by TC Matson
My face screws up. “You did what?” I reproach with a snap.
He chuckles again. “I want you all to have fun tonight without any worries.”
“Nathan.”
“Don’t scold me tonight. Save it for Tuesday. I’m actually looking forward to your angry face.”
His excited anticipation for me to be upset buckles my irritation and I laugh. “You know you didn’t have to do that, right?”
“I know,” he replies simply.
“Isn’t Sultra’s name-based only?”
“Perks of having a boyfriend who knows people.”
“You’re right. I’m kicking your ass Tuesday.”
“Looking forward to it. Go have a great night.”
See? Loving him is easy…swoon worthy. And times like this I want to tell him how I feel for him, but I know it’s too soon. Instead, I say, “Okay. Thank you.”
After getting off the phone, I head to the living room where Aimee and Shyla are sitting on the couch. Shyla’s and my outfits scream we’re in a serious relationship. She’s in a gray blouse, jeans, and knee-high boots where I’m dressed in a cute hunter green dress with elastic straps that fall off the shoulder and taupe heels. Aimee, on the other hand, has an outfit that shouts, “Fuck my ex. All eyes on me.” Her short red skirt is tight on her waist and flares out on her hips with a black skin tight top that dips low and shows off her cleavage. She’ll get all the looks she wants tonight because she’s smoking hot. Gorgeous and newly single with something to prove.
* * *
Dinner was fabulous. Luxury eating. The limo is incredible. Luxury riding. And now, Sultra’s. Luxury clubbing. My boyfriend is fucking amazing.
Over the past hour we’ve danced so much that I’m out of breath and definitely out of shape. I’ve excused myself from the dance floor and let the girls hold it down while I hold down the table and a drink. Aimee’s been approached multiple times, but she’s told them all to take a hike. Controlling the inner whore has been no issue thus far.
“Brooklyn? No way. Is that you?” a voice calls from my side.
He still squints when he’s grinning from ear to ear although his face has matured. “Vincent?” I can’t contain my squeal. “Oh my god!”
He wraps me up in a hug and then pulls back keeping his hands on my arms. “Holy shit. Look at you. It’s been, what? Seven years.”
“Yeah. How have you been?”
He pulls a stool up and sits beside me. “I’ve been good. Life’s been alright. Got a good job, nice place, in good health. I can’t complain.”
“I heard you moved to Florida right after graduation,” I recall.
“I did,” he nods. “Went to school for two years and came back. You know Dallas couldn’t get rid of me. How have you been?” His eyes drift over my body, down my legs, and back to my face. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Vincent Hoyer. He and I became friends at the end of eighth grade and our friendship continued into our high school years. We dated briefly when I was sixteen, but it felt like I was dating a brother. It was awkward as hell, so after a week, we decided friends were all we could be.
“I’ve been good,” I continue. “Do you remember Aimee and Shyla?”
He drops his head back and bellows a laugh. “Don’t tell me you still hang out with those two crazy slazies.”
I crack up at his old nickname for them. Again, they had slutty ways back in the day and Vincent made up a word for slutty ladies. It stuck. I point to the dance floor.
He follows where I’m pointing. “Times haven’t changed.” He twists back to me. “So are you married? Kids?”
Thinking about Nathan makes me smile. “Not married and no kids, but I do have an incredible boyfriend.”
His grin slips slightly when his eyes widen. “Is he here?”
“No. It’s a girls’ night.” I shift, crossing my legs. “What about you? Has Vincent the player settled down yet?”
Tightening his lips, he shakes his head. “Single bird here. For about six months now. Caught my girlfriend of a year screwing a coworker.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugs.
“Didn’t you catch Cassie sleeping with your stepbrother?”
“Yep. I did. I’ve got some shitty luck when it comes to women being faithful. I guess it’s karma coming back to seek revenge on all the wrongs I did to my high school girlfriends.”
