by Linnea May
She’s right about that, and I’m sure I’m going to regret a lot of tonight’s decisions tomorrow. But that’s future-Lila’s problem.
And it sure as hell shouldn’t be any of Elene’s problems, not tonight nor tomorrow.
“Please, Lila,” she says, stepping even closer so only I can hear her whispered words. “I know tonight is hard for you, but—”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”
She casts me a confused look. “I’m not Mom,” she hisses. “Why are you acting like this?”
Because I’m fucking drunk, wasted, intoxicated to a level that I shouldn’t be.
Of course, I can’t admit any of that. But I can get out of Elene’s watchful eye and make sure she’s no longer subjected to my misdeeds. She has other things to worry about right now.
“I’m fine,” I repeat, fighting hard not to slur my words. “But I really need to go to the bathroom right now, so if you’ll excuse me….”
I take a step back—not staggering—and free myself from her touch. Her hand glides off my shoulder, her eyes never leaving mine as she allows me to distance myself from her.
I don’t know what’s worse, the shame that overcomes me as I’m faced with Elene’s worrisome look, or the guilt I feel when reminding myself that her concern is justified.
“Maybe you should go up to your room and lie down a little,” she suggests. There’s no reproach in her voice, no anger, no blame, just that damn worry and something else, something that makes me feel even worse.
Pity.
She’s not only worried about me, she feels sorry for me.
“I’m fine,” I insist for the umpteenth time. “I’ll just splash some water on my face and I’ll be good as new.”
Even I don’t believe it, but my words suffice to stop Elene from holding me back when I turn away and proceed to the restroom.
“I’ll behave,” I promise in a whisper that’s not audible to her.
I’ll behave. I’ll be responsible, predictable, normal.
I’ll be good.
I’ll be fucking good.
Chapter 6
Kade
He saw it. The guy who barged in on us saw what happened between the maid of honor and me, and he’s not trying to hide it. The side eye he gives me after lighting his cigarette is enough of a tell. It’s that sleazy look that men exchange in an attempt to congratulate one another for scoring.
But even in the dark I can tell he’s studying me. He’s probably trying to place me, like everyone else did tonight. He furrows his eyebrows, revealing the focus as he tries to connect the dots.
I give him a polite but distant nod and turn away, taking another pull on a cigarette I never planned to smoke while my attention returns to the black vastness in front of us. I have no intention to engage in small talk with him and am prepared to endure a few minutes of awkward silence, but the guy has other things in mind.
“Didn’t know she already had a new one,” he says after releasing a cloud of thick smoke into the dark. “That was quick.”
I cast him a glance from the side but don’t fully turn around to face him. “Excuse me?”
He nods back to the french doors that lead inside.
“That was the bride’s sister, no? What’s her name again?” He twirls his hand in an impatient gesture, beckoning me to help him out. But I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The girl and I never wasted time on pleasantries.
“Lila! That’s her name,” he finally exclaims, throwing his hand up in the air. “She never mentioned her fiancé? They just broke up a few weeks ago.”
Lila. Such an innocent name for such a naughty girl. I fucking love it.
He leans in closer, desperately searching for eye contact that I’m not willing to give. “Quite a nasty story so shortly before the wedding. And it came out of nowhere, too! Poor guy didn’t see it coming. She just threw him out on the street, just like that.” He snaps his fingers to emphasize his impertinent ramblings.
“That’s none of our business.” I throw him a dark look.
He laughs.
“Buddy, I’d say it’s yours for sure,” he says, still chuckling. “Maybe she left him for you.”
I’m sure the darkness hides the fact that my eyes almost roll out of my head at his words, but I wouldn’t mind if he saw.
Who is this guy? Why does he think it’s appropriate to talk to me like this? He must be drunk.
“I can assure you that’s not the case,” I say.
“Well, something must’ve gotten into her,” the guy insists. “I’ve known this family for years, and she’s always been the good one. Her sister, though, different case. Boy, did she give her family a headache! They were so worried about her. ‘At least Lila’s doing well,’ they used to tell me. And now look at them. Guess you never know, huh?”
I scrunch my eyebrows as I try to make sense of his words, an expression that he takes the wrong way, luckily.
“I’m not trying to badmouth her or anything, but… I mean, you know—”
“No, I don’t know. But if you’re a friend of the family, you’d do best to stop talking now.”
He glares at me, visibly upset at being put in his place.
I couldn’t care less. I take one last pull before I push the cigarette out on the stony balustrade in front of us, nodding at him before I turn around and make my way inside without another word. He looks as if he wants to say something or try to stop me, but I close the door behind myself as quickly as I flit through it.
I have to find her. I need to see her again, taste her again.
I need so much more of her.
Lila. The good girl who broke free when no one expected her to.
She may not realize it herself yet, but I’m just what she needs right now, if my assumptions about her are right. And my senses have yet to fail me when it comes to women and their needs.
