So Not Meant To Be

My throat feels completely dry as I sit up in bed.

The cold, empty bed.

I lean over to the nightstand and switch on the light, illuminating the dark room perfectly. I glance around but see no trace of JP. His phone isn’t on his nightstand.

Did he even sleep here?

I wish I was that person who could drink a lot of champagne, black out, and not remember one thing from the night before.

Unfortunately, that’s not me.

I’m the girl who usually has the hangover attached to all the regret.

And that’s what I’m feeling right now. An immense amount of regret.

Regret how I acted. What I said. For thrusting myself upon JP when clearly . . . well, when clearly, I was anything but attractive to him last night. And the way he shut down as if I actually repulsed him. He wouldn’t even hold me last night. No wonder he’s not here this morning.

I took things too far.

I flip the covers off my body and walk over to the bathroom. I look for a note, maybe a cup of coffee he left behind for me like he’s done in the past.

Nothing.

Worry consumes me as I make my way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Nothing.

Maybe he texted me.

I walk back up the stairs—grateful I don’t have a headache, only a serious case of dry mouth—and when I reach the bedroom again, I check my phone for a message.

Nothing.

Once again, that ill-fated embarrassment consumes me as the worst-case scenario plays in my head.

I turned him off last night. I’m thinking that as much as he said he likes relaxed-Kelsey, drunk-Kelsey doesn’t appeal. And, fair enough.

But I absolutely hate how the feelings this . . . emptiness is so similar to when Edwin left that night with Genesis. And she was stunning, intelligent, and lovely. Not neurotic and uptight like I am. Let’s be honest, JP had chosen her first, as well. Even though I felt only a tenth of what I feel for JP for Edwin, it still stung when he walked away. So, what will I feel if JP does the same?

Devastated.

But why on Huxley and Lottie’s wedding day? He said that he’d been waiting for me for a long time, so it’s an awful feeling knowing I’ve hit the expiry date of the playboy. Is this him letting me down easy? Shit. This just seems wrong. Or maybe . . . right?

What am I doing with these circular arguments?

Either way, he’s not here now.

I’m not sure when he’ll return, but I know one thing for certain—I can’t be here.

I go to the dresser where I keep some of my things and pull out a pair of joggers. I don’t bother changing my shirt. I quickly brush my teeth, toss my hair up into a ponytail, and slip on sandals.

Phone in hand, I walk down the stairs to the entryway, and just as I’m opening the door, I hear JP ask, “Where are you going?”

Frozen in place, I turn toward where his voice came from—the kitchen—and I offer him the best smile I can muster. “Uh, over to Lottie’s. Bridal things.” I wave at him because I’m awkward. “So, yeah, happy wedding day to everyone.”

His brow pulls together. “You’re just going to leave like that? No kiss goodbye?” He walks up to me with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand.

“Oh, yeah, kiss, right.” I meet him halfway, stand on my toes, and then peck him on the chin. “Okay, well, see you at the altar.” My eyes widen. “Not our altar, the wedding altar, the wedding that’s not happening between us, but between Lottie and Huxley.” I back up toward the door. “So, yeah, see you later.”

“Kelsey, wait a second.”

“I really have to go,” I say to him. “Lottie needs help. She has, uh . . . a, uh zit.” I nod. “Yup, a zit. And she needs help soothing the zit before the wedding, and if anyone is the zit whisperer, I am. But it takes time to soothe a zit and we’re on borrowed time.”

His brows draw even closer together than before, and as I cross toward the front door, he continues to follow me. “Well, at least let me walk you across the street.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“You’re not troubling me, babe.” He catches up to me, takes my hand in his, and links our fingers, the feel of his palm connected with mine nearly making the thin grasp I have on my emotions slip. He tugs me close to him and kisses the top of my head. “How did you sleep?” he asks as we make our way to Lottie and Huxley’s.

“Uh . . . fine,” I answer, feeling so awkward, so uncomfortable. There’s a giant elephant in the room and it’s sitting on our clasped hands, tugging me down.

“Just fine?”

“Yeah, fine.” We cross the street, and to keep the conversation flowing so he doesn’t ask me what’s wrong with me, because I can feel it coming, I ask, “Excited about your plans today? I think you have basketball and some special shave session with facials at a barbershop, and I believe some sort of barbecue tasting. Seemed fancy, when Lottie was explaining it to me.”

“There’s a lot going on. He wanted to plan some things with us before we walk down the aisle.” He holds up the coffee to me just as we make it to their front door. “I got this for you. Your favorite skinny vanilla latte.”

