by Annie Hughes
“Only three?”
“Yeah. I mean, when I first met you I actually thought you were alright. You didn’t talk to me much but then you weren’t an asshole to me either. Plus, you helped Dyl with all that Vanessa crap.” He chuckles and I can’t stop the small smile forming on my lips at the memory.
Dylan managed to get himself a stalker in college, Vanessa Cane. She was a freshman, like me, and followed him around everywhere. It got a little crazy with her when she started breaking into his dorm. Roman had practically pushed her onto one of the football guys he knew who was just as ‘full on’. The last I heard of them, they were getting married.
“Then everything changed,” I continue. I finally pull my eyes away from him, unable to keep form staring at the obvious regret flashing in his eyes. “After you went to jail, things got crazy. Dylan and I managed to get away from it all, but then Charles got sick so he had to come back. That’s when I started hating you, I guess. If you hadn’t have pulled all that crap with me, you never would have gone to jail, and then you would have taken over for Charles.”
“But why did you come back with him? I thought you hated all this, this town,” he says.
I laugh. “For Dylan.”
He nods slowly, an unrecognizable expression gracing his face briefly before a mask of indifference takes over. This is the Roman I know. The only person I’ve ever met that I couldn’t read. He’s so different to Dylan in that way. One look, and I know every thought going through my boyfriend’s head. But Roman? Not a single one.
“So, now you don’t hate me?”
I smirk, amused, and strangely impressed that he’d ask that. “No. Now I don’t hate you. It doesn’t mean I like you, though.”
His face falls a little.
“But I can try and be civil with you, for the sake of Dylan and the family.”
“I know you won’t get over it, but I’m determined to make this right.” He smirks, and I see a hint of the old Roman in his eyes. The Roman I liked before he went crazy. The guy that made me laugh when I was sad, took me for ice cream when Dylan was busy, and dried my hair once when I hurt my wrist. Dylan is wrong thinking I didn’t know him before all the drama. I knew him better than most. I focus back on him as he speaks again. “I swear, you’ll be my best friend one day, Ray.”
My eyebrow arches. “Don’t count on it. I’m a champion at holding grudges, and I can kick your ass now, remember that.”
Now he laughs fully. “I don’t doubt that.”
I nod, smiling a little, then stand and move to the door. Rome’s voice stops me.
“Rayleigh.”
I turn to face him, his expression clouded with something a lot like guilt, or regret.
“What happened to you?”
Interesting question. I smile tightly.
“I became a Wade.”
I don’t wait for him to respond, I leave the back room and head into the bar. The people in there fall silent as I make my way over to Dylan in the corner booth with Kade. I’m used to this treatment now. The town treats me like royalty, which is more than a little annoying. I just want a simple life, but nothing is simple in Parkington.
“You look like shit, Kade,” I say, as I approach.
He laughs. “Thanks, kid. Anyone ever told you that you’re too honest for your own good?” He glances over my shoulder. “I see Rome’s still breathing?”
“Uh huh.” I look at Dyl and smile small. He mirrors it and I hold my hand out to him, ignoring Roman returning. When he takes it I pull him up and turn to Kade. “Sorry Pal, I gotta borrow Dylan. For the day.”
“Uh, babe, I’m supposed to be going to see McDowell with Kade. He can’t go on his own,” Dylan frowns.
Don’t scream. Don’t get mad. Remember you love him. I recite the mantra I’ve used more than I care to admit as I groan inwardly.
“I got it.” We all turn and stare at Roman in tandem, which causes him to laugh. “What? I can go and haul some ass to Harley Hill. Kade and I can catch up.”
“Thanks man,” Dylan smiles, then slips his arms around my shoulder.
“Yeah, no worries. Come on Kade, you can fill me in on the way with everything else that needs doing today. Our boy needs the day off.”
I mouth a silent thank you in Roman’s direction then drag Dylan from the bar. I pull him up the stairs and into our bedroom, pushing the door shut behind us. He eyes me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
“I talked to your friend.” I kick off my boots. “And I’m going to play nice, promise.” I shrug out of my jeans and let them fall to the floor. “We’ve been fighting for weeks and I’ve missed you.” I pull off my shirt and toss it to the ground, smirking when I see his eyes widen on my chest. “Dylan, I need you,” I whisper.
