A Little Like Destiny

by Lisa Suzanne

  I shake the image out of my head and decide to take this head on. “So you didn’t think telling me your brother is among the most famous rock stars in the world was important?” I ask Brian. I go for a light tone, but it comes out more accusatory than I mean it to.

  Brian laughs. “I tend not to lead with that information.”

  “Why?”

  “Because ten times out of ten, I’m passed over for my brother.”

  My heart squeezes for Brian and the bitter hurt in his voice. This is all so confusing.

  “I like to get to know a woman before I drag my brother into it,” he continues.

  “But his last name’s Ashton.”

  “That’s his middle name, my mom’s maiden name.”

  “What’s your middle name?” I ask dumbly. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change things. It’s filler conversation because I’m fucking lost. I have no idea what I’m doing.

  It dawns on me just then that the tattoo of the F enclosed in a circle stands for Fox. His last name.

  “Joseph.”

  “What’s it like being the brother of a rock star?”

  “It has its perks, but it also has its downsides.”

  “What are the perks?”

  He glances around. “All this,” he says, gesturing widely with his arms. It’s only then I realize that surely the whole money is not an object line stems back to this. “Access to all this without the paparazzi following me around everywhere I go because I’m nobody.”

  “And the downsides?”

  His eyes burn into mine. “Like I told you before. He always seems to want what’s mine, and he always gets what he wants.”

  I want to reassure him, want to tell him he doesn’t have to worry about that with me. But right this very second, I’m not sure that’s a promise I can keep.

  eighteen

  I’m having a hard time acting like everything’s normal at this party—mostly because it’s not.

  Mark is avoiding me, or at least it feels like it. We caught each other’s gaze across the room that one time, but that’s it. Every time I’ve looked over at him since, he’s been talking to someone else. To my heart’s relief, mostly he’s been talking to men I recognize as members of Vail. He hangs out with Ethan, the drummer, the most. I think back to the reality show they were on together. They did seem like best friends, and I loved watching that show and getting a peek into their real relationship. Though after my conversation with Mark in the car on the way back to his place, I wonder how much of it was a look at their real personalities. I guess it’s possible the producers tweaked their scenes to make them appear a certain way.

  I think back to his confession about his overdose. It was Ethan who had given him something that night, and I feel my claws come out a little as my hackles rise. I don’t know if I trust Ethan after finding that out. I don’t believe for a second that he had sinister intentions, but he might not be the best influence on Mark.

  I have the urge to go over and talk to him, if nothing else to get him away from Ethan for a few minutes. I don’t know why that urge completely overtakes me in the moment. Mark’s a big boy who can handle himself around his best friend.

  The vodka is helping, I think. I’m riding the line between tipsy and drunk, but luckily so far the alcohol hasn’t acted as truth serum. Yet.

  We’ve only been here for a half hour, though. The night is young, and who knows what sort of drama lies ahead of me?

  I’ve basically been following Brian around like a lost puppy dog because what the fuck else am I supposed to do? “You want me to show you around?” Brian asks after he’s introduced me to people whose names I’ll never remember.

  “Sure,” I say, as if I’ve never been here before—though, to be fair, I didn’t exactly get the grand tour the last time.

  Am I lying? I’m split on whether omission of facts is still a lie. I’m not physically lying. I haven’t done anything wrong.

  So why do I feel guilty?

  Brian leads me through the kitchen toward the hallway in the opposite direction of Mark’s bedroom. There are several doors down this hallway, and he leads me into the one in the far corner. He points to doors as we go. “This is where Becker’s staying,” he says, pointing. He points next to the door that has a line forming outside of it. “This is a bathroom. Here’s Jason’s room. This is Mark’s office. And this is my room.”

  He opens the door and lets me into a meticulously neat bedroom. I glance around, trying to gain insight into the man I’ve been sleeping with for the last month before I realize that he probably had nothing to do with this room’s décor.

