Page 31 of Envy
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We lie together in Wyatt’s bed in the afterglow of our reunion, several rounds later. His fingers trace lines over my face and down my neck. He looks at me so lovingly it makes my heart ache. I thought I hated him when it was just the opposite. I hated that I still loved him after I believed he’d betrayed me.
Today has been a long and emotional one, sharing what I’d been through and learning the complete truth of what happened after I left. Part of me craves the solitude of my apartment and the life I’ve grown accustomed to leading. But I know once I step inside the door, visions of Wyatt will consume my thoughts.
“You’re thinking about leaving me.” His somber expression tugs at my heart.
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
“Because I know you better than anyone else, Megan. We’re connected—we always have been, and we always will be.”
“I was thinking about going back to my apartment, yes. But I know as soon as I do, all I’ll do is think about you and miss you all over again. It’s a no-win situation.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The only winning solution is for you to stay right here where we’re both happy.”
“Stay here and pretend the world outside that locked door doesn’t exist?” I ask and stroke the scruff of his beard.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. We can start building a life together now, Megan.”
I slide out of bed and pull his T-shirt over my head before isolating myself in his bathroom. I enjoy about thirty seconds of solitude before he barges in. Naked. And he leans against the vanity without showing the least bit of discomfort.
“What are you doing?” He quirks one eyebrow at me.
“I was going to pee before you interrupted me.”
“No, you’re running from me. Again. I thought we were moving past this. The talk this morning. The day we’ve spent in bed, making love, talking, enjoying each other, spending time together. We’re getting back on common ground—finally. We have another chance at happiness together. Don’t throw that away.”
Can I do this? Can I allow happiness in and discard my life of seclusion and loneliness? Am I capable of allowing someone in again and opening myself up to being hurt again?
My head is a jumbled mess, and I can’t think straight around him. Naked. So I turn and walk out of the bathroom, grab my clothes, and begin dressing. Wyatt comes up behind me and takes my pants out of my hand before I can stop long enough to put them on. I turn and stare him down.
“Give me back my pants.”
“No. I like you better without them on.”
I fight not to smile, and he knows it. “Wyatt, if I leave here without my pants, I’ll get arrested.”
“If you leave here without your pants and another man sees you, I’ll get arrested, and you’ll get your ass tanned.”
Now I do laugh. I can’t help it. “All right, you’re holding me hostage by keeping my pants and locking me in the apartment. I really should be going now.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head and hides my pants behind his back. He’s pushing me, daring me.
I suddenly remember his pants are in the bedroom and the key to the locked door is in them. Giving him a sweet smile, I approach him, raise up on my toes, and kiss him. He returns my kiss, but I feel the muscles in his arm tighten as he grips my pants. Before he realizes my trick, I race past him to the bedroom and grab his pants off the floor.
He’s close behind me, blocking the doorway with his body and watching me with those too keen eyes. When I fish the key out of his pocket, I lift it up in victory with a triumphant, “Aha!”
Then I realize what I’m holding in my hands. My knees buckle underneath me, and I crumple to the floor, staring at my hand.
“I don’t think you understand,” he states softly. “I moved here for you. I waited for you to return to Savannah after college, but you never did. You know I never wanted to run Weston Commercial…that’s never been in my plans. But you…my plans have included you from day one.
“I found you again about a year ago, and I’ve watched and waited to make my move again since then. You were building a name for yourself on Wall Street. Successful brokers tend to get the attention of the wealthiest clients. Maybe you’ve forgotten that the Savannah wealthy families buy and sell on the stock market the same as the New York wealthy do.
“I’ll never admit to this, and if you tell anyone, I’ll lie through my teeth and deny it…but I may have stalked you a little online over the years. I may have watched your companies’ portfolios and investments. I may have seen the amount of Weston Commercial shares you’ve bought over the years and figured out what your ultimate plan was.”
My ears hear his words, but I can’t move my eyes from what I’m holding in my hand.
“I may have known about your relationship with Russell. I may have even watched to see how often he showed up at your apartment and tried to figure out how important he was to you. In my greenest with envy times, I may have contemplated one thousand and one different ways to dispose of his body so he would never be found again. But I saw through you, Megan. I figured out how you kept him at arms-length. He never had your heart. You never shared your soul with him. And he never knew you as well as I do.
