Not Cohen, like he was to the rest, but Henry. The tall, brooding, dark, handsome guy the world saw on the outside, but the soft, sweet, caring man on the inside who now made thelikes of Reed Easton look pathetic. There’d never be anyone who could make me feel the way he had over the last few days, not even in fiction.
Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on the conversation happening somewhere above me, about me.
“I’ve had enough of your bullshit. You’ve been lying to me from day one of this trip.”Andy.
“What the hell is going on?”Jace.
“Nothing!”Henry.
“You don’t get to do that.”Andy. “Tell him. Tell him what the fuck you’ve been doing.”
Then a muttering of conversation took place I couldn’t quite hear until…
“Don’t you dare fucking speak her name again, Andy, or I swear to God, you won’t know what’s hit you.”
The sound of Henry’s threat made me move. I couldn’t let him do this alone. For once, he deserved someone to stand by his side because that’s the only place they wanted to be, not out of some sense of duty.
Pushing the bathroom door open, I charged up the small flight of stairs until I stood on the deck with the sun blazing down on me, and the whole scene unfolding before my eyes.
Andy and Henry were toe to toe, with Henry towering over him, his body ready for the fight, tense, barely tethered together, while Andy stood beneath him, staring up, daring him to make his next move. Jace pushed at both their chests, trying to separate them, but they were walls of stubbornness, neither one moving an inch.
Bailey and Rhea stood off to the side, Rhea’s arm wrapped around Bailey protectively as the pair watched on.
“Guys, come on,” Jace strained, trying to push the men apart. “This will only end in tears, and I’m not the kinda guy who packsKleenex for a day out. Fuck, you two don’t skip chest day, do you?”
“What’s the matter, Cohen?” Andy taunted, ignoring Jace. “Don’t like hearing the truth?”
Henry glowered down at his best friend. “You don’t want to ruin this.”
“Ruin this?” Andy barely held in his sardonic laugh. “You think there’s a brotherhood after this.” He jabbed at Henry’s chest. “You promised me, Cohen. You promisedher.”
“We’ve been over for months! When will you get that through that thick head of yours? I’ve had enough of you thinking you get a say in who I do and don’t spend time with.”
“So, you admit you’ve been screwing around with Phoebe all this time?”
Silence descended over the catamaran. Everyone focused on the men in front of us… until Rhea and Bailey slowly turned my way as though seeing me back on deck for the very first time. The friend they’d helped escape England. The one who’d lied to them so easily.
I took each of them in, not knowing what to do or say. All I could think about was breaking Henry’s trust. Exposing this secret. Letting him down.
Because he mattered to me. More than I ever meant him to.
With steely determination tearing through my blood, I turned back to the guys. “If there’s something you wish to know aboutmeand the decisionsI’vemade these last two weeks, Andy, here I am. Go right ahead. Ask away. But you don’t get to talk about me as though I’m not here or part of this.”
He slowly turned my way, and I saw his surprise playing out in his expression. “I have no beef with you, Phoebe. You don’t need to be involved in this conversation.”
“Pretty sure I just heard my name in your argument, which means I’m already involved whether I want to be or not.”
“You should walk away.”
“And you should learn not to tell people how to live their goddamn lives all the time.”
Henry closed his eyes and exhaled a breath, his chest heaving in and out slowly before he looked up again and slowly tilted his head my way. When our gazes connected, I became desperate to go to him, but I somehow held myself in place, rock steady, solid, determined not to fuck this up for both of us—especially him.
Had anyone ever fought for him before?
Stuck up for him since his parents died?
Or had he led a life of servitude ever since, making sure everyone around him felt his gratitude for their kindness, even if that kindness had turned self-serving along the way? Had anyone really cared about Henry’s wellbeing? His thoughts? His wants? His desires? His needs?
