Chapter Summary: Drake and Annie share a heartbreaking moment the day after her confession.
Author Note: I used TRR as inspiration, obviously, but this story strays pretty far from canon Drake x MC. Starts with some of the events from Book One, goes through what we know of Book Three, then beyond. Rated for language and (eventual) sexy times. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged when I release future chapters!
The burn of the whiskey as it slid down Drake’s throat greeted him like an old friend, relieving him of some of the stress he’d been feeling this entire trip. He rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck from side to side, attempting to work out the knots bunching his muscles. Standing alone in the wine cellar of the Nevrakis chateau, he finally felt like he could breathe again. Between Olivia’s constant, snide remarks and the wounded doe-eyes Annie shot at him every chance she got, Drake was ready to drink himself into oblivion and forget every last one of them.
He took another healthy swig of the amber liquid, enjoying the smoky notes of the alcohol as it stung his tongue. He’d seen the bottle of 40-year Glenfiddich sitting on a bar cart in the library yesterday while avoiding Annie after their snowy interaction, and decided tonight that he and that bottle would be good company. After spending the obligatory amount of time watching the nobles play nice up in the ballroom, Drake had decided to find his date for the night and make his way downstairs to the deserted cellar. Now, with just his one true love, whiskey –
Drake jolted at the words running through his head. One true love? He knew they joked about his love for the drink, tongue-in-cheek, and he always went along with their jibes. Obviously, there was more to Drake than drinking aged spirits, and those who he let get close enough to him were well aware of that. Yet the self-deprecating thoughts flashing in his mind gave him pause. Once, he could have gone along with the joke that whiskey was his “one true love.” Now? Well, things had changed. Drake started at the sound of footsteps – heeled footsteps – coming down the spiraled staircase.
Dainty feet clad in beaded pumps, followed by long, tanned legs buffeted by skirts of white satin, a plunging neckline framing perfectly round and pert breasts, and finally, Annie’s beautiful face came into Drake’s view. She was a vision tonight, and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. She had captured the attention of nearly every man in that ballroom tonight, Liam and Maxwell included. Drake felt a low burn in his chest at the thought of either of his friends caressing the bare skin of her back as they waltzed together, imagining Liam’s lips crashing against hers, or Maxwell bending his head to suck at the smooth skin of her neck. Drake knew these thoughts were dangerous, that he had no claim on Annie, despite her declarations from the day before, but damn it if he didn’t want to tear that dress from her body and show her just how badly he wanted her, wanted to be the kind of man who deserved a woman like her.
“I figured I’d find you down here,” she called, walking across the stone floor of the cellar toward him. Drake tried to keep his emotions from flashing across his face, hoping that the thundering of his heart at the sight of her couldn’t be heard in the cavernous room. In the blink of an eye, Annie stood before him, glittering gown and glistening skin, and Drake jammed his free hand in his pocket to keep himself from reaching out to graze his fingers down the smooth skin of her arm.
“I’m not sure why you’re looking, after yesterday,” Drake retorted. He lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips and drank, desperately hoping the alcohol would numb the ache for Annie seated deep within him. She met his gaze and paused a moment before responding.
“About yesterday, Drake. I wanted to apologize.”
Drake’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was the last thing Drake had expected when he saw Annie coming down the stairs. He was used to her pushing back, always trying to break down his walls, and it pissed him off as much as it endeared her to him. This was … unexpected. Drake silently waited for her to continue, unsure of where she was headed with this admission.
“I never should have pushed you into something you clearly don’t want,” Annie went on, her voice trembling slightly. Drake watched helplessly as her eyes filled with tears, the second time in two days he’d been the cause of her heartache.
“Hartford, I -”
“No, Drake, let me finish,” she said, holding up a hand to stop him. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t think of me as a friend, let alone anything more. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry I let my …” she trailed off, breathing in shakily. Drake wanted to reach out to her, to envelop her in his arms and never let her go, but all he could do was stare at her as she continued.
“ … I’m sorry I let my feelings for you get so out of control. I promise, from here on out, I’ll leave you alone.” She shrugged helplessly as a single tear escaped her eye and gave a short, mirthless chuckle. “It’s not like I’ve never had my heart broken. I’ll get over it, eventually. You’re one of the good ones, Drake Walker, and whoever finally manages to steal your heart is a very lucky woman.”
With her parting words, Annie smiled softly at him, turned around and headed back up the stairs. Everything in Drake shouted at him to go after her, to tell her that he already belonged to her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making sure she never knew another broken heart.
Instead, he stood there, silently clutching his glass of whiskey as the woman he loved walked away from him. This was exactly what he had set out to accomplish; now Annie could focus on Liam without any distractions, and finally be with a man who could give her the world. Drake knew that this was the way things had to be.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t destroyed in the process.