The Something about Her: Opposites Attract book four

by Higginson, Rachel

  Twenty minutes later, I kind of wished I could die. Vann had gotten to class before us. Actually, everyone had gotten to class before us since we’d chatted for so long in the locker room. The only two bikes left were the ones in the front row. Apparently, no one in this class was an overachiever.

  Molly had gripped my bicep with two hands when we’d stepped inside the cycle studio. “Don’t make me do it,” she’d pleaded, her voice high-pitched and hysterical.

  Bailing totally crossed my mind and I was tempted to give in to that panicked urge. This was dumb. I wasn’t here to impress Vann. I just wanted to burn off some of the alcohol and wedding cake from last weekend. And I thought it would be cool to hang with Molly a few mornings a week.

  I didn’t sign up for front row in an exercise class I’d never been to before.

  Not to mention Vann would be directly behind me—watching me inevitably fail at basically spinning my feet on spikey pedals. It was humiliation I did not welcome. Nor did I need. Nor did I have to go through with.

  But just when I’d been ready to grab Molly’s quivering hand and flee, Vann had turned around and raised a single, challenging eyebrow.

  It was like he could sense my flight reaction kicking in. He didn’t think I’d go through with this. He didn’t think I was serious about cycling. He probably thought I was here to see him.

  I would show him.

  Only now that we were well into the class, I realized it wasn’t slipping off the pedals into a puddle of my own sweat and tears that I had to worry about. It was the super slimming workout tights I’d chosen to wear this morning and my ultra-formfitting halter top.

  And, because I hated underwear lines, I wasn’t wearing any. My butt crack was potentially the sweatiest it had ever been, and Vann was here to freaking witness it. And not just see it but have a front row ticket to the sweaty ass show. Literally.

  I had been trying to get Molly’s attention for the better part of the last ten minutes, but she had this technique where she stared at the ground the whole time. Probably so she didn’t fall off the bike, but still. I needed her to wake up and pay attention to me.

  Also, there was a good possibility she’d actually fallen asleep and was somehow managing to pedal unconsciously.

  Not a bad plan, Molly Maverick. Not a bad plan at all.

  Another side note—this class was complete and utter hell. This was how I imagined boot camp. Forty-five minutes of a straight incline up the world’s steepest mountain. Maybe minus the techno version of Taylor Swift in the background.

  And I worked out. I wasn’t like Molly who could consume seventy-five percent of the planet’s fast food in one day and wake up the next morning somehow thinner than the day before. I was starting to suspect she had a pet tapeworm.

  She complained about her lack of curves and Gumby-like body, but she had no idea how good she had it.

  I couldn’t eat half of what she did and even hope to be marginally thin. My body type was brought to you by weekend drinking, six days a week workout and dinners consisting of cocktail cherries and bleu cheese stuffed olives.

  To be fair though, most of my dinners happened at two in the morning, after I’d been cooking all night, so I was never in the mood to cook for myself. Especially when there was only me.

  I usually just grabbed what was available. Which meant cocktail accoutrements. And sometimes good cheese I nicked from the restaurant kitchen.

  The instructor looked at me and smiled sadistically—er, at least that was how it appeared from my angle. Like he was possessed with a workout demon intent on enslaving the entire world with cycling. “All right,” he shouted into his headset, “who’s ready to kick it up a notch?”

  I shook my head rapidly. Not me. I was so not ready to kick it up a notch. No notches should be kicked.

  Molly groaned next to me. I turned to see if she was okay and she mouthed, “I hate you.” Well, okay then.

  It was easy to stop obsessing over Vann after that, since I was convinced I was about to pedal my legs right off my body.

  By the end of the class, I was gasping for breath and sweating every last drop of liquid in my body. I stumbled off my stationary bike and grabbed for my towel with shaky hands to wipe it down. I wasn’t always diligent about this step of community workout protocol, but the amount of sweat I’d drenched this bike seat in was unnatural. I’d straight up desecrated the poor thing.

  “Oh, my god,” Molly groaned. “That was hell.”

  “That was pure insanity,” I huffed. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  Her laser glare was answer enough. “Are you serious?”

  I managed a weak smile. “You said it was hard. You didn’t say I wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week after.”

  She threw her hand in the air. “That’s exactly what I said! Those were my exact words!” She turned to the person standing behind me. “Can you believe this, Vann?”

  My throat dried out and it had nothing to do with the workout. “My memory is a little fuzzy about what you said.”

  “At least she didn’t run out of here to puke,” he said, standing closer than I thought he would have at this point in our estranged relationship.

  “Who did that?” I had to ask.

  “Vera,” Molly said seriously. “She claimed it had something to do with the pregnancy, but it sounds like an excuse to me.”

  “Obviously.” I snapped my fingers. “Maybe I should get knocked up too. That would get me out of a couple of jams.”

  Molly laughed, but Vann stilled beside me. I was afraid to look at him, realizing what my comment must have sounded like to him after our one-night stand.

