Until Fountain Bridge: (InterMix)

by Samantha Young

  The word “familial” pushed that little button inside of me. I gave him an icy glare and said, “You’re not my brother, Adam. Stop acting like it.”

  I felt a slash of pain across my chest at the hurt expression in his eyes, guilt instantly making me want to cry even more. “I know that, Ellie.”

  Our eyes met, and my skin instantly began to flush. “Do you?” I murmured breathily.

  Something flickered in his gaze and he stood up, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I’ll leave you alone for a bit. I just wanted you to know I would never intentionally hurt you.”

  When I didn’t say anything, Adam exhaled wearily and left.

  As he was closing my door, I heard Braden’s voice right outside it. “She okay?”

  “She’s pissed off. Let’s just leave her alone for a while.”

  “I want to speak to her.”

  “Braden—”

  “I’ll get you downstairs,” Braden said, cutting him off. He opened my door, let himself in, and closed it behind him when he stepped inside. Braden’s concerned eyes locked on me as he strode toward my bed.

  “Els, sweetheart,” his voice was slightly gruff as he sat down. “I’m so sorry.”

  I immediately burst out crying and launched myself against his chest, and let his strong arms hold me tight and his soothing murmurs calm me.

  Chapter 3

  “You forgave Braden?” Adam frowned, holding the diary out to me.

  I shrugged, took it back, and put it down next to the one from the year I was fourteen. “You hurt me more. Not intentionally of course, but I wanted you to see me as a woman not a girl.”

  Adam gave me a look that suggested I was daft. “You were a girl. You were fifteen.”

  “So you never saw me that way then? Not that night . . . in my short dress,” I teased.

  “Not then,” he admitted softly, as if worried he’d hurt my feelings. “You were still Braden’s wee sister then.”

  I wasn’t hurt. I had retrospect on my side and frankly I’d find it somewhat concerning if Adam had fancied my lanky, flat-chested fifteen-year-old self. Still, I was curious. “When did it change for you?”

  “I’m not telling . . . ”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a guy thing that you won’t get and it’ll probably piss you off.”

  Now I was definitely intrigued. “I won’t get annoyed. Just tell me. Please,” I begged sweetly.

  “Fine.” He eyed me warily. “It was the morning after your eighteenth birthday.”

  My eyes widened as I tried to remember. Seriously?

  “The morning on which you owe so casually told me you’d just lost your virginity.”

  That was the moment he realized he had feelings for me? Jeez . . . Joss was right. Guys could be such cavemen. As that morning came back to me in vivid detail, I let out a little laugh. I realized that Adam had been jealous. Wow. That was not how it had appeared to me at the time. “I knew you were mad at me, but I thought it was another overprotective ‘big brother’ moment.”

  “Nope.” Adam shook his head grimly, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “It was an ‘I’m looking at my best friend’s wee sister who’s just told me she had sex for the first time and I can see her kiss-bruised mouth and her bed hair and I’m getting fucking turned on’ moment.” His eyes locked on my mouth as he remembered. “My body reacted to what you’d said before my brain did. I suddenly wondered what your lips felt like, how you’d taste, what it would feel like to have your long legs wrapped around my back as I thrust into you . . .” I squirmed, feeling my skin heat up as I pictured Adam thinking those very appealing thoughts so long ago when I hadn’t had a clue. “Then I got pissed off—at myself for feeling that way about you. And then at the guy for having tasted you. And then at you . . . for letting him taste you.”

  Our eyes locked and I felt my breathing grow shallow.

  I knew if I didn’t say something else we’d end up making love in his spare room before we could finish our trip down memory lane and frankly I was enjoying the trip. I cleared my throat, grabbed another diary, and started to flip through it.

  I found the entry I was looking for and handed it to Adam. “You should know,” I murmured softly, “That it all comes back to you.”

