“Are we really going there again?” he asks, clearly frustrated.
“Again? You never even gave me a chance to mention it the first time. Just leave me alone, Aaron. And I’d highly recommend you seek medical assistance, because you have a deluded mind.”
“Honey bunches,” Ada coos loudly. I look behind Aaron to find her strutting down the hallway wearing her famous Game of Thrones dressing gown and fluffy white cat slippers.
Aaron groans, cursing under his breath.
“Hi, Ada, how was your day?” I call sweetly.
“Oh, I had the poops earlier, but all is good. How was your day?” She winks as she steps closer, smacking Aaron on the arse.
He yelps, nearly falling to his knees before he uses the wall for balance. I laugh under my breath and high-five Ada whilst he isn’t looking.
“Oh brilliant. Eye opening,” I tell her, grinning wickedly.
“Experiences like paintballing can do that to you. And what’s up, my man? You ready for round two?” She winks at me, fingering the robe at her chest as she eyes him suggestively.
Aaron looks ready to hurl, making me love Ada all the more.
“I need to go,” he rushes out. “I’m sorry I have to rush off, Pagan, but I’ll make it up to you.”
“Please don’t.”
“See you.”
He gives Ada one last look before rushing off. Once he’s out of sight, we turn to each other and burst out laughing.
“I heard he passed out, the pansy.”
I giggle. “He did. No one knows it was you. They think it was me, even though I kept telling them it wasn’t. I’m pretty sure Drake believes he saw a real-life ninja.”
Ada cackles. “Oh, his face was priceless. I have it all recorded.”
“You recorded it?” I ask, shocked. “How?”
“I have my own gear, and it has a camera installed in the helmet. I’ll make a copy and send it to your email.”
“Definitely.” I grin. My dad is so going to love this. “I’ll text you my email later.”
She waves me off. “Already have it. I must be off. I have dinner with Pam and Adam. We’re going to scare the kids after.”
“Scare the kids?”
What kids?
“Jesse mentioned they were watching a horror movie, so Pam and I had an idea. We have some Halloween masks that will scare the daylights out of them.”
Laughing, I grab the wall for support. “You’re evil.”
She shrugs. “It’ll toughen them up. We mostly want to scare Angela though.”
“Why?” I ask, still laughing.
“Emily made her lunch earlier and because it wasn’t to her standards, Angela threw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits. Me? I would’ve tanned her hide, but my poor Emily was scared out of her mind.”
I want in on what she has planned. “Why on earth would she do that to poor Emily? She’s tiny and the kindest person to everyone, even when they’re rude. Has she informed Pam?”
“It was Pam who came to me. Luckily I’d just come out of the bathroom and changed out of my gear when she walked in. It was a close call. My Pam doesn’t like conflict. She’s always been kind-hearted, ever since she was a baby. Sometimes, something will push her to the brink, but with the wedding so close, she doesn’t want anything to ruin it. She’s worried Angela will take it out on Amelia, so she called in the big guns.”
“I thought she asked you for help?” I ask, dumbfounded.
She gives me a dry look. “I am the big gun.”
I grin. “But scaring the others doesn’t seem fair. She needs something done to her. In fact, I have an idea. They’re all meeting for drinks in the garden room, aren’t they?”
She eyes me warily. “Yeah, they are. Why?”
“Go find Angela. Tell her they’re meeting outside. Drake’s roof is above the patio.”
“I’m not following. What are you going to do?”
She says it like I’m a measly child. I grin. “You gave me a box, remember? I’ve got bangers and water balloons left. I’m going to fill them with flour and water.”
She grins, her eyes sparkling. “Oh my. Let me get Pam in on this. You go get the supplies and I’ll meet you upstairs in thirty minutes.”
*** *** ***
“I’m not sure about this,” Pam whispers, looking over the side of the balcony once again.
Drake chuckles, winking at me. “Mum, she’s never going to know it was us. I promise.”