“Oh.” I take the cup. “Thank you. That was nice of you. You went out to get me coffee?”

“Nah, I was out and figured I’d stop.”

Why was he out so early in the morning? Don’t even go there, Kelsey. You’re not in the right frame of mind. It’ll only do you more harm than good.

“Well, thank you.” Luckily, just as I go to knock on the door, Huxley appears.

“Hey,” he says, looking between us, but when he meets JP’s eyes, they exchange some sort of conversation, and when JP nods, Huxley clears his throat and steps aside. “Lottie is upstairs.”

“Yup. Zit control,” I say as I release JP’s hand and attempt to squeeze by Huxley.

“Kelsey,” JP says before I can get too far.

“Hmm?” I say, looking over my shoulder.

“Are you going to say bye?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve got zits on the brain.” I once again give him a kiss on his chin, but as I step away, he loops his arm around my waist and brings me in close to his chest. He tilts my chin up and presses his mouth to mine.

Warm.

Addictive.

An electrifying kiss that rocks you to your very core. His affection rips through me like a gentle, but comforting, hug and it causes my emotions to ramp up once again.

When he releases me, I hold it together as I back away.

But once I’m inside the house, door shut behind me, I feel the tears stream down my face.

What on earth is going on with me?

Why am I so emotional?

Because you’re embarrassed. Because you finally have something that you’ve always wanted, and last night made you unsure of everything you knew.

Insecurities creep in and take hold of my heart.

He didn’t want you.

He didn’t want your body.

He didn’t hold you.

He wanted nothing to do with you.

And even though he kissed me this morning, something feels off. Something doesn’t feel right. The idea of losing him is making me so emotional.

Because for the first time in my life, I can honestly say I’m in love. I’m so hopelessly, and desperately, in love with a man, and I’m afraid that he very well might not love me back.

But now is not the time for that, for those worries. Lottie is getting married, which means I need to be there for her. This is her day. I need to push aside my feelings, slap on a happy face, and focus on her. And who knows—maybe she does need help with a zit.

I wipe at my cheeks, take a few deep breaths, and then walk up the stairs to her bedroom. It’s time to get the bride ready for the day.

“DO you think people will be able to see it?” Lottie asks, looking into the mirror.

“With our concealer, no one will be the wiser,” Meredith, our makeup artist, says, reassuring Lottie.

It wasn’t a zit that she needed to worry about, but rather a hickey. Apparently, Huxley wanted to claim what was his one more time without a ring. And he did in spectacular fashion, right on the middle of her neck.

Unfortunately for me and my fragile state of affairs, seeing my sister with a hickey and about to get married only made me consider my current situation, which of course led to me having a mental breakdown in my sister’s bathroom. When I came out with puffy eyes and Lottie asked me what was the matter, I told her I’d gotten a charley horse while on the toilet and that it nearly made me fall to the ground in writhing pain. She told me Huxley got a charley horse the other night while pumping into her and that it was so bad, it made his penis shrivel right up. I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at Huxley the same after hearing that.

But I’ve been able to hold it together ever since, enough to feed myself, wash my body, and even engage in conversation about how excited I am for Lottie to be getting married. It’s been great.

“So, you never told me how last night went. Did you cash in on your text?” Lottie asks.

Well . . . it was great.

“Uh, not really,” I say, knowing I can’t lie to my sister, that she’ll see right through me. “Too drunk.”

Keep it at that, simple.

“You weren’t that drunk. Did you chicken out on me? You didn’t have to do the twirl. Was it the twirl that got you?”

There was no way in hell I was even mentioning the twirl last night.

“No, it just . . . it wasn’t happening,” I say, crossing my legs.

She frowns. “What do you mean it wasn’t happening?”

“I mean . . . he wasn’t . . . in the mood,” I draw out, hoping Meredith signed that NDA Huxley makes everyone who walks into his house sign.

“He wasn’t in the mood?” Lottie asks as Meredith blots concealer on the hickey. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he wasn’t in the mood. Can we drop it? Because I feel emotional about it and I don’t want to be emotional on your wedding day. It’s supposed to be happy and fun, not depressing.”

“Yes, but I don’t want you to have to force a smile. We need to talk this out.”

“Hello?” Ellie calls from the entryway. Just great . . . “Where are you guys?”

“Upstairs bedroom,” Lottie calls out.

“Can we not talk about this with her?” I ask. “I’m really . . . I’m embarrassed. Last night was such a disaster, and the more I think about it, the more I just want to curl up and cry. Trust me, I’m highly emotional, and you don’t want that while we’re getting ready.” My eyes well up.

