Page 19 of Fusion (Gravity #2)

Beau/Dash

Beau

Saturday evening

The chill in the air sent a shiver racing down my spine. There was nothing quite like leaving paradise only to return to Chicago, facing a forty degree temperature drop between the two. I hauled my duffle bag out of the bed of my truck and reached for the case of the new fishing rod I’d purchased in Florida. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t shake the longing to still be on vacation. That had less to do with the Sunshine State and more to do with all the tension building in my shoulders since landing at O’Hare. With each mile I drove to the building, my shoulders only grew tighter.

Dash’s little race car wasn’t in its designated parking spot. I didn’t know how to feel about Dash not being home. Our shared calendar had my itinerary. I don’t know why I expected him to be here, but I did. Maybe this was an act of retaliation for not speaking to him for so long or maybe he flat wasn’t interested in being with me any longer. That probably said everything about our current situation, but I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel until he and I had an honest dialogue. I rode the elevator up and walked the hall until I reached the door to our place.

When I entered, a rush of sensation hit me. I felt it to my bones. It was a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature inside or out. The place was dark, no longer lived in. I wondered if Dash had been home while I was gone. In the living room, I tossed my duffle on a side chair but I was far more careful with my new rod case.

A sigh escaped me unexpectedly. Why couldn’t he just be here? That would’ve sufficed to help ease the argument between us. I rummaged through my bag in search of my phone. He hadn’t made contact explaining why he’d be late. His words about not following me echoed in my head. The only message I had was from my mother, checking if I’d arrived safely. I turned an armchair toward the window facing the well-lit entrance and garage, then took a seat to return the text from my mom.

My desire meant something to me. I didn’t want to be here, and I’d find a way to go. My heart still wanted Dash on board with the plan. I didn’t want to lose him just as much as I didn’t want to live the life I currently had. We could fly to one another every weekend. We barely saw each other these days. By spending a weekend with him, I’d actually see him more if he came to me. It wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. We could make it work. An attorney in the firm had a husband in Montana; they traveled on weekends. She said it allowed her all the time in the week to work as much as needed so she could take the time on the weekends instead of being worried about dinners and events during the week.

I steeled my heart and my resolve. Emotional turmoil had no place here, at least for now. From this angle, I’d see him drive into the garage, which would give me time to compose myself, and be prepared to broach the subject. If I failed and we split tonight, where did I plan to go? I didn’t know, except somewhere that had an ocean. Not Mobile, and Florida was damned expensive and crowded. I’d have to be able to transfer within FedEx. I had enough money saved to finally buy my own route… I placed my elbow on the arm of the chair, my head rested on my fist. Waiting only strengthened my doggedness to resolve all these lingering issues.

Six hours later, my ass hurt. I’d only gotten up from my chair to use the bathroom. I was in desperate need of a bottle of water and a snack. Yet, I waited, watching intently. I refused to go to bed. That left open a chance of never having this conversation. I practiced my speech, preparing for Dash’s counterarguments. He’d have plenty. I would focus on our maturity and the different directions life had taken us. We’d both evolved as individuals. I refused to tolerate any more lonely nights and weekends, hoping for his time.

I no longer intended to change who I was in order to fit into Dash’s firm. Having Dash try to change me stung the most. Somewhere close to midnight, a pair of headlights caught my eye. I watched the approach and recognized the sedan as being one from Dash’s firm. I rose in my seat and squared my shoulders. That car meant Dash would come in drunk. At least intoxicated enough that he didn’t feel comfortable driving. My heart ached. While I was here waiting for his arrival, he’d been out socializing.

The back door of the Lincoln swung open before the driver stepped out to open that door. Dash stumbled out of the backseat, barely managing to catch himself before he took a tumble. Dash had been drinking quite a bit lately, but I didn’t remember him coming home like this.

The opposite passenger door opened and Chandler leaped, rounding the trunk in a beelined pursuit of Dash. A wave of heat surged through my body. I clenched my fists at my sides. Any excuses I may have made for Dash were tossed out the window. What the fuck was Chandler doing with Dash?

