100 PROOF

by Shanora Williams

  Lloyd choked on a laugh, stepping sideways and swiping a finger over the crease between his eyebrows. “Are you kidding me? If Vin isn’t the center of attention, no one wins. This wedding will be about me, and he’ll hate it. He won’t be getting his ass kissed by Mom and he’ll notice. He might end up pulling some dumb, drunk stunt just so Mom can focus on him again. Doesn’t matter if it’s in a bad way, just as long as she’s paying attention to him.” He straightened the collar of his suit jacket. “It’s what he does best.”

  I narrowed my brows a bit when he turned to fetch his ringing cellphone. I couldn’t tell if he was lying about Vin. Vin was the last person to ever really want attention. Did he do dumb things? Yes, but it was never for the attention.

  He did dumb things, mostly just for fun, but sometimes because he couldn’t get a grip on reality and would do anything to distract himself from it. He tried to stop, I remember. He would put forth so much effort, but then something would kill his mood and he’d sink, drowning himself in whatever bottle of liquor he could find.

  “Shit,” Lloyd cursed beneath his breath a minute later. He walked back out of the bathroom, stepping up beside me in front of the vanity.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “That was work calling. The pilot for flight 463 got into a car accident and has a broken arm. They need me to fill in for him since I’m the only other one here in Texas.”

  “Oh.” I looked down, capping my lipstick. “What time do you have to go?”

  “Now.” He gave me an uneasy smile.

  “Now? Seriously? But what about breakfast?”

  He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less, loosening his tie. “Cancel it.” He hurried for the closet, pulling down one of his dry-cleaned uniforms. “Work is more important.”

  “What about the fitting for your tuxedos? Isn’t that this afternoon?”

  “I’ll cancel that too, and just have Mom reschedule.” His eyebrows dipped as he looked over at me, taking off his jacket. “What’s the big deal? Vincent will understand. I’m sure he doesn’t care about coming to breakfast anyway.”

  I nodded quickly. I didn’t want my concern to seem too obvious. I couldn’t ignore the feeling I had inside though—the guilt. We couldn’t just not show up. He’d already flown all this way. It would have been like he traveled here for nothing.

  Lloyd got dressed in a matter of seconds. It was amazing how quickly he could get dressed for work, like his job was the most important thing in his life, but when it came to doing things together or going for a night out, he would drag his feet and complain about it the entire time.

  “It’s a quick flight to Virginia. I’ll be back before you know it.” He picked up his already packed duffle bag. He always had a bag packed for work, just in case something like this happened and he had to fill in. And trust me, it happened more times than I could count. “I’ll call my Mom and let her know we need to reschedule the fittings. You should let Vincent know breakfast isn’t going to happen now before he assumes we’ve bailed on him and tries to throw a hissy fit.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “Okay. Sounds good.” I forced a smile.

  He gave me a swift kiss on the lips and then picked up his ringing cellphone. I followed him out of the bedroom and down the marble staircase. When he met at the door and opened it, he said, “I love you. Call you when I land.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Love you, too.”

  He was out the door before I could even blink. I watched him jump into his car and pull off, tossing me a quick wave before he drove away.

  I shut the door, exasperated. I stepped in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the hallway, observing myself. I was fully dressed, in my heels and everything.

  Breakfast was supposed to be happening in less than thirty minutes. I couldn’t bail on Vin. He would have taken it personally. I figured filling him in in person would be okay.

  I wouldn’t even eat with him. I’d let him know what was going on and tell him he should schedule a flight back home as soon as he wanted to.

  I collected my keys and my clutch before I could process my thoughts, but as I climbed into my car and started it up, driving away from our two-story brick home, I realized I wasn’t doing this for Vin’s benefit.

  I was doing it for mine.

  I wanted to see him again.

  I wanted to know what was really going on with him.

  I wanted updates on him and Zay. About California, period. I wanted to see if he’d changed at all—or if he was just giving the impression of it to try and win me over again. Not that he could, but he would try.