His mouth is on me in seconds, and inside, my libido screams with relief. We hadn’t been together like this in too long, the business or our fighting getting in the way. My body is craving for him, for his touch, desperate to feel what only he has ever made me feel.
“I just need you today, just one day of us,” I say against his lips. “Can you give me that? Please?”
His hands roam down my body, cupping my ass cheeks and lifting me up. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to our bed and places me down on my back. He pulls off his shirt and positions his body over mine, leaning in close and placing soft kisses up my neck.
“Rayleigh, I’ll give you whatever you want,” he whispers, my skin tingling from the contact.
He presses into me, his erection pushing against my core sending heat shooting through my body. I push him back, reversing our positions so I’m straddling him and sit up. He watches me, eyes filled with untamed desire, as I begin to remove my bra slowly. His hands grip my hips tighter as I let the lacy fabric fall, freeing my breasts. His cell begins to ring from across the room and I hit him with a warning stare as he begins to sit up.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he says then rolls me off of him and leans over the bed to get it from the cabinet. “It’s Uncle Craig. I’m just gonna tell him to call Rome today, and then I’m all yours.”
I frown slightly, then get an idea for payback. The thought has heat bubbling in my lower stomach as I scoot back on the bed and sit up against the headboard. Dylan watches me as he answers the call.
“Hey, Craig.”
I bring my finger into my mouth and suck it slowly. His eyes widen. Good. He knows what I’m doing.
“Yeah, I’m home but I’m with Rayleigh today. Talk to Roman,” he continues then swallows audibly when I begin to run my now damp finger down my body. I circle my nipple and bite my lip, keeping my eyes firmly on him.
“Uh huh,” he says into the cell.
I move lower, and then moan really quietly as I brush lightly over my clit. Dylan clears his throat and I smile inside as I watch his chest begin to rise and fall heavily. Dylan loves this, watching me touch myself. We’ve experimented sexually a lot over the years, trying different things, but we always came back to this.
“Craig just call Roman, I have to go. Rayleigh is waiting for me.”
He moves closer to me on the bed, but I use my foot to push him back gently and shake my head, indicating to his cell. He pulls it from his ear and looks at it accusatory before groaning down the phone.
“Nothing. He’s fine, you know he is. Shit, he’s your son and Kade is with him anyway.”
I rub at my clit more firmly now, enjoying the feel of my own arousal. Dyl stands from the bed and begins to pace. I watch him, the sight of his butt moving beneath his jeans only turning me on more. Dyl is hot, he always has been. He doesn’t work out as much as he used to, but his body is still a beautiful sight. He turns to look at me, hunger darkening his eyes. I push my finger inside myself, my back arching.
“Fuck! Craig, I’m going. Call Roman.”
I hear his phone hit the floor, followed by the sound of his jeans doing the same. His body is on top of me in seconds, his teeth gra
zing at my ear as I bring my arms around his neck, needing him closer.
“You’re a very bad girl, Miss Stevens,” he growls.
My libido sings. “I’m your bad girl, Mr Wade,” I whisper back.
A low moan escapes from the back of his throat and I wrap my legs tighter around him.
“I need you,” I say, my voice coming in pants. “I need you now.”
He smiles against my neck before positioning himself at my opening. Our eyes lock, all of our feelings for each other swimming in our gaze and latching on to each other. He mouths ‘I love you’ then pushes into me.
Finally.
Roman Wade
"I totally forgot. I have to deal with something tonight. You understand, right?"
