Page 94 of Feels Like Love
“Cheers to your house being done.”
We clinked our glasses together, the chime sounding more like the signal you’d hear at the end of a boxing match. It was over. Done. I’d lost.
“Well,” she said after we’d finished our second glasses. “I guess I should tell Arlo the good news.”
“Guess so.” I poured myself another glass.
But she didn’t move to grab her phone. In fact, she pushed her empty glass closer to me on the coffee table. “Can I get a refill, please?”
I nodded and filled her glass. She took a sip, then said, “I’m just going to change. I did some shopping earlier, and I want your opinion.”
I grunted my acknowledgment and prepared myself. Fuck, this sucked. Here I was, nursing a broken heart, while she was planning a romantic getaway with another man. I’d always told myself a relationship with Wren was a bad idea because Liam would kill me, but now I knew the truth. Having to live without Wren was a million times worse.
I’d gladly die if it meant even a moment in her arms.
But I’d missed my chance.
She was moving forward with Arlo, and he was a good guy. Hell, even Liam liked him. I wanted to be happy for her, even if my heart was fucking shattered.
I switched to whiskey, needing something stronger. I was pouring myself a glass when Wren returned to the living room in a flowy lace nightgown that hit about mid-thigh. My mouth went dry, and I set the glass down on the counter with more force than necessary.
Was she trying to kill me?
“What do you think?” She spun around, the material floating about her legs. Giving me a glimpse of her ass.
“What’s that?” I asked in a strangled voice. I’d been expecting her to show me a dress, not…this.
“A nightgown. I figured if we’re sharing a room, I should wear something sexy to bed, right?”
What kind of hell is this?I didn’t want to agree or disagree. I didn’t want to think about her in another man’s bed ever, but I settled on, “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, smoothing her hands down her stomach. “I just have one more I want to show you. You know, since we’ll be gone two nights.”
Was she trying to rub it in? Or did she really have no idea how I felt about her?
How could she, though? I’d always stuck to the script—herscript. I was her dating coach. This was nothing more.
As soon as she left the room, I downed the glass of whiskey and poured another. Downing it too. Then she returned, and I nearly choked on my own damn tongue.
White lace. A tiny tank top that dipped low on her breasts and revealed a sliver of her stomach. She turned around. Shorts. Shorts that could barely be called that since the bottoms of her ass cheeks were on display.
She glanced over her shoulder, blond curls cascading down her back. “Is it too much?”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even think. It was as if the sight of her had scrambled my thoughts.This is my wifepopped into my head. Along with the wordsMine. Mine. Mine,whichkept pounding through my brain on repeat.
She walked across the living room to me, standing on her toes. “Bennett? Are you okay?”
I nodded, forcing myself to be happy for her. Or at least pretend to be. She wasn’t mine, and she never would be.
“Of course. You look great.”
“And you’re really okay with me going away with Arlo?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I snapped.
The way she looked at me, it was as if she was expecting something. What exactly, I wasn’t sure. Then her face fell, but she quickly masked it. I told myself I’d imagined it—it was a by-product of all the alcohol and regret currently swirling through my system.
She placed her hands on my chest. “I know you said I’d graduated, but I never had a final exam.”
