Auctioned on Valentine's Day: A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance

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Auctioned on Valentine's Day: A Second Chance Stepbrother Romance Page 132

by Amy Brent


  I sat there on the bench placating myself, telling myself I had done the right thing and I was lucky to not have to deal with another woman in my life. People came and went past me and through the park until the sun was high in the sky. I watched a couple dance across the ice, moving and skating in motion with each other. You could almost see the connection between them as they gazed into each other’s eyes. There was nothing but trust as he tossed her in the air, watching her spin and land perfectly. People around them clapped, skating to the side to watch them finish their routine. From the outside, they looked like this perfect couple, but I knew that didn’t exist. It was just for show.

  I stood up and started to walk away, heading back to the entrance where I had come in. I shook my head and shoved my hands in my pockets. I was tired of all the bullshit, of the drama, and of relationships. Love was a load of shit, and if I didn’t know that before, I knew it now, thanks to Emma.

  Chapter 8

  Emma

  “Huh?” I groaned, jolting awake on my bed in the hotel room.

  The girls were banging on the door, and I was sprawled out sideways on the bed. My head was pounding from the amount of alcohol I had consumed the night before. I remembered thinking of how drunk I still was on my cab ride back to the hotel and then getting to my room, changing into a pair of knit shorts and a T-shirt and passing out on the bed. I should have drunk water, but when I lay down, I just wanted the world to stop spinning under my feet. The night before had been an interesting one, that was for damn sure. I had gotten out of Brandt’s place as quickly as I could, feeling like an asshole for sleeping with a married father. God, I was no better than the whore Alex was sleeping with behind my back, worse even since Alex and I weren’t even married.

  I pulled myself to my feet, rubbing my head and stumbling over to the door. I pulled it open and groaned, stumbling back into the living room and falling onto the couch. The girls piled into the room, taking survey of the space around them to make sure there was no one else there. They sat down in the chairs and looked at each other, smirks across their faces. I was pretty sure they had an idea of what happened the night before, and though I was not in the mood to talk, or be alive for that matter, I knew I was going to have to answer a bunch of questions from them. I disappeared from a party in the middle of a huge city that I didn’t live in, and then I ignored their texts all night long. There was one of two reasons that could happen, so since I was still alive and not being made into a lampshade, that only left one other option.

  “You look like you’re suffering.” Caroline chuckled.

  “I had too many Pancreases last night,” I grumbled.

  “What? Are you still drunk?”

  “I wish.” I pulled myself into a sitting position. “Pancreas, it was Cupid’s Pancreas, the drink I downed like water last night. I think it was vodka and soda but I’m not sure. I just know my head feels like it was put through a meat grinder.”

  “Here. Take these.” Gillian handed me aspirin and water.

  “Thanks.” I took them quickly and sat back to finish the entire bottle of water.

  “Sooo, where’d ya go last night?” Caroline asked, looking at her nails.

  I looked over at her with squinted eyes. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “We want to know all about this guy.” Gillian scooted forward in her chair as if there were a show to watch. “Who was he, what was he like, and what happened between you two? You know, give us the details.”

  “His name is Brandt,” I said, sighing. “He was really nice, funny, sarcastic like me even. We talked all evening, drinking, laughing, having a good time. We went back to his place, drank a little more, and then had really hot sex in his bedroom. It was a release, a separation from the stress, but with someone I felt incredibly comfortable with, someone who made me feel like I could trust him. I don’t know how to describe it, something in his eyes I guess.”

  “That sounds really romantic,” Gillian said with her mouth hanging open.

  “Uh, yeah,” Caroline replied. “I’m so glad you met him. That sounds like exactly what you needed. Did you get his number? Are you going to stay in touch with him after this?”

  “I’m not done.” I shook my head and looked down. “After the sex, I got out of bed to get a glass of water. I was standing in the kitchen, almost reveling in my nativity like an idiot. I walked over to the fridge and realized he had a little girl. That’s no big deal. Many people have children. However, on that same fridge was pictures of the little girl with her mother, and all three of them together when the girl was a baby. She was wearing a wedding ring and so was he in the pictures.”

  “Oh God,” Gillian said. “What did you do?”

  “I went back to face him, to tell him how I thought about him, but he was passed out,” I said. “So, I gathered my things and got out of there as fast as I could, not looking back. I took a cab back here, changed my clothes, and passed out on the bed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gillian said.

  “I’m not,” Caroline replied. “Don’t look at me that way. You had no idea he was married. He lied to you. You need to forget about it, dust yourself off, and stop beating yourself up for no reason. Think about it as having a good time on vacation, where you vacated your life for one night. This does not need to be a big deal. I love you. Don’t let it bring you down further.”

  “I feel like a hypocrite,” I said angrily.