  Sunday, April 30th

  I lost my virginity last night. To Liam. It wasn’t how I’d wanted it to be. It hadn’t been with who I wanted it to be. It hadn’t been with someone I loved like I’d always promised myself it would be. And it hurt, at first. And then it didn’t. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all. But something else hurt last night and unlike sex, it didn’t stop hurting. It hasn’t stopped hurting . . .

  The ballroom at the Marriott Hotel was absolutely packed. As I looked around, I realized that there were people there that I didn’t even know.

  Still, it was some turnout, and Allie had pronounced my eighteenth birthday party a total success—and it wasn’t even over yet. Braden had booked the room at the hotel as well as a DJ and caterer. My family had invited more relatives, as well as some friends who invited their friends, and I invited my friends who invited their friends, who seemed to have invited their friends. It was crowded, the buffet was almost completely picked over, and the dance floor was full.

  I watched catering staff come out of the back room with fresh trays of food and I scowled as one of the pretty girls was stopped by Adam as she passed. Whatever he said made her laugh and tilt her head flirtatiously. I watched them, ignoring the burn of jealousy in my throat.

  “Have I told you tonight how sexy you look?”

  I was pulled backward into a warm body. I lifted my chin and turned my head slightly to look up into Liam Fenton’s handsome face. He was smiling down at me, his eyes glittering a little. He was buzzed, but not drunk like Adam who’d started “getting happy” an hour before the party even started. As per usual, he’d turned up alone. From the cracks I’d heard Braden making for years, Adam was a total player and I’d never met a single girl he’d dated—probably because he didn’t actually “date.”

  Liam, on the other hand, appeared to be trying to keep his wits about him. I think I knew why. He was nineteen, a student at Napier University, and we’d met when I’d toured the campus the previous year. We’d kept in touch, emailing back and forth, until Liam—seemingly out of the blue—asked me out on a date. We’d messed around a little bit (and he’d given me my first orgasm), but I’d been reluctant to have sex with him. I’d filled my head with so many romance novels and movies, I was convinced that my first time would be with someone I was in love with. Although I liked Liam and I was attracted to him, I wasn’t in love with him yet. However, I think he thought because I’d turned eighteen that tonight was going to be the night. I’d assumed that was why he was trying to stay as sober as possible.

  I felt a little nervous about how I was going to dissuade him of that notion.

  Smiling up at him, I gave him a shy nod. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

  Liam grinned, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “It’s worth mentioning more than once. Every guy in here thinks I’m a lucky bugger, and they’d be right.”

  His lips touched mine and it was nice. Really nice. But since my first kiss with Pete Robertson at a Friday bowling night with friends a few months after my disastrous date with Sam, I’d never felt what all the romance books talked about. I’d kissed five guys since then, and not one of those kisses made my skin hot and my body vibrate and my stomach flutter. I was beginning to think romance novels might be leading me astray . . . .

  “Don’t mean to interrupt, but I’d like a dance with the birthday girl.”

  I immediately broke away from Liam at the sound of Adam’s voice and turned around to find him standing in front of me, giving Liam a “you have five seconds to get your hands off her before I break your face” look. It had been two and a half years since I started dating, and Adam and Braden still rejoiced in scaring the crap out of my boyfr
iends. Thankfully, Liam didn’t scare easily.

  He squeezed my hips. “I’ll go get you another drink. I’ll be over with Allie and the guys.”

  I nodded at him, watching him saunter away through the crowd.

  A warm hand on my wrist drew my gaze back. Adam was grinning at me as he pulled me into him. As soon as my body brushed his, I felt that familiar tingling again—the feeling centered between my legs as Adam’s arm caught me around the waist; his other hand caught my hand and laid it against his chest. I rested my other hand on his shoulder and swayed with him to the music. Being this close kind of hampered my breathing and I tried very hard not to let him see that. His fingertips brushed the bottom of my back and since I was wearing a backless dress it was a skin-to-skin touch. My body reacted to it in a way I recognized, and I ducked my head, unable to look at him.

