Page 9 of Taking What's Ours
I bite my lip. The last thing I want to do is run into anyone from the wedding.
Dylan holds the door open. “We’ll be quick.”
“Right.” We head to the elevator, and I punch the button for the floor. I lead him to the suite and let us in, my heart in my throat. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved to find the suite empty.
Dylan whistles, shoving his hands in his pocket and walking to the view of the corner suite with its floor-to-ceiling windows. “This place is amazing.”
It is. The views are expansive. There’s even a fireplace in the corner. It’s every girl’s dream.
It was mine, anyway.
His gaze hits the big king bed. There’s a heart in red rose petals. He clears his throat and glances to my pink bag standing off to the side. “This the only one?”
I nod, and he grabs it and turns toward the door. But I hesitate, gazing around the room again.
He pauses. “You having second thoughts?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good. Let’s go.”
He grabs the bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. “Dickhead doesn’t deserve this. Come on.”
As we head back down the hall, the elevator dings, and I grab Dylan’s arm, hiding behind him and peering over his shoulder, but it’s just an elderly couple—no one I know.
On the ride to Dylan’s floor, he studies me, and I feel the energy radiating between us in the closed in space. He doesn’t speak, just lets the silence be. And that’s okay. I don’t want to talk, and I like that he doesn’t feel the need to fill the quiet space. It’s easy between us. It’s like he gets me. Or maybe I’m just relaxed because I don’t feel the need to try so hard to please this man. He’s Elliott’s brother. I’m safe with him.
Right?
His eyes lock on mine. Something flashes between us, and his gaze drifts down my neck to my shoulders. Warmth flushes my skin. I shouldn’t be reacting to him, but I am.
The elevator dings, and the doors open. We step out and move down the hall. When we get to the room, he keeps a distance between us.
“You can have the bathroom first, if you want to change,” he offers, moving to his own suitcase and flipping it on one of the beds.
“Thanks,” I mumble and wheel my suitcase in with me. I stare at my reflection, wondering if this is a mistake. But everything Dylan told me tonight about his brother is backed up in the way Elliott treated me tonight. Going blindly back to him right now would be a mistake—one I can’t afford to make.
My entire life I’ve picked the wrong men. In high school, the boys I dated never wanted to get serious; they were never totally infatuated with me. I always worried if they were cheating on me, and every single time that turned out to be the case. College was no better. And internet dating was a joke.
After a long line of Mr. Wrongs, I’d practically given up on finding Mr. Right. That’s when Elliott took an interest in me. I thought I’d finally found the one. Now, I’m no longer sure.
If I’m being honest with myself, there were other red flags; even Maggie tried to warn me that I was rushing into this, that I should take more time and be sure. She never said as much, but I could tell she never really liked Elliott. But she tolerated him because she knew I was in love. Now her warning rings in my ears.Are you sure, Elaina?
Iwassure. At least, I thought I was. But now I’m beginning to face the fact that my ticking biological clock may have made me overlook those warning signs. I want children and a family so badly, and I’m terrified that time is running out for me. If my relationship with Elliott is in the toilet, then I’ll have to start all over again, trying to find someone.
It makes me want to cry.
If it was just me, I’d probably take the chance on Elliott, but what Dylan told me about how his brother will treat our children has me terrified in a way I can’t possibly overlook. I can’t be wrong in the decision I make. Not when so much is riding on it.
I pull out my phone and power it on. A dozen missed calls pop up. A few from my mother, a couple from Maggie and the rest from Elliott.
I text my mother that I’m fine and need time to think if this marriage was a mistake.
I text Maggie that I’m fine and will call her tomorrow.
I ignore Elliott’s messages. Fuck him. Let him worry. He has to learn that his actions have repercussions, something that Dylan says his brother hasneverlearned.
Turning my phone off, I toss it on the counter and change into a soft t-shirt I had packed and leave my leggings on. It’s that or the sexy negligee I’d packed for my wedding night, and that’s not happening.
I brush my teeth and wash my face, then let my hair down. When I can stall no longer, I exit the bathroom, flicking the light off.