Page 66 of Beg for You

Bull usually stayed out of my business, but when it came to what happened to Dane, to all of us back then, I knew he wouldn’t just sit back. And Dane had become my fucking good conscience perched on my shoulder, telling me what a fucking idiot I was being.

Christ, I shouldn’t be there, but I needed to see Cassy for myself. Despite what I said to Dane, I could never do anything to hurt her. Fuck, I loved her. And dammit, I refused to believe everything we’d shared had been a lie, no matter how I’d tried to convince myself otherwise.

I needed to see Cassy with this asshole to know she was truly happy, that this was really what she wanted. Dane had gotten in my head, and I’d spent more time than was healthy staring at that engagement notice, at the strained smile on her face. It looked false as hell, not like the smiles she’d given me.

Something just wasn’t right.

I tipped my glass up to take a sip. I hated champagne…

The glass paused halfway to my lips, my heart kicking into high gear, my gut clenching so tight it bordered on full-on cramp.

With her hand lightly on the staircase banister, Cassy descended the same steps I’d seen her disappear up the day I’d come here all those years ago after the accident, right before her father had kicked me out.

She looked flawless, breathtaking. No longer a princess—my princess—she was the ice queen tonight, and she belonged to someone else.

Yeah, that hurt. Fuck, did that hurt.

Her fiancé was walking toward her, a smug fucking smile on his face. I wanted to grab him around the throat and repeatedly smash his head against that banister Cassy had just released until he passed out. Her hand lifted and the fucker took it in his, pressing his lips to her smooth skin.

Fuck.

I slammed the champagne and grabbed another glass from a tray.

You’ve been trying to see things that aren’t there.

Maybe, but I needed to hear it from her. I’d hurt her, lied to her. Cassy sure as hell didn’t owe me anything, but if I didn’t talk to her, if I didn’t believe she was truly happy, even if that was without me, I’d lose my mind.

I moved toward them, wanting—no, needing to get closer. Her head shot up like she’d sensed me, like she knew I was there. Her eyes locked on mine and widened.

Yeah, Princess, you can’t get rid of me that easily.

I didn’t approach, but she’d seen me. I’d get my chance to talk to her.

Something moved behind her eyes, something that had my gut clenching again and my palms sweating. Christ, seeing her with someone else was killing me.

You don’t deserve her after the way you treated her.

No, I didn’t, but I didn’t care about myself or my revenge, not anymore, Cassy’s happiness was all that mattered.

I watched the fucker standing beside her put his arm around her, noting the way Cassy stiffened, the subtle way she maneuvered her body so it angled away from him, and the strained smile on her face. Yeah, the hopeful asshole inside me wanted to see something that probably wasn’t even there, wanted to believe that she didn’t want him touching her, that it wasn’t her fiancé she wanted standing beside her.

You’re fooling yourself.

What I was more than likely seeing was a woman bracing for the blow she thought I was about to deliver. She thought I was about to tear her world down in front of all these people.

I deserved that mistrust after what I’d done, but it stung all the same.

I gritted my teeth, ignored the conflicting thoughts flying around my head, and waited.

It only took fifteen minutes for her to find an excuse to seek me out. I thought it might have taken her longer with all the people surrounding her, but here she came, expression blank. I curled my hands into fists, palms itching with the need to touch her again.

People stopped her as she made her way toward me, congratulating her. She smiled tightly and nodded but didn’t stop.

My gaze moved over her, eating her up hungrily. God, I missed her, felt starved of her. Seeing her and having her eyes on me was life-giving. Pure oxygen. The way her hips swayed, the way the silky fabric of the dress she was wearing strained against her breasts—the woman made my heart pound.

She reached my side, her eyes meeting mine, but she didn’t stop. She kept walking, silently asking me to follow.

I did, trailing her from the large living area and down a hall to another staircase. She carried on up without looking back and pushed open a door to a bedroom when we reached the next level. She walked through to a set of doors and opened them, leading me out to a small private balcony.