  I’d been in Liam’s dorm room two weeks ago and we’d been making out and touching. The touching got a little more involved than I was used to, but I was curious so when he slid his hand under my skirt and pushed his fingers under my underwear to touch me, I’d almost fallen off the bed. I felt it between my legs and I felt it in my breasts. He’d settled a thumb on my clit and played me as my body slowly started to fracture until it eventually broke into this amazingly pleasurable explosion.

  Adam didn’t even need to put a hand between my legs. All he needed to do was touch me, and those familiar tingles would vibrate throughout me.

  “Enjoying your birthday?”

  I turned to gaze at him, my face close to his. I was five foot nine so usually only a couple inches shorter than Adam, but that night I was wearing four-inch heels so I was actually just little bit taller than him. He gave me a quick once-over and grinned, shaking his head as I replied, “Yeah, it’s been good.”

  “Have you opened any presents yet?”

  “No. I was going to later, but I think everyone is a bit too drunk to care. Including you.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’ve got a buzz going, that’s all.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not drunk are you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Adam, I’m legally allowed to drink now.”

  “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “I’ve had a couple of shots.”

  We were quiet a moment and I actually allowed myself to relax against him. That was until he flexed his fingers against my back and an involuntary shiver rippled over me. Adam tensed, as if he’d felt my reaction, and I quickly looked at his face for confirmation. His dark eyes glittered in a way I’d never seen before.

  My mouth felt dry.

  He studied me a moment and I found myself pressed even tighter against him. My fingers curled into his shoulder. His next words almost blew me off my feet. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Els,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

  My eyes opened wide with shock at his announcement, my heart began to thud inside my chest. Adam thought I was beautiful? No, not just beautiful: The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  Wow.

  My chest began to rise and fall a little more rapidly. “Adam . . .” I replied softly, unsure whether he meant that in a strictly platonic sense or if he was finally opening his eyes up to see I wasn’t a little girl anymore.

  “I worry about you all the time,” he confessed. “You’re so sweet and kind—too kind sometimes. I worry someone will hurt you and I won’t be there to stop it.”

  It was true that I had a tendency to look for the best in everyone, and I had a bit of a hero complex (I wonder where I’d picked that up from), but I wasn’t incompetent. And I was a woman now. I could take care of myself, and I told him so.

  Adam frowned. “That’s not what I mean. You get a lot of male attention, Ellie, and sometimes it’s difficult to weed out the wankers. For instance, the guy you came with tonight. He flirts a lot . . . with everything that has tits and a pair of long legs.”

  Glowering at the insult to Liam, I tried to press back. “Liam is a nice guy.”

  “Liam is after one thing. I should know—”

  “Right, you’ve been hogging her enough.” Braden was suddenly standing beside us, grinning. “I want a dance with the birthday girl.”

  Adam tightened his hold on me and then as if it had just occurred to him what he was doing, he threw Braden a smile and let me go. We shared one last look and then he was gone and I was in Braden’s arms.

  What the hell had just happened? Had Adam Sutherland . . . Was he? . . . Was that more than friendly advice? The way he touched me, the things he’d said, the way he’d looked at me. It had felt different. My heart was racing, a bubble of giddy hope starting to float up inside of me. Poor Liam was forgotten as I let myself be distracted by my own longing and fantasies.

  “I’m proud of you,” Braden told me gruffly, bringing me out of my head where I was already picking wedding dresses and deciding who would be my maid of honor.

  I smiled at my big brother, curious about his declaration. “What for?”

  “For many reasons. For getting into Edinburgh Uni. For taking care of Elodie and Clark, and for being a good sister to Hannah and Dec. And for being a great wee sister to me. It’s been a tough year, Els, and I’m grateful for all your help.”

