Strength

by Daws, Amy

  I turn my head to fully appreciate Leslie’s dress. It’s a red tutu skirt with sheer polka dots layered on top. The bodice is black and strapless with a high fashion, asymmetrical, red, feather sprout on one side. Her long auburn hair is pulled back into a high, bouncy ponytail, and her makeup looks stunning if not a bit pissed.

  “You’re just in time,” Finley giggles, tugging up her strapless mini, red dress and sipping her drink.

  Frank reappears beside me with a red cocktail in a martini glass. “Drink up! You’re three behind these lushes.”

  He ushers me away from Leslie’s grasp just as I take a sip and says, “Okay, introductions. You know the Lezbo. The bitch can’t hold her booze since my beautiful goddaughter was born. Then we’ve got smartarse Fin Bin, who lives here with her sex monster of a husband. And there’s Jiggly Jules, who also lives here.”

  “What makes me jiggly?” Julie asks, narrowing her Asian eyes at Frank. It’s a good question because she is petite by any standards, and dressed in a red miniskirt and red tank, there’s not much I can see jiggling on her.

  Before Frank replies, a Prince song kicks on. Julie screams and runs into the living room to dance, dragging Finley and Leslie with her.

  “See what I mean?” Frank asks, circling his finger by his temple. “I’d avoid her if I were you. Her boyfriend, Mitch, moved out last week and she’s a ticking time bomb, that one. You remember Oxford,” he says, gesturing to Reyna, who’s striding over from the other side of the table. “You can call her Rey or Bitch Face. She answers to both. I’ve checked.”

  “Rey works,” she replies flatly, glaring at Frank and then smiles sincerely at me. She looks fierce in a pair of red leather pants and a red sleeveless tee, revealing her extensively inked arms. Her dark hair is loose and wild down her back, making me feel slightly overdressed as I smooth my low ponytail.

  I eye Rey curiously as I consider what kind of relationship Hayden had with her, but then internally kick myself for even thinking about him again.

  “And I am Ameerah, child,” a large dark-skinned woman peels as she strolls into the dining room from the kitchen. She’s wearing a head wrap and holding a cocktail, looking perfectly at ease with herself in a red and white print moo moo.

  “Ame brings the cocks,” Frank crows.

  “The what?” I nearly choke on my drink.

  “Let us begin, Frank,” Ameerah says in a thick Caribbean accent.

  Frank releases me to gather everyone around the table and props us in our assigned chairs. Ameerah makes a grand gesture of pulling back the red cloth to reveal a table full of…

  Cocks.

  Loads and loads of scary-looking cocks.

  Bugger, that one has three heads.

  “A new hot dog!” Leslie crows. “Frank, you shouldn’t have!”

  I look around confused as Ameerah begins her speech. Apparently she owns a sex toy boutique in Brixton and I have found myself smack dab in the middle of a sex toy hen party.

  “I’m definitely going to need one of these.” Julie hiccups in my ear and grabs a pink thing in front of me. It’s shaped like the letter C, and I’m not even sure how it would work. “Since I’m newly single and all.”

  “Brody would go gaga for these, Finny!” Leslie laughs and chucks a sack of cock rings at her.

  “Um, these are to make the guy last longer, and Brody has zero problem there, thanks.” Finley tosses them over to me.

  I eye the toys nervously as Ameerah begins describing the uses for each item. I wouldn’t say I’m sexually prude, but I definitely don’t have a drawer of sex toys. I’ve only had two partners, and neither of them seemed too keen on experimenting with BOBs. And I certainly don’t need anything to help pleasure myself.

  “See anything you like, Vi?” Frank asks from the other side of me.

  I grab a small garment box with a pair of hot pink lace knickers sitting inside.

  “That’s French silk,” Ameerah purrs, sauntering over to me. “I own a fabric store next to my husband’s sex store. I commission all the lingerie from a designer I know.”

  “And it’s not me!” Leslie whines. “I don’t have time to sew anything anymore. I had to buy my own wedding dress for Pete’s sake.”

