Wanderlust

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Wanderlust Page 9

by Roni Loren


  She squeezed her eyes shut. The images clawed at Aubrey’s mind, scraping at the steel doors that kept her memories locked away. Screams, her sister’s and her own, pierced through her brain. The acrid smell of burning oil and rubber seared her nostrils.

  “No,” she whispered. Not now. She couldn’t handle that. Not here. She gasped for breath, suddenly unable to find enough air. She rested her head on the edge of the table, trying to slow the frantic thumping in her chest, trying to push away the things she didn’t want to remember.

  “Aubrey,” Lex said, touching her shoulder.

  She waved him off.

  Her father’s voice drifted from the sound system. “One of our daughters lost her life that night. The other has to live the rest of her days knowing that she was responsible for her sister’s death. Please don’t let yourself become either one of them.”

  Aubrey choked back tears, not wanting to break down in front of anyone, but she couldn’t control her breathing. Her shoulders rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Aubrey, you’re hyperventilating or having a panic attack or something, sit up, please. Let me look at you,” Lex pleaded.

  She counted to five silently, tucking her shattered emotions underneath a temporary mental couch, and then pushed away from the table. Grayson had silent tears tracking down his cheeks, preoccupied with his own pain. He didn’t even look at her. She didn’t blame him. Ashley had been his girlfriend at the time of the accident. Seeing those images had probably reminded him of who had taken her away from him, who had put his own life at risk.

  People around the room had turned to stare in her direction. Pity and sadness filled their faces but no forgiveness. No one forgave her, not even her parents. Because she didn’t deserve to be forgiven. Hearing her dad’s words in the video solidified what she already knew. They would never look at her and not be reminded of what she had taken from them. She could never be good enough, obedient enough, successful enough to change that. She could never be Ashley.

  So why should she keep trying? She straightened her shoulders and turned to Lex. “Get me out of here, right now, please.”

  Lex jumped out of his seat. “You got it, babe.” He put his hand out to her, which shook Grayson out of his daze.

  Grayson stared at Aubrey as if she had sprouted a second head. “What are you doing?”

  She grabbed her purse, her hands shaking. “I have to go.”

  “Well, you don’t need to go anywhere with him.” He shoved his chair away from the table. “I can take you home.”

  She shook her head vehemently, feeling as if she would splinter into a thousand pieces if she didn’t get out of the building. “No, you stay here. Talk with my parents. I need to be . . . away from all this. I can’t face any more of my past tonight.”

  Gray frowned. “Including me?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” She turned and resisted running full-tilt out of the building. She forced her wobbly legs to move at an even, calm clip.

  Lex jogged a few steps to catch up with her and slipped his palm onto her lower back, guiding her to the door. He pulled his cell out of his pocket with his other hand and dialed. “Robbie, pull the car around front.”

  The limo was idling at the curb when they made it to the front of the hotel. Aubrey climbed in and sagged against the leather seat, a puddle of spent emotions. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. To her utter dismay, she felt a tear escape.

  Lex barked her street name to the driver.

  Her eyes snapped open. Imagining herself at home alone with only her thoughts scared the hell out of her. “No, I don’t want to go home yet. Take me to get a drink.”

  Lex shook his head. “Babe, you don’t—”

  “I want a drink,” she said, her voice regaining some strength.

  His eyes searched hers.

  “Please.”

  He blew out a resigned breath. “Robbie, take us to that place near the hotel. That one you told me about.”

  “You got it,” Robbie said.

  Lex punched a button to raise the privacy screen between them and the driver. Aubrey leaned her head back again, fending off the remnants of her panic attack. The leather cushion grunted as Lex scooted closer to her. She gave him an apologetic look. “Some party, huh? Bet you wish you would’ve gone back to the strip club instead.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. With his thumbs, he wiped away the streaks of her tears. “God, Aubrey. Why in the hell would you put yourself through something like that? That was brutal.”

  She met his gaze. “They didn’t tell me what it was, just told me to be there.”

  “Fuck,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Are they trying to torture you? I mean, the things your dad said.”

  She shrugged, though everything felt stiff and tight. “Maybe in a way they are trying to punish me. I mean, I killed their daughter. I earned whatever comes my way, right?”

  He lowered his hands from her face. “That’s bullshit. You were a kid. You’re not a goddamned sociopath. Do you know how many times I drove drunk before I turned twenty? More than I can count. It was dumb and dangerous. But kids do stupid shit. I lucked out and didn’t hurt anyone. You weren’t as lucky. But isn’t losing your sister enough of a life sentence? Do they have to torment you with something you can’t go back and change?”

  She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. The sincerity in his voice made her want to cry all over again. No one had ever absolved her of her horrible mistake so wholeheartedly. She didn’t deserve that kind of pardon, but his absence of harsh judgment touched her on a level she couldn’t describe.

  “I just don’t know if I can do it anymore. I’ve tried my best to be everything my parents want. To be who Ashley would’ve been had she survived.” She lifted her head and met his eyes. “That’s why I stopped going to concerts and let go of my interest in music. Because my mother was convinced that it had encouraged my bad behavior.”

  His eyebrows dipped low. “What the hell would that have to do with anything?”

