It doesn't bother me that he's slept with more women than he can remember. He's a gorgeous man who loves to fuck. I bit back at the jealousy early on by dating other men. It always works, until it doesn't anymore.
I refuse to be just another name in his past. I don't want that. I won't be it. I brought up those other women because I want him to see that I fit into a different corner of his life than any of them ever could. I'm not ready to give that up.
I can find another man to fuck. I can't find another friend like Crew.
The discussion was difficult, the moments spent on the beach afterward were awkward but it was all necessary.
We can go back to Manhattan in two days as friends. Eventually we'll both forget the kiss and life will be as it was.
It has to be. I need it to be.
"You're daydreaming about a burger, aren't you?" Crew steps into my line of sight as I turn from where I've been staring out the window. "You have that look in your eye again."
"What look?" I laugh through the question.
"The one that makes me want to grill you a burger." He looks out at the deck and the large silver grill that he used to cook our streaks. "I'm the Benton burger king."
"Is that supposed to be impressive?" I tease, grateful that the uncomfortable walk on the beach didn't carry into our evening.
He shakes his head, pointing his finger at me. "You're going to eat those words after I cook dinner for you."
"When is that happening?" It's barely six o'clock. I made a sandwich before I hit the pool and I saw Crew eating an apple less than an hour ago after we made our way back up the private boardwalk. I'm not hungry. I doubt he is either.
He glances down at his silver wristwatch. I haven't seen it on him since I arrived. I haven't seen him in gray pants and a black button down shirt either but that's what he's wearing.
"After I get back." He runs his hand over his smooth jaw. He shaved since our walk. Showered too and applied what smells like Matiz cologne.
It's not lost on me that he's going somewhere alone. I ask because the curiosity is nipping at me. "Where are you off to?"
"I'm meeting a friend for a drink."
It's a woman. A man wouldn't warrant the effort he's put in to get himself ready.
"You have friends in the Hamptons?"
What an idiotic question. He has friends everywhere .
"She's visiting from Los Angeles." His gaze coasts past my face to the view of the ocean beyond. "We're not often in the same place at the same time."
Did you call her or did she call you?
I don't ask because I can't. I'm the one who retreated back to the friendship line less than three hours ago. Who he spends his time with is none of my business. He made a decision to forgo time with me tonight to spend it with someone else, just as I made a decision to keep things platonic between us. I can't be upset because he's doing what's best for him.
"Don't rush back," I say in a voice that doesn't sound like my own.
He caresses my lips with his eyes, hesitating briefly before he finally responds. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Call if you need me."
I nod. I do need him but I won't call. I made the choice to let him go and now I have to watch him leave knowing he's on his way to meet someone else. My heart breaks apart again. I'll put it back together. I always do. Maybe this time I'll get it right and Crew won't be holding most of the pieces.
***
A couple of hours turned into four and by then I was too tired to eat anything more than a bowl of cereal. I ate that, alone in my room, with my gaze trained to my phone.
I was tempted to reach out to Crew to ask when he'd be back, but he knows my number. If he felt the need to get in touch, he would have.
It's after two now, and I'm wide awake. I've opened the curtains and windows in my room to let the cool breeze and sounds of the night seep in. I thought that would help lull me back to sleep, but it hasn't.
I'm tempted to wander down the hallway that leads to the other wing of the house. I want to see if Crew is back. I didn't hear his car pull up but I didn't hear it when he took off hours ago either.
I watched him leave, without a glance back at me, wondering if I'd misjudged how easily either of us could go back to being just friends.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand on the cool wood floor. I'm wearing white lace panties and a pink tank top. Normally, I sleep without a shirt, but I was fearful that I might have a nightmare and Crew would come bounding in my room to find me in tears and topless.
I pick up my phone from the nightstand and glance at the screen. The only messages are from Sydney and Ellie from earlier this evening. Both asking if I'm having fun and, naturally, Ellie is worried that I forgot sunscreen. I ignored both messages when they first came in. I will until morning.
I walk to the window and look out but the darkness is infinite and unrelenting. I can't see beyond the edge of the wraparound deck. The small white lights that hang from the railing are swaying gently with the wind.
I move to the door, opening it slowly. I didn't bring a robe and my sweatpants are still on my bed back home, next to the shampoo and conditioner I planned on packing. As always, Crew had taken care of that. The bathroom that's attached to my bedroom here has everything I could need including the expensive Matiz hair products I rarely allow myself to buy.
I pad down the hallway toward the main room. I can tell the only light that is shining is the one I left on. It's on a small table next to the sofa by the fireplace. I thought if Crew came home, he'd need it to guide his way into the kitchen and beyond to his room.
I approach the front door and peek out through the glass that borders it. I can't see anything. No car, no Crew, just vast darkness beyond the lights that border the driveway.
A twisted knot settles in my stomach when I turn back around. There's no sign that Crew is here. His keys aren't on the foyer table where they normally are. My sandals are still right in the path of the doorway where I left them. He's tripped over them twice since I got here which is why I keep putting them in the very same spot. He curses, I laugh and then he winks at me. That happened before this afternoon, before I shut him out as anything but my friend.
