Mistake

by K. Webster

  “Don’t.”

  I don’t fight him when he pulls my hand back out and steps away from me. Something is going on. I knew it.

  “Who is that?” I demand.

  He shakes his head in frustration. “It’s nobody.”

  “It’s somebody, Thad. Don’t bullshit me. Ever since this morning, you’ve been acting strange. You haven’t taken anything, have you? You don’t plan on taking anything, do you?” My voice has risen a few octaves. I hate myself for even accusing him of doing drugs, but I don’t understand his sudden change in behavior.

  Last night, we went to bed perfectly happy and feeling closer than ever before. And for some reason, this morning, he bailed on me and has been acting weird ever since.

  “It’s nothing.”

  I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Then show me.”

  He sighs but pulls out his phone and holds it up to me. Missed call and voicemail from Kurt. Kurt, his best friend—Kurt, his provider of drugs.

  “Play the voicemail. If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be behaving so strangely. Are you sure you aren’t doing drugs? Did you go to Kurt’s this morning?”

  He flinches and looks down at the floor. His eyes stay there as he answers me with a tone that I can tell is a lie. “No, I’m not doing drugs, and I didn’t go to Kurt’s this morning.”

  “Then play the voicemail.” My voice is quiet. I won’t feel better until I’ve made sure he didn’t take any drugs. If he did, we’ll proceed from there.

  “Please don’t make me do this, O.” Pure desperation. He did do drugs.

  I hold my palm out and he reluctantly drops it into my hand. His eyes are panicked but resigned. With a final frustrated sigh, he crosses his arms across his chest and takes a few steps away from me. I hit play just as I see Trent striding toward us.

  “Hey, man,” Kurt’s voice rasps out. He sounds hungover and tired. “Thanks for coming over last night. Whitney wanted me to thank you for taking care of her in the shower.” He continues rambling on about hanging out again, no pressure, blah-blah-bah. All I heard was ‘ex-girlfriend’ and ‘shower.’

  “You left my bed in the middle of the night to go fuck Whitney?” I hiss out at Thad.

  He whirls around and stalks over to me. “O!” He reaches out and seizes my bare bicep. I try to shake him off, but he tightens his grip so I won’t get away. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then what is it, Thad? Tell me, because right now, it sounds pretty damn awful!”

  He drops his head shamefully but doesn’t answer me.

  “Let go of me. I need to get away from you right now,” I grumble and once again try to free myself from his grasp.

  When he doesn’t let go of me, I slap his face. I don’t slap it hard, but I do slap him hard enough to get his attention. However, he’s unrelenting and stays in his position. Even though I’m pissed at him, his gaze melts me with the way he is furiously glaring down at me. The flesh on my chest burns at his proximity and I curse my traitorous body—the same body that seems to forgive him before my head does.

  “Let her go, Thad,” Trent’s snarls from beside me. In my fury, I didn’t notice his arrival.

  Thad snaps his attention over to Trent. “Fuck you, brother. She’s my woman and I need to talk to her.”

  “Thad,” Trent growls out in warning.

  When he doesn’t release me, Trent hauls back and socks Thad in the stomach, sending him flying backwards.

  “Into the bathroom. Now,” a cold voice hisses from behind us.

  We all look over to see a furious Dr. Sutton pointing to the men’s bathroom.

  Can this evening get any fucking worse?

  As I meet Dr. Sutton’s evil glare, I know that, in fact, it can.

  “What is going on with the three of you?” she snarls once we’re safe inside the bathroom, away from prying eyes.

  “Nothing,” Thad and I answer at the same time.

  I don’t miss the twitch of a smile on his lips. We can fix this—hopefully.

  “Don’t ‘nothing’ me. You and your brother were having a grade school brawl in the lobby of my benefit!” she snaps at Thad.

  His shoulders straighten and he meets her evil stare with one of his own.

  “What happened?” she demands again, taking her turn to look each of us in the eye.

