by K. Webster
“Come on in. I’m almost ready,” she calls out from somewhere within the apartment.
Taking her invitation, I let myself inside and close the door behind me.
“I had a wardrobe malfunction. I’ll be out in just a second,” she promises from her room. Her voice sounds much better than last night. Maybe she’s given some thought to my words. I sure as hell hope so.
Walking over to a stack of magazines sitting at her desk, I flip through them. They’re all interior decorating magazines. And now that I glance around, I notice that she’s cleverly designed her own living space. It’s modern with clean lines but splashes of color here and there. Her own space looks just as good, if not better, than the covers of most of the magazines I’m flipping through.
I can hear her singing along to the music and she sounds cute as hell. The smile on my face is unavoidable. Noticing a sketch pad on the desk, I flip through it, being the nosy bastard I am. It’s filled with sketches of floor plans, color scheme ideas, websites, and other notes. I’m about to set it down, but I realize that the music has stopped and she has suddenly appeared in the doorway. At first, her smile is gigantic and I’m mesmerized by how fucking beautiful she is—just like I remember from last night.
Her length, dark hair is pulled up in a sleek bun and pinned all in place. The makeup on her face is heavy, accentuating her full, red lips. A simple pearl necklace adorns her otherwise naked neck. The red dress she’s wearing is strapless and knee-length, hugging every delicious curve of her body. Long, chocolate-colored legs stretch all the way down to her very high, black heels. She’s a fucking knockout.
“O, you look incredible—like, I fucking can’t breathe right now you’re so hot. Shit, woman,” I growl as I approach her, ready to devour those lips.
Her eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t miss the flash of hunger that must match my own look.
“What are you doing in my apartment?” she hisses and takes a step back, crossing her arms over her lovely chest. It’s clear she has her fucking wall up.
“You told me to come in. I needed to see you again.” I don’t stop advancing until I’m inches from her.
She’s pissed and it can’t be any clearer. But when I lean into her and inhale the intoxicating scent of her perfume, she gasps. When my eyes meet hers, the angry look has dissipated. Indecision crosses her features. Not waiting for permission, I tilt forward and softly press my lips to hers. She’s so clean and perfect that I don’t want to dirty her up since I still haven’t showered.
The way she tastes has been seared into my memory. I take my time exploring her mouth with mine. Knowing that, if I don’t quit now, I’ll only want more, I decide to break away from our kiss. She surprises me, though. When her delicate hands grasp each side of my face along my jaw, she pulls me closer. This time, she eagerly meets my tongue with hers. Her moan is soft and telling—telling me that she wants me as badly as I want her. Finally, she wrenches away from me, panting, and begins to pace the room nervously.
“Thad, what are you doing here?”
“I told you I came to see you, but clearly, you were expecting someone else.” I sound like a fucking pussy, but I’m hurt that she’s not all dolled up for me. If I weren’t worried about ruining her perfect living room, I’d plant a fist right through the wall—I know exactly who she’s all dressed up for.
Last night meant nothing to her.
Her lips form a pout and I can see that she feels guilty. But when her eyes glance over at the front door and then back over at me, I know I’ve lost.
“Thad,” she frowns. She doesn’t have to say the words. I already know.
“Have fun with Trent. It looks like he’s taking you somewhere special,” I mutter angrily. Then I stalk toward the door, eager to get away from her blatant rejection.
“Wait.”
With my hand on the doorknob, I turn to regard her with a questioning look. Her eyes are brimming with tears.
“I’m sorry. In another life, Thad. I just can’t.”
I shake my head in disappointment as I open the door. “Tell me, Opal. Can’t or won’t?”
She bites her lip but doesn’t make a move toward me. Her choice is made.
“There is something there and you goddamn know it.” I pause a moment before snapping out the last of my piece. “And you’ll realize it when you’re with Trent but thinking about me.”
