Page 44

COREY

“Now? You want to talk now?” she snaps.

“Um … yeah,” I say, knowing that if she makes me wait, I’ll probably chicken out of having the conversation I really don’t want to.

“I’m working, Corey,” she fumes.

“I know. I know, I just … I need to explain.”

She turns to look over her shoulder. Everyone is busy chatting, enjoying the drinks being passed around, and a few are heading towards the other room where I assume the silent auction is.

“This is incredible, by the way. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Reese had to finish it,” she mutters. After a few seconds, she turns to me. “This had better be good.”

Reaching out, I take her hand in mine and pull her back to the door I entered through only minutes ago.

That last person I was expecting to find at the other end of my buzzer earlier tonight was Fletch, holding a suit bag.

He’d been sent on a mission by Reese, and as much as I wanted to ignore him and continue hiding like the little bitch I was becoming, I couldn’t.

Safe to say his argument was convincing, because I’m now standing here in a bloody tux, about to rip open my chest and bleed out for the woman I’ve realized owns my heart.

“Where the hell are we going? Out there would have been just fine.” She points out toward the hotel reception we just walked through as the lift doors close behind me.

“I’m not doing this in public, Harlow.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but when her eyes land on my face, she closes it again.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“I’m … I’m terrified, okay? There are things I need to explain to you. Things I haven’t told another living soul, and …”

“It’s okay,” she says, placing her warm hand on my forearm and squeezing gently.

“It’s not. I need you to understand. I need you to know everything.”

“Okay.” She swallows nervously as the lift dings to announce our arrival.

Pulling the card out that Fletch handed me, I look for a room number, only instead I find a name.

That fucker gave me the key to a suite.

Glancing up at the signs, I turn left.

Harlow follows me to the first door, and, after tapping the card, I push it open.

“A little presumptuous, don’t you think?” she asks, looking around at the vast space.

“I didn’t have anything to do with it. Fletch gave me the key, told me it was mine for the night to do with as I wish.”

“So he’s the reason you’re here right now then.”

“Partly,” I say, stepping toward her. “He gave me a push. But the real reason I’m here is for you.”

“Okay, so …”

Blowing out a shaky breath, I find the minibar and locate a bottle of scotch. Grabbing two glasses, I lower them to the coffee table.

“Drink?” I ask, looking up at Harlow.

Her lips press into a thin line. “I can’t drink, Corey.”

“Oh, fuck. Yeah. Sorry. Do you mind if I…?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Relief floods me that I’m going to be able to take the edge off the conversation that’s about to happen.

I pour myself a glass and down the lot in one before repeating the action with a second.

“Come and sit down, please?” I can’t cope with her hovering nervously as if she’s about to bolt.

She hesitates but eventually joins me on the other end of the sofa.

“Losing my boys and the drama with my family weren’t the only reasons I needed to escape my old life.

” I pause, preparing to lay it all out for her.

“Carla and I had been friends all our lives.

Our fathers served together, and we ended up in the same boarding school while our parents were elsewhere.

“We both partied pretty hard in our younger years, along with everyone else around us. Most of us were army brats with parents all around the world. We thought we were invincible.

“I was never interested in Carla in that way—she was just my friend. But one night we got really drunk and ended up kissing. One thing led to another, and …”

“You got her pregnant?” Harlow guesses.

Unable to hold her eyes, I stare down at my hands. “We were only fifteen. We were so young and naive. She stayed in school as long as she could before she left and had our daughter.” Harlow gasps, but I don’t focus on her. I can’t, or I’ll stop and never get the words out.

“I enlisted the second I finished school. I didn’t have any choice, thanks to my father, but I promised her that I’d support her in any way I could.

I had a responsibility to our daughter, and I fully intended on being there for her, although we both agreed nothing would happen between the two of us.

“I joined the army, and she stayed home to bring up … our baby,” I say, unable to even mention her name. “I’d see them both as often as I could, but I got swallowed up into squaddie life, and … I was young,” I sigh, regretting not being a better father. A better friend.

“Things were … fine. L-Layla was growing up faster than I’d ever thought possible. She started school, all that stuff. I missed most of it because I was away, and I hated having to see it all in photographs.

“When I was discharged, I told myself that it was my chance to make things right. To be the father she needed and deserved.

“I hadn’t seen either of them for quite some time, and when I got back from rehab, I barely recognized Carla. She was a mess. I’d been sending them money every month, but I had no idea it was all going directly to her dealer. I had no clue that she’d spiraled out of control.

“Anyway, once I got myself sorted and Zach gave me a chance at the studio, I swore to myself that I’d get a place of my own and go for custody. I might not have had a clue about how to bring up a child, but I was damn sure I could do a hell of a better job than Carla.”

My eyes remain on my hands as I fiddle with my fingers, attempting to stop them trembling.

I pause, taking a moment before I continue.

“I started proceedings with a lawyer, and they agreed that I’d have a solid chance of winning. Only, we never got that far.” My voice cracks, and Harlow slides across the sofa until she’s holding my hands and her huge, dark eyes are staring into mine.

“A couple of nights before the court case, I was trying to sleep when I got a call. There had been a fire at Carla’s flat and … I could tell by the voice on the other end of the phone that it was bad.

“I raced over there.” I pause as the images of that fateful night fill my mind. Harlow squeezes my hands and slides even closer. I desperately want to look at her again, but I fear that if I do, I’ll break down and put off saying any more.