Lottie reaches her hand out to me, and I take it. “But you’re hurting, and I can’t have you hurting right now. How could you have any fun today if you bottle it all up?”

Ellie comes through the door at that moment, a box of baked goods in one hand and her dress bag in the other. “Sorry I’m late, the baby was being fussy, and I hate to be that person, but I really wanted to make sure everything was okay before I left.” She studies me, then Lottie, then me again, and she winces. “Oh, he told you. How are you doing?”

Told me . . .

Told me what?

I sit taller and so does Lottie, her protective-big-sister instincts kicking in. “Told her what?” Lottie asks.

Ellie’s face drains of all color as she once again looks between us. “Uh . . . what was that?” She blinks a few times.

Lottie turns to Meredith and asks, “I’m so sorry, but could you give us a moment?”

“Not a problem, gives me a chance to check in with the kids.”

Meredith takes off, shutting the door behind her, and Lottie spins in her seat and asks, “What are you talking about, Ellie?”

Now Ellie’s wringing her hands together, chewing on the side of her lip, looking like she might possibly flee or throw up. “You know, it’s not a big deal. I just—you looked upset, so I assumed something I shouldn’t have assumed. Why don’t we just ignore what I said and have some cronuts? I got the raspberry-filled ones.”

Speaking as evenly as I can, I say, “Ellie, I’m a borderline emotional nutcase right now. I need to know what you’re talking about or I might combust. Please, just tell me.”

She sighs and mutters, “Me and my big mouth.” She grabs her phone and starts scrolling through it while she says, “The only reason I know is because Dave told me about it and I was preparing myself for what might happen this morning. But apparently, and I don’t know when, JP sent out an email to a bunch of women asking them to be his date for the wedding.”

“What?” I ask.

Ellie hands me her phone. A screenshot from an email JP sent comes into view.

“What does it say?” Lottie asks.

“‘Hey ladieeees. Sending a big old cock of an email because, you know . . . I have a big cock’ . . .” I trail off, unable to read it anymore, so Lottie takes the phone and finishes for me.

“‘So this email has to match. Here’s the thing. Hux is getting married to Lulu Lemon.’” She looks up. “Hey, why is he calling me Lulu Lemon?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I ask as a tear escapes down my cheek. Ellie is quick to hand me a tissue.

“You’re right. Email is more important.” Lottie clears her throat. “‘And they told me I need a plus-one. Looking for a willing candidate to escort me down the aisle. All expenses paid. Promises of pleasure. If interested, hit me up. I wear condoms still. K. Bye. JP.’ That motherfucker!”

“Wait, he said he still wears condoms? Why would he say that?” I ask.

“Because he’s looking for sex,” Lottie says, handing the phone back to Ellie. “When is this email from?”

Ellie shrugs. “I don’t know. I just heard it from Dave last night, and then the baby needed me.”

“Does it say on the screenshot?” I ask, my throat so tight, the words strain to fall off my tongue.

Ellie looks at the phone and then shakes her head. “That was all blacked out.”

I worry my lips as I draw my knees up close to my chest.

“Hello? Where are my babies?” Mom calls from downstairs.

I give a panicked look to Lottie, who then glances at Ellie. “Want me to distract her?” Ellie asks.

We both nod and, thankfully, she takes off and shuts the door behind her. When it clicks shut, I bury my head in my hands. Lottie sits next to me.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Lottie asks.

“Because this is your day and I’m ruining it.”

“No, JP is ruining it. Now tell me exactly what happened last night.”

I swipe at my eyes and say, “When we got back to his place, I was all about having sex and doing all the dirty things. He was really reserved and almost standoffish. I said I was going to bed naked and he suggested I wear clothes. It was—it was weird.”

“That is weird.”

“And then, when I threw myself at him again, he said not tonight, and . . . ugh, it was humiliating. I ended up going to bed, and when I thought he’d cuddle up against me, he didn’t. I woke up this morning to an empty bed. I was humiliated and . . . and I don’t think he thinks I’m attractive or that he wants me anymore. Right when I was about to come over here, he showed up and walked me over. He was more loving, still a little stiff. He said he was already out this morning, so he picked me up coffee, but where was he? Was he doing something with Huxley?”

“Huxley was with me all morning.”

Tears cascade down my cheeks. “God, then I have no idea. But he did give me this really good kiss before I walked up here, but he hasn’t texted since and . . . I don’t know. I’ve never felt more desired than I am when I’m with him, but last night . . . last night, I felt foolish, and now this email.” Panic tightens my throat. “What if he sent that while we were together?”

