Runaway Bride’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #1)

3. Stella

3

stella

I might have grown up a lot since being with Duncan, but one thing I don’t know I’ll ever grow out of is acting—or speaking—without thinking.

Sometimes I’m able to catch myself. Others not so much.

Like right now. Now is other times.

All I knew in the moment was I needed to see Duncan. I didn’t think about how I raced out of the room in my hideous wedding dress. I didn’t think that guests of the hotel, along with guests of the wedding, were going to see me get in the elevator. Heck, I barely remembered to grab my cell phone and shove it into the pockets I had sewn in.

If I’m going to wear an ugly dress, let’s at least make it practical.

“Getting married?”

I’m startled by the voice that’s apparently inside the elevator with me. I turn to see a woman, probably in her fifties, looking at me up and down. And is she serious? Why else does she think I’d be wearing a dress that literally takes up half the occupancy of this space?

“Yes,” I say with a very fake smile. “About an hour from now. ”

“How nice,” she says. “Your dress is beautiful. Looks just like the one I wore when I married my first husband.”

My smile goes from fake to mortified, and I’ve never been so happy to have the elevator stop on a floor. Hers, thank God, because I need her to exit so I can internally scream, which is probably going to become an external scream the second the door closes.

“Ahhhh!!!” Yup. External. “What am I doing?”

I’m pacing back and forth in the elevator—which is three steps each way—as that question rolls through my head. I don’t even know what I’m specifically asking about. The dress? The wedding? Duncan? It feels like that question covers all of those topics at the same time.

I hate this feeling of indecisiveness. That’s not me. I’d like to say that one of my strong qualities is I know what I want and I go for it. I might not always get it, but I’m not afraid to shoot my shot. I want a pair of shoes? I buy them. I want to settle down and find a husband? I did it.

Just don’t ask me what I want for dinner. I’ll never know the answer to that question.

You’d think on the day of my wedding I shouldn’t be playing a should I-shouldn’t I game in my head. Yet, here we are, exiting the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor of the Omni Hotel with the wrong kind of butterflies in my stomach and more questions than I should have, hours before my wedding.

“Duncan?” I knock on the door, and at first don’t hear anything. Weird. I mean, I didn’t expect to hear a party, but I figured he and his groomsmen would be laughing or chatting, since they were all getting ready in here.

I tap the keycard to the reader and let myself in to a sound I wasn’t expecting.

A crack.

And moans.

And a woman’s voice.

What the hell ?

I don’t bother shutting the door quietly. I don’t bother announcing myself. I barely remember to hike up my dress so I can march the few steps down the hallway to be able to see into the room. I don’t realize that I pick up speed when I hear another crack, followed by what can only be described as a yelp, and words that I think I’m going to remember for the rest of my life.

“Does my good boy like that?”

It’s at that moment I turn the corner and see my fiancé on all fours on the king-sized bed, completely naked, ass in the air for all to see.

Well, except for the tie that was a part of his tuxedo hanging from his neck. And black socks.

And standing behind him is a redhead, wearing expertly placed leather and holding a flogger.

“What the fuck!” My outburst gets the attention of Duncan and Leather Lady. Their eyes are wide. Duncan’s face turns quickly to panic. Hers to confusion. “Since when do you like being spanked?”

That’s my first question? Really, Stella? I mean, it probably shouldn’t be the first, but it was definitely something at some point I’d want to know. Duncan is as vanilla in bed as they come. One time he said I sucked his dick too hard and told me I was hurting him.

I know that wasn’t true. I give phenomenal head. I have references.

He just has a pencil dick. And I’m not being petty, because in this moment my fiancé is getting his ass literally beat by a dominatrix. Dude is tiny. And I was willing to overlook a life full of unfulfilling sex and minimal orgasms for the happily ever after of marital bliss.

But now I want to rip that tiny fucking dick off with my bare hands and stuff it down his throat.

Then again, he might like that, considering the position he’s in.

“Stella!” Duncan jumps from the bed—and now it’s confirmed that the only thing he’s wearing is the tie around his neck and black socks. It’s quite the look. “It’s not what it looks like!”

I watch as Duncan crawls on the floor, looking for his boxers. “Really Duncan? That’s what you’re going with? Please then, explain to me what this actually is?”

“I mean…it’s…” He can’t even get out a damn sentence as he hurriedly steps into his boxers, only to almost fall back on the ground. If this was a sitcom I’d be laughing hysterically. Alas, it’s my actual life, and I am not amused. “It is. But it’s not. It’s…”

“How about I take a stab at what this is,” I say as I take another step into the room. His eyes grow wide as I approach the bed that he has just found his way back to. Probably because I look like I’m about to rip him a new one. Which he’d be correct about. “This is you getting spanked by a woman, who is not me, an hour before our wedding. Or is it flogged? I’m unfamiliar with the proper terminology.”