She called out for me, louder than anyone before, her lure sweeter than any other.
That girl needs me just as much as I need her.
But she’s nowhere to be found. I scan the festive hall again and again, traveling between evening gowns and dark suits left and right, ignoring all the eyes that seek mine in a greeting. My focus is set on one goal: finding the girl whose divine gasp as my hand closed around her throat I can’t forget.
I grow angrier with every moment that passes, but not desperate. I know it’s only a matter of time until I find her, until she’s back in my grip and I get to hear that faint sigh again, see her bright eyes widen as I take from her while giving her something she never knew she needed.
“Lost something?”
Her words startle me so much that I can’t stop myself from flinching in surprise before I turn on the spot. She’s standing right behind me, still with that drunken glow on her pretty cheeks, her eyes glazing as she looks up at me. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and she tilts her head to the side, a challenge flickering across her expression. Her pinned-up hairstyle has come lose a little, blonde strands tickling the side of her face as she moves.
“You,” I say, jutting my chin forward. “Didn’t think you could just run away from me like that, did you?”
She shrugs. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
She closes in on me, much to my surprise. But when she raises her hand to touch me, I retreat, turning with cautious looks around us.
“Not here,” I hiss at her. “And not now.”
The expression on her face changes, replacing the defiant yet shy smile with a frown. She’s swaying as she stands before me, her hand frozen midair.
That guy on the balcony may have been a drunken outlier, but just in case he was merely giving voice to thoughts that a lot of people share about her in here, I need to get her out of this room, away from hundreds of judging eyes before she harms her reputation. Her intoxication is bad enough to keep me at bay for tonight, but that doesn’t mean I can’t leave an impression on her, protect her, give to her—and take from her.<
br />
I need to make sure I’ll see her again.
One night would never be enough for a girl like her.
Chapter 7
Kade
“You need a glass of water.”
She narrows her eyes and glares at me like an unruly child who just got scolded.
“I’m fine,” she insists, adding a pout to her defiant attitude.
“I’m sure you are,” I agree. “But you’re going to drink a glass of water.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
She scoffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Her attitude enrages me as much as it intrigues me. I wonder how long she’d be able to keep this up if we were alone and I told her to kneel in front of me, naked, a collar around her pretty neck. It would suit her.
“Come,” I say, pointing to the bar. “Let’s get you some water.”
Her lower lip drops as another huff escapes her. She casts me an indignant look, slowly shaking her head as if she can’t believe her ears. Nevertheless, she follows my gesture and moves where I’m telling her to.
I follow closely behind her, catching a pair of eyes as I survey our surroundings. The bride, her sister, is watching us from afar, her worried expression resting on Lila first before she turns to me. A slight frown casts a shadow over her face when she realizes I’m following her sister. I’m a stranger to them, and I can’t blame her for justified suspicions regarding my intentions.
Still, I give her a reassuring nod, if only to make her feel safe—and to make sure she’ll leave us the fuck alone. She should have other things on her mind on her wedding day.
“A glass of water, please,” Lila tells the server behind the bar, enunciating every syllable and casting me a look from the side afterward.
“And a bourbon for me, neat,” I add.
Her eyebrows arch. “Oh, so you get to have another drink but I don’t?”
“I’m not the one who can barely stand straight.”
She purses her lips instead of objecting. Good for her.
As soon as we receive our drinks, I turn around and walk away from her with slow but deliberate steps. Even without looking I can tell she hesitates for a moment before following me like an obedient puppy. We meander through the room, moving casually but never stopping. I want to be alone with her, but since the balcony is no longer an option, I’ll have to find another spot to hide from unwanted observers.
The first step was to get out of her sister’s sight by moving to a smaller room next to the banquet hall. There are fewer people in here, but still too many for comfort. I can feel her presence closely behind my back as I aim for a door at the far end of the room. I walk with purpose, giving the impression that I know my way around this place, even though I have no idea where I’m going.
The door opens with ease and, much to my surprise, there’s a completely deserted room hidden behind it.
Lila follows me inside, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder. She’s the one who shuts the door behind us, and I’m the one who finds the lock and closes it with an audible click that causes her to jerk up.
I can feel her anxious eyes on me when I turn away to inspect the room we just sought refuge in. It’s very similar to the one we just passed through, bright and airy, but a lot smaller and with fewer seating accommodations. It’s obvious that it wasn’t intended for use tonight, as it appears neglected and empty, sporting nothing but a few forgotten chairs gathered around two small tables.
“And now?” I hear her soft voice behind my back.
I turn to face her, pointing to a table nearby. “Now we’ll sit and talk while you drink your water.”
She raises an eyebrow at me but heads to a chair. Her motions are still unstable and lack purpose, but I can tell she’s trying to pull herself together. Her dainty fingers grace along the side of the tabletop as if she was seeking support while sinking into one of the chairs, spilling a little water on the clear white surface as she places the glass in front of her. Her gaze follows me as I sit down facing her, my drink finding its place next to hers.