Then I storm out the door and slam it behind me. Ignoring the slow-ass elevator, I take the stairs instead, two steps at a time until I make it back to the parking garage.
As I straddle the bike, I try to figure out why the fuck she is wasting her time with my brother. He’s never been one to date seriously—ever. A few years ago, he dated a chick he looked at differently—like maybe he loved her—but then she was gone. Never has he looked at anyone that way again. Especially not Opal. He treats her like she’s a fucking colleague and she’s too damn blind to notice.
Based on the expression that was on Opal’s face, for some unknown reason, she wants to be his main squeeze. She’s setting herself up for a broken heart. And the thought of someone, especially my brother, breaking that heart of hers makes me nearly blind with rage.
If she were mine, I’d never break her heart.
I blink rapidly to dry my tears the moment he’s gone. My heart begs me to go after him, but the sane part of my brain keeps my feet firmly planted in place.
He’s right. I can’t stop thinking about him.
Not even seconds after he slams the door, I hear a knock.
Thad. He came back.
I’m still frozen in the spot where he left me fighting the urge to chase after him. Pulling myself from my daze, I hurry over to the door and open it. I’m about to throw myself into his arms but stop dead in my tracks.
“Trent?” I mutter under my breath. Even though I knew he was coming, I still didn’t expect to see him standing here. I expected Thad.
“Going somewhere in a hurry?” he chuckles.
I’m glad my skin is darker than Olive’s because the burning on my cheeks from embarrassment would have given me away otherwise. I flick my eyes down the hallway and my heart sinks when I don’t see Thad.
Why did I let him leave?
Trent smiles warmly at me, bringing me back to the present—back to him. What am I doing? Trent was the plan before Thad came bursting into my life. Shit, Trent is the plan.
Trent. Is. The. Plan.
“Uh, no. Let me grab my purse,” I stutter.
I quickly snatch it off the entryway table and emerge back into the hallway, dragging the door closed behind me and locking it. Now that I’ve composed myself, I’m ready to face Trent.
Plastering on a winning smile, I ask him, “So, where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to one of the finest steak houses in the city. I promise you’ll love it. Oh, you look lovely by the way,” he states as he grabs my hand and guides me to the elevator.
Disappointment courses through my veins as I realize I am just “lovely by the way” to him. The look on Thad’s face when I saw him moments earlier was of pure appreciation. He wanted me—needed me. And I needed him.
Get him out of your head! You need Trent.
The very idea of eating anything right now has me wanting to puke. I hate how Thad left. My heart is bouncing all over the place as I worry for him. He was definitely hurt—that was clearly written all over his face.
Once inside the elevator, Trent leans over and kisses the top of my head. My fucking head. I try to keep a proper smile, but it falls away as I think about how terrible a person I am. Is Thad really so bad? He makes me feel things nobody else ever has before. My hand grows cold in Trent’s and I feel dizzy.
The elevator opens to the garage level and Trent guides me to his car. Feeling the burn of someone’s gaze upon me, I scan the garage with my eyes. In the shadows, they lock on a familiar pair of furious, brooding, green ones. And even though my surroundings spin, he remains steadfast.
Thad.
The breath is knocked from my gut to see him looking all delicious, manly, and still covered in filth as he straddles the Harley. Nothing else exists in the garage but him. However, I’m yanked from my spell when Trent stops in front of the passenger’s side of his car. My gaze briefly flips over to him as he unlocks the car and opens the door for me. When my eyes land back on Thad, he shakes and then bows his head. Even from all the way over here, I can see the way the muscles in his arms tighten over and over again.
I’m sorry.
Tears spring in my eyes as Trent helps me into the car. He’s completely oblivious to his wounded brother in the shadows. I wounded him. Once seated inside, I quickly swipe away the tears with the back of my hand. I have to pull myself together.
After a few moments, Trent is weaving expertly in and out of traffic toward the restaurant. When we stop at a stoplight, he turns his head and looks at me.