  I knew this was stupid. I should have cancelled, like Lloyd said. By going to meet him—alone—I was asking for something to happen. I was secretly hoping to feel a connection again, but in the heat of the moment, I wasn’t exactly sure what that something was.

  I drove with racing thoughts, wondering what I’d say—what I’d do. Do I hug him when I first see him? Do I shake his hand and pretend to be formal? Do I treat him like my future brother-in-law or as my former love?

  I had no clue, but, still, I didn’t stop. I kept going until I was pulling into the parking lot of the busy restaurant and parking the car.

  I didn’t fully breathe as I climbed out, didn’t stop moving as I walked towards the entrance. I didn’t fill my lungs with air until I saw him standing in the waiting area, wearing a navy blue T-shirt that clung to his firm upper body, dark wash jeans sitting low and snug on his hips, and his hair a beautiful, chaotic mess. The veins bulged on his arms, the very ones I used to have no problem tracing with the tip of my tongue.

  My pulse roared.

  And then it hit me.

  This was exactly what I wanted to feel.

  The electricity between us—the fire that could torch anything that stood in its way. I wanted to witness his smoldering eyes drinking me in, like I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Lloyd had never given me this look. He had never stared for so long, like he would tear my clothes off right where we stood, no matter who was watching.

  My throat tightened.

  My core clenched.

  But I pretended none of it was happening to me as I walked forward to meet him.

  “Hey.” He flashed a crooked smile, still ogling. His eyes shifted to the left, towards the door, like he was looking for someone.

  “Lloyd won’t be joining us,” I said before he could ask. “He got called to fill in for a flight, unfortunately.”

  “You consider that unfortunate?” he teased.

  I somewhat ignored that statement. “He also wanted me to tell you that getting fitted for tuxedos is cancelled for now. He probably won’t be back until tomorrow.” I shifted on my heels. He smelled like the ocean and spice. He smelled good. Always smelled so good. “We know you probably want to get back, so if you want to schedule your flight, you should. I just thought I’d let you know.”

  “That’s it?” he probed, head going into a slight tilt.

  “Yep,” I said with a pop of the lips.

  He fought a smile, gesturing towards the dining area. “Well, should we go eat then?”

  “I—no, Vin. We shouldn’t. I just came to let you know what was happening. I should get going.”

  He raised a brow. “So, you’re telling me you drove all this way just to let me know plans are cancelled? You could have just called, saved yourself the drive. Isn’t that what cellphones are for?”

  I felt heat creep to my cheeks. “It was the respectful thing to do.”

  “Since when do you give a damn about respecting my feelings?” he laughed. “The old Marley would have called and left it at that.”

  “I’m not the old Marley anymore.”

  He looked at me sideways. “Well, then, let me get to know the new Marley.”

  I looked towards the full restaurant and then over at him again.

  “Come on,” he insisted. “An hour tops. That’s it.” His bright eyes sparkled, like this was t
he only thing he wanted in this moment—like he’d kill to have this one breakfast with me.

  I looked towards the hostess, still hesitant. The restaurant was busy, so busy that I was sure we blended right into the mix.

  I looked at him again, holding up a finger. “One hour. That’s it.”

  A smile graced his sculpted lips and then he walked past me, going for the hostess. He requested a table for two, and it was a twenty-minute wait.

  During the wait, I could feel him looking at me. I could still smell him. I could feel his body heat radiating towards me, mingling with my anxious energy. I avoided his eyes intentionally, surprised he wasn’t saying anything.

  He was just looking.

  Watching.

  I kind of hated it. It was like he could see right through me.

  We were finally called and seated. It was quiet between us for a minute before Vin finally exhaled and placed his palms flat on the table. “All right, Marley. Look. This shit isn’t going to work for me.”

  I frowned, meeting his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “This. Pretending we don’t know each other. I fucking hate it.”

