Consensual

by Livia Jamerlan

  After I left his apartment, I’d stopped to do a quick clean at Sara’s house since I was already in the building. I expected the cleaning to clear my mind or help decipher my feelings. No such luck. What happened with Peyton at the charity gala was an accident. It had to be. The sexual charge between us was obvious, but there was no way we could keep this up. My career as a lawyer depended on it. It had to be this way.

  But God … I couldn’t stop wanting him, craving what he had done to me in the limo or in the few short minutes we’d spent together on the conference table. “Ugh!” I lifted my head before slamming it back down on the pillow. I pulled the duvet over my head, blocking out the sunlight and the outside world.

  “Brae?” Gus tapped softly on my bedroom door.

  I heard the door creak open. Lying on my side, I lifted the duvet and peeked out with one eye. When Gus smiled, I yanked the covers shut again.

  “Baby Brae, I know you’re up. I heard you moaning.” He poked my ribs before lying down next to me.

  Pushing the covers off my face, I looked directly into his dark green eyes. “I was not moaning.” I pulled the covers over my head again.

  “Huffing and puffing?” He curled up closer to me.

  “More like sulking,” I finally admitted.

  “What’s the matter? Why are you sulking? It’s Saturday and it’s supposed to be a fabulous day.” I felt him rise from the bed, and then he opened the curtains. The bright sun illuminated my room so much I had to squint my eyes.

  “What do you want, Gus? It’s too early for this much sun.” I pulled the pillow out from under me and covered my head.

  “Well, since Kennedy has a double shift this weekend, I came to steal you away. And it’s not early; it’s almost eleven. I made you breakfast, so get your little butt out of bed and meet me in the kitchen.”

  I heard his footsteps as he walked out of the bedroom. When he was halfway down the hall he shouted, “Braelynn Scott Wolf! Get your sulking ass out of bed. Now!”

  “Fine!”

  Kicking my way out of bed, I got up and headed for the bathroom. After washing my face, I joined Gus in the kitchen. Giving him an extra key when we first moved in seemed like the right idea at the time. Right now … not so much.

  “I think I need my spare key back,” I said as I reached into the cupboard for my coffee mug.

  He brought the coffee pot over to me and filled my cup. “Nope, not happening. You’re in a funk.” He shook his head from side to side.

  I pulled the barstool away from the breakfast bar and sat. “Why are you so chipper this morning? Get laid last night?” I raised my eyebrows as the hot coffee burned the tip of my tongue.

  A beaming smile appeared on his face. “As a matter of fact, I did. Clearly you haven’t scratched that itch, huh? Want to talk about it?” His face turned serious before he turned back to the stove to finish breakfast.

  “No, wiseass. I don’t want to talk about my lack of a sex life as you gloat about yours. I just had a rough first week.”

  I didn’t want to talk about the fact that my itch had been scratched but not nearly enough, or about Haas’s room of tricks. I still hadn’t processed this stuff in my own head. Though his room enticed me and I wanted nothing more than for him to take full advantage of my body, it was the wrong thing to do. Explaining it to Gus would only bring another round of lectures and I had lectured myself enough last night.

  Gus looked over his shoulder as he spoke. “You’re studying to be a lawyer. It’s always going to be a rough week.” He turned the stove off and brought the chocolate chip pancakes and bacon over to the counter.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes at his comment, then took a strip of crispy bacon and bit into it like it was a potato chip.

  “Does this have anything to do with Poochie coming by to visit?”

  I kicked the other barstool out so he could sit. “Poochie did some investigating on the case I’m working on. The intern who created the cheat sheet for the file left it a complete mess, so I called Poochie and he found me additional intel. The defendant had previous rape charges against him that were mysteriously dropped. Poochie gave me the victims’ info when he came by, and I met with one of them yesterday. I think I came on too strong and she got spooked.” I stuffed my mouth with warm pancakes.

  “Brae …” Gus’s voice was concerned. He attempted to hide it, but I still heard it loud and clear.

  “I know, but I need to find something on him, and it seems as though rape likes to follow me around.”

