Panic (The Flaw Series)

by Ringbloom, Ryan

  Patrick looks from me to Matthew, his jaw clenching as he gulps. “I love you guys,” he says to us.

  Oh, no. We’re doing this right now? Have the touching brother moment . . . in the bathroom?

  “You guys are both truly amazing. I’m so thankful and lucky to have you guys as my brothers, my family. I hope soon to be starting a family of my own and when I do, I pray it’s just like this one.”

  All the craziness and hype leading up to this day and it doesn’t really hit me until this moment. My brother is getting married. Tonight when he goes to sleep it will be next to his wife. He’ll be a husband now and I’m sure one day soon, he’ll be a father. Hopefully not too far off, these same things will be happening to me. Hard to believe we’re at the point in our lives where we’re ready for things like marriage and kids.

  “I love you, too.” I pull him in for a hug. Two more arms reach around us as Matthew joins in for a family hug. And the tears I just made fun of fill my own eyes.

  Breaking apart, we take a few deep, manly sniffs and get back to business. The photographer shows up. We race to finish getting ready; our ties are neatly knotted and yellow roses get pinned to our lapels by our mother. Then we line up for endless pictures, taking turns shaking Patrick’s hand before the limo arrives to bring us over to the hall.

  I’m the only one allowed into the little room where Ashley and Tessa are waiting. Tessa is busy straightening Ashley’s long veil, making sure it lies perfectly. Ashley is stunning. A mixture of white lace and beading that captures and reflects the light. Before I can say a word, she stops me. “Don’t you dare say anything that will make me cry, Kent.”

  I open my mouth and Tessa holds up her hand. “Warning — anything you say will make her cry.” Tessa shoots me a look. I nod my head and keep my mouth shut.

  The wedding planner informs us that Matthew has already escorted Ashley’s mother to her seat, then he snuck back to escort my mother down the aisle, as well.

  “This is it.” That’s all I say and Ashley’s eyes fill. I had planned to say something very heartfelt, but I guess this isn’t the right time.

  Ashley tilts her head back to keep tears from spilling down her perfectly done-up face as we take our places. Tessa and Ashley share a quick hug, then Ashley and I link arms. Tessa leans over and pinches Ashley, instructing her not to cry — at least not until she has successfully made it down the aisle. “Think of the pictures,” Tessa says firmly and then begins her own stroll down the aisle wearing a light pink gown and clutching a bouquet of yellow roses.

  The first few notes of the wedding march chime and Ashley clutches me tighter. She clings to my arm, marching at my side as I lead her down to my brother. Patrick stands proud, his eyes fixed on his bride. Ashley gives in to the tears but she smiles through them and her steps quicken, almost like she’s running towards the flower-filled alter where my brother waits.

  Tears stream down my brother’s face and during the vows, it’s hard to quite make out the words through Ashley’s deep gasping sobs as she promises to my love my brother forever. They kiss and cascades of bubbles enter the room from all angles. Since professional “bubble releasers” are a new trend at weddings, Ashley told me she had hired the best.

  The cocktail hour is spent taking more photos in every pose imaginable. The formal introductions by the DJ are made and I take my place on the dance floor. From across the room I spot Robin seated at our table. She sneaks a wave in my direction and blows me a kiss. I catch the imaginary kiss and she smiles. I’m glad she’s not alone at the table. She’s made fast friends with Tucker, Tessa’s fiancée, since the two of them were left alone for most of the day while Tessa and I attended to our bridal party duties.

  The new Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Daniels are introduced and after the wild applause quiets down, a slow love song blares through the room. Under the sparkling lights, Patrick and Ashley hold each other tightly, his cheek pressed against hers. A monogrammed spotlight with their initials swirls on the floor underneath them.

  I look over at the table where Robin is sitting. She looks beautiful. I can’t wait to go over and pull her into my arms to dance. This whole day, it’s been hard not to envision marrying the girl I love.

