I want to stay pissed at her, but I want to carry her to my bed and feel the warmth of her body next to me all night even more. Running a hand through my hair, I pull away and slip an arm around her waist to steady her as she turns to face me.
Brooklyn searches my eyes as if she’s waiting for me to say something…or maybe she has something to say herself, but in the end she doesn’t. Goosebumps rise on her body and I quickly retrieve her robe and wrap it around her shoulders. The moment is over, the possessive jealousy fucked right out of me. But I still want her.
Even as she walks quietly away to her room, I wish she would turn around and run into my arms.
But she doesn’t. And I don’t do anything to stop her.
Brooklyn
Chapter 25
The wedding is tomorrow.
We’re at the rehearsal dinner and I’m on my second glass of champagne to help steady my nerves, but it’s not working.
It feels as if there are a million people here—Luka extended invitations to the majority of the wedding guests, not just the wedding party—most of whom I don’t even know. Luka’s family. Family friends. Friends of friends. Godparents, cousins twice removed, random children. I try to keep my sights set on my parents and Mateo and those who have become closest to me in the short time Luka and I have been engaged. His sister, brother, sister-in-law. They’re my tribe.
I take another sip as a sudden realization sinks in. Luka’s familyacceptsme. They are fully on board with this sham wedding, and even his ice queen sister Emzee has come around to actually liking me. In fact, she texts me silly pictures of her dog Munchkin almost every day now, and in return I send pics from my modeling gigs—anything visually interesting that would appeal to her photographer’s eye. But in the end, I’m still keeping secrets from all of them, and the guilt I’ve been struggling with has only gotten worse since this damn dinner started.
“Excuse me,”an imperious female voice says.
I glance up to find the scrutinizing face of an older woman with perfectly styled gray hair, a sleek pinstripe pantsuit, and heavy gold earrings. She offers the tips of her fingers in one of those dead fish-type handshakes. I make it fast and plaster on a smile. Before she can say more, Luka gives her a warm hug with a genuine smile.
“Brooklyn, my aunt Vivian. She flew all the way from Morocco to be here and was hoping to get to know you before the wedding.”
“So you’re Brooklyn Moss,” she says, smiling tightly and giving a cocky tilt of her head as she side-eyes me. I feel judged, as if she knows what I’m up to. Then again, Luka comes from money. Lots of money. She’d probably scrutinize anyone he chose to marry.
“Yes. It’s wonderful to meet you,” I say pleasantly.
“Mmm-hmm. Well, they do say the heart wants what it wants.” She sniffs at me and then turns a bright gaze on Luka, patting his cheek affectionately, and my heart sinks. He doesn’t speak about his family much. I know he lost his mother at a young age and was raised by a series of nannies and babysitters, but never had a steady maternal influence in his life. Whatever relationship he has with his aunt, though, makes his eyes light up.
Once again, my guilt nearly suffocates me.
I’m a horrible person.
I start to rise to go get some fresh air, but then my bridesmaids come over to swarm me with hugs and hand me a shot of something dark and creamy. I toss it back, wishing we had more time together, but they have to rush to take their seats since the meal is about to be served. I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat a single bite. I’m so ready to get this over with.
Another relative of Luka’s comes over to meet me, and then another, and finally I’m standing because there are two more waiting in line to say hello and my arm begins to ache from lifting it while sitting to shake hands. My head is swimming, and it’s not from the alcohol.
Something warm touches between my shoulder blades and I look up to see Luka’s smiling face. His brow crinkles. “You look pale. Do you need to step out for a minute? I can cover for you.”
I smile and wave him off. “I’m fine. Just hungry, I guess.”
He looks like he doesn’t believe me. “I know this is probably overwhelming for you, but so much of my extended family flew in for the wedding that there wasn’t going to be time to visit with all of them tomorrow, so it seemed best to just invite everyone—”
“We talked about it already, and I really get it,” I reassure him. “Besides, it’s your wedding, too. Enjoy your family time.”
He rubs my back in a little circle—a gesture of appreciation. He’s being sincere, once again showing me the side of him that might really care about me. But I truly can’t tell if he’s into me, or just going through the motions because of the wedding, or trying to make up for the angry sex we had after he got so jealous over my trip to LA. No matter his reasons, though, I can’t shake the feeling that something amazing could really blossom between us if we let it. And I have to admit, I want that. We both deserve it, but I don’t know how to get from here to there.
Especially considering the contract that’s folded up in my purse right now. It’s a reminder that I haven’t fully committed to Luka the way I should if I want to be his real wife. Real wives don’t purposely deceive their husbands or play dirty to get what they want.
No. I could have Lukaanda healthy relationship. My name is already getting around in all the right circles thanks to my connection to him and my contract with Danica Rose Management. I’ve had job after job lined up ever since I signed, and though most of them have been smaller campaigns, I know that in time I’ll be a household name, and everyone will know my face. I’ll be making a ton of my own money, if I just stay the course.
Or…or I could sign the Elite Image contract and become a household name right now. No waiting required. The Maxilene contract will propel me to international fame and recognition in the blink of an eye. But if I do sign, I lose Luka.
Forever.
“And then he said, ‘Spirulina is nothing more than fancy algae. Why don’t you just scoop some out of the fountain on campus and put that in your smoothie?’” Everyone behind us starts laughing at Tori as she tries to impersonate her husband’s commanding, overly serious voice.