I watch as Rayleigh's shoulders deflate from Dylan's words, then resist the urge to pull her close to me and comfort her. This isn't the first time I've seen him let her down, hell it isn't even the first time this week. I don't know what has happened in the time I've been gone, but his world no longer starts and ends with her. That much is obvious. Charles isn't getting any better, which means Dylan is getting in deeper and deeper with the family business. Rayleigh is struggling, anyone can see that, except Dylan apparently. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend spends most of her nights alone, drinking copious amounts of wine, and declaring war on the fictional characters she watches on TV. She is so far from the quiet girl on campus, it's almost scary. I worry about her constantly, which is stupid because she hates my damn guts, but every cell in my body is screaming at me to make things right and be there for her.
"Yeah," she replies softly. "I understand. I'll cancel the reservation. Don't worry about it."
He presses a chaste kiss to her head, offers me a silent salute, then leaves the apartment. He's not even going to apologize? Rayleigh lets out a heavy sigh, then drops onto the couch. I stroll into the kitchen as she pulls her cell from her pocket, giving her the privacy she obviously needs, and myself the time to calm the hell down. I heard her talking with Leigh about the anniversary dinner that she had planned earlier this week. She sounded so excited, and as much as it tore me up inside, I was happy for them. I can't believe he'd just ditch her like that, when he knows I'd more than happily go in his place, wherever the hell that is.
There's been a dramatic change of pace since Rayleigh and me had our little talk. I wouldn't say we're friendly, as such, but she no longer looks at me like she's about to rip my head off. Plus, and this is a big improvement, I haven't had her gun pressed into my temple recently. Always a good sign. We are generally civil, but I still avoid her most of the time. Not just for her, but for my own sanity, too. It’s hard to think around her, and with how tightly wound Dylan is lately, I need all my brain cells perfect working order. I need to be ready to pick up the shit he's likely to drop soon. Bringing my focus back to the present, I pour out two cups of coffee and re-enter the lounge, placing one of the drinks on the table in front of Rayleigh as she finishes up her call.
"Thanks," she mutters, bringing her feet to rest on the edge of the table. "I'm heading to the store for groceries soon, do you need anything?"
"Protein bars, but that's okay I can get them."
She stands. "There's no point in us both going." Collecting the coffee from the table, she heads out the room. "Text me which ones you want. I'm just gonna grab a shower before I head out."
"Kay," I call to her, then slump down on the recently vacated couch.
That's about as in depth as our conversations get. Trivial bullshit. The safe, inconsequential crap that means absolutely nothing and, more importantly, reveals absolutely nothing. God forbid we say something we actually mean. "Why the fuck are you letting him treat you like that, Ray" or "I really want to put my penis inside you, Ray" probably isn't appropriate. Yeah, definitely not. So instead we continue our little charade, where she pretends not to hate me, and I pretend her obvious unhappiness doesn't make me want to punch something. Or someone.
I wait until I hear her leaving before I text her about protein bars. Yeah, I'm that much of a pussy. She responds almost immediately.
Rayleigh - Sure thing. Are you with Dylan tonight, or do you want dinner?
Is she offering to make me dinner? No. Shut up, idiot. She probably just needs to know how much shit to buy or whatever. It's all part of the bullshit production that is our current non-relationship.
Me - I'll be home. I think he's with Kade.
And didn't that make me feel fan-fucking-tastic? Really excellent. Honest. I just love how I've been replaced by the same asshole that screwed me back in college. It's the perfect irony really, and I probably deserve it. It doesn't make me feel any better about the whole thing though. My cells beeps again, signaling another message.
Rayleigh - Figured as much. You eat pasta, right?
Me - Yeah, pasta works. You don't have to feed me, you know.
Rayleigh - I'm making it anyway, no point in you starving. Catch you later.
It looks like I'll be eating dinner with Rayleigh tonight, on her five year anniversary with Dylan, whilst he's out doing fuck knows what. That's not weird at all. Nope. Not at all.
***
I grip my cell harder, trying to dissolve my rage. I've been back here three weeks and he's still not telling me anything. I'm inner circle. I'm supposed to know this shit. Goddamn it. I'm beginning to get tired of this shit. I know I fucked up, but it's time the world moved on. I force myself to tune back into my dad's voice.
"I know this is frustrating, son, but you have to understand the difficult position Dylan is in right now. He's dealing with a lot of shit, and he still doesn't trust you." A long breath blows down the cell. "I'm not sure how long Charles has left, and when he dies, your cousin is going to need all the support he can get."