  “I think there’s a few steps you have to take first,” Molly suggested. “Like finding a guy willing to knock you up. And I don’t think you’re going to have any luck in your current pool of losers.”

  The sound that came out of my mouth was supposed to be a laugh, but it was more like the sputtering sound of mortification. “You never know…”

  She gave me a knowing look, but she had no idea the hornet’s nest she was poking right now.

  Vann leaned in and nudged me with his elbow. “They’re all losers then?”

  Was he fishing for a compliment? Or just trying to make me melt into a blushing puddle of embarrassment. Seriously, what was I supposed to say to that. “No one interested in being my baby daddy at least.”

  “Have you asked any of them?”

  “What?”

  His glare cut through me, tearing my insides to shreds. “Have you asked any of them? Maybe they aren’t all the losers you think they are.”

  I used the towel to pat my sweaty face and stall for time. “I guess that’s true. Some have been more memorable than others.”

  He flinched, catching the punch I’d subtly delivered him. “And some are just forgettable?”

  “Completely.”

  Molly blinked at us. “You guys want to fess up to something?”

  I smiled brightly and took a step back from Vann, lest I do something crazy like actually punch him—or climb him like a spider monkey and shut him up the old-fashioned way. “What? No. I think this is a classic case of boy power.” I held up my fist. “You know, those poor men have to stick together.”

  “I’m going to leave now,” Vann announced. “Have a good day, Molly.”

  He stalked off, his gray t-shirt drenched in sweat, clinging to all those cut muscles on his biceps and back. My eyes drifted to his ass—I mean, staring there was inevitable—and then to his tight calves. God, had a man’s calves ever looked so delicious before?

  “You’re staring at him,” Molly pointed out.

  “He didn’t say goodbye to me.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Unbelievable! You’re into him.”

  Officially grabbing my attention again, I swung around to glare at her, trying to play innocent. “Hardly.”

  She rolled her eyes and headed for the locker room. “Yeah, that looked like you hardly noticed
him. You’re drooling by the way.”

  I touched the towel to the corner of my mouth on instinct. “I am not.”

  She turned, grinning over her shoulder. “You didn’t have to play dumb this morning. You can tell me if you like Vann.”

  “Ugh.” I winced, dreading the upcoming conversation. “It’s complicated.”

  “Men are always complicated,” she agreed. “They like to blame us for the games and being high maintenance. But they’re the real trouble.”

  It felt good to hear her say that. And it prompted me to spit out the truth. “We slept together after the rehearsal dinner.”

  She dropped her towel and tripped over her feet. After she’d managed to collect herself and stand upright again, she gaped at me. “You did what?”

  I dropped my face into my hands. “We slept together. And it wasn’t… my finest moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’d had a lot to drink at dinner. And that whole weekend. And there are some fuzzy spots that I might not totally, completely, wholly… remember.”

  She dragged me into the locker room and plopped me down on a bench. “Wait a minute, you’re telling me you slept with Vann, but don’t remember sleeping with him?”

  “I remember parts of it,” I clarified. “And the parts I remember are good parts.” Staring at my hands, I felt myself blush. I must have been the color of a ripe tomato. “Really good parts.”

  “Wait, does he know you don’t remember?”

  I nodded, letting the full weight of her judgment descend. “I woke up in the middle of the night and realized what I’d done. So I escaped before he woke up.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d be so pissed. I thought, I don’t know, I didn’t take it very seriously I guess. I thought we were just having fun. But he’s all like, I don’t even know how to have fun. And then I said some stupid things at the wedding. And the whole weekend is a blur of messing up! Molly, fix it for me please.”

  She immediately pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “Okay. I will. How do you want me to fix it? Do you want things better with Vann because you’re second guessing brushing him off? Or because you don’t want bad blood between you, but you want to move on?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that either. Can you also decide that for me too?”

  She laughed at me. Seriously, laughed at me. “You must really like him.”

  Her words seemed to grab whatever air was in the room and suck it straight from my lungs. “What?”

  “You’re so worried about him. I’ve never seen you like this with a guy before. Usually you’re happy to use and lose them.”

  If by use, she meant get them to buy me dinner. And by lose, she meant fake a text before the check came, then she’d hit the nail on the head. “That’s true, but only because they’re usually Tinder randoms that aren’t exactly the bring home to mom kind of gentlemen. Vann is just… more complicated than my usual blind date.”

  “By complicated, do you mean he has his life together?”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  She released me and stood up. “What if you tried to be friends with him first? I know this might be a foreign concept, and please take no disrespect from this, you know I love you and everything about you. But… what if you, oh, I don’t know, tried dating without sleeping with him? See what happens then?”

  I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around my chilling torso. Dang, my body was freezing now that it was starting to cool down. “Sounds risky.”

  Her smile softened. “He’s not going to leave you just because he gets to know you.”

  I resented her words. Not because she had meant them maliciously, but because she knew me and had the right to call me out on my bullshit. Only there was more to my story than just the fear of being known by someone who could potentially hurt me. I mean, there was definitely that. But there was also more. “You don’t know that,” I said instead, it was easier than the truth. “Isn’t that why couples breakup? They get to know each other and decide they don’t like what they know?”