  It matches the rest of the penthouse, black and white and gray all over. The only personal effect in the room is a book on the nightstand, Richard III by William Shakespeare. From what I know, that play features a pretty intense sibling rivalry.

  Come to think of it, so does East of Eden—the other book Brian mentioned as a favorite.

  Aside from the book, the surfaces are void of knickknacks, clothes are put away, the bed is made. I see two doors, one a closet and the other a bathroom. I walk over to the window. The view out the window is of the mountains and some other hotels, not the lights of the Strip. The hustle and bustle of movement on the highway catches my eye, but there’s no romantic glow of lights like on the opposite side of this condo.

  Brian moves in behind me, his hands on my hips as he traps me between his front side and the glass. “Nice view, isn’t it?” he whispers.

  It’s nicer on the other side, I want to answer, but I hold myself back. I haven’t had a lot of time to process this new twist in our relationship, but two emotions that I can clearly define right now are hurt and anger. Barring the fact that I slept with Mark, it feels like a huge betrayal that Brian didn’t tell me who his brother is. I feel like a hypocrite even thinking that since I’m holding onto a secret of my own, but in the moment, I think it’s okay to be a little bit of a hypocrite.

  “Yeah,” I finally say. “It’s nice.”

  “Are you angry?” he asks.

  I nod. “A little.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I told you, it’s because of him. Not because of you.”

  “I get that. It just feels like there’s all these secrets between us.”

  “That’s it, I swear.” A quiet beat passes between us, and then he says, “Actually, no, that’s a lie. There’s one more secret I’ve sort of been holding onto.”

  My heart thumps in my chest and my palms feel suddenly clammy.

  This is it, isn’t it? He already knows.

  “I love you, Reese. It’s too soon to say it, but I know what I feel.”

  My surprised eyes meet his in the reflection of the glass. I’m shocked by his confession, frankly. I’ve been having a lot of fun with Brian, but I’ve also had another man in my heart this whole time. And seeing him in the flesh tonight only confirmed what I already knew deep down. I’m not over Mark Ashton. I’m not over our one night together, and I’m pretty sure I might be in love with him after just one night.

  But I also think I’m developing feelings of love for Brian, a love that’s grown over the time we’ve been together, and I have no idea what to say to him, how to reply to his confession. I told him I’m falling for him, but that’s very different from saying those three little words.

  So I don’t say anything. Instead, I twist around in his arms, hard to do with the window right there, and I press my lips to his. He opens his mouth to mine, urgent and hot, and then he suddenly grabs me up in his arms, carries me over to the bed, and tosses me down roughly. He reaches under my dress, yanks my panties to the side, and jabs two fingers into me. I arch back on the bed, my thoughts jumbled as he fingers me roughly. He pulls his hand away from me when he’s satisfied I’m wet enough for him then unbuttons his pants and lowers them just enough to pull himself out. He pulls my panties to the side before shoving into me.

  This is different. This is primal, needy, carnal. This is pas
sionate. This is him needing me to respond to his words, and this is him using my body since I didn’t use my mouth to answer him. It’s hot and full of lust and desire, fucking fully clothed on Brian’s bed as a party rages just on the other side of the door—as the man who stole my heart in this very penthouse not so long ago stands somewhere nearby, knowing I’m here, knowing I’m in Brian’s bedroom with him, maybe even wondering what we’re in here doing.

  It’s that thought that drives me to a shattering orgasm. Brian yells out as I start to come, some unintelligible sounds strung together with curses and phrases like so fucking tight, so fucking wet. He pulls out of me once my body relaxes and jerks off onto me, making a mess of my panties and literally claiming me by leaving his mark on me.

  Brian presses a kiss to my mouth, a tender and soft contradiction after what he just did to me. Then he walks to his bathroom to clean up, and I lay quivering for a minute, trying to regain some semblance of control over my body, over my mind. He comes back with a washcloth and helps me clean up.

