Chapter 23
“You can run but you can’t hide.” My thought slipped from my mouth.
I climbed the stairs to the third floor, peeking inside each room. My chest constricted as I stood in front of the last door; I knew it was the one.
It had to be.
Pressing my ear against the solid wooden surface, I didn’t hear a sound. An unsettling feeling rushed through me. I knew he was inside, felt his presence like tiny impulses zinging every nerve in my body.
It’s now or never.
With a trembling hand, I slowly turned the knob and blinked hard at the sight.
Garrett.
For a long moment, I didn’t move, standing frozen as I took in the sight of him. He was stretched out casually on a dark navy chaise lounge with only a hint of sunlight beaming through the blinds. His bare feet were crossed at the ankles, khaki shorts unsnapped, and—for the love of God—he was shirtless. He was a sight to behold.
And he was very drunk.
The empty bottle of scotch lying on the floor beside him was my first clue. The second was the bottle of amber liquid shoved between his thighs, his hand loosely circled around the glass neck.
I let out the pent-up breath I’d held in, releasing a long exhale, and finally pulled myself out of the momentarily surprised trance. Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me and twisted the knob to lock it before walking toward him, feeling let down. Our talk was going to have to wait.
Lines creased his forehead and his brows were clenched with a frown. I ran my fingers over his clean-shaven jaw, missing the stubble. He stirred and groaned but his eyes never fluttered.
“Looks like you get a free pass for now.” I moved the tip of my index finger over the seam of his lips.
I turned the nautical navy and white striped duvet back and wondered how the hell my small frame was going to pick up Mr. Rock Solid to move him to the bed. Taking the bottle from his hands, I slid it across the bedside table and shook his shoulder.
“Garrett, wake up for a minute. Let me help you to bed.”
He moaned and mumbled something incoherent before turning his head the other way.
“Garrett,” I said, more firmly and loudly while shaking him with a little more gusto. “Get up and walk with me.”
He just moaned, causing me to roll my eyes.
“Maybe I should leave your ass here.” I poked his chest.
Tugging his legs over the edge of the chair, he slumped over with his feet planted on the floor. Slowly he squinted through his lashes and looked in my direction.
“Brooke?” His voice was hoarse, like his throat was dry and parched.
“Hey you. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Leave me…go…” He pulled away so hard his floppy body lost balance and almost rolled onto the floor on the opposite side.
“If you’re already calling it quits on us, you’ll have to do it when you’re not plastered. Now hush and come on,” I softly ordered, grabbing his upper arm and holding him steady.
“Never meant…”
He stopped his sentence, and I didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t form the words or if he was cognizant enough to restrain himself
“Never meant what?”
“To keep…”
He blinked with an unfocused gaze, and I knew aside from a hell of a hangover, he wouldn’t remember any of this.
“To keep what, Garrett?”
“Tsk tsk…no you don’t.” He shook his head in a wobbly motion. “Almost…had me.”
“You’re a terrible drunk, and it makes you a lousy boyfriend. Now come on before I lose my patience.” I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t leave…me.” His words were thick, and the heavy scent of whiskey fanned across my face.
I swallowed hard, trying to listen to my inner conscience telling me not to try to get a drunken confession.
“I’m not going anywhere. Get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.”
I tugged at him again, managing to get him to plant his feet on the soft cream carpet.
“I can’t hold your weight by myself. If I get help from Stone and Chad, they’ll have something to poke fun at you about for years to come. Now come on and help me.”
“Hmph.” He mumbled something else that sounded like They can kiss my ass, but I couldn’t be sure.
It took some effort, but he managed to clumsily stagger to the bed with my arm wrapped around his waist in a vice grip. I pulled the covers up and he stared through his lashes with his half-closed eyes.
“You’re the best thing…ever happened to me,” he said before closing his eyes and falling into a deep, relaxed sleep.
I kissed his lips, lingering because I knew it might be my last chance to do so. In less than twenty-four hours we’d be catching a plane and going our separate ways. I could barely stand the thought and pressed my lips a little harder against his soft mouth.
Instead of going back to my room, I curled up in the chair next to the bed and drank in every feature of his beautiful face. How easy it was to fall in love with him. He’d been my soul-keeper, my lover, my protector, my confidant, and my addiction. Drawing my feet underneath me, I closed my eyes, etching him into my memory.
