His Brat (Off Limits Book 1)
Page 3
My bladder spasmed again, and I pressed my thighs together with a groan. Resigned to the fact that I’d have to face Gabe sooner than I’d anticipated, I made my way back up the stairs. By the time I reached the top, I was hunched over and walking like a duck, but I bit my bottom lip and shuffled toward the fluorescent light that spilled into the alcove outside the bathroom.
Standing to the side of the open door, I kept my head turned away as I shoved my hand over the threshold and waved. “Uh, Gabe?”
“What, brat?” He sounded calm. Well, he didn’t sound angry.
I took that as a good sign.
“Hey, uh, do you think you can hurry?”
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
I couldn’t wait a minute. I couldn’t wait another second. “Okay, sorry, I’m coming in.” That was all the warning I gave before marching through the doorway. “Gabe!” He was still naked. I figured by now he’d have at least wrapped a towel around his hips. “Do you…can you…I think you should…” I spotted a neatly folded towel on the counter. “Here!”
He just stared at the thin, white towel I held out to him. “I’m good.”
“Please.” My bladder screamed as I shoved the towel at him more insistently. “Get out.”
I thought he’d argue with me, or at least point out that he’d been there first and that I was the one intruding. Thankfully, he took one look at my hunched-over posture—though, he ignored the towel—and waltzed out of the room, his gorgeous ass flexing with every step. He was even considerate enough to close the door behind him.
Alone, I wasted no time conducting my business. I may have actually closed my eyes and sighed in literal relief. When I finished, I lingered in the bathroom, hoping Gabe would use the extra time to put on some damn clothes before I had to see him again. I washed my hands and cleaned the makeup from my face with a washcloth. I even found a miniature, unopened toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.
I considered taking a quick shower, but I didn’t have any of my toiletries with me. Besides, I couldn’t hang out in the bathroom for the rest of my life, and honestly, it would probably be better to just get the coming lecture over with sooner rather than later.
There would be a lecture, too. There was always a lecture. I’d endured so many of them over the years, I could already guess how it would go.
You’re too reckless, Layla.
You don’t think before you act, Layla.
Your brothers didn’t pay for you to go to college so you can shake your ass on a bar, Layla.
We don’t want you to make the same mistakes we did, Layla.
Pretend-Gabe made valid points. He was also kind of a dick. I studied hard, and I never took for granted the sacrifices my brothers had made for me. I wasn’t really a partier like some of my friends, but I wasn’t a little girl anymore, either. The way I saw it, college—at least, in part—was about making my own mistakes and figuring out where I fit into the big, wide world. Obviously, the men in my life would beg to differ.
I spent a few more minutes in the bathroom preparing for the inevitable confrontation, then squared my shoulders and went in search of Gabe. Except, he wasn’t in the bedroom. I didn’t see him when I peeked over the railing to the lower level, either, but I heard his muffled voice, followed by the soft click of a door.
Curiosity outweighed any reservations, and I made my way down the winding staircase to find out who he’d been talking to at the door. I wasn’t sure exactly what I expected to find, but the sight that met me almost made me swallow my tongue.
“You opened the door like that?”
I knew I sounded accusatory, but really, it couldn’t be helped. Gabe stood near a rather ugly armchair, and while he wasn’t naked anymore, his black boxer briefs did little to contain his monster erection.
Or calm my racing pulse.
“Pizza.” Maybe he thought I was still drunk, because he then pointed at the white pizza box with green lettering that perched precariously close to the edge of the coffee table.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat.” His gaze returned to the table, and he nodded at the liter-sized bottle of water next to the pizza box. “Drink that, too.”
I almost told him that I wasn’t a child, and that I was perfectly capable of deciding if and when I was hungry—or thirsty—but something in his tone stopped me. He didn’t sound bossy and overbearing like he usually did.
He sounded…concerned.
Clearly, we weren’t going to talk about the fact that we’d seen each other naked, but he wasn’t yelling at me. So, I decided to bite my tongue and simply accept the olive branch he was offering.
“Thank you. What kind of pizza is it?”
“Your favorite. Pepperoni and mushroom.”
I giggled when he wrinkled his nose. Gabe hated mushrooms.
Thanking him again, I walked over and settled down on the blue sofa. It had definitely seen better days, and the cushion sagged in the middle, but I readjusted to a more comfortable position and opened the pizza box. Thin tendrils of steam rose up from the melted cheese, and it smelled absolutely divine. My stomach gave a loud growl in agreement, letting me know that I wasn’t quite as opposed to the idea of food as I’d pretended to be.
“Do you want some?”
He looked slightly horrified by the prospect. “I’ll pass.” Instead of sitting next to me on the sofa, he chose the adjacent armchair with its ugly floral upholstery. “How are you feeling?”
“Surprisingly okay.” I selected a slice of pizza and separated it from the rest. Once I’d finished picking off all the mushrooms, I placed it on a paper napkin and slid it toward the end of the table. “Um, where are my clothes?”
“The ones you were wearing or the ones in your suitcase?”
I thought it over and shrugged. “Both.”
