by Melissa Blue
Too late. If four days had passed that meant Sophie had no plans to come back either.
He'd won.
Victory tasted bitter as shit.
“I've been working and sleeping.”
Grady pushed away from the desk. “Good to hear the last part.”
The silence was weighted. Losing track of time was a red flag, but not sleeping was the bigger, brighter one. He usually stayed on top of everything. He didn't want to go for that dark ride again so soon. The occasional mood swings he could take. Taking the right pills, he could do. Even talking to a nosy ass therapist was acceptable. Not being able to trust his judgment, his brain...
He exhaled and cursed. “It's not an episode.”
Grady's stare intensified. “I could believe that if you didn't look like shit. What's going on?”
He probably looked like shit warmed over. Twice. “Feed me. I might be able to come up with...something assholish to say.”
His brother laughed. “You have your humor. I'm going to take that as a good sign and we can go from there.”
His bones creaked when he rose from the chair. Wade couldn't even say how long this round of research had taken him. Well, long enough he needed to piss before he ate.
No surprise he had a shadow the whole time. If exhaustion didn't numb half his brain cells, he might have asked if Grady wanted to hold his dick too while he peed, but Wade knew he wouldn't get breathing room until Grady was reassured. Days like this it was easy to forget who was the oldest.
In the cafeteria they both settled on sub sandwiches and chips. The rounded tables lined up in rows that stretched from one end to the next. Nothing exciting about the look of the place, but the food was decent. They ate for a while. Grady at least waited until half the sandwiches were gone.
“So what happened?”
After getting Sophie's “allons-y” text, Wade had spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the woman. He'd like to say he'd only thought of ways to piss her off, but his mind kept straying to her mouth, her legs, and what they'd feel like wrapped around him. Eventually his mind could focus on her personality, and that hadn't been any better for his concentration. Sophie intrigued him, and that hadn't set well with him. He acted accordingly, and he hated himself a little for it.
“What happened is the Grinch's heart grew two sizes that day.”
His brother frowned. Wade explained in terms Oliver would approve of. “I was a dick. I regret it.”
Grady chewed on that confession for a moment and offered, “Have you tried apologizing?”
He scrubbed a hand down his beard. “I would if I'd seen her.”
“Her?” Grady smiled. “Sophie. Who is she?”
A woman he couldn't compartmentalize. He hated her for being smart, quick and witty. Hated her more for being able to put his back up with a smoothly delivered line. Wade wanted her, to just once, lean into him and let him lick her.
“She,” he emphasized, not wanting to say her name, “was a pain in my ass.”
His brother pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and the gesture barely hid the smile. “And you feel bad about removing her...from your ass?”
Is this what it was like to talk to me? Probably. Annoyed, Wade threw a chip across the table. The food bounced off his brother's shirt.
Grady spread his hands. “I just want to make sure I'm understanding correctly.”
Yup. Annoyed as hell. “You understand, you jackass.”
“So you want to apologize.” His brother paused then spaced out his words. “Is that all?”
Wade barely allowed himself to admit his attraction to Sophie and still his brother sussed the emotions out.
He had it bad for her then. “Having a girlfriend hasn't made you anymore direct. Say it with me, Grady...The word starts with an 'F' in case you need a clue.”
Grady blanked his face of any emotion. “Does your johnson tingle when you think about her?”
He'd asked for that and barely managed to hold back the laugh. “I want to apologize. I don't think she'll answer any of my phone calls and saying 'I'm sorry' in a text is a cop out.”
His brother crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, likely to let the weight of the words settle on the air. Three months ago, Wade would have accepted the remorse, lingered over it for a few days then moved on. He'd been right about Sophie and that knowledge would have been enough to assuage any leftover guilt.
Time was a funny thing. Wade concentrated on his sandwich as co-workers passed by with food. And, yeah, while his brother frowned at him.
“Love can change you, Wade. And I know how you felt about Ashley.” His brother paused. “I'm sorry.”
His muscles tensed at the apology. This conversation was touchy-feely enough without pointing out the elephant. For once in his life, he decided to act dumb. “For what?”
Grady sighed, disappointment tugging at the frown lines on his face. “Call Sophie and leave a message. Put the ball in her court.”
He pushed the plate away. “I'll do that as soon as I find my phone.”
“I'll help after we're done here.” From the way his brother's jaw clenched, the offer wasn't out of the kindness of Grady's heart.
Some people thought his brother was a pushover, Wade knew better. His brother could be as stubborn, if not more so when he wanted. Grady wouldn't leave until he had a direct way to contact Wade. It was one of their rules. Wade shrugged because he'd been the one to make them.
Since Grady was staying for a little while, and there was a bet going...Wade asked, “How is Eva?”
His brother frowned at the question and likely the concern. “She's recovering, but the food poisoning took a lot out of her. She's been sleeping a lot.”
Still clueless. Wade smiled. “Good to hear she's doing a little better.”
Grady narrowed his eyes. “What?”
Dense. The man was dense. “Nothing. Let's find my phone and you can go home and take care of Eva.”
Grady chuckled, looking amused. “Eva sent me here because she could tell I was worried. Don't be so hard on her.”
