Audrey And The Hero Upstairs (Scandalous Series Book 5)

by R. Linda

  I sat up and patted the bed. “Can’t watch a movie from the doorway.”

  Her face broke into a small smile, and she crossed the threshold into my room, taking her place on the bed beside me. I stood and grabbed my laptop from the desk in the corner and turned to face Audrey. “Want the light off?”

  She thought about it for a minute, glancing from me to the switch on the wall before shaking her head. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  I smiled and tried to figure out what that meant, particularly after that conversation downstairs. Was she leaving the light on because I admitted I liked what I saw? If she was, did that mean she was okay with it? Did she want me to look? I shook my head clear. I was going to give myself a headache. Seventeen. She was seventeen. It meant nothing.

  Almost eighteen.

  Seventeen, damn it.

  I gave Audrey the laptop and let her pick the movie before placing it on the bedside table so I didn’t have to hold it all night and sat on the bed beside her.

  “Brody?”

  “Cupcake?”

  “You’re kind of blocking my view.” She tugged on my arm. I looked down at her legs stretched out, head on my pillow, my body directly blocking her view of the laptop screen.

  “Sorry.” I slid down until my head hit the other pillow and we were lying side by side. I lifted my arms and placed my hands behind my head because…well, I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and it would stop me from trying to touch her again.

  Big mistake.

  It took Audrey two-point-four seconds before she’d rolled onto her side and rested her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest.

  I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths. Hands firmly behind my head. It was fine. Everything was fine. Men and women could be close without it meaning anything. It didn’t have to mean anything. We were friends. And friends shared a bed and watched movies and cuddled all the time, right?

  Cuddled.

  Shit.

  I’d lowered my hand without even realising it and placed it on Audrey’s waist.

  Perfectly platonic. Normal. Fine.

  I tried to concentrate on the screen, on whatever movie Audrey had picked, but I couldn’t. Audrey’s fingers danced across my chest, tapping and swirling and tracing patterns on my bare skin. Crap. I should have put on a shirt. If I did that now, she’d probably freak out again. I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t a friendly thing. This was more. Men and women could be friends if they didn’t lie half naked in a bed together. Lines blurred too easily.

  Audrey shifted, her body moved closer, and her leg brushed mine.

  Seventeen.

  Her tank had lifted a fraction when she moved. Just enough to expose some skin. Like a magnet, my fingers were drawn to her flesh. I mimicked her movements, tracing the rough, scarred skin on her hip, back and forth. She shivered from my touch but didn’t stop me. I wasn’t even sure she was watching the movie anymore. I knew I wasn’t. I was looking at the screen but not seeing anything.

  But I was feeling everything. Her fingers drifted across my chest, down my stomach, traced around my bellybutton, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. It wasn’t until her hand ventured lower, toward the waistband of my pants, that I had the sense to stop her. I grabbed her hand, threaded my fingers through hers, and raised it up to my chest.

  “That’s enough exploration, don’t you think?” I whispered into her hair, breathing in the scent of strawberries, and held her hand to my chest, all the while still dragging slow circles on her hip.

  “Sorry.” She tried to pull away.

  “Don’t.” I wrapped my arm tighter around her, fixed her tank, and dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

  Seventeen.

  Almost eighteen.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Seven

  Audrey

  Things were weird after that night. I’d woken up to an empty bed. Brody had chosen to sleep on the floor rather than beside me, and I didn’t know what to make of that. I didn’t know what to make of anything, to be honest. My head was swimming. A mess of confusion.

  Don’t touch me.

  Touch me.

  I like what I see.

  Lie with me.

  Let me touch you.

  Don’t touch me too much.

  Gentle kiss.

  Sleep on the floor.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Did Brody like me, not like me, want to touch me, want me to touch him, keep our distance? I had no idea, and I’d done nothing but think about it and stew on it for two days. I’d avoided everyone once again, surprise-surprise, choosing to stay in my room again. But tonight was unavoidable.

  It was Sunday.

