Page 93 of Fall I Want
“No,wefucking didn’t. Don’t you dare try to rewrite history. I was there. You hurt me.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I know I messed up. But I deserve another chance to make it up to you. We were so good together.”
“Were we?” I glare at him. I remember the times I made dinner and ate alone because he was too busy. There were so many canceled dates I lost count. After a while, I stopped making plans. The person I became when I was with him isn’t who I am. Or who I ever want to be again. I don’t know that version of myself anymore.
“I won’t give up on us until you’re married. I hope you know that. I’ll be waiting for you and Zane to end it.”
I narrow my eyes. The fucking audacity.
Moments later, a firm hand is on my waist.
“Hey, beautiful. Are you okay?” Zane asks in my ear, but I hear the concern in his tone. His fingertips brush the outside of my arm.
I turn and face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Much better now.”
Then I gently press my lips to his. At first, he tenses as if he wasn’t expecting it, then immediately reciprocates. Our tongues slide together and the world threatens to disappear as my bare back presses against the cool wall.
I hear Sebastian mutter something under his breath, and a few seconds later, we pull away.
Zane watches me. “What happened?”
“I thought you sent me this dress.”
His brows furrow. “I—”
“Sebastian did.”
With a clenched jaw, he exhales slowly. “Can we leave, please?”
“Yes, I’d very much appreciate that.”
Zane grabs my hand, guiding me down the hallway. “Fuck him,” he seethes.
I enjoy his protective side and that he even noticed.
“You’re mine, Autumn,” he confirms as an electric current hums between us.
“At least until January.” It was our deal. The thought comforts me like a warm blanket in the winter, and I hold on to the time we’ve confirmed we’ll be together.
We walk through the restaurant, past the host stand, then we’re outside. I suck in fresh air, noticing the temperature has dropped ten degrees since our arrival. When the sun fully sets on the mountain, that happens. I shiver and Zane removes his suit jacket and places it over my shoulders, covering my bare back. It’s warm and smells like him. I feel safe and my self-consciousness fades away.
The white suit shirt bulges at his biceps and hugs him around his tapered waist. Zane Alexander is what dreams are made of. Is that ironic?
As we stand at the pick-up area, instrumental music plays over the loudspeaker.
“This song reminds me of my teenage dirtbag years.”
I chuckle. “I couldn’t name it, but also, I don’t believe you.”
“There are pictures to prove I had a phase. Dance with me,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Right here?” I ask with a chuckle, but I take his hand anyway, wanting the distraction.
He gives me a smile and pulls me in close, nuzzling his face into my hair as he inhales.
“I’d dance with you in Hell,” he admits. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
Confidence drips from him as he spins me, bringing me back to his chest. My body relaxes and everything around us vanishes. Nothing matters. Not the dress, not my dumb-as-fuck ex. No, right now, it’s just us.