In an overly familiar manner, Chandler swept Dash into his arms, pulling him close. Dash’s arms circled Chandler. When the embrace broke, they exchanged a long glance. Chandler cupped Dash’s cheek, caressing there. The entire scene was intimate, beyond friendship.

What struck me was the way Chandler’s thumb swept across Dash’s lower lip. They looked damned good together. They fit better than Dash and I did. It sure appeared Chandler had taken my place as Dash’s newest plus one.

They turned in unison back to the waiting car. Once Chandler had Dash tucked inside, he shut the door then looked up at me. So they knew I was here. To prove the point, he swiped a hand through the air, dismissing me as he went to the other side of the car. They were off in a matter of seconds.

As I watched them drive away, all I saw was red. My chin hit my chest as I breathed heavily, trying to control the need to hit something into submission. Dash wasn’t coming home. Chandler had probably told him I was home, standing in the window, and they made the decision to leave together.

As unbridled pain washed over me, my eyelids fluttered shut. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces, falling from my chest. Motherfucking Chandler.

I tried in vain to convince myself that it didn’t matter that it was him. Anyone in this situation would be devastating, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t true. Chandler hurt worse than anyone else. One thing was certain, I wasn’t sticking around for this. Message fucking received. It took all my strength not to tear this motherfucking place apart. I had no time to think irrationally and act on impulse. I was able to land somewhere in the emotional middle.

With heavy footsteps, I marched across the floor then up each step of this ridiculously curving staircase. I’d always found their design to be dumb. After tonight, I wouldn’t have to see them ever again. By the time I reached the bedroom, I had a good mix of both anger and hurt roiling around inside me. The sight of the room only intensified my emotions. Framed pictures of us —either alone or together—decorated every available shelf and piece of furniture. Tears sprang to my eyes.

Maybe I’d hung on too long, but dammit, we used to be happy . I overlooked the allure of our better days that had kept me here longer than they ever should. We were only kids when we met. Far too young to make the promises we made. We lived life like an old married couple. Dash had always wanted to appear older to compensate for his youth… I forced my mind to stop as I retrieved my suitcase from a storage closet upstairs. Whatever happened between me and Dash was in my rearview mirror. I only needed to look forward.

I laid the suitcase open on top of the built-in dresser inside the closet. With no discernable organizational system, I threw my clothes inside, many landing on the floor. Fuck it. I wasn’t taking any of the shit Dash had purchased for me. I grabbed my uniforms and kicked at the clothes on the floor as I made my way out.

My packed duffle bag, already downstairs, contained everything I needed anyway. With my hands full, I double-timed it down the stairs. As I reached for my bag, the sparkle of my commitment ring caught my eye. Everything in my hands dropped onto the chair. With an emotional pain that seared through my system like a lightning bolt, I yanked the ring off my fat fucking finger. Dammit, my knuckle was bleeding now. Dash’s fault too.

I chose not to dwell on the meaning that piece of jewelry held to me. With a deep breath, I grabbed the notepad and pen from the entry table. As the simple words poured from me, I saw red.

“I got it. Sorry it took so long to make this move. I’ve been in the same headspace as you for a long time. Probably longer than you,” I scribbled, feeling petty. I hoped Dash read this as I intended. “Chandler? Of course. Do the right thing and leave me the fuck alone.”

I felt adding my name was unnecessary. I left the note by my ring and grabbed my shit from the chair. The finality of my decision liberated my soul as I tried to carry my clothes, fishing pole, and duffle bag to my truck. I shoved it all into my truck’s backseat and was driving out of the garage within minutes. I’d get my boat and haul it with me wherever I went. I didn’t want Chandler to step a single foot on my beloved fishing boat. “Damn straight.” I slammed my fist into the steering wheel to punctuate my words. This was my first step to getting my life back on some sort of track.

If everything worked out for me, I wouldn’t ever have to suffer through this city’s traffic again.