  And I’d made a promise to Brody. No matter how much I wanted to back out and hide under the comfort of my covers, I couldn’t. A promise was a promise. And it was the perfect time to test the waters, so to speak. I was returning to school the next day, and I needed to get out of my comfort zone…a little. And if I was going to do that, I might as well do it correctly.

  I went upstairs and had possibly the fastest shower of my life and got dressed. A pair of new jeans and long sleeve, V-neck shirt that looked casual, normal, but still hid the majority of my scars. I then focused on my hair, carefully styling it to cover the side of my face that was left disfigured by the fire. Kenzie had forced me to buy makeup as well, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. If I wore makeup, it’d just look like I was trying to hide my scars—which I was, but that wasn’t the point.

  I didn’t want to appear as though I was hiding or insecure. Like everyone kept telling me, if I faked the confidence, it would happen naturally. People only ridiculed others when they could get away with it. It was a variation of what parents taught kids when they were younger. Don’t let the bullies get to you. They thrive on making other people suffer. So, essentially, if I didn’t let people think I was scared, nervous, or affected by the constant stares and whispers, if I allowed them to think I was happy and confident, then I would be, and they’d move on.

  Made sense, in theory.

  In practice, it was a hell of a lot harder.

  Maybe a little concealer. Just to calm the redness. And some mascara to make my eyes stand out more, detract from the rest of my face. I smiled. I was lying to myself. I couldn’t fake it. I wasn’t confident. I was terrified, and I was only having dinner with the pack. What would I be like at school tomorrow?

  I shuddered to think about it. Maybe I could skip. No one would know, right?

  Who was I kidding? It was Blackhill. Everyone would know.

  The sound of voices travelled up the stairs, echoing as they moved through the house, followed by the front door opening and closing and more voices.

  Okay. I took a deep breath. I could do this.

  I opened the bathroom door at the same time Brody opened his. We stopped and stared awkwardly at each other. Was it wrong that I was mad at him for being so confusing, yet I really wanted to run my fingers through his messy hair and scratch my nails over his scruffy face?

  He looked me up and down, dragging his eyes slowly over my body. I wanted to curl into myself and wrap my bathrobe around me to cover up, and at the same time, I wanted to pull my top off and throw it at his face.

  Whoa. Settle down. These feelings were all new, and I didn’t know how to handle them.

  “You okay?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

  I shrugged. I couldn’t get any words out.

  “Haven’t seen you for a few days. Thought you might have been avoiding me.”

  I stared and fidgeted with my shirt.

  “You look great. Relax.” Brody closed the distance between us to grab my hands in his. He linked our fingers and tugged me toward the stairs.

  “You slept on the floor,” I blurted.

  “I did.”

  “Because?” I was a sucker for punishment. I wasn’t sure I really wa
nted to know the answer, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the dark either. Ha. That was ironic.

  “Now is probably not the best time,” Brody whispered as we descended the stairs into the foyer.

  “Please,” I said, plastering a fake smile on my face and reluctantly dropping Brody’s hand when Leanne spotted us and made her way over.

  “Because I don’t think I can trust myself around you anymore.” Brody’s lips grazed my ear as he spoke low so only I could hear.

  I gasped.

  He chuckled then walked away, leaving me standing there alone in the foyer looking like an idiot while Leanne rushed over and squeezed Brody’s arm.

  “Audrey, I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” She smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, gently leading me into the kitchen where Indie and Bailey were talking.

  “Well, I promised.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, but it was.

  Indie smiled, and Bailey said hi, so I gave them a small wave and stood in the corner of the room, unsure what to do next. Where had Brody gone?

  “Why don’t you girls go on outside? I’ll finish up in here. Make the most of the warm weather while it lasts,” Leanne suggested with a nod to the French doors that led to the patio.

  “Come on,” Indie said, pouring two wines and carrying them outside.

  “Ah, In?” Bailey called after her. “I can’t drink that.”

  “I know. It’s not for you. Audrey.” She winked over her shoulder at me, so I followed them silently to the lounge chairs beside the pool. “You look like you’re going to pass out,” she said, collapsing into a chair next to Bailey.

