The Honeymoon Arrangement
Summary: “But how are we going to pretend to be married when we don’t even have rings?”
I raise a finger at my best friend. “About that…” Going over to his jacket, I dig out the black box I found in there earlier, opening it up. As painful as it is, I slip on the wedding ring Neal bought for me, stopping halfway when sadness courses through me, my eyes welling with tears. I manage to get the ring all the way on, my stomach plummeting. It occurs to me that if the wedding hadn’t been interrupted, I’d be married right now, the reception would’ve started and I’d be Mrs. Emma Cassidy.
But that’s not my reality. Not anymore.
This is my reality—sliding on a ring that no longer belongs to me so I can go on a honeymoon without a man I didn’t end up marrying. Instead of dwelling on those facts and breaking down in tears, I take a deep breath and rein in my emotions, pushing down the repulsion I feel from wearing a ring that was once beautiful but is now tainted with Neal’s betrayal. I return to Killian and get down on one knee, extending the platinum band with a satin finish that was originally intended for Neal.
“Killian Arthur Jones, will you be my fake husband?”
Chapter 5
I don’t actually order Emma another cocktail. No, what she needs is some sleep. But if I told her I was getting her some water, she would’ve flagged down the server and ordered more Mai Tais. Then she’d never forgive me for allowing her to drink so much. Actually, she would, but she’d be even more hungover than she’s about to be in the morning.
When the bartender slides the tall glass over to me, I thank him and turn around, heading back to Emma. My heart is in shambles for her and what that wanker said. If there weren’t an ocean and five thousand miles between us, I’d track Neal down and rearrange the rest of his—
The glass almost falls from my hands, my feet halting when I notice the seat where Emma was sitting on the crescent sofa is empty.
Panic ripples through me, my face paling as I look around.
“Fuck,” I groan, setting down the water on a table and reaching into my pocket for my phone so I can call her.
Maybe she just went back up to the suite.
I’m fucking praying she went back up to the suite. I dig my phone out of my pocket and press the button to unlock it, my brows furrowing in confusion when the picture of Emma and me posing together on the plane is displayed. While I love that photo of us, it’s not my home screen. I turn the phone over, seeing the Stranger Things case I got for her last Christmas.
I’m panicking even more, realizing I not only left her alone drunk off her ass, but I left her without a phone.
If something happens to Emma, her parents are going to murder me in cold blood. Hell, I’d pull the trigger myself.
I feel sick to my stomach, a chill skating down my spine at even the thought of something happening to my girl. Getting trafficked or raped or murdered or all three. And it will all be my fault.
Fuck, I have to find her.
Hurrying over to the sofa, I approach the group of people who were sitting next to us, running a nervous hand through my hair. “Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt, but did you happen to see where blonde woman sitting here went?”
The woman offers a drunken smile. “Oh yeah, she went that way with some guy.” She points in the direction she’s referring to.
If he lays one finger on her, I will fucking kill him, I swear to God.
I thank the lass and turn around, my eyes searching frantically for Emma, my heart hammering in my ear. I weave between tables, my gaze sifting through the crowd until I see golden hair and the red, floral printed dress she was wearing. I let out the longest sigh of relief as I move quickly toward her, but this asshole has his hands all over her body.
My blood is sizzling, and I clench my fists when he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle. He pulls her close and leans in to kiss her neck, his hands roaming toward her butt, his other one on her thigh, moving up underneath her dress.
I take a fistful of his Hawaiian shirt and yank him off of her.
Emma looks very confused when she blinks at me as if she’s not sure if I’m real or if she’s imagining me. I drag the bloke off the dance floor and over into the grass so as not to cause a scene, looking over my shoulder to make sure Emma is following behind me. My knuckles are white as I tighten my hands around his shirt and shove him into a tree.
“Hey, what the hell, man?”
“The lady’s coming with me.” I breathe through my nose, trying to remain calm, but my voice has a growly bite to it, my jaw muscles twitching. If I knew I wouldn’t get kicked out of the hotel and have to sleep on the beach, I’d punch this guy in the throat.
“She’s dancing with me,” he argues, trying to free my hands. “And we were having a good time until you came along.”
“Is that what you call it?” This guy doesn’t even smell like alcohol, only cheap cologne. “Taking advantage of women who are too drunk to give their consent?”