If what we had ended badly, if we said a final goodbye, he would be imprinted on my mind like the most beautiful piece of art on a canvas.
“Well this didn’t go as planned,” I whispered. “What are you so scared to tell me, Garrett? What in God’s name have you done that makes you think I would hate you?”
Hours passed with me staring at him, and I couldn’t resist one more kiss. I found myself sliding my knee onto the mattress and stroking his soft hair as I placed my lips on his.
What is it? What have you done?
Cheating would be a definite reason to hate him, but that wasn’t possible; we’d been on an uninhabited island the entire time we’d been exclusive.
Lying was a hard limit, but I couldn’t think of anything he’d have to lie about. From the beginning he’d been honest about not committing to a long-term relationship. He’d made it clear he didn’t want the white picket fence and kids package; I got that.
I knew he could be callous, arrogant, and cocky, but I also knew firsthand the kind, warm, gentle, and giving side of him.
Trust was another non-negotiable requirement. He hadn’t given me a reason to waver in doubt…until now, and now I swam in it.
From the emergency crash landing to making sure we had shelter and food, he’d taken care of me. In everything sexual, he made sure it was always amazing, always made me come again and again. Everything had been perfect.
Fucking perfect.
I couldn’t breathe.
What the hell happened?
A few hours later, I fell asleep curled up in the chair, facing him, my mind asking that same question over and over again.
I woke in the exact same position. A plush throw now covered my body, and the bed where I’d left Garrett was empty.
Light filtered from underneath the bathroom door and when it opened, my lips parted. Garrett sauntered in with only a towel wrapped around his hips.
He looked like hell. He squinted his eyes, and I knew he had the hangover of all hangovers.
“Did you take anything for the headache?”
He slowly shook his head. “I told my family to keep you away from my room.”
“They gave me the message.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t get to pull that shit after the morning we had. I wanted answers, and now all I want is the truth.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his glistening wet hair. “It’s killing me to not tell you, but I won’t. It’s not the right time.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I stood up abruptly, hands on my hips.
“It means it’s not the right time. Everything will make sense soon, Brooke.”
“We had a perfect fucking morning yesterday and then you have some argument with Avery and it all goes to hell?”
“It went to hell long before that.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the fucking truth.” He shrugged.
“You said you would never lie to me.”
“I haven’t lied to you, I just haven’t told you everything. There’s a difference.”
“It feels as if you’re pushing me away.”
“Maybe I am.”
“I deserve to know why.” I felt as though I were going to crumble to the floor. I felt him putting space between us—space I didn’t want, space that didn’t have to be there.
“When you have your answers, I’ll be waiting. Until then, I need you to leave my room and give me space.”
He was far from the man I’d known. He didn’t stand tall, so powerful and arrogant. Instead of the cocky eyes and devilish grin I loved, he wore a grim expression that stole my hope. He had the power to stop my heart from cracking wide open, but instead his next words pierced my chest.
“What is it Garrett? What’s making you shut me out?”
“I need to put some space between us. It’s the right thing to do. I shouldn’t have ever started this with you.”
I stared at him, shattered into innumerable pieces. Within a few hours, Garrett had become someone I didn’t recognize, a complete stranger.
“Last night you said some things I hoped you meant. Do you remember asking me to not leave you?”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“You said I was the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
He leaned against the door, face emotionless, arms crossed.
“Just go, Brooke. We’ll be at the port in a few hours.”
“All the things you said to me…all the things we did together while we were on the island—did they mean nothing to you?”
He stared hard into my eyes. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is the right thing to do.”
“Right for who? Leaving doesn’t feel right, and I know deep down you don’t want me to leave.”
“It has to be this way.”
“Garrett, when I walk out that door, I’m never going to look back. If you ever feel regret, I hope you wallow in it, because it was you who fucked us up. I had nothing to do with it.”
His silence was the final period on our story, the end of us.
I brushed past without glancing at him, too afraid he would see the tears forming in my eyes. After closing the door, I didn’t try to stop the rush of sadness pouring from my eyes on the way back to my room.
Falling apart, I collapsed on the bed and curled into a fetal position.
He’d dumped me, giving me the oldest breakup line of all. It would have been so easy for him to talk to me instead of pushing me away. It could have made all the difference in the world.
Fucking love—what a joke.
It seemed it just wasn’t in the cards for me to find love or happiness.