  “No one said you had to pretend.” I sat back in my chair.

  “Oh, I’m not. It’s you. Let’s not act like this. Not while we’re alone.”

  I lowered my gaze to the menu.

  “Marley?” he called, voice gentle.

  I struggled to keep my eyes down.

  “Marlenaaaa,” he sang, and my heart danced, pounding against my rib cage.

  I finally caved, picking my head up, pretending his familiar, playful, sing-song voice didn’t faze me or make my heart go wild. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you?” I fought a smile.

  “I’m still me . . . with minor tweaks.” He put on a confident grin.

  I nodded. “Okay. While it’s just us, I won’t pretend. But that doesn’t mean you should get too comfortable. I guess for you to accept what’s happening, I should be myself as much as possible.”

  His face went blank, eyes sharp. “Oh, I’m never going to accept this.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “I don’t? Says who?” he challenged, that crooked smile appearing again.

  I sucked in a breath. “Don’t start, Vin. Please.”

  He held his hands in the air. “Okay—okay. Fine. I won’t. We’ll just talk. Catch up. How’s that sound?”

  I grabbed my menu again. “Sounds good to me.”

  The waiter appeared, introducing himself and then asking for our drinks. I decided to go for a mimosa, hoping it would tame my nerves. Vin ordered a flavored sparkling water, which truly surprised me.

  “What? No mimosa or morning whiskey for you?” I asked when the waiter took off to the bar.

  He shrugged. “I don’t drink anymore.”

  “At all?” I asked.

  “Nope. And you should be glad. A drunk me would have ruined everything for you by now.”

  I pressed my lips, scanning the menu again.

  “I’m trying to improve,” he told me, and my eyes shifted up. “I haven’t had a sip since being released. I had this non-alcoholic beer once, at a party. It was some shit pregnant women drink when they crave alcohol. It was fucking gross,” he laughed, like he was remembering something. “My therapist said it was good I only had that one terrible drink and not a real one. Didn’t even finish it.”

  My eyebrows tilted. “You have a therapist?”

  “Had. I don’t go much anymore.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. “Well, that’s still good.”

  I met his eyes again and he smiled. “I’m glad to see you, Marley. I never thought I would again.”

  “The circumstances are terrible,” I joked, laughing a bit.

  “The circumstances don’t matter as long as I get to be around you.”

  My cheeks flushed. I tried hard not to fidget in my seat as I felt his hot gaze sweep over my body again. This had to have been the fifth or sixth time he’d done it since I arrived—looking me up and down, trying to read me while also enjoying the sight of me.

  I was so glad the waiter returned with our drinks and broke his lingering gaze. I took a rapid sip of my mimosa as Vin ordered the food he wanted.

  “So how is Zay?” I asked after ordering my meal.

  His face tightened somewhat, but not too much. “He’s good. Doing way better. Still trying to launch the club with me.”

  “Oh, really?” I grinned, pleased to hear that, but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. I was hoping he would elaborate, but by the solid look on his face, I knew he wasn’t going to. I switched gears to keep things light. “You guys are still going to do it? The club?”

  “Yep. There’s this place in Laguna, close to the beach. Perfect area,” he said, holding his hands in the air as if he could already picture it. “There’s an upstairs patio, a downstairs deck. The bar looks like it’s a mile long. It’s incredible. It needs some touching up, but it’s the perfect location. We’re working on trying to secure a lease now.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, my drink in hand. “That’s amazing.” I laughed a little and he smiled.

  “What?” He tilted his head.

  “Oh—nothing.” I waved a dismissive hand.

  “No. Tell me. What’s funny?” A smooth smile swept across his lips. Ugh. I couldn’t stand it. He always made me feel at ease, like I could open up to him and he would never judge me.

  “It’s nothing,” I laughed. “I was just . . . well, I remember the night you two were talking about opening a club. You were both so stoned so I thought you were just kidding. I’m surprised to see you’re actually going through with it now.”

