I sat at the kitchen table alone, with the company of a beer and the wedding invitation. I kept looking toward the hallway, thinking about Bella. Not that I’d encourage someone to drink too much, but at least this time, it helped her loosen up enough to tell me about her boyfriend. Well, her ex-boyfriend. Even though she was still hung up on the guy. And why not? Shit, she found the guy in bed with her best friend. Was there anything worse than that?

I glanced down at the wedding invitation and curled my lip.

“There could be,” I whispered.

Bella was the only one I could trust. She was the only one who could understand and help me out here. From the second I met her, I knew there was something about her that sucked me in. Her heart was broken and confused. Not that I should have been the one adding to it, but maybe I could help her. I’d eventually have to show her my heart, but not tonight.

Tonight, I needed to drink and think.

I put my middle finger to the wedding invitation and slid it to the edge of the table. I grabbed it and stood up, sticking the stupid thing into my pocket and walked with my beer in my hand.

It was my own fault that I got the invitation. Because I let her know where I lived. This apartment was supposed to be my hiding spot. My temporary holdover place until I got my shit sorted out. But the days turned into weeks and weeks into months. I liked working at St. Skin. I didn’t mind the town. This was definitely a place to settle, but I wasn’t in the mindset for settling. I tried that once, and it took everything from me.

Then again, it just wasn’t with the right person.

I paused at the door and looked down the hallway again. Venturing for a little walk, I went to the room where Bella was crashing. I opened the door enough to let the light from the hallway spread across the bed, showing me that she was already asleep.

Taking a deep breath, I thought about what the night could have been. I didn’t mean to push at her that hard. She was just so…kissable. Fuckable. Everything-able. Her lips tasted like whiskey-laced honey. They were temptation mixed with fire. Feeling her body was like grabbing a piece of heaven and holding it tight. Even when she finally let herself go and started to cry, I was touching her and holding her to my chest to let her cry—I didn’t do that kind of shit. I wasn’t the comforting type of guy. But I did it for Bella. There was so much bullshit I could have said to her in that moment to get her to calm down and open her legs, yet I didn’t think twice when I told her to get into bed and fall asleep.

I stepped into the room and toward the bed.

She hadn’t moved an inch.

She was out cold, the booze definitely helping her. She definitely got lucky I pulled her away from the bar when I did. She’d wake up with a headache, but it was better than getting sick all night.

I crouched down and touched her shoulder. I grabbed the covers and pulled them up even more.

Damn, I really felt sorry for her. To give up her dream for someone else and then have that blow up in her face. And this guy had the balls to come back at her and try to tell her it was her fault? That she’d done something so wrong it brought him and her best friend together? Maybe there was more to the story than she let on, but I believed her. I actually believed her.

Bella was knocking over walls inside me without realizing it.

I stood back up and left the bedroom.

I went into my room and tossed the wedding invitation on the dresser. No more hiding the fucking thing. I was going to need it for morning. Then I opened another drawer. My hands hesitated as I thought about what to do. Well, I knew what I wanted to do. I’d come this far with Bella, and there was no need to turn back now.

She’d be the one to understand. She’d be the one to help me.

She was going to have the surprise of a lifetime in the morning.

* * *

I made coffee and waited.

Sleep wasn’t a good friend of mine, which I got used to. So, I sat at the table, just waiting for Bella to wake up. I had some notebooks with me, and I passed the time looking through old sketches and trying to come up with new ideas. Even if I didn’t have any tattoos to work on that day, I always worked on something. It helped to keep the creative juices flowing and keep me from sliding into someplace dark. There was nothing worse than being in the dark and not being able to come up with an idea.

So, I sketched little designs. Most of it was garbage, but it was pencil to paper and my brain reminding my hand that it was capable of doing so.

To think, I was sitting there with something in my left pocket and something in my right pocket. One thing more surprising than the other. One thing completely life-changing.

Gonzo had already called me once, but I ignored it.

I wasn’t in the mood to have him yelling at me about Bella’s car.

I just needed a little more time.

When Bella finally appeared, shuffling from the hallway, I couldn’t believe the smile that crept across my face. Her hair was all shoved to one side, thick and messy from sleeping on the left side of her head. Her eyes were glossy with whatever she had been dreaming about. Although the last time I saw her standing, she was topless. Now she had a hoodie on, the ends of the sleeves balled up over her hands. She was fucking adorable, which was a word that never entered my mind.

“You look like you need coffee,” I said.

I shut my notebooks and shoved them aside.

I poured Bella a coffee as she plopped down in the chair across from me. She put her chin to her fist and let out a sigh.

“Good morning, Zayne,” she said in a grumpy voice.

I slid the coffee in front of her and touched her shoulder. She glanced up at me, and I had this wicked urge to lean down and kiss her. I had this even crazier vision of this being normal for us. Having a morning coffee together, sneaking a few kisses, maybe more before the day got going.

I had to peel myself away from her and took my seat across from her.

She stared down into the coffee. I watched her put in the cream and sugar and then stir it way longer than it needed to be.

“You okay over there?” I asked.

Bella looked at me.

Damn, those eyes…

She looked down again.

I reached across and under the table with my foot and playfully kicked at her leg. “What’s wrong, darlin’? Feeling last night? Want me to get you some medicine?”

“No,” she said. “How bad did I fuck up last night, Zayne?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I did…”

“Well,” I said, rubbing my chin, “you tried to fight everyone you saw, including me. And you got a tattoo.”

“I remember all that,” she said. “I’m talking about…you know, us.”

“What about us?”

Bella tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “Really? You’re going to be the sweet hero who doesn’t remember me attacking you and leaving you hanging?”

“Oh, that,” I said. “Right. Yeah.” I looked over to the floor where my truck keys were from when I threw them. I then looked up and grinned. “I guess I should have centered the table, huh?”

Bella’s cheeks turned red.

I thought about the way we were kissing each other, me putting her on the table, the table sliding across the floor.

Drunk or not, that shit was real. That went beyond need and want. That was…

“I’m sorry for that,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. I wanted to. I mean, I still do, I guess. I just…”

“I get it,” I said.

“You do? Because you keep saying that to me, and then that’s it.”

I leaned back and reached into my right pocket. I took out the wedding invitation and slid it across the table.

“Here,” I said. “You want it, you got it.”

“What's this?”

“My story,” I said.

Bella grabbed the wedding invitation and looked at it. “A wedding…?”

I leaned forward and gritted my teeth. It was time to open my floodgates.

“That, darlin’, that’s my wedding.”