by S. R. Grey
We’re about the same height and weight, so she may be able to take me. Worried that my little sis might actually beat my ass, I put up my hands and say, “Okay, okay.”
I stand and tug my Wolves sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in an old ratty bra and sweatpants, my uniform of late. I toss the shirt at my sister and, catching it, she says, “I didn’t know you were a hockey fan. Oh, wait.” She turns it over. “This is for that team out in Las Vegas.”
I quickly look away.
When I venture a glance over at her, her eyes are wide and her mouth is agape.
“Don’t say a word,” I warn.
Of course, that doesn’t stop Lainey.
“Holy crap, Aubrey, Whiskey Eyes is a hockey player, isn’t he? He must’ve been your client. What’d you say your guy’s name was? Brent, right? What’s his last name? I’m so Googling him once you’re in that shower.”
“No, don’t,” I plead.
And that confirms it for my sister. “Oh my God, you fell for your client. I knew it was bound to happen. I’m right, aren’t I?”
I sigh because, really, wait till she hears the rest. Like the part where she and I were at Brent’s party the day before I met him.
For now, though, I stick with, “That’s the short version, but yes, you’re right. I fell for a damn freaking client.”
The room’s filling with steam, so she points to the shower and says, “Get in there. I’ll put some clean clothes on the counter. But after you’re dressed you are so telling me every detail.”
I shouldn’t divulge anything, but I don’t care anymore. “Okay,” I agree. “We’ll talk when I’m done.”
When I emerge from the shower, there’s a pair of skinny jeans, a black tank with spaghetti straps, and a plaid button-down shirt waiting for me on the counter. The clothes are neatly stacked, and they’re in Al’s fuzzy green lap. Lainey has one of his long green arms positioned high in the air, like he’s waving at me.
It’s a silly but sweet gesture that brings a much-needed smile to my lips.
I blow-dry my hair and dress in the clothes Lainey set out. I even put in my contacts. Though they’re extended-wear, I haven’t worn them in days. I’ve been living in my glasses.
Finally feeling much better, and certainly much cleaner, I head down to the living room.
My sister, bless her heart, has cracked open a bottle of wine. I’m going to need some in order to tell her the whole Brent story.
“Here,” she says, holding out a full wineglass to me by the stem. “I poured one for you, already.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
I take the glass and sit down next to Lainey on the sofa. Her legs are curled up under her, so I follow suit. This is how we’ve hunkered down a million times, ready to dish. Only this time Lainey is one step ahead of me. She has her laptop open, and when I lean in to take a peek I see there’s a team pic of Brent filling the screen.
She taps the screen. “So it seems you’ve been holding out on me big-time, haven’t you? Brent Oliver is gorgeous, yes. And he was your client, yes. But there’s more. You never told me Whiskey Eyes is freaking Sunflower Eyes!”
“Um…” I take a small sip of wine. “I couldn’t say anything, remember?”
Lainey shakes her head. “Wow, still…the same guy from the party ends up being your client. That’s crazy. What are the odds of that happening?”
“Extremely low, I’m sure.”
“You must’ve died when you first saw him.”
“You don’t even know the half of it, Lainey.”
“Good thing he didn’t recognize you. You were so drunk that night.”
“Uh, who said he didn’t recognize me?” I mumble.
“What? How could that be? You never talked to him, at least not when I was there. Did you meet him before your Uber got there that night?”
Taking another tiny sip of wine, I smile to myself.
“Aubrey,” Lainey begins in her best warning tone. “What are you not telling me?”
I cock my head and roll my eyes up to the ceiling. Tapping my chin, I say all evasive-like, “Oh, I don’t know. I may have neglected to mention that I never left that night. And I may have kind of ended up in Brent’s bed.”
“Holy shit!” Her eyes, same turquoise color as mine, widen. “You slept with Sunflower Eyes that night?”
“No,” I clarify. “I passed out drunk in his bed and just happened to wake up next to him.”
“That must’ve been a sight,” Lainey says, chuckling. “Did you fall in love right then and there?”
“Hardly,” I scoff, recalling the encounter. “We kind of hated each other at first.” I can’t help but smile when I add, “I thought he had stolen my panties and called him out for being a sick pervert and a pig. He didn’t appreciate that very much.”
“How romantic,” my sister says dryly. “I can see how that all led to love.”
I throw a pillow at her. “You’re such a bitch.”
“And you’re such a slut.”
I laugh. “With him, you bet I am. Or…was.”
Her expression turns serious. “Seriously, Aubrey, what happened between you two? Why’d you break it off with him?”
“I’ll tell you everything, but first—” I pick up the bottle and swish around the pinot noir. “—I think we need more wine.”
By the time the pinot noir is empty, Lainey knows everything.
“There has to be a way for you to be together,” she says wistfully.
My sister, the romantic.
“I wish.” I sigh. “But the new contract with that addendum is pretty much airtight.”
“Yes, but…”
“What?”
Lainey taps her finger to her chin. I’ve seen that look before; she’s trying to find a way around this for me. “You mentioned that you only had to sign the addendum that day, right? The rest of the contract was just a copy of the original, not technically ‘new.’”