“Hey, you can’t tell me you’ve never done the same.” He talks to me like we’re best mates. Like just because we’re both men we want all of the same things and think the same way. It’s pathetic.
I grit my teeth. “I haven’t, nor would I ever.”
He looks back at her, undressing her with his eyes and then reverting them back to me, leaning in close and speaking quietly. “Come on, I’ll give you two hundred bucks to buzz off and let me have her?” He grins. “What do you say?”
What the actual fuck? Did I hear him correctly because I think he just asked me if I would walk away and let him have his way with her, which probably involves taking her behind a bush so he can rape her. I give him the fakest chuckle I can manage, pretending to consider his offer, and he laughs with me. “You want me to walk away so you can have her?”
He grins and shrugs like why wouldn’t he want that. “Come on, you’ll help a guy out, won’t you?”
My smile vanishes as I grab his arm and turn him around, bringing it behind his back and twisting his wrist as I press him hard against the tree.
He hisses and groans in pain. “Get the fuck off me.” He makes an effort to escape my hold.
I tighten my grip as I give him a stern warning in his ear, my tone dark and cold. “How about I make you another deal? If you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and promise not to look at or lay one finger on my friend ever again, I’ll let you go with your spleen intact.” I twist his wrist a bit further, making him twitch.
“Alright, alright, I promise!”
“I’ll leave her alone! Just let me go.”
Releasing him, I wait for him to walk away and instead, he runs away, almost tripping over his feet.
I go over to Emma and scoop her into my arms, picking her up bridal style and carrying her back inside the hotel.
“What are you doing? I don’t need a dashing rescue. I can take care of myself.” Her words are slurred and unconvincing.
“Emma, you’re drunk and that guy’s hands were all over you.”
“Well maybe I wanted his hands all over me.”
“You’re too inebriated to know what you want right now.”
She scowls. “You told me to have fun so that’s what I was trying to do.” She rests her head against my chest, closing her eyes.
“Aye, but I didn’t mean to dance with some strange guy while you’re smashed and sleep with him.”
When I head inside and past the front desk, I flash the concierge a small smile. “The wife had a little too much to drink.”
The woman laughs. “It happens a lot around here, believe me.”
Reaching the elevator I crouch down a little and tap the button. It opens almost immediately and I step inside, setting Emma down and pushing the button for the top floor. I hold her close to me so she doesn’t fall over.
She looks up at me with those gorgeous, heart-melting eyes and dons a slight smirk. “You weren’t jealous of that guy, were you?”
I shake my head. “No.” On one hand, I don’t like the idea of any man putting their hands on Emma, but I would never be in that wanker’s shoes. I’d never try anything with her while she’s drunk. I look her in the eyes and lift my hand to caress her cheek. “I was worried when you weren’t on the couch where I left you. I thought something bad might’ve happened to you.”
She melts against me. “Aww, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. “I was just trying to forget about…” She looks up at me again, furrowing her brows. “What was his name?.
I chuckle. “Doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.” I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.
“I always feel safe with you, Killian. Don’t ever leave me.”
My heart flutters as I stroke her hair and drop a kiss to the crown of her head. “Never.”
When we reach the top floor, I dig out the hotel key, pick Emma up again and carry her to our suite, tapping the card and using my foot to prop open the door. As soon as I set Emma on her feet, she holds her stomach, and her face is as pale as a sheet.
“I’m gonna be sick.” She dashes to the bathroom.
I follow behind her, kneel beside her and gather her long blonde hair in my hands, holding it in place as she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
It’s a good five minutes before she’s finished, and I hand her a Kleenex to wipe her mouth, throwing it into the toilet and flushing it down. She’s out of breath, still recovering when she falls back to the floor. I sit behind her and pull her toward me, letting her lean into me so she doesn’t have to lie on the floor. I sink back against the wall, stroking her hair and giving her time to recuperate. It’s not exactly what I envisioned for our first night in Hawaii, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here taking care of her.
After a while, I suggest she move to the bed, and I help her up before getting her a glass of water. I step out of the bathroom so she can empty her bladder and brush her teeth, and I help her to bed when she’s done.
“I haven’t seen you this hammered since karaoke night at Station Bistro two years ago,” I point out, kneeling down in front of her as she sits on the edge of the bed so I can remove her sandals.
