by I. A. Dice
He scoffed, gripping my wrist and pushing me away far enough to look me in the eyes. “If you say you shouldn’t rely on me like that, I’ll flip. Be selfish. Please be selfish. Focus on yourself. Take what you need, and don’t look back.”
As if it were so easy. I wanted to be selfish, but it proved impossible when Thomas, despite saying that he used me as much as I used him, acted selfless. He put me, my well-being and happiness on a pedestal, and I wanted to do the same and return the favour somehow, even though I had no idea what ghosts hid in his closet.
“You never told me what happened to you.” I returned to the previous position. “Why did you end up a bitter-sweet asshole who favours meaningless sex with those perfect blondes?”
His muscles tensed under my fingertips. For the longest time, he remained silent, probably relieving whatever happened. I wanted to kick my own ass for asking. I wriggled out of his embrace, cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
We were past the friends-with-benefits stage, but neither of us were ready to admit it yet. We helped each other and slowly, but surely, we were losing ourselves in what drew and held us together.
“When you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen,” I said, and tried to get up, but he dug his fingers into my thighs to keep me in place.
“So will I.”
Something in his eyes, the kind of vulnerability I knew all too well, pushed me to play a dangerous game.
“What’s worse,” I whispered, “pain or fear?”
He didn’t blink as if afraid to miss my reaction. “Pain.”
“Fear,” I countered, hinting too much. “It lasts longer.”
“Fear is just a reaction. It’s the product of your own thoughts.”
“Maybe, but the reason behind the fear is real.”
“Danger and pain are real. Fear is just a great illusion. Everything you want is waiting on the other side of fear. Are you afraid of Adrian?”
I shook my head, afraid that Thomas would draw his own conclusions. He knew too much already, and being a perceptive guy, he could figure out the reason why I came back home early. He didn’t need more hints, but the look on his face told me he didn’t believe me.
“Okay, so if he walked through the door right now, and saw us here together, what would your first reaction be?”
I stared at him, surprised and annoyed at him for breaking the rules. He agreed not to ask questions. I got up, and took the bottle of wine with me, heading to the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway. The answer rolled off my tongue before I thought it through.
“That depends whether or not he would walk in sober.”
Thomas’s head snapped to me, his eyes wide, eyebrow raised. I gave him no time to reply, disappearing around the corner. I filled two glasses with the wine Thomas brought, my heart bruising my ribcage with irregular beats. He was closer to the truth than anyone else, and the trust I put in him surprised me the most.
The burning need to let him in on the secret was something I hadn’t expected. Speaking about what happened would start a chain of events I didn’t want to be a part of.
“Sober?” Thomas asked when I came back.
He outstretched his hands, pulling me right back onto his lap. I straddled him and found his lips, hungry for the safety he offered. The way his hands caressed my face and neck had me longing for more.
I bit on his lower lip, then leaned back to grab the wine. I sipped a little, then let him drink from my glass.
“Drugs. He’s in rehab now.”
I cut the conversation short, sliding off Thomas’s lap and opening the laptop. He scooted closer, wrapped his arm around my stomach, and kissed the nape of my neck.
“What are you doing?” He glanced at the screen. “Bachelorette party planning?”
“Yes, and I could use your help. Mel said Barcelona is your go-to weekend break. Do you happen to know any male strip clubs out there?”
Thomas sat up, his body stiff; jaw tight. It looked like a battle raged in his head, and I couldn’t understand what got him from calm to annoyed in a matter of seconds.
“Strip club? You think that’s a good idea?”
I turned back to the screen. “I couldn’t care less, but Mel is counting on it. Besides, it’s not like the bachelor party won’t have strippers, so it’s only fair we get to watch men take their clothes off.”
Thomas rose to his feet to pace the living room. I frowned, watching the anger dance in his eyes.