  Trent shrugs his shoulders, and I’m shocked that he hasn’t ratted us out.

  My eyes find Thad’s—I see the remorse as he regards me. What really happened last night? I wish we were alone so he could tell me the story. If he slept with her, I’ll be heartbroken.

  Just like he was when you slept with his brother.

  I bite my lip and try to ignore the sting of my heart. He and I really need to talk.

  “You’re nothing but trouble,” she grumbles to Thad.

  We both flinch at her hateful words.

  “From the day I had to pick you up from the second grade for fighting, I knew it. You’ve been nothing but one difficulty after the other ever since.”

  Thad throws his hands up in the air, “You’re a real piece of work, Mother. O, I’m sorry.” He turns on his heel and storms out of the bathroom.

  When I turn to go after him, sharp claws dig into my arm.

  “Not so fast, little girl.” Her words drip with disgust.

  I turn and look into the eyes of the woman who has hated my guts since day one. “Let me go, lady.”

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  “Mother, that’s enough,” Trent growls at her.

  I have trouble masking my shock at the fact that he spoke up against her.

  She laughs disdainfully. “See, this is the problem, son. This devilish woman has weaseled her way into our lives and has my own son acting out against me. She’s nothing but a trampy jezebel that thrives on ripping families apart.”

  I jerk from her grip and am about to lay into the woman when someone emerges from one of the bathroom stalls.

  Dr. Ellis.

  “Martin, I’m so sorry you had to overhear our family heart-to-heart,” she purrs in a sugary tone.

  She knows him?

  “It didn’t sound like a heart-to-heart to me, Evette,” he snips out. “In fact, it sounded like an attack on Opal.”

  Evette. They most certainly know each other.

  “I’m sorry, Martin, but this brat has done nothing but shake things up in my family since she showed up with my son.”

  He walks over to me and slides his arm around me. “You okay, kid?” he whispers as he hugs me tight from the side.

  I nod as I attempt to not shed a tear for this woman—the woman who is now gaping at our friendly exchange.

  “She’s not a brat—she’s my daughter. And I think you owe her an apology.”

  A surprised rush of breath echoes in the bathroom. Was it mine? Dr. Sutton’s?

  “What?” I gasp and turn in his arms to look at him.

  He grins down at me. “I’m sorry. I opened the results. You’re mine, kid.”

  The emotion rippling through my veins is thick, and tears run out of my eyes as I squeeze him hard, pressing my cheek against his shoulder.

  “You’re my dad.” I never thought I would say those words, ever. Especially not to someone who I had actually hoped was my father.

  “I am—and I’m not going anywhere.”

  His words fill my heart. I can’t wait to tell Thad. My heart sinks when I realize that he left—he’s alone. I need to see him.

  “Well, Evette?” He turns and looks at Dr. Sutton expectantly.

  She eyes him, openmouthed, but straightens her shoulders. I glance over at Trent, and he winks at me supportively.

  “I’m sorry. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she mutters and bolts from the bathroom.

  “How do you know her?” I ask my dad—God, that feels weird—in confusion after the door slams shut.

  “She’s my partner at the fertility practice. I’ve known her since med school. We’ve been friends f
or a long time, but I won’t stand for her treating you badly.”

  I’m shocked but just nod dumbly.

  “The party’s waiting on us, so I need to get in there and make my speech. I’ll find you afterwards and we can talk,” he promises and plants a kiss on the top of my head.

  “I’d like that, Dad.” The word feels foreign on my tongue, but my heart expands in my chest.

  His kind smile gets impossibly larger. “I’d like that too, daughter.”

  We both chuckle.

  After another quick hug, he leaves me in the men’s bathroom with Trent.

  “We have to find him,” I tell him softly.

  His guilty eyes tell me that he agrees. With a hint of determination and an even bigger hint of love in his voice, he murmurs, “Let’s go find my brother.”

  I’ve lost her.

  Fucking lost her.