“What? An hour before your wedding? Dude…that’s fucking low.”

I nearly forgot that Leather Lady was still in the room—and apparently not in dominatrix mode anymore. I must say, now that I’m looking at her, she’s quite stunning. And apparently on my side.

Hoes over bros, especially when their pants are literally down.

“Yes. An hour before our wedding. Can you believe that?”

“I cannot.”

“Thank you! Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. Stella Banks.”

“Nadia,” she says, extending her hand that’s sporting blood red nails filed into near daggers. “So sorry you walked into see this. I promise you he didn’t tell me that he was getting married. I’ll do some stuff for a payday, but had I known, I would’ve said no. Or hit him harder.”

“Not your fault,” I say as we shake hands in the oddest exchange I think I’ve ever had in my life. “I must say, you are gorgeous. Your hair is beautiful.”

“Thanks, and your dress is…”

“Hideous. But it has pockets.”

“Nice. And I wasn’t going to say hid?—”

“Will you two stop!”

Oh, shit. Pencil Dick is still here. And he’s talking back.

“I’m sorry. Was I interrupting your spanking time? How dare I do such a thing.”

“Stella, don’t take that tone.”

“Oh, Duncan…” Nadia groans, shaking her head. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“Thank you, Nadia! Because you know what? I’m going to take whatever fucking tone I want to! I came up here to get reassurance. That last night was just unfortunate timing and a complete one-off. That you’re the man I want to marry. That I’m the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“You are.”

“Really? I am? Is that why you cleaned out our accounts? Lied to me about it? Is that why you’re here with Nadia getting your fucking ass beat before we walk down the aisle? No offense, Nadia.”

“None taken.”

“And speaking of Nadia! How do you have money to hire her? I hope to God you’re paying her, because every woman deserves to make her money however they so please. But we didn’t have money to pay for our flowers or DJ. Which means I assume you’re also broke if you resorted to stealing from our joint account. So please tell me Duncan, who's paying for her?”

“Oh, he didn’t pay me yet,” Nadia chimes in. “Asked if he could pay me after. I’m starting to wonder if he wasn’t going to conveniently not have any money…”

“Stella…Nadia…let me explain. This is all a big misunderstanding. ”

I look down to Duncan, who has never looked more pathetic in his worthless life as he cowers on the bed.

“Is it a misunderstanding that you’re a broke piece of shit? Or a liar? Because if it’s not any of those I don’t want to fucking hear it”

“Stella…we don’t need to use that language.”

Oh no he didn’t…

“The fuck I don’t!” I scream, ripping the engagement ring off my finger and throwing it at him. It bounces off his head and falls to the carpet. “I’ll use whatever the fuck language I want. Because I’m not yours anymore. You don’t get to tell me how to talk. Or how to act. Or remind me to keep the crazy away. It’s not your problem anymore because I’m fucking done.”

“Done?”

Is he serious? Why does he look like that’s the most shocking thing I could have said? For a smart man he really is an idiot.

“Yes, we’re done! Do you have selective hearing? We. Are. Done. Over. Broken up. Engagement off. You can go down and tell everyone that the wedding is off. Make up whatever excuse you want because I doubt you’ll tell the truth. But I couldn’t care less what you say. I’m out of here.”

I turn on my heel, somehow remembering to maneuver the hideous dress so I don’t trip over myself during my dramatic exit.

The dress…

I happen to stop in front of a mirror on the closet of the suite. My face is red. I’m breathing heavy. And I’m wearing a fucking ugly dress because I was trying to make him happy.

I did everything to make him happy…

“I gave you everything,” I say, though I don’t turn around to direct my words to him. He doesn’t get to see me cry. “I changed for you. Because I wanted the fairy tale. I thought you were going to give it to me. I became the woman you wanted me to be. I was ready to do that for you. Because I loved you. ”

“Babe…” I hear his footsteps coming closer but I hold up a hand behind me.

“Don’t.” I turn around, quickly willing the stray tears to go back in. “Don’t ‘babe’ me. This isn’t something you can smile and talk your way out of. I mean it, Duncan. We’re done.”

He doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t say another word as I turn and exit the hotel room.

I feel like a zombie as I walk toward the elevator. I don’t remember pushing the button. I don’t remember people coming on and off as I bypass the fifth floor and keep heading down.

All I remember is stepping out of the cart and walking through the lobby and outside, right into downtown Nashville.

And then I just run.