“But it’s mean, isn’t it?”
Ada scoffs, bringing the last of the balloons inside. She insisted on filling them up, I’ve suddenly realised why—she’s filled them with dye of some sort. I don’t say anything, knowing Pam will back out if she knows about it. When I eye the bags of flour, I have to bite my lip from asking her what she has planned.
“Pammy, do you remember the look on Emily’s face? The tears that ran down her cheeks and how distraught she was to have her first complaint? Are you going to let her down, let the team down, for some uppity little wench?”
I watch in amazement as Pam’s back straightens and her shoulders roll back. A look of determination takes over her face as she crosses the small balcony to the bucket of water bombs. She grabs one, then looks at her mother with all seriousness. “I can do this. Nobody messes with my staff and lives to tell the tale. Emily’s been good to us. She helped raise my sons. How dare she insult her.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ada cheers, grabbing a few of her own.
Drake moves closer. “Um, Grams, are they―”
“Shush now, my boy. It’s grown-up time,” Ada snaps, gazing over the edge.
“But I think you’ve filled them―”
“I said shush. I think I hear her coming.”
“How?” Pam whispers, looking to her mother.
“Instincts.”
Drake and I stare at each other before finally giving in and shrugging. We carry the bombs over to the wall and take our own balloons.
“Here, you do these. I’ll do the bombs,” I tell him, handing him the bangers.
“No, I’ll do the bombs. I have better aim.”
He tries to take the bomb off me but I pull it back, frowning. “No, I’ll do it. I want to, please.”
“No, I’ll do it. You’ll completely miss and it’ll be a waste of a bomb.”
We play tug of war on the balloon before it bursts, landing mostly on Drake’s clean shirt and my feet. I gasp, covering the giggle with my hand.
He narrows his eyes on me. “Seriously?”
“Sorry?”
“You don’t look it,” he states dryly.
I wink. “Really.”
His lips twist into amusement and he shakes his head. “Cute. You’re fucking cute. Let’s just do them together, okay?”
“Okay, here.”
He grins, taking them from me, and I fight hard not to laugh at the sight of him.
“On three,” Ada orders sternly, a bomb in one hand and a bag of flour in the other. I giggle, earning a glare from her. “One, two, three.”
We all stand up and Pam, being Pam, screams as she throws her balloon down. Angela’s eyes widen, but before she can move, the ground around her is popping from the bangers, making her jump and scream. And when the first balloon hits, her wails turn into screeches of horror before she’s choking on flour.
Her hair is matted down the front of her face, covered in blue, green, yellow and red dye mixed with flour. Ada doesn’t give her chance to recover before she’s aiming more bombs her way. We all follow and, to my amusement, Pam’s giggling like a schoolgirl, throwing more and more until we run out. I’m about to throw the last of the bangers, but heads popping out from the side door grab my attention. As one, they all look up, and a startled scream escapes me before I dive to the floor.
The floor isn’t what I land on though—it’s Drake. He grins up at me, his eyes glowing. “Miss me?”
“They’re outside,” I whisper-hiss, wiggling.
&nbs
p; He groans. “Don’t move on me like that with my mother and Grams about.”
Since he sounds pained, I do it again, giggling at his expression. “Sorry.”
“We have to go. We need to get downstairs so we don’t get accused,” Ada orders.
Still lying on Drake, I turn their way, Drake following with narrowed eyes.
“So you’re going to lay the blame on us?”
Ada looks at me like I’m stupid. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d run too. But you look comfy.” Then she grins, winking at me.
“Shit. We need to go,” Drake says as Angela screams that she’s going to kill whoever’s up here.
My eyes widen and I burst into laughter before struggling to get up. “Grab the film. We can watch it in your room.”
“If you wanted in my bed so badly, you should’ve just asked me, sweetheart.”
I growl, then point to my left. “They abandoned us. We need to go and make it look like we had nothing to do with it.”
