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Buried in the Stars Page 14
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I shake my head back and forth, even though he’s still holding it. “I don’t want to know. That’s over.”
He puts the slightest bit of pressure on my cheeks. “Obviously it’s not if you can’t even look at a picture of the two of them.”
“I was just shocked. I’m over it.” I move his hands from my face and give them a squeeze. “You worry too much about me.” I smile at my friend and try to convince him I’m better, but he’s not buying it. Why would he? Easton knows me better than anyone.
“You want to get out of here? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“No. I want to catch up with your mom and dad.”
He returns my smile and my stomach does a little flip. “There’s my girl. Ready?”
I nod. “Thank you, Easton. I love you.”
He brings my hands up to his mouth and kisses each of them, never moving his eyes from mine. “I love you, too.” His gaze is warm, his voice is thick, and my belly flips a few more times. “Let’s get out of here before Mom panics.”
We go back in the living room to eat and talk with his parents, but he never moves from my side, never lets go of me. They look at us curiously but never say anything about the fact that we’re sitting more like lovers than friends. Easton always gives me what I need, and right now I need a distraction so that I don’t let my gaze wander to the canvases hanging on the walls, or to the smaller candid shots framed on the tables and fireplace mantle. Easton’s touch is giving me something else to fixate on. His hand feels good in mine. I miss the feel of rough fingertips trailing up and down my thigh, or drawing circles on my shoulder. His lips pressing against my temple help me fight the urge to run out of the house when I start to feel overwhelmed. I know it’s wrong, but for once, I’m not going to think about that.
“That must be Emily,” Doc says when we hear honking from the driveway.
We all go outside to greet her. She gets out of the car, screaming, her hand thrust forward. A diamond the size of golf ball is sitting on the ring finger of her left hand. Mrs. Vera pulls her in for a hug, and Easton and I stand there with our jaws hanging open.
Emily started seeing some hot shot talent agent a few months ago. They met at a party in L.A., and it was love at first sight. I didn’t expect anything less from her. Emily goes at everything full throttle. I assumed she was exaggerating about the relationship, but I guess she wasn’t.
When Em and Mrs. Vera are done with their squealing, she comes to me and clasps onto my shoulders. “Scarlett, you have to be in this wedding. I’ll die if you aren’t.”
“I, um, I can’t, uh-,” I’m floundering, trying to come up with excuses, but it’s hard to do when I don’t even know anything about her upcoming nuptials.
“Let’s go inside,” Easton says, ushering us up the drive and back inside the house.
“We’re both so busy,” she says once we’re all seating in the living room. “The wedding’s in just a few weeks. I wanted a beach wedding in Santa Monica, of course, everything done in white. It’s been my dream since I first stepped foot on the sand. Gregory will do whatever I want, so a beach wedding it is!”
“A few weeks?” Mrs. Vera asks.
“Yes.” She’s staring at the massive rock on her finger. “It was now or next year, and we simply didn’t want to wait. Everything’s all set. You should see Estella in her little flower girl’s dress. She’s adorable. I think I have a picture on my phone.”
I start to stiffen but Easton clears his throat and shakes his head at his cousin, all while his hand slips underneath my hair and starts massaging the nape of neck. “Oh,” Emily says, realizing her slip. “Sorry.” As she’s putting her phone up, she catches sight of his hand on me. “Oh!” she repeats, but the tone is much different this time. “Do you want to go for a walk?” The gleam in her eye can’t be missed. “We can catch up, and I can fill you in on the wedding.”
“I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.” I throw in a yawn for good measure.
Easton nudges my side. “You should go.”
“Please?” Emily begs and I feel like a twelve year old girl again, sitting on her bed gossiping and watching movies. “We never get to talk anymore.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer, but stands and pulls me off the couch instead. The second we walk outside she drops my hand. “Spill it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Scarlett Cook, don’t play dumb with me.” We may never talk anymore, but it’s like no time has passed. “I want to know what’s going on between you and my cousin.”
“He’s my best friend.” I never stop walking, my feet guiding me on autopilot to the woods.
“He’s been your best friend for years and I’ve never seen the two of you act like that.”
“I was his brother’s girlfriend. It was hardly appropriate for us to touch.”
She bumps me with her shoulder and hits me with her 100-watt smile. “Are we talking friends with benefits here?”
“No indeed. He’s like a brother to me.”
“I’ve never seen a brother touch a sister like that.”
“Oh, shut it.” I have this conversation with people more times than I ever thought I would. Everyone at school thinks we’re a couple. Most of the time we don’t bother correcting anyone. Easton would rather customers at the bar think we’re together than have them hassling me while I work.
We walk in silence until we get to the edge of the woods. “God,” I inhale, pulling in the smell from the trees surrounding us. “I can’t believe this place is still here.” My eyes wander over the treehouse, still standing in all its glory. I start to climb the steps to go inside.
“You’re really making me go in there? Do you know how much this outfit cost?”
I laugh. “Based on the size of that ring, your fiancé can get you a new one if you ruin it. Come on, Em.”
