Dad is the only one not drinking tonight.
“Uh-huh.”
“You sure, love?” Mum asks. “You don’t seem too happy.”
I don’t feel it. “Fine, Mum. Tired.”
I’m suddenly really fucking tired.
When I get in thirty minutes later, I get ready for bed and sink beneath the quilt. Sighing, I plug my phone into the charger and stare at it. Maybe I should text Wren and clear the air. We can’t have an atmosphere, or everyone will quickly pick up on it.
But she purposefully ignored me at the end of the night, so she might not be up for talking.
Fuck it. We need to deal with this.
Brody: Sorry I was a dick.
Wren: Why were you a dick?
Good question. It’s one I haven’t quite figured out myself. When I’m around her, I feel lust and anger simultaneously, like they’re a package deal.
Brody: I don’t know.
Wren: It’s not going to be fun for me, never knowing which version of you I’m getting.
Brody: You’ll get the old me from now on.
I wait for her reply. Three little dots tell me she’s typing, but her reply is either a fucking essay or she’s deleting and trying again because she’s not sure what to say.
Now, I don’t know which Wren I’m about to get.
Is she going to be honest and tell me she doesn’t want to go back to being acquaintances? I need to know where she’s at. She didn’t seem to want more of any kind with me; her reaction told me that. She didn’t even consider I could be talking about… a relationship.
Jesus, how do you do that? What does being in a relationship look like? My parents make it appear effortless, but how do they actually do it?
Come on, Wren.
Wren: Okay.
That’s it. All that time for her to write an okay that definitely looks anything but fucking okay. Felicity is telling me to be clearer with her, but what does she want from me?
I throw my phone on the floor.
Chapter 38
Wren
I slam my phone face down on my lap and glare at it.
What a prick.
The old him. I didn’t much care for the old him. New him isn’t doing too well either.
What does he not want to be a secret? As of this second, all that has happened to us is sex and marriage. I’m not in any rush to shout about either of those things.
Not that I’m ashamed to have sex with him. But a friends with benefits kind of deal isn’t going to make the parents proud. It’s also not for me.
No one tells their parents if they’re doing that.
Emma is staring at me in the backseat of the car. Our parents are chatting as if nothing is off.
“You want to watch a movie when we get in?” Emma asks.
Code for Can we stay up late so I can grill you?
“I’m too tired.”
She tilts her head. “You don’t even have the energy for one episode of—”
“Maybe tomorrow,” I cut in sharply.
“Fine.” Her word is spoken through her teeth.
Mason can laugh about the Brody and me situation. Emma cannot. Not that it’s funny, but the girl is so serious and all about talking it out. I don’t much feel like talking tonight.
“Here we are,” Dad announces as we pull into the drive, as if we’d all suddenly forgotten where we lived.
I get out of the car, holding my phone in my hand and willing Brody to leave it for tonight. What can he reply to “okay” anyway?
Emma is hot on my heels as I let us into the house.
“Night,” I call, heading straight for the stairs.
I hear Mum and Dad mention getting a coffee, so they’ll be in the kitchen for a while.
Behind me, Emma’s footsteps creep up the stairs.
“Em, I’m not in the mood.”
“Just get ready for bed, Wren. I’ll come and see you in a minute. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I have to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m not a child.”
She smiles. “You’ll always be my kid sister.”
Fantastic.
I leave her in the hallway and go into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Emma gives it five minutes after I head from the bathroom to my bedroom, waiting for me to change into my pyjamas.
Then comes her quiet tap on my door, three times.
“Come in,” I say. Better to get this over with, I suppose.
She lets herself in and walks over to my bed.
I sink beneath the cover. “I’m okay, Em.”
“Do you have feelings for him?”
“What? No.”
“Why are you so upset over your argument with him if you don’t?”
“Because he pissed me off.”
“You’ve slept with him after the thing in Vegas.”
“Yeah.” Can’t say I’d be very good at staying away from him again if the chance arose. “Sex doesn’t necessarily mean feelings.”
“I understand that,” she says. “Sometimes, all you want is the physical side without the responsibility of a relationship.”
“There you go. That’s what I want.”
“But that person can’t be Brody. It will eventually become so obvious that Luke will realise. You and Brody were close tonight. I don’t think you left each other’s side.”
“We did,” I defend weakly.
We left each other to go to the toilet or the bar. It’s too pathetic to tell Emma that.
“Barely. If it’s just sex, you need to let it go before Brody and Luke’s friendship is affected. If it’s more than sex, you need to tell him what you want.”
“I’m not looking to make my husband my boyfriend, Em.”
She winces, still not ready to make husband jokes. “Then, let it go.”
“We tried. He’s like… addictive. I don’t know.”
“Addictive.”
“It’s really good sex, Em.”
Every time I’m around him, I feel like I’m going to combust.
“But it’s a really bad idea, Wren.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m aware. It was a blip, and it won’t happen again.”
“How many blips have you had?”
