Meant to Marry Me
Mistake

Later that night, Bree sat on the edge of the bed in her hotel room, thinking about the excitement of the day, preparing to go to sleep. She and her bandmates had had a great time at dinner. St. Louis was known for its Italian food, so they'd gone to an area known as The Hill to eat the famous toasted ravioli at Mama's. It was so good, Bree had eaten until her stomach was about to burst. She'd probably had one glass too much of wine as well.

It wasn't particularly late. Some of the others had stayed behind to enjoy some of the clubs in the area, but she'd wanted to come back to the room. The others had tried to talk her into staying since they didn't have to be at the venue until the next evening. But there was a lot to see and do in St. Louis, and she hoped to be able to get up early to do some of those things with her any of her friends who weren't too tired or hungover. And Trent, once he arrived. She had no idea when she might be back to this historic city.

Once her stomach settled a bit, she put on her pajamas and brushed her teeth, thinking she'd call Trent before she went to sleep. A knock on her door had Bree jumping. She certainly was not expecting anyone to be at her. She glanced at the clock and saw it wasn't even ten o'clock yet, so maybe it wasn't as late as it seemed, but it was still odd.

Taking a deep breath, she looked through the peephole. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that it was Zach. What in the world was he doing there?

Bree took a step back from the barrier and debated what she should do. She was wearing pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt, nothing revealing. Still, she felt like he shouldn't see her in this, so she grabbed one of the white hotel robes and put it on, wondering what it was that had brought him here this time of night.

Unhooking the lock on the door, she pulled it open. "Hi." It came out more like a question than a statement. "What's up?"

"Hey. I'm sorry to bother you when you're clearly getting ready for bed, but I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute. If you're not comfortable with me coming in, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go down to the lobby or something, but since you're in your pajamas... maybe I should come back some other time." Clearly, whatever it was he was there to discuss had him uneasy. He was having trouble meeting her eyes and had his hand resting on the back of his neck as he spoke.

Seeing that something was bothering him, Bree softened. "No, it's okay," she said, gesturing for him to come in. Walking over to a seating area, she took a spot on the far end of the sofa, leaving the rest for him. "What's going on?" Zach walked in and looked around for a second before he came over to the couch and sat down far away from her. Bree wondered why he was so adamant about keeping his distance, but she was glad for it. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, or that she didn't trust herself, but she appreciated the fact he was keeping the lines clear.

"Nice room," Zach said, glancing around. The uncomfortableness radiated off of him. He still wouldn't look directly at her.

"Thanks. Is yours not as nice?"

He shrugged. "It is. Just... didn't know what else to say."

She smiled at him. It was clear he was nervous. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I, uh, got an offer from another band. And I'm thinking about taking it."

"I heard," she said, nodding her head. She grabbed one of the pillows off of the couch and hugged it in front of her, absently running her fingertip through the black fringe around the edge. "The Gunslingers?" "Yeah. Who told you?" He looked genuinely surprised that she was aware.

"Cat," she said with a shrug. She didn't want him to get mad at their bandmate for telling her, but she also didn't see the point in lying. "I really hope you don't, Zach."

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"I know. I really don't want to. I just don't know what else to do, Bree." He let out a sigh and ran his hands down his face. "This is a lot harder than I would've ever thought it would be."

She cleared her throat and thought about her response carefully before she allowed herself to speak. "I'm sorry, Zach. I didn't mean for you to ever be in this position. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but I also can't imagine this band without you in it. You're supposed to be here. You're one of us."

He scoffed. "I'm glad you feel that way, Bree, but my staying or leaving has nothing to do with the band itself. It has to do with you, and you know it. It's getting harder, not easier. I love that we've been able to joke around and tease each other recently. I have a lot of fun with you. And then I go home and think about how you're with someone else, and it's like a stab in the heart over and over again. I think, if I put some space between us, then maybe it'll be easier." "I'll ignore you, then," she offered, shrugging. "I'll pretend I hate you."

He chuckled, a rich rumble. "I don't think that'll work either, Bree."

"We can try. Shut up you idiot, I hate your guts! Get out of my room!" "Yeah... I don't buy it. You don't have a mean bone in your body." "That's not true. I can be mean."

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"No, I really don't think you can."

Bree took the pillow she'd been holding and swung it at him. He easily caught her arm and pulled her over, trying to take it from her. Both of them started laughing, and before she knew it, he was leaning over her, his hands wrapped tightly around both of her forearms.

It suddenly wasn't funny anymore.

Zach was impossibly attractive. His eyes were gorgeous; his lips were perfect, and she bit down on her bottom one as she thought about how soft and warm his mouth must be.

But she couldn't kiss him. She had a boyfriend. One she loved. She should've never put herself in this situation. No, she needed to move away.

Zach wasn't thinking as clearly as she was, and before she could even consider backing away, those lips were on hers, and they were every bit as soft and warm and delicious as she'd imagined.

Trent's face came immediately to mind, and Bree pushed back away from Zach, struggling against his strong grip.

As soon as he realized what he'd done, he let her go immediately. "Oh, God! Bree! I'm so sorry. I never meant to...." Without finishing the sentence, he got up and hurried out the door, leaving her sitting there on the couch with her mouth hanging open.

"What did we just do?"