He wasn't, much...anymore. Wade still worried her problems with panic attacks, depression, family drama could—there were some things that couldn't be cured or loved away.
“I'm not,” Wade said. “She's strong and good for you.”
He hoped. He prayed. He didn't want his brother's life to be about trying to fix the people around him. Thankfully, so far it hadn't been since Eva had entered their lives.
“Huh.” Grady tilted his head as though seeing him for the first time. “You have changed.”
Wade shifted under the intense stare. “Don't make me regret being nice. You know how it gives me hemorrhoids.”
“Such an asshole.”
His brother threw an arm over his shoulder and grinned.
Grady asked, “Are you ready for the award ceremony? You ordered your tux, right?”
“Shit. That's in two days. I'll deal with it.”
Grady didn't reply. Didn't have to. None of them would miss Oliver's event. So they walked back to his office in silence, with Grady's arm around him protectively. The gesture felt good, but there was still a gnawing ache of guilt in Wade's stomach.
He'd call Sophie and the next move would be up to her from there. That was new. He wasn't sure how he felt about it yet.
CHAPTER
(2φ-1)2
“Tell me again what Wade looks like,” Cal demanded.
She shoved a glass of champagne into his hand and ignored the inquiry. For five days he'd peppered her with questions about The Asshole—Sophie refused to think his name. She'd hoped dragging her friend out to an award event for a client could distract him. Now she hoped liquor would do the job.
“Light brown hair, right?”
Sophie made eye contact with a server a few feet away and grabbed two glasses off the tray. The entire theater was filled with...Well...Most of the people there were illustrators, writers or publ
ishers of comic books. The rest were agents, publicists and fans of graphic novels. She'd come to support her client—a writer, and to avoid hashing over The Asshole.
“Walks in almost a belligerent way?”
Her hand gripped the glasses. “What?”
She hadn't told Cal that. Sophie had listed all the reasons why Wade should rot in hell. And, yes, he was a handsome bastard. The Asshole had no heart. And, yes, in other circumstances she'd ride him like a bronco. Stop asking. It didn't matter. The Asshole would be the first client in a long time she fired with prejudice...as soon as she got around to it.
Never had she said how Wade walked. Even for Sophie, admitting she'd watched the way he moved with enough intent she could describe his stride...That could mean her feelings toward the man might be more than simple lust.
Lust she could curtail if she didn't go near him again.
Her skin prickled, and the backless black dress became the biggest mistake of her life.
But she had to be sure. “What color are his eyes?”
“Blue. Really, really blue.”
She sighed, defeat bitter on her tongue and forced her gaze to meet her friend's. “You need to get me out of here. He called me, left a message, wanting to talk and if I talk to him—”
Sophie stopped the waterfall of words.
Fear had stopped ruling her six years ago. She'd taken a glimpse of herself in the mirror after Angelo told everyone she enjoyed “adventurous” sex. A lover—not a fling, but someone she loved with her everything had insinuated what she wanted in bed as though the information should be fodder or, hell, a way to sell concert tickets. He'd taken everything she used to be and shattered that woman. She'd looked into a mirror, into that woman's eyes and told her Angelo had actually done her a favor.
People could hide behind their secrets. They could hide behind their public facade. With almost every detail out there for a search engine to dig up, what did she have to lose by telling a client exactly what she thought of their public behavior? Who better than to tell a client dragging their daughter's mother through the mud would make them look petty? No one could use her bad choices as evidence because she did first.
With Wade, she'd kept her mouth shut about her past. The decision had been unconscious. Hindsight and all that, Sophie could say she didn't want him to see her as a groupie, heartbroken, a slut or a number of things the tabloids had accused her of being.
Hadn't mattered. He'd found out, and Wade had stripped her down with words. He could do it again, because she'd opened herself for a moment—allowed herself to be amused by his bluntness. Couldn't take that action back now.
If she were honest, she couldn't find her usual resolve with him anyway. The only solution was to run as hard and fast as she could.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, she glanced at the drinks. She finished one then the other. “Where is he?”
“Buffet table.” Cal frowned, worry creasing his brows.
“Exits?”
“I'm not sneaking you out of here. You made me put on a tux.”
She almost bared her teeth at him. “Friend in crisis.”
“I kind of want to meet him.”
“You so much as move...”
Cal's smile was slow in coming as he lifted the glass to his lips. “I don't have to, and from his expression, I think he's found something better to eat.”
Her stomach flipped in anticipation instead of revulsion. The tables were high and made of sturdy wood. After everyone had left he could plop her on one of them and get his fill.
Don't think like that.
He's probably a virgin.
And if someone actually did take pity, his gruff anti-social attitude ensured he'd never learned to satisfy a woman. No woman would stick around long enough.
His belligerent stride has nothing to do with the fact he probably has a big dick and knows how to use it.
Anticipation formed into stupid little fluttery butterflies. “How do I look?”
Cal winced. Hell. His reaction meant her every thought showed on her face. Sophie reassured herself that Cal had known her for umpteen years, and The Asshole didn't. The Asshole wouldn't see through her.