  I smile fondly at Leslie. She always did have a great eye for technique. It’s a big reason why she did all the China trips before she had Marisa. I’m better at digital design, but I’m becoming more well-rounded in her absence.

  “Your dress is beautiful, Lez,” Finley rebuffs and rubs Leslie’s arms affectionately.

  “I know, but it’s not an original.” Suddenly, her eyes alight with a renewed sense of purpose. “However! I might have some time to do some tweaking to it now that Jaci’s on the scene! That’s Jaci…no K!”

  I try to school my features to look surprised as Leslie tells the group about Jaci being her new wedding coordinator. Apparently she tackled nine things off the list while Leslie got her hair done today.

  “Guys, I think I might have a lady boner for Jaci. She’s scary and reminds me a bit of that mean British chef, Gordon Ramsey, but it’s kind of a turn-on! Maybe I should get her a present.” She giggles and begins riffling through the products.

  I’m relieved to see Leslie embracing the coordinator. That’s exactly what I wanted her to do. However, if she knew it was me who paid for Jaci’s assistance, she most certainly would refuse the help. But when I turned twenty-one, I received a large trust from my dad. I have never done a lot with the money except purchase the lease on my flat, so it felt good to spend it this way.

  I knock back a couple more cocktails and relish in the fact that none of these women are like the women I went to school with. Perhaps it’s because most of them are happily coupled off? Or perhaps it’s because they don’t have a clue or care in the world about who my family is, which is usually the deal-breaker for me and my new girlfriends. Regardless, this group feels so down-to-earth and completely unaffected by trivial London society troubles. It’s refreshing.

  The night takes a wicked turn when Leslie disappears into the bathroom to try some warming lube on her wobbly bits. I’ve never laughed as hard as when she waltzed out in her beautiful dress like she had just stepped off a horse. You’d think that would scare everyone away, but Finley ran in to try the same product!

  These girls are so pleasantly original.

  In the end, I don’t buy any freaky sex toys, but I do purchase several of the sexy lingerie pieces. I have a little thing for sexy underwear ever since I moved out of my dad’s house. I think I was always too scared to buy it before, fearing that my brothers might see it in the laundry and go ballistic. Now I have a proper collection of filmy goodies that make me feel girlie and sexy when I go to bed every night.

  “The cabs are here!” Frank roars. “To Club Shay we go!”

  We hustle into a couple of black cabs and buzz through the intoxicating city lights of London all the while musing over the last time I was at Club Shay. I haven’t been back since before Leslie and Theo became a couple. Leslie was in the middle of some sort of insane love cleanse that Frank had put together for her. The night we were all there, she was challenged by Frank to do a girl kiss, and she ended up shocking all of us when she smacked Finley right on the lips. It was a right proper snog, too, which Theo was there to bear witness to.

  I laugh at the fact that all of that was part of their unconventional love story. Now they are getting married soon with their own beautiful daughter as their flower girl. Will I ever find anyone who loves me enough to chase me through an entire love cleanse? Or am I destined to only be a motherly figure to my brothers for the rest of their lives?

  “Why so glum?” Julie asks, sitting directly across from me and watching me through hooded eyes. She’s possibly the drunkest of everyone here. I’m actually a bit worried for her.

  I shrug my shoulders and smile. “I’m just really happy for Leslie. She’s really got it all, you know?”

  “It’s not that easy for all o
f us,” she drawls menacingly and stares out the window. “No sense getting your hopes up to find something similar because, just when you think you have your happily ever after sorted, you get the rug ripped straight out from under you. You think you know someone? You don’t. You never really do.” She sighs heavily and her eyes narrow further. “I’m just looking for a bloke to shag tonight. Someone to wet my whistle and walk away from. That’s. It.”

  My brows lift as Julie speaks to the voice in my head that’s trying its hardest to shout at me to stop obsessing over Hayden and wanting to turn him into something more. He pulled back because he’s not interested, and I know I’d do right to avoid him full stop from now on. Tonight isn’t about men anyway. It’s about having fun with some friends.

  When we pull up to Club Shay, I’m feeling on top of the world and ready to make tonight about me and nobody else. I’m not as pissed as the rest of the party, but I’m feeling relaxed and ready for anything.

