I'm Holding On

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I'm Holding On Page 18

by Scarlet Wolfe


  “Hi, sweet girl.”

  “Oh you’re right, Bryn. He’s smooth.”

  What the hell? I hear another woman’s voice and giggling.

  “Hi, who is this?” I ask.

  “This is Tish. I’m Brynlee’s friend.”

  “Well, hello. Is she OK?”

  “She’s feeling fabulous at the moment.” I hear giggling again and a lot of noise. “I can’t see you, so I at least needed to meet you over the phone.”

  “OK. Can I ask where you two are?”

  “Blitz sports pub.”

  “In the Pearl District?”

  “Yep.”

  “Can I speak to Brynlee?”

  “He wants to talk to you,” she says loudly.

  “Hi, Ian. It’s Brynlee.”

  “Sweet girl, are you drinking?”

  “I have to definitely give a yes answer to that question.” Giggles erupt yet again. “At least that’s what this empty pitcher of beer is telling me.”

  “You drank a pitcher of beer? Isaac, head toward Pearl.”

  “Well, Tish and I shared, but I’m a little bit stressed these days, so I think I might’ve drank more of it.” She can hardly speak without laughing, but she’s worrying me.

  “Brynlee, I’m coming there. I want to be sure you get home safely.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “Will you please let me? I don’t believe the men are going to leave you two alone if you’re drinking that much.”

  “Okie dokie. Tish needs to see what sensational eye candy you are, anyway, so see you soon, Mr. Hottie.”

  I chuckle. “See you soon. Don’t you try to leave now.”

  “I won’t.” She bursts into giggles again and ends the call. I’m going to want to bend her over the booth in that place if she doesn’t cut that shit out.

  “Care if we go to Blitz?”

  “Brynlee’s there, huh?”

  “Yes, and she has a friend with her.”

  “I don’t hang out in Pearl, and you’re going to ditch me, aren’t you?”

  “I have a feeling no matter how drunk she is, she’s not going to let that happen. Brynlee’s been keeping her distance the last few days to think. She claims she’s making a decision after she meets our family.”

  “Remember, Ian, no damn fights.”

  A Drewin on My Hands

  Brynlee

  Hottie is on his way here. I shouldn’t have drank so much.

  “Why did I let you call him, Tish? He’s coming here, and I’ll have no fight. My hormones are wreaking havoc already.”

  “He is something else. The way he said, ‘Well, hello’ all inviting. Oh. My. Word. You have a cronut.”

  “A cronut?” I ask.

  “You know, that half donut half croissant that man in New York created.”

  “Yes, I know what they are. I’ve made a copycat. Although, you can’t call them that. I like to call them dossants, but what in the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Drew is the donut, and Ian is the buttery croissant, of course.”

  “Of course.” I stare at her for a second, first trying to focus, and second, trying to wrap my drunk mind around her comment. Then it hits me.”

  My eyes open wide. “You are so right. Drew is sweet like the outer donut layer. It’s rolled in sugar, crispy and firm, the strength of the appetizing dessert.

  “Then you have Ian. He’s the different layers that get you to the creamy, sweet filling. The overindulgence. The part that seems the most sinful.”

  “Yes, and the layers are rich and buttery. See, he’s smooth like butter,” Tish says. “We’ll call it a Drewin. Oh, lord, you have a Drewin on your hands. Two desserts that are amazingly yummy alone, but put together … mmm, chickadee. It is sinfully decadent.”

  We both giggle loudly as I fall over in my booth seat and hold my stomach. Something tells me that tomorrow, I won’t find the idea of having a Drewin on my hands quite so funny, but right now, it sounds freakin’ hilarious.

  I sit back up and wipe my happy tears away. Tish’s eyes are staring off next to me. I turn my head to look and see Ian heading our way and does he ever look tasty.

  “Tell me that is not the buttery croissant.”

  “Oh, that’s him alright. Shit, and his brother is with him. Isaac’s going to think I’m nothing but a troublemaker.”

