Blended (Redemption #1)

by Sasha Brümmer

  Is she worth it, though? Without a doubt.

  I hardly know the woman, but I’m drawn to her like a madman. This attraction bullshit is going to ruin me, and I’m going to dive willingly into the rough sea to try and save her from herself. To save her for me.

  It’s been a solid week since I’ve seen her and I can still taste her lips on mine. I know that she’s been into Blended three times since our date because I’ve asked Isla to inform me of when she’s there. Aside from the phone call we had when some asshole had just left her room, I have not spoken to her.

  If I want her as much as I believe that I do, then I need to man the fuck up and find out what is holding her back. Yes, it was just one date, but I’m willing to make an effort and figure out if there is more behind her mask.

  I’ve left my office early—yet another rule I’ve broken for her—to head into Blended. Isla just called the office to let me know that Hadley is there on her own. Isla has been the manager of Blended since before we opened the doors to it, and she’s been a friend of mine since college. She’s someone I have learned to trust in this world of scheming and lying assholes.

  I walk in through the front door and scan my preferred spot for a gorgeous and damaged platinum blonde. When I see her, my entire body reacts and fights itself at once. I want to run to her and sweep her into my arms before kissing the life out of her while the other half of me wants to retreat. She’s sitting in a nook at the back of the venue with her knees drawn up and a book resting against her thighs. She’s lost in the words, and I can see the sentiment roll over her face; it’s the only time she allows the slightest bit of her emotion to show, and I do not think that she realizes it.

  Isla greets me as I walk behind the bar and stretch my arms up to grab a bottle of Dalmore 62 Single Highland Malt Scotch Matheson. It’s the only 62 of the Dalmore that I own, but I’m not concerned.

  “So are you going to tell me why you have a thing up your ass for this woman? She kind of reminds me of a twenty-five-cent whore, regardless of how put-together she appears to be.”

  I glance at her once I’ve gotten the bottle and exhale. “I would tell you if I knew the answer to that, but Isla?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “Don’t judge the book by its cover.”

  “Waylon,” she says, using my first name, “I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never seen you pay this much attention to a woman before. I mean, I’ve never met her before seeing her in here. Why her?”

  I shake my head, trying to rattle an answer free, but nothing comes willingly. “I don’t know, but I can’t stay away.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “As do I, but it’s like running into a hurricane. The rare beauty of it captivates me, and I can’t stop myself from going to it.”

  “You’re so screwed, you ass.”

  “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

  “Two hundred bucks says that it lasts less than a week before she jumps another man’s dick. You should see how many men approach her in here, and I swear that she’s given out her phone number more times than not.”

  I look over at Hadley and fish out my wallet from my pocket. I take out two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and set them on the bar counter in front of Isla. “Then it looks like you’ve already won.”

  A puzzled look crosses her face. “What? She’s already fucked someone else, and you’ve just started to try and win her over?”

  “I don’t know the details, but I know she’s been with another man since I took her on the date.”

  She pockets the two bills and shrugs. “I’ll need to make another wager against her then if it’s going to be that easy.”

  “Easy is not what this is going to be. Behave yourself around her.”

  “Whatever you say, brass balls.”

  “And fuck off with that nickname.”

  She gives me the finger before handing me two tumblers. I walk across the venue, past a few members who greet me, until I’m standing in front of her.

  “Rye.”

  Her head pops up, and a radiant smile graces her face. “Hi.”

  “Is anyone sitting here?” I nod toward the empty section of the nook’s bench.

  “Yes. You are,” she says as I hand her an empty tumbler. She puts her book aside and sits up before taking the other tumbler. I pour the amber liquid into each glass and set the bottle aside before taking the seat beside her.

  “It’s Dalmore 62. Let me know what you think. I haven’t had this one before.”

  She nods and breathes in the limited vintage. She sighs before taking a sip and closing her eyes. “This is incredible. You didn’t have to share this with me. Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome. What are you reading today?” I take a drink and savor it.

  “It’s just another romance novel. I know, you don’t have to say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That it’s senseless that I read romance novels when I don’t believe in the notion.”

  “As much as it shouldn’t make sense, I believe that it does. I think that you’d be capable of more than sex if you allowed yourself to feel more than just a heady orgasm.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she says as she twirls the tumbler, watching the liquid inside of it swirl around and around.

  “Try me.”

  “Can we please not do this now? I feel like I’ve just been put in an interrogation room with a stranger.”

  “We’ll do it when you’re ready then.”

  “I thought that you wanted nothing to do with me after what I did.”

  “You were wrong. I’ve been consumed with Brass Global, and I haven’t had much free time for anything other than sleeping.” That’s one hell of a lie. I wasn’t sure what my final decision was until I walked into the library and saw her again.

  Her face lights up at my untruthful confession, and she leans against my body, “So what’s next?”

  “I need to know where we stand before we can move anywhere. I’ve told you that I won’t be fucking you until you’re ready. Will you be sleeping with another man or men in the meantime?”