Lottie takes a deep breath and says, “Let’s be rational about this, okay?”

I nod, even though the worst-case scenario keeps flashing through my head.

“Last night, when we were drinking, the boys were in the house talking.”

“Yes, ‘man things,’ they said.”

“Which is code for either penis problems, or something to make us think it’s penis problems so we don’t go sniffing around for information.”

“Do you think JP was having penis problems last night? Is that why he wouldn’t have sex with me? I mean, I was naked in front of him and he wasn’t even hard.”

Lottie shakes her head. “No, I don’t think he was having penis problems, because even Huxley was irritated last night and I doubt his brother’s penis problem would make him irritated. This was the kind of irritation that I always associate with work.”

“So, they had a work problem last night?”

“No, I bet you they were dealing with this email. If Dave Toney knew about it last night, he would’ve told the boys. My guess is, someone got their hands on the email that shouldn’t have and the boys were trying to take care of it.”

“But when was it sent?”

“Probably before you guys were together. There’s no way he sent it after. He really likes you, Kelse.”

“I like to think that he does, but . . . there’s this feeling I have, this feeling I think I’ve always had when getting involved with him. I’m not good enough, not up to his level. I’m not going to fulfill what he needs in life. We’re so different.”

“But you are exactly what each other needs, too.” She grips my cheeks, forcing me to look at her. “Your insecurities are misshaping your view of JP. He’s a good guy. And the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this is the boys trying to shield us from the truth.”

“The truth being . . . JP didn’t want to take me to the wedding.”

“Stop it. You don’t know that.”

“Then why didn’t he want me last night?” I cry. “And where was he this morning? Do you think he was with someone else?”

Lottie shakes her head. “No. He’d never do that. You should know him well enough at this point to know he wouldn’t do that, either.”

“But . . . he didn’t get hard. He didn’t hold me. He’s been so possessive of me ever since we got together, and then, all of a sudden, that just ends? Something is off.”

“Maybe he was worried you’d find out.”

“Because he’s hiding something?”

“Or maybe because he’s afraid of losing you.”

I lean back on the settee and shield my eyes.

“Just text him.”

“Text him what?”

“Text him anything, see what he says. Here, give me your phone.”

I hand it over to her and she types away.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you that everything is okay. I really think this is all a misunderstanding. JP is crazy about you.” She types away and hits send before flashing me the screen.

Kelsey: Hey, how’s it going over there? You guys having fun?

“See? Casual, easy. We’ll see what he says.”

“That’s if he texts back.”

My phone beeps and Lottie gives me a know-it-all look before she leans in and we read his response together.

JP: Good, just got done with breakfast. We’re off to basketball with full stomachs. If I suck, I’m blaming it on the bacon. How are you, baby? Did I tell you how gorgeous you are today? If not, you are. So fucking gorgeous.

“See?” Lottie says, tossing her hand in the air. “I told you. Having been around Huxley during work crises, I’d say this is exactly what happened—someone brought up this email that JP sent who knows how long ago, they did damage control, and JP was worried about it last night. Look at that text. You’re telling me he doesn’t like you? You’re telling me he’d rather be with someone else?”

I stare down at the text, reading it over a few times.

A part of me believes her. It all makes sense when you line it up like that, but . . . what about this morning? What about his rejection last night, not holding me? Even if he was worried, he’d at least hold me, right?

But I need to store that away for now. I can’t worry about it. I’ve already ruined this morning, and I refuse to ruin the rest of the day.

Pulling out the best smile that I can, I say, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I know I am.” Lottie gives me a hug. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes.” I smile even bigger, but I don’t feel it inside of me. I don’t feel the joy. I just feel . . . sad. “Want me to grab the girls?”

She shakes her head. “No, I want to grab some more drinks. I’ll be right back. Need anything?”

“I’m good.”

She pats my shoulder. “Text your boy back, see just how much he likes you.”

When she leaves, I stare at my phone. I’m tempted to not say anything, to just ignore his response, but I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to ignore him. I don’t feel great inside, but I do know I should continue talking to him.

So, I do. Even though I’m hurting, I know that it’s not right to push him away.

Kelsey: Thank you. I’m doing okay. Slightly dehydrated. The makeup artist is currently attempting to cover up a deep purple hickey on Lottie’s neck. We’re hoping the magic of makeup wins today.

I hear laughter downstairs. Forget your troubles. Forget your feelings. This day is for Lottie, and I need to make the best of it.

