I don’t get too far before I’m ambushed by a couple of friends I haven’t seen since the accident. Small talk is sometimes more painful than a broken leg. Believe me when I say it, I lived through a broken spine.
“Having a bad night?” The question doesn’t matter; it’s the melodic voice that makes my entire body vibrate.
I turn around, and it’s her. Hannah. Just as breathtakingly beautiful—as ever. Her hair is cascading down her bare shoulders. Though what makes my heart stop is her smile.
“Hi...” gorgeous girl, I say stupidly. Stopping myself from dragging her close to me and kissing her.
“Hannah,” she says mockingly. “Hannah Hades-Bell, your sister’s neighbor.”
I clear my throat. “Like I can forget you or your name,” I whisper close to her ear as I feel her shiver. “Why are you here?”
She shrugs, taking a step back, and smiles. “It’s not my favorite place, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices.”
Hannah looks edible in a long sequin dress that fits her mouthwatering curves. I look at her exposed arms and smile. Her tattoos are visible. I’ve never seen her dressed like this. It’s usually jeans, t-shirts, or sweatshirts. I love her yoga pants, too. This version of her is as good as any other. The thumping of my heart is just as intense as it was when I first saw her.
“You look stunning,” I whisper.
“You clean up well,” she says.
Looking at me, her lips part as she reaches for my tie to adjust it. “Better.”
Jesus Christ. Her voice is enchanting, like a siren.
“Alex,” Samantha says my name, and her voice sounds off, distorted. Like a squeak. I flinch at the sound. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Her suggestive tone makes me want to run away, which I can’t. June insisted this was important. Only three times a year. It’s not about selling myself; it’s about being there for what matters most – the children.
“Hannah, babe, meet Samantha,” I introduce them, hoping she doesn’t run away. “Samantha, this is Hannah.”
“Samantha Mahler,” she adds her last name, as if dropping her last name makes her more important than Hannah.
You know what’s hotter than the open leg dress Hannah’s wearing? The way she stamps a smile on her face and grabs my hand as if claiming me. It is so hot and electrifying. Sparks crackle between us when her skin touches mine.
I’m so distracted by what’s happening between us, and as Hannah becomes absurdly appealing, her full, red lips are all I want to taste. Leaning toward her would be so easy. I stop when I see a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Fuck, what is she up to?
Please, don’t throw me to the wolves, I plea inside my head.
Chin up and shoulders back, filling the entire room with her presence, she smiles. “Samantha Maher?”
“Mahler,” Samantha protests.
Hannah rolls her eyes and looks at me. “How about that dance, babe?”
“That was hot,” I tell her, once we’re on the dance floor.
She smiles and shivers as my hands run down her bare back. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“You didn’t have to come and save me, but again, that was hot.”
“From where I stood, you seemed pretty miserable.”
Was I? Honest to God, I can’t remember. All I can focus on is her fantastic curves and the feel of her body against mine as we sway on the dance floor.
“What happened to your hot glasses?” I ask, staring at her pouty mouth and wondering if I have to ask for permission or if I can just steal a kiss.
“Alex, do us a favor and stop hitting on me,” she stops me, her whiskey color eyes are serious.
I’m about to tell her I miss her when we get interrupted.
“Babe.” A guy, almost as tall as me, wearing a tux jacket and jeans, comes close to us. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him. “The jet is ready for us.”
A twinge of jealousy makes me pull her closer to me. Who the fuck is this guy? Her boyfriend? No wonder she pushed me away.
Hannah nods and looks up at me. “I hope the rest of your night gets better.”
The other guy takes her hand, pulling her away from me.
“Can I come by later tonight?” I ask, not giving a fuck about the guy who’s taking her away from me.
“I won’t be home,” she states.
Is that it, that I never took her home with me and he is?
The man next to her glares at me. She whispers something in his ear, and he rolls his eyes. I relax when I study them closer. It’s the way he hugs her, familiar, brotherly, that tells me they’re not a couple. He looks at her the same way I do my sisters.
“Serendipity, Hannah.”
She walks away laughing. That’s when I notice three other guys, almost as tall as the one who grabbed her out of my arms, join her. Who are they?
Nine
Hannah
“You’re not going to last,” Tucker, who saved me from myself, says, once we climb into the limo. “Who gives up sex for a year?”
“Shut up,” I say. “This is why you have to come to Paris.”
“No can do, sweetheart.” He stops my campaign. “You’re bailing on us. What happened to Cabo? My grandparents lent us the house for the weekend.”
“She’s choosing her bestie over us,” Rocco complains.
“Traitor,” my guys say at the same time and start to chant the word as they clap.
I smile and enjoy their little childish display, but in no time, it gets out of hand and becomes a stupid song. Tucker starts pretending that he’s holding a mic, while Zeke begins to drum his thighs with his hands. Ethan and Rocco play air guitar. Men, they never grow up, and it’s okay. Some nights I need this. The feeling that nothing changed. That we’re still playing together.