She feigns annoyance but climbs into the treehouse without missing a beat. It’s a little more cramped than the last time we were up here together. We sit in the middle and I’m hit with a wave of emotions. They’re too much to process all at once, so I push them aside and focus on my friend.
“So, two weeks?”
She smiles. “Yeah. I know it’s quick, but why wait? Gregory’s the one. I knew it the second I laid eyes on him.” She places her hand on my knee. “Scarlett, I have friends in Cali, but none of them compare to you. Those friendships don’t even come close to the one we had growing up. I know we’ve grown apart, but I wouldn’t feel right getting married without you being there.”
My eyes start to sting. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend. It was too hard to be reminded of him.” All I’ve done today is cry and apologize.
“I know. Will you come? If it’s the money, I’ll send you a ticket.”
I shake my head. “That’s not the issue.” I drop my voice, scared to admit what I’m feeling. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing him.” I’ve avoided it for the past three years. I’d like to avoid it forever.
She gives me a sad smile. “Don’t think that this has been all sunshine and rainbows for him either. He’s had it just as bad as you have.”
I wipe at my face. God, I’m so damn tired of crying over him. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Tell me about the wedding. Am I going to have to wear something awful? That might be a deal breaker.”
“So you’ll come?” She looks like she’s about to pounce.
I hope I don’t regret this. “I’ll come. I want to be there for you. You were always there for me, Em.”
She shrieks and I swear it could break glass. Her arms wrap around my neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise that everything’ll be fine. The dress, the wedding, seeing Sutton… it’ll be a breeze.”
We sit in the treehouse laughing, crying, reminiscing, and it’s like we’re kids again. Maybe I can do this. Maybe it’s possible to insert myself back into the lives of the Winters’ family and do it without being hurt in th
e process.
Chapter Sixteen
Easton and I fly into California the night before the wedding. Emily wasn’t too pleased with our last minute arrival, but we needed to stay in town as late as possible because of school. Even if that wasn’t the case, I would have fabricated some other excuse. I love Emily, but I don’t need her happiness shoved down my throat, and I certainly don’t want to see Sutton any more than I have to.
I don’t know why I agreed to this in the first place. After Em and I talked in the woods, the reality of my decision sunk in. I found myself crawling into bed with Easton that night, seeking out his familiar touch and words of assurance that everything was going to be alright.
I haven’t left his bed since.
Nothing has happened between the two of us… nothing except for whispered goodnights, sleepy embraces, and awkward mornings like the one we experienced on his couch several weeks ago. It’s not right, especially when I see the way he looks at me, but I need him, and I can’t sleep if I’m not wrapped in his arms.
“Here we are,” he says, pulling me from my guilty musings.
While the rest of his family is staying at the Oceanside cottage, the two of us decided on a hotel room for our stay. It’s one thing to expect me to attend a wedding with my ex. It’s quite another to want me under the same roof as him.
“This is nice.”
Easton insisted on booking a room close to the ceremony site, in case a quick getaway is in order. He looks at his watch and walks a little faster through the lobby and to the concierge. “Let’s get unpacked and changed. The rehearsal starts soon.”
I let him handle checking in, and I turn my phone back on from the flight. Messages start popping up immediately. Most of them are from Emily, making sure we’re on our way, but a few of them are from my mother.
To say our relationship is strained is a bit of an understatement. As much as she’s changed, proven she’s not the person she was in the years after my father’s death, I can’t forgive her for the abuse and neglect I suffered. She’s pushing for a relationship with me, but I can’t give that to her right now. We talk every once in a while, but I can’t forget what she put me through. Maybe one day I’ll learn to trust her again, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon. I shoot her a quick text to let her know I’ll call her later and walk over to meet Easton.
“They only had rooms with one bed left. I hope that’s okay.” He gives me a sheepish look.
“We both know I’ll end up in bed with you anyway. Two would be a waste.”
“You better watch what you say this weekend.”
I roll my eyes. “Or what? Someone might get the wrong idea? Do you think I’m worried?” It pisses me off that he’s concerned about what his brother might think, after what he did to me. I want Sutton to hurt.
Easton’s face grows hard, his jaw muscle jumping under the stubble lining his cheeks. “He was just as broken over this as you were.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. “I doubt it. I’m not the one that cheated. I’m not the one with a child.”
“Shh.” He steps closer and scoots me into the elevator. “Don’t get all worked up about it now.”
“Sorry. I’m done.”
We take a short elevator ride and get out on the tenth floor. Easton lets us in the room and tells me to start getting ready. I want to crawl into bed and never come out, but I don’t think Emily would ever forgive me.
Easton throws the suitcases on the bed. I unzip mine and take out a few options to wear to the rehearsal.
“Which one?” I ask, holding up both the choices.
“Where’s the rest?”
“I only bought two dresses for tonight.”
“No,” he says, walking toward me. “The rest of the fabric.” His brows are scrunch up as he tugs on the dresses, like they’ll magically grow if he pulls on them.
“This is it.”
“Neither.”
“I have to wear one of them.”
