Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(43)
“You’re wrong,” I tell him, but my voice is hollow and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t push it any further, though. Instead he goes into the kitchen and makes…
Black coffee.
Chapter Sixteen
Grace
In my old bedroom at my parents’ house I take a deep breath, and tug on the sleeve of my emerald green dress so it covers my tattoo. Half of our extended family is already here, and the rest will be arriving within minutes for our usual Thanksgiving get-together, but the thought of going downstairs and acting like everything is great churns my stomach.
Everything isn’t great, and I was so tempted to not show up today, but the fallout from that act of rebellion isn’t even worth thinking about. Besides, the only place I really want to be is with Zach, and that isn’t even an option.
Charity strolls into the room, her hair piled on top of her head, wearing a red and black silk sheath that’s absolutely gorgeous but will probably give our dad a heart attack. When I arrived home on Tuesday evening and told her it was over with Zach, she just got out alcoholic ice cream and a heap of chick flicks, and we spent the next thirty hours dissecting the entire ill-fated affair until we drove over here this morning.
Not once did she say “I told you so.”
“Guess what?” She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows.
“I’m not in the mood for twenty questions.”
“Russ just canceled.”
“Good.” At least that’s one less thorn in my side I’ll have to deal with today. “It’s a shame he didn’t cancel on Mom Sunday morning.” If he hadn’t turned up at our apartment, I’m sure things wouldn’t have escalated the way they did with Zach.
That’s true, but in my heart I know it doesn’t make much difference. All that happened was it forced Zach to tell me what he really thought and shattered my rose-colored delusion that I meant more to him than a good f*ck.
I shiver and sit at the end of my elegant four-poster bed. Nothing much has changed in the room, despite me not living here for years, and I never really thought much about the fact both my sister and I had our own suite of rooms growing up. Not to mention the ocean views from our private balconies.
Zach’s entire apartment could fit in here. I’m not sure why that’s such a depressing thought except it underscores just how different we really are. I thought our backgrounds didn’t matter, but obviously whenever he called me “princess,” there was a lot more to it than a term of endearment, as I’d so naively imagined.
“Typical male.” Charity sits next to me and threads her fingers through mine. “Screws everything up and then does the right thing when it’s too late to matter.”
I squeeze her hand. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her over the last couple of days. When I broke up with Russell after four years together, it was simply a huge relief. I was only with Zach for a month and it’s like my entire existence imploded.
“It was never going to work between Zach and me. I just didn’t want to see it.”
She’s silent for a moment. “What would you do if he turned up, asking for a second chance?”
I give her a bitter smile. Although I told her almost everything that happened, I kept a couple of things back. Such as the good f*ck comment because I can’t even think about that without wanting to shrivel into a mortified heap on the ground.
There’s no way he’d ever ask for another chance, even if it were something he wanted. Kat was right all along. He only ever wanted me for one thing, and the sooner I face that, the sooner I can start to get over him.
“If he turned up at the front door right now, I’d slam it in his face.”
…
Charity doesn’t leave my side as we do the prerequisite mingling before dinner, themed cocktails in hand. It’s never been a chore before because I love catching up with various cousins and relatives I haven’t seen in ages, but today I have to strangle the desperate urge to scream.
Mom and Dad join us, just as we’re chatting to one of our great aunts. At least, my sister’s doing most of the chatting which suits me, since my social skills appear to have gone into hibernation.
“Harmony, dearest.” Our great aunt grasps my mom’s hand and gives her a little shake. “Such a shame dear Russell couldn’t be here today. I was just saying to Charity, I’m sure this will all blow over very soon.”
Oh for God’s sake. I’m not going to stand here while Mom twitters on about how we’re just taking a little break—
“Grace and Russell have broken up, Dorothy,” my mom says, and I nearly drop my cocktail glass. “It’s a terrible shame, but these things happen.”
Wait. What? Since when has Mom accepted that decision? I didn’t think she believed I was serious even when she met Zach on Sunday. Otherwise why did she ask Russell if he was still coming to Thanksgiving today? I catch Charity’s glance, and she gives a barely perceptible shrug.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Great Aunt Dorothy bestows a benevolent smile my way. “You two are destined to be together. The merging of two great dynasties. Imagine the heritage you’ll be able to pass down to your children.”
Charity chokes on her drink, and I stand there with a stupid smile on my face, when all I want to do is tell the whole room that for the last month I’ve been enjoying wild sex with my biker f*ck.