  My attention falls back on the bride and groom. Ashley pulls Patrick down and for those of us standing close, you can tell she is whispering something to him. He draws her in even closer, if that’s possible, lifting her feet off the floor. She has tears streaming down her face and he wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, lowering his lips to her ear to whisper something back that only makes her tears fall that much quicker.

  I’m only guessing here but something tells me the title of husband and father might be coming at the same time. If I’m right, that would definitely explain some of the extra craziness I’ve witnessed with Ashley lately.

  Everyone takes his or her seat, except for me and Matthew, who stay standing for the toast. Even though Matthew is giving it, I’ll be standing right behind him for support. He’s handed a microphone and his hand trembles as he takes it and brings it towards his mouth to speak.

  “Ashley, you look beautiful. I am so happy for you and Patrick.” His voice shakes and he looks back at me. I give him the ‘you’re doing great’ nod. He takes a breath and continues. “Everybody here probably knows the story that my brother Patrick fell in love with Ashley when he was only ten years old. But I met Ashley when I was only six years old. And we would play games and eat pizza and have so much fun. So, Patrick may have fallen in love with her when he was ten, but I have him beat, because I fell in love with her when I was six. Not in the same way as Patrick, of course, but I love Ashley like a sister. And today I am so happy to officially welcome her into our family and get to actually call her my sister.”

  Ashley is a puddle of tears. Tessa is behind her with a tissue, trying to save Ashley’s makeup as best she can, dabbing away discreetly at the runny mascara. My brother shoes Tessa away and pulls Ashley in under his arm, letting her wipe away the tears on his tuxedo jacket.

  “Can everyone please raise their glasses?” Matthew pauses while the champagne glasses are lifted. “To Patrick and Ashley, congratulations.”

  The traditional sips are taken, then Ashley and Patrick are up from the table, hugging Matthew and thanking him for his beautiful speech. I’m finally able to find my place at the table next to Robin. It’s the first chance I’ve had all day to talk with her.

  “Ashley didn’t sip her champagne,” she says, frowning. “After the toast, when we all sipped our champagne, Ashley didn’t.”

  “I, um, have no idea. I guess she was too choked up or something.” That was a strange greeting. Why would Robin even notice something as silly as that? Although, it does add to my theory about what Ashley whispered to Patrick while they were dancing.

  The music starts up. People begin drifting onto the dance floor. “Come dance with me.” I hold out my hand and pull Robin up from her seat.

  The soft blue silk of her dress slides under my touch as we sway to the music. This is the moment I’ve longed for all day, having Robin in my arms.

  “Your family is amazing. Matthew’s speech, you walking her down the aisle . . . she’s so lucky to be part of your family,” Robin says, almost in a daze with glassy eyes.

  Robin grew up across the street from us. She’s always been considered a part of our family. The way she’s saying it seems sad, like she’s an outsider looking in. Is it because Ashley became an official Daniels before she did? Once again I’m wishing we hadn’t missed so much time with each other. I’m sure we’d have been married by now if we hadn’t.

  “This will be us soon,” I say, looking down into her blue eyes.

  She stops dancing, turning her gaze over my shoulder, away from me. “It might not be, Kent.”

  “It will,” I assure her.

  The corners of her mouth lift. I can’t resist and bow down to kiss that beautiful smile. Her head rests on my shoulder and I hold her in m
y arms, confident that a day like this will be ours very soon.

  Robin

  By the time we make it back to Kent’s apartment after the wedding, it’s the wee hours of the morning and the sun is just beginning to rise. I trade my silk dress for comfy pajamas and cuddle up in his bed, pretending to be fast asleep by the time he slides in next to me.

  Early the next morning, I make sure I’m gone before he wakes up. I saw the look on his face yesterday, heard the comments he kept making. The extravagant wedding was like being swept up into a fairytale where everyone had moments of believing happily ever after did exist. A few times I even caught myself smiling over the possibilities. It was hard not to. Love was in the air, fancy dresses, bubbly cocktails, beautiful music, friends and family celebrating a romance almost fifteen years in the making. I knew the smartest thing I could do this morning was leave and put some distance between us. Let the magic wear off a bit before seeing him again.

