Thunder Rolls (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy Book 2)

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Thunder Rolls (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy Book 2) Page 3

by Trevion Burns


  Not a minute of her class had gone by without her flashing back to him pounding her on her desk, rendering her unable to speak for several long seconds during her lecture. She was pretty sure most of her new students believed she was dyslexic.

  “Thanks, Professor James.”

  “Great class, Professor James.”

  Lila smiled and waved at the students who spoke to her on the way out. Perhaps she hadn’t done too badly after all. Hadn’t she told them to call her Lila? These students were way too polite.

  “Nice shirt, Professor James!”

  Lila’s eyes rolled to the top of her head. Apparently not all polite. She looked down at Jack’s shirt, which was so obviously not hers. She’d tried to put her blazer on to hide it, but the sleeves of Jack’s shirt were so large and bunchy that she’d been unable to get it all the way up her arms.

  As the class emptied out, she was thankful that she’d made plans to meet Chelsea for an engagement party that night and had put a cuter top in the backseat of her car that morning.

  As if waiting for her cue in Lila’s wild mind, Chelsea came waltzing into the empty classroom dressed for the party. The black, knee length cocktail dress fit her full body like a dream and made the smatterings of emerald green jewelry dotting her body jump out beautifully.

  “Hey skinny bitch,” she sang, descending the stairs until she was at Lila’s desk. “How’d your very first human sexuality course go?”

  “Well,” Lila started, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder and linking her arm with Chelsea’s. They began the long climb to the top of the auditorium. “I’m pretty sure half these students only registered for this course because they thought they could get an easy A, and get their rocks off at the same time. The original professor had a 100% approval rate from his students last semester.”

  “Ugh.” Chelsea was disgusted. “You know what that means.”

  “He was a pushover who never gave homework, and on the rare occasions he did, there’s no way he gave a shit about the content of the work. He just gave everyone an A so he could move on with his life.”

  “Sounds about right. No professor worth his salt has ever received a 100% approval rating from these heathens. What a joke.”

  Lila had to laugh. “These poor students did not sign up for Lila James. They just don’t know it, yet. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when they realize there’s going to be actual work involved here.”

  “Even if you do drown them in homework, they’re still going to get their rocks off. I mean, look at you, you little sex pot--whoop!”

  Lila jumped when Chelsea’s hand came flying into her ass, fighting a smile as she looked at her with wide eyes. One conversation with Chelsea and the casual observer would never guess she was a tenured professor at Harvard. Lila longed to be as successful as her friend while still maintaining such a carefree spirit. Even now, Lila always struggled with taking life a bit too seriously. She longed to let loose but had no idea how. For that reason, most of the friends Lila surrounded herself with were exactly like Chelsea. Loud, uninhibited, and fun. Everything she’d always longed to be.

  “That has got to be the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen,” Chelsea observed. “Is this what you’re wearing to the engagement party? Is this a men’s shirt?” Chelsea was all over the place as her eyes traveled Lila’s body. With her mouth open in shock, she took hold of the white button down that was falling off Lila’s shoulder. Her eyes rose to her friend accusingly. “This is not what you had on this morning.”

  Lila gave Chelsea a look.

  Chelsea’s shocked expression gave way to a devious smile. “Did you get some booty? You did. I can see it all over you. Whose? Was it that Greek God from the other day? Oh, please, please tell me it was the Greek God.”

  Lila didn’t answer.

  “That’s fine,” Chelsea said, holding the door to the class open. “You’ll have plenty of time to tell me all about it at this miserable party. Thank you, again, for being my lesbian date tonight. If I’d shown up to another one of these events alone, I think my family might die of sheer pity. This is my baby sister’s seventh engagement dinner, the seventh man willing to marry her, and I can’t even find one man to escort me.”

  Lila’s eyes widened. “Your sister has been engaged seven times?”

  “She’s a touch indecisive.”

  “Just a touch.”