  “I might,” I admitted and slowly lowered myself into the chair beside her. Bailey shifted around until she was comfortable, which I couldn’t imagine would be very easy, considering the swollen belly she was carrying around. Was she supposed to look that big so early in a pregnancy? I didn’t know much about pregnancy, but she looked as though she was ready to go into labour at any minute, and she wasn’t due for months.

  “That’s why I brought you this.” She handed me the wine.

  I brought it to my nose and inhaled the fruity scent. Delicious. Growing up with Italian parents, I wasn’t a stranger to wine. It was quite normal to have a small glass with dinner every so often. I smiled gratefully and took a sip. I closed my eyes, savouring the taste, imagining I was anywhere but there. Somewhere secluded without the prying eyes of the guys across the pool. I knew they were only looking in this direction out of shock that I actually showed up for dinner for once, but I was still uncomfortable with the attention.

  “Good?” Indie asked.

  “Mmmm.”

  Bailey sighed. “I miss wine.”

  “Lucky I’m here, then.” Kenzie’s voice sounded from behind me. I looked up to see her standing there with yet another two wine glasses. She handed one to Bailey and took a sip of her own.

  Bailey frowned and stared at the glass of wine in her hand.

  “Relax, B, it’s not alcoholic. Found it at the supermarket today.”

  Bailey’s face lit up with a grin. “You have no idea how much I’ve been craving wine. And it’s so wrong because, well…” She rubbed her belly. “This. But this is amazing.” She took a sip and groaned. “So good. You might as well bring me the bottle.”

  “One step ahead of you.” Kenzie leaned down and picked up a bottle that looked exactly like real wine and handed it to Bailey, who hugged it to her chest.

  “She’s going to become a freaking non-alcoholic now,” Indie teased.

  Bailey climbed out of her seat and carried her wine and wine bottle over to where Ryder was standing with Brody, Linc, Jeremy, and Steve. Because, apparently, that was how these dinners worked. The guys drank beer around the barbeque while Ryder grilled, and the girls sipped wine by the pool and gossiped.

  Kenzie took the seat beside me and leaned over to flick my hair. “Looks good. Glad to see you finally made an appearance.”

  “Kenzie,” Indie warned.

  “What? It’s nice to see her out of her room. Maybe that shopping trip the other day did a world of good. Or maybe that guy in the store did.”

  “Yes!” Indie clapped and sat a little straighter. “I think he was flirting with you.”

  “Doubt it,” I mumbled into my wine. He probably got paid a commission and learned how to sweet talk his way into getting all the sales.

  “Don’t sell yourself so short. We saw the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention,” Indie said.

  “Who looked at who?” Brody appeared out of nowhere.

  “The dude in the store the other day. Couldn’t keep his eyes off Audrey,” Kenzie answered.

  I looked up at Brody, but he was staring straight ahead. His strong jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, stores like that pay their staff to flirt with the customers. That’s how they make their sales,” he said and walked off.

  “What the hell, Brody?” Kenzie called out to him. “That was a shitty thing to say.”

  I dropped my gaze to my lap where my hands were clenched. That little bit of confidence I had from Brody’s earlier words and the wine was gone. I handed Kenzie my glass and stood.

  Indie tried to stop me, but I shook my head. I wanted to be alone. It was one thing to have negative thoughts about myself, but it was another to hear the person who was meant to be a friend, expected to care, voice them as well. Way to fucking go, Brody. You just destroyed everything you had worked so hard for.

  I crossed the backyard and entered the house, ignoring Leanne’s concerns, and grabbed some clothes from my room then stormed through the foyer toward the stairs. I ran straight into Nate as he walked through the front door with Harper. Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. Raised voices could be heard from outside. I figured the girls were arguing with Brody about what he said, but I didn’t care.

  “Whoa!” Nate’s hands came to rest on my shoulders, stopping me from falling backwards. “Where’s the fi—?” He cut himself off and winced. Yeah, great. Ask a burn victim where the fire was. What was wrong with people today?

  “Leave me alone, Nate.” I shrugged off his hold and climbed the stairs to the bathroom.

  I stayed in the shower until my tears ran dry and the water ran cold before getting out and getting dressed. Screw Brody. I wasn’t going to let his words, or anyone’s words, affect me anymore. I was better than that. I was fun and outgoing and confident once upon a time, and I could be again.