She groans and covers her face with her hands. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
I chuckle and shake my head. "Not a chance."
We met up with some high school friends in Boston for our twenty-first birthdays, and I can't remember everything that happened that night, but I do remember singing “Time of My Life” with Emma and getting a foot in the face. She was always shy about singing in front of everyone—I have no idea why, though, because she has such a beautiful voice—so I offered to go up on stage with her, and our friends picked a fun duet track. And no, I didn't even attempt the Patrick Swayze lift. We were both too drunk for that.
Emma knocked back a few Vodka shots beforehand for some liquid courage, and it didn’t take long for her to warm up to the crowd. Everyone was cheering us on and whistling as we danced together and sang our hearts out into our mics. We put on a damn good performance…up until the end when Emma got so confident, she tried to do a cartwheel and ended up kicking me in the face—not very hard—and knocking down the microphone stand. If that’s not bad enough, she ran out of the bar and almost puked all over an innocent bystander, but they dodged out of the way just in time.
I chuckle as I set down her sandals. “Stop apologizing. I was fine.” I smirk. “Plus, it makes for a fun story that I get to bring up every time you get drunk.” I rise, leaving my palm on her calf as I gently knead my thumb into her skin.
Emma closes her eyes and leans back on her hands, so I go over to the dresser to find her some clothes before she ends up falling asleep. But when I sift through her drawers, I remember her telling me she didn’t bring any pajamas. So I grab one of my t-shirts and set it on the bed.
Helping her out of her dress, I drape it over a chair and grab my red Storybrooke Fire Department t-shirt. She’s wearing a blue lacy bra and matching panties, and I try to look away but it’s very difficult. Her body is so beautiful, and she doesn’t bother hiding herself in front of me. She lifts her arms, allowing me to pull the shirt over her body. Once it’s on, she grabs the material and brings it to her nose, taking in the scent. My heartbeat quickens.
“I love this shirt. It always smells like you. It smells like home.”
In other circumstances, I would’ve told her to keep it, but then she stealthily removes her bra with the shirt still completely on, pulling it out through the sleeve like a magician and tossing it to the floor.
I have to refrain from groaning, knowing my t-shirt is touching her spectacular, naked breasts, her hard nipples poking into the fabric. I’m never washing the damn thing again.
Shaking the thought from my mind, I help her up so I can pull away the blankets. She sits back, and I lift her legs, helping her under the covers and tucking her in. I sit on the edge of the bed and kiss her cheek. “Get some sleep, love.” I try to leave to let her sleep in peace, but she tugs on my hand. “Killian…”
“What is it?’ I ask softly. I can’t see her face clearly because the lights are off, but I’ve already committed every feature to memory, from the flecks of gold in her eyes to her high cheekbones and soft, pink lips.
“Please don’t go.” She pats the spot next to her. “Stay with me.”
I don’t even have to think about her request before I go to the other side, stripping down to my boxers and sliding in next to her. She moves closer, resting her head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight. I can smell her sweet perfume and her strawberry scented hair as I stroke her golden locks. Her body is so soft and warm against mine, and I’m sure she can hear how hard my heart is pounding right now.
God help me. I take a deep, trembling breath as I pull the covers over both of us.
“I think Neal might’ve been right about something.”
Her statement comes out of nowhere, and it makes my heart flutter in panic. Does Emma know how I feel about her? “Right about what, love?” I angle my head to peer down at her.
She lets out a long sigh as if preparing for a long-winded speech. “Do you remember when our high school held casual dances after the home football games in the cafeteria?”
“Aye, I remember that.” They moved all the tables and chairs and had a DJ, letting the students hang out and dance to dissuade them from going to parties after the games. Of course there were parties, but the cafeteria was still packed after every home game.
“Well, do you remember junior year when I would meet you there after I came back with the band?” Emma was in color guard and performed during halftime. After the band members and color guard were released, they would return to the school through the back entrance near the band room to change out of their outfits and uniforms. Then Emma would go around to the main entrance since the cafeteria was closed off to the back doors by a gate so she’d have to pay for a ticket to get into the dance. We always met there after the game, even though she was exhausted from dancing, waving flags and twirling batons while trying not to hit anyone in the face.
“Aye.” I furrow my brows, not sure why she’s bringing this up or what this has to do with the things Neal said.
“And the one time when I texted you, saying I was feeling under the weather?”
