Collide (Collide, #1)(120)
Time was running out.
Tick…
Dillon’s words to her a few hours before she took him back:
“Do you remember what your mother told us before she died, Emily? She told us to take care of one another. She told us to stick through whatever uphill battles life throws at us and to never give up on our relationship.”
Tock….
Gavin’s searing pleas to her in the rain.
“You don’t hate me. You love me. And, Jesus Christ, Emily, I love you with everything inside of me, with everything I am, with everything I’ll ever be.”
Palms sweaty and body shaking, Emily took another few steps across the room.
Tick-tock…
Trying to fight back tears, Dillon’s voice kept pounding inside her thoughts:
“Let me fix it. I can fix it and make us better again. I can bring us back to where we used to be.”
Tick-tock…tick-tock…
“Leave with me right now. Don’t do this. Don’t marry him. We’ll tell him together. I told you I wouldn’t let you do it alone. Gina means nothing to me anymore. I shouldn’t have let her in, but for f*ck’s sake, I didn’t do anything with her.”
Tick-tock…tick-tock…tick-tock…
Feeling completely torn, it was all Emily could do to make it to her chair without passing out. Letting go of Lisa’s hand, she sank into her seat at the head of the table, her eyes following Gavin as he moved across the room. He positioned himself just diagonally from her, their view of one another as unobstructed as a full moon on a clear night. Draping an arm across Trevor’s chair next to him, Gavin tipped his bottle of beer in Emily’s direction with a lazy smile on his lips.
Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Emily tore her attention from him when Dillon sat down next to her. As he leaned over to kiss her, her eyes flew back to Gavin’s, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she could see his jaw tense. Swallowing hard, she quickly pulled away from him.
“What the hell is wrong with you tonight?” Dillon asked, his tone showing annoyance.
She cleared her throat. “Nothing. I told you I wasn’t feeling well. That’s all.”
“I hope that by tomorrow you’ll snap out of whatever’s going on with you,” he said, pulling his seat up to the table. “And something tells me you’re f*cking lying about not feeling well.”
Emily’s body rippled with an involuntary shudder at the thought that he could see right through her. Not saying a word, she reached across the table for her glass of water. Nervously sipping it, she tried to coax her racing thoughts down. One of the waiters circling the room approached to take their orders, offering temporary reprieve from the conversation. She needed a strong drink desperately, but considering Dillon told her he hadn’t drank since he’d returned from Florida, she decided to forgo it. Trying to keep her eyes from roaming to Gavin’s, she kept her head downcast, staring at her twisting hands in her lap.
“So,” Dillon’s cousin, Peter, called out to him from across the table, “one would assume that you and the Mrs. are going to start working on making some babies tomorrow night after the wedding.”
Emily’s head snapped up, her eyes darting to Gavin.
Gazing at her, a tight smirk curled Gavin’s lips. “They should have bucketloads of babies—and a green minivan, too.”
Emily’s mouth hung ajar as she watched him casually lean back in his seat. Downing the rest of his beer, he gave a shrug and exhaled a light laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
Other than those who knew what was going on between them, the room broke out into quaking hysterics.
“Let’s hope so, Gavin,” Henry chuckled. “Joan and I want us some grandbabies as soon as possible. If they could fill a green minivan with little ones, then that would just make us all the happier.”
“Well, I don’t know about making babies just yet, but I know we’ll have fun practicing.” Dillon replied, tossing his arm around Emily’s shoulder. Smiling weakly, she smoothed her hand down her neck, the perspiration on her body mounting by the second. “And the green minivan’s not happening.”
“Okay, enough talk about green minivans,” Joan laughed. “Peter, since you’re the best man, I’m sure you’ve prepared some sort of speech for the evening.”
“Actually, Aunt Joan, I didn’t,” he replied, motioning one of the waiters over. “Just the one I’ve expertly prepared on index cards for tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, Peter.” She leaned her elbows on the table, folding her hands under her chin. “You don’t need the index cards. Just get up and say something to our bride and groom.”
“I’d be happy to make a speech for our wonderful bride and groom,” Gavin chimed in, flicking his icy blue eyes to Emily.
Emily stared at him, her heart nearly stopping.
“Nah, you don’t want to make a speech, Gavin,” Trevor interjected, the nervousness in his voice clearly showing he was trying to salvage the situation. “You’ve never been good at them to begin with.”
Rising from his seat, Gavin swayed slightly. He looked to Joan. “I took public speaking courses in college, so Trevor has no f*cking idea what he’s talking about. I’m pretty good at this shit.”
“Killer save, Blake,” Peter laughed. “I’m horrible at them, index cards or not.”