“Are you coming in? Or are you just going to stand there all day?”
That damn mouth.
“I don’t know. You look so good right now. The view is—” I kiss my fingers, exploding them in the air when I can’t find adequate words to describe what I see. It’s gorgeous, and I can’t take my eyes away. Like a work of art.
“You’ve already had this old thing. Get your ass in here.”
“Hey,” I step forward, the hot water scolding my skin. Jeez, the temperature is from the depths of hell. No wonder her skin is bright maraschino red. “I could never get enough.”
I press the back wall at a certain spot, and the glass door descends back down around us, encasing the two of us alone in our private world.
I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her body against mine. The water creates a curtain around us, and the white noise from the shower makes us seem even more isolated than we are. It’s a steady thrum against the stone, creating light beats of music, and I sway us to the sound.
“Are you dancing with me, Logan Stone?”
“Sure am. Careful, though—I hear I have two left feet.” I spin her out in a graceful twirl. Her beautiful body shines from the water, and her smile could light up the night sky. Her breasts bounce when I spin her back into my arms and dip her, causing the water to flush over her face.
“Oh, shit.” I tug her towards me as she coughs and spits the water that rushed into her mouth. “I’m sorry, Whitley. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
I still hold her close to me, dancing as I did at my eighth-grade prom, my arms around her waist and hers around my neck. Granted, I wasn’t naked then.
“Don’t ever be sorry for something that made me smile.”
My heart flies higher than it ever has with this woman. I spin her around again. This time I let go and put my hand under the shampoo dispenser for a few seconds to get a good amount to wash her scalp with.
“Come here. Turn around.” She does what she’s told and tilts her mane back. The ends of her hair tease down near my cock. Even that slightest hint of touch makes my cock perk up, wondering what the hell is going on.
Down, boy.
I massage my fingers in her hair and get a good lather going. She moans as I scratch her scalp, giving her the best shampoo of her life. She will never want to go to a hairdresser again.
“So, I was wondering…”
“Mmmhmm?”
“I hoped you would do me the honor of going to the Sweetheart Valentine’s Day Fundraiser with me.”
“You know, I think I’ve heard of that. Isn’t that where the wealthiest of the wealthiest go, and they adopt a ‘sweetheart,’ most likely a cancer patient—and pay for a medical bill or something?”
I nod, but then remember she can’t see me. “Close. We pay off the entire bill with the patient we adopt.”
“And do you participate?”
My heart tugs a little when I think of the little girl I’ve been “adopting” over the years. I don’t plan on stopping unless Harper, the little girl, dies from her leukemia.
“Yeah,” I choke when I think about Harper's tiny face and bald head. “Her name is Harper Holloway. She’s eight. I’ve been adopting her for almost five years. I pay for everything. I make sure that her family doesn’t ever have to worry about anything. They also raffle expensive trips and prizes off. All donations go to the billing departments of the local children’s hospitals. It’s a good way for us rich, uppity folk to give back. Since starting the fundraiser five years ago, I’ve noticed that the families in need don’t struggle quite as much, when they don’t have overwhelming medical debt.”
She spins in my arms and tilts her head back, letting the water run over her hair, to get the suds out. “You say your heart is cold, but all I feel right now is love and warmth. You’re a good man, Logan. I’d love to go with you. Live the life of the rich and famous for the day.”
Pshh, for the rest of your life. The thought stuns me for a moment, and I push it into the back of my head. No way did I just think that.
Back to reality. I breathe a sigh of relief. For some reason, it’s like I am asking her out for our first date all over again. “Good. This weekend, Frankford will take you and Charlie—if she’s feeling better—shopping. And a day at the spa.”
“Charlie gets to come to the fundraiser, too?” she asks with excitement. Her eyes are wide and in shock, but I can feel the happiness coming off her in waves. I hadn’t expected her friend to go, but I can’t say no now.
“Of course. Can she get a date?”