Emma places her hand on my bare chest, making my heart pound even harder. “I wasn’t actually sick.”
I arch my brow at her. “You weren’t?”
She shakes her head against my chest, her fingers toying with my chest hair. “No.” She looks up at me again, her green eyes practically glowing in the darkness. “After I changed my clothes, I went out into the hall and saw you through the gate. I ran over to say hi to you…” She trails off and swallows.
I try to think back to that night, but I don’t remember Emma coming over to say hi to me through the gate.
“Then I saw Tina Bell approach you and kiss you on the lips. You smiled and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor.” Her voice is barely there at this point, and the air thickens with tension.
Again, I’m not sure why she’s bringing all of this up. I wrinkle my brows in confusion. “Tina Bell?” I scratch my head, having to think about it for a moment before it finally comes to me. “Oh yeah, Tink.” Tink is the nickname all her friends called her, and she was an exchange student from New Zealand, so she only attended Storybrooke High for a year. Probably why I didn’t remember her at first. “She was a nice girl.”
I can see Emma roll her eyes through the darkness. “Don’t remind me. She was beautiful and had a foreign accent. It was hard to compete with that.”
A chuckle quickly dies in my throat as I mull over her words. “What do you mean compete?”
Emma lets out another heavy breath. “Well, in that moment, when I saw you with her, I realized my feelings had grown for you.”
“Oh,” I mutter, not exactly sure what she means by that. “Grown how?”
She swats my chest, but it’s definitely not very hard since she’s so sleepy. I’m even surprised she’s talking about this right now. “I had a huge crush on you, idiot.” She lays her head back down on my chest.
A hard lump forms in my throat as I stare blankly at her face, trying to process what she’s telling me. “You did?”
“Yes. And I didn’t even know until I saw you holding hands with Tina, because I suddenly couldn’t breathe, and my heart stopped in my chest as I clung to the gate watching you walk away with her.”
My heart crumbles into a million pieces after hearing her confession. “I had no idea…” How did I not know this? I thought I knew everything about Emma. All the guys she’s dated. All her crushes, everyone she hated in high school. She always told me everything.
“Yeah, I know, it was stupid. I even drew pink hearts around all of your yearbook photos. Even the ones from previous years.”
“Wait, so that’s why our class page was ripped out? You told me the dog did it.”
“I couldn’t tell you the truth. You seemed happy with Tina and I didn’t want to fuck things up with her.”
She waves off my words. “I didn’t want things to be weird between us, so I shoved down my feelings, and eventually the crush wore off when I convinced myself you would never feel the same way about me.”
I sink my head back into the pillow and just stare at the ceiling. I can’t believe I never knew she had a crush on me in high school. Then again, I was a moron in school. My head was obviously up in the clouds if I didn’t even figure out that my best friend was crushing on me. “I’m sorry…”
I lift my head, caressing her cheek as I stare into her beautiful green orbs. “For hurting you.”
“You didn’t know. Besides, it’s in the past.”
“I know, but…I forced myself to keep our friendship platonic.”
She arches her brow. “You did?”
I nod. “I liked what we had. I still do, I was happy with how things were and I didn’t want to change anything. I wasn’t craving or needing something more with you because what we had was just too perfect.”
I can hear the soft hitch in her breath as she scans my face. “I like what we have too. It was just stupid hormones, not to mention you were super cute.” She smirks, running a hand over my stubble. “You still are,” she says dreamily, making my heart spike again.
I chuckle, my cheeks heating under her palm as I tuck some golden strands behind her ear.
“And I think that Neal sensed I used to have feelings for you. Sometimes when I look at you, I…I think back to that time.”
“So, you’re saying Milksop’s not as boneheaded as we thought?”
She snorts. “No, he’s definitely a bonehead.”
I chuckle as I kiss her forehead. “For sure.” I don’t tell her that he’s also right about me being in love with her. I don’t want to give the bastard too much credit.
“Thank you for being my friend, Killian.” Yawning, she closes her eyes, wraps her arms around me and snuggles closer, draping a leg over my waist.
So much for the pillow idea.
“Thank you for telling me all that, love.” Lord knows she has more courage than I do, because I sure as hell don’t have the balls to tell her what I’m feeling for her right now. I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good vacation or friendship, especially since I know she doesn’t return my feelings.