  I hugged him close for a second, my heart hurting all over again for him. After falling for and marrying his Australian wife, Analise, Braden had filed for divorce when he walked in on her and his old school friend having sex in one of Braden’s empty developments in New Town. The bitch had put him through the ringer for the last nine months of his marriage and then she’d cheated on him with his friend. It was the ultimate betrayal. Worse, our dad had been the one who’d cottoned onto it and he’d set Braden up to find the traitorous couple. That was dad’s way. Rather than pulling his son aside and letting him down easy, he let Braden walk right into it. Braden didn’t seem to mind. It surprised me that Braden was actually grateful to our father. I, on the other hand, thought he was an insensitive arsehole.

  As if he’d read my mind, Braden sighed. “Dad’s sorry he couldn’t be here, Ellie. I’m sorry too.”

  “Don’t apologize for him.” I turned my face away, and looked up at the ceiling to try to stop the tears. You would think after eighteen years of complete neglect I’d be over the hurt. Unfortunately, the hurt never went away. I just couldn’t understand what Douglas found so unlovable about me, or why he deliberately shunned me time and time again. It was my eighteenth birthday for God’s sake, and he couldn’t get up off his rich arse for half an hour to pop in and wish me a happy birthday.

  I heard Braden curse under his breath. He had a fairly good relationship with our dad, and I didn’t want to be the cause of any problems between them, so I gave him a squeeze and smiled at him. “I’m fine. I’m more than fine. I’m surrounded by friends and family who care about me, Braden. And that’s all I care about.”

  We shared a hug and the music changed to something more up-tempo again, and Mum and Clark descended on us.

  I had a dance with the two of them, giggling as they pulled out moves that hadn’t been seen in at least two decades.

  As the night continued on, I mingled with friends and family, but my eyes kept wandering through the crowd in an attempt to find Adam again. My stomach was a riot of butterflies, and I couldn’t get his voice out of my head.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Els,”

  I was with Allie and Liam, watching them laughing away, but I had no idea what the conversation was about. My head was stuck in rewind.

  When the room began to feel too hot, I ordered a bottle of water from the bar and slipped out of the back of the room and found an exit. It was the fire door that led out to the back of the hotel where all the rubbish bins were stored. I stepped outside quietly, sucking in a huge gulp of air and enjoying the peace. It could give me a moment to wrap my head around what had happened—and if what I thought had happened had actually happened.

  I felt a giddy smile start to stretch
my lips when a grunt followed by a moan made me freeze. The large bins were situated between me and an alcove of the building, and the sounds were coming from there. My heart picked up a little bit as I guessed what the sounds meant and what I’d stumbled upon. When another grunt sounded, I covered my mouth with my hand to keep in the giggle that was threatening to erupt.

  “Yes,” a female voice groaned. “Adam, oh, my God.”

  The giggle instantly died as blood rushed in my ears. I felt a burn in the bottom of my throat as some dark, masochistic thing inside of me made me tiptoe around the bins.

  All the hope I’d been feeling exploded and disintegrated all around me.

  As I watched Adam screw one of the female catering staff against a brick wall, I realized what an idiot I was. What a childish, naive idiot.

  And then the anger settled in. And the frustration. And the thought that somehow I wasn’t good enough—not good enough for Adam; not good enough for my father.

  My eyes narrowed. There was one person who thought I was good enough, so what was I holding out for? For flowers and sonnets and a man on bended knee? That wasn’t going to happen. This was reality. Sex was sex. There was nothing magical about it.

  Clearly.

  I wasn’t naturally an angry person, but the burn of jealousy coursed through my veins and I turned silently back to the hotel. As soon as I was inside, the image of Adam moving against the catering girl kept flashing before my eyes. I felt sick. Chugging back more water, I made a decision. I needed to wipe that image out of my brain.

  I found Clark talking to his brother in the ballroom. Thankfully, Mum wasn’t anywhere to be seen, because what I was going to ask she’d probably not be happy about.

  “Els, what do you want to do with all these presents?” He asked, pointing to a table that had been set up at the back.

  “Can I ask you and Mum a big favor?”

  He smirked, guessing what that favor was. “You want us to take the presents back home for you?”