“Have you and your step-brother buried the hatchet at least?”
“I haven’t spoken to that asshole in years. Best fucking years of my life.” He inhales. “His mom is still in the picture making dad happy and she’s been good to me. So I can’t complain about that. They don’t force holiday dinners either. They know we despise each other.”
“I don’t think you two have ever liked each other.”
He shakes his head just as Aimee shrieks. “Vincent Hoyer? No damn way!” She tackle hugs him, slinging her arms around his neck. “I thought you moved.”
He flashes his charming megawatt smile. “You missed me.”
She backhands him on his chest, batting her eyes. “In your dreams, Vinny boy.”
Vincent has always hated that nickname. No one could call him that without being corrected, except for us. It’s been like that for years.
Shyla comes around the table and gives him a hug too. “You’re looking good, Shy,” he says. “Matter of fact, all of you are hot.”
Shyla titters. “We’ve always been hot.”
Vincent snaps his fingers ending them with a point and then turns to me. “I rode by that house you were fixing up. On the outside, it looked great. You still live there?”
“Yep,” I beam proudly.
“Damn. I should’ve stopped in.”
Shyla rolls her eyes. “You’ll have to knock hard because our girl sits out back and reads all the time still.”
“You still read that junk?”
“It’s not junk,” I defend myself. “It’s romantic and good and it gives me all the feels.”
“The feels?” Vincent cracks up. “If you weren’t studying boring books, you were reading them.”
“Hey!” I squeak with a laugh.
After thirty more minutes of catching up and walking down memory lane, we decide to call it a night and leave. We say our goodbyes to Vincent and slip inside the awaiting limo like we’re celebrities.
TWENTY-SIX
I texted Nathan to let him know I was home the moment I set foot into the house. Being that it’s almost two in the morning, I knew I wouldn’t hear from him.
I’m curled up under the covers, my face freshly washed from makeup, and I’m about to turn off the bedside lamp when there’s a knock at my door. Excitement pulls a smile from me. Nathan is surprising me. I jerk out of the bed, sprint down the hallway and rip open the door about to throw myself onto him when the sight of Vincent startles the piss out of me.
“Vincent!” I squeak, feeling disappointed it’s him and not the man I wanted to see. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I wasn’t done catching up.”
“It’s two in the morning. I was in bed,” I tell him.
“Already? You move fast.” His lips quirk up. “Come on. Let a friend in. Old times sake.”
I push open the door. “Some things never change,” I say as he passes by. My mom used to get so pissed because he’d show up at random times and then make himself at home. She loved him like a son who was old enough to support his damn self. And when I bought this house, he popped in randomly for about a month before he disappeared.
He looks around the living room. “Holy shit, Doodle. This place looks amazing. No more god-awful yellow walls.”
I giggle. “Yeah, I got rid of Big Bird,” I say handing him a bottle of water.
He spins to look at the couch and points. “And you’ve upgraded the furniture.” Sitting, he takes a swig and leans back. “No more
futon. Look at you winning at life.”
I take a seat in my recliner and tuck my feet under me. “It was hard to get rid of that monstrosity but it was time to grow up.”
“Ever think where we’d be if we didn’t split up? Or what if we had tried again after school was over?”
Shaking my head, my face screws up. “Nope. Don’t go there. We were better off as friends and you know it. That week felt weird.”
“Yeah…” he exhales, sliding to the end of the cushion and dropping his head into his hands. “I’m sorry. Natalie’s on my mind hard tonight. I fucking loved her. We had plans for a future, and she went out and was banging Cliff.” His hands fall away from his face and he shakes his head. “My place reminds me of her even though she’s moved and I threw everything else out.”
Sounds close to Aimee’s story. “I’m sorry.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Shit happens, right?”
He takes another swig from his water and then a slow smile creeps across his lips. “How’s your mom?”
Thinking of my mother instantly brings me joy. “She’s good. She took up some cooking classes and began cooking for the homeless at a shelter a few hours away.”