Her skin flushed, tightened right on the bone and muscle. Her shoulders climbed, braced for the sound of his voice to take her name and seduce the syllables. A large palm grazed between her shoulder blades and slid down to the small of her back. Unprepared for the spark flaming her skin, she gasped.
He bent to her ear and whispered, “What are you doing here?”
The threat was laced in the quietly spoken question. Sophie wished she could say she shivered for any other reason than the fact his lips brushed her ear lobe. “The world doesn't revolve around you, as I'm sure you know.”
“Is that why you didn't call me back?”
She didn't call him because the sound of his voice made her nipples tingle. Like they were doing now. She regretted wearing the backless gown more and more since she'd gone without a bra. If she didn't have an aversion to making a scene in public, she'd ram her elbow into his stomach just so she could breathe and not get hit with his scent every inhalation. She needed to get away from him.
“Call you so you can tell me I'm broken again?” She hadn't kept her voice down and Cal's brows furrowed again.
She'd told him the highlights of the argument. The details still burned too much to share. Torn between taking their disagreement somewhere more private and knowing that was the stupidest idea ever, Sophie faced Wade.
Nope. That was stupid. Before she could only sense the bulk of him, his heat as he pressed into her side. Now she knew Wade in a tux was a dangerous fucking thing. She wanted the lackadaisical attire and grooming. Really, really needed to look at him and think he'd yet to evolve to full sentences. His knowing smirk told her she still hadn't put on her poker face. They both knew she found this version of him utterly fuckable.
God, she hated him.
“As I knew,” she said, “you clean up nice.”
His stare slid down her frame. He paused on her nipples and then smiled. “My friend required it.”
Across the small table Cal snorted. Much to her relief, Wade pulled a hand through his hair, ruffling the strands into a disarray. Still sexy, the bastard, but at least he wasn't near perfect male in a suit.
The relief lasted until he grasped her chin and brought his face toward hers. Her heart skipped. He was going to kiss her. Excitement was the wrong reaction to have. He could strip her down to her soul with words. Find her soft spots and sucker punch them. Wade could do more damage than Angelo.
But still she inhaled his scent and waited for his mouth to slam against hers.
“I apologize,” he said, his tone gentle. “I was a shit to you.”
She jerked her head back, surprised. “What?”
He caressed the tip of her chin, his expression open. His sincerity poured into her and seemed to soothe away all the tension and doubts that he'd use his words as a weapon to smash her to bits.
“I could have gotten my point across in a much...kinder way. I chose not to and for that I'm sorry, Sophie.”
Sophie almost lifted her hand to check his forehead for a fever or lumps, any sign of a concussion and illness. Who the fuck was this gentle man with kind, shadowed eyes?
He dropped his hand and straightened. “That's why I wanted you to call me.”
“Oh.” That's the best she could come up with.
He nodded as though that was the end of that. “But why are you here?”
“A client,” is all she managed to say still shocked at the heartfelt words.
“Ah. Okay.” He glanced at Cal and narrowed his eyes. “You with her?”
“I'm her plus one.”
At that, Wade grunted, turning his glare to her. Held it, held it, smoldered like a pro then stalked away without bothering to look back.
Why was he pissed? After apologizing? No. Why did he come over to apologize, only to walk back off in a hu
ff?
“I see your problem,” Cal muttered before finishing his champagne.
The ghost of Wade's fingertips continued to warm her skin. She turned away from the sight of him and spread her hands on the table. “I don't have a problem. I'm going to fire him as a client.”
“It's been five days. Why haven't you already?”
It was too much like giving up, giving in. When the truth was Sophie would rather walk away than tempt herself. It was so easy to forget Wade's client status when they locked horns.
He'd gripped her chin in a possessive manner, stood a breath away from kissing her and she hadn't uttered a word of complaint. A thought couldn't edge its way in, much less could she think I shouldn't let him kiss me. Where was the mental list of why he was worse than Angelo? What was the point of her principles, learning the hard way if she couldn't think when he touched her?
All for a man who didn't even wait around to see if she'd accept his apology. Who'd give her a hard stare because she'd come to an award ceremony with a date. His touch may have kept her skin buzzing but there was nothing between them. Never would be.
Cal laughed. “A serious problem.”
He was right and she hated the truth of his simple statement, because if Wade touched her like that again, she'd let him kiss her. “Shut up.”
He just laughed harder.
*****
“Where'd you disappear to?” Porter asked before Wade could get comfortable in his seat.
Unlike the rest of the Goon Squad, Porter had decided to wear a tuxedo shirt in support of Oliver. They were the only two to find the throwback amusing.
Wade glanced down the row. Victor had his arms crossed and looked half asleep with his head tilted up. His crew cut was fresh enough Wade could make out the razor bumps at the nape. His tanned skin even had a red tinge of irritation. Grady leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, while he played on his phone. His brother looked at home in a tux. Oliver had gone ahead to sit in the designated nominee section.
Wade smirked. As a group of men, at an award ceremony, they appeared so benign. Could have been worse though. Eva and Ashley could have skipped their girl’s night out and that would have been mayhem. Fun, but mayhem.
