“Me neither,” I promised him, leaning forward and pressing my lips against his head. “Me neither.”
I wanted the ring. Wanted the title. Wanted the forever. I gently worked the ring loose and held it, setting the box on the nightstand. Rolling the platinum setting in my fingers, the unique diamond stone glinting at me. Blue, a color I had never seen on a diamond. Not too large. Two to three perfect, unmarred carats. Flawless. It would be the only thing in our union unflawed and honest, with nothing to hide. It didn’t deserve us. It deserved an innocent bride marrying a man with nothing in his eyes but love. But maybe those were the couples who got the imperfect, thousand-dollar Zales specials. Maybe the perfect, priceless diamonds were reserved for trophy wives and cheating husbands. Trust fund babies with mistresses on the side. People like me. And Brant. Maybe this diamond evened out our deficiencies with a few carats of retaliating perfection. I slid the diamond on, the fit perfect, the glow of it warm against my skin. I rolled, ran my hand along the back of Brant, his tan skin the perfect backdrop to the diamond I would never wear. Then I leaned forward, kissed his skin, and curled up against his warmth, the weight of the ring comforting. I closed my eyes and dreamt of perfection.
At some point, in the dusk of morning, before the sun fully exposed our room, I pulled off the ring and carefully returned it. Set it back in his suitcase, its spot nestled between sunscreen and a rolled socks. Then I crawled back into bed. Mourned its loss. And wondered, for a brief moment, if Molly had called Marcus. It was a black thought in a perfect day, but Lee wouldn’t leave my head. He stalked my dreams. Dominated my imagination. Pulled on me with insistent hands whenever my mind had an uncontrolled moment. I should have forgotten him. I should have left him and Molly to their life of apparent bliss. But I couldn’t. Instead, I was moving closer. Intertwining my life with his until I couldn’t tell when mine with Brant ended, and mine with his began.
A dangerous game. One that was fixing to get worse. Much worse.
Chapter 33
I ran along sand, my stride used to the give, my speed even as I dug through deep places and pounded wet footprints through receding surf. The beach was smoother than home, less rocks, more picturesque. At this time of morning, I was alone. A few towel boys, setting up chairs, nothing else. Solitude. The wash of water cleansing my thoughts.
I was lost. It was official. Turned around to the point where I didn’t know if I was climbing uphill or down. My obsession, my game with Lee? It was a losing, impossible direction. I knew that. I knew that the smartest thing, the safest thing to do, would be to ignore him. Let him live his life. And stay on my side of town. With Brant. I didn’t love Lee. I loved Brant. Lee was… a distraction. A distraction that fucked me as if he was created to do it. A distraction that gave me another side of life, away from the finery, a side of life filled with impulse and fun. A distraction that I needed to keep the seesaw of my relationship with Brant level.
I pushed harder, my breath ragged as I took out my frustration on my muscles. Pumped my arms and gasped as I took my run faster, slipping in the sand at times, my calves burning as I sprinted through the sand.
Faster. Faster. I ran until my heart hurt and my lungs broke. Until I sank in the sand, my knees hitting the wet suck, my chest heaving as I flopped on my back. Closed my eyes and wished for California sand underneath my back.
It didn’t work. I stayed in that place until my heart rate calmed, my chest stilled. Then I rolled over, tried my best to brush the sand from my back, and headed home. To Brant. To the life I should be living.
“Would you live here?”
I glanced up and shot Brant a quizzical look.
He shrugged. Sat back in his chair, the Hawaiian coastline painting an impressive backdrop behind him. “I was just thinking, maybe we should spend a few months here. Maybe half the year, spend the winters here.”
“What about the company?”
He shrugged. “I could work from here. Convert the garage into a workshop. Maybe hire a few locals to help during project times.”
I grinned. “A few locals? It took you five years to find Frank.” Frank, the only BSX tech who had survived Brant’s idiosyncrasies long enough to learn how to not piss him off.
“Then we could bring Frank.” He smirked, reached over and grabbed my hand. “I like vacation Layana.”
I rolled my eyes. Let him pull my hand to his lips. “What is vacation Layana like?”
He pursed his lips. Tilted his head as if to think. “Carefree.”
“Carefree? What am I, a Teletubby?” I threw the remaining piece of my muffin in his direction.
“Fine. Not carefree. Less uptight.” He raised his eyebrows at me.