It Ended With the Truth

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It Ended With the Truth Page 8

by Lisa Suzanne


  I can’t stop my brain from the image of me bending that sweet ass over the bar and driving into her.

  I’m just horny. It’s been over months since I’ve been with a woman. I haven’t had a drought this long since...well, since before I started having sex.

  I miss the soft feel of skin beneath my fingertips, the curves and the warmth, the scent of roses and...

  I shake my head to try to get the image of Vivian out. I should be fantasizing about the bartender with the great ass, not about the woman who broke my heart.

  I pull out my phone to look busy, but I realize that’s not the way to make my own life. I slide my phone back into my pocket just as the bartender makes her way over to me, and when our eyes meet, I let out a little puff of air as all the blood drains from my face.

  “Kendra,” I whisper.

  “Oh my God,” she says. “What are you doing here?”

  Of all the establishments where I could grab a glass of whiskey in the entire world, somehow I ended up in the one bar in Hollywood where my ex-girlfriend is serving drinks.

  “I was just leaving.” I stand and turn, but she stops me with a hand on my arm.

  “Wait,” she says. She glances behind her, and that’s when I notice another bartender, this one a dude, making his way toward her.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  She nods. “I need a five-minute break.”

  “Go ahead,” he says.

  “Come with me,” Kendra says. A quick war wages in my brain. It’s not quite the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other. It’s more like the angry, cuckolded beast on one side and the horny, aroused animal on the other.

  In the end, neither side can possibly win because this can’t end any other way aside from disappointment.

  But, even knowing that, I follow her anyway.

  We end up in a small back room. An employee only single stall bathroom sits behind the door on the right, an office sits behind the door on the left, and a third door straight ahead has a green Exit sign above it. It’s all gray cement back here, decorated only with the messy stacks of bottles and cans and glasses and napkins all around us.

  “What do you want?” I ask on a frustrated sigh once we’re in the quiet of the back room.

  “Did you come here for me?” she asks softly.

  My brows draw down harshly. “Are you crazy?”

  She lifts a shoulder and huffs out a laugh. “Maybe. Probably.”

  “I didn’t even know you lived out here.”

  She nods. “I moved out here a few days after we ended things.”

  After we ended things. That’s a real nice way of saying she fucked my brother while I was out working and left me completely heartbroken with the sort of damaging aftershocks that still affect how I function three years later.

  I press my lips together but don’t respond. Something deep down tells me she didn’t move out here to get away from me or the life we built in Chicago. I’d put money on the fact that she knew my brother had a place here and she came to Los Angeles to get her shot with him.

  “There was nothing left in Chicago for me if I didn’t have you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Are you fucking serious right now? You used me for an entire year so you could get to my brother. If you think it ended for any other reason than that, you’re delusional.”

  “I loved you, Brian. What I did was wrong, but I—”

  I cut her off. “No. You don’t get to pout and try to defend what you did. You’re right. It was wrong. End the sentence there.”

  She blows out a breath. “I thought you came here for me. I thought you missed me like I miss you.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t and I don’t.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I live in LA now. Well, Malibu. I’m working at my brother’s record label.”

  I don’t miss the little flare that lights up her eyes at the mention of my brother. “What happened to FDB?” she asks, and I know exactly what she’s doing.

  “None of your business.”

  She blows out a breath. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Brian. We can still be friends.”

  “You had sex with my brother while I was in the next room!” I explode. “I don’t want to be your friend!”

  “You were always so passionate. Always had such a fire under you.” She takes a step toward me, and now I know she really is actually insane. She reaches out to me and runs a fingertip down the front of my shirt and stops it just shy of my pants, her eyes following its path. Then she looks up at me from under lowered lashes.

  As much as I fucking hate this woman and how she broke me, I can’t help my body’s reaction to her. My dick springs to life, pressing against the tight confines of my pants.

  I loved her.

  Once upon a time, I wanted to spend my life with her.

  I don’t anymore, but the feelings I once had start to swirl in the pit of my stomach. The attraction is still there, intense as ever and making me think things I have no business thinking. Making me want things I have no business wanting.

  Just one night. For old time’s sake. What would it hurt?

  It would give me what I need for the time being, a woman beneath me and the relief that comes with a good fuck. It would release all the tension. No one would get hurt because we’re not in a relationship anymore. The sex with her was always top notch. We already know each other’s bodies, so there won’t be any of that awkward fumbling around as we get into a rhythm. It’ll be like riding a bike, only it’ll be Kendra riding my cock.

  I take a menacing step toward her as I close the gap between us. I grab her biceps in my fists. She’s somehow even thinner now than when we were together, and my fist encircles her entire upper arm.

  I draw up every ounce of strength I have when I finally say, “I didn’t come here for you.” I widen the gap between us again as I push her away. I release her arms. “It’s purely a coincidence, and I’m leaving now.”

  I step around her and head toward the door with the green Exit sign illuminated above it.

