Free AlwaysYou by Karen Stivali

Chapter One
     
    Jon raced Shari down the hallway of the hotel, feeling as if
they were back in college again. The keycard jammed the first two times he
shoved it into the door. She tried to grab it from him, but her fingers were
drunk and clumsy and she wound up gripping his wrist instead. The sight of her
fingers curled around any part of him sent his brain into overdrive, nearly
making him forget how bad he needed to pee.
    The door opened wide, banging into the closet behind it.
    “Shhhhh,” she said, louder than he could imagine anyone
making the shushing sound. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”
    “Fine, I’ll be quiet, in the bathroom.” He scooted past her
and slammed the door. The toilet lid clanged against the tank. “Unhhh.” It felt
so good to finally get some relief. Shari banged on the door.
    “Hurry up, I’ve gotta go.”
    The sound of her voice made him want to keep his cock in his
hand a few minutes longer to relieve the other type of tension that had been
coursing through him all night.
    “Jon, I mean it. I’m gonna pee on the floor.”
    He tucked himself back into his pants then flushed. The
second he opened the door, she stumbled into the bathroom and slammed it in his
face.
    As much as he wanted her, he knew tonight wasn’t the night.
She was as drunk as he’d seen her in years. She had every right to be trashed.
It wasn’t every day a woman walked out on her own wedding. He still couldn’t
believe she’d done it.
    For years he’d tried to convince her that Phil was not the
guy for her, but she’d never listened. She always had an excuse for whatever
bullshit Phil was doing. “He’s under a lot of stress at work.” “These women all
come on to him, he can’t help it.”
    Every time she’d defended him it had made Jon’s blood boil,
but he knew how stubborn Shari was. If he’d tried to push too hard he’d have
been pushing her even closer to Phil. She was contrary and defiant and hated
being told what was best for her. When she’d shown up on Jon’s doorstep,
suitcase in hand the morning of her wedding, he thought she needed a ride to
the church.
    Instead, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into his
bedroom, a scenario he’d envisioned countless times over the course of their
friendship. Since they’d first met he’d never wanted anything more than for her
to be in his bed, but that had never happened. She always had a boyfriend and
he was stuck in the friend zone, watching as she went from one bad boyfriend to
the next.
    * * * * *
    “I’m leaving Phil,” she said, swinging open his closet door
and dragging his suitcase out into the middle of his floor. “And you’re coming
with me. I paid for this honeymoon and I’m going to enjoy it.”
    “What?” had been the only response he’d been able to muster.
    She ran jittery hands through her auburn hair, pushing it
back off her face. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I went snooping and I found
a bunch of emails. He’s still seeing his ex. Three years with me and he’s still
with her. They’ve got plans to hook up as soon as we get home from our
honeymoon.” Her voice had cracked, betraying the hurt behind her manic bravado.
    “So you’re calling off the wedding?” His heart was beating
in his ears as he tried to process what she was saying.
    “I’m not going to bother calling it off. Let him get there
and stand up in front of everyone and wait for me to walk down the aisle. Let
him be the one humiliated for a change. I’ll be at the airport with my best
friend and by the time he figures out what happened we’ll be on our way to
Aruba. Unless you don’t want to.” Her hand froze on the stack of t-shirts she’d
been about to shove into the suitcase. Her brown eyes were rimmed with red,
full of hope and fear as she looked up at him.
    He’d have agreed to anything to get that hurt look off her
face. “If that’s what you want, I’m your man.” How he wished that were true on
all levels.
    * * * *