My phone beeps.

JP: Hux told us. Lottie didn’t seem fazed. How’s that zit . . .

I bite my bottom lip. God, does he know I was lying? Hopefully he doesn’t. Would Hux tell them about a zit? Who knows?

Kelsey: Mellowed. Shouldn’t be a problem.

JP: Looks like you’re a zit whisperer, after all. Good job, babe. Oh, hey, the boys are yelling at me to get off my phone. I’ll check back in. Thinking of you, babe. Can’t wait to see you in your dress.

Kelsey: Have fun. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I set down my phone, take a deep breath, and as I release the air, the door to the bedroom opens. It’s time to put on my happy face.

“I DO,” Lottie says, her voice tight with emotion.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man prouder than Huxley at this moment. His chest fills with air, his eyes sparkle with tears, and you can see the relief in his shoulders, knowing the woman standing in front of him will now carry his last name. Absolutely beautiful.

The entire ceremony has been beautiful. They timed it to begin right before sunset, so as they proceeded, the sun set against the water behind them. The location has its own beach, so there isn’t a tourist or local around. The sky is beautifully dotted with puffy clouds that reflect the sun in shades of pink and purple, creating the most stunning glow.

Lottie, in a simple mermaid-style dress, steals the show, but the men in their deep blue suits are showstoppers, too. I’ve attempted to avoid JP’s eye contact as much as I can, but it feels impossible. My eyes are like a magnet to his. When I started walking down the aisle, I looked his way and caught him catch his breath right before he wet his lips. When the ceremony began, I glanced in his direction and saw him smiling at me, his expression so intense that I wanted to walk over to him and bury my head in his chest. And now, as the minister announces to Huxley and Lottie that they’re man and wife, I watch JP rock on his heels and stare me down, open promises in his eyes.

“I’d like to introduce to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Huxley Cane.”

Like a robot, I cheer and hand Lottie her bouquet before she and Huxley walk back up the aisle. And because Lottie wanted me to walk with JP, he’s next in line. He meets me at the altar, arm extended.

Here we go.

I step up next to him, loop my arm through his, and expect to walk up the aisle, but then he leans in close to my ear, sending chills up my spine, and whispers, “You look so goddamn beautiful, Kelsey. You take my breath away.”

My battered heart beats wildly as my knees go a little weak.

I love this man. I love him so much, and hearing his voice, feeling his strong body connected to mine, it almost seems like too much.

“Thank you,” I whisper back as we make our way to the reception room, where Huxley is kissing Lottie, his hand possessively on her lower back, holding her tightly.

JP turns toward me and lifts my chin. Before I can say anything, his lips are on mine and his hand gently runs through the curls of my hair. “Fuck,” he whispers when he pulls away. “I missed you today.” He kisses my nose, my forehead, and then my lips one more time just as Breaker steps up next to us with Ellie.

“Hell, everyone is kissing. Should we?”

Ellie chuckles and says, “Only if you want Dave to cut off your balls and serve them as a delicacy for dessert.”

Breaker taps his chin. “Hmm, decisions, decisions.”

The wedding planner comes up to us and says, “The guests are coming, but remember, no conversations, just a quick wave, because we need the bride and groom out by the sunset to take final pictures.”

The crowd walks in, everyone happy, chatting, and heading straight toward the open bar.

“You okay?” JP asks, tugging on my hand.

I smile up at him. “Yeah, just happy for Huxley and Lottie.”

Not sure he buys it, because he continues to study me, but thankfully, Lottie and Huxley head back outside and we follow behind. There are only a few stragglers left on the rooftop taking some pictures.

“Just the bride and the groom right now, if everyone else would step to the side,” the planner says. “And guests should head into the reception space.”

Two girls taking pictures of themselves in front of the sunset offer their apologies, and as they work their way up the aisle, one of them, the one in a skintight lavender dress, makes eye contact with JP and smiles broadly. JP shifts next to me as she presses her hand to his chest and in passing, says, “Compared to this morning, you look amazing. Congrats on the new sister-in-law.” She offers him a wink and then heads into the reception area.

The world around me fades to nothing.

Compared to this morning?

He was with her this morning?

My lip trembles.

My heart thunders in my chest.

And I feel like I’m going to puke.

“Kelsey,” JP whispers, “it’s not what you think.”

Not here.

Not now.

Pictures have to be taken.

I’ll deal with this later.

Push it to the side. Blacken your soul.

Don’t show your emotion.

You can do this, Kelsey.

You have to do this.