Dash

Sunday

“Whoa,” Penny exclaimed.

Why was Penny at my house? Had I missed a meeting? My head throbbed like a son of a bitch, making it hard to focus on anything other than the drumbeat pulsating against my brain. The light streaming in through the window beat against my closed lids with the effectiveness of the harshest interrogation tactic, designed to torture the toughest criminals. I pressed a hand over my eyes to ward off the worst of it.

“What’re you doing here and why does it smell so bad?” she asked.

I lifted my hand and cracked my eyelids open. Huh. I was in my office, which made more sense than Penny being inside my home. When I attempted to speak, I found I had a frog living in my throat with the way I croaked. There wasn’t any saliva in my mouth. Fuck, I had to slow down my drinking. Beau needed to get his ass back here and help me tackle my problem before I turned into an alcoholic. I needed to get my shit together and get home to carry out my plans to surprise Beau upon his arrival this evening. We had to find a better way to repair our partnership, and I had to assure my guy that Chandler was never going to be an issue for us again.

I did my utmost to suppress my pain and started to rise to a sitting position.

“Wow, Dash, that’s awful.” I heard the distinct sound of a dry heave following her words. “I’ll contact the janitorial service.”

If she had such a reaction, I was certain my stomach couldn’t handle whatever she saw. Yet, I cautiously ventured a look in her direction. At least I attempted to use the trash can. That had to count for something.

“Penny,” I called.

“Already on it,” she said, reading my mind as usual. My bare feet were firmly planted on the ground, with my elbows resting on my knees. “Chandler brought you in before midnight. You were somewhat upright but by the time he settled you on the sofa, you were out cold. He then rifled around in your desk, opening and closing several drawers. Apparently, he didn’t know we record everything in this office.” That revelation that Chandler had finally shown himself had me pushing through the pain to stand. “The audio in your office picked up Chandler saying you had always been too na?ve.”

Hmm. Was my current state only due to an alcohol hangover, or did Chandler slip me something more? I never felt this bad before in my life.

“Did he carry anything out?” I asked as I headed for the minibar for a Gatorade, then took several long swigs.

“He shoved something under his overcoat and left you asleep on the sofa. Well, he nudged the trash can closer to you, then left.”

I stared at her, and she stared right back.

“I’ve never seen you looking so disheveled. Is that eyeliner underneath your eyes?”

Dammit . I’d started adding a subtle line beneath my lashes to help make my penetrating stare pop. I used it as a diversionary tactic that seemed to throw people off when looking into my eyes.

“What time is it?” I asked, ignoring her question.

“About noon.”

“I need to leave. Beau’s expected to be home by early afternoon,” I said, rummaging through my pants pockets for my key fob. At the same time, I spotted my suit jacket and headed that way. Maybe my keys were in there.

“I have that he arrived home yesterday,” Penny said, confusion evident in her voice.

“Carter mentioned that Beau had rescheduled for today,” I said, remembering the small gift box I had bought well over a week ago, which was tucked away in my desk drawer.

“Weird. The system didn’t notify me of a change,” she said. “I’ll redirect the vitamin hydration company to your place. They’ll set up an IV, and within ten minutes, you’ll begin to feel better. They work like a charm.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be home in roughly twenty minutes. I’d like to take a shower first,” I said, dropping the suit coat back on the side chair. Penny would send it off to be dry cleaned.

“Sure, I’ll let them know.” As I confidently headed toward my office door, I resolved to use willpower to improve my mood. Somewhere in the next few hours I planned to confront Chandler and send him packing, Beau would be invited to go with me.

I was tired of all the game playing in my life. While I had played a part in fostering and manipulating Chandler, it was time for a change. Once I let my guard down, I realized how badly I missed Beau. I was determined to rebuild our relationship. Beau only needed a reminder of how much I cared. We also needed to have regular sex again. I’d been remiss in both departments.

I had a lot to sort through. How had I allowed myself to get so out of control last night? My guy deserved much better than me. We’d find our way, though. We always did.