“Ever?” I ask, gaping up at him. His silence has me sputtering as I realize just how much of himself he’s bared to me. “Easton, oh my God, Easton, I’m so sorry. I’m honored and…f-flattered and completely unworthy. Jesus,” my eyes water with guilt as I make my decision. “You’re right. You deserve better. So much fucking better.”
The side of his jaw ticks as he flicks his gaze back to mine, trying to get a read on me.
“Will you take a walk with me? Please. Before you leave pissed and decide you hate me, at least let me give you a better reason to.”
He remains silent, his jaw like granite as I stand.
“Take a walk with me, Easton, please.”
He gives me a cautious, slow nod as our waitress walks over and grabs his credit card. Eyes on Easton, I raise a hand to stop her. “Please charge it to my room, 212. Natalie Butler.”
Pocketing his card, Easton pulls out a large bill and hands it to her for a tip. She takes it with thanks, failing miserably at concealing a flirtatious grin. “You two have a great night.”
Come Undone
Carina Round
Natalie
It’s close to midnight as a silent, brooding Easton walks next to me along a short pier a few blocks from my hotel. Dots of brightly lit houses surround the water in the distance as I figuratively walk the plank toward whatever disaster lies ahead. As sleep deprived as I am and have been this past week, I’m surprisingly alert. As we reach the end of the pier, I palm the railing, wondering if I jumped in now, how far I would make it.
Sensing my hesitance, Easton steps closer to me, his quiet electricity surrounding me as I try to think of a way to explain my actions.
“Are you tired?” He asks softly, surprising me by speaking first, and with concern for me before darting his gaze to the dark water.
“Not really. I was just thinking that. You?”
“No.”
“Either way, I’ll see myself back to my hotel. I’m sure you have more important things to do than babysit me.”
“Kind of necessary since I’m parked there.”
A burst of tense laughter escapes me, and I shake my head at my idiocy. “Maybe not tired, but it’s clear I’m in dire need of sleep.”
Turning, I step up on the wooden base hitching my arms on the railing. The breeze whips around my face, a few strands inevitably sticking to my freshly glossed lips. Just as I lift my hand to free it, Easton grips my arm, moving to stand in front of me. Stunned and immobile, he cups my jaw before running a sure thumb over my lips, completely wiping all traces of the gloss away. A stuttered breath leaves me as he leans in, palming my stomach before sliding his hand into the pocket of my jeans. Glancing down, I watch him retrieve my gloss before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. I gape at him in disbelief. “What the hell?”
He shrugs. “Seemed like the easiest fucking solution.”
“Yeah, but you see,” I manage to get out as he inches closer, “you just erased all the allure.”
“Not fucking possible,” he whispers heatedly, eyes probing as my libido lights fire, his every word stoking it. He dips dangerously close, and I palm his chest, determined to get my confession out. He steps back, his posture rigid.
I glance back at the water briefly to stop myself from tossing caution to the wind and giving in to my desire before looking back up at him. “You want honesty? I’ve never been so attracted to a man in my life.”
He stares down at me, expression unwavering as if that’s not news.
Tough room.
“But if I entertain it, it will be the second-worst thing I’ve ever done.”
His jaw ticks as I start to defend that statement.
“However, not for the reasons you might think. I asked you to walk with me because I’m going to try to explain myself. I’ve just been stalling because I know when I do, you might turn around, walk away, and never speak to me again—and you’ll be well within your rights to.” I wince. “You probably should.”
His brows lift. “That bad?”
“For me, in my heart,” I press my hand where it lays, “it feels like the worst thing I’ve ever done, especially now, because I like you a lot, and I don’t want to deceive you another minute.”
“You’re not here for an interview,” he delivers with a relaxed tone.
I nod.
“I gathered that much,” he utters simply. “So, this is about our parents?”
I nod again. “Partially, but not for the reasons you might think. How mad are you?”
“You’re pretty transparent, Natalie. So, I’m more fucking relieved than anything.”
“Well, don’t be,” I blow out a harsh breath. “Our gossip columnist is still going to run a story Monday speculating you’re coming out with a debut album. That’s out of my hands…and it’s out of my hands because I can’t…no, I won’t protect you.”
He rakes his lip with his teeth, eyes cooling considerably.
“Reason being, if I try to stop her from running it, questions will be raised by both her and my father, who will demand an explanation as to why I’m protecting you.” I swallow. “Reasons I can’t give because I’m not allowed to and was never supposed to know you, Easton.” I test the waters. “How angry are you now?”
“I’m still standing here,” he clips out.
“Well, you are partially right in your assessment,” I admit in a whisper. “I didn’t come here to meet you as a reporter…but as the child of the other half of a broken love story between our parents.”
“Guess you’ve got a story now,” he grits out with a venomous bite.
“Despite the fact that you shouldn’t trust me at all at this point, I won’t use a single word of what you told me, even if it could boost circulation and my career. I’ve already decided that.”
He remains in front of me, his profile backlit by a nearby dock light.
“The truth is, it was never my story to begin with. I got the information from my columnist and used it as an excuse to meet you.” I palm my face briefly. “Jesus, yeah, it sounds really, really, bad out loud.”
He remains mute, demanding the rest of my explanation.
“I told you that something happened recently that threw me off.”
A slow nod.
“The thing that happened is…fuck it,” I shake my head, deciding not to attempt to arrange the words and just let them fly. “I was digging through Austin Speak’s archives for excerpts of stories for our thirtieth-anniversary edition of the paper and, in doing so, stumbled upon emails between my father and your mother. Some of them were very personal emails, and it did something to me…I can’t really explain it, which is pathetic because I’m supposed to excel at describing through words.”
Easton’s expression remains unreadable. Unsure if he’s about to turn away in disgust, I rush through the rest of my explanation.
“At first, I only read a few. The beginning of their relationship and the end. I was stunned to discover they’d dated at all. As close as my father and I are, he’s never once mentioned it. Anyway, I guess you could say that once I read them, they created an alternate universe. Like,” I swallow, “like everything I knew about my parents, their history, and the fact that they even exist is more thanks to a decision on someone else’s part rather than the soulmates, kismet type of thing I’ve always believed. The truth is, if our parents had stayed together, they would be living entirely different lives.” I cringe. “Jesus, I know I sound like a lunatic. Especially since, in that alternate universe, you and I don’t exist.” My chest flutters with awareness and ache. “They loved each other, Easton, your mother, my father, they were really, really, fucking in love, and not for just a few months, for years. It was serious, and what I read rocked me to my core. It shook my beliefs. It made me question a lot. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why I’m taking it so personally or why it hurts me so much. I mean…everyone has exes, right?”