“Listen, Opal, I feel bad about last night. That was rude of me to leave you there at my parents’ house with no way to get home.”
I know he thinks my mood has something to do with his abandoning me with his evil mother.
Hardly.
I’m upset because I wronged Thad. I know I wronged him. Problem is, I’m not sure how to clean up my mess. I want to be with Trent. Trent has always been the plan. So why do I feel so fucking gutted about leaving Thad in that garage?
“I wasn’t being a good friend,” he sighs when I don’t answer him.
That fucking word will be the death of me.
Thankfully the light turns green and he doesn’t see me wince at his favorite word.
“It’s okay,” I manage to sputter out. But it’s not okay. None of this is okay.
His hand reaches for mine and squeezes. My skin is clammy and cold. For the rest of the trip to dinner, Trent thumbs the top of my hand while I think about his brother. Thad was right.
Dinner has long been over and I’ve tried to be a witty, intelligent date for Trent, but now, I am exhausted and have taken to guzzling my wine. The challenge has been trying to stay in the present with Trent when my mind keeps replaying every single encounter with Thad.
In another life. God, what sort of bitch am I? Those green eyes of his flashed when I said those words. His eyes asked, Why not this life? For four years, I’ve waited for this moment with Trent, and it’s shit. All of it. I’m clearly suffering from mental issues, because now that I have what I want, my heart beats for someone else. Maybe I should get Dr. Sweeney’s number from Andi.
“Opal,” Trent chuckles, interrupting my thoughts, “you should have seen this guy’s investment portfolio. It was fucking amazing. He had his hand in just about everything available. When I asked him why he had so many, he very seriously told me he was attempting to diversify his assets. The entire thing was ridiculous.”
As he continues to laugh, I stare humorously at him. His blue eyes twinkle and his bright smile is perfect. So why do I keep thinking about an angry, green pair of eyes and a lopsided grin. Shaking my head, I drain my wine glass. As soon as it’s gone, I stare into it, wishing I had another glass already.
“Hey,” he says softly.
I drag my eyes back up to his to find him frowning.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been talking all night, and you just seem off. Is everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay.
“It’s fine. I’m just tired.” A lie.
His eyes skitter down to the small portion of cleavage revealed by my dress, but then they are back on mine. This time, though, the warmness is gone and his eyes are filled with heat. With Trent, I don’t see this look often.
“Why don’t we go back to my place and watch a movie? You can relax there. I have more wine there, too.”
He winks, and I shiver. Everything, from what he’s doing and saying, is suggesting something more. Finally. With just one look, he is able to yank me from my thoughts of Thad. This man, Trent, is who I want. I’ve been after him for four years. Four long years. The look in his eyes tells me that he’s finally ready. I’d be a fool to throw away all of this progress for one person I barely know and stupidly slept with.
I smile over at him. “I’d like that.”
I think.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he teases, gesturing into the entryway of his loft.
The space is absolutely breathtaking. The ceilings are incredibly high. It has an industrial yet modern feel to it. The color scheme is mostly gray, but somehow, it works without feeling cold. The entire length of the loft is lined with large, picturesque windows from floor to ceiling. Those puppies cost a pretty penny for sure.
“This place is amazing—” I start to say but stupidly trip over the area rug due to partly being tipsy and partly these damn heels. My knees hit the carpet hard. “Oh!” I cry out.
In the embarrassing fall, I managed to nick my tongue with my teeth. For some reason, the sting on my tongue and knees coupled with the humiliation I feel causes tears to roll out of my eyes. Tonight is just not my night.
Suddenly, I feel my shoes being removed and strong arms lifting me to my feet. Trent turns me to face him and regards me with tender eyes.
“You’re crying.”
I nod shamefully.
He lifts my chin and softly presses his lips to mine. The caring move startles me, but my heart begins beating out of control in my chest at our proximity. Just when I think he’s really going to kiss me, he pulls away.