“Your bag is in the closet upstairs.” He eyed the pizza with a strange mix of emotions I couldn’t quite read, but he didn’t reach for it. “I sent the clothes you were wearing out for dry cleaning.”
A glance at the digital clock on the nearest end table said it was just after two in the morning. Apparently, things like business hours didn’t exist if you were some fancy real estate developer with a boatload of cash.
“You didn’t have to do that.” As I spoke, I twisted the cap off the bottle of water and drank deeply from it before choosing my own slice of pizza.
“I kind of did. You woke up about half a block from the hotel and puked all over both of us.”
I dropped my head and groaned. Well, now I knew why he’d taken it upon himself to change me out of those clothes. It also explained why my brain was sort of tiptoeing through the haze of alcohol rather than swimming in it.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t like I’d had any control over it, but an apology felt appropriate. I also figured it was only polite to offer to pay him for the dry cleaning. “How much do I owe you?”
“Knock it off,” he growled, and he finally picked up the piece of pizza from the table. Instead of taking a bite, though, he just held it up and glared at me. “What the hell were you thinking, Layla?”
And things had been going so well, too. I’d foolishly assumed he was going to forego the lecture this time. “Can we not do this?”
“Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn’t found you?”
I winced, not from his harsh words, but at the thread of genuine anxiety in his tone. I’d known him my entire life, and not once could I remember him ever being afraid of anything. Maybe things had gotten a little crazy earlier, but I hadn’t meant to make him worry. I’d just wanted to have a fun night with my friends.
“Thank you.” I wouldn’t apologize for trying to have a life, but I could offer that concession. “For looking out for me,” I clarified when he arched an eyebrow. The pizza was halfway to my mouth when another thought occurred to me. “How did you find me, anyway?”
He snorted. “You’re joking, right?”
&
nbsp; I wasn’t, and I didn’t think I’d said anything funny. Actually, I was kind of proud of myself for acting like a rational human being when he was sitting five feet away in nothing but a pair of skin-tight underwear.
“Tell me.” At his huff of annoyance, I tacked on, “Please.”
All traces of humor vanished, and he stared at me with an intensity that made me fidget in my seat. “I followed the social media trail of drunk selfies.”
Oh, right. I vaguely remembered that. I was also pretty sure I hadn’t posted anything too salacious. In fact, I’d purposely kept any debauchery to a minimum so as not to give my overprotective brothers a reason to lose their minds. I just hadn’t counted on Gabe showing up when he had.
I probably should have. Now that I was sober enough for higher brain function, I remembered Aiden would also be in town for a wedding later in the week. I could only assume it was the same one since he and Gabe ran in a lot of the same circles. When I thought about how differently the night might have gone if Aiden had been the one to pull me off that bar, I was suddenly a lot more grateful for Gabe’s interference.
“You’re a good friend.” That probably sounded strange without any context, so when he grumbled the word back at me, I shrugged. “I’m just saying, tonight would have been worse if it had been one of my brothers instead of you.”
“Layla.”
“Yeah?” I answered, not looking at him as I picked off a pepperoni and popped it into my mouth.
“Brat, look at me.”
The way his tone shifted and his voice deepened made me tense, but I sat up a little straighter and turned toward him. “What?”
“I’m not Aiden or Noah.”
I frowned. “Yeah, obviously.”
He shook his head, his gaze so intense I could practically feel the weight of it. “You’re not listening to me.”
I’d heard everything he’d said. It just didn’t make any sense. “I’m listening.”
Dropping his slice of pizza back down on the table, he leaned forward, paralyzing me with those hypnotic blue eyes. “Layla, I’m not your brother.”
I stopped breathing. My stomach fluttered. My pulse tripped into a wild gallop. Before I could do anything more than blink, however, he stood and crossed the room, disappearing up the stairs without a word.
All I could do was watch him go and wonder what the actual fuck had just happened.
Chapter Three
The sound of loud music woke me out of a deep sleep.
Since it seemed like the band was playing right next to my ear, I wondered why on Earth I would have turned the volume of my alarm up so high. Groaning, I tried to fold the other half of my pillow over my head, then gave up and stuck out my hand, reaching for my phone on my nightstand. If I didn’t turn it off soon, my head felt like it was going to explode.
Where was my phone?
Actually, where was my nightstand?
It took a moment for my brain to catch up, but when it did, my eyes popped open and I sat up. Or I tried to sit up. Instead, I ended up sliding off the couch and found myself on the floor with a blanket tangled around my legs. Sunlight streamed through the small break in the heavy curtains, illuminating the large room enough for me to see that I wasn’t in the bedroom of my small apartment. Suddenly, every memory of the night before came flooding back to me with shocking clarity.
Mardi Gras.
Drinking and dancing.
Gabe dripping wet and naked. Oh, my god. He’d been so freaking naked.
It hadn’t been a dream. I was in his hotel room, wearing his shirt…because I’d thrown up on him. That fact hadn’t fully sunk in when I had woken up in the middle of the night. I had puked on him. How was I going to live with knowing he had seen me at my absolute worst?
It was official. I just had to avoid him for the rest of my life.