  “Don’t go.” Her voice is weak behind me, a frail attempt to get me to do whatever she wants so she can use me to get to Mark again.

  Her two words nearly do the trick. I almost turn around, but I know if I look one more time into her dark eyes and at her beautiful, devil face, I’ll do something I will only regret in the end.

  I take the right road. It’s the only road with light on it in this dark night.

  “I have to,” I say, and then I shove the door open and swallow in gulps of the warm August night air as I try to regain some semblance of balance after that encounter.

  chapter eleven

  Several weeks later, I’m sitting with Keith in the office Mark secured for me at Ashmark. “We need to finish the advancing and collate the final tour book,” Keith says. Advancing, as Keith calls it, basically means double checking every single detail related to the tour to make sure everything is properly set into place. We’ve got a month until our first tour stop, and it feels like a never-ending list of things to accomplish before we go.

  I glance at the checklist in front of me. “I’ve confirmed with the first eight venues, added contact names and numbers, and cross-checked arrival, load-in, sound check, and performance times for each of them. I also confirmed accommodations for the first eight cities. Confirmation numbers are listed on the itinerary for each city.”

  Keith glances at me with a look of appreciation. “Well done, Mr. Fox.”

  I lift a shoulder from the seat across from him behind a desk that’s mine even though the office belongs to my brother. He decided I needed a more permanent setup for discussing tour details behind closed doors once I agreed to split managing duties with Keith, and it helps to have a quiet space for the analytics part of my job as well. “I learned from the best,” I say.

  He holds his hands up as if to tell me to stop with the compliments. “I’ve been doing this a lot of years,
and it’s hard to hand it off to someone else, no matter how temporary it might be.”

  “You can have it back when you’re ready.” I tap the rubber eraser of the pencil I’m holding on the table in front of me. “I never knew how much work went into managing a tour before it even got off the ground.”

  “Even more behind the scenes stuff I haven’t talked about yet,” he says. “Let’s focus ahead. We’ve got thirteen more to confirm. I’ve got the crew booked out and contracts signed. Buses are ready to go. Mark said they’re working on last minute rider details and I’ll have you shoot those off to the venues as soon as we have them.”

  “I’ll get to work on the final thirteen venues today. I should have it done by the end of the week.”

  Keith nods. “Perfect. Thanks for taking this on.”

  I press my lips together in a non-smile. “It’s a welcome change of focus for me.”

  “For me, too. My life at home is all which diapers are the best and look at this cute onesie, let’s get two.”

  I chuckle as he mimics his wife out of love. “Pampers,” I say.

  He shoots me a confused look.

  “Pampers are the best. They’re the ones Mark and Reese use for Ashton, and if I know those two, I know they’ll only get the very best.” I actually don’t personally know if they’re the best since I’ve not had the pleasure of changing a diaper even once in my life—and I have no desire to—but I offer the nugget of information anyway.

  He chuckles and stands. “Can’t argue there. I’ll tell Molly about the Pampers, then.”

  “Same time next week?” I ask as he approaches the door.

  “Yeah. Will you be at practice this week?”

  I glace at my computer screen filled with a million tiny details I need to take care of. It’s like I’m suddenly working two full time jobs—perfect for getting my mind off of the ache of missing someone you never really had, I guess. But it’s exhausting, too. I’ve already promised myself some time off after the tour wraps. It’ll be just in time for Christmas...which is sort of meaningless, just like everything these days. I’ll probably go home to Chicago for a few days to celebrate with my family unless they fly out here to be at Mark’s place for Ashton’s first Christmas. It’s those sorts of personal details that are getting pushed to the backburner in favor of Ashmark web analytics combined with learning the basics of accounting, budgeting, and scheduling a huge band’s tour.

  I work and work and work because it’s the thing that saves me from myself. It’s an endless cycle of monotony. I’m living to work right now, not working to live, and at the end of the day, I congratulate myself on trudging through another one before it all starts again the next morning.

  I went out seeking to make my own life, as Mark so eloquently put it, and I failed.

  I don’t know how long I can go on doing this to myself, but I keep thinking I can do it for just another few days. After next week, I’ll try again. But when next week comes, I push it off one more week. I tried and failed, and I’m not ready to get back up on the horse.

  I finally shrug at Keith before he walks out the door. “I’m not sure. I’ve got a bunch to take care of and now thirteen more venues to confirm.”

  He shoots me a wry smile as he opens the door. “It’ll all get done. It always does.”

  “Have a great day, Keith.”

  He nods and heads out the door, and Jami, the receptionist, appears in my doorway. “There’s someone here to see you,” she says. She steps out of the way and my doorway is filled with a gorgeous woman who I once loved beyond all measure. She’s wearing a short, black dress, and she still has the body and the face of a commercial model. I know she’s bartending now, and I wonder if she’s still modeling.

  I want to just look upon my former girlfriend with all the pent-up anger and frustration I’ve felt for more than three years, but I can’t help wondering what she’s up to.