  I didn’t want that to happen. Not here, not with another man on my mind, not with that other man right on the other side of the door.

  Brian needed reassurance, though. He needed to know that I’m committed to making this work with him. He needed to feel safe with me, like I’m not going to leave him for his brother. I wonder if Mark took women away from Brian without a second thought and then just discarded them.

  I may be attracted to him, and my body might crave him, and my heart might need him, but once Mark Ashton gets what he wants from a woman, he moves onto the next one. I refuse to give up the solid start I have with Brian in favor of someone who will only do that to me in the end.

  Brian never has to know what happened between Mark and me. It’s in the past, anyway. I can do this. I can deal with this.

  I can have sex with my boyfriend without thinking of another man.

  Eventually.

  Tonight’s just not that night.

  *

  I feel naked as we exit Brian’s bedroom. I’m not naked, exactly, but I did have to leave my panties in his room because of what he did to them.

  My dress is form-fitting, so it’s not like a gentle breeze will make my skirt blow up, but I still feel the cool air against my still damp, naked skin.

  We walk back into the family room. There are people everywhere—some are sitting on couches, some on laps on top of couches. Some are perched on countertops. Others are dancing behind the couch or between the couch and the television. I spot Mark right away. He’s standing by the windows, backlit by the glow of the Strip—the same view from his room. The glass runs floor to ceiling, providing an expansive and beautiful view of Las Vegas. He’s talking to Ethan again, but at least he’s not talking to another woman. I wonder why he isn’t at the same time I’m absolutely grateful because my bleeding heart couldn’t stand that sort of pain.

  I glance around for Jill and spot her and Becker standing near Jason and Tess. Frankly, I’m surprised to see Tess here. I thought she’d written Jason off, but I haven’t talked to her in a while. She tends to go through men like wine—a different bottle every night, so to see her here next to Jason seems out of the ordinary.

  I make my way across the spacious condo toward my friends with Brian right on my tail.

  “You okay?” Jill mouths to me.

  I shake my head because I’m not.

  “I need to talk to Reese,” she says to Becker. She turns to walk toward me, and Becker follows behind her. She turns and glares at him. “Alone.”

  He stops in his tracks, and Brian stays back with him. Tess sees the two of us take off, and she ditches Jason to come with us. We head toward the hallway I just came from and get in a short line outside the bathroom.

  “What the fuck?” Jill says to me.

  I just shrug.

  “I’m kind of pissed Becker didn’t tell me.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “I would’ve thought your journalistic Spidey skills would’ve given them away,” I say.

  “We’ve been together a month and he didn’t bother to tell me? I’ve told him a hundred times that Vail is my favorite band.”

  “Did you tell…” I trail off as I glance over at Tess. Besides the fact that I don’t want anyone at this party to know I slept with Mark, I never told Tess. “Never mind. Let’s just talk once we’re in there.” I nod toward the bathroom door.

  “I didn’t tell him about you and Mark,” Jill says. “I didn’t even mention we met him.”

  Tess’s eyes widen. “You met him?” she asks.

  My heart drops, but I don’t say anything. The girl in front of Jill turns around to listen to our conversation. She looks familiar, and I distinctly remember her being here that night Mark brought me here. Delilah, I think.

  She looks pretty drunk, not to mention like she’s had a bit of a rough night, and her glassy, mascara-smudged eyes don’t appear to recognize me. “I gotta pee so damn bad and these lines are always so long!” she says. “Hurry up!” She starts pounding on the wall.

  I grab Jill’s hand and get out of line. “Come with me.”

  I lead her to Brian’s room, Tess following closely behind us. I need to talk to Jill without Tess here, but I’m out of options.

  “You can’t go in there!” a voice yells behind us, but I turn the knob and go in anyway.

  When the door closes behind us, we’re blanketed in quiet. Jill glances around and notices a crease in the bedspread, the only thing out of place in an otherwise meticulous room. She wrinkles her nose. “Were you and Brian…in here just now?”