“It’s not safe,” he muttered. “They’re all drunk and high and…” He crouched down beside me. “I’ll be a thousand miles away, baby. I won’t be able to help you if something goes wrong. You need to stay safe, and a male strip-club isn’t a safe place.”
My heart swelled a little. There was nothing sexier than a man worrying about his girl.
You’re not his.
True. It was hard to remember when Thomas acted protective. I took his hand and laced our fingers.
“No need to worry. I want a big, organised show. A friend of mine went to one last year, and she said it’s fun and safe. Maybe Mel will get lucky enough and get to join them on stage. Apparently, they take a few girls to cover their manly parts with baby lotion and then they splash it all over the room.”
Thomas’s face told me I shared too much information.
“What if they want you to go on stage with them?” he growled, getting up to pace some more. “I told you I won’t share you. You’re with me, and …”
“No. I’m not. I only sleep with you. It’s just sex! You have no right to dictate what I can and can’t do. You don’t get to control me!”
“That’s it,” Adrian stood in the middle of the room, while I hid in the corner, my lip bleeding. “You don’t fucking leave this dorm room without me, understood?! Every fucking douche bag on campus wants to get in your pants!”
Tears were absent. I only cried the first few times Adrian took out his paranoia and rage on me. Then I stopped crying. I stopped fighting too. There was no point to it, he was stronger; he always won.
I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Okay.”
It did nothing to appease Adrian. There was no pattern to his behaviour. Words and actions that calmed him down last time were just as easily infuriating him the next time he came back home high. I couldn’t prepare, because I never knew what was coming.
The one constant was the reason behind his anger—me, or the mere idea of any guy getting anywhere near me. His territoriality got out of control, and Adrian sank deeper and deeper into the madness.
He took a few steps toward me, then caught my wrist and pinned me to the wall, closing five fingers around my throat.
“I’m not fucking kidding!” He squeezed harder. “You don’t leave unless I’m with you.”
Warm hands rested on both sides of my head; long fingers disappeared in my hair. I blinked a few times, coming out of the memory. Thomas crouched in front of me, nothing short of worry in his cinnamon irises.
“It’s not just sex,” he said, “but I am sorry. I don’t want to boss you around. That is not what I’m trying to do; I’m just worried.”
“I know.” I rested my forehead on his, letting him wrap his arms around me. “And I know why you’re still here despite me proving time and time again that I’m not all there, but I’ll pretend I don’t.”
“Whatever you need.” He sat back down, taking the laptop with him. “I know a place that organises male strip shows.”
That was the first evening we spent together and didn’t have sex. We drank the wine, organised the bachelorette party, and then we just laid there, talking until I fell asleep with my head nestled in the crook of his neck.
CHAPTER 20
NADIA
Asking for trouble
“Mum called last night. She asked about you.” Nick looked at me from the driver’s seat of his Ranger Rover.
We were on our way to C&G Records. It only took him five weeks to find time to show me around the place and
let me meet some of the stars he and Thomas mentored.
I was excited, and annoyed too, because Thomas was on his way to the airport. He was flying over to Madrid for a few days. He had a meeting scheduled with a woman who wanted to sell her belated husband’s independent record label. It was nice of him to show up early in the morning to say goodbye, but since he left my apartment, my mood had been deteriorating. I had gotten used to his presence and now had to survive almost four days without his help.
I prepared for many topics when I took the passenger seat in my brother’s car—Thomas, Adrian, even my argument with Mel, but not our mother, Karen.
We hadn’t spoken for three years, and I didn’t plan to change that any time soon. Or ever, to be honest. I had no respect for the woman, and I still couldn’t believe that Nick forgave her for what she did at my eighteenth birthday party.
“Will she be at the wedding?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question.
Nick didn’t despise her, and it was a given that one of the two-hundred and fifty giftbags was for Karen.
“Of course she is. Nadia, don’t you think it’s time to let it go?”
Not the first time we had that conversation. Any mentioning of Karen always ended in a fight between us but not today. I had enough going on without adding the slutty, cheating, poor-excuse-for-a-mother to the equation. She wasn’t worth it.