  I look back to Tish, feeling my face warm. He’ll be giving me that look in a matter of seconds. I feel him next to me, and I know he’s there since her chin is lying on the table as she stares at the golden god.

  I peer up at him, a cheesy grin on my face. I’m certain I have to have a guilty look, too. I mean, I’ve called him eye candy and compared him to a croissant tonight. Oh, and I called him a hottie on the phone. Yes, I think it’s safe to say I’m acting like a giddy teenager.

  “Brynlee, how ya feelin’?” he asks, a lethal grin curling from those talented lips of his.

  “Drunk.” He looks fan-freakin-tastic in his designer jeans and black button up shirt. It fits his virile, defined body superbly, sleeves rolled up the forearms. His blonde strands are shining like he just showered, and I can smell his leather and citrus scent.

  He backs away, letting Isaac move next to him.

  “Brynlee, you haven’t officially met my brother. This is Isaac, and Isaac, this is Brynlee.”

  I reach my hand out to shake his. He’s very good-looking but doesn’t have the sex appeal that leaks from Ian’s pores. He has the same green eyes, but he’s a little shorter, and his hair is a touch darker.

  “Um, nice to meet you, Isaac. This is my friend, Tish. Tish, this is Ian and Isaac.”

  She reaches her hand out to both of them.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet the two of you.”

  She bats her eyelashes. I fight a giggle. Another woman swept away by Ian’s charm and devastating looks.

  “Um, Ian, would you two like to have a seat?” I ask.

  “Of course. Isaac, you want to grab us a couple of beers?”

  “Sure, do you ladies need anything?”

  “I think we’ve had enough. Don’t you, Tish?” I ask with a giggle.

  “Yes. I’m already not sure how I’ll get home.” She bats those lashes at Isaac, and I wish I’d gotten to tell her earlier that he’s taken.

  Ian nuzzles his nose against my neck, planting a lingering kiss. His hand slides up my thigh, and I feel my pulse soar.

  I turn my head and gaze into those smoldering green eyes that tell everything. They introduced me to Brynlee the woman. An inner goddess awakened from a single look.

  “Wow. If it gets any hotter in this booth, I’m going to combust,” Tish says, and I see her fanning herself in my peripheral vision. I feel my cheeks warm before a wicked grin shows on that handsome face once again.

  Isaac returns, breaking up our spine-tingling moment. He hands Ian his beer and hesitates before sitting in the booth next to Tish.

  “I didn’t mean to disrupt your evening out with your brother,” I say.

  “Don’t tell him, but I enjoy hanging out with you more,” he says, of course, loud enough for Isaac to hear.

  “You’re funny, man.”

  “So, Isaac, what do you do?” Tish asks.

  “I’m an attorney. Ian and I both work with our father at his firm.”

  “And what do you do exciting?” he asks her back.

  “I’m a beautician. I help make people look beautiful. Except for Bryn here. She needs no help with that.”

  “I have to agree with you there,” he says, glancing to me.

  OK, maybe the charm does runs in the family.

  “Isaac’s engaged. He’s getting married in the fall,” Ian says, looking at Tish.

  “Ahh, she’s a lucky woman. You’re handsome,” Tish says, running her hand down his arm.

  Isaac gives Ian a look that I think means “get me the hell out of here,” so I begin laughing again.

  After talking a bit, Ian peers down at me.
r />   “I think it’s time to get you home before all of us drink too much to drive.”

  “You’re probably right,” I say.

  “Isaac, can we give the ladies a ride home?”

  “Sure.” Ian takes a long swig of his beer and gets up. We drop Tish off first. She gets out of the car and waves.

  “Bye-bye, Isaac and yummy croissant.”

  “Did she just call me a croissant?” Ian asks, sounding puzzled.

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t make any sense when she drinks.” Is he ever the buttery part of a Drewin.

  “Hang tight. I’m going to walk her up,” Ian says to Isaac after we make it to my apartment. He has to help me to the door, and I’m leaning on him a lot.

  “Mmm, you smell delectable,” I say, my face against his neck as he balances me.