  Gus looked down at his food and then back at me, as if he wanted to say something but decided not to. He laid his arm on my shoulder before going back to eating his breakfast.

  “So are you going to tell me what you need from me, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?” I asked, changing the serious tone of our conversation to a lighter one.

  “What do you mean?”

  I rested my arms at my hips. “You made me chocolate chip pancakes with bacon on a Saturday morning, and you never get up on Saturday until after one. So spill it, lover boy. What gives?”

  Sighing, he pushed his almost empty plate away. “Well …” He took a sip of his coffee. He was buying time before he confessed his ulterior motive. “There is this party tonight at Shakes. A couple of people from work will be there, and Jon is hosting the event, so …”

  “You need me to be your girl?” I questioned. “And who is Jon?” I smiled at him before poking him in the ribs.

  “Jon is a friend,” Gus said in a shy voice. My loud, over-the-top, fabulous best friend is being shy?

  “Oh … my … god,” I said in my best Valley girl voice. “Is Jon the one from last night?”

  Picking his plate up from the counter, Gus walked it to the sink. I jumped up right behind him and rushed to his side. “Holy shit. Holy freaking shit. You like him!”

  “Do not.” Gus grabbed my plate, his olive skin brightening with a hint of pink.

  “Yeah, you do, Gussy.” I leaned against the stove and watched as he nervously cleaned the kitchen.

  “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it. Will you come with me or not?” He began putting the flour and sugar away.

  Watching him slam the cabinet doors was too much. I bit down on my lip to contain my laughter. Gus was never one to fall over a guy. Usually he just had casual sex—nothing more than a couple late-night booty calls. This is big. Not wanting to talk about Jon only confirmed that Gus really liked him. That, and the fact he wanted to see him two nights in a row.

  Kicking off the stove, I followed Gus around the kitchen like a lost puppy. “Fuck yeah, I’ll go. Can I meet him? Is he dreamy?” I tried to imagine what Gus’s type would be.

  “Seriously? You’ve been hanging out with Kennedy too long. No more questions. It’s just a night out at Shakes.” He stowed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

  Stopping abruptly, I looked at him, then back to my room. “Did you say Shakes?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “As in the nightclub in Lower Manhattan?”

  Gus nodded and within seconds I was running back to my bedroom. His footfalls pounded behind me, but I ignored him. I had seen that name on one of the papers Poochie gave me. I knelt on the ground, pulled the folder from my tote, and began flipping through all the information. It was in there somewhere; I’d seen it.

  “Brae?” Gus sat next to me, obviously puzzled by my lack of communication.

  “Shakes!” I shouted, pulling out a paper. “I knew it sounded familiar, but I was so excited to hear about Jon it didn’t immediately register.” I pulled out the whole file and laid it in front of him. “Mackenzie Adams. Currently employed at Best Friends Animal Hotel in Chelsea, but she also works as a bartender at Shakes in Lower Manhattan.”

  “Animal hotel?” Gus questioned.

  “Yeah, apparently when you travel you can leave your pets with them and they give them the five-paw treatment.” I quoted the hotel slogan. It was also the largest animal
shelter in Manhattan, founded by Mackenzie Adams herself. “This is good news! Hopefully Mackenzie will be there tonight and I can turn the tables on this case.”

  At eleven that night, Gus and I joined the rest of his hot model coworkers at Shakes. Unlike Quay, this was a club. There were three warehouse-type rooms with high ceilings that were packed with people, and each room had its own deejay spinning. The VIP area was located over the dance floor. From below it looked like a party in the sky.

  I grabbed tightly onto Gus’s hand as we walked through the mob of sweaty bodies. The fire escape-type stairs led up to the main VIP area, where Gus’s friends and Jon were. Once at the top, I understood why they called it Shakes. The speakers blasted music through the room so loudly that you felt your body shake from the vibrations.

  There was no way I was going to be able to find Mackenzie; the place was packed wall-to-wall with people dancing, humping, and inevitably, recreational drug using. There were probably close to two thousand people in the building. Gus led me to the VIP area they had reserved.