“My brother, Kyle, will go with her. They’ve been madly in love with each other for years, but neither of them has done anything about it. Idiots. Maybe since it’s Valentine’s Day, Cupid will do them a favor and hit their asses with a love arrow.” She snorts at her own joke.
“You’re adorable.”
“Adorable is a word used for puppies.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. Puppies are cute.”
“Puppies. Not women.” Her bottom lip pouts.
I bend over and kiss her ruby-red lips, smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. “You’re beautifully adorable.”
“Jerk.”
“Criminal.”
Her hand goes to her chest when she gasps. “Logan Stone!” she mock-shouts. “I thought we were past that.”
“Oh, Cherry. Once a criminal, always a criminal.”
Except this time, she’s trespassed on my well-guarded heart. She’s made me turn into a damn sap. All my badass is melting away. One smile—one look from her—is all it takes for me to forget all the pain that has blocked me from living the past few years. All of the walls I’ve been building around my emotions start to fade away. My heart beats stronger for it.
Whitley
“How cliché would it be for us to play Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous?” Charlie laughs, tossing back a shot of tequila that Logan stocked in the car before we left this morning.
“Definitely. It’s why we have to do it.” I connect my Bluetooth from my phone to the car and open my music app to search for the song.
“You look different lately.” She prepares us another shot with a wedge of lime and salt.
I roll my eyes. For some reason, at least in the movies, women always say that when someone loses their virginity. I don’t look different. and the only thing that feels different is my sore lady bits.
“Oh my god! You had sex!” she yells, loud enough for Frankford to hear in the front because the damn glass isn’t rolled up. He takes a moment to press the button, submerging me in mortification.
“Keep it down,” I hiss.
“Like he doesn’t already know. Come on, Frankford is old, not dead. Come on,” she snorts, taking another shot.
I slouch against the seat. I might not be a virgin anymore, but my private life is mine and Logan’s alone. I don’t want people to know what we do. It feels like an invasion of privacy. “So? I’m not like you, Charlie. I care about what people know and don’t know about me.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry, Whit.” But then a mischievous sparkle takes over her eyes. “How was it?”
I circle the rim of my shot glass with my fingers, smiling when I remember how amazing it was.
“Oh, girl. You have it bad. It must have been good,” she sings, taking the shot out of my hand and tossing it back.
“Hey! I was going to drink that.”
“No, you weren’t. You were about to tell me every detail.”
I blush, remembering every. Single. Detail. Moans, bites, grunts, whimpers, sweat, blood, come.
“If you get any redder, you might combust.”
I hide my face in my hands, shaking my head. “I know! I’m so helpless!”
“Helplessly in love,” Charlie chuckles, giving me another shot glass and cheering with me. Our glasses clink, and she tosses another shot back. Hell, at this rate she won’t make it to the fund
raiser.
Am I in love with Logan? The man who irritates me so much? Who I used to think was the enemy?
Yes.
My mind whispers, but I push it away. “It doesn’t matter. He is meeting with my brother today.”
Charlie cringes. “Anthony?”
“Yep.” I make sure to pop the word off my tongue and take a shot. “He won’t ever allow me to be with Logan. I swear, his goal in life is for me to end up old and alone.”
“He is just protective.”
“It’s too much, Charlie. And did you know they’re friends? That makes it worse. They go freaking golfing every other week. This isn’t small talk. Once Anthony finds out Logan is having sex with his sister, shit is going to hit the fan.”
“You’re a big girl, Whit. You don’t need anyone’s permission but your own. Anthony will get over it.”
I roll her words around in my head, hoping that Logan won’t get scared off by my brother’s ways. But my worry fades instantly when I think about the kind of man Logan is. He isn’t going to care what the hell my brother thinks. I pour another shot of silver Patron, lick my hand and pour salt on it, and prepare a lime. “You’re right. I have nothing to worry about.”
“Atta girl!” she shouts over Good Charlotte singing, clinking my glass with hers as we down another.