  “You better stop, Brynlee, unless you want me spending the night. Give me your keys.”

  Ian sounds frustrated as he swipes them from my hand. He opens the door, and once inside, I’m backed against the wall next to it. My hands are pinned above my head by one of his, and he pushes his tongue into my mouth, tangling it with mine.

  I sigh against his lips, wishing badly that he could take me to bed. His free hand slides up the side of my shirt, his thumb circling my nipple through my top. He lets my mouth go and sucks on my neck.

  “Fuck, Brynlee, you’re killing me with the flirting and giggling. It has me majorly turned on.” He swirls his tongue along the soft spot behind my ear, and I feel his hard-on pressing against me.

  “How do I leave you?” he asks with a whisper.

  “I’m sorry we called.”

  “I’m not. I’ll take what I can get.” He lets my wrists go from above my head and cups my face, giving me a short kiss.

  “Please don’t leave this apartment tonight, and don’t let anyone in. You’re too drunk, and text me in the morning, so I know you’re OK.” He leans his mouth against my ear.

  “I love you, Brynlee. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  He lets me go, so I move away from the door, and he leaves without looking back.

  I’m breathless as I skim my fingers along my lips. We’ll combust if we don’t have sex soon. What the hell have I got myself into?

  Drew

  Brynlee texted me last night to let me know she’d made it home, but her garbled message clued me in that she’d been drinking.

  I have a feeling she’ll need a coffee, so I grab her one and knock on her door at eleven. I pound on it a few times, and I’m about to get my key out when she opens it. “Did I wake you up?”

  “What time is it?” Even with her messy updo, she looks sexy in her pink pajama pants that are covered in hearts and her snug, red tank top. She doesn’t have a bra on, and I’m trying not to look.

  “It’s eleven.” I hold the coffee out to her. “I had a feeling you’d need this.”

  “Why did you think that?”

  “Your text last night that made no sense at all gave it away. You called me a donut.”

  She blushes and grins. Now she looks even more damn adorable.

  “Um, sorry. I had too much to drink with Tish.”

  “How’d you get home if you were both drinking? Tell me you didn’t take the streetcar drunk.” I say, alarmed.

  She turns around and tracks away, looking guilty as ever.

  “Bryn, were you out with Ian?” I ask calmly, not feeling calm whatsoever.

  She sighs and turns around.

  “I didn’t go out with him, but after Tish had a lot to drink, she called him on my phone, just being silly. He became worried when he realized how drunk we were, so he and Isaac picked us up, but he dropped me off and left.”

  “Oh.” I can’t get upset with her for that, but this is exactly why I don’t care for Tish. It never fails, when Bryn goes out with her, she ends up drunk.

  “Let me shower,” she says, taking a couple of pain reliever before she leaves the room with her coffee.

  ***

  “Do you have a headache?” I ask her as we park at the bookstore.

  “No, why?”

  “I saw you take pain medicine.”

  “It was for my back. It’s been really hurting lately.”

  “Bryn, I’m worried about you working so hard and so much. You’re too young to have a messed up back. You need to hire help.”

  “I can’t afford it quite yet.”

  “Listen, tonight I want to take you to dinner some place nice.”

  “You don’t have to do that. We always have great dates.”

  “Please, Bryn. I should’ve done it before now.” I take her hand and squeeze it as we walk into Powell’s.

  She squeezes back. “Alright.”

  “Which section, sweetheart?”

  “Um, baking.”

  “Seriously? Are you not getting enough every day?” We stroll the path I’ve been down countless times. “What are you looking for?”

  “Foreign baking books. I need to try some new recipes.”

  “I’ll happily help you find them and sample every one you make.” I lift her fingers and kiss them.

  “Here, this one,” she says, handing me a French book as soon as we hit the right aisle. “Find something that sounds yummy in here.”

  “French confections. I need to see what Webster has to say about this.”

  She puts her hand on her hip and cocks her head as I whip out my phone.

  “Really, again?” she asks.