We’re very close, but not as close as we were on the balcony. Yet.
“So, Lila—”
“How do you know my name?” She looks alarmed.
I shrug. “Is it a secret? You’re the bride’s sister. Pretty much everyone here knows your name.”
“Wrong,” she objects. “You didn’t. We’ve never met before.”
I shake my head, but before I can say another word, she blurts out, “At least tell me yours, too.”
“Kade, my name is Kade.”
She seems surprised that I responded to her request.
“Kade what?”
“Kade Armitage.”
We frown at each other, and I can see her mind working, still trying to figure out who I am or what kind of relationship I could possibly have with either her sister or the groom.
Good luck, little girl.
“How come I’ve never seen you before?” she asks eventually. She looks tense, her shoulders up to her ears and her arms crossed in front of her chest. I don’t like this defensive stance on her.
“Is that really the most pressing question you have for me right now?” I retort, relishing the way she twitches at my words.
“What else would I ask you?”
I shrug, shifting closer to her so our knees touch. She doesn’t move away and keeps her legs just the way they were before, but I can tell it takes a lot of strength for her to do so.
“That’s what you’re getting wrong here, Lila. You’re not the one to ask questions. I am,” I tell her, catching her anxious gaze even though she tries to shy away. “Is that clear?”
Her lips part ever so slightly, giving room to nothing but a silent gasp. Is she appalled? Intimidated? Aroused? Possibly all of those things—which I’m sure is confusing to her right now. Her red lips move as if she’s about to speak, but no sound escapes her.
“Good,” I say, ignoring the fact that she never gave me a clear response. “Now, I have a question for you. Was I right?”
She pinches her eyebrows and clears her throat, as if she’s just been woken from a trance. “About what?”
“About what I said on the balcony,” I clarify. “About you not liking nice boys.”
An audible exhale is all the response she gives.
“You can act indignant all you want. It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I know what I saw, what I sensed when I put my hand around your beautiful neck. I’ve seen that look before, the way your eyes widened, the way you sighed, the way you—”
“All right, all right.” She waves her hands as if to shoo me away. “So what if I liked it? It was still… wrong. You shouldn’t have done it.”
I can’t suppress my laugh at her ramblings. “I disagree.”
“Why did you do it? Why did I like it? It’s weird! People don’t.” She shakes her head as if in disbelief. “People don’t do that.”
I place my palm on her shaking hand, gently squeezing as it disappears in mine. Instead of fighting me off, she releases a sigh that almost sounds like relief.
Her confusion is endearing, but her intoxication spoils the moment, accelerating every emotion she’s going through and making it hard to control or anticipate her next reaction. It puts me in a difficult situation, because someone as drunk as her is hard to control, hard to own without overstepping a line. I need to be ready for whatever her hammered brain has in store.
However, there’s nothing that could’ve prepared me for her next question.
She looks up at me, her eyes dazed and flickering with wonder.
“Is this what people do in The Velvet Rooms?” she asks, a telltale blush blossoming on her pretty face.
Chapter 8
Lila
A dark flutter scurries across his face in response to my question. Like the shadow of a passing plane, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was
there long enough to make me regret my words. I shouldn’t have been so blunt—I never am. The damn alcohol is making my tongue move on its own.
Why did I even mention The Velvet Rooms? It’s more than likely that the question doesn’t even make sense to him, because how would he know?
My pondering discomfort is quickly replaced by shock when he responds to my question with another one.
“How do you know about The Velvet Rooms?”
His voice is laced with worry and tension, and he fixates on me through narrow eyes—like someone who’s just been caught doing something wrong.
Shit. If he knows about the Velvet Rooms, that means…
“You’ve been there,” I conclude. “You’re a customer at that place.”
“Why do you mention The Velvet Rooms? How do you know about them?”
Instead of replying to his inquiry, I just sit there, eyes wide and lips parted as if I was about to speak. My lower lip quivers while I continue my search for the right words.
It would be easy to tell him the truth. My sister. I know about that place because she’s not only been there but worked there until she met her husband.
But it’s not exactly like she’s advertising her past, and it feels wrong to just blurt it out to a random guest at her wedding.
“Have you ever been there?” he presses, and I shake my head on instinct.
“No,” I blurt out, still violently shaking my head. “I just… I’ve never been there, but….”
I pause, and as I try to gather an excuse, any story that would explain my knowledge of The Velvet Rooms without having to mention Elene, I realize he managed to circumnavigate the question I posed by turning the tables.
“I’ve never been there,” I repeat, defiantly straightening myself as I catch his dark gaze. “But you have, right?”
He sighs, and for a moment I fear he still plans on denying me a response, fueling a growing anger within my chest. But when he slowly nods, that anger is replaced with something that carries a lot more weight.
Disappointment.
“Yes, I’ve been there,” he admits. “Quite a few times, actually.”