  “At this point I’m convinced she only gets engaged to throw parties and be the center of attention. But she did make it all the way to the altar with the last victim.”

  Lila almost cried out. “She left him at the altar?”

  “That she did.”

  “Who’s the lucky guy this time?”

  “No clue. Haven’t met him. What’s the point? He’ll be gone soon enough.”

  Lila poked her lips out and scrunched her eyes. “Maybe this “victim” will be the one that sticks.”

  “Or maybe you’ll just have to be my lesbian date at my sister’s next engagement party, and the one after that, because there’s no way this guy’s going to stick. Now come on, girlfriend, we’ve got a party to get to. I’d be a lot happier if you were a Greek God but, hey…. can’t win ‘em all, right?”

  Lila smiled, allowing her friend to link their arms once more as they made their way out of the building.

  As they walked across the unusually quiet Harvard campus and towards the employee parking lot, Chelsea looked to Lila. Her eyes ran the length of her body.

  “I can feel you judging me,” Lila grumbled, staring off into the distance as she spoke.

  “You do remember the time that I didn’t tell you about my sister being on your ad hoc committee, right Lila?”

  As they made it to the parking lot and circled around their respective cars, Lila had to laugh. Whenever a lecturer was up for assistant professor, the ad hoc committee doing their review was kept top secret to avoid any unnecessary drama. In any other circumstance, Lila would have never known that Chelsea’s sister was on her committee. Chelsea, however, was Lila’s best friend. And she also had a big mouth.

  Lila unlocked her car door with another laugh. “Yes, I do remember you not telling me that, Chels.”

  “And you do know that she’s the bride to be at this affair, correct?”

  “Correct. I know that, too.”

  “Okay. So put on a longer skirt, you little slut-bag.”

  --

  Still arm in arm, Lila and Chelsea made their way into the meeting hall of the largest five-star hotel in Cambridge. They’d gotten lost more than a few times, but they were in no hurry as they laughed and joked their way through the busy halls.

  “So you let the Greek God take you out of class and fuck you senseless on the desk in your office? That’s not even your personal office. That is a community desk.”

  Lila was still laughing. “I don’t know, Chels. There’s something about that man that makes me do the craziest things. Things I would never dream of doing in my everyday life.”

  “Why have I never heard of him before this?”

  Because Lila had spent a year trying to forget him. She’d almost convinced herself that she had forgotten Jack Almeida. That afternoon in her office proved she clearly hadn’t.

  “He just… I just… I’m…” Lila held a hand out, struggling with what to say.

  “That good, huh? He put it down, so proper, words have completely escaped you. That’s beautiful, Lila. Good for you.” Chelsea gave Lila a high five. “Are you planning on seeing him again?”

  Her stomach rolled at the thought. “He’s not good for me. We’re not good for each other. Never have been. Besides, he lives in Manhattan. I’m sure it won’t happen again. In fact, it shouldn’t have happened at all. I just can’t say no to him.”

  “Who could? He’s breathtaking. What’s his name?”

  Lila blushed down at her feet and went to answer, but she was distracted when they turned a corner, and a large booth came into view.

&n
bsp; “Here we go,” Chelsea grumbled, as they approached the smiling young woman at the engagement party’s welcome booth.

  “Good evening, ladies. I assume you’re here for the engagement dinner.”

  “Unfortunately,” Chelsea confirmed.

  The young woman wavered at Chelsea’s tone. “Oh,” she perked, her brown eyes going large. “Well then, here are your invitations. It’s going to be the last door on your right-hand side.”

  Lila and Chelsea took their invitations, thanked the young lady, and began making their way down the hallway at a snails pace.

  Without paying much attention to the nearly unreadable calligraphy on the front of the invitation, they both opened their cards together.

  They screamed out when an explosion of paper confetti, glitter, and a banner that said Truly, Madly, Deeply in Love popped up out of the card, smacking them in the face. They both stopped in mid-step as a cartoonish, instrumental version of Savage Garden’s song of the same moniker jumped from each card at different intervals. The empty hallway filled with an uneven musical hum.

