1
Luke
“It’s over, Arianna.”
“Over?” she spits out, her eyes venomous as they hold my stare. “Oh, we’re far from over, Luke.” As I square off against Arianna in her waterfront suite, the moonlight shimmering on Seattle’s Elliot Bay below, she points a finger at me, then wags it back and forth between the two of us. “In fact, you and me, we’re just beginning.” With that, she gives a defiant lift of her chin and flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder, a dismissive gesture that I’ve grown accustomed to over the last six months. “Now go home, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you at the altar tomorrow afternoon.” She offers me her back and picks up her champagne glass, shutting me out, and this conversation down.
I glance at my watch, take in the late hour. Yeah, okay, putting the brakes on our relationship the night before our wedding is a dick move on my part, but isn’t it better to make a clean break now, before we find ourselves old and miserable and totally hating each other? Come to think of it, do we even like each other now?
“Ari—”
She spins to face me. “Do you need a Midol, or something?”
For fuck’s sake. “No, I don’t need a goddamn Midol.”
“Then stop acting like you’re PMS’ing!” she shouts back.
I shake my head. She might be a girl used to getting what she wants, but after overhearing her tell her friend she doesn’t love me, and revealing a few other facts that surprised the shit out of me, she can’t expect me to show up for the ceremony tomorrow. You’d think I’d be furious to find out her true feelings, right? But the funny thing is, I’m not really angry or upset at all, which says lot about the state of our relationship. I guess I’m grateful that I walked into the room during her private conversation. It snapped me the fuck out of the damn trance I’d been in for the last few months.
“You and I both know this is a mistake,” I say.
“A mistake?” she seethes. “How can you say that?” She finishes the champagne in her glass and struts to her kitchen to refill it. I pace her living room, glance out the floor-to-ceiling window. My gaze goes to the spectacular view of the waterfront ferris wheel at Pier 57, with the Washington state ferry in the background. Too bad I can’t quite seem to enjoy the Seattle Great Wheel, beautifully lit up this time of night. The tapping of Ari’s shoes reaches my ears as she comes back into the room.
“Why are you still here?” she asks.
“Because this conversation isn’t over.” I spin and point to the cellphone that never leaves her hand. “You just told your best friend that love isn’t important in a marriage.”
She glares at me for a long moment, the anger leaving her baby blues as dark lashes fall slowly, only to flicker back open over come-hither eyes. “Luke, honey, you know I love you. What I said, it’s just that Kari is just jealous of our relationship and I was being flippant. You know, to ease her pain, because she’ll never have what we have, baby.”
“What exactly do we have?” It’s a question I’d been asking myself all day, long before I ever learned Ari valued money over love.
She sets her glass down and sidles up to me, rubbing her lithe body against mine, another little ploy she uses when things aren’t going her way. “Together we can have it all. Remember that first weekend we spent in Boston?”
Boston? Oh yeah, I remember Boston. Remember opening the door to my hotel room after our game, and finding a naked Ari on my bed. I thought I was concussing. That maybe I’d taken one too many hits to the head earlier that night. Either that, or she’d stumbled into the wrong room. I was a rookie, and a girl like Ari, well, she could have any guy on the team—one with much more power and play than me. But no, she assured me it was the Stick Handler she was looking for—my on-ice nickname.
I wasn’t sure why she’d set her sights on me, and before I knew it, a few months had passed and she was planning an elaborate Valentine’s Day wedding. I’m not even sure I ever asked her to marry me. But the next thing I knew we were picking out a ring, and tasting pound cake with buttery icing.
I scrub the back of my neck, work out the knots. “Ari—”
Her hands go to my face, and she presses her lips to mine. “Our wedding is tomorrow Luke. Now is not the time to be getting cold feet.”
“It’s not cold feet. I just heard you tell your friend I would make a suitable husband because I could keep you in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.” Hell, maybe she picked me because, as the daughter of the man who owns the Seattle Shooters, she had insider information, knew I was about to land a significant contract and become one of the highest paid guys in the NHL. She sure as hell didn’t pick me out of love.
I shake my head, hating that I let things get so out of hand, that I let her lead me like a lamb to the slaughter. I’m a grown fucking man who can make his own decisions, so why the hell did I just go along with her, cave to everything she wanted? Oh, maybe because it was easier to be with Ari, and go with the flow—keep my mind off the one girl I’ve always loved, the girl who’d grown up next door to me, and who keeps me in the friend zone.
But now, I just can’t bring myself to go through with this marriage. We both know we’re not in love, and we’d be making a big mistake if we exchanged vows tomorrow. I remove her arms from my neck and place them at her sides. Her fingers grip her phone tighter, and her mood darkens.
I exhale slowly. “Why don’t you call your friends. Have them come stay the night.” I might not love her, but I care about her. And even though she just admitted she didn’t love me, that months ago her father threatened to cut up her credit cards if she didn’t settle herself into a career, I’m still a decent human being who doesn’t want to see anyone upset.
“You
can’t do this to me,” she says, her voice bordering on hysterical.
“Please, Ari.” I put my hand on her arm, give it a reassuring squeeze. “You know in your heart this isn’t right. You’ll find the perfect guy for you in time.” Although with her father threatening to cut up her credit cards, time is not on her side. I guess that’s why she latched on to me so quick. She was desperate for a rich daddy figure who would help her keep the socialite lifestyle she’s grown accustomed to, and never make her work for anything she wants. It’s a role I can no longer go along with.