Mister Wrong

It was so entwined with hers, I couldn’t tell what was me and what was her anymore.

It was like trying to untangle a ball of yarn the size of the Empire State Building without having a clue as to where the end was sticking out. If there was an end to begin with, because it didn’t feel like there was. It felt like an unending loop, no end and no beginning, when I thought about my life with Cora.

If that was true, I was going to have to create one. I needed to take a knife and cut through the tangled mess if I had any hope for a somewhat normal life after this.

After marrying my brother’s fiancée. After saying “I do” to the woman I’d spent the better part of my life loving from a distance. After experiencing her body and sharing mine with her. After her choosing him all over again.

Some people claimed people like Cora would be the death of them. I knew better though. Death would be a relief contrasted to the next fifty years of life spent without her.

I wished she’d be the death of me already, because I wasn’t sure I wanted my life if it meant not having her in it. In some way. In any way. I’d learned not to be picky when it came to time with her.

If I stared at that damn ceiling for a minute more, thinking about her, I was going to lose my mind. Rolling up in bed, I checked the time. It was as dark outside as it was inside my cabin, which meant it had gotten late. It was almost ten. More than eight hours had passed since I walked out of her hotel room, leaving her with the Adams brother she’d chosen. Again. I shouldn’t have been surprised; it wasn’t anything new. I shouldn’t have felt so damn wronged—I was the one who’d set this whole train wreck into motion when I shrugged into Jacob’s tux.

She hadn’t come looking for me. She hadn’t called. She hadn’t sent a message. She hadn’t wanted me.

Big fucking surprise.

What did I expect? I’d always been Plan B in her life, and after how I’d lied to her with the whole groom-swap thing, why would she have any reason to pick me over Jacob?

The devil you knew was better than the one you didn’t.

That was what I kept telling myself as I checked my email on the off chance she’d written me a lengthy message instead. Nothing.

It confirmed my decision to book a flight out of there tomorrow. She might be confused about what had happened between us, but she knew the way she felt about Jacob. This battle for her would end the same as the rest—I’d lose.

A knock on the cabin door shook me from my thoughts. I knew three people on this island at present, but I guessed only one of them would be standing outside my door right now. She was probably here to show her support, give me a kick in the ass, and try to distract me from my dark mood.

After sliding out of bed, I padded across the cabin toward the door. It had started raining a few hours ago, and it sounded like a sad song playing on my roof, echoing into the dark space.

When I pulled the door open, I knew my eyes were deceiving me. Or my mind was. The woman I thought I saw standing in front of me could not be the one who was really there. I just stood there for a moment, my chest moving as I stared at the woman who had been the creator of every high in my life, and the reason for every low.

“Matt . . .”

When she said my name, I knew I wasn’t seeing things or imagining her. Her hair and bathrobe were wet from the rain, her skin gleaming and prickled with goose bumps. Her light eyes lit up the dark, looking as though they’d been through their own storm tonight.

She was here. In front of me. Inches away.

It was the scenario I’d always hoped for, but it was for a different reason than the one I needed. She was here to make sure I was all right. I’d tell her I was of course, then she’d walk away, back to him, and nothing would be all right.

“What do you want, Cora?” My hands curled into the doorway above my head. I needed support. I wasn’t sure I could keep standing on my own two feet any longer. “I’m tired—exhausted. You and me.” My head shook slowly. “I can’t keep doing this.”

She slid a step closer. Then another. Her eyes ran up my body until they finished on mine. There was a look in them I’d never seen before, one I didn’t have a name for. All I knew was that looking at her looking at me gave me a current of hope where none had been.

Her hands spread over my stomach, and her fingers curled into me. Her touch felt like a shockwave reverberating through me until I felt nothing else.

“Neither can I,” she whispered, moving closer again so her body was pressed against the length of mine.

Her words hadn’t finished forming before her mouth crashed into mine. I was so surprised by it, I staggered back, and she fell back with me. Forming my arms around her, I regained my footing long enough to kick the door closed before I backed her into the room.

This could have been a dream. This could have been reality. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was there with her now. I wasn’t going to waste a moment second-guessing or punching pause to consider if this was right or wrong.

Her arms tied around my neck as I lifted her, my own arms winding around her body like I was trying to find the best hold. As though I were trying to figure out a way to hold on to her without ever letting go.

Her lips moved against mine in feverish, random pulses until I couldn’t breathe. As I lowered her onto the bed, I pulled back just enough so I could look her in the eyes. She stared right back, no measure of doubt or guilt consuming them.

“Tell me you’re here because you want to be with me.” I crawled up the bed with her in my arms, feeling the wet from her clothes seep into mine, feeling her chest move hard against mine from the way we were both breathing. “Tell me you’re here because you want me.”

When Cora’s head was settled into a pillow, I leaned back so I was hovering above her, knees pinned over her lap, eyes aimed at the single most perfect sight I’d ever seen. Her in my bed, having chosen me, staring at me like I was the only one who could give her what she needed.

Her hand found mine, and her palm pressed into mine before she braided our fingers together. The ring was gone. The engagement ring, the wedding band—they were both gone.

“I’m here because I want to be with you.” Her other hand slid my hair back from my forehead. “I want you, Matt.”

When I exhaled, I felt purged. All at once. Instantly. From all of the false hopes and pain, the secret longing and ache.

Cora worked my shirt up my body, furious and fast. Once she’d pulled it off her hands moved over me in the same fashion. My chest crashed back down over hers, the ache between my legs so intense I felt as if I could blackout. When I pivoted my hips into hers, the ache receded just enough for my vision to clear. Cora gasped, pumping her hips into mine again, her cold, wet legs twisting around my back.

My mouth found hers. Our tongues collided together as though we were racing against time, the end of the world moments away.

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