  I look down at my phone at the picture we took not even an hour ago in her apartment. She’s so beautiful and looks incredibly happy in the picture. I want to make her happy forever. My heart clenches painfully from knowing that she’s drawn the worst possible conclusions.

  So tell her already. Fix this.

  Would she even want to hear me out? Of course she would. It’s Opal—bighearted, sweet, loving Opal. She’ll listen. She has to listen.

  I stand from the chair beside the open bar. I’ve spent the last ten minutes staring at the bottle of Jack Daniel’s behind the bar. If given the chance to drink or have Opal in my arms, I’d choose her every time. Just like now.

  I.

  Choose.

  Her.

  Bursting from my chair, resolved on fixing things between us, I scan the banquet hall for the tall, chocolate-skinned, leggy beauty.

  She’s mine.

  Everything about her is perfect. Her hair always feels so soft within my fingers, and I love tangling them in it so that she can’t escape my lips when I kiss her. I love the way she smells like lavender. The scent is intoxicating—in a healthy way—and I can’t get enough of her. She soothes my very being just by being her.

  You’re my person.

  Her words from last night saturate my soul. She’s my person too. I’ve never had someone who cares so deeply for me the way she does. I can see it in her eyes. She wants my happiness just as much as she wants her own. Lucky for us, our happiness is found together. We may have had a rocky start, but I know it will be worth every struggle in the end.

  How will I tell her? How will I explain that I showered with my ex? I was trying to help her. Please, God, I hope she understands.

  The air in the room warms several degrees just like it always does when she’s in my presence. My eyes scan the room once more until I find her.

  Her.

  Opal.

  Her back is turned to me. Long, dark hair cascades down her back nearly to her ass. And, oh, what a glorious ass it is! The silky fabric perfectly hugs the swell of her bottom. Tonight, if I can get her to forgive me, I’ll make everything up to her with my mouth. I’ll slide the fabric up her long, toned legs and take her in that sexy-ass dress. She’ll moan my name as I drive into her. Her tits will pop out of the top of the dress when I drag it down with my fingers, and I’ll worship those breasts for hours.

  She’s my drug.

  She’s also my recovery.

  She’s my person.

  I’m mentally forcing my cock back into submission so I can claim my woman when a familiar, suited man steps beside her.

  Trent.

  She’s mine!

  As if on cue, he slips a palm onto the small of her back and dips down to say something to her. Then she shrugs her shoulders.

  Is she so quick to leave me for him? The moment I walk out the door, she takes comfort in the first warm body? The warm body of my brother?

  My entire body tenses and I drag my eyes back over to the bar.

  Fuck!

  When I turn back to look in her direction, I see her pointing right at me. I sadly shake my head. Get me out of this fucking room already. Stalking over to the bar, I reach over and yank the bottle of Jack right off the counter.

  “What the h—” the bartender starts, but I wave him off.

  “Put it on Evette Sutton’s tab,” I snap as I storm out of the banquet hall.

  I have to fucking get out of here. There’s no way in hell I can watch him—my own fucking brother—comfort my woman.

  My woman.

  So why am I running away from her?

  I try to will myself to stop, but my legs just go and go until I find myself in my car. I don’t make any moves to turn on the vehicle. I just sit.

  Alone.

  I pick up the bottle and raise it.

  One drink.

  Just one.

  It will take the edge off.

  I twist off the cap and bring the opening to my nose. The smell is familiar, and my chest tightens with need. Will the compulsion always be there? Will these vices always have a claim on my soul?

  I inhale it again and close my eyes.

  Just one drink. Just one.

  Parting my lips, I imagine the amber liquid burning my tongue as I taste it. With each pretend swish of the alcohol in my mouth, my throat burns, practically begs to swallow it. But I don’t sip the liquid.

  Instead, I calmly screw the cap back on.

  Opal.

  She wins every time. This alcohol does nothing to soothe the ache in my heart. The only one with those powers is nearly six feet tall and a damn knockout.

  She’s mine.