“What about Kyle? He is coming, right?”
Charlie is normally a loud mouth, but any time I bring up Kyle, she turns into a blushing virgin. “Yes! I’m so excited. But we are going as just friends.”
This time, I roll my eyes. “You know, for someone who spits so much advice, you’re horrible at taking your own.”
“That obvious?”
“You and him both. You’ve known each other for, what, a decade? And nothing? The Charlie I know wouldn’t let that happen. She goes for what she wants.”
The car comes to a slow stop, and Frankford rolls down the partition. “Ms. Pope? Ms. Williams? We have arrived.”
“Thanks, Frankford!” I call, but before I can open the car door, Frankford is there opening it for me. “I can open my own door.”
He rolls his eyes! I know he did. No way was that a flicker of the light!
“You are just like Mr. Stone.”
“Thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiles.
Oh, Frankford has jokes. That’s good to know. “We shouldn’t be too long, Frankford.”
“Ma’am. Logan has booked the entire day. Shopping, spa, makeup, the works.”
“Oh, man, Whit. I like your boyfriend,” Charlie says in awe and grabs my hand leading me toward the boutique. “Bye, Frankford. See you soon!” she waves.
“Yes, Ms. Williams,” he nods, sliding back into his car.
We enter the first shop. Two sales associates are waiting for us. One takes Charlie, and the other takes me, and they immediately start sizing us with measuring tape.
“This. Is. Awesome.” Charlie giggles.
I’m excited, but I’ve experienced the amazing things Logan’s money can do, and I’m not shocked by it anymore. It’s still odd to know I’m dating a guy that has boatloads of cash, but the money doesn’t matter to me.
After they take our sizes, they send us to the fitting rooms with our robes. They are purple silk, and our initials are monogrammed on the front right breast. The fitting room is bigger than my bedroom, with hardwood floors and a mirror that takes up the entire wall. In the corner sits a glass of champagne. No, thank you. I’m already feeling the buzz from the three shots I had in the car.
The sale associate comes back with five dresses. One is beautiful. It looks a lot like the dress that he bought for me for our first date. The second is a light blue, but it reminds me of being a homemaker, so I go to the next one. My breath catches when I see it. It’s a gorgeous plum dress. It’s strapless, but one the side of the breasts it points high over the shoulder while the other side looks like it lays normally. The bodice is glitter, but it flares out at the hips into a tulle skirt with a cascading waterfall of glitter over it.
“I’d love to try on that one.”
“I knew you’d like that. Plus, it would look amazing with your skin tone and hair. I can’t wait to see it on you.” She takes it off the hanger, unzips it, and brings it over so I can step in it. I take off my robe, leaving me in panties and a strapless bra. She pulls it over me. It’s a perfect fit.
I gasp when I look in the mirror. It hugs my body, pushing my breasts up and making my legs look longer.
“Wow. You look stunning,” the brunette says, with a clap of her hands. Her smile is genuine, like she is happy I found a dress that I love.
“I love it.” I spin and about choke when I see how low the back goes. It dips into a deep ‘v’ and stops right above my ass. It’s sexy, but elegant at the same time.
“We have a perfect pair of light pink heels that will pair perfectly with that. Since it’s Valentine’s Day and all.”
After a few more hours of treatment, I am exhausted when it’s finally time to go. I can see Charlie’s eye’s drooping, too. Logan and Kyle were picking us up at my apartment at five, but hell, those shots put us out. We are plucked, waxed, and primped for the evening. My hair is down in long, luscious waves, and one side is pinned back behind my ear, so the point of the dress that peaks over my shoulder shows, while the other side is covered. My makeup is done naturally again, and I feel beautiful.
But I think I’d feel just as beautiful lying in bed. I’m so sleepy. We pass my apartment on the right, and I roll down the partition, leaning against the edge of the glass. “Frankford, that was our stop.”