  The cell phone in my purse rings. It’s been ringing all morning. I ignore it until I’m nestled on the couch in my apartment.

  “Hello,” I answer on what I think is his fifth attempt at trying to reach me.

  “Why are you not in this bed beside me?” His voice is groggy and I can visualize him still lying there with no shirt, tattoos exposed, tousled hair covering his deep brown eyes.

  “Yesterday was a long day. I’m giving you some time to recover.”

  “I planned on spending the day in bed recovering with you.”

  “I know, but I have work tomorrow and I have tons of laundry to catch up on.”

  “You left me for laundry?” He croaks out a chuckle.

  “I’m sorry but I need clean clothes and Lord knows I won’t find any in your apartment.”

  “When am I seeing you again? I can come down any time you want.”

  “How about I just come back up Friday and I can you see you play.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait that long. If I make it all the way till Friday, will you promise to at least spend the whole weekend here with me? No running away in the morning?”

  “All right, I will. I’ll spend the whole weekend and I’m sure you’ll be sick of me by Sunday and be ready to boot me back home,” I say, biting back a grin.

  “I highly doubt it.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “So, what are you wearing?”

  “Oh, my God, Kent, shut up.” I laugh, looking down at my faded jeans and bulky gray sweatshirt.

  “I’m dead serious. You left me here to stay in this bed all by myself, I think a brief description is the least you could do for my aching loins.”

  Aching loins. I have to laugh. This reminds me of high school, when we would get carried away with some of our texting. I was never good at it, but fortunately teenage boys get off pretty easily so I didn’t really need to be. I tug on my sweatshirt and play with the tear on the thigh of my jeans. “Well, I just got in so you know, I immediately stripped out of all my clothes so I could run around the apartment naked.” I cover my mouth to muffle another laugh. I’m obviously joking but he still lets out a turned-on moan.

  “All right.” I hear him struggle on the other side of the phone, a rustling sound in the background. “Now I’m naked, too.”

  “Stop it.” I’m a mess of blushes and giggles. “I am so not doing this right now.”

  “I think you are going to do it.” His voice is throaty and deep. He’s not fooling around. “I think you want to do it real bad. Remember the other night in your room, how good we made each other feel? The way I touched you, my hands sliding all over your body. Those sweet sounds you let out, making me want to lose control.”

  The urge to giggle stops, the silly pink blush turns to a heated flush spreading down my skin. I already had the sexy image of him in bed, the way I left him this morning. The image I have now causes me squirm, an ache of my own coming on. Phone sex, really? Another sexy groan sounds through my phone. Okay.

  “Go into your room, place the phone down, take off your clothes and climb under your covers. When you’re ready, pick the phone back up.”

  I was already half way to my room before he even suggested it. My clothes land on the floor and I slide swiftly under the covers, reaching for the phone. “All right, I’m in bed under the covers.”

  “Lift up the blankets and tell me what you see.”

  I cannot believe I’m doing this. This is crazy. Crazy, because I’m fully aroused. So, I guess if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this.

  I follow his instructions, doing what I’m told. A breeze flows over me as the blanket is lifted. “I’m freezing. My . . . ” I struggle for confidence to say the next word, “nipples are so tight and hard.”

  “That’s good. Now I want you to touch yourself using both hands. Run them over your breasts, and gently squeeze, rub your thumbs over your nipples and tell me how that feels.”

  All right, we are definitely not in high school anymore. I click the speaker on my phone. I need both hands to follow his instructions. My fingers slide up my stomach. I cup my breasts. My thumbs gently graze the taut pink center. The whimper and hitch in my breath imply my pleasure.

  “Do you know how hard I am right now?”

  I’m shocked at how turned on I am at hearing the raspy edge in his voice, knowing he’s naked in his bed, getting turned on as well. “Are you touching yourself, too?” I ask, letting my hand slide down lower.