  “I don’t have time for this, Kendra,” I say. I shuffle some papers around on my desk to appear busy.

  “I’ll only take a minute. Promise.” She snags her bottom lip between her teeth the way she used to when we were together in a look that used to get her whatever she wanted.

  I blow out a breath, and she closes the door then slides into the seat Keith just vacated. She drops her purse on the edge of my desk, and I immediately cover some of the more sensitive paperwork in front of me to hide it from her view.

  “What do you want?” I ask as I narrow my eyes at her.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you.” She lowers her voice when she says the words, but they still deliver a blow I wasn’t expecting. “I loved you, Brian. I still do. And you walked away from me. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”

  “Wasn’t much to explain when I found you naked in my brother’s bed.” I give her my best unaffected tone, but it still hurts even after so much time has passed.

  “I thought it was your room. I was drunk and didn’t realize...”

  She forgets I used to know her better than anyone. I can sniff out her lies from a mile away.

  “It’s been three years, and just now you’re claiming it wasn’t your fault? Don’t you think that little lie might’ve held up better had you tried to feed it to me at the time of the offense?”

  “I did try. I tried to explain.”

  “No, Kendra,” I say sharply. “You didn’t. You meant everything to me, and you gave it all up. For what? Did you think he was going to give up his entire life for you? A gold-digging, lying, cheating star fucker?”

  Her eyes harden, but I can tell she’s not exactly offended by my words. Not in the way she should be, and my guess is because she knows I’m telling the truth. “Someone grew a pair of balls,” she says snidely.

  I shake my head in disgust. “I can’t believe I used to love you. I can’t believe I bought you a goddamn ring and planned to ask you to spend your life with me.”

  Her hard eyes soften as she thinks that over. She could’ve been sister-in-law to Mark Ashton, sitting across the table from him at the holidays, drawing his name in the family gift exchange, making his favorite potato casserole as part of his family. Instead, she fucked it all up by getting too greedy and tricking him into bedding her. “You wanted to marry me?”

  I raise both brows. “Yeah. How’s that for fucked up? I wanted to marry you, and you were only with me because you wanted to end up with my brother. Do you have any idea how much you completely killed me? I’m not the same man I was back then.”

  “No, I can see that.” She presses her lips together and stands up. She places both palms on my desk and leans forward to give me a cheap shot right down her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and her perky nipples graze the black fabric.

  My traitorous dick stirs to life again. I haven’t palmed a woman’s breasts or tasted her sweet skin for far too long. It’s doing things to my brain, and I have a feeling I’m going to make the wrong decision with this temptation dangled right in front of my face.

  It’s inevitable.

  “I like this new Brian. You’re strong and mean. Aggressive. You know what you want, and I’m sure you’ll stop at nothing to get it. You used to be ambitious, but you were never like this.” Her eyes light up as she talks, like she’s getting more turned on with every new attribute she characterizes me with.

  “You’re right. You hardened me.”

  She glances down at my lap, currently hidden under my desk. Her lip curls as her gaze lifts back up to mine. “Hard, huh?”

  I shake my head. “That’s not where this is going.”

  “I’d like to see you try to stop it.” She straightens and steps around my desk so she’s squaring off beside me. I swivel in my chair to face her. “You never could resist me.”

  “A lot has changed, Kendra.”

  She shakes her head with confidence. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You don’t know the first goddamn thing about me,” I say, because it’s true. I’m a completely diffe
rent man than I was with her. I’m not just scorned; I’m bitter. I’m not just frustrated; I’m aggressive. I don’t just hate her...even if I’m starting to see the benefit of a quick hate fuck. “Not anymore.”

  She reaches down toward my dick that’s straining against my zipper, but I stop her by fisting her wrist before she reaches her goal.

  It’s hard to believe this woman used to turn me on. Now she just turns my stomach.

  The old Brian would’ve hate fucked her anyway, but I’m not that man anymore. Instead of going down an old road that’ll only open old wounds of the past, I decide to take the high road.

  I drop her wrist and back away from her. “I have a lot of work to do. I need you to go.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, and then she shakes her head. “You’re right, Brian. You used to be a good guy. Now you’re just an asshole.”

  She storms out of my office, and I can’t help but think she’s got it wrong. I used to be an asshole, but I’m working on being a good guy.

  chapter twelve

  “Was that Kendra?”

  I glance up to find Mark standing in my doorway. I nod.

  “What did she want?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea.”

  “How did she even know you’re here?”

  “I ran into her a few weeks ago. The night you told me to get out and make my own life. I tried to do just that and ran into my devil of an ex.”

  A light dawns in his eyes. “Ah. That explains it.”

  “What?”

  “The moping around. The generally unpleasant disposition.” He shrugs. “It got a little worse. I figured it was just the FDB thing.”

  “It’s not the FDB thing or the Kendra thing. It’s the Vivian thing, if I’m being honest.” I focus my gaze out the window.

 

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