“Just that one since Vegas.”
Her eyes dig into me, searching for hidden truths between my words. “Are you sure it’s just sex?”
“Emma, before Vegas we barely spoke.”
“And after Vegas?”
“After Vegas, we’re friends. I just need to work on not sleeping with him.”
This cracks the Ice Queen’s frosty exterior, and she smiles. “All right. You work on that because casual sex is not worth messing with his and Luke’s friendship over. If you liked him, of course, that would be different. Luke would get over it if you and Brody were in a relationship.”
I glare at her, willing some sort of magical powers so I can set her on fire. “Well, we’re not in a relationship or even wanting one. We’re just married. Temporarily. I get it, Em. I don’t want to screw anything up for Brody or Luke; they’ve been mates forever. Bros before hos and all that.”
She’s still looking like she’s waiting for me to be honest.
“Emma, I do not want anything from Brody.”
Holding her palms up, she replies, “All right. You should sleep now. You’ve had an… energetic day.” Standing up, she walks to my door and looks back over her shoulder. “I hope you don’t have bark burn.”
Twat.
Chapter 39
Brody
Work was shit. It was a Monday after all.
I’m on my way home, and all I can think about is Wren’s “okay.” Who replies with one word after typing for minutes? I would do anything to know what the other drafts of that text were. All Sunday, I obsessed over what had happened with her at the wedding reception.
I’m supposed to meet Luke for a beer tonight, but my conscience is kicking in.
&nbs
p; He would be so fucked off if he knew I’d had sex with Wren.
Even more so about the marriage.
I could cancel, but he would turn up on my doorstep, demanding that I stopped being a boring fuck and came out. We’re meeting at his favourite bar, Nailed. Odd name, but there are two unisex bathrooms and larger than usual stalls, so I guess they promote getting nailed. And on Mondays, they have two-for-one cocktails, which guarantees plenty of women.
It’s kind of a middle ground between a bar and a club. You can dance, but you can also comfortably hold down a conversation. And there’s plenty of room if you feel like fucking in a toilet.
Tonight, I kind of do.
When I get into my apartment, I head straight to the fridge to eat leftover Chinese food. Then, I have a shower and change into jeans and a T-shirt.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror only infuriates me. You’re so fucking stupid. Fuck Wren.
Pushing away from the sink, I leave the bathroom and head out to meet Luke at Nailed.
I take an Uber because I’ll be drinking heavily tonight. Sunday was spent in my apartment, alone, wondering if Wren would text. That won’t happen again. We’ll brush what happened at the wedding reception under the carpet and carry on as friends.
No more lusting after my friend’s sister.
My wife.
The Uber driver—a short, thin man with a thick moustache—drops me off ten minutes later. I get out of the car and curse the fucking rain. Luckily, Nailed leans more on the bar side, so there isn’t a queue.
Luke is inside, laughing at something the bartender said. I can see why he’s flirting. She’s blonde and gorgeous with more than a handful under her black top.
“Hey, man,” I say, clapping him on the back.
He looks up. “Got you a beer.”
I take a seat beside him. “Thanks. How’s it going?”
Have you seen your youngest sister?
No, I’m not asking that.
He shrugs. “Okay. Mase ditched us for Kate.”
If Wren called now, would I ditch Luke?
In a fucking heartbeat. And I hate that.
I shake my head, though I understand the pull. “Whipped already. Another brother falls.”
Luke sighs. “I’ll miss him.”
A couple other friends have been out less and less thanks to their women.
“Girl in the red first, then the bartender after hours,” Luke says, nodding to a woman and her friends at the other end of the bar. “What about you?”
I blink, and for a second, my mind goes blank.
Right. Old rule one: scope out the ladies the second you walk through the door.
“Not sure yet. Keeping my options open,” I tell him and sip my Peroni.
Luke does a double take at something to our side and mutters, “Are they for real?”
I follow his line of vision, and my heart stills.
Wren, Emma, and Felicity.
“Did you know they’d be here?” he asks.
Grinding my teeth, I reply, “Nope.”
Why is Wren in a bar that promotes bathroom sex?
“Wren!” Luke shouts, scowling so hard that I’m surprised his face doesn’t crumble.
The three of them look over. Felicity waves, Emma smiles, and Wren scowls harder than Luke.
“Why are you here?” Luke asks her as they walk over to us.
“Nice to see you, too, brother,” Wren replies.
“Em, you bring her here?”
“She’s eighteen, Luke. She can go wherever she wants.”
With a triumphant smile, Wren takes a seat at the bar next to me. Emma is quick to follow, sitting on the other side of her, a little too close. This has everything to do with the wedding reception and Emma not wanting Wren to make the same mistake again.
I’m not at the top of Emma’s Christmas card list—and yes, she does have one—so that night would have only pissed her off even more. She still holds me more accountable than Wren for the marriage.
So do I.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says quietly while Felicity distracts Luke by striking up a conversation about his past failed conquests. That conversation could go on all night.