Thankfully, we’re not on our way to a concert or heading to the airport to travel to the next city or state where we’d be performing. It’s just one night, supporting a charity so near and dear to our hearts.
“Who’s the guy?” Ethan asks, once they stop with their nonsense. “I didn’t recognize him.”
I shrug. “June’s brother.”
“Golden Boy,” Tucker interjects.
That’s what they call him since they learned about him. It’s the whole gold medalist thing that’s in his bio.
“June’s the hottie next door, right?” Rocco wiggles his eyebrows. “Such a shame she’s off the market. The woman was my cougar wet dream. Why would she want to get married?”
I don’t remind him that she’s only three years older than him.
“There’s nothing wrong with marriage,” Ethan protests.
“Says the guy marrying the ice queen,” Zeke says. “I’d rather be alone.”
“Stop it, fucker,” Ethan warns him. “This is why Hannah thinks Lori isn’t good for me.”
The driver turns and looks a little scared. Four tall, mean-looking, loud men yelling at each other can be overwhelming.
“If we were still playing, she’d be the Yoko to Sinners of Seattle,” Tucker declares, and everyone goes silent.
These guys and I go way back. We met when I was sixteen, and most of them were seventeen. When we were all lost, the Deckers thought it’d be a good idea to bring the broken teenagers together to create a band and keep them out of trouble.
Tucker and Ethan have known each other since they were in diapers, or maybe it was kindergarten. The thing is, that if we’re all siblings, those two are twins. Siamese twins attached to the hip.
I look at Ethan, grab his hand, and tell him, “Nothing and no one can come between us. We promised.”
“They’re crazy, it’s nothing like that. If you’re there, you’d see it.”
“So, what’s happening with this guy? We saw you, Nana.” Zeke changes the subject and calls me by the stupid name they gave me when we started the band. “This wasn’t just a let me save the miserable guy. You were looking at him like a piece of c
hocolate cake with extra frosting.”
Why wouldn’t I? Alexander wearing a shirt is hot, a tux is extra yummy. That decides it. I can’t go to France. It’s a formal wedding in the most romantic country in the world.
“He’s the guy she’s been doing for the past couple of years,” Tucker reminds them.
“One of you has to go with me to this wedding,” I say firmly.
“Nope,” they all say at the same time.
“Please,” I beg, almost pouting.
“There’s nothing wrong with dating the guy,” Zeke says. “You like him, that much was obvious. You almost punched the woman who approached your guy before you walked to the dance floor.”
“I’d pay good money to see that,” Rocco says. “Women fighting is hot.”
“You think everything is hot,” I say, annoyed at his comment.
“Give this guy a chance,” Zeke proposes. “Try something new, you know you want to.”
Zeke is onto something. Unlike Tucker, he knows this is about more than breaking the resolution.
Alex makes me...feel. My body experiences too many sensations at once when he’s around. Accelerated heart rate, butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and shivering are symptoms I don’t get when I’m close to any other guy. Alex has done that to me since the first time we met.
“Look, we adore you, and you know that we’d do almost anything for you. Forfeiting a vacation to go to a wedding is not one of them.” Tucker makes his case. “Just don’t go and come to Cabo with us.”
My loyalties should be with these guys, but June is getting married, and she’s my best friend. I just can’t go to the wedding by myself. If I see Alex again, I’m going to have to work overtime to resist him.
“You always take me as your plus one,” I protest.
They do it, more often than I would like for them to. These guys like to play the field, but when it comes to important events, they call me. Well, except Ethan, who has Lori. I’m tempted to ask why he didn’t bring her, but I don’t since it’s pretty clear that no one likes her.
“Ethan, come with me, please,” I ask him directly, since he owes me several favors. I’m always picking the right bouquet of flowers for his fiancée and making sure they arrive on time.
Zeke laughs. Tucker gives me a don’t ask. Rocco says, “She wouldn’t let him go. She hates you.”
Ethan doesn’t deny Zeke’s accusations. I wrap my arms around myself. Is he going to choose her over us? He shouldn’t. We’re a family.
“Are things going to change between us?” I ask Ethan.
He shakes his head. “Never.”
I try to believe him, but what if we lose him?
Usually, I brush off any absurd comment about Lori, but not today. I’m no longer confident about our future. Tuck and I have families, but Zeke, Rocco, and Ethan only have us. We’re our own special kind of family. Not sure if Lori understands what we are or who Ethan is.
“Well, if none of you are coming with me, at least take Draco with you,” I request, putting a pin on Ethan’s situation.
“I’ll pick him up,” Tucker offers. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Always.”
He rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. I’m sure he means more than don’t sleep with the guy. I’m happy he doesn’t say what he's thinking. Tonight isn’t a good night to have deep conversations about adult subjects, so we do what’s easier, we sing. We make up songs; we forget for one minute there’s a world outside of our group.
Ten
Hannah
A few weeks later, I’m on a plane heading to New York. We have a five-hour layover before we board the jet flying us to Paris. My maid of honor dress is a simple black gown, making me love my bestie all the more. She didn’t torture me with a pink, puffy dress. I should be thankful; except, she stuffed me into a small jet with her brother.
