Present day . . .
“Shit, man,” Scott says, downing his scotch and soda only to get another. “What happened next?”
I shake my head and it starts to spin from all the alcohol I’ve consumed over the past two hours that it’s taken for me to spill my guts to him. “I never saw her again.”
“That’s seriously fucked up,” he says. “Didn’t you see her at school the next fall?”
I stare at the flyer that still lies on the bar in front of me. My emotions are raw from rehashing our entire relationship. She completely eviscerated me.
“I looked for her everywhere,” I tell him. “I ran by the journalism building every day, hoping to catch her coming or going from class. I frequented the student union where she liked to eat. I even tortured myself by studying at the library in study carrel number thirty-nine. I was a mess. Then one day I was out running with my roommates and I came across Chris.
“It was stupid, I know, but as I ran by him I opened my mouth and spit out ‘How’s your two-timing girlfriend, Asswipe?’ He ran after me and jumped me, calling me an asshole and telling me I had no right to ask about her anymore. Then he punched me.
“My friends pulled me off him as I went to destroy his face. They drug me away and told me she wasn’t worth it. After that, Chris and I never spoke again and we avoided each other at all costs. But I still don’t understand why the guy who ended up with the girl was so mad at me.
“I graduated two years later after trying unsuccessfully to screw Baylor out of my system. I tried to date, but no one measured up. Finally, senior year, Karen suggested we get together, offering up a pretty good argument. She said she knew I didn’t love her ‘that way’ and she was willing to accept that. She convinced me that it was for the best if we were together. She said it would go a long way to mollifying my dad after dropping the bomb on him about changing my major and basically the course of my entire life.
“I knew I could never be in love with anyone again. I’d never put myself out there to be hurt the way Baylor hurt me, so her offer seemed like a good idea at the time. We both got something out of it. Karen got me, something she’d wanted for a very long time, and I got to feel safe with a friend who I knew would never hurt me. We’re basically friends with benefits—only we wear wedding rings.”
I look over at Scott who is stirring his drink with his finger, looking at me contemplatively. “I knew you and Karen had an unusual relationship,” he says. “That explains a hell of a lot.” He laughs.
“Yeah. Our marriage of convenience,” I say. “Not exactly a happily-fucking-ever-after, huh?”
He slaps me on the back and nods to the flyer. “Well, Baylor’s here, right now in this very hotel. What are the odds of that, my friend?” he says. “Maybe you need to talk to her. You know, to get closure after all these years.”
I slam my drink down a little too hard, causing droplets to spatter all over the bar and Baylor’s picture. I pick up the flyer, wipe it off, fold it, and place it in my pocket. I shake my head at him. “She made her choice then, Scott. Nothing she could say would do a bit of good.”
I open my wallet and throw a few large bills on the bar as I stand up. “I’m goin’ back to the suite,” I say, stumbling toward the entrance of the bar.
Scott comes up beside me, steadying me. “I’ll make sure you get there in once piece, man.”
We walk to an open elevator and pile in with several other people. Scott reaches over to push the button for the sixteenth floor when a woman calls out, “Hold the elevator!”
Scott quickly puts his arm in between the closing doors to allow her time to get on.
“Thank you,” she says, struggling with a leather satchel that she pulls onto her shoulder as she walks towards the car.
I look at the person stepping on the elevator and my heart slams into my chest wall. Baylor fucking Mitchell.
Nope, the picture on the flyer was most definitely not Photoshopped. I think she’s even more gorgeous than she was eight years ago. A lump forms in my throat that feels like it’s cutting off the oxygen I need to keep breathing.
Next to me, Scott guffaws, earning him a kick in the shin from me as I try to steady myself in my drunken state. Baylor freezes when she sees me. She looks like a deer caught in headlights. Then she visibly pales and anger flashes in her chameleon eyes right before she turns around to face the closing elevator doors. I don’t miss her shaky hand reaching over to press the button for the tenth floor. Her whole body tenses and she radiates anger throughout the confines of the elevator.
A few men next to me hold a conversation, blissfully unaware of the rising temperature and unbridled tension swimming about them. I can’t tear my eyes away from the back of her. I take in her appearance as my gaze slowly shifts down her body. Her almost-straight hair falls to the middle of her back. It’s a similar light-brown color as before, but it looks like she’s either had highlights added or spent a lot of time in the sun.