  Attempting to spit out confetti stuck to her lip-gloss, Lila stared at the open card in shock, wondering if that had just happened. She looked to Chelsea with a knowing grin.

  Chelsea, who was also attempting to blow away the glitter and confetti stuck to her lips, turned to Lila with a cringe. “I mean just fucking shoot me already. They can’t be serious with this shit, right?”

  Lila slammed her card closed, effectively ending the music from her end, and wrapped an arm around her friend’s waist, leading her back down the hallway.

  Chelsea’s card was still open and playing the tune as Lila squeezed her waist.

  “Now, now, sunshine. Try to remember that this is your baby sister’s engagement party. This is a beautiful occasion. Two people sharing their love. We’re here to show them our support.”

  “This is fucking bullshit is what it is.”

  Lila squeezed her waist tighter, fighting laughter, unable to deny she was right. “Where’s the bar in this place?”

  “Now that--” Chelsea pointed the explosive musical card at Lila before tossing it over her shoulder. “Is an excellent question.”

  Like the pros they were, Lila and Chelsea found the open bar in record time, situated in the hallway outside the actual party. They were the only degenerates there. They each ordered a double vodka cranberry before making their way into the busy reception hall. It was already wall-to-wall with people.

  The bustling room was decorated predictably with white tables and chairs, dotted with baby pink accent pieces. A table full of finger foods, desserts, and a towering pink cake sat in the middle of the room, relatively untouched. A stage sat at the far end, with a lone microphone in the middle of it. Most of the dozen or so tables were already full. Lila checked her watch to make sure they weren’t late, before looking to Chelsea.

  “Are you sure this is just the engagement party? There have to be at least a hundred people here.” Lila noted, from where they were still lingering in the doorway. “This looks like an actual wedding.”

  “Kelly never does anything halfway, Lila.” Chelsea finished off her vodka cranberry. “You’ll learn that about her very quickly.”

  Lila laughed, following Chelsea as she led the way to their table.

  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite cousin, Chel-Bell! Whoa, who’s your friend?” Chelsea’s middle-aged, buck-toothed cousin approached her with open arms and gave her a sloppy, borderline inappropriate, kiss on the corner of her mouth. Chelsea understandably veered away, motioning her empty drink towards Lila.

  “This is Lila James. My coworker, and lesbian lover.”

  Lila’s eyes widened in Chelsea’s.

  “No shit, cuz. So you’re a box muncher now?”

  Chelsea snatched Lila away. “And that’s just the first family member,” she mumbled as she and Lila finally made it to their seats at Table 1.

  The bride and groom’s seats were the only one’s still unoccupied at the ten-seat table. Chelsea quickly introduced Lila to her immediate family members, including her mother and father, as they settled into their seats.

  Once again, she introduced Lila as her lesbian lover.

  “She’s kidding.” Lila smiled, with a bashful wave. “I’m sure you guys know Chelsea’s sense of humor.”

  Chelsea’s mother wasn’t laughing. “We know,” she confirmed, dryly.

  “Mommy and Daddy never really ‘got me.’ ” Chelsea made finger quotes to Lila before flagging down a passing server and pointing to her empty glass. “Double vodka cranberry, please, on the fly. And keep them coming. These are my relatives,” she explained, motioning to her family.

  The server winked at her. “Say no more. Double vodka cranberry, coming right up.”

  Lila watched Chelsea, unsure of what angle to take with her family. The vibe at the table was cold. No one was going out of his or her way to make eye contact with anyone else. They opted, instead, to appear preoccupied with whatever was going on in the room around them. To be fair, there were a lot of interesting characters milling around.

  Lila spoke up. “I actually work with Chelsea at Harvard.”

  That caught Chelsea’s mother’s attention. She was an elderly woman whose hair was still platinum blonde. Her skin was tight, rubbery, and when her blue eyes met Lila’s, they appeared disinterested.

