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"Had second thoughts? Decided it wasn’t right? Went into a moment of panic?"
Felix shifts around, his gaze ping-ponging everywhere, but at my face.
"It’s okay, you can tell me. It’s not going to make a difference now, anyway."
He nods and lowers his chin to his chest. "I realized I wasn’t worthy of you… yet. That I couldn’t give you everything you needed… yet. I… I knew I needed to get my life into shape first, before I could become worthy of you."
I blink slowly. That is not what I’d expected to hear.
"You could have, at least, had the courtesy to message me directly instead of through your best man."
Felix swallows. "I’m so sorry, I… That was cowardly of me. I should have told you face to face, but I… I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing you. But I’ll make it up to you. I’m going to fight for you now."
"Excuse me?" I widen my gaze. "What do you mean fight for me?"
He begins to inch closer in the tub. "We… You and I had something, right?"
Wrong. What we had was friendship… if that. I felt the need to take care of him, the way I wanted to care for Lizzie or my father. I met Felix and saw the poor, lonely, lost boy that he was. I empathized with him and mistook it as the foundation on which to build something more.
When I stay silent, his features fall. He looks uncertain before he squares his shoulders. "We had something. I know we did. And I’m going to win you back. Just you watch."
"Felix, please, I—" I don’t think there’s a future for us. I’m attracted to your father. And much as I don’t like things about him, the sexual tension between us is something I never had with you. It made me realize this is what I was missing out on. And whether I marry him or not… I know you and I are all wrong.
"No, don’t say anything." He looks at me with that pleading look in his eyes, which is why I first noticed him. "Just tell me you’ll give me a chance."
"But—"
"At least, promise me you’ll think about it? I know I’m not my father… But I’m better than him."
"You are?"
"I’d never walk away from a child. I’d never put my career first. I’d never… be emotionally unavailable for my kids."
I flinch. It's an unwelcome reminder of things I've been trying to avoid thinking about. Namely, my desire for children and what kind of father Q would be. But Q wants to make amends. He knows what he did to Felix was wrong. It’s why he’s trying to repair his relationship with his son. And something tells me Q won’t screw up the second time around. If anything, he’ll go out of his way to ensure he does things right.
Doesn’t take away from the fact that Quentin hurt Felix. And now, he wants to hurt him further by marrying his son’s ex. I shift around to find a more comfortable position. Q’s, clearly, so overcome by emotion that he’s not thinking straight.
He knows the effect it’s going to have on Felix and he’s going to do it anyway because… That’s the connection he feels with you. That’s how much he wants you. He also saw me as a convenient way to fulfill the conditions imposed by his father for him to consolidate his position as CEO. But he could marry anyone to fulfill his obligations, and it would be a lot easier than this whole situation. There are women who would kill for this opportunity, and he chose you.
Felix must see the doubts on my features, for he pushes his advantage. "One chance; that’s all I ask."
"So you can stand me up at the altar again?"
He blushes. The red stands out against his pale skin and makes his black eye pop. The skin is more swollen than when I first saw him. I wince. That must hurt. He should put ice on it. I open my mouth to say so, then shut up. Why do I care about him when he’s the one who left me stranded there at the altar? He did you a favor. If he hadn’t had the balls to bail when he did, you’d be married to him and already regretting it.
I blow out a heavy sigh. It’s only human to help someone in need. Also, it’s clear nothing I say is going to shake him from his conviction that he has to try to win me back. The more I tell him it’d be a fruitless exercise, the more he’s going to dig in his heels and become adamant about his intentions. So instead, I rise to my feet. "You need to ice that eye." I step out of the tub.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you a pack of frozen peas." I use my towel to dry myself off quickly, then shrug into my robe. I walk back through the conservatory and into the kitchen, pull the door to the freezer open, then grab what I need. I straighten, shut the door, then yelp. Standing there, scowling at me, is my soon-to-be husband.
23
Quentin
Her big green eyes widen. I take in her flushed features, the blonde hair piled on top of her head with strands escaping. A drop of water clings to one of them. It slides off and I put out my palm and catch it. She draws in a sharp breath. I bring it to my mouth and lick off the moisture. "Why are you wet?"
"What?" she squeaks. The tell-tale movement of her legs under the robe she’s wearing tells me she’s squeezing her thighs together.