He laughs. “I don’t think so. The pink one is too short and I think your tits might pop out of that black one.”
“Shut up. Which one?”
He cocks his head to the side, eying the dresses. “Is this for my brother’s benefit?”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Those dresses are so far out of your comfort zone it’s not even funny.”
“Which one, Easton?”
“Pink,” he answers, his jaw flexing so hard I’m scared he’ll crack his molars.
“I’ll be in the shower.”
I take my time in there, shaving, exfoliating, and putting lotion on every part of my body that needs it. I apply my make up with a heavier hand than normal and put a few extra waves in my hair.
Easton’s face is neutral when I step out of the room. “I don’t know if I should let you out of here looking like that.”
“That bad?”
He shakes his head. “You seriously don’t realize how beautiful you are, do you? You never have.” He closes the gap between us and pulls me in for a hug, his lips going to the shell of my ear. “You look gorgeous.” He looks down and then back up at me, smiling. “Just don’t bend over.”
I swat him on his chest. “We better get going.”
He slips on his suit jacket and we make the short drive to the beach house. I push back the memories of the time I visited. It looks different here, now that Grandpa Daniel is gone. Toys and children’s trinkets replace the books and breakables that used to be scattered throughout. There’s no one inside, but the back door is open and voices can be heard outside over the soft strains of music. One voice is more prominent than the rest. It’s one that I hear every night in my sleep.
I stop before I reach the back door, unable to take another step. I was insane to think I could handle this.
“Estella,” he calls. “Don’t you go near the water. You’ll ruin your dress.”
His voice causes sparks to dance along my skin. I close my eyes, not wanting to chance seeing him pass in front of the door or one of the many windows lining the back wall of the house.
“Estella Winters,” he repeats. My heart clenches. He’s trying to sound tough but there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.
God, I miss him.
A tiny voice can be heard laughing, and he joins in. She squeals and screams, her twinkling laughter dancing along the wind and making its way inside the house. Despite my better judgement, I open my eyes. He’s standing right off the back deck, throwing his daughter in the air. She’s giggling, yelling for him to toss her higher. He cradles her to his chest and turns toward the house.
Our eyes lock and I stop breathing.
We stand motionless, staring at each other. When my lungs start to burn, I remember the need for air and pull in a huge breath. His chest is rising and falling quickly, too, and I don’t think it has anything to do with him throwing his tiny daughter in the air. I turn to go back the way I came, Easton stopping me in my tracks.
Easton, my best friend.
The boy who would never hurt me.
Easton, who looks at me like I mean the world to him.
I don’t know if he sees the pain written across my face, senses what I’m feeling on the inside, but he takes my face in his hands and pushes his mouth gently against mine. As soon as the kiss starts, though, he pulls away. He looks confused as to why he did it. If I had to guess, I have a similar look on my face.
We both may be confused, but it also felt good. For a second, he made me forget everything. I want that feeling again.
“Please,” I beg.
He doesn’t make me ask again.
Our mouths collide. His tongue slips against mine and we devour each other. His kiss makes me forget everything that’s bad and wrong and terrible in my life. Everything is wiped away except for thoughts of him. His kiss makes me feel good. I never want to stop.
All I know in this moment is Easton.
“Get your fucking hands off of her!”
&n
bsp; I jump, from both the words and from the fact that Easton’s being pulled away from me by Sutton. Easton’s kiss made me forget he was here, that he was the reason we started kissing in the first place. Sutton looks like he’s about to kill his brother.
“Don’t touch me,” he snarls.
They’re both breathing hard, chests touching. I look around the room for his daughter, but she’s nowhere in sight.
“You don’t get to touch her,” Sutton says, a finger poking Easton in the chest.
Easton stands taller, his voice grows colder. “You lost the right to tell me that when you slept with someone else. She’s not yours anymore.”
Neither of us expects Sutton’s fist to connect with his face. The sound it produces causes me to scream.
“You were supposed to take care of her,” Sutton yells, grabbing him by the jacket and wrestling him down to the floor, “not take her from me.”
Easton flips him on his back and lands a hit to his face. “I didn’t take her. You lost her.” He pegs him in the mouth, sending blood sputtering all over the couch just as Emily and Mrs. Vera come running in the room.
They both start screaming, Emily because they’re ruining her rehearsal dinner, Mrs. Vera for her husband to come break up the fight. The two brothers match each other punch for punch until their father comes in and pulls them apart, barely missing getting waylaid by his sons. All I can do is stand in the corner with my arms wrapped around my middle. I’m sick over what I’m seeing, what I’ve done.
“What the hell is going on?” Doc growls, holding them at arm’s length, a hand to each of their chests.
Sutton shakes his head and spits, blood flying. “How could you keep this from me? You let him take her and didn’t think I needed to know?”
“What are you talking about?” Doc is struggling to keep Sutton from going after his brother again.
“The two of them,” he snarls. “They were going at it right here in my damn living room.”
Easton stays silent but keeps his eyes on me.
Doc shakes his head. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but they’re just friends.”