Moussed dark hair, navy color sweater, and that sexy smile that I have to fight to ignore every second I see him. I was hoping her parents would join us. No such luck. Alex told me they’re already in France, helping June with the wedding. Her other two brothers flew over last weekend. Jeannette and her wife are flying from Spain.
“Why didn’t you fly out earlier with your brothers?” I ask, once we take off.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Should I remind you that a couple of minutes ago, you asked me to stay at least ten feet away from you during this trip.”
“It’s an almost six-hour flight,” I say.
“You’re one of those, aren’t you?”
“Those?”
“You can’t stand the silence.”
I show him my book, my notebook, and my tablet. “Again, it’s a question. If you must know, I can entertain myself for hours. My mom wasn’t very motherly. I learned at an early age that hiding in my room with a book was better than interacting with her. When I traveled with my father, I had to make sure I was quiet during rehearsals and sound checks.”
He nods and turns back to his phone. A second later, he looks at me again. “Wait, rehearsals and sound checks? Your dad is in the music industry?”
Even though I’ve known him for a couple of years, we never talk much about my life. I know a lot of things about him.
He drinks shakes in the morning before working out and then has a hearty breakfast. He’s pescatarian but still enjoys a good steak. And Mongolian beef. I think we know more about each other’s taste in music, favorite food, and hobbies than our personal life.
The advantage I have over him is June. I know about his family life because of her. If not, I’d be just as in the dark about him as he is about me.
“Yeah, something like that,” I say casually and place my earbuds in place. “Enjoy the flight.”
I feel his eyes on me while we’re taking off, but I ignore him. He goes to the flight attendant, asking about something. I tune him out. Nothing good can come from having a long conversation with him. My goal this weekend is to finish all the work I brought with me and focus on my friend. If I can avoid Alex for the next few days, I’ll be gold.
He’s been invading my dreams and that’s not good. Hopefully, when we get to Paris, he’ll hook up with someone and leave me alone.
June’s the most discreet person I’ve known. I’m grateful that she hasn’t mentioned to her brother who I am. Not that it’d be hard to figure it out if he digs a little more. That’s the problem with being a celebrity, you can only keep your life private and away from others for so long.
Turning on the music, I focus on the articles Ethan sent me for review. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover for this Valentine’s Day weekend issue—and we’re both out of the country.
I’m not sure how much time passes between the moment we take off and when the flight attendant approaches us to ask what we want to drink. I order water, and once she leaves, I hear Alex say, “You are music royalty.”
Closing my eyes for a moment, I grunt. “Sorta. Did you call your sister to ask about it?”
“No, I googled you. Your dad is famous and you…”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” I advise. “In fact, stop reading.”
“Those guys at the event…” He pauses. “Seattle Sinners?”
“Sinners of Seattle,” I correct him, grinding my teeth.
He smirks. I growl because I hate when he teases me.
The flight attendant sets the water on the working table in front of me before asking, “Would you like anything to eat?”
“No, but thank you,” I respond, going back to work.
“Just what I pre-ordered when I booked the charter. Please, make sure you bring her the chicken noodle soup,” he tells the flight attendant.
I want to hate him for being nice and looking after me. For knowing that I love chicken noodle soup and there’s no way I’d turn it down. This is what this guy does to me.
“It’s hard to be in the public eye,”
Alex says. “You’ve got it rough.”
I shake my head and groan. “Your next move is trying to bond because you think we’re the same. Leave this alone.”
“We can be friends,” he suggests, but his bedroom voice is not convincing at all.
“I have plenty of those, thank you for the offer, though,” I answer.
“Look, I know the first time I was an ass, and I apologized for it,” he says. “It was…you’re the first woman I was with after the accident, okay?”
He was an ass, and he hurt me, but I won’t tell him that because it doesn’t matter. “I don’t care.”
“You still care because you still hate me for it,” he says. “I apologized a million times. What else do you need from me?”
“It’s water under the bridge. Save your lines, I’m not falling for your charm.” Anymore. “No matter what you say, we’re not going back to what we used to have. It’s not good for either one of us. You can continue with your string of one-night stands.”
He blinks twice and crosses his arms. “Care to give me a better explanation, professor? Why is it no good for us?”
“For starters, June is my best friend,” I explain. “It’ll be awkward to see you again during the kids’ Christening or any other event. There’s my New Year’s resolution, too.”
“The men embargo,” he states and smirks. “Are you forgetting about the Februarius resolution? You’re in Paris.”
I glare at him. “How do you know?”
He taps my laptop. Well, the logo of the magazine. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m an avid reader. So why Bell? Is that your penname?”
I shake my head.
“Of course, you named yourself after Tinkerbell,” he says amused.
“My stepmom’s maiden name is Bell. I’ve been Hannah Hades-Bell since I was sixteen,” I say casually.
He doesn't need to know more about the last name. It’s mostly to keep the press and my mother away. “Your stalkery personality has no limits.”
Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance Page 5