  “We were coming home from a concert that night,” she explained. “My sister wasn’t even into the band. The only reason she snuck out with me was because I begged her to get Grayson to drive us. And if he was going, then she had to be there.”

  “If Grayson drove you, how’d you end up behind the wheel?”

  She sighed. “I have no idea. I can’t remember anything after we left the concert. I know we were all drinking, but only because Gray filled in the gaps for me. My mind blocked the rest out. Well, until tonight. Some things seeped through.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed her running nose. She probably looked like a bad mug shot version of herself right now. “Let’s not talk about it anymore, all right? I’m not usually like this. I’m not a crier.”

  “Nothing wrong with getting that shit out.” He gave her knee a squeeze and then shrugged out of his suit jacket. “But it’s not a problem. Consider the topic dropped. You’re in charge. What would you like to do instead?”

  She dried her eyes and took a deep breath, rebelliousness brewing in her. Today had sucked. Tonight had been worse. And all because she’d been jumping through hoops to do what everyone expected of her today. Badgering Lex for an interview to please her boss. Giving Grayson the benefit of the doubt to please him. Attending the event to please her parents. Doing everything on everyone else’s agenda had gotten her nowhere good. She needed a goddamned break.

  She plucked her lip gloss from her purse and ran it over her lips, only a slight tremor in her hand. Then she met Lex’s eyes with a steady gaze. “Tonight, I want to forget. At least for a few hours. And you’re going to help me.”

  “Uh-oh,” he said, blue eyes wary. “That could get messy.”

  “I hope so.” She tugged the bobby pins out of her hair, letting the strand
s fall loose and watching him watch her. “I think I need a little messy in my life tonight.”

  Chapter 8

  Lex nursed his first beer as Aubrey polished off yet another martini. For a girl who hadn’t had alcohol in ten years, she was knocking them back rather efficiently. She fished the olive out of the bottom of her glass and brought it to her lips. Her eyes sparkled when they met his. She sucked the pimento out of the olive. Jesus. His shifted his position in the velvet club chair and put his beer down. “Babe, why don’t you let me take you home? Believe me, you don’t want to know what a martini hangover feels like. It’s not pretty.”

  She sighed and sagged into her overstuffed chair. “This place is swanky,” she said, looking from left to right. “I should put it on my list to review. I bet the food’s killer.”

  “We could order you something,” he offered. Something to absorb the alcohol would be good.

  She waved her hand at the male waiter, who strode over with a runway walk.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his face pulled into a practiced elegance.

  “One more martini, please.”

  Lex groaned. “And bring us some of those”—he pointed to the first thing on the tapas menu— “shrimp.”

  “Excellent choice,” he said, as if Lex were looking for some kind of approval.

  “Ooh, shrimp,” Aubrey said, nodding. “Yum. I love shrimp.”

  He chuckled. Even in the dim bluish light of the bar, she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Her hair fell in messy waves around her shoulders, and her face glowed with an almost childlike exuberance. She seemed to be letting herself forget, if only for a little while. Lex took another sip of his beer without moving his eyes away from her.

  God, what a fucking nightmare she’d been through. During the entire presentation, he had fought the urge to scoop her up and drag her out of there. He had started the night with the plan to invade her territory and stir things up with her tool of an ex-boyfriend, but he hadn’t planned to witness all of her skeletons laid bare for public viewing. Shit. Who could blame her for wanting to spend the evening in a martini-induced haze?

  “Aubrey?” a male voice boomed from behind Lex. He turned to face a short, impeccably dressed man, smiling wide. He stepped around Lex’s chair and sidled up next to Aubrey’s like Lex wasn’t even there. “Aubrey Bordelon?”

  Aubrey looked up from her drink and squinted. “Bradley?”

  He laughed a high-pitched, nervous laugh that sounded like chipmunks having sex. Well, what Lex imagined that sounded like. “Yeah. I would’ve never expected to see you here. Isn’t your father’s charity thing tonight?”

  Her expression darkened. “It is. I already stopped by.”

  Bradley’s smile flickered but didn’t fade. The distinct vibe of asshole radiated from the guy. Lex sat forward in his chair and cleared his throat.

  Aubrey’s gaze darted toward Lex. “Lex, this is Bradley Cavanaugh. He’s the son of the incumbent mayor, my dad’s opponent. Bradley, this is my friend Lex.”

  Lex exchanged terse nods with him, not in the mood to make nice.

  The waiter slipped in and dropped off Aubrey’s drink and the appetizer. Bradley’s attention strayed to the table, alighting on the glass, and then he turned back to Aubrey, the quirk in his expression like a shark scenting blood in the water. “Martini, huh?”

  Her eyes narrowed in warning.

  But of course this yahoo wasn’t going to leave the jibe at the subtle stage. “I thought you didn’t believe in drinking because of, well, you know.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in being a dick, but apparently, people change.”

  Lex snorted and almost inhaled his swallow of beer. He coughed to hide his smile.

  Bradley’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I won’t take that personally. Clearly, you’re drunk off your self-righteous ass. Glad your dad is always talking about his family’s strong values. Does he know his daughter left a Families Against Drunk Driving event to go out and get hammered?”