  “Emma, I think Caroline is right,” Gillian said. “You had no idea, and now you’re using this to pull yourself down. Its noble to feel this way, but let it go and remember the hot sex and good conversation and leave it at that.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said, trying to please them. “Maybe I should just be glad for having such a good time.”

  “Good,” Caroline said. “Now get dressed and meet us in the lobby. We’re going exploring!”

  “All right.” I smiled, walking them to the door. “Be down in a few.”

  I shut the door and stood there, feeling the same as I did when I’d seen the pictures. Maybe they could let something go like that, but I couldn’t. It was too hard. I sighed and jumped in the shower, washing the remnants of the night before down the drain. I was happy to smell the floral scent of my shampoo. It got rid of the smell of Brandt’s cologne. I got out of the shower and dried my hair, scrunching it and then pulling it back into a loose braid. I pulled on some jeans, a sweater, boots, and my wool coat, hoping I wasn’t going to be too cold. The shower helped the hangover, and now I was feeling hungry.

  When I got downstairs to the lobby, Gillian handed me a bagel and smiled, putting her arm around my shoulders. I knew she got why I was upset, but I understood Caroline’s point of view as well. I was just going to try to enjoy the day and not let this ruin my vacation with the girls. We started out walking all over the city, stopping in shops, laughing at Caroline for buying so much, and tasting pretty much every food on the way. I was going to gain fifty pounds in New York, but I didn’t care. I was just having fun. It was almost unreal walking between the huge buildings that shot straight up into the sky. I felt like a tiny ant making my way along the city streets, lost in the maze of giants. Everything was so different in Camden, and the tallest building there was the church on Tucker Road with the high steeple and giant cross at the top. The church would have looked like nothing more than a shoebox inside New York’s towering walls.

  Every window had a sign, every restaurant offered the best cup of coffee in the city, and every block had some sort of advertisement for clothes I would never be able to afford. It was luxurious and exotic to me, and I felt like my problems may not be as big as I felt they were back in Camden. There, everything seemed huge, but in the city, everything in life was dwarfed next to the stories of glass and steel. When Caroline had her fill of shopping, she called her driver and had him pick up the bags to take back to the hotel.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Let’s eat lunch in the park.”


  “Which park?” Gillian looked at her map to find parks nearby.

  “Central Park, silly,” she said, laughing. “There’s a restaurant there, and I’ve heard they have the best food. We can sit outside and take in the sights and sounds from inside the grass sanctuary.”

  “I like that idea,” I said, putting my arm around her waist and reaching for Gillian.

  “Why not?” Gillian said, smiling and catching up with us.

  Caroline skipped ahead, and I walked along smiling, watching them lead the way. We were several blocks from the park’s main entrance, and I enjoyed the time, walking slowly as everyone sped past late for their lives. Everyone there was always in a hurry, but so was I back home. It only seemed more pronounced because there were so many of them. I looked in the different shop windows, stopped and smiled at a police officer on a horse, and watched sadly as a homeless man curled up on steaming grate to catch an afternoon nap. I felt like I was visiting another planet. Everything was so different from home, but despite the sights of poverty and dismay, I could understand why people fell in love with New York. It was an exciting place and definitely a city that never slept.

  As I crossed the street to the park, I slowed down, watching people carrying skates down a set of stairs. I walked toward the railing and looked down at an ice rink. There were all kinds of people there from children to the elderly, making their way around the ice. I smiled, watching as the crowd parted to the side, giving one specific couple room. They danced across the ice, holding each other close, their eyes locked. I could see the passion in their eyes, the trust between the two of them as he lifted her and tossed, her body spinning until she gracefully touched back down. The crowd clapped and watched as they continued their dance. I had never seen anything like it except on television, and as a child, I had been mesmerized by the sight of it. I put one foot down, wanting to watch them finish.

  “Emma,” Caroline called. “Come on. This way.”

  “But look,” I said, turning back to the skaters.

  “I know. They’ll be there all day.” Caroline laughed as she walked up and pulled me away.

  I kept my eyes on them as long as I could, watching their graceful movements. As I turned my head back, I stopped, watching a tall, dark-haired man standing and walking away from the rink. For a moment, I could swear it was Brandt, his hand shoved into his jeans pockets and his wool coat fit snugly around his strong body. My heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him again. He walked off into the park in a hurry, and I looked back at Gillian who was waiting for me with a smile. I shrugged the thought away, remembering why I’d left without a note in the first place. Even if it was him, there was no use in bringing it back up. It was better left dead and buried.

  I sighed and jogged to catch up with her, smiling as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. I was so glad I had friends like them. They made everything in life more bearable. I put my hands in my pockets to keep them warm and walked toward the restaurant.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I just thought I saw someone.”

  “Look, guys,” Caroline said, standing in front of a mime giggling.

  I was in New York, even if only for one last day, and I was going to try to ignore the voice in the back of my head. My life was just starting, and I had to let myself live it.

