Chapter 11
Melinda
The bottle of wine was gone. My vision started to blur around the edges, but I wasn’t drunk. I was buzzed. I was the perfect in−between. Not too drunk, not too sober, but just right to deal with Chris's presence.
Okay, if I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn’t have to pretend at all after we came into the chalet. We caught up. We laughed. We told secrets that no one else in this world knew to one another. He was different. I was still on defense, but tonight shook all my walls I built up around myself and slowly, throughout the night, they cracked and crumbled, the more I heard his laugh, felt his hand on my shoulder or thigh. It was small touches, nothing to be alarmed about, but enough for my heart to pump in overtime.
“I guess this is goodnight,” he said, walking me to the bedroom I’d be staying in.
I leaned against the door, gripping the handle to help keep me on my own two feet—not because I was tipsy—but because of the butterflies floating around in my stomach, almost causingmeto float.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s been … surprisingly fun,” I said, a deep, slightly unbelievable sound leaving my lips.
He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked on his feet. “Yeah, it has.” A few awkward seconds passed, and he scratched the back of his head, giving me a sideways smirk that tingled the space between my legs. A dimple formed on his cheek, and those straight white teeth gleamed. He lifted his arms above his head and grabbed the trim lining the doorway. My eyes drifted down when his shirt lifted, showing a tease of his abdominal muscles.
Remember, he is your enemy. You do not like him.
Or find him attractive. Nothing about him was attractive.
Except for everything.
Our eyes met, and the flames from the fireplace still danced in the background, reflecting off the light grey of his irises. He leaned forward like he wanted to say something else, but all I could do was focus on his lips, how they were a perfect size, curving in the middle to give them a pouty look. I bet women lined up for miles just for a chance to get a taste.
I took a step back before he could get any closer. “I should—” I pointed toward the bed.
“Right, yeah. Me too. I’ll see you in the morning, Melinda.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you,” I twisted the doorknob in my hand, the cold metal cooling my palm as I pushed the wood closed. We kept eye contact, letting whatever happened tonight pass between us. Everything had shifted. I was off−balance, teetering closer to him, and still, at the end of the night, whatever that was passing between us would eventually do just that—pass.
Chris didn’t move, didn’t blink, just stared at me as I shut the door, effectively putting a barrier between us, and shutting out the building tension. What kind of tension? Well, with how my body was responding, I just knew it was the kind that would lead nowhere good.
Or it would be good, but the aftermath wouldn’t be.
Another playboy. Not that I’d seen that side of him, but his arrogance coupled with what the press had to say about him…a playboy.
I took a deep breath and placed my palm over my racing heart. I was finally able to breathe. “Whew,” I said, touching my flaming hot cheek. “It’s the wine. It has to be the wine. And the fire.” I took a step forward, shucked off my shoes, and groaned when my toes finally had space to move. The floorboards were cold, but this place was still warm, if not warm enough. Chris had kept the heating on. At least he’d rememberedthateven if his car cranking had been forgotten.
I peeked in the mirror and shook my blonde hair. It smelled of smoke, the wild kind, and my shirt smelled like wine from when I spilled some of it, but even between all those scents, I still smelled ofhim.
It was maddening.
I ripped my shirt over my head and wiggled out of my pants until I was in my bra and panties and jumped into bed, watching the blades of the fan spin in a circle.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.The blades spoke, trying to play a lullaby to sing me to sleep.
There was no use. I was wide awake even with a half a bottle of red wine coursing through my system, pumping my blood of lust and hope and dreams.
“Ugh,” I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over my face, stifling a scream. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. My cold suppressed feelings for Chris were thawing, turning me into a hot and bothered pile of mush.
“You need to get out of this chalet and off this mountain,” I told myself, recalling every moment tonight had brought.
When he spoke about his brother and his father, my heart went out to him, and I wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I had placed my hand on top of his, trying to reassure him that he wasn’t alone, and hours had gone by with our hands intertwined. It had felt too good, too natural, too right.
So, I did my best to ignore it as he went on and on about his father’s alcoholism and how it ended up killing him, all because his mother left. It opened a Segway for me to talk more about how my father, too, turned to bourbon when my mother died. I supposed in a way she left also. I didn’t have siblings to worry about. I only had to worry about myself when my dad decided not to show for things. The important things, like high school graduation and my first college acceptance letter. It sounded stupid, but I didn’t have anyone to share that with, that moment of pure happiness. All that hard work had paid off. And I had worked hard for a reason--I knew no matter how rich my father was and how much he cared about me on some level or other, I was alone in this world. I had my maid and butler, and I'd found Lindsey in college, but growing up, I knew I didn't have a family to come home to. No one to hold me up. Daddy usually wasn't there, and when he was, he was often drunk.
I was alone when I tore that acceptance letter open. And that was when Ireallyknew I’d always been alone when it sunk in that counting on my dad had not been an option for years.
Chris felt that way too, especially with his brother being so off the rails right now. It seemed both of us were a bit lost right now and trying to find where we fit in life. Yet, finding it together wasn’t an option.