  “Do you want something to drink?” he shouted. Holding my index finger to my ear, I covered my throbbing eardrum and shook my head.

  “You okay?” he shouted again, this time not as loud.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Where is …”

  Gus nodded to a tall gentleman headed in our direction. He was not at all what I’d expected Gus’s type to be. He was thin and extremely tall with a strong masculine jaw—very athletic. His sandy blonde hair looked dark against his fair skin, and his big blue eyes brightened when he noticed Gus. With my hand still holding Gus’s, I knew exactly when his hand began to sweat and why—Jon was walking toward us. Never had I seen my best friend like this, so I took the opportunity to revel in the moment.

  “Gustavo,” Jon said as he approached us. Although the music was blasting through the speakers, I thought I heard a hint of a Scottish accent. Jon shook Gus’s hand and looked at me. Unable to hide my happiness, I wrapped my arms around Jon’s thin waist.

  “Jon, this is Braelynn.” Jon’s hand came around me, holding me under his arm.

  “Hi,” I said, releasing his waist but leaving his arm wrapped around my shoulder. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

  Smiling before he leaned down, Jon brought his mouth close to my ear. Unlike Gus, Jon spoke without destroying my eardrum. “Likewise. I have heard so much about you.” His Scottish accent became very noticeable when he said the word, “heard.” “Thank you for coming out tonight. I know Gustavo was a wee bit concerned.”

  “I’d do anything for Gus.”

  “Thank you.” He placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

  Gus looked like a deer caught in headlights. Laughing out loud, I grabbed his cheek. “Jon gets my stamp of approval,” I shouted over to him. Gus beamed at Jon and bit his lower lip. I couldn’t help but feel like a proud mama.

  We joined the remainder of the party on the couches. I sat between Gus and Jon so no one suspected anything. With the conversation between them flowing more after a few drinks, I leaned back on the couch and swayed my head to the music. The Long Island iced tea was actually making the thumping techno music enjoyable. The cocktail waitress slid another one in front of me and I squeezed the lemon into it as I caught parts of Jon and Gus’s conversation. I leaned forward with a bright smile and both men stopped talking to look at me.

  “Gus, can you go get me another drink? This one is watered down.” I chugged my almost full glass. God, I’m going to pay for that.

  “How can it be watered down?” Gus asked, lifting my almost empty drink.

  Trying not to hiccup, I finished the rest of my drink. “Please, Gus.”

  “Fine. I’ll be right back.” He pushed off my leg and rose, kissing the top of my head before heading toward the bar.

  I turned to Jon with a mischievous smile plastered on my face. “So, Jon …”

  “Braelynn?” he questioned.

  “I’m going to use the little ladies’ room. I need you to stand with me, and then head toward Gus. I think he probably wants to give you a proper hello.” I covered my mouth and held in a small burp, the alcohol kicking in sooner than I thought. “Also, tell him I don’t need a new drink.”

  Jon kissed my forehead after we both rose. “Gustavo is so lucky to have you.”

  “Make sure you tell him that.”

  I started toward the bar and made a quick left, heading downstairs to find the ladies’ room. The smell of weed and sweat blended together in the air. Keeping my arms tucked to my sides, I dodged the entangled bodies. Once I finally found the bathroom, I waited in line twenty minutes before it was my turn. Hopefully that was enough time for Jon and Gus—Gustavo, as Jon had called him all night.

  I exited the stall and headed for the crowded sink. There were more ladies waiting in line to look at themselves in the mirror than to actually use the restroom. What else is new? Excusing myself though, I found the sink and lathered soap over my hands. I peeked up to look in the mirror and noticed that my mascara was beginning to smear under my eyes. Now I understood why everyone was crowding the mirror. No makeup could stand a chance against the humidity and heat of the place.

  I reached up and cleaned the black gunk from underneath and the corners of my eyes. When my fingertips touched the inside of my eyes, they instantly began to burn and tears formed from the lemon juice and soap still on my fingers.

  “Fuck,” I cursed as more tears began to form.