  Then go get her!

  After wrenching the car door open, I stand and glare at the wall of the parking garage. Then my gaze falls to the bottle of Jack that I have clenched tight in my grasp.

  Fuck this disease. I’m going after my woman.

  In a dramatic move, I sling the bottle at the wall and watch it explode all over it. Glass litters the ground below and the dark liquid runs down the concrete.

  Take that, Mom.

  Take that, Jack.

  “I’m proud of you.” Her voice.

  Turning around, I see my woman, my Opal, standing before me with a beautiful smile on her face. She’s proud. And it fucking shows.

  “We’ll make this work, Thad,” she says softly as she approaches me. “Whatever happened, we’ll fix it. I’ll fight for you—just like Olive fought for Bray. You’re my person.”

  I groan when her hands find my chest and slide up to my neck.

  Lavender.

  Intoxicating.

  Opal.

  Inhaling her, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around her, hugging her to me. When I reopen them, I see Trent beaming at me from near the elevators. He nods in approval and gives me a thumbs-up before disappearing inside.

  A misunderstanding. A mistake.

  “I’m sorry, O,” I whisper into her hair. “I just went over there to help them. Kurt’s my best friend, and when he called in the middle of the night saying Whitney needed help, I couldn’t just ignore it. Nothing happened with Whit—I just bathed her and made sure she was okay. I didn’t use any drugs.”

  She sniffles and tilts her head up to look at me. “I’m an awful person. I knew deep down you didn’t—I just knew. I’m sorry I accused you. Please forgive me.”

  My eyes search her melted-chocolate ones. Love shines there. And it feels fucking amazing to be seen in someone’s eyes like that. In her eyes.

  “You’re my person too, you know. I fight for you every day. But with me, I fight the demons—because you’re worth it, O. You’ll always be worth it. I’ll slay any dragon to be with you.” I kiss her softly on the lips.

  “My knight in shining armor,” she giggles.

  I nip at her bottom lip with my teeth and she whimpers. “I’ll lock you in the tower and ravish your body forever, my queen.” Then my tongue darts out and I taste her in a brief kiss.

  She tastes so fucking delicious.

  “Sounds like the perfect fairytale ending,” she manages between k
isses. “When do we get this party started?”

  I slide my hands down her silky dress and cup her tight ass. “It starts the moment I get to fuck you in this dress.”

  She pulls away and cocks an eyebrow at me. With a wave of her hand to my car, she grins saucily at me. “Our chariot awaits, lover boy. I’m ready for my happily ever after.”

  Her squeal echoes through the parking garage when I pick her up and heave her over my shoulder.

  I show her a happy ending over and over in the back seat of my Dad’s Lexus.

  “Congratulations, little sister,” Olive smiles and hugs me proudly.

  When she releases me, she walks over to where my dad’s laughing with Bray, Thad, and Trent. Abby’s sitting like a princess on her daddy’s shoulders. I love all of them.

  My happy ever after.

  Life is almost perfect.

  As my eyes scan the crowd, I can’t help the disappointment that courses through my veins. In a perfect world, she’d have come to see me walk across that stage.

  This isn’t a perfect world.

  “Black is a good color on you. Makes you seem taller.”

  I freeze. Her voice. She’s here.

  Spinning around, I’m shocked to see my mother standing primly, wearing a floral-print dress and matching hat. She doesn’t smile—no surprise there—but I see a flicker of pride.

  “Momma, you came.”

  She waves her hand as if it’s no big deal. “You bought the tickets and reserved a hotel room. It would have been rude not to.”

  My heart sinks.

  “Maybe you came because you truly love her and have a terrible way of showing it,” a deep voice says from behind me.

  The warm, heavy arm of my father tucks me into him in a supportive embrace. He and I have made up for lost time in the past couple of weeks. We’ve spent a lot of lunches and evenings together. And Dr. Sutton has even tried to save face and had us all over a couple of times for dinner. I’ve been happy.