  Anything but a dizzyingly sexy Hayden Clarke standing at the entrance of the club.

  A BLACK CAB PULLS UP to the curb at Club Shay just as my watch clicks over to 11:11. I lean against the wall, ball my fists, and do my usual ritual. When I open my eyes, I see Leslie stumble out of the cab with Frank and Finley doing their best to steady her.

  “Hayden!” Leslie bellows, running toward me with her arms open. I feel a bit twitchy from the coincidental timing of their arrival, but get over it quickly as she heaves me down for a drunken hug. Her breath reeks of alcohol as she asks, “Does this mean my Theo is here?” The tone of her voice hitches to a high-pitched squeal at the end with her undiluted excitement.

  I shake my head knowingly and gesture that he’s inside. “He’s here just for you, Lez.”

  “Fuck!” she screeches. “I’m super glad I wore panties tonight!” I blanch as she suddenly stops and twirls around, halting Frank and Finley in their tracks. “Hands off bitches. His thigh is mine,” she cackles and drags a crying-with-laughter Finley and Frank toward the entrance.

  I shake my head in utter confusion and see Rey step out of a second cab.

  “Hey, Hay,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder.

  “Hey, Rey,” I chuckle. “How are you doing?”

  “Good…Not as good as Leslie, but good. You clean up well.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully at me, attempting to be matey.

  Matey and Rey just don’t quite mix for me yet.

  “They’re all inside,” I offer, trying not to roll my eyes.

  She nods sheepishly and makes her way toward the door.

  Once upon a time, I was completely sickened by jealousy over what Liam was able to get from Rey that I never could, and it’s still not the most comfortable thing in the world to be around him. But I’m glad Rey has someone looking out for her. He’s also Theo’s best mate. I owe a lot to Theo and Leslie, so I’ll be the bigger person and look past everything. And, truthfully, I have evolved enough in my recovery to know that I was being a complete twat and deserved the knock to my face. Still, I can only stomach so much grinning and bearing.

  “Vi?” I say in surprise as my eyes catch sight of her walking from the other side of the cab arm in arm with Frank’s roommate, Julie.

  “Hi to you, too, wanker” a sullen Julie says, stomping past me in a huff.

  My brows lift at her chilly demeanour. I’ve only met her once I think.

  “I didn’t realise you’d be here,” I say, turning back to Vi and looking her up and down. A heaviness bears down on my shoulders that wasn’t there before. Fuck me, she looks stunning. The flesh revealed on her abdomen and the curve of her slim hips beneath the stretching red fabric causes my dick to stir.

  “I didn’t know this was a combined party.” She looks around awkwardly, seemingly trying to avoid eye contact. “I thought it was just a hen night.”

  Is she disappointed? “Uh, yeah. It was Liam’s idea. This is where Theo and Leslie met, so…” I can barely finish my sentence as anxiety prickles all my senses.

  She nods stiffly. “You look nice.” She shoots me a cool, polite smile and tucks a nonexistent loose hair behind her ear.

  I look down haphazardly at my clothes. I’m dressed in black jeans and a tight, fitted, blue button-down with my sleeves rolled up to my elbows. I’ve carelessly left a couple of buttons popped around my neck. My brown cuffs and watch are in place as usual. I look like a prat compared to how stunning she looks.

  I swallow hard, trying to determine how to warm up her ice-cold demeanour toward me. I know we didn’t leave things on the best terms last time we saw each other, but fuck. I’m not just some random bloke.

  “You look…shocking.”

  Her face screws up. “Shocking?”

  “Um, red. It’s…your colour.” My voice falters like a moron as I try to stifle the impending urge I have to toss her back into the cab and hide her from the rest of the world. Honestly, the possessiveness I feel combined with not knowing exactly what she’s thinking right now is driving me mad.

  “You okay?” She looks at me with confusion over my nervousness.

  Fuck, Hayden, get your shit together.