“Always a saint. She loved me. It’s the reason why she always let me crash on the couch.”
I laugh. “You totally had her fooled.”
“I’m pretty wasted. You care if I crash here for old times’ sake?” he asks causing my brows to furrow.
“Do what?”
“Just for the night. I won’t make it a habit. I promise. I’m not ready to go home,” he rushes out calmly. “Please.”
“I…”
“You think your boyfriend will mind? If so, then I’ll hit up a hotel.”
That’s the million-dollar question. I know if the tables were turned, I don’t know how I would feel. I’d like to think I’m secure enough to understand the situation and trust him. I’ve never given Nathan a reason to doubt me, but I’ve never had a guy spend the night either. I just hope he understands.
“You can stay here, but only tonight,” I say sternly. “Don’t think about bringing back old habits. I don’t want to upset him. It’s new and I really like him.”
“Doodle swoons over a boy,” he teases. “Don’t worry. This is my last time. I’m a grown ass man too drunk for my own good.”
“Okay.” I slap the armrest and stand up. “I’m going to bed. Sleep well.”
“Hey, Doodle,” he calls out. “Thank you for never changing who you are. I really appreciate you letting me crash here.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
My flight isn’t until noon, and I’m desperate for a kiss before I go since I didn’t get to see her yesterday and I won’t for a few more days. Last night, I debated on surprising her before I left, but since I woke up to two texts—one telling me she was home and the other stating she ran into a friend last night and he…HE…needed a place to crash and that he was on the couch—that settled it.
I love that she’s so honest. Am I happy that she offered someone her couch? No. There are a lot of crazy people in the world with ulterior motives. I’m not the jealous type and I know if she was doing anything wrong, she wouldn’t have told me. But I’m a man and I need what’s mine to be known.
There’s a shuffling noise on the other side of the door after I knock. Her hair sits on top of her head in a messy bun. Her eyes are tired but excited to see me and she’s in my shirt.
“You’re breathtaking,” I say with a smirk.
“Hi,” she exhales.
I grip her by the waist and pull her in for a kiss. Instantly, she melts against me as she snakes her hands up my chest and wraps them around my neck. I plunge my tongue into her mouth, tasting the coffee she’s drinking, and feel her breath hitch. The kiss is slow but hard. Passionate and ardent.
When I pull back, a small smile rests on her swollen lips and slowly her eyes flutter open.
“I needed to see you before I left,” I tell her.
“I’m really glad you did.”
I’m lost in her gaze, falling harder and faster each and every time I’m around her. My lips graze hers.
“Hey, Doodle,” a male voice calls out coming from the hall. “I tossed my towel over the curtain. Didn’t know wh—” His words stop just as the sound of his footsteps enter the living room. “My bad.”
The voice…I rip my gaze from her and flick them to him, instantly being filled with rage. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Vincent, my treacherous stepbrother, shifts on his feet and cross his arms over his chest. A sinister smirk pulls his lips up. “You’re her boyfriend?”
“This is Vincent,” Brooklyn introduces me as if I have no damn clue who he is.
“I know who the fuck it is,” I snap at her, taking a step away.
Her eyes lace with concern and she’s about to say something when the asshole smirks.
“Oh, how payback can be a surprising little bitch, huh?” he deadpans haughtily.
Everything I thought about Brooklyn has been wrong. I’ve been falling in love with a woman who has a manipulative plan. Chasing after fake happiness. Distortion comes into focus. Everything underneath her smile has been fraudulent. Darkness overshadows the light that shined inside of me for her, shattering me.
I glower at her. “Was this the plan all along? To hurt me?”
Brooklyn recoils, her face twisting with confusion. “What?”
“This is way more than a fucking coincidence, Brooklyn. Is he paying you?”
Malevolently, Vincent laughs, solidifying exactly what I thought. Disgust winds through my exhale