Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Chapter 19
* * *
BLAIR
When I spotted Tate walking toward me, I nearly had a heart attack. It wasn’t like I could turn around now.
He looked so damn gorgeous in his tux. My heart ached. Everything ached with the need to touch him, despite what I now knew to be true: I would never be able to touch him again.
“Blair...” he murmured before looking over his shoulder.
I shook my head, feeling tears in my eyes. “I don’t understand, Tate.”
“I don’t either, but we need to talk about how we’re gonna handle this.”
Looking beyond his broad shoulders, I whispered, “Well, we can’t do that here.”
“Are you staying at the hotel tonight?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ll come to you later…after the wedding is over.”
A chill ran down my spine. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if someone sees us together?”
“I’ll be careful,” he said. “We have to risk it, because we need to talk.”
I knew that was true. There was so much I needed to say to him. So many questions. “Okay.” I licked my lips. “Yeah.”
“What room are you in?”
I closed my eyes trying to remember. “One thirty-five.”
“Okay.” He exhaled. “I’ll come see you later.”
“All right.”
Tate looked over his shoulder one last time before he disappeared into the bathroom.
I felt an odd thrill at the prospect of him coming to my room later, though any chance of us being together again had died the moment I’d realized he was Taylor’s father.
I needed to remind myself of that, because for a moment I’d gotten lost in the idea of My Tate. My Tate no longer existed. My Tate was an illusion, because he’d been Taylor’s father the entire time. Theodore. Taylor’s fucking father! Why had he given me a fake name? That didn’t make any sense considering how much value he’d placed on knowing my real name. Tate had told me he wasn’t a liar. I’d even told Taylor about him in the years since, referring to him as Tate. Taylor had never seemed to suspect a thing.
Returning to my assigned table, I sat in a daze, unable to think about anything but meeting Tate later.
A voice interrupted my thoughts. “Blair?”
I turned to find a guy around my age smiling at me. “I’m Adam.”
This was the person Taylor wanted to set me up with. I’d been hiding in the bathroom since arriving here, so I hadn’t seen him. This poor guy had no clue he’d be getting the absolute worst of me tonight.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Hi.” I took his offered hand. “Very nice to meet you.”
So not in the mood for this right now.
“I work with Taylor.”
“Yes.” I forced a smile. “He mentioned that we’d be sitting together.”
“You guys go way back, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Taylor and I were camp counselors together for many years, and we’ve remained close.”
“That’s so cool. He’s such an awesome guy. I’m very happy for him and Juliana.”
“Yeah. Me too. They’re perfect together.”
An awkward silence filled the space between us as I gulped down all of my water in about ten seconds. Maybe I should just leave. I could go to my room now. Taylor might not even notice.
Suddenly the thought of having to make small talk with this poor guy while freaking out about Tate made me ill.
“Excuse me.” I stood and left the table.
That was most definitely rude, but I needed some air before I passed out.
Escaping out a side door to a veranda that overlooked Boston in the distance, I took a deep breath.
Truths about this situation continued to bombard me, like the fact that the woman I’d spotted earlier standing next to Taylor’s father was actually Tate’s girlfriend. Taylor had said his dad had just started dating someone. So it was new. Jealousy hit me like a ton of bricks. But I couldn’t look at this situation like that. I had to see him as Taylor’s father now, not Tate. I had to get myself to understand that this wasn’t a reunion. It was something entirely different, something he and I had to figure out how to handle.
“Blair?”
I turned to find Taylor standing at the entry to the veranda.
“Hey!” I feigned my best smile as my heart accelerated.
He tilted his head. “What are you doing out here?”
I placed my hand on my stomach. “I started to feel a little queasy, believe it or not. Just wanted to get some air.”
“Shit. Can I get you some water or anything?”
“No.” I waved him off. “Please go enjoy your wedding. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be absolutely fine after a few minutes.”
I didn’t like the idea of Taylor paying any attention to my behavior tonight, because if he looked closely, he’d figure out that something was very wrong.
“You sure I can’t get you anything?”
I shook my head. “No, but how did you know I was out here? You’re supposed to be focused on your reception.”