My gaze caught on the pizza box on the coffee table. I smacked my palm against my forehead, then yelped as my head throbbed in protest. I had naked pizza with Gabriel Turner. No, not naked. We’d had underwear pizza. Eww, that sounded gross. We’d sat in the living room area of his suite eating pizza in our underwear. Only, he hadn’t eaten any before he had escaped upstairs as if he couldn’t stand being around me for another second.
I, on the other hand, hadn’t really been able to concentrate on eating when he’d been sitting across from me looking so damn good in his black boxer briefs. Or maybe it had been the impressive erection hidden beneath the thin material that had made me focus on him instead of the food. Once he’d left the room, I’d managed to consume two small pieces of pizza along with the bottle of water he’d ordered me to drink.
He might be annoying, but sometimes he was right.
I had no idea what time it was, so I looked around for my phone, then realized I had never taken it out of my purse. I stood up and looked down at the couch. It probably pulled out to a bed, but I hadn’t bothered with that last night. When I had gone to sleep, I had curled up with one of the small decorative pillows. Sometime during the night, Gabe must have brought me the pillow and blanket. My heart fluttered at the thought of him checking on me.
Okay, he could also be sweet when he wasn’t being so bossy.
Since I couldn’t see much, I walked over to the curtains and pulled them back, revealing the door that led out to the balcony. I squinted my eyes in defense against the bright sunlight. The sound of the music had faded slightly, but I could still hear it coming from the street below. Curious, I opened the balcony door and stepped outside into the party that was Bourbon Street. Shuffling forward, I looked down at the crowds of people on the busy street.
I smiled when I saw a brass band surrounding a bride and groom as they danced with their wedding party in the middle of the street. It was one of the things I loved about the city. People definitely knew how to celebrate. A wolf whistle made me spin around, and I saw two men standing nearby. Their balcony was separated from mine by a thin metal gate. Before they could say anything else, I dashed inside and locked the balcony door.
How had I forgotten I was only wearing Gabe’s shirt and my thong?
I needed a shower, and I needed to put on some clothes before I ventured out of the suite again. I started to head for the stairs, then made my way back to the coffee table when I noticed two small pills resting on a note next to an unopened bottle of water.
Take the pills and drink the entire bottle. Call or text if you leave the hotel. – G
How like him to dictate to me through a pithy note written on hotel stationery. Irritation shot through me, then I realized that he was right again. I was in his suite, and I didn’t have a key. If I left, I couldn’t get back in. I popped the pills into my mouth, then opened the bottle of water and drank like a camel. I knew I would feel a whole lot worse if I hadn’t had water before I went to bed, but I still felt dehydrated.
After I was done with the bottle, I grabbed my small bag off the table beside the couch. I pulled out my phone to see that is wasn’t as late as I thought. It was only ten when I’d thought I had slept the entire day away.
Since I had several dozen texts, along with a few missed calls, I scrolled through and winced when I saw both of my brothers had texted and called. From their messages, they’d obviously seen my drunk selfies as I had intended. I’d wanted to irritate them, but their angry reactions seemed over the top, even for them. Why couldn’t they just mind their own business for once? When the messages stopped, I mentally calculated that the calls had stopped around the same time Gabe had found me in the bar.
I scanned the texts from several of my friends, including Grace, then stopped when I saw one from Claudia Moreau, the director of an art gallery who had recently agreed to show a few of my pieces. I eagerly pulled up the message, and my heart nearly stopped when I saw that she wanted to see me today. That could be good or bad, but the smiley face at the end of the message definitely said good to me.
I did a little happy dance, then told myself not to celebrate yet.
A loud knock on the door made me freeze in place. What if Gabe had a woman meeting him for the wedding? Was that the reason he’d wanted to know when I left the suite? She was probably some tall, leggy blonde, like most of the women he dated. If his new girlfriend was pissed at seeing me in his suite, he could deal with the explanations. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin in challenge as I stomped down the short hallway.
When I pulled the door open, I blinked in surprise. Standing in the hallway was a woman in a tidy uniform holding clothes on hangers covered in a clear, plastic bag. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun that was in contrast to the warm, friendly smile on her face.
“Hello! I was just dropping off your clothes. They have been freshly laundered and pressed.”
“Thanks,” I choked out as I took them from her. At least the woman hadn’t scolded me for making them clean our clothes after I’d thrown up on them. Then again, they were probably used to it around Mardi Gras.
“Please let me know if we can do anything else to make your stay enjoyable. Have a wonderful day!”
After thanking her again, I closed the door and frowned when I saw the white button-down shirt in the bag along with Gabe’s jeans and my halter top and skirt. Lifting the collar of the shirt I was wearing, I sniffed. All I smelled was a hint of his cologne. He could have gone through my own bag to get me something to wear instead of putting me in one of his clean shirts. But I had to admit that I liked wearing his clothes. It was almost as good as having his arms wrapped around me…almost.
Shaking my head, I carried the clothes over to the couch and picked up the pillow and blanket. With my arms full, I made my way up the narrow stairs to the loft area. I hung the clothes in the closet, then folded the blanket and placed the pillow back on the bed. Lifting my bag, I opened it and took out what I needed before heading into the bathroom.