Wright with Benefits (Wright Series #8) - K.A. Linde Page 0,68

I realized I was wrong about everything. How could I marry someone else when my heart would always belong to you?”

I slapped his hand away as he tried to touch me. “No,” I said again, tears coming to my eyes. “You don’t mean any of that.”

“I do. I always have. You’re my forever girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” I gasped.

It was what he’d called me when we made our pact. His forever girl. I’d cherished that thought for so long, and now, he was demolishing it.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad. We made that pact. We said we’d end up together.”

“That was a decade ago,” I shouted at him. “We were eighteen and fucking stupid, Chase. We didn’t know what would happen. We just couldn’t let go yet, and you were leaving. You were always leaving me, and I needed reassurance that it wouldn’t be forever.”

“And it doesn’t have to be,” he said, raising his voice to meet my hysteria.

“This is only because of Jordan.”

Chase wrinkled his nose. “I mean, I’m not thrilled that you’re dating him, a Wright. But it’s about you, Annie.”

“No, see, you found out I was serious with someone. You saw us together at the Super Bowl party, and you decided you didn’t like that I was happy with someone else other than you.” I wrenched my purse off of the ground. “Well, too late, Chase. If you wanted to be with me, then you should have manned up and asked me before I fell in love with someone else, and not when you see your safety net closing.”

“Annie!” he called as I stormed toward the door. He jogged after me, catching me by the elbow. “Please, I love you. You can’t…you can’t love him.”

But I did. I just hadn’t been able to admit it to myself until this moment. Wasn’t Chase Sinclair just revelatory for my relationship?

“Good-bye, Chase.”

Then I yanked the door and stepped out, leaving behind my best friend and the man I’d always thought I was going to marry.

30

Annie

By the time I cooled off from my confrontation with Chase, Jordan was off work. I really, really needed to go over there and talk to him. The last few days, he’d been MIA. He still answered texts, but I hadn’t seen him since his mom’s revelation.

Can I come over?

I wanted to tell him what had happened. I wanted to talk to him about the rank situation. I just…I just needed him.

Kind of beat. Just going to crash.

My face dropped.

I could just snuggle you?

Just want to be alone tonight.

My heart constricted. I didn’t want him to want to be alone. I wanted him to want to be held and comforted. Not that I had any clue what to do if he didn’t want me there. I could just show up. I didn’t want him to get mad, but I just didn’t know what to do.

So, I let him sleep alone that night.

I slept in my empty bed and hoped that he’d come around tomorrow.

He didn’t come around the next day.

Or the day after that.

I saw him only briefly when I showed up at the office to check on him. And he was the same Jordan…except that he wasn’t. There was something dark and heavy lingering around him.

He didn’t want company. He wasn’t good company. And he quickly ushered me back out of the office.

I knew he had to work twice as much with the winery friend-and-family event this weekend, and apparently, all the reps for the soccer complex had come in for meetings. He was working around the clock, and the stress must have been insane. But I’d never know because he was too busy to talk to me.

I was at my rope’s end when I decided I needed an intervention to figure this out. It was outside of my wheelhouse. I needed to talk to someone who had been there.

With school in session, the parking lot in front of the Death by Chocolate was packed. I had to circle the block twice to find a spot and idle until the person backed out. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed inside. It smelled like sugary goodness and looked like a Wonka creation, like I could eat everything in sight.

I stepped across the black-and-white tiled floor, past a group of undergrads lingering over their laptops at one of the French macaron–inspired tables and fruit-tart chairs. Noise-canceling headphones dangled from their necks while they chatted and had their heads in their phones. It did