“Right.”
“Well, I happened to take a class in contract law this past semester. I took it as a business elective, thinking it’d be a breeze, but it was actually kind of tough. Anyway, the professor was super thorough.”
Lainey falls silent, and I have to prompt, “Okay? So how does your difficult class help with my situation?”
“Well, one of the things we studied was exactly what you said you signed. An addendum, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did their representative sign it, as well?” Lainey asks, wheels clearly turning.
I try to recall. “Hmm, come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing Mr. Dolby sign anything that day.”
“You should take a look at the paperwork, Aubrey. Our professor was clear that if an addendum isn’t signed by both parties it’s not enforceable. Everything reverts back to just the original contract.”
I jump up from the sofa. “Shit, Lainey. We have to find that addendum, like, right now. And not the digital one they e-mailed me. That’s just a copy from before we signed. I need to find the original from that day.”
“I’ll help you look for it,” she says, standing. “Just point me in the right direction.”
I stand up, bite my lip and glance around the room. “Where did I last see the damn thing? I think I saw it lying somewhere just the other day. I’ve been so damn disorganized lately. But the good news is I’m sure it’s somewhere in this place.”
I’m all set to begin the search, and so is Lainey, but just then the doorbell rings.
“Expecting someone?” she says.
I shake my head. “No.”
Since I’m just standing there like a goober, my thoughts on the contract and where it might be, my sister says, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”
When she opens the door, I can only see her. Part of a wall blocks the rest of my view, including who’s at the door.
“Who is it?” I yell when she continues to murmur with whoever is on the other side. If it’s a cute door-to-door sales
guy who has pulled her attention away from our task, she’s never going to hear the end of it.
I start over to her. “Come on, Lainey. You can flirt with men at your own damn pl—”
I’m silenced when the guy she’s talking to walks in. “Hey, Aubrey.”
“Brent?” He’s as hot as ever, but his expression is oh-so-broken. “What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly scared for him.
With a raw pleading in his voice, the likes of which I’ve never heard, he rasps, “I know I shouldn’t be here, and I know I have no right to ask anything of you. But damn it, I need you, babe.”
F*ck the Stupid Contract
I need her, and I’m not afraid to admit it. My dad’s life is on the line. Fuck the stupid contract.
Maybe Aubrey feels the same way, seeing as her sister seems to know who I am when she opens the door. On a side note, damn, she looks so much like Aubrey.
It’s a little odd, though, when she calls me “Sunflower Eyes” and not Brent.
Where the fuck did that come from?
She holds my gaze, staring deeply into my eyes, and then says, “Hmm, Aubrey is right. They are more of a whiskey shade.”
Alrighty then. Aubrey’s sister is obviously as quirky as Aubrey described her. She would be a great match for Benny. Or maybe she’d actually be a better fit with Nolan. God knows he needs someone to lighten his ass up. Plus, they have the sex toy connection, as in they both love them.
Oh well, too bad I’m not here for something as simple and lighthearted as matchmaking.
I step inside just as I see Aubrey coming to the door. My whole world stops. “Hey, Aubrey,” I so eloquently say.
“Brent?” she replies. “What’s wrong?”
“I know I shouldn’t be here, and I know I have no right to ask anything of you. But damn it, I need you, babe.”
I take a tentative step toward the woman I love and have missed like nobody’s business. “Did you hear what I just said?”
She looks at me, tears forming in her eyes, as she replies, “Yes. I heard you.”
“It’s my dad,” I go on, choking up. “He had a heart attack, Aubrey.”
“Oh my God, Brent—”
“He’s in a hospital right now, up in Minneapolis. He needs surgery, Aubs. They scheduled him in for the morning after tomorrow.” She closes her eyes, and I continue. “I’m not afraid to admit that I’m scared as hell. Please, babe, please come back with me to Minnesota.”
Opening her eyes and holding my gaze, she says, “Of course I’ll go back with you.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
We take each other in for this one long moment, and then we fall into each other’s arms.
“Brent, I want to be there for you.” She buries her nose in my neck and inhales me. “I’ve hated every day I’ve been away from you. I never knew I could miss someone this much.”
“I’ve missed you too, babe.” I hold onto her tightly, like if I don’t she may get away again. “God, it’s been hell.”
Nothing has ever felt as right as this does. We have to be destined to work this thing out, right? I tell myself we are and I already feel renewed, like I can now be strong for my dad.
Lainey helps Aubrey pack a few things, and then we’re off.
When we arrive in Minneapolis, it’s the middle of the night. The SUV I keep at the lake house is parked at the regional airport where I chartered the private jet that flew me to, and now us back from, Chicago.
As Aubrey and I walk across the tarmac, I ask her, “Are you okay with staying at my house out by the lake tonight?”
She takes me hand. “I’m more than okay with that.”
I stop and turn her to face me. I don’t want to make assumptions, not on this. “Aubrey, I know we still have a lot to talk about—”
She shushes me. “Brent, we’ll get to all that later. Let’s just focus on your dad’s surgery for now.”