  “It didn’t happen with Ezra and me.”

  “You guys are different though.” She gave me an annoyed look. “Besides, I don’t want my only options to be to get hurt badly or get married. Is there a third option?”

  Now her smile turned into a frown. “I think you’re doing the third option.”

  I threw my hands in the air because the third option wasn’t working either. “See? This is why I’m keeping my distance from now on. I need space from Vann so all of these volatile emotions and freak outs can end. We spent too much time together over the weekend and we were the only single people in the bridal party. Basically, it was bound to happen. I’m just glad it’s out of my system now.”

  “So, you’re choosing the moving on option?” But she didn’t sound like she believed me.

  “It’s better for everyone this way.”

  “Whatever you say.” She walked over to her locker and opened it. “You want to meet here on Thursday for another class? Or are you over getting your butt kicked?”

  “Are you seriously willing to do this with me?”

  “I hate it,” she admitted. “But I do want to look amazing in my wedding dress. I need a partner though. One that sticks this out longer than the three guest passes I have. So, you need to join the gym and help me.”

  “Is Vann going to be here every time.”

  She shrugged and it was a little too casual for my Spidey senses not to kick in. “Not every time. But you’re moving on so what does it matter?”

  She had a point. And it seemed like he was moving on too. What did I have to lose? I could join this gym and have a workout partner that I loved. Win-win.

  I’d have to avoid Vann in the process. I could do that. Easy. Like taking over Bianca had been easy. Or like climbing Everest in a bikini would be easy.

  Sixteen

  By the end of the week, I was frazzled as hell.

  Bianca had not been going smoothly. There were moments of pure genius with my staff. But the majority of my days and evenings were struggling through tough conversations and trying to steer them in the right direction.

  The food was, frankly, not up to par. The majority of it was mediocre at best. And as I tried to gently remind people what I was looking for in each dish, meals were taking longer and longer to get out to diners.

  Plus, service was slow anyway. Which should have meant we had plenty of time to perfect each plate. But the opposite was true. The more free time we had, the more difficult getting them to focus became.

  I was anxious to implement my ideas and switch Bianca’s focus, but I also needed a killer marketing plan to coincide with the changes. Which meant getting Molly on board. Which meant, coming clean to Ezra about my vision shift.

  I had been telling the truth when I told Blaze I wasn’t scared of Ezra. He didn’t intimidate me like he did most of the people that worked under the umbrella of EFB Enterprises. But he did have the power to say no.

  What I really wanted, was a good week of service and profit under my belt before I explained all the reasons he needed to change everything. But it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon.

  I needed to hard sell this thing. And fast. Before the major change that happened was a closed sign in the front window.

  I still had no idea why he thought I could be the one to save this place. Surely, he knew more talented and experienced chefs… Surely, there had been more prominent people interested in the position.

  Bottom line, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

  He walked into the kitchen looking all kinds of business. I smoothed my hair back in the wild messy bun that seemed like the best option this morning but I was now regretting, and adjusted the bandana I’d tied around the front.

  “Hey, big brother,” I said to him, nerves already fluttering in my stomach.

 
His hard gaze relaxed some and he smiled at me. “How’s it going?”

  I swallowed the oversized lump of fear in my throat and shrugged. “I’m still alive.”

  “Have I told you lately that I’m beyond grateful for you?”

  “Once or twice.” His words soothed some of the pain in my chest. “You know I’d do literally anything for you right? Like actually anything. A kidney. Half my liver. Seriously, running this restaurant for you is easy-peasy.”

  His smile wobbled. “That’s good news, because I have another favor to ask of you.”

  My eyes narrowed on instinct. This didn’t sound promising. And now he was fidgeting! Ezra never fidgeted. Like ever. He was always one hundred percent comfortable with who he was and what he wanted. “I’m nervous,” I admitted—because he looked nervous.

  “Molly wants to host a brunch. At our place.”

  “Okay…”

  “This Sunday.”

  “Okay…”

  “She’d like you to come.”

  “That sounds fun. I’d love to come.”

  His hand swiped over his mouth, the telltale gesture that he was second-guessing himself. “The thing is, she’s invited a few other people.”

  “Vera and Killian?”

  “They’re on their honeymoon.”

  “Oh, right. So, Wyatt and Kaya?”

  He nodded. “And Vann Delane.”

  Ezra’s anxiety made sense now. “Ah.”

  “She told me not to make it a big deal. But she wanted you to have all the facts.” His hands dropped to his hips and he suddenly looked like our dad. “Is there something I need to know about you and Vann Delane?”

  Oh lord, not this. I blinked at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

  “Why did Molly want me to warn you about Vann Delane coming over?”

  There were about three hundred things I’d rather do than talk to my brother about my effed up dating life. One was getting a Brazilian. Another was getting audited by an anal IRS agent. “Who knows. Molly gets stressed about weird stuff all the time.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And stop calling him Vann Delane. You know him by now. Surely you’re on a first name basis.”