Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(62)

The fight is about to start, and Slate just texted me that he was about to be seated—with his date. His agent Mitch found an up-and-coming actress to be Slate’s girlfriend for the evening. Her name is Bella Sloan. She is gorgeous, and I hate her. She has really gotten into the role of being Slate’s leading lady. She even spoke out earlier this week to a tabloid, telling them that she and Slate had been secretly dating for months.

I really f*cking hate her.

For the last two hours, they have been doing snippets on Slate and his career. I watched them all at first, but then it just made me more anxious. So I went and hid in my bedroom for a while. I needed a few moments to remind myself that he is doing this for me—for us.

I curl up on the giant leather couch next to Leo. Grabbing a throw pillow, I nervously toy with one of the loose strings until I hear the announcer start talking about Slate. My eyes burn into the screen as the camera flashes to him sitting ringside, talking and laughing with his arm thrown around the back of the beautiful brunette’s chair.

Leo must sense my anxiety because he reaches over, patting my leg. "What time is he getting home tonight?"

"Late," I answer quietly.

"You want to go out and grab some food when this is over?"

I turn and look at Leo, who never suggests we go anywhere in public.

"It’s probably your last chance for a while. You’re not going to be able to go anywhere when he gets back."

"I know."

"So? Chicago pizza and a beer?" he asks again, trying to keep my attention away from Slate on the screen. For that alone, I love him.

"Okay." I shrug and turn back to the TV.

For thirty minutes, we watch a fight, but I’m constantly staring into the background, hoping to catch a tiny glimpse of Slate and Bella. Finally, the camera finds them between rounds, and even though we discussed this moment in great detail, it still hits me hard. He casually kisses her. It’s not one of the deep, passionate kisses I know Slate is capable of. It’s brief but he sold it by pulling away and smiling down at her, allowing the moment to linger for a few seconds longer. I immediately turn my head and cover my eyes, physically unable to watch. The announcers and crowd go wild from watching Slate do something so public, but it kills me. Even though I was the one who asked him to do it in the first place.

"It’s done," Leo says, flipping off the TV, not even bothering with the rest of the fight. "Let’s go eat."

I may have tears in my eyes, but there is also a tinge of relief hidden in there somewhere. If only I could focus on that.





I sit on the couch and stare holes in the door. My leg shakes anxiously as I wait for him to return. The last time I heard from him was just over an hour ago, letting me know that his flight had landed. It’s four a.m., but I haven’t been able to sleep without him—or probably more accurately, because of him.

Finally, he slings the door open, saying goodnight to the guard who followed him up and locking his eyes on mine. He’s still wearing the same jeans and button-down he had on at the fight, and if possible, I hate that Bella chick even more. He’s gorgeous and she got to enjoy it.

"Hey," I say with an unconvincing smile as my manners supersede my discomfort.

"Why are you still awake?" he asks, standing his ground—never moving forward even an inch.

I shrug, knotting my hands as I step toward him. "I missed you?"

He lets out a loud sigh before responding, "You have no idea. Come here, beautiful." He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I hurry over, slamming into his chest.

"How was your flight?" I ask, but something feels off. He seems nervous and even a little bit angry.

"Long. I’m exhausted."

"Yeah. Me too. Do you want to go to bed?" I question nervously.

He’s acting so freaking weird.

"No, I want you to swear to me that, as soon as this is over, you’ll marry me and we can move to a small city, where I only have to leave the house to go to the gym. I want a huge privacy fence where no one can take pictures. And a yard full of Rottweilers for those who are brave enough to try. Basically I want to live in a private little bubble with you and no one else—and especially not Bella Sloan." He rolls his eyes at the mere mention of her name.

I smile huge and immediately look down so he doesn’t see how much I needed to hear him say that. Tears of relief sparkle in my eyes as I look up at him. "That sounds like a fantastic idea."

He barely brushes his lips over mine as he says, "It hurt to kiss her."

"I’m sorry you had to let her touch you."

"No, it wasn’t that. It hurt when I looked up and didn’t see your eyes. That was agonizing."

"Slate," I whisper only inches from his mouth.

"Kiss me."

I have no choice but to obey. His tongue rolls into my mouth, forcing a moan from my throat. I quickly climb up his body, needing to feel more of a connection.

I pull away only long enough to tell another truth. I say it just as much for myself as I do for him. "I love you. I know it didn’t mean anything."

"Erica, you're wrong. It meant a f*ck of a lot to me," he growls, leaning me against the cool wall. My back arches, thrusting my hips forward and causing us both to gasp.