“Flames billowed from the windows; smoke poured into the night sky. It was terrifying. The firemen did everything they could, but the blaze was too hot for them to get into the flat.

“By the time they got inside, it was too l-late. She was only eight. She had her whole life ahead of her.”

“Oh my God.” Her voice is full of emotion as she crawls onto my lap and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“It had barely been a year since I lost my boys, and then that happened.” My body trembles as I’m taken back to that night. I was useless, utterly useless. After all my military training, when it mattered, all I could do was stand there and watch my world burn.

Lacing my arms around her waist, I hold her to me, and I will the images to subside. I know it’s wishful thinking—they’re always there, just waiting to pop up, usually in my sleep, and threaten to break me all over again.

“I’m so sorry, Corey. I’m so sorry,” she whispers softly in my ear before she presses her lips to my neck and starts gently kissing me.

Once I’m feeling a little more in control of myself. I wrap my hands around her forearms and push her back so I can look at her.

She has black makeup streaked down her face where she’s been crying with me.

She reaches out and brushes her thumbs over my cheeks, clearing away my own tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she says again.

“Harlow, I’m … I’m terrified. I can’t go through that again. I can’t lose …”

“Shh,” she soothes, still holding my face. “That was a terrible, terrible accident. The chances of it?—”

“I can’t lose you, Harlow.” I drop my hand to her smooth belly. “I can’t lose either of you.”

A sob rips up Harlow’s throat before she falls onto my chest and cries.

Rubbing my hands up and down her back, I sit in silence, my own thoughts running rampant around my head as she gets herself together.

“I didn’t think you wanted us,” she admits into the crook of my neck.

“I’m so fucking sorry. This was my issue; it had nothing to do with you. I want you more than anything.”

We sit locked in our embrace for the longest time, just soaking up strength from each other and making silent promises that we’re both too scared to say out loud.

“Harlow?” I whisper after long minutes.

She pulls her head from my shoulder and looks at me through tear-filled eyes. The emotion staring back at me guts me to my core.

“I … fuck.”

“It’s okay,” she says, lifting her palm to rest on my cheek. “I know. I’m scared too.”

“When did you find out?”

“The day after my aunt died. I was sick, couldn’t stand the smell of coffee. Brooke made me take a test.”

“So when do you think we …”

“That first night.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I already thought that night was life changing. Apparently, I was right.”

“You’re a nightmare,” she jokes, slapping my chest lightly before she falls silent.

“What’s wrong?”

She’s off my lap before I have a chance to stop her. I miss her contact immediately as she begins pacing back and forth in front of me.

“Before you, I hadn’t been with anyone for … years.”

“Harlow, I’m not suggesting it isn’t mine or anything,” I say, sitting forward, wondering where she’s going with this.

“Oh, I know. I just … I need to explain why, and why going with you that night was so huge for me.”

“Okay,” I say, sitting back and continuing to watch her move back and forth.

“I was a nightmare teenager. From about the age of twelve, I was smoking and drinking. Anything to make me forget my life.

“I’d had the most perfect childhood. My parents were incredible and gave me everything I could have wanted. And then it was all gone. Ripped out from under my feet in the blink of an eye, and suddenly I had no one.

“No one cared. No one wanted me.” Her voice cracks, and all I want to do is pull her back into my arms.

“I used alcohol, drugs, and … sex to make myself feel better. I was a mess, and I hate looking back to that time in my life. I’m ashamed.”

Pushing from the sofa, I stand in front of her to stop her from pacing.

“Hey,” I say, reaching out and taking her cheeks in my hands.

I clear the fresh tears away with my thumbs before kissing the tip of her nose.

“If you’re telling me this because you think it’s going to turn me off, then you need to think again.

Nothing could do that. I want you, Harlow.

Just the way you are, with your kind heart, supportive nature, and fucked-up past.”

A smile curls at her lips. “Yeah?”

“Baby, we’ve all done things we regret. You were just a child, unable to handle the life you’d been dealt. No one could criticise you for that.”

“But the things I did …” Her lip curls in disgust.

“It doesn’t matter. You can give me all the details one day if it makes you feel better. But seriously, you’re the one I want. Dark past and all.”

“Really?” she breathes, as if she can’t believe it.

“What do I need to do to make you believe I’m serious? Get down on one?—”

“No, no,” she says with wide, panic-filled eyes as she reaches out to grasp my upper arm in case I’m going to do as I just threatened.

“It’s okay, it was a joke. Although I’m glad to know how you feel about that.”

“Everything is just too much right now.” She drops her hand to her belly, just one bit of evidence for how her life is at the moment.

“I know, baby. It will get better, I promise. And one day, I will ask you that question.”

She bites into her bottom lip as she thinks and fights a small smile. She isn’t as opposed to the idea as she previously made out.

“How about for now, we clean up and head back down?” I wipe at the stray makeup under her eyes.

I hate to suggest it; what I really want to do is the exact opposite and dirty her up a little more.

But I know how much this event means to her.

I remember the sparkle she got in her eyes when she started telling me about it on the beach that night.

“Sounds good. I hope people are enjoying themselves.”

“I have no doubt. It looked incredible.”

“I just want to make a difference, you know?”

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I walk us toward the bathroom. “You do, Harlow. Every single day.”