  “We met about a year ago,” Lila said with a nod. When no one seemed in a big hurry to reply, she went to awkwardly fill the silence. “It’s actually a funny story--”

  Her eyes flew to the stage when the sound of someone tapping the microphone boomed across the room. The microphone screamed out at the abuse, prompting many of the guests to cover their ears at the unbearable noise.

  All conversation came to a halt.

  “Sorry about that.” A woman who looked exactly like Chelsea spoke bashfully into the microphone. Her blonde hair stretched halfway down her back in perfect spirals, tumbling into her blue eyes as she leaned away from the backfiring microphone. If her tight white mini dress and baby veil were any indication, this was the lovely bride to be.

  “My darling sister,” Chelsea confirmed to Lila.

  “She is absolutely stunning.”

  “She is,” Chelsea agreed. “Too bad she knows it.”

  “Where’s the groom?” Lila asked the question just in time to see the man of the hour step on the stage. He was in the midst of unbuttoning the jacket of his flawless suit, tossing it open and shoving his hand in his pocket. He jingled the keys in his pocket anxiously, and the microphone caught the muffled sound.

  Lila knew that move. She’d known it even before he turned towards the reception hall with a forced smile on his face.

  The air flew from her lungs. All logical thought disappeared from her busy mind. She almost shattered the cocktail glass between her fingers.

  Chelsea was squinting up at the stage in question. She wavered.

  “Wait a second…” Turning to Lila, Chelsea cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the guy?… The Greek God?”

  “That is the Greek God,” Lila seethed. “Otherwise known as the Greek Asshole, Jack Almeida.” She threw down her napkin and, without another word, stood from the table. Her action caused her chair to creak loudly across the shiny marble floors.

  So loudly that it succeeded in swiping the attention of every individual in the room off the bride, and onto her.

  Including Jack Almeida’s.

  Their eyes met across the room, and Lila saw it. The moment that fake smile was wiped clear off his face. She saw the Jack Almeida that she’d known all those years ago for the first time, clear as day, right there in front of her, at his engagement party. Not at the Crimson event, not on the desk in her office, but right there. There he was.

  It made her heart start a war inside her chest, desperate for escape. Without a word, she turned and made her way quickly toward the door, ripping her eyes away from the stage just in time to see Jack boun
ding down after her.

  3

  He’d better not be behind her.

  That was all Lila knew as she sped out of the reception room and down the long hallway. She wasn’t sure where she was going, or whether this was the direction she and Chelsea had taken when they’d walked in. They’d been so busy joking and laughing, Lila hadn’t thought about paying attention to what path they were taking.

  Simpler times. Lila longed to go back to fifteen minutes ago when her biggest worry in the world was how to get the confetti and glitter off her red lipstick.

  This building was more complicated than she remembered. As she made millions of desperate lefts, rights, twists, and turns, she knew that she’d gotten lost.

  She also knew that he’d better not be behind her.

  She was afraid she might murder him.

  As she turned down another deserted hallway, she found herself at a dead end. With a curse from deep in her throat, she turned on her heels, ready to move the other way.

  The sight of him stopped her cold. He was behind her, standing dead center in the middle of the hallway, closing in on her with long, slow strides. His chest heaved under his suit as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

  “Get the fuck away from me,” she growled.

  He held out his hands and braced himself. He was ready to catch her if she ran.

  Lila thought about trying it.

  His hands shook. “Lila…” His voice shook, too.

  Lila clawed at her bedazzled clutch, gritting her teeth against the tears that threatened to sting her eyes. She’d be damned if she started crying.

  “Get the fuck away from me.”

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “Oh yeah? And when was that, Jack? Before or after you fucked me? Because you haven’t had one real thing to say to me since the moment we saw each other at that Crimson event. Or the moment you took me out of my classroom and screwed me in my office. So, please, tell me… when the fuck were you planning on bringing up the fact that you’re about to be married?”

 

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