“Logan contacted me and asked me to bring you to the fundraiser. Seems to be easier since I have you both in the car.”
I glance over at Charlie, who is asleep, her mouth wide open. A bit of drool is dripping on to her chin. I get my phone out of my purse and take a few blackmail pictures because one never knows.
“Ah, okay. Makes sense.”
“You and your friend look very becoming, Ms. Pope.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.”
I look back over at Charlie and wince. She’s making a complete mess over her light pink dress with that drool. It’s a good thing the makeup artists gave us a few things to touch up our makeup with, because she is going to need a few touch-ups on her chin.
The tires roar down the road as we go to the hotel where the fundraiser is. We pass the ice cream stand that led to a few firsts for me. I blush and wave my hand in my face to try to cool down from the memory. I do not want Logan to see me like this. He wouldn’t hesitate to take me in the bathroom, lifting my dress, and fucking my brains out.
My face gets hotter. Those thoughts are not helping.
“We are here, Ms. Pope.”
Oh, that was fast. I nudge Charlie. “Charlie! Wake up. We’re here.”
No movement.
“Charlie!” I flick her nose, and she snorts awake, glancing around frantically like she doesn’t know where she is. “Girl, get your compact out and fix that chin. Or Kyle is going to see what happens when you sleep, and he may not want to ever see you again.”
“No! Why didn’t you wake me up!”
“You looked peaceful.”
“Liar. You took photos.”
I giggle deviously. “Hehe. Maybe.”
She dries her chin off with a napkin and dabs powder on her face with the compact the makeup artists gave us. When I peek out the window, I see Logan and Kyle standing there. Logan looks amazing, as always, but the person who makes me fall over in shock is my brother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a tuxedo before, and his hair is up in a neat man bun, and he shaved. Holy freaking crap, he shaved his beard off.
Momentous occasion. I always hated that beard.
I slide my gaze toward Logan, and my blood runs cold. From the car, even through tinted windows, I can tell that his right eye is black. I fumble with my purse, yanking my phone out to see that it’s on silent. The screen shows fift
een messages from my brothers. It only takes me half a second to put it together. I’m fuming. I’m pissed. How dare he hit Logan!
“Whit? What’s wrong?”
I step out of the car and throw my phone on the ground, shattering it, and make my way up the steps in my five-thousand-dollar dress and three-thousand-dollar heels. It is freaking outrageous, if you ask me.
“I told you she would be pissed,” Kyle leans, ‘whispering’ into Logan’s ear. He never grasped the concept of a hushed tone.
“No? Really? Why would I be mad?” I snap.
Kyle steps away, his eyes locked onto Charlie who is coming up the steps behind me. “Wow.”
I point at him. “You. Go.”
“And you.” I slide my finger toward Logan. “Up the stairs. Take me to the bathroom now.”
“You look beautiful, Cherry.”
I huff, pushing past him as I stomp my way down the hall. My heels echo with every click, driving me a bit madder. “So do you,” I say with anger and tears.
“You passed it,” Logan calls, and when I turn, I see that he’s pointing toward the restroom.
I march back toward him, grab the lapels of his tuxedo, and drag him in the bathroom, slamming the door. The sound reverberates off the wall, making the metal of the stalls shake.
“You’re going to tell me how the hell you got that black eye right now.”
Logan
Staring into her green eyes doesn’t make this easier. My Cherry has a temper on her, matching her red hair and fiery spirit. I love it.
“Cherry? Calm down. I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?” she grabs my chin and turns me to the mirror. “Does that look fine to you?”
I make a face, pinching my lips together as I stare at the damage. “It didn’t look that bad five minutes ago.” Black and purple coat my right eye, and the colors seem to get darker with every second that passes.
I glance at her eyes locking onto my wound, and her bottom lip quivers. The sign that she is about to cry. “Aw, Cherry. It’s fine. I promise. It doesn’t hurt. See? Don’t cry. You’ll mess up your makeup.”
The Hangover Page 16