  “I have been touching myself since the second you said the word ‘naked.’ Now I want you to put your hand . . . ”

  “It’s already there,” I say, easing my finger into the slickness. For a year I was so sure my body wasn’t capable of feeling this way. God, was I wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Kent, or maybe it has to do with the little patch of estrogen I was prescribed; either way, I’ll take it.

  “I wanted to touch you there so bad when I was with you last time. Tell me what it feels like. Remind me of how perfect you are down there,” he says with a low groan.

  My eyes shut tight. No. No. No. What he says only reminds me of my imperfections. I need to drown out his words before I lose this feeling.

  “Robin, I wish it was my hand in between your legs rubbing, touching, and kissing your perfection,” he says, and by the tone of his voice I know he’s already close. But I’ve lost the feeling. The perfection he refers to is actually now a defect. If he hadn’t said that, I’d have been able to take this all the way. Now, I can’t.

  “Shh, Kent, let me be the one to do the talking.” From this point on it’s about him. For me, the rest of this is putting on a show. “Picture me there with you right now, my body pressed into yours, lowering its way down. My lips pressed against all those hot tattoos along your strong arms. My mouth trailing kisses down your muscular chest. Do you know where I’m heading? Do you know what I want to take hold of and get a taste of?” I tease him, shocked at how unbelievably far I’m taking this call, especially now that I’m no longer in the moment like I was.

  “Say it.” Kent groans, heavy breaths pulsing through my phone. “Say it, Robin, make me come.”

  “Your cock,” I say, and cringe. My hands fly up to cover the scorching red cheeks of my face. Did I really just say that?

  The sound on the other end of the phone is obscene. I take my phone off speaker and hold it up to my ear, listening, waiting for him to calm back down and be able to speak again. It takes a good minute or two. In the time I wait, I’m able to slide back into my clothes.

  “I’ll never make it waiting all the way to Friday to be able to see you,” he says, still gasping for air.

  “You’re going to have to.” I bring my knees up to my chest, smiling into them, and pick at the polish on my toes. “It does seem extremely far away, though. A few more phone calls might help make it come faster. No pun intended.”

  Next time we find ourselves in an intimate moment, I’ll casually mention that using the word perfection is a turn off like lady bits or flower.

  “Trust me,
there will be plenty of phone calls. Jesus Christ, Robin, I’ve known for you so long and yet you never stop surprising me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just I’ve known you forever and every time I see you you’re more beautiful, vibrant, and hotter each time. You’ve got me more caught up and in love with you than ever before.”

  I left this morning to avoid a conversation just like this one. My mouth gets watery along with my eyes. I need to steer us away from this, away from the topic of love.

  “Kent, I think you’re just saying that because I said the word cock.” A word I have never before said in my life until today.

  There’s a weird pause and then Kent’s voice staggers a response.

  “I, I can’t believe you just said it again.”

  Chapter Six

  Robin

  My phone rings every night. Another ‘intimate’ conversation or two has occurred, but mostly we spend the nights talking. Hours go by that feel like minutes. I’m getting reacquainted with Kent, bringing us back to a level where it feels as if no time has lapsed. I find myself being reeled back into his many passions, remembering those of my own.

  The excitement he exudes when he talks about the band is contagious. His passion for music has always attracted me to him. I know what he’s capable of and he’s capable of amazing things. His future shines so bright. Every weekend at Twisted he brings in a crowd. That’s why he’s being offered two more nights at a bar that hasn’t even opened its doors yet. I know without a doubt that this is just the beginning of so many great things for him.

  My eyes blink, struggling to stay open after another late night spent on the phone. One cup of coffee this morning on the way to work was not nearly enough.

  The patient on the table slides into the machine, the heavy door clunks shut, and Jamie takes the seat next to me. She’s throws two aspirin in her mouth and chugs down half a bottle of water. “I’m so hung over,” she announces; lovely, because it’s a Thursday morning. Jamie’s Wednesday nights or ‘hump nights’ as she refers to them, are often spent line dancing at the Saloon. But from the sounds of her stories, she mostly sits at the bar waiting for hot guys to buy her drinks, all the while having an excuse to wear her sexy red cowboy boots.