuls of his sweatshirt, Emily’s eyes rolled back into her head as she sank into the familiarity of his kiss, his smell, and his touch. “We’ll tell him together. I told you I wouldn’t let you do it alone. Gina means nothing to me anymore. I shouldn’t have let her in, but for fuck’s sake, I didn’t do anything with her.”
Pain.
There it was again, sweeping as fresh as an open wound through her soul. It bled out with no sign of letting up. Whispering his sweet words of seduction while trying to veil the bitter taste of the ugly truth, he was trying to break her down into nothing but tiny particles of dust. Like a whip, the harsh reality of what he was trying to do cracked through her chest, disturbing her thoughts with its potency. Immediately, without conscious effort, the gates around the fortress of her shattered heart closed. The most important thing now was to protect the remaining pieces.
She shoved hard against his chest, effectively pushing him away. Looking down, scrambling to pull her panties back up, she couldn’t see the shock on his face. Without a backward glance, she headed toward the door. In a few quick strides, Gavin was at her side. Not intending to let her leave the room, he caught her by the arm and pulled her to a skidded stop.
Swiping tears away from her hooded eyes, she looked up at him.
With his soul crying out for her to believe him, his expression creased painfully. “I’ve never felt so heartbroken and so in love at the same time. If you would’ve told me the day we met that you were going to break my heart— and that days, months, or even years would pass, that I would still be hurting like this—it wouldn’t have stopped me from falling in love with you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “But I would’ve done one thing differently, and loving you any less isn’t one of them.” He slowly brought his knuckles up to her face, wiping the tears away from her beautiful confused eyes, his voice soft. “I wouldn’t have let her in. That’s the only thing I would’ve changed, Emily. I wouldn’t have fucking let her in.”
As her body trembled from head to toe, Emily stood there staring at him, but before she could speak a word, the door flung open.
Olivia poked her head inside. “Em, Joan is scouring the fucking restaurant for you right now,” she whispered, her tone urgent.
Sniffling, Emily tore her gaze from Gavin, her heart grating to shreds in the process. Her mind was no less confused than when she’d first stepped in there with him. Trying to calm herself down, she took a deep breath, smoothed her hands through her hair, and walked out of the room.
Gavin followed—his thoughts no less fucked-up either.
Emily looked to him as Olivia hastily handed her a tissue. “You have to leave, Gavin.”
Shocked by her words, confusion and anger clouded his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his head. “I’m in this wedding party, and I’m staying.”
She glared icicles at him. “You’re just trying to hurt me now.”
“You know what,” he said, swallowing tightly. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m trying to hurt you as much as you’re hurting me. The saddest part about this whole thing is that while I was in there begging you to stay, I didn’t fucking realize you were already gone. So, yeah, I’m staying, and I hope you fucking hurt through every second of it as much as I will. Deal with it.”
After her mouth snapped shut from hanging agape, Emily spun around in the direction of the bathroom.
“No!” Olivia called out, grabbing her by the arm. “You don’t have time. You have to get in there right now, Em.” She plucked the tissue from Emily’s hand, licked it, and started wiping off the streams of mascara that were blanketing her cheeks.
Watching her intently, Gavin smirked. “Don’t forget about the lipstick that’s smeared all over her.”
Emily shot him a look.
“I’m cool, right? There’s no lipstick left on me?” he asked, his smirk turning into a full-watted smile. “I love getting kissed by women who claim that they don’t love me—makes my dick hard as a motherfucker.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Olivia handed Emily her lipstick.
“Oh my God, Gavin, now you’re just being an asshole,” Emily spat, reaching for the lipstick. She quickly slid it across her lips.
“Mmm, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he chuckled, tossing his hand through his unruly black hair. “I have a feeling I’m going to break my own record tonight.” He went to walk away but turned back around. “And, if I recall correctly, I think I told you once not to bring any attention to those pretty little lips. Put the lipstick away or else I’ll drag you right back in that room and really change your fucking mind.” He slowly ran his tongue over his mouth while his eyes shimmered with insatiable lust.
Olivia raised a surprised brow as Emily’s mouth dropped open.
Heart broken into pieces, he turned in a leisurely pivot, tucked his hands in the pocket of his jeans, and sauntered into the party room. Scanning the modestly sized space filled with thirty or so people, it didn’t take him long to lock eyes with Dillon. Gavin grunted to himself as he walked over to the bar and ordered himself a much-needed shot of tequila and a bottle of beer. He threw a $100 tip to the bartender and turned around, only to find Dillon standing behind him.
Swallowing down the need to beat the shit out of him, Gavin couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Ah, and there he is—the lucky fucking groom.” He tossed that much-needed shot down his throat, and out of the corner of his eye, he watched Emily float into the room. “And there’s your beautiful bride,” he said, gesturing with his head in her direction.
With a suspicious look on his face, Dillon stared at him for a moment and then turned around, motioning Emily over to them. If Dillon couldn’t notice it—the way she nervously looked at them—Gavin sure as hell did. When she approached, Gavin popped the top off his beer, arched a perfect brow, and bit his lip, making sure she heard the luscious smacking noise as he pulled it through his teeth.
She glared at him.
“Are you alright?” Dillon probed. “You look upset.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice monotone, her eyes never leaving Gavin’s.
“Are you sure? You seem…off.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, she finally looked at Dillon. “Yes.”
After placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth, Dillon curled his arm around her waist and turned his attention to Gavin. “What’s the deal, man?” he asked, giving him a quick once over. “You never showed up to the church, and now you come to my rehearsal dinner looking like this?”
As Gavin watched Dillon circle his thumb against Emily’s waist, seething anger, sharp as razor blades, shredded at his stomach. He flicked his eyes up in her direction. “I’m having a problem with a woman right now,” Gavin answered evenly.
“And? That doesn’t garner you showing up here looking like that.” Dillon retorted.
With her pulse quickening, Emily could see the fire surging behind Gavin’s eyes. “Dillon,” she immediately interrupted, “does it really matter what he’s dressed in? Let’s go sit down, okay?”