  Chapter 9

  Brandt

  It was Monday, and I was back to work after a weekend that had felt like it lasted forever. After I had walked in the park, I went back home, and Sicily and I spent the evening watching movies. On Sunday, we had lunch with Mom and then got ready for school the next day. It was a normal weekend, like nothing had ever happened on Friday night, but my mind knew differently. I couldn’t break myself out of the spell Emma had left with me. I was sitting there at my desk and hadn’t been down to the lab at all that day. I couldn’t get the girl out of my mind. I had tried all weekend, and by that point, I was exhausted from fighting it. So, I let my mind wander, hoping I would get it out of my system.

  Later that day, when I finally had gotten into the groove of at least answering emails, Trevor knocked on my doorframe, leaning against it with a smile. He walked over to the chairs and sat down, looking around the office. I hadn’t texted him back, and he still had no idea what had happened to me Friday night. I was pretty sure, though, by the grin on his face, he had some sort of idea.

  “I texted you all weekend,” he said.

  “I know,” I replied, still typing. “I got busy with Sicily, and it slipped my mind.”

  “So, are you going to tell me what happened on Friday night, or am I going to have to beg?” he asked with a chuckle. “I saw you with that girl for most of the night, and then poof, you disappeared. Both of you disappeared actually. Where did you go? I don’t usually lose you like that unless you’re preoccupied. I know you weren’t with that Missy chick. I saw her drunk at the end of the night.”

  “No, I wasn’t with her,” I said, remembering my conversation with her. “I was at home with Emma.”

  “Emma.” He smiled. “I like that name. So, what happened?”

  “We had amazing conversation. She’s a spitfire with this heart of gold,” I said. “Then, we had sex. It was fucking amazing, by the way. She was like some sort of goddess in my bed, and when it was done, I watched her go out to get some water, still butt-naked.”

  “That is fucking awesome, man,” Trevor said. “I’ve really been worried about you. You need to take this girl out again. I can tell by the look on your face that you really enjoyed your time with her. I knew you’d get over this whole thing with your ex eventually. It just takes time and the right woman to pull you out of it.”

  “Yeah, well I’m not finished,” I said with a sigh, leaning back in my chair. “She went to get water, and I passed out. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. There was no note, nothing. She just dipped out without a word. In fact, I don’t think she ever actually got back into the bed. I think she dipped out as soon as she realized I was asleep.”

  “That’s weird,” Trevor said. “Did anything happen?”

  “No,” I said. “Nothing happened. We connected on a personal and physical level, not just a physical one. We hadn’t argued, she didn’t see put off by anything, and she was in a really good mood when she went to get something to drink. I looked everywhere to see if she left her number, but there wasn’t anything.”

  “What about with the front desk? Maybe she couldn’t find anything to write on,” Trevor said, pulling at straws.

  “I checked,” I said. “Nothing left there either. There was a notepad on the counter. She had ample opportunity to leave me something, anything, but she didn’t.”

  “Dude, you have to find her,” he said. “You have to contact the club and see if they have any information. Or find the place she said she worked. What does she do?”

  “She’s a graphic artist,” I said. “In Maine.”

  “Oh, damn,” Trevor said. “She doesn’t live here?”

  “No, she’s from a small town in Maine called Camden,” I said. “I know that and her first name. That’s it. Besides, what is the point of searching her down? If she wanted me to find her, she would have left a note, let me know how, but she didn’t. She left nothing behind. All she did was dip out just like my ex-wife. All women are the same. I’ve been telling you this the whole time. She seemed like an amazing girl, someone I clicked with, but apparently, I repel the things I want, not attract them.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for this,” Trevor said. “It’s obvious she had her issues. Maybe she has a husband and twelve kids at home or something.”

  “I doubt it.” I chuckled. “Either way, I’ll never find out, so that’s the end of that.”

  “Sorry, man,” Trevor said. “Hey, why don’t you come out for happy hour? I’ll buy you a drink, we can hate on women all night, and then you can feel better. Nothing cures a disappointment like whiskey and dumb bitches to talk
about.”

  “True.” I laughed. “But I am going to have to pass on this one. I want to spend some time with Sicily, actually put her to bed tonight. I don’t really feel like being around all of those people anyway. They just piss me off.”

  “All right, man,” he said. “I’ve got to get to a conference call, but you know where I’ll be if you change your mind.”

  “Appreciate it, brother.” I gripped his hand briefly before he left.

  I went back to work, trying to get it off my mind, and finished up the paperwork that had been piling up since the week before. When I was done, I went down to the lab for a little while, knowing tinkering with my inventions always made me feel better. After a half an hour of not feeling better, though, I gave up and headed out of the office. My mom was at the apartment cooking dinner, and I didn’t want to be late. As the car drove me back, I caught myself checking every face on the street, wondering if I would see Emma. I didn’t know when she was leaving, and part of me wanted to confront her to find out what happened.

 

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