  With my new resolve, I made my way quietly down the stairs, hoping to avoid anyone who still might be hanging around. Whispered voices halted me in my tracks, though. Peering down the stairs, I saw Ryder leaning over and speaking to Indie.

  “You can’t say anything,” he said.

  “How can I not?” Indie hissed. They were standing beside the staircase, huddled close together, and hadn’t yet noticed me above them. I craned my neck and listened harder.

  “She can’t know about this, Indie. It will destroy everything.”

  “But, she’s my best friend. I can’t lie to her.”

  “I’m not asking you to lie. I’m telling you not to say anything. She doesn’t suspect anything, so it’s not going to come up in conversation, which means you won’t have to lie. Okay?”

  “What about Linc?”

  “No. No one can know, Indie.”

  I’d heard enough and wanted them to know I’d heard. Even though I didn’t know what they were discussing, it was obvious enough that it couldn’t have been good. Talk about lying and destroying things was never good. I stomped down the stairs and stared at Ryder and Indie as I passed. Ryder jumped back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and Indie looked guilty as hell. Whatever it was, Bailey didn’t deserve to have her best friend and boyfriend lie to her.

  “Audrey, how are you feeling?” Indie plastered a fake smile on her face.

  “Peachy.” I answered sarcastically and walked into my room, slamming the door behind
me.

  Chapter Eight

  Brody

  Dinner was even more awkward than I had expected. Not because of Nate and Harper, but because of my big mouth. Ryder had called me a fucking wanker, and Linc didn’t say anything. He just hit me over the back of the head and rolled his eyes.

  I waited until everyone had gone and Leanne and Steve went to bed before silently creeping down the stairs to Audrey’s room. I needed to explain and make things right. I never meant for what I said to sound the way it did. I never meant to hurt her.

  Jealousy was a bitch.

  I was jealous over a kid in a different town, who I’d never met before. Someone Audrey would likely never see again. I had never been a jealous person. Hell, I wasn’t even jealous that Nate and Harper were hooking up behind my back. I was pissed that they lied about it, hurt that she chose him and not me, but not jealous.

  What was wrong with me? When did I let a woman have so much power over me?

  Seventeen.

  She was seventeen, and I wanted to strangle the guy who flirted with her.

  It wasn’t even flirting. He sold her clothes. That was it.

  I knocked on her door, and as expected, received no answer, so I pushed it open and found Audrey on her bed with her back to the door, no doubt listening to her music.

  “I don’t care what you have to say, Brody. Grovel as much as you want, I don’t care. I’m done caring anymore.” She rolled over and faced me. I expected to see tears, sadness, or even anger. Instead I saw hard determination.

  I took a step closer and pulled her desk chair to the side of the bed. Sitting on it backwards, I rested my arms over the back and stared at her. She stared right back.

  “I’m lost. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Audrey opened her mouth to speak, but I reached over and pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Let me talk. Let me say what I need to say, and then you can make up your mind about me, our friendship, whatever. Okay?”

  Audrey nodded.

  I brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “I’m confused, conflicted. You have me so twisted, I don’t know which way is up anymore. I don’t know right from wrong. I’ve never been so messed up before. What I said earlier outside was a complete lie. You know that. I never should have said it.” I paused, twisting a lock of her hair in my fingers. She stared at me silently and waited for me to continue. “But I saw the small smile on your face when they said he was flirting with you, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it because I want your smiles to be for me. I’m jealous as hell, cupcake, and I shouldn’t be. I know I shouldn’t be. I don’t know when things changed. Maybe they were always heading this way. I’m not sure. Somewhere along the way, this became more than just a friendship. And I don’t think I’m the only one in this room who agrees with that. You’re seventeen. I’m twenty-five. All I know is I feel like I’m spiralling, and I can’t stop it. I don’t know what to do. These feelings have surprised me more than anything, and I don’t want to hurt you. I want to take care of you, but I don’t know how, or if I even should. I’m sorry for making you feel bad. I’m sorry for everything.”