  “Would that end whatever this is?” She gestures between us with her hand, and as much as it kills me, I give her my answer.

  “No, because I understand that you think that you need it more than you need the air in your lungs, but I won’t push myself further than I am able to.”

  “I think you just earned yourself another date.”

  “I have?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she says as she leans into me, angling her chin up as I angle mine down to press my lips against hers, tasting the Dalmore on her tongue.

  “I have one rule,” I say against her soft red lips.

  “What is it?”

  “That you won’t fuck another man when I know about it.”

  “I swear it,” she says as she stands up and moves between my legs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I ring my arms around her waist as she nips my bottom lip before taking what she needs from me at this moment, what I’ll allow her to take.

  Our lips are locked together as I graze the visible skin between her shirt and her jeans with my fingertips. What the hell have I just agreed to with this woman? She pulls away and fishes her phone out of her pocket when it goes off. I use her distraction to look up at Isla.

  She’s watching. She’s always been overly concerned about the women who come into my life. In the last few years she’s been a record on repeat telling me that I need to find someone here in Chicago, but by the look on her face now, I know that she meant anyone but the woman standing between my legs.

  A shake of her head verifies my thoughts. I give her the finger, and she laughs across the room. She knows that she will get to say I told you so sooner or later. I do not doubt it. Not when it comes to Hadley Rye.

  I’ve been back at the apartment for over an hour after sharing a drink with Wade. I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch with t
he television on, but my thoughts are pre-occupied with him and his reaction to who I am. He didn’t fight it when I said I needed what he wouldn’t give me. He didn’t even flinch when I said that there would be other men.

  But will there be?

  I mean, Holden is handsome, and he knows how to fuck, but is it worth using him for sex when he might want more from me as well? I don’t know the answer to that. I might need to put him on hiatus for a while, at least until I figure out what I want with Wade, but I sure as hell won’t be telling Wade that. He doesn’t need to know that he’s already gotten to me in a way no man has before. Not even Lawson.

  I hear the front door open, and Lola walks into the living room a few seconds later. “Hey doll,” I say as I set my whiskey down on the coffee table.

  Whiskey. Shit. I can’t even drink my favorite liquor without thinking about him. Where is all of this coming from? I’ve never let my guard down to anyone and here I am inviting this gorgeous stranger into my life.

  “Had-Lo,” she shrieks as she sets her purse down and kicks off her heels before falling back onto the couch next to me in dramatic flair.

  “Did you have a rough day?”

  “Nope, I just wanted to be theatrical.” She laughs and pokes me in the side. “Did you hear from the company that you had that phone interview with?”

  “Yes! I got the position, and I’m so relieved.”

  I had the interview this morning before I went to Blended in the afternoon. They offered me the position on the spot, and I’m thrilled. With a new job under my belt and the possibility of Wade, I feel giddy and lightheaded.

  “And what exactly will you be doing?”

  “You have to swear that you won’t judge me because of this, okay?”

  “Scout’s honor.” She holds up her middle finger toward me and I crack up.

  “I’m serious, Lo,” I say with a laugh.

  “Blow me.”

  “I mean . . . not that I need the practice, but I’ll need to figure out how to make it believable over the phone.”

  “Uh, what?” she readjusts herself on the couch so her legs are tucked underneath her and she’s facing toward me.

  “You’re looking at Low-Sound’s new phone-sex operator.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” She waits for me to play my imaginary drumset on my joke, “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. It’s something that I love to do, and I’ll be getting paid.”

  “You’re going to feel like a paid whore, Hadley.”

  “I might like it,” I shoot back at her and she shakes her head, apparently disapproving.

  “Fine. I won’t argue with your happiness, but I will make the first phone call once you’re all set up. I need my girl-on-girl fantasy met before I die.”

  “As if.” I toss a throw pillow at her, and we both keel over in laughter.

  “You love me, Hads. Don’t deny that you wouldn’t give it a go.”

  “With you? Nope. There’s not enough money in the world, but I have with another woman, and I have to say . . . I prefer the dick.”

  She gasps and speaks through her fingers that are now covering her mouth. “I could so live vicariously through you for the remainder of my life.”

  “I don’t think that it would be too exciting,” I say honestly.

  “Are you kidding me? You were out with some guy, and then you came home . . . then literally came when Holden showed up.”

  “You know about that?”

  “Duh. Who the hell do you think let the stinker into the apartment?”

  “Fuck you,” I say with a smile so she knows that I’m not entirely serious.

  “I love you too.” She giggles and sits up. “But seriously, you need to tell me about the man that you went out with.”

  I groan and sink into the couch, wishing that it would swallow me whole. “What about him?”

  I dare a glance at her, and she’s glaring at me with her amber eyes. “Seriously? Do I need to drag all of the information out of you?”

  “I honestly don’t know what to offer up, Lo. He’s just, I don’t know, different. Demanding. Serious. Attractive as all hell.”

  “It sounds like my little Hadley has a crush.” She claps excitedly.

