All I can guess is that she loved him very much. “Pan,” I say softly, “the guy who hurt you so bad . . . he wasn’t the only guy you’ll ever love.”
I don’t even know what else to say because I’m no expert on feeling like this—I can barely stand the way I feel for Greyson and I’m afraid to call it love. I feel even more awkward when we stop at Brooke’s hotel and the cabdriver complains, “Ma’am, you either in or out?” so I quickly step out and shout at her, “I’ll see you later. Watch a comedy!”
She flips me off as the cab takes her away, and I smile and wave. But as I get on the elevator, I just don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore except that a couple of months ago I didn’t know Greyson King. How can I miss him so bad now?
You’re in my veins, you fuck.
You’re in me one moment, you’re lost the next. You take me, you leave me, and I still wait, trembling for you to come back and do it again.
Ugh. When are you coming back?
Brooke swings the door of her suite open and babbles out, “I want deets and I want them now!” pulling me into the first bedroom, away from the group of guys in the living room.
She sits me down at the edge of a bed and then plants her hands on her hips like some demanding angel-bitch, her eyes gleeful with excitement. “Tell me. Tell me all about him!”
I laugh in excitement but then I groan and jab a finger into her chest. “I’m experiencing some déjà vu, except the poor sucker thinking she’d fallen for a guy who may be wrong for her was you.”
“Omigod, you love him, Mel?”
I can’t believe how hard it is to talk about him, even with my best friend. Sighing, I drop on the bed and pat the place next to me so she settles down close.
Love didn’t feel like this when I imagined I’d fall in love. Love was exciting and precious in my mind, not frightening and unexpected.
Brooke and I lie on our sides facing each other, smiling like we’ve done the thousand times we’ve spilled out secrets and fantasies and more. “Brookey, am I lovable like that? The forever kind? I’m good for fun, but do you think . . . Sometimes I think Greyson just doesn’t want to involve me in other parts of his life. I wonder if I’m just a sex toy to him, like I’ve been to every other man, but then he calls me, or then he gives me this . . .” I touch the diamond necklace hiding under my silky shirt. “He just looks at me in this way . . . I don’t know, there’s not even a word for that look. But Remy gives it to you too. It’s the BEST look. It gives me heat and heart palpitations and butterflies. And if you saw him with my parents, how he was laughing while we did our stupid Sunday games. I just refuse to believe that I don’t mean something to him, you know? He says I’m his girl.”
Brooke laughs and sits, hugging me briefly. “Mel, you’re fun and sweet, loyal and honest. You’ve got so much love to give. You love everyone, even strangers. You’re my little love bug. He’s lucky you not only get to love him, but you get to fall in love with him.” Her eyes light with excitement as she squeezes my shoulders. “Melanie, you’ve found your prince. He’s not even a prince, turns out he’s a king. Do you realize you’ve talked about this faceless, nameless guy since you were seven?”
“Dude, I’ve waited all my life to feel like this and now that I do, I don’t want to. I feel unstable, unsafe, vulnerable, happy, and yet worried it’s not going to last.”
“No! No, no, no, don’t hold back. Is Pandora poisoning your head? Mel, OWN THIS. Own how you feel. Tell him. Go after him. Go after what you want. You’ve always gone after it—you won’t back down now that you found it!”
“You say that now ’cause you’re no longer a chicken! You know Remington loves you. You know he loves you so much he’s never letting you go. If something happens, you’ll work it out and you both know it. He’ll fight for you and you will for him. But me? I don’t know what Greyson feels. He wants to be with me and then he’s gone for days. Whatever we have, it could be real or it could be something passing like—”
“Lust,” a low voice by the door says.
I lift my head to spot Riley Cole at the threshold, Remington’s coach’s second, looking cute as ever. Riley and I are great friends. We’ve gotten into a lot of mischief in the few times we’ve met after a Riptide fight, and not just sexually.
He’s a guy used to guarding secrets. I know, because when I tried to dig out all of Remington Tate’s secrets when he was pursuing Brooke like a battering ram, all Riley said to me was that he’d never seen Remington go after a woman the way he went after Brooke.
So Riley’s definitely a man who knows how to keep a secret. Including, thank god, mine.
Brooke has always said he looks like a sad surfer boy, and she’s right, he does. Which works for him. But tonight he looks more like Pandora’s angry blond twin brother, scowling at me with the same scowl he wore the day he first met me.
“What’s up with you?” I ask him, returning his scowl with one of my own.
“If this boyfriend of yours ever hurts you, we’ll take care of it.” He cracks his knuckles, and instead of making me scared on Greyson’s behalf, the sound makes me laugh.
“You mean you’ll take care of it, or Remy?” I say as I stand, hearing his quiet, familiar chuckle.
“Okay, you got me. Maybe I’ll bring Rem along just for intimidation purposes,” he says jokingly, but his smirk fades into a flat line of displeasure. “No one hurts you, Melanie. Or I punch him. I don’t care how many times I need to punch him to make him bleed, but I’ll make him bleed.”
I laugh as Brooke pulls me out to the living room so I can see her precious baby.