  I nod stiffly and gesture toward the door for her to lead the way. I place my hand on the small of her back out of morbid curiosity if that spark we had is still there. She shivers beneath my touch and it takes the strength of a saint to not curve my hand around her small waist, pull her back against me, and allow my eager fingers to grope until their desires are satisfied. I know she doesn’t need my hand on her bare back to be guided to the VIP section, and that’s not why I’m touching her. I’m touching her to send a message out to all the fucking tossers in this club that she is spoken for.

  Is she?

  Christ, Hayden. She’s not bloody spoken for. You’d do well to get that out of your head if you want to do what’s best for everyone involved.

  I rip my hand from her as we reach the corner of the club where everyone is sitting on black leather couches. There’s a glass coffee table with bottles and mixers in the centre.

  Leslie is perched on Theo’s lap and is giggling happily at something he’s whispering in her ear. Finley and her husband, Brody, are seated next to them. The others who came out tonight for Theo’s stag party consist of Liam and Theo’s other two mates, James and Ethan.

  Reyna’s eyes find mine. I could feel her penetrative gaze as soon as I entered the VIP section. Liam has a lazy arm draped over her shoulders as he talks to Ethan. I can read her expression like a fucking book, and right now she’s wondering how hard all of this is for me to be around. She raises her eyebrows at me in silent question. I frown and shake my head, telling her I’m fine. I look away, trying to conceal my annoyance. For starters, I’m not her concern anymore. Secondly, the alcohol is child’s play compared to Vi in her red fucking dress.

  Vi bends over to grab a bottle of water off the table and Ethan’s eyes zero in on her. In seconds, he’s detaching himself from Liam and approaching her slowly in a way that makes everything in me want to turn into a caveman. Ethan has definite sleazebag qualities. Of all Theo’s mates, he’s the worst. He’s tall with caramel-chocolate skin and blue eyes that he thinks make him fucking Zeus, king of the bloody Greek gods. The way he expects women to fawn all over him gets right up my nose.

  I turn away as he slithers up to Vi. I lean on the metal rail that’s positioned above the dance floor, watching the swarms of people drinking themselves into oblivion. There was a time when I’d be right there with them, drinking so I wouldn’t have to feel. But all that did was delay my feelings until they crashed in a mighty wreck all over my life. Now I’m content to be sober and deal with things as they come, one-by-one.

  The night carries on, and all I can do is watch Vi laugh and have a great time while I sit and stew over how I feel about her. She doesn’t drink alcohol like everyone else. She’s had the same cocktail since she arrived nearly two hours ago, and she’s gone through two whole bottles of water. I fucking love that about her.
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  “You’re not fooling me, you know.” Leslie’s voice chirps quietly in my ear.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, frowning at the fact that Vi has barely looked at me since we came inside. I’m sitting on the couch directly across from her as she’s sandwiched between Ethan and James—the only other single blokes here tonight.

  Leslie sits on the edge of the coffee table, blocking my view. “You’re trying to act strong and confident. But I see right through you, baby brother.”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop calling me baby brother. You’re only one year older than me.”

  She giggles dopily, her green eyes drooping in her happy, drunken state. She reaches out and pushes my sullen pout into a grin, and I can’t help but laugh in response.

  Shaking my head, I say, “The alcohol isn’t bothering me. I actually quite enjoy being sober. All you sods are going to wake up with crippling headaches tomorrow and I’m going to hit the gym feeling great.”

  “I’m not talking about the booze.” She shifts off the table and onto the couch, leaning back next to me. She rests her head on my shoulder and continues. “I’m talking about the blonde.”

  I shift my jaw back and forth. “It’s like she doesn’t even know me.”

  My eyes squint as Vi laughs at something Julie says from the other side of James. I know I rejected her, but I can’t help but feel like her excessive shift in attitude toward me is some blatant form of judgement. Does she not want to be seen publicly with me? Is that it?

  “You’re not the easiest of guys to get to know,” Leslie drawls sleepily.

  That was true until I met Vi. Christ, what on earth have I gotten myself in the middle of? Originally, running into Vi at the gala felt like the universe’s way of putting us together. That’s why I thought she’d be perfect to help me with my countdown. I should have known better. The first moment I met her at The White Swan was the first time my body had responded to another woman since Reyna.

  Fuuuuuck. What have I done?