Page 50 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“It’s silly, and it won’t go anywhere,” Maeve tries to reassure me. “Dad’s on it and has informed the partners at the law firm. I have a feeling they will be talking to Duncan very soon.”

Good. I hope he loses his job and has to move back in with his mother. She can wash his fucking underwear.

“I’m sure he’s going to call you again,” Maeve says. “Don’t answer. Don’t interact. If you do, for some ungodly reason, say you can’t speak without your attorney present. Be on the safe side. Dad thinks he’s bluffing, but I had an eye on him and Idon’t think so. He looked angry. Determined. I have a feeling this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

I rub my temple as I slide into the couch. “Thanks.”

Maeve and I say our goodbyes and as soon as I hang up the phone, I feel my head starting to pound. But not with a normal headache. No, this is my anger. I’m boiling from the inside out. I know I was worked up earlier, but this is a whole new feeling.

This is rage.

Fucking Duncan. I knew he’d pull some shit. But a lawsuit? The nerve. The audacity. The little dick syndrome of it all.

“Ahh!” I yell just as a clap of thunder hits outside. I watch a flash of lightning through the glass doors that leads to the patio area that faces the beach.

I need to yell. I need to scream. I need to let all of this anger out or it’s going to detonate inside me.

So I do what any midtwenties woman would do in my situation. I find the playlist aptly called “Female Rage,” blast it to full volume, and let myself out of the door and into the storm.

I don’t care about the rain. Or the lightening. In fact, I embrace them as I hold my arms out wide and start screaming about the smallest man who ever lived.

14

emmett

I’ve never beena science guy—history and math were more my speed—but I’ve always been fascinated by thunderstorms.

Something about the brewing clouds and the air changing. The distant rumbles of thunder that grow closer and closer. When that perfect strike of lightning hits. I’m watching it all from a lounge chair on the patio that thankfully has an adjustable canopy, allowing me to take this in while staying dry. It’s the perfect way to get lost in my thoughts.

And all of them circle around Stella Banks.

Something was off at the smash room today. I expected her to get in my car and be busting at the seams to go to the one place that’s been on her to-do list since we got here. But she wasn’t. She was quiet. Sullen. I could tell something was going on. She was fidgeting, which I’ve never seen her do. Biting her nails. Barely said two words on the drive over. I don’t gamble a lot, but I would’ve gone all-in that it had something to do with Duncan.

Then something snapped when we stepped inside the room. I had to step back to make sure she wasn’t going to hurt herself. She was absolutely feral. I thought at one point she was going to throw her shoulder out. I had a feeling she’d be a bit on theunhinged side ever since she told me about this idea, but the look in her eyes today was downright terrifying.

Stella was on a mission—to break every item in that room.

I even got in on the fun. Though I was smashing away my sexual frustration because Stella is getting too tempting for my sanity.

Our missions were very different.

I don’t know if hers was accomplished, but mine wasn’t. If anything, I’m even more frustrated now than I was before.

Is part of that physical? Of course. Stella is by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her blue eyes and perfect smile keep me up at night. Her body, no matter what she wears, is downright sinful. And the feel of her skin the few times I’ve made contact? I had to force myself to pull away.

If it were just physical, I could push my feelings aside. But it’s becoming more and more clear that this is more than that. These are feelings I’m not comfortable with. Ones I’ve never had before. And they were confirmed in the smash room today.

When I was watching her, I wanted to take away every ounce of pain I could see in her eyes. I wanted to keep putting bottles in front of her to break just so she could get rid of all the anger and resentment she had inside. I wanted to hold her and let her cry, because I could tell she was a ticking time bomb of emotion. I want to take away every ounce of hurt and pain because I don’t want her to feel like that ever again.

I have no prior experience in this area, but I’m pretty sure friends don’t have these feelings about each other. Some? Maybe. But all together and combined with the overwhelming feeling of rage and jealousy on my part every time I think of her with Duncan? Or the lust I feel when I see her wearing her bikini on the beach? Or how I have to bite the inside of my cheek when she throws her head back and laughs, because all I want to do is plant my lips on her neck?

Yeah…those aren’t friendly feelings.

Those are feelings that clearly say I’m fucked.

I’m just about to go inside because thinking about Stella means I need my third shower of the day, until I hear music blasting from next door.

And then a voice that’s screaming…singing? No. Definitely screaming.

---