I love her so much. “You’re right,” I say, nodding.
Back at my place, the mood shifts. As I carry in Aubrey’s bags, I sense mounting tension. I sure don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for, especially when we’ve not yet talked about where we stand.
At the base of the stairs, I set her bags on the floor.
Turning to her, I ask, “Um, do you want your own room?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. What do you want?”
“I want what’s most comfortable for you.”
“Brent”—she rolls her eyes—“that’s not an answer.”
“Neither was yours.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you got me there.”
“Seems neither of us knows what we want,” I say with a smile.
But she doesn’t agree. “No, Brent. I know what I want.” She blows out a breath. “It just feels weird, is all.”
“What?” I motion between our bodies. “Do you mean this unresolved stuff between us?”
“Well, there’s that, for sure. But there’s more to it.” She glances around. “Being back in this house, where it all began. It’s just a little overwhelming.”
I know exactly what she means. “Yeah, it feels like we’re back at the beginning, eh?”
She smiles and touches my arm. Shaking her head, she says, “I thought you were so hot when I first saw you at that party.”
I take a step toward her and tentatively place my hand on her hip. “I wanted you like crazy that morning in my bed.”
“More like you wanted to kill me,” Aubrey corrects, laughing.
“Not before I fucked the crap out of you.”
My eyes burn into hers, and she murmurs, “Brent…”
I pull her to me and whisper in her ear, “I still want you like crazy. Let me fuck you now… in this house… in the bed where it all began.”
I feel her melting, giving in. Yet still resisting. “A lot has happened since then, Brent.”
“Yeah, I know.” With my hands wrapped in her hair, I nudge her head back so I can kiss softly along her neck. “A lot,” I murmur against her soft skin. “Like me falling in love with you.”
And that’s when I feel her surrender.
Up in my bed, the same bed we woke up in four months ago, I lay her back gently.
And then I undress her.
When my own clothes are discarded, I lie down next to her.
There are kisses and there is laughter. There’s even a little awkwardness when I roll on top of her and slide an arm under her and her hair gets stuck.
“Ow, ow. Brent, hold up.”
“Oh shit, sorry.”
It’s back to smooth after that, especially when I slide into her. “God, fuck.”
She gasps.
And I thrust.
Again, again, one more time.
And then there’s more.
Shit, was it ever as good as it is right now?
“No, no, this is the best,” Aubrey pants.
Guess I asked that question out loud. But it’s true—this is incredible. I can’t get deeply enough inside her. And I can’t taste her enough times. I want to consume this woman I love. I literally need her to be a part of me. Because what if this is it? What if this is all a one-time shot?
We’ve discussed nothing. She’s here for me now because of my father. And sure, we’ve admitted we’ve missed each other, and there are still strong feelings between us, but once my dad’s better—and he must get better—this could all disappear.
And where would that leave me?
Woo Me, Brent. Woo Me
Despite everything going on in his life, Brent seems determined to woo me.
He cooks me breakfast the next morning and serves it to me up in bed.
“Sorry, babe,” he says as he places the tray of food on my lap. “All I had in the fridge that was even remotely breakfast-y were liquid egg whites, some assorted cheeses, and a couple of sweet peppers.”
It’s cute that he’s apologizing for making me a cheese and sweet pepper egg-white omelet. He
needn’t be, as this is what he eats back in Vegas. And I like this kind of healthy food too. It’s delicious.
“S’okay,” I murmur around a delectable bite. “This is awesome. Everything tastes really fresh.”
“You have my mom to thank for that,” he says, chuckling. “She somehow found time to sneak into my house and stock the fridge.”
“She sounds like a sweet mom,” I say softly.
“She’s amazing,” Brent agrees.
As I devour breakfast, I take note that Brent is already showered and ready to go. He looks great in his distressed jeans and a long-sleeved gray tee. It’s clear, and understandably so, that he wants to head over to the hospital as soon as possible.
I eat faster so we can hit the road.
A few minutes later, as I’m finishing with breakfast, I say, “Let me jump in the shower real fast. I can be ready to go in less than half an hour. Is that okay?”
“Perfect,” he replies.
We have so much to talk about, especially after last night, but the drive to the hospital doesn’t seem the place.
Outside his dad’s room, I meet his mom. She’s a beautiful lady—petite with whiskey-colored eyes—just like Brent—and long chestnut-brown hair.
“Mom, this is Aubrey,” Brent says with a big, beaming smile.
Placing her hand on my arm, she smiles warmly. “Ah, Aubrey… Brent’s told us so much about you. It’s good to finally meet you.” She sighs. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“Me too,” I reply. “But it’s still wonderful to meet you, as well.”
“Come, now.” She locks her arm with mine, and I like her already. She seems an easy person to be around. “You must meet Brent’s father.”
In his hospital room, I meet the famous Billy Oliver. He’s like an older version of Brent in many ways. They share the same strong facial features, though Mr. Oliver’s hair is much lighter, and he has a fair amount of gray at his temples. All in all, though, Brent is a perfect blend of his mother’s coloring and his dad’s face and build.