  “Hey,” Lex stood, towering over the guy, and pressed his fingers into the jerk’s chest, ready to shove him on his ass if it came down to it. “That’s enough, little man. Say one more word to her, and you’ll get a new definition of what it means to be hammered.”

  Bradley’s lips spread into a cocky smile, and he stepped back putting his hands up in front of him. “Hey, no worries, guy. I just wanted to say hi to an old friend.”

  Aubrey rose, swaying ever so slightly. “Go to hell, Bradley.” She linked arms with Lex. “We were about to leave anyway. The crowd has gotten decidedly less appealing.”

  Lex tossed a few bills on the table and grabbed Aubrey’s elbow, ready to get her away from this prick. But as he guided her toward the door, she stumbled in her heels. Lex tried to keep her steady, but her momentum worked against him, propelling her backward. She landed on her butt with an ungraceful thud, and all heads turned in their direction.

  “Dammit,” she said reaching out to her foot. She pulled off her shoe and frowned at the heel of her pump, which was bent at an unnatural angle. “These are my best black shoes.”

  Lex put a hand under her arm and helped her to a stand. “Come on, babe. I’ll get you another pair of shoes. Let’s get out of here.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw Bradley grinning. Little shithead. It took everything Lex had not to stalk back toward the guy and punch the smarminess right off his face. But he knew it would only make things worse for Aubrey if he made a scene, so he turned and led her outside to the limo.

  Despite the tense exchange they’d just been through, Aubrey laughed as the limo pulled away from the club. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

  She bent over and slipped off her other shoe, her breasts threatening to spill out the top of her dress. Despite the anger still running through his blood, Lex couldn’t help but feel the tug of lust as he took in the lush view. His hands itched to reach out and run along the curves, to feel the heat of her against his palm.

  “Don’t sweat it,” he said, shifting in his seat.

  She wiggled the toes of her left foot, which were sticking out of her stockings. “These are ruined, too. Oh, well.”

  She straightened her legs and tugged at the panty hose, sliding them down.

  His mouth suddenly forgot how to make spit. He coughed. “Um, we aren’t far from your house. Don’t you want to wait to do that?”

  She finished removing the stockings then balled them in her hand.

  “What? Were you hoping to take them off for me?” She gave a smile worthy of a halo. “And who said I wanted to go home?”

  He wiped his hand along the back of his neck where droplets of sweat had formed. “I’m not buying you any more drinks. You’ll be sick as hell in the morning, and you’ll blame me.”

  “I’m not talking about more drinks, Lex. I’m talking about going to your hotel.” She tossed the wad of nylon onto the floor and slid next to him on the seat. “Isn’t that what you wanted the night of the concert when you invited me backstage? For me to come with you?”

  She cocked her head in challenge.

  Every muscle in his body coiled and tensed. Yes, that was exactly what he’d wanted, what he still wanted. But not like this. Each word stuck in his throat as he forced out the protest. “Aubrey, your chemical makeup is about thirty percent vodka right now. You’re not thinking straight.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, putting her finger under his chin and turning him to look at her. Her eyes were sharp, determined, and wickedly beautiful. “This is the clearest thinking I’ve done in years. I’m only buzzed. You want me, and I want you. Simple logic, right? No ties, no feelings, just a little fun. Be my fling, Lex. I promise I won’t expect you to call me in the morning.”

  He groaned and let his head fall against the seat. His hands flexed and dug into the le
ather. “The universe has a sick fucking sense of humor. I can’t even tell you how badly I want to rip that dress off and take you right here.”

  She kneeled and moved her leg across his lap until she was straddling him, her dress bunching up around the outsides of her thighs. “Then take me, Lex. Right here.”

  Her throaty tone indicated a challenge, not a request. He had heard women say the dirtiest, most pornographic things to him in the past—things that could have made Hugh Hefner do a double take—but he couldn’t remember anything ever sounding sexier than the simple statement she’d uttered. Ms. Proper, the girl who worried about grass stains on her shorts and about maintaining professionalism at all costs, was asking—no, demanding—for him to fuck her. All the blood in his body flooded into his dick, switching his operating system from conscious thought to autopilot. He twined his fingers into her hair and dragged her mouth down to his.

  She kissed him back as if she would die without his breath—taking and giving in equal measure. Her hands grappled with the buttons of his dress shirt, pulling and yanking at the fabric like a woman possessed. Once she had the top three buttons undone, she moved her mouth down, kissing the cords of his neck. Never in his wildest imaginings would he have pictured Aubrey taking the lead. He was a guy who liked the control, who did the seducing. But Aubrey was halfway down his chest now and moving lower without fear, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop her. Lex banged his fist against the privacy window, and Robbie started to lower it.

  “Take us to the hotel. Service entrance,” Lex said.

  “We’re almost at her house.”

  “Hotel, now,” he barked, trying to hold in a gasp of pleasure that gathered at the back of his throat.

  “You got it.” A low chuckle escaped Robbie as he raised the screen.

  Lex grabbed Aubrey’s head and gently guided her back to his mouth. “I wasn’t done with this part.”

 

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