He frowns, noticing they’ve gone for the first time, then looks down. “I have dye all over my shirt,” he screeches, sounding like a girl.
Clutching my belly from laughing so hard, I try to tell him it’s fine, but it’s not. Not only does he have it on his shirt, but I have it on my knees and toes. There’s no way we’ll get away with it if they see us.
“Grab the drinks from the fridge and some snacks, quick,” he rushes out.
He doesn’t bother to look at what films he grabs before we both head downstairs. We barely make it to his door when we hear everyone running up the stairs after Angela, who’s screaming like a banshee.
The door slams shut behind us and all I can hear is our heavy breathing. Drake’s phone going off breaks through the silence and he walks over to his bed, picking it up. He grins before typing back.
“What?” I ask, walking over.
“Jesse took a picture of Angela and posted it on his Facebook. He tagged me in it.” He laughs, still typing away.
I take the phone from him. My laugh is loud and hard, and a snort escapes. In the photo, Angela’s covered in red dye and flour, but it’s the furious expression on her face that has me doubling over. It’s mid-scream, and I can actually see the veins in her neck and temples, she’s that mad.
“Oh my God. I can’t breathe,” I wheeze.
He’s laughing too as he pulls me down onto the bed, laying us back before manoeuvring so he’s draped over me, keeping his weight off me. “This has been the best week of my life. And it’s all because of you.”
My laughter fades and a shy smile reaches my lips as I blush. “Thank you. It’s been mine too. Thank you.”
His smile is warm as he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. In a blink, his lips are seductively brushing against mine, once, twice, before he pulls back, staring down at me longingly. Unable to help myself, I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling his lips down to mine.
I thread my fingers through his short hair, pressing my body closer, desperate for more. He drops his weight on me and I welcome it, loving the feel of his hard body pressing between my thighs.
This is a kiss most women fantasise about having, and I have no doubt that Drake is one of only a few men who can pull it off.
I want more—no, need more. I need him.
I’m about to open my mouth to tell him just that when the door bursts open and a throat clears.
We pull apart and turn to the door, my cheeks heating at Jesse’s amused expression as he leans against the doorframe.
“Sorry to interrupt your… um… whatever this is.” He grins, gesturing to our very compromising position. I quickly jump up from the bed, hoping I don’t look guilty.
“We… I―”
“Go away,” Drake snaps, saving me from embarrassing myself further.
“Love to, but Angela is on a mission for your balls. She’s two seconds away from finding out the attic is yours and will be on her way here. I came to warn you.”
“Why would she care if the attic’s mine?” Drake asks, sounding casual. My face heats further and I have to gaze down at the floor to hide my smirk.
“Well, can you believe she got attacked by dye bombs and flour? She’s currently covered in it from head to toe. She just had a facial, massage, and other things done, so she’s seriously pissed.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
Jesse clears his throat, eyeing Drake up and down, and starts chuckling. “Bro, you’re covered in fucking dye.”
He looks down. “Shit.”
“Drake Donovan!” Angela screams from down the hallway.
Drake and I turn to each other with wide eyes. He launches himself at me, whipping his shirt off on the way before grabbing me around the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.
“Drake!” I yell, slapping his bare, muscled back. “Put me down.”
“No.” I watch as he kicks his top under the bed before throwing me in it.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, he jumps on top of me and pulls the covers over us before slamming his lips down on mine in a hungry kiss. I try to pull away but he growls deep in his throat, stopping me.
“Ew, gross,” Angela hisses. I try to shift but Drake pins me in place, continuing his assault.
“Do you mind?” Drake asks casually, looking over his shoulder. “I’m busy.”
I punch his shoulder. “Drake!”
“Clearly, and with the help,” she replies snottily. “And Jesse, does Amelia know you like to watch your brother fornicate with the help?”
“Fornicate?” Jesse chokes out.
“Fornicate,” I mouth to Drake, who’s trying to hold back his laughter.