"But I'm here now, to support him, and he's still using that fuckwit Kade instead. He shouldn't even know half the shit he does, and he's hearing it before me. The shit with Joey in Harley Hill is my deal, and he's screwed me out of it. I mean, I get it Pops. I know I have no right after everything that went down, but shit... I should at least know what the score is."
"I agree, and it's something I plan to bring up at the next family meeting."
Right. Great. Another family meeting. Because they're super helpful. After a strained goodbye, I hang up the call and focus my attention back on my brothers. We've been sat around a table at the back of the bar for the past hour, practically collapsing after our intense gym session. Luckily for me, there was nothing to do in prison except work out so my ass could handle it, but Lenny and Jack are both pretty out of shape having spent the last four years goofing off. Dumbasses. However, it seems they are the only ones keeping me in the loop on family business these days, so I gotta love the pair of fuckers.
"What did Pops have to say?" Lenny asks. "Is he gonna jump down from his cloud anytime soon and haul ass?"
I snort a laugh. "He's planning to discuss it at our next family meeting."
Jack's eyes roll in my direction before he puts his attention back on the blonde at the bar. He's always been the same. More interested in getting his dick wet than lining his pockets. Lenny's the same, only slightly more clued in. Together, they almost make a fully functioning human being. Almost. At least I know they both have my back on this. Apparently, they're pretty pissed at Dyl about all this too. Plus, they agree on my description of Kade Walters - complete fuckwit of epic proportions. It's a start.
"You gonna come out with us tonight, bro?"
I turn to face Lenny, whose eyebrows are wiggling. Jesus. A night out with these two means crawling home at 4am, at least three fist fights, and a broken bone to memorialize the fucked up occasion. Nights with my brothers are never simple. Besides, I have dinner plans tonight. And she's currently at the bar with her best friend, laughing. Her black hair is swept up in some crazy pile on top of her head, her hand clutching her stomach, as she all but howls her laughter. I watch her silently, sipping at my soda.
It’s good to see her like this, really good. Then again, Leigh always could bring the smile back to her face. For a psychotic chick, she sure is funny. Not that I ever saw the funny side of the Scottish girl. Definitely not. I’m enemy number one, always have been really. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little afraid of her. Rayleigh brings her foot up on the stool and leans her face on her bent knee. She looks good today, dressed in jean shorts and an oversized basketball vest. Everyone in here has checked her out, not that she notices. She's always been the same, never realizing how hot she actually is. Most girls in her position, pretty and shacked up with a Wade, would be flaunting their ass all over town. Not her. She's quiet, keeps herself secured in a vault. The problem with locking all your shit up that tight is eventually that tough exterior cracks, the bolts burst, and everything you desperately want to keep inside is unleashed all over the place. I know personally just how explosive that can be. I know how quickly your capacity to keep it all in can disintegrate into nothing, and I know how much of a relief it is to get it all out no matter who it hurts in the process.
"Can't tonight," I reply, finally. "I got more important shit to do."
Rayleigh Stevens
Leigh's disapproving stare bores into the side of my face as I add the tomatoes into the pasta. I totally understand her point, but it really isn't worth rocking the boat any more than necessary. Dylan and I aren't in the best place for an all-out brawl right now, even if he is holding the number one spot on my ever growing Asshole List. Speaking of assholes, why am I cooking for Roman Wade? I mean, what? I was still upset with Dyl when I sent that text about dinner, but spending my anniversary with a guy I hate is surely not appropriate. Then again, the guy I should be spending it with would rather spend it with Kade. I begin to stir the pasta sauce more aggressively than a normal person should. I know the family is important, and Charles is really sick right now, but what the hell? I used to be a damn priority to him, and now it’s as though he doesn’t give a crap. Everything we went through in college, everything we fought through just to be together, means nothing. The family bullshit I deal with on a daily basis is hard enough, but knowing he’s drifting away from me hurts like nothing else. And I have no idea what to do about it.
