I set the phone down, thinking fast. “We can camp on the main level tonight. There’s a library with a fireplace and a comfy couch. No freezing to death upstairs.”
She shot me a look. “We are not sharing a couch.”
“I never suggested we share,” I quickly corrected. “You’d probably punch me in your sleep, Frosty. We’ll set up cots like two extremely respectable adults on opposite sides of the room.”
“Frosty?” She tried not to smile. Failed. Barely.
I could’ve basked here with her for hours in this fragile moment. She opened up to me slightly. Should I take a chance that this was the window I needed to address the past? Would she finally discuss what exactly had happened? Or, like the runaway bride she was that day, would she sprint right out into the storm just to avoid the truth?
9
WARMING UP
HOLDEN
At the riskof her lobbing another spatula at my head, I began.
“Lilah, there’s something I need to explain about your wedding day with Brad.”
She picked at the remains of her sandwich, and avoided looking at me, but didn’t tell me to stop.
I swallowed hard. “Please understand?—”
“I heard plenty that day. We don’t need to discuss it.”
“No. You jumped to conclusions.”
Stubbornly, she glanced away, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. But she didn’t leave, so I continued.
“I barely knew you then. We’d only met once before. I didn’t know how to tell you the things I knew about Brad. I was stuck between protecting one of my oldest friends, but knowing what he did wasn’t right.” I hung my head and thought of the night Brad and I had first met Lilah.
We’d partied in Ibiza with some other friends. Lilah was the young assistant chef on the yacht we’d chartered, and her work ethic impressed me. Vivacious and skilled, she rose to the challenge to feed us entitled rich guys. Every single time I locked eyes with her icy blues, my insides turned over. Never had Iexperienced such an instant connection like it with another woman.
All the signs of her interest in me were there, or so I thought, and I’d planned to make my move by the second night onboard—except I found Brad with her, talking on the bow. They were lost, deep in conversation, bonding over their passion for cuisine, and his family’s international restaurant business.
I noticed the look in his eyes when he was with her. So I backed off, letting him have her—a decision I regretted over the years. Where might we be today if I hadn’t?
Then again, at that age, I had recovered from my fall down the mountain, and then buried myself in partying night and day. Reeling from losing all hope of Olympic glory, the last thing on my mind was anything like a relationship.
But now…?
“If you recall, I had brought an old college friend of ours as a date to the wedding. Chantal was my plus one,” I continued explaining to Lilah about the events of her wedding day.
Her jaw tightened. “Chantal? How could I forget? Brad and I had the worst fight ever after the rehearsal dinner since he could barely keep his eyes off of her. And when they blatantly flirted with each other right in front of me?—”
She stopped herself and turned away, cheeks flaming red. Good to know she had a jealous streak.
“Yeah, I was there, remember?” I continued. “Only I swear, I had no idea Brad and Chantal had been hooking up for years, even while he was seeing you.”
“It was a complete shock to find out that my fiancé wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“When he admitted to their ongoing affair, it made sense then why she talked me into taking her as my date.”
Lilah snapped her attention back to me, eyes on fire. “Your voices carried while I waited for my dad to come get me andwalk me down the aisle. You wanted to set Brad and her up to be together the night of our wedding?—”
“No, I made a joke,” I retorted, voice raised and agitated. She flinched. “A sarcastic, stupid, poorly timed one.”
“You said, ‘Should I arrange a rendezvous for you and Chantal after you put your bride to bed?’ That’s what I heard. How could you?” Her eyes watered, angry and hurt, and it was all I could do not to reach for her.