  “‘Confection: a very sweet dish. Also, a fancy dish or sweetmeat.’ Sweetmeat. That sounds dirty. We should buy this book along with the one about the sex contortionists and get creative. Hell, we might even come up with a new word for the dictionary.”

  “Drew!”

  I yank her body to me and kiss her quickly but hard.

  “Don’t try acting prudish now. I already know that’s not true, and once you’re all mine, I’m going to see how far from prudish I can take you.”

  She turns red and lays her head against my shoulder. “I’m getting turned on so stop it.”

  I have to chuckle. “You’re precious, Bryn. Listen, I’m thinking I could help you more at work.”

  She lifts her head, and I can tell her wheels are turning. It’ll be a miracle if she goes for this.

  Friendly Reminders

  Brynlee

  “Um, what do you mean?”

  “I could work for you some until you can afford to hire someone else.”

  I shake my head briskly. “No, you can’t do that. You do enough, and you have to run the shop.”

  “I can spare a few hours here and there. Besides, I’ll take time with you any chance I get.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Drew, and I should be calling you sweetheart. You’re thoughtful.” I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his, smelling his clean scent and tasting chocolate on his mouth from his coffee. He’s always liked the sugary ones.

  “Um, let’s get a few of these books and go to the park. I can make out with you better there,” he says before he kisses my temple. I feel him smile against it, and it warms me from the inside out. Drew is safe and comforting but still gets my pulse going.

  He insists on buying my books and assures me that I’ll be repaying him in baked goods and kisses. We grab our usual deli sandwiches and drive to the park.

  He spreads the blanket out, but instead of sitting across, I sit next to him under the tree and rest my head against his shoulder while we eat.

  “You so need a pair of those slick shorts, Drew.” I point to a male runner with long, skinny legs. He’s wearing the shortest pair of silky shorts.

  “I’ll buy you some tomorrow, and I’ll come with you when you wear them, except I’ll run about a quarter mile ahead of you,” I say, giggling.

  In a matter of seconds, I’m flat on my back, and Drew’s on top of me. “Get that damn image out of your head right now, young lady.”

  “No, it’s a pretty funny picture. I’ll get you lime gre
en instead of the bright orange pair he’s wearing. Oh, and let’s not forget the matching headband.”

  Drew begins tickling my waist with one hand while he holds himself up with the other. I squirm and squirm, trying to get out from under him, but he’s not budging.

  “Stop raking your pelvis against me, and I’ll let you go,” he says, now looking frustrated.

  I stop moving. His heated eyes stare back at me, but I sense his mind is only focused on the body lying underneath him.

  “God, I want you, Brynlee.”

  I hold my finger up by my shoulder and point downward, looking toward his shorts.

  “You might want to get that under control before you put on those sexy shorts. I don’t think it’ll fit in them when it’s at attention.” I laugh hard, already unable to breathe, but it becomes even more difficult when he tickles me again.

  “You are in a world of trouble, and stop picturing me in those damn shorts.”

  “Hey there, are you OK miss?”

  I hear the voice and look over. The man in the bright orange shorts is standing only twenty feet or so from us. Drew looks up but swiftly looks back at me with wide eyes.

  “Yes. I’m with him.” I fold my lips in and concentrate hard on not laughing.

  “OK, I wanted to be sure he wasn’t hurting you there. Sorry to interrupt.”

  Drew’s eyes never leave mine, and I know it’s because he’ll laugh.

  “Thank you. You’re a kind man to risk your own safety to check on me.” I bat my eyelashes at him, getting myself into more trouble with Drew.

  “I like the color of your shorts. It’s smart out here. The bikers ride kinda crazy. At least this way they won’t run you over.”

  “I know, right?” he asks. He has his hands on his hips and is walking in a circle, still breathless from his run.

  “Well, thanks again.” I bat my lashes a few more times for dramatic effect.

  “No problem. I’ll leave you two alone now.” He takes off running, and I burst into a fit of laughter.

  Drew’s cackling on top of me, so we’re basically bouncing on the blanket, and it’s starting to feel like we’re doing something inappropriate. I’m sure we look like it, too.

 

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