  “He told me he loves me.” I focus my gaze out the window.

  “Oh my God,” Jill says. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything. I just kissed him, and he mistook my kiss to mean I wanted sex, and he threw me on the bed.”

  “Jesus.” Jill holds her face in her hands for a second. “This is all so messed up.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m lying to Becker about you and Mark, you’re lying to Brian, they both lied to us.” Jill throws her hands up in the air. “Where does the truth even begin?”

  “Wait, wait, wait. You and Mark?” Tess says, holding up her hands.

  I ignore Tess. “I haven’t had time to sort through the layers just yet.” I blow out another breath.

  “Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Tess booms.

  I finally look over at her. “I’m sorry. After the Vail concert a few weeks ago, Jill got us backstage. Somehow I ended the night by hooking up with him.”

  Tess’s jaw drops. “You what?”

  “I slept with him. No one knows. I can’t tell Brian.” I walk over to the nightstand and pick up the book there. I hold it up. “They have this, like, huge sibling rivalry between them. It’ll kill him.”

  I set the book back down as Tess folds her arms over her chest and glares at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t tell anybody. Jill knew because she was there when I left with Mark.”

  Jill shoots me a look. I don’t have the energy to make her feel like I would’ve told her if she hadn’t been there. I don’t know if I would have. There are still things about that night she doesn’t know, things I haven’t shared and don’t plan to.

  “Did you see the way he looked at you when their sister introduced you?” Jill asks. “He remembers you, Reese.”

  “Shut up. No he doesn’t.”

  “You wanna bet?” Jill asks.

  “He hasn’t even looked my way since we got here.”

  “Because Brian claimed you as his.”

  I roll my eyes. “No he didn’t.”

  “He threw his arm around you and tucked you right into his side. He hasn’t let you out of his sight all night. You don’t think he’s being a little possessive?”

  “A little, I guess,” I say, thinking back to the way he just claimed me in here, the way he ruined my pant
ies as he pulled out of me. I sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Tess rolls her eyes. “You go for Mark Ashton. Duh. No brainer.”

  My brows furrow down. “That’s not what I mean. Mark isn’t even an option.”

  “Then what are you talking about?” Jill asks.

  “I’m talking about Brian. He told me earlier today how Mark always gets what he wants and he always wants what Brian has. I don’t know whether to tell him I slept with Mark first or not.”

  “Not,” Tess says.

  I twist a lock of hair through my fingers. “Why not?”

  They’re both quiet for a minute, and then Jill says, “Because if you want to be with Brian, it’ll only ruin what you two have started.”

  “Won’t it ruin it if the truth comes out later?”

  “Why does the truth have to come out later? Why can’t it just be one night in the past that we all keep a secret?” Jill looks at Tess meaningfully, and she nods as if she promises she’ll keep the secret, too.

  I wander over to Brian’s dresser. The top is clear, devoid of any sort of meaningful picture or mementos. It could be because of this party—he might’ve put everything away in case a guest should wander in here much the same way Jill, Tess, and I did. Or there could be layers I haven’t even begun to discover about him yet. What if he’s devoid of emotion—devoid of human connection?

  I can’t believe that to be true after the way he kissed me and made love to me right after he told me he loves me.

  “Yeah,” I murmur, running my finger along the dresser’s smooth, wooden surface. “I guess.”

  “I’m not even sure I trust Becker anymore. How could he keep this huge secret from me?”

  I turn around and face her. “After what happened with Adam, I don’t blame you.”

  “It starts with one,” she says, holding up one finger. “One lie. One omission.”

  “But you’re telling me it’s okay for me to omit information?”

  She smiles wryly. “I guess it’s a double standard, huh?”

  “I sort of get it. The omission on their part. I get leaving out the fact that they’re living with Mark Ashton. I get Brian not mentioning it.”