  “A crush? What are we? Thirteen?”

  “Oh my God, you do like him, you bitch.”

  I turn away from her and glance out of the windows. Like him? As in more than sex? As in . . . I like him even though we haven’t fucked? This cannot be happening. I’m about to willingly step over the edge of the rabbit hole and plummet to my heart’s death. Queen of hearts, my ass.

  “Earth to Hadley,” she says as she leans over and waves her hand in front of my face just as my phone goes off with a text message from Gentlemen Jack. She snags it from my lap and holds it up, reading his words out loud: “I need to see you tonight, Rye.”

  “Holy demanding, Hads. What does he look like? Do you have a picture of him? What’s his name?”

  “Holy shit, Lo. Have you heard of privacy?” I grab my phone back, and my heart does this tiny offbeat ache when I see his words scrolled across my screen. I quickly type back a message to him before I answer any of Lo’s grilling questions: Why, Whiskey, are you that needy or do you just miss me already?

  His reply is almost instant as if he was waiting for me: You’re not mine to miss.

  I grimace when I read over it. Why does that leave me wounded? I exhale, resigned, and type out my response: Let me know when and where. I’ll see you later.

  He doesn’t respond right away, and I set my phone down in my lap again.

  “Well . . . ?” Lo asks.

  “Fine, but I’m only giving up what I want to and nothing more.”

  “I’m not asking for your anal virginity. I’m asking about a man who has you intrigued.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “His name is Waylon Brass, but he goes by Wade on a personal level.”

  I swear that her jaw drops open like she’s about to swallow a girthy cock. “Excuse me?” she squeaks.

  “Uhm, Wade. That’s his name and no, I don’t have any pictures of him.”

  “My God, you’re a lucky bitch. Are you serious? Do you know who he is?”

  “What?”

  “He’s only Chicago’s most eligible bachelor. All of the women would give their ovaries over to have him in bed with them. He’s the owner of Brass Global. The man won’t date anyone, though . . . until now,” she says as she raises a perfectly shaped brow at me.

  “We’re not dating, Lola.”

  She scoffs. “Yes. Yes, you are, and don’t you dare deny it. He could be good for you.” She grabs my phone and types in Waylon Brass into Google Images. In a second the screen is bursting with images of him. I take my phone back and click on the first picture. He’s wearing a navy suit with a white button-down and no tie. The collar of his shirt is undone, and my heart palpitates.

  “That man is dapper as fuck,” she states matter-of-factly.

  This man is unquestionably gorgeous. There’s no doubt about it, and my attraction to him is obviously not something I can hide, considering I’m almost hyperventilating at his picture, just thinking about his lips.

  “You’re blushing,” Lo yelps and throws her arms around my neck in a hug.

  “I am not.” I touch my cheeks, and they are warmer than normal. Damn it.

  “Hads, you really like him.”

  “I don’t know anything about him, Lola. How can I like him?”

  “An instant attraction, that’s how. You may not want to give up your whorish ways, but no one comes into our lives by accident, and we seem to attract what we’re ready for, what we want.”

  “I mean, I know I’m physically attracted to him, but that might be it.”

  “Nope. I believe that there’s more. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

  I lean away from her suffocating hug and shake my head. “I have, and I am, but I feel as if he’s seen inside my soul with just a glance at me—it’s
as if he can see straight through me.”

  “And? I don’t see the problem with that.”

  I pull up my knees and hug them, resting my head on top as I look over at her. “Me either. That’s the issue.”

  My phone vibrates, and I swear my heart physically slams against my chest. I pick it up and swipe my finger across the screen: I couldn’t wait. What’s your apartment number?

  “Holy shit.”

  “What happened?” Lola asks as all of the color drains from my face.

  “He’s here.”

  “What? Here? Like in the building here?”

  “Mmm-hmm. He wants to come up.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for? I’ll just say hi and vanish. I just want to see him in person. I never have before, and I’ve heard that his pictures don’t do him any justice.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  I send a short reply to him: 1324. I don’t want him to know just how much his wanting to be with me has affected me. I mean, I just saw him some two hours ago, and I’m desperate to see him again.

  I watch as Lo jumps up and runs over to her purse, pulling out her lipstick and applying it at the hallway mirror before fluffing her hair out.

  Uh, hello? He’s mine.

  Mine?

  Before I’m able to finish the thought, there’s a knock on the door, and Lola rushes into the foyer to answer it. I sit completely still, straining to hear their conversation.

  “’Evening, and my apologies. I must have the wrong apartment,” he says darkly. I swear I hear the slightest bit of annoyance in his voice as if I’ve lied to him about what apartment I’m in.

  “It’s Waylon Brass, right?”

  There’s a short pause before he answers. “It is, but I think I have the wrong place. My apologies.”

  I get up and walk faster than necessary to the foyer before my mind can stop me. My body pulls me toward him of its own accord, and for right now, I’m not going to fight it. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to think that I lied to him just because Lo answered the damn door.