  “He’s not worth it,” a smoky female voice called from behind me. I turned to correct her, to tell her that the tears were a result of my stupidity and not a man. With my head down so my mascara would stop running, I turned. Her nametag was the first thing I saw.

  Mackenzie.

  Mackenzie Adams.

  Hallelujah.

  She was about five-foot-five with chestnut-brown, straight hair cut into an angled bob and dark brown eyes that seemed to dominate her face. She was stunning. Breathtaking, actually. Maybe if I played my cards differently than I had with Helen, she would help me out.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. Keeping my face sad, as if I was still crying, I sniffled. Looking at her through the mirror, I continued, “Really shitty week.”

  “Don’t be silly. No man is worth our tears.” She smiled as she reached around me and pumped a small squirt of soap into her hand.

  “This one is a big fucking asshole,” I informed her. The girl in front of her moved, so she stepped right next to me.

  Rinsing her hands, she looked over at me through the mirror. “Aren’t they all? I’m Mackenzie,”—she pointed to her nametag—“but you can call me Mack for short.”

  “Yes, they are. I’m Braelynn.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek before she spoke. “Hey, I’m bartending in the back room for a bunch of stuffy older men smoking cigars. It’s nothing fancy or fun, but if you don’t mind joining, you can vent to me about the asshole.” She smiled again after she was finished.

  “Really?” Good-bye bad week!

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “Trust me, it is super boring back there.”

  “Sure. Just let me send my friend a text message.” I pulled my cell out of my clutch and texted Gus.

  Me: I found Mackenzie. BRB.

  Gustavo Ortiz: :)

  I followed Mackenzie out of the bathroom and through the crowd. She led me to the entrance and turned down a long hallway connecting the warehouse-like club to a cigar bar. Pushing the glass door open, the cloud of smoke hit me like a tidal wave. The room was small and hazy and filled with old men who sipped on scotch and puffed on stogies. She walked behind the bar, and I took a seat in front of her.

  “So what’s your poison?” she asked, placing a white napkin in front of me.

  “Jack and Coke,” I replied.

  She made my drink and placed a full shot glass next to it. “Here, take this. You’re too sweet to cry.” I pulled out cash to pay her, but she stopped me. “It’s on me. I’ve been stuck with the
se old men all night, so trust me, you’re doing me a favor.”

  “Thanks. He’s just some asshole at work who’s been pissing me off,” I said, taking the shot. “He’s such a pain and a liar. I got a nasty email from him when I was in line in the bathroom. I guess the alcohol made me more emotional than usual.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry. Is there any way you can talk to your boss about him?” She seemed genuinely concerned about my fake problem.

  “Eh, I don’t want to be that girl. I’m new there, so I don’t want to cause any trouble.” I tried covering my tracks.

  “What’s his name? I can have his ass kicked,” she joked, taking my empty shot glass.

  “Drew Seymour,” I said, watching her carefully. Just like Helen, her whole body transformed.

  “Drew Seymour? With Allied Mortgage?” Even in the dark smoky room, I could tell she was pale.

  “Oh my God, you know him?” I fake panicked. “Oh, fuck. Please don’t tell him I called him an asshole.” I lowered my head, slamming it a couple times on my forearm and acting as best as I could.

  “Listen to me, Braelynn.” Bracing her hands against the bar, she leaned in, her face deadly serious. “Stay away from him. You hear me? He’s trouble.”

  “How so?” I questioned, hoping she would continue.

  “Look, I can’t discuss that right now. It’s a long story, but trust me. Stay away from him.”

  “Thanks, Mack.” I huffed. I needed her to be my friend; I needed her to tell me what she knew about him. I pouted and brought one hand under my chin. “I’d forgotten what it was like to talk to another woman. I just moved to the city and my best friend is a guy.”

  She took her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to me. “Enter your number. I’ll text you mine. We can grab lunch sometime.”

  “Oh, that would be great.” I took her phone and entered my cell number, then hit the send button just to make sure I’d have hers. When I felt my clutch vibrating, I hit the end button. “Okay, I’ll save yours.”

  “So where are you from?”