“Why did you forgive her? I mean, he was your friend! I’m fuming at the very thought of seeing her face.”
“I haven’t forgiven her, but after a while I learnt to live with it. She’s still our mother. Do you really want to pretend for the rest of your life that she doesn’t exist?”
That was the plan. Nick’s wedding was the first and last time I had to face her since Dad’s funeral. She sure as hell wouldn’t be invited to my wedding.
I sighed and turned away to look out the window. “I keep seeing the look on Dad’s face when he saw them.”
Arthur Grimwald was amazing. He considered his family his biggest accomplishment and gave Nick and me all the attention and love he could muster. Karen was his muse, the love of his life and his winning lottery ticket. He never failed to make her feel special and loved. We were a perfect family—the kind you only see in movies.
That was until the night of my eighteenth birthday when Karen cheated on Dad with Jake—Nick’s friend, and my crush. Dad found them in one of the guest bedrooms when it was time to serve the cake.
Needless to say, the party was ruined, and Karen’s stuff started flying out the windows. Within a month they were divorced, and Dad was devastated. He couldn’t move on. The only reason he kept it together was for me and Nick, but I knew that Karen destroyed him. Less than a year later, he died of a heart attack.
My world fell to pieces that day. I blamed Karen, and my hatred grew stronger. She was pure evil, and nothing could change it, because nothing could ever bring Dad back.
“Just let her explain. You never gave her the chance to,” Nick said.
“I’ll think about it.”
I wouldn’t, but lying was the fastest way to get Nick to drop the subject. He raised an eyebrow and was right to disbelieve me. There was no point in listening to Karen’s excuses, because what she did was inexcusable. Nothing justified cheating. Nothing.
We turned right off the main road, and Nick parked the car in the Managing Directors spot, right next to Thomas’s BMW. A small smile crossed my lips. He hadn’t left yet.
We walked inside through a set of glass doors which led to a spacious lobby. A reception desk stood in the middle of the room occupied by the receptionist—a stunning blonde who greeted us with a dazzling smile on her thin, red lips. She wore a tight-fitted, grey dress that accentuated her extra-long legs which complimented the platinum blond waves.
“Caroline Michaels.” She extended her arm to me.
“Nadia Grimwald.”
She looked like a model. A blue-eyed, blonde model. Thomas’s perfection. My imagination got to work, creating images of the two of them together. I pushed them to the back of my mind. Thomas wouldn’t sleep with others while we had our deal.
No, he was a decent guy.
We walked down a long corridor, and my head darted from one wall to another. Platinum CD’s and Grammy awards hung exhibited in frames. The abundance of famous names made me dizzy. We reached another reception where two black desks stood outside of two pairs of doors. It looked like Nick and Thomas had private assistants.
Nick settled for a young guy, who rose to his feet, when he saw us approach. He flashed me a smile, and took a notepad and a pen, acting like a waiter.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
“Sure.” The cheeky side of my personality made an entrance. “A tall, extra shot, extra-hot, extra-whip, sugar-free vanilla latte please.”
The smile slipped from his lips, but he forced it right back on, scribbling in the notepad. “No problem, I’ll just be…” He scratched his head. “I’ll be just a moment.”
“Relax, Anthony.”
We heard, and my insides fluttered.
“She’s messing with you. Black coffee, one sugar for Nadia, and the usual for us.”
“Sorry,” I muttered to Anthony, then turned to Thomas. “Weren’t you supposed to be on your way to the airport right now?”
“Don’t tell me she sold the label to someone else,” Nick asked.
“No, but she rang to say she can’t meet me for lunch, and it’ll have to be dinner. Marie re-booked my flights.” He looked at his assistant and frowned. “Manners, Marie,” he clipped.
She tore her round ass from the chair, and I wished she had stayed seated. High heels, a hour-glass figure, boobs twice the size of mine, and a skirt that covered the strategic parts only.