I have to stifle the aggravated sigh that tries to rush from my lips. My lips.
“I can’t fucking stop looking at these lips. If you were my girl, I’d spend an entire night worshipping them with my mouth until they were swollen and sore.”
Why doesn’t Trent feel the need to devour my lips like Thad does?
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go get us something to drink,” Trent grins and saunters off to the kitchen.
My mind is all over the place. This is what I want. This is what I have always wanted.
Is it?
Shit!
Thoughts of Thad try and try to niggle their way into my brain and take up residence, but I force them out. I can’t make the proper decisions if he’s clouding my brain and my judgment.
“Cape Cod?” he asks as he hands me one of the drinks.
“What’s in it?” I question, bringing my lips to my glass to taste it. It tastes strong, but I need strong to get over my nerves.
“Vodka and cranberry juice,” he winks and sits beside me.
As I did from the wink he gave me earlier, I shiver. Then I take a large sip while he turns on the television. The drink tastes sweeter this time as my mouth adjusts to the vodka.
“What do you want to watch? Thor? The Hunger Games? Wolf of Wall Street?” he asks as he looks through his DVDs.
I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out which one he wants to watch. I know my part—the part of me he expects.
“I love me some Leonardo DiCaprio,” I grin over at him.
He smiles approvingly at me as he sets up the movie about the financial mogul. Sipping more of my drink, I enjoy the tingling beginning to course through my body.
You wouldn’t be wasting time watching movies if Thad were here.
“These drinks are delicious,” I babble out nervously as I finish off my glass. Thad was right. Shit!
Laughing at me, he snatches my empty glass and heads off to make another one. He’s a little tipsy, therefore he’s more relaxed than he’s ever been around me. I’m the one who needs to take a chill pill and enjoy this. This has to work. We will work. I think.
Moments later, he comes back sans his suit jacket and tie. His top two buttons are undone on his dress shirt and he’s rolled up his sleeves. He looks incredibly attractive—like the all-American boy next door. I’d be a fool not to think the blond-haired man before me isn’t cute.
I’m a fool. He’s cute—definitely.
But mouthwatering?
> That’s what Thad does to me. In fact, just thinking about his stubbly jawline has my body warming all over.
Trent sits beside me, breaking my thoughts from the bad boy on the Harley, and hands over my newly refilled drink. After I take a sip, he leans over and kisses me, this time with a little tongue. I accept his kiss and search desperately within me for the fire—even one little spark. His kiss tells me that he wants more than just that, but I can’t help comparing the kiss to Thad’s. Thad kisses me with every emotion all rolled into one—passion, anger, lust, protection—and I leave the kiss feeling overstimulated in the best possible way. Trent’s kiss is just a kiss.
Thad was right.
Trent breaks away with a smile as the movie starts and settles his large hand on my bare thigh. I wait for the chills. I wait for the butterflies. Nothing. Finally, I resolve to wait for the movie to begin.
For the next couple of hours, we drink and enjoy the movie. Things are comfortable—dare I say friendly—but not at all what I expected. I expected heat. Fire. But what I’ve gotten is warmth.
Throughout the movie, he kisses me, touches me. I force my heart to comply with his every move. Our bodies will learn to be compatible. How could they not? Our minds are certainly compatible. But when the movie finally ends, I’m exhausted from all the forcing. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe I’m just tired. Right now, I just want to go home.
“I guess now you’ll need to call me a cab. You are in no condition to drive,” I sigh with a smile. I had such high hopes for tonight. Things were supposed to be different. We were supposed to work.
He surprises me when he captures my mouth with his again and kisses me deeply. For Trent, this is the most passion I’ve seen yet. When he pulls at my bottom lip with his teeth, I let out a whimper. Maybe I’ve been so wrapped up in forcing something that I just needed to give a little more time. The look in his eyes says that he’s ready. Am I?