“Is it a problem that we’re both in the same place?” I ask.
Emma audibly clears her throat. She thinks so.
“Emma, why don’t you order for us?” Wren says. “I think Indie and Mila might come later.”
Emma smiles. “That’s great. It’s about time you hung out with them again.”
And not me.
“I’ve missed them. We’ve all been busy.”
I swig my beer.
“Mila still have legs that go on forever?” I ask.
Well, if I thought she was scowling before…
Wren’s eyes narrow into slits.
“Joking, sweetheart,” I say.
“Brody!” Emma scolds.
I’m pushing it. Luke is next to me, very loudly denying that he sucks at pick-up lines, but still, he could overhear.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Wren says to Emma.
I shake my head. “No, don’t. I’m sorry, okay?”
Her eyes soften when she looks back at me. “You’ve been apologising a lot recently.”
“I’ve been a dick a lot.”
“Time to stop that, Brody, yeah?” Emma’s voice is firm, and her words are deeper than face value.
“Em, please,” Wren whispers.
There’s something about the plea that makes me want to bash my head against the bar. She sounds tired, dejected… sad.
Am I hurting her?
Gripping my bottle harder, I push off the stool and walk away from them.
Enough. We both need to move on.
Chapter 40
Wren
Brody walked away from me and straight up to a woman sitting at a table, alone. She’s gorgeous, flawless, and smiling seductively as he makes his way over.
I hope they both catch herpes.
With a heavy heart, I turn around and stare at the bartender, willing her to come over here and give me alcohol.
Emma places her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Fine.”
“Where’s Brody? Ah,” Luke says, laughing. “He’s found someone. She’s hot a hell.”
Yes. Lovely.
The bartender comes over, and Emma orders six mojitos. I might have all six.
Felicity frowns. “Do you really think she’s his type?”
Luke smirks. “You don’t need a type to shag someone, Fliss.”
That burger before we came here was a bad idea.
The girl’s two friends return to the table and instantly fall into flawless conversation with Brody. I turn back again, not wanting to see it.
I take the first mojito set down in front of us and swig. Neither Felicity nor Emma say a word.
At least he’s making it so much easier to resist him. If he’s starting up the sleeping around again, I don’t want to go there.
Problem solved, I guess.
“Anyway, ladies, it’s been a pleasure,” Luke says half-heartedly as he eyes someone at the other end of the bar.
Emma scoffs. “Those guys are pigs.”
“My brother is worse,” Felicity adds. She gets up and slips into Brody’s vacant stool.
I swig again.
What’s going on behind me? Is she touching his arm, throwing her head back and laughing, flicking her hair? Is he leaning in, seductively lowering his voice, suggesting they go somewhere?
I take a deep breath.
“Wren?” Felicity says.
“We should dance. Down these,” I say, pointing to their drinks while Emma pays.
“You want to dance?” Emma questions.
“Yep, so come on; drink up.”
There’s a lower level, only a couple of steps, which houses the DJ and dance floor along the far wall. It’s only the start of the week, but there’s a decent amount o
f people dancing away the Monday blues.
We drink up in record time, and I’m instantly met with a welcome buzz.
“Let’s go!” I say, tugging on Emma’s arm.
Felicity is up, but my sister is being slow.
“All right.” She laughs, slipping off her stool. “To the dance floor.”
I don’t need to look over to know that Brody’s eyes are on me as we walk past. I feel the electricity of his heated gaze all over my body. But fuck if I give him the satisfaction of meeting said gaze.
Felicity, Emma, and I dance. We don’t care what song comes on; we dance to the next and the next and the next. I close my eyes, moving to the beat and not caring that Brody is a tosser.
I sway to Sweet but Psycho by Ava Max.
A heartbeat later, a pair of hands circle my waist. I know by the possessive cut of his fingers in my flesh and the rock-hard abs in my back that it’s Brody.
His breath brushes my ear and sends a shiver down my spine. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growls, his grip tightening.
Can you say vagina on fire?
Felicity and Emma freeze, as do I. Only I’m the one in Brody’s death grip.
“Brody!” Felicity’s eyes fly behind us, scanning the bar area for Luke.
I turn in his arms. Or I try to. I can only manage to twist my torso and look at him over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
His eyes are wild, like he’s not remotely in control anymore.
“Brody, let go of her!” Emma snaps.
He doesn’t.
“If Luke sees…” I say, trying to reason with him.
Brody stares at me, and everything else falls away. My heart races a million miles an hour.
Dear Lord, do not fuck him in one of the bathrooms!
Brody closes the distance, his mouth melding to mine as he twists me round so we’re chest-to-chest.
I almost explode as his tongue grazes my lip.
Mayday!
I know we should stop. He knows we should stop. Yet here we are.
My hands find his chest, and I work my way up, feeling the bump of every carved slice of muscle. Brody moans my name against my mouth and pulls me closer, so my arms are wedged between us. I don’t care that I can’t move.
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