I glanced down, embarrassed by the plain, yellow skater dress and heeled sandals that made me look about fifteen.
“We might as well start now and come back in a bit for the coffee,” Nick said, backing out to the main corridor. “Right, so this is what our recording studios look like. They’re all occupied now, but Aaron agreed for you to watch him work.” Nick opened the door to studio number three and let me in first.
Goosebumps covered every inch of my skin when I heard the voice I loved. The guy behind the glass wall was about my age, and though he lacked good looks, his voice compensated. He had that raspy flow as if he smoked three packets a day for the last eighty years. The song ended, and he looked up, a broad smile on his lips. He jumped off the chair, appearing much shorter than I expected.
“Hi, I’m Aaron. You must be the boss’s sister. Nadia, is it? It’s great to meet you. I hear you like my music.” He spoke faster than a machine gun. “I heard a lot about you, but Nicholas forgot to mention how stunning you are.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks heated to a faint shade of pink. “I loved what I heard. You have an incredible voice.”
“Oh, do you want to hear more? You can stay here for a while, and I can sing something for you.” His straightforwardness was adorable.
“We just started the tour, but I might take you up on the offer when we’re done.”
He winked and walked back to the recording booth when we turned to leave. We toured the building some more, but nothing was as exciting as hearing Aaron sing, and half an hour later, we entered Nick’s office to drink the lukewarm coffees.
“Your taxi is here, sir.” Marie stood in the doorway, focused on Thomas. She batted her eyelashes, making my stomach sink.
The thought of the two of them sharing an intimate moment flashed in my head like a nasty fin out of the water. The not-knowing hung in the air like smoke, halving the capacity of my lungs.
No. No, okay? He’s not that guy.
I turned to Thomas, breathed out a sigh of relief. He kept his eyes trained on me instead of his pretty assistant.
“Come on, baby doll.” Thomas grabbed his travel bag and rose from the chair. “We’ll have a smoke, and I’ll get going.”
“Don’t
call her that,” Nick spat out.
We let his attitude slide, and walked out of the room, through the long, bright corridors and then outside, turning left toward the smoking area. The taxi was parked in front of the concrete steps which led inside the building, and an older man sat behind the wheel, flicking through his phone. Thomas lit up a Zippo, then rested his back against the wall, and caught my hand.
“Stop it,” I hissed, but a smile ruined the effect.
“Nick can’t see us from my office.”
He tugged harder, making me take a step forward and rest against his side. We were asking for trouble.
“Maybe, but he’s not the only one here, and news travels fast.”
A cloud of smoke hid his handsome face for a second, and then he leaned forward devouring my lips in an affectionate kiss. I loved it when he kissed me out in public. It felt more intimate somehow. The possibility of being caught made my heart race.
“Call me if you need me.” He kissed my head. “And call me if you don’t need me too.” From the back pocket of his pants, he took out the keys to his BMW. “I’ll pick it up on Thursday when I land.”
“You just want an excuse to come over straight from the airport.” I pecked his chin. “No excuse needed. Call me when you land.”
He dropped the cigarette in the ashtray, then grabbed his travel bag and kissed me again. “I will, baby.”
Two minutes later the taxi drove away, and I made my way back inside the building. Nick talked to his assistant out in the reception area outside of his office. Marie walked past me, heading in the direction of the restroom, and both Anthony and Nick watched her, cringing.
“It must be some kind of a record,” Anthony chuckled.
“It sure is. Either that, or he realized there’s only a certain number of blondes in London and decided to keep Marie for longer.”
“You might be onto something, boss. I know he asked her to stay after hours three or four days after she started working here.”
I joined them, feeling an onset of nausea. Their conversation confirmed what I suspected since we entered the building—Thomas was sleeping with his assistant. He said he wouldn’t share me with anyone, and I assumed it worked both ways. Apparently not.