“Whatever,” Angela huffs. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. Obviously Drake didn’t do this to me.”
I listen to her footsteps fade away before glaring at Drake. “Really? You manhandled me into bed so she wouldn’t question you?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” His gaze shifts to my lips. “And you needed to cover your legs.”
I shake my head, ready to hand him his balls, but footsteps coming towards the room stop me. I start to squirm underneath him, praying they don’t walk in. “Oh my God, move. People are coming.”
“Stop squirming, you’re making it—”
“Hard?” Jesse chokes out, laughing.
Drake ignores him, as do I. “Get off me.”
“But we were having so much fun.” He smirks down at me, his dark eyelashes fanning his cheeks.
My eyes narrow. “Arsehole.” I pinch his nipple, making him curse.
“Aw, we’re having a sleepover,” Amelia squeals as she and the others pile into the room.
Having no choice but to let me push him off, Drake falls to the floor as Alison eyes me, grinning and mouthing “Hot” with a wink.
“We’re not having a sleepover,” Drake growls, clearly frustrated.
“But you have the movies and snacks,” Amelia points out just as Gabriella and Harmony drag two beanbags into the room.
“Movie time,” Gabriella squeals, flopping down.
Alison comes to sit next to me on the bed as Drake takes the other side, pouting. But as I look around the room at the people I now call friends, I can’t find it in me to complain. I’ve grown close to each and every one of them.
Though I had been excited about enjoying a night alone with Drake.
Maybe tomorrow.
“We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispers, dropping back against his pillows with a sigh.
I smile, hoping he keeps that promise.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The night before last, Drake woke me at three in the morning after a night of watching dreadful horror movies with the others, having been called into work. I presumed he was in for the day, but when he still hadn’t returned to the manor two days later, I was beginning to worry.
“Hey, Ada, can I… um, what are you doing?” I ask, worr
ied about her mental stability.
“Being tortured,” she snaps.
“With knitting needles?”
“Yes.” Her harsh glare has me moving back a step.
“Um, can I ask why?”
“Because,” she drags out, her voice full of sarcasm, “Pammy found my paintballing gun in the shed.” I’m shocked to say the least. I thought Ada would cover her tracks better. “I forgot to clean a splatter off my suit.”
“Sooo you’re knitting because she found your stuff?”
“Not by choice. If I want to go the bachelorette party, I have to show my Pammy that I can do something people my age do. She handed me these.” She throws the offending objects on the table next to her. “I’d rather stab my eyeballs with those needles than try to knit again.”
“Okay.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Drake said to tell you his battery went. And because he’s stuck in the new ways, he just programs a number into his phone and never looks at it again, so he couldn’t ring you from another phone. He wanted you to know he’ll be back later and to wear something nice.”
“Something nice?” I repeat, though I’m relieved that he’s okay.
“Don’t you have anything nice? I can lend you my―”
“Nope, it’s fine,” I interrupt. “I’ll let you get back to… yeah, I need to go. Speak to you later.”
Rushing away, I head upstairs to find Alison before Ada forces me to wear one of her outfits. She’s been avoiding Angela since yesterday when they had their dress fitting, and I don’t blame her. Angela had been a nightmare, acting like a disobedient child.
“Pagan!”
My groan is audible as I turn around to find Aaron walking towards me. “Aaron.”
“We need to talk about the bachelor party,” he tells me matter-of-factly.
“We do?” I ask, confused. The bachelor party is already planned. They’re going out in the day to watch a tennis tournament―boring, I know―and then they’re off to some high-end club where they’ve rented a private room with a bar. Jesse asked for a live band to play, since they’re his favourite, so I can’t possibly fathom what could need discussing about it.
“Yes!” he says curtly, the pleading Aaron I’ve grown accustomed to over the past several days now gone. “You need to book strippers.” Stunned, I can only stare as he continues. “None of this pansy band shit.”
Wishing For A Happily Ever After (I Wish Book 2) Page 16
