004: Made Your Legs Go Weak

MEEKA'S POV::

I grab the porcelain sink, splashing cold water on my face, but it does nothing to cool the fire racing through my veins.

The restroom feels too small, too bright, and utterly too loud with the pounding of my heart.

I shouldn't be shaken. I was drunk, and it was just one night. One stupid, reckless night of mistake. So I should just calm down, wash my face, go back to the party, and act like the perfect fiancee I've always been.

I nod at myself, smoothing down my dress. I give my lips a little more lipstick, retouch my makeup and breathe out slowly as I stare at myself in the mirror to make sure I'm perfect.

I smile and pick my purse. But just when I'm about to walk out, the door clicks open, and I freeze.

Slade steps in like the restroom belongs to him, shutting the door with a deliberate care. His reflection catches mine in the mirror, that damn smirk carved across his lips, like he's enjoying a private joke only he understands.

“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend.

“Relax, Rebel.” His tone is lazy, indulgent, like he's savoring the moment. He strolls closer, not stopping until the air between us thins, heat sparking in the narrow space. “I just came to check on my soon-to-be sister-in-law.”

The words drip with mockery.

I whirl around to face him, heart slamming against my ribs.

“Yeah, go ahead. We had sex, and now you found out I'm your brother's fiancée. Now go ahead and tell everyone.” My breath catches as he moves even closer.... way too close that I can feel his heat seeping into me, stealing every ounce of oxygen.

His cologne. God, that strong, masculine and addictive one from last night, wraps around me and I swear, I lose my breath for a moment.

“Why would I do that?” he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous, vibrating down my spine. Chills break out across my skin, except they're not the kind that come from fear.

“You... you aren't going to say anything?” The question sounds childish and pathetic, even to my own ears, but it tumbles out before I can stop it.

He leans in, grazing his lips on my ear as he whispers, “Only boys fuck and go around announcing it.”

My knees nearly buckle at his words. Damn this man!

I push at his chest, but he doesn't budge even a little. His eyes glitter with mischief, with possession, with the memory of last night burned into both of us.

“You're insane,” I breathe, trying to edge around him.

“Maybe," he says, not bothering to block me, because he knows knows he already has me cornered. “But I'm not the one choking on champagne at the sight of me.”

I glare at him, narrowing my eyes as something suspicious hits me suddenly.

“You knew I was your brother's fiancee all along, didn't you?”

God. Why have I decided to sound so stupid right now?

“If I knew you were, Baby Girl....” Slade's smirk widens, intentional and slow, “I'd have fucked you harder. Made sure your legs were too sore and weak to even walk into this little engagement party of yours.”

I choke on nothing but air, heat rushing up my neck as the image burns itself into my mind. God. Why am I picturing it? Why does my pulse harmer like this?

Jesus, help me. I'm losing my damn mind.

Slade leans back, his eyes dragging down my body like he owns it, as he continues. “But then again...” his chuckle vibrates low in his chest, “...it isn't too late.”

My breathe shakes, and my legs nearly give way, almost tripping. But he catches and steadies me, smirking.

What the hell does be mean by that?

But before I can ponder too much on that, a knock rattles the door.

“Meeka? Are you okay in there?” Nathaniel's voice filters through, muffled but clear.

My heart leaps to my throat. I glance at Slade in panic, but he only grins wider, stepping back toward the other exit door, the one leading to God knows where.

I didn't even know there was another exit door until now.

“See you around, Rebel,” he drawls, disappearing like smoke before I can catch my breath.

I'm left trembling against the sink, my pulse racing, the echo of his laughter curling around me long after he's gone.

I splash more water on my face, steadying myself. When I finally step out, Nathaniel is waiting. Concern shadows his eyes as he cups my elbow. 

“Are you sure you're alright?”

I force a smile, my throat dry. “Yeah. I just needed a long moment in there.”

He brushes his thump across my cheek, and I almost flinch at how rough that feels on my skin.

His touch has never been tender in me. Yes, I'm talking about the man I've been in love with for years. Nathaniel.

And it feels worse today. It feels nothing like his brother's....

The thought slams into me, vile and intoxicating all at once. And I almost gasped out, horrified at myself.

I'm going crazy! I think I need to see my therapist first thing tomorrow morning.

**

MEEKA'S POV::

“Ugh! Stop ringing already!” I groan, tugging a strand of hair out of my mouth. My head is pounding, and my body's heavy from last night's chaos, and that stupid alarm us making it worse.

It's ringing again. I swear, I'm this close to grabbing and flinging it across the room, until something clicks in my head, and I realize It's morning.

I jolt upright, snatch my phone, and my eyes nearly pop out when I see the time. “Holy crap! I'm late for work.”

I bolt into the bathroom, and in what feels lile seconds, I'm out again, probably still covered in half the soap, but who cares right now? I'm freaking late.

A minute later, I'm flying down the stairs with my hair in a tangled mess, my bag is half-open, and I'm juggling my phone and laptop like a lunatic. I'm pretty sure I'm wearing mismatched shoes, but honestly... priorities. 

“Why the hell didn't you wake me up, Jeremy?” I yell, like It's somehow his fault I forgot what day it is.

“I didn't know I was your P.A now,” Jeremy shots back dryly.

God, I forgot how annoying he is.

“Sit down and eat before leaving. I made you breakfast,” he says, way too cheerfully, with that smile I don't trust.

I eye the scrambled eggs suspiciously, then pick up a fork. My heart's already pounding... this feels like a death sentence.

But maybe he's improved?

Wrong. If anything, Jeremy's cooking got worse. The second it touches my tongue, I spit it right out.

Pepper, salt, and every spice in the world is inside the egg. Jesus, my tongue is on fire.

“Thanks for the breakfast, Jeremy. And thanks for killing my taste buds.” I say between burns, taking a gulp of water down my throat, hoping it helps. But it doesn't.

Before Jeremy can reply, I'm out of the house, trying to fan my tongue with my already full hands.

Ugh! Can my day get any worse?

I reach my car, toss everything inside, and slide into the driver's seat, heaving a deep sigh before pushing the car keys into the hole.

But just as I'm about to start the engine, my phone rings, and it's Nathaniel.

I frown at his name that's flashing on the screen. 

Why is Nathaniel calling me this early?

This is weird. He's not exactly a morning person, and he never even calls this early.

I sigh and swipe to answer. “Hello?” 

“Meeka, dear.”

It's not Nathaniel's voice. It's his mother's. Vanessa DeWitt.

Why is Vanessa calling me with Nathaniel's phone?

“Mrs. DeWitt? Good morning. Is everything okay?”

“Meeka, darling, I need you to come over right now.” her tone is clipped and urgent, like she's holding back panic.

My pulse kicks up instantly. “What? Why? Did something happen?”

There's a pause at her end. I can hear faint murmuring in the background, maybe the staff. And then, her voice drops lower. “Just come, dear. It's very urgent.”

“Is is Nathaniel? Is he okay?” My voice is breaking in complete panic.

What the hell is going on?

“Just come fast!” Vanessa repeats in a sharper tone, and then she hangs up before I can ask anything else.

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, cold dread crawling through my veins. My stomach twists as worst-case scenarios flood in.

Is he sick? Hurt? Did something happen after last night's party?

God, what if really bad has happened?