She’s wearing a tailored dress suit that accentuates her small waist. The mile-high shoes she wears add several inches to her short stature. I stare at her legs that are bare from right above the knee. She shifts uncomfortably—either that or her feet hurt from the ridiculously high heels that help add even more shape to her fit, suntanned calves.
My goddamn dick twitches. How can she still affect me like this after all this time? After she led me on and then stomped all over my heart?
The elevator doors open and a mother and child exit. It’s only the seventh floor, but I can see Baylor’s legs move forward to step off. Then she hesitates and the doors shut once again.
A few more seconds of torture and we arrive at the tenth floor. She steps off the elevator even before the doors fully open. Scott nudges me with his elbow.
Before I can censor my drunken words, they tumble from my lips. “Miss me?”
Her steps falter and she stops moving for a beat before she starts walking away as fast as her stilettos can carry her, never having turned around to look at me.
I make a split-second decision to follow her off the elevator. Scott chuckles behind me and mumbles something about luck as I hear the doors close, leaving me standing on the tenth floor watching Baylor walk away.
Surely she can hear me walking behind her, but she’s not bothering to acknowledge it.
“Baylor,” I say.
She stops in her tracks. I don’t miss that her hands have balled up into fists down by her side. She turns around to reveal a face that is ridden with sadness. Unwiped tears roll down her cheeks past her perfectly pink lips. Before I can say another word, her expression changes completely and if ever someone could shoot fire from their eyes, it would be her, right here, right now.
She holds up a hand with her palm out, indicating for me to stay back. “Get away from me,” she says loudly. “You are someone I never wanted to see again and now you’ve ruined what was a perfectly good day.”
She turns around and walks away. I stand here, stunned at the sound of her voice after all these years. The voice that has haunted my dreams since the day I saw her jump into Chris’s arms.
“Don’t walk away, Baylor!” I yell after her. I continue to follow her down the long hotel hallway. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Can you at least fucking give me that?”
She spins around, venom seeping from her eyes along with more tears. “Owe you an explanation?” She shakes her head. “You were there, too, Gavin. I didn’t do it all on my own, you know.”
“Yeah, I was there alright,” I spit back at her. “I was there when you ran back to Chris. But you didn’t know I saw that, did you?”
“What are you talking about?” she yells. “You left me!” Her open hand hits the wall next to her for emphasis. “You left me and I never heard from you again.”
I try to wrap my head around what she’s saying. I left her. For Brazil? She knew I was going all along. She told me to go for Christ’s sake. What about her Facebook confessions?
“I suppose you’re going to deny all that shit you posted on Facebook, too!” I yell, faintly aware of quickening footsteps behind me.
“Are you drunk, Gavin?” She looks at me through cold and bitter eyes. “You must be confusing me with one of your whores!” she yells.
“Yes, I’m drunk, darlin’!” I shout, kicking a table in the hallway, toppling over a vase full of flowers. “I’m just drunk enough and stupid enough to admit that you ripped out my fuckin’ heart.” I reach in my pocket and pull out my keys, holding them up for her to see. “You built me up, then you tore me apart, Mitchell.”
She stares at the keychain that she gave me after I found it on the ground the first day we met. The keychain that reminded me all these years to be myself and pave my own path in life. To never do what was simply expected of me. The damn keychain that made me who I am today.
“Why?” she asks. “Why would you bother to keep that after what you did to me?”
A strong hand grabs my shoulder. I turn to see a large man in a hotel security uniform. He says, “Sir, I’m afraid I’ll have to get the police involved if you don’t calm down right now and come with me.”
Baylor takes this opportunity to scurry down the hall as a few doors open and heads peek out into the hallway to see what the commotion is about. I see her round the corner and then I hear a door slam shut.
Brutus grabs my arm. “Are we going to have a problem here?”
I debate fighting him off to go after her, but even in my inebriated state, I realize that would only end badly.
“No. I’m staying at the hotel,” I tell him. “I’ll head back to my room.”
“Okay then,” he says. “I’ll make sure you get there.”