  “Why? Because I’m a fuck-up?” he taunted.

  I shook my head. “No. Because you don’t usually commit to things this . . . big.” I narrowed my brows. “And you are not a fuck-up.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Please, Marley. It may have been a while since we last talked to each other, but that much hasn’t changed. I’ve always been a screw-up.”

  “Are you still?” I probed, placing my glass down.

  “I sure as shit hope not. Haven’t fucked up since rehab.” I winced a little, and he noticed. I started to speak, but he cut me off by saying, “It’s cool. Rehab helped.”

  I knew that wasn’t what he really wanted to say, and truthfully I didn’t want him to elaborate this time.

  “I’m glad that it did, Vinny. Really.” I put on a gentle smile.

  He returned one, grabbing his glass of sparkling water and sitting back in his chair, totally at ease. The conversation continued, a slow and steady build up between us. It wasn’t forced or dry or uncomfortable.

  I swear I almost forgot I was speaking to my ex. We talked more about his plans for the club, and how he was planning on moving out of his penthouse soon, but then he asked about something I wasn’t prepared for.

  “Do you still work for Redwire?” he asked, sticking a fork into his scrambled eggs.

  I was already eating a piece of sausage, but hearing his question made the swallow a little tougher. I picked up my mimosa and took a few sips before answering.

  “No.”

  He frowned a bit. “Why not?”

  “Lloyd wanted me to quit once we got engaged.” I avoided his eyes, but I was sure he was fully frowning now.

  “What the fuck?” he hissed. “Why?”

  I shrugged. “He said he didn’t want his future wife working—that he wanted me to take care of the home, handle the joint accounts, all of that.”

  “So he basically wants you to be his fucking slave?”

  “No,” I said, voice tight. “More like a housewife.”

  I looked up and his eyebrows were heavily stitched. “No, Marlena. More like a trophy wife. You were working out last night. You hate gym classes. You only took runs in the mornings.”

  “I still take them from time to time. He told me about that class, said he knew the guy through a friend, and sig
ned me up.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” I could tell he was getting angry now. He was clenching the handle of his fork, glaring at me like I’d done something wrong.

  “Yes, I’m serious. What the hell is your problem?” I snapped.

  “My problem?” He sat up with tense shoulders. “You’re letting him fucking control you. It’s like he’s taken over your life and turning you into his fucking pet.”

  “I am not his pet,” I said as evenly as possible. “In order for a relationship like ours to work, sacrifices have to be made.”

  “Oh yeah? Really, Marlena? Okay. Then tell me this.” He dropped his fork, sitting higher in his chair. “What sacrifices has he made for you? What the hell has he given up in order to make you completely happy?”

  My eyebrows drew together as I stared straight into his eyes. I wanted to be angry with him for even asking, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because . . . I had no answer.

  Lloyd hadn’t sacrificed anything for me. He still lived the same life . . . but he didn’t have to sacrifice anything. I was the one who needed him.

  “You can’t even answer me, can you?” Vin said with a light voice. “I know you can’t, because Lloyd fucking Harris doesn’t do sacrifices. It’s his way or the highway, and it’s always been like that. He has to feel like he owns you, otherwise you are useless to him.” His upper lip peeled back, clearly angry about this whole topic. “He gives you a closet full of nice, expensive clothes, a nice car, that diamond ring, and you feel grateful for it, but when he says jump, you have no choice but to ask how high, right? When he says run, you ask how fast. When he says, suck my cock, you drop to your fucking knees and get right to business, don’t you, Marlena?”

  Anger instantly bubbled in my veins and I pushed out of my chair, staring down at him. “Fuck you. You don’t know shit about what we have. You’re just jealous because I’m sucking his cock now instead of yours.”

  I turned before he could say anything else, dashing for the exit. He could pay for breakfast his damn self. I rushed through the parking lot with tears burning my eyes, pulling out my keys and unlocking the door.