What if everything we had is now broken beyond repair?
Panic washes over me.
"Crew?" I call out into the empty house. "Crew. Please be here."
I wait to hear the sound of distant footsteps or his voice, but there's only dense silence surrounding me.
I close my eyes against the onslaught of conflicting emotions that hit me suddenly and violently.
I stumble toward the fireplace, my toes sweeping against the edge of the light gray area rug.
If he's not here that means he's still with the nameless woman he met for a drink hours ago.
He likes to drink, but even Crew wouldn't still be in a bar. He would have taken the party somewhere else.
I cover my face with my hands and kneel down, trying to stop the tears.
This is exactly what I wanted, but the pain is blinding. I pushed him away earlier to avoid this, but it's already too late. I'm in deeper than I've ever been before and this time I don't have a safety net. Before we kissed, I could convince myself it was for the best to stay at arm's length. I could make my heart shut up by dating other men. Now that I've tasted his mouth and felt his hand on my skin, it's impossible to push aside what I feel.
I don't even know why I kissed him. I promised myself I wouldn't. I knew where this would go, but my strength was tattered that night. I was weak, too fragile to see the consequences clearly.
Now, he's with another woman, kissing her the way he kissed me. Touching her in the same way I've ached for.
I held a piece of his heart no one else ever has. I was his best friend until I wanted more. Now, it feels like I've lost that too.
I was fooling myself when I thought nothing would change. Everything is different.
I roll to my side, my body jerking with
each sob I can't contain. Grief courses through me. I pushed away the only person who has always been there for me. He's my rock, the sole constant in my life that keeps me anchored.
He's the man who roared into my life like a heated summer night storm and saved me, even if he doesn't know it.
"Ad?" Crew's voice cracks through the still air. "Jesus, Adley."
I feel him before he's near me; the surge of feverish energy emanating from him is almost palpable. He's on his hands and knees before I can form a thought.
"Sweetheart." He pulls me into his big body from behind, his arms circling me. "Ad, please. You're scaring the fuck out of me. Tell me what's wrong."
I turn over quickly, burying my face in his bare chest. I cry every tear I've held in for the past five years as I cling to the man I can't live without.
Chapter 24
Crew
Time passes. Not quickly but at a snail's pace. I hold her tightly, wishing I could take her to my bed and keep her there, away from whatever or whoever caused this.
I got home hours ago, but she was already shuttered away in her room. I listened by the door, tempted to knock but there was no noise behind it. I took a walk outside around the property and looked in the direction of her bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the lights off so I ignored the urge to text her and I went to my room with a bottle of scotch.
I've seen her cry before but not like this.
This sliced me in two. I heard her call out as I went over projection numbers for the Matiz location in Phoenix. I took another sip of my drink to numb the pain I've been feeling since this afternoon when she told me that she needs me as a friend; just a friend, nothing more.
When I got out here she was on the floor. Broken.
"I've got you," I whisper again, for the third time.
I can't tell if my words are comforting or pissing her off. She hasn't responded. She hasn't moved. Her arms are wrapped around me, her head resting against my chest.
"Whatever it is, I can help." I can. Whatever the fuck happened, I can fix it.
Her legs move slightly, but she's as silent as she's been since I got on this cold, hard floor.
I press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm going to pick you up. All you need to do is hold on."
"No," she whispers faintly. I barely hear it.
I'll stay on this fucking floor all night if what's what she wants, but I want her comfortable. "Let me put you on the sofa."
"I can get up," she hiccups out as her tears stop. "I can do it."
I know she can. She can do anything she puts her mind to, other than deal with whatever the fuck has gouged its way into her so deep that it's dragging her down.
I roll back and bounce to my feet, holding out a hand to help her.
She looks up, her face a swollen mess of despair. "I thought you were still out."
I nudge her up by her elbow, wrapping my arm around her waist. The skin on skin contact does my cock a favor. I'm dressed in pajama bottoms and nothing else. I can't mask what I'm feeling. I don't want to.
I might have agreed, in principle, to be the best friend forever, but that doesn't quiet my body's need for her.
She looks down at my obvious erection, straining against the soft black silk.
"I should go back to bed." Her eyes lock on mine. "Did I wake you?"
I shove both hands through my hair and exhale. I need to cool down. It suddenly feels hot as hell in here. "I was up."
"When did you get back?"
"Earlier," I offer without any explanation.
My reason for taking off this evening was simple. I needed air. Fresh air that didn't smell like her or taste like her. I couldn't look at her in that red bikini after I was friend-zoned.
I stood on that beach, with my eyes cast to the sand as she dipped her toes in the Atlantic for the first time. Then I returned the call of a woman I only see twice a year. When she proposed a drink, I suggested a place.
"What's eating you up?" I ask because she sure as hell isn't going to offer.
She keeps her emotions in a safe locked as tightly as my own.
"Nothing," she spits out the expected answer with a pout of her pink lips. "I had a bad dream."
"About what?" I push because I can smell bullshit a mile away and her response reeks.
She searches the air around us with her eyes for an answer. "I can't remember."
"What is eating you up?" I repeat my initial question. "Don't bullshit me, Adley."
She fidgets on her feet, her tits bouncing under the thin fabric of the tank top she has on. "I can't remember."
I inch forward, closing the space between us. "As we established, yet again this afternoon, we are friends. I'm the type of guy who doesn't like to see his friends all torn up, so if you want me to repeat the question again, I will and if you continue to offer me answers I don't believe, I'll keep asking."
Her hands lace together in front of her. "Maybe I was worried that you'd been in an accident. It's not like you drive all the time."
True, I don't, but when I do, I own the road. I step closer. "Try again."
She scowls. "Crew."
"Adley."
"What do you want me to say?" Her hands dart to her hips and those breasts, those sweet, round breasts of hers bounce yet again.
I'm not a tit man. I'm not a leg man either. A pretty cunt will make me hard as a bag of nails, but a perfect, heart shaped ass is what brings me to my knees.
With Adley, it's all of it. I want it all. I still want it all.
"Why were you so torn up?" I take that last step that separates us.
Her eyes travel over my chest, my biceps, my shoulders and then finally my face. I'm in no hurry. I'll wait all fucking night if she wants to take her time to visually inspect the goods.
"I'm going to bed," she says the words but she doesn't move an inch.
I do. I run the tip of my index finger over her forearm. "I'll go with you."
"What? Why?"
My finger travels up her shoulder before I bring it to her chin. "I want an answer to my question. Tell me what the hell happened before I walked in and found you on the floor."
Her bottom lip trembles just ever so slightly but she bites it to a halt. "You must be tired. You had a long day. Why don't we just call it a night and talk about this in the morning?"
I cock both brows. "Because we're going to talk about it tonight."
Her hands move to her stomach. She inches up her shirt. It's a habit she has that she's completely unaware of it. She doesn't show much skin, but it's enough to tempt me yet again. "I need you to trust me to talk about this when I'm ready."
I grab her hand. I hold it against the warm skin of her stomach. "I want to help you."
She shudders. "You can’t."
Like hell I can't.
"I have to figure this out on my own." Her hand grips mine tighter, sliding it up a quarter of an inch.
I stare down into her face. I want to kiss her. Fuck, do I want to kiss her.
"I'm here if you need me." I close my eyes because her skin is so soft and my dick isn't. I need another cold shower.
I had one when I got home and that had nothing to do with the woman I was with earlier. She wanted to introduce me to the friend she'd brought along to surprise me with. I wanted to come back here and stare at Adley.
The guy on the bar stool next to me hit the threesome lottery.
I hit the bitter edge of frustration when I got back and she was already fast asleep.
It felt like needles of ice were piercing my back as I stood in the shower, my cock in my palm, while I thought about the petite blonde I'm looking at now.
"I'm going to bed," she announces like the inquisition has ground to a complete halt.
It has, for now.
With that she turns. I stand in silence watching the most perfect heart shaped ass covered in white lace, leave the room taking the most incredible woman in the world with it.
Chapter 25
Adley
Of course, he made me breakfast in bed. He's perfect.
"You didn't have to do this for me, Crew." I adjust the white blanket around my waist as I lean back on the cushioned headboard. "I could have come to have breakfast in the dining room."
"I waited half a fucking day for that." He rolls his mesmerizing green eyes. "It's almost noon, Ad."
"What?" I reach for my phone on the bedside table and scan the screen.
He's right.
I can't remember the last time I slept in this late. It has to be years. It was before...
"Can I place this tray down now?" He winks. "I swam laps in the pool for over an hour this morning and my arms are burnt."
I drum my fingers on my lap. "Put it here."
He places down a wooden breakfast tray covered in a linen napkin. There's coffee, orange juice, toast and a bowl of fresh berries. There's also a single rose. It's a lighter shade than the dozen that sit atop my bedside table but it's no less beautiful.
"This looks delicious." I look up at him.
He fingers the collar of the V neck gray T-shirt he's wearing. "Eat it all."
I nod sharply as I take a bite of the toast. "What time did you get up to swim?"
He walks backward before he lowers himself into a brown arm chair near the wall. "At five. I'm always up by five."
"Even on the weekends? Even out here?" I toss two blueberries into my mouth.
A sly smile crosses his lips. "Every day. I don't need much sleep."
Apparently not. I didn't get back into my room until close to three this morning which means he got to bed around the same time. Yet, he looks rested and ready to take on the day.
"Did you have fun last night?" I ask cautiously. It's a form of self-torture and the thoughts that kept my mind in motion until I finally gave in to the exhaustion and drifted off. I don't need or want details and yet I ask.
"Does it bother you that I met someone for a drink?"
I look over at where he's seated. His expression doesn't give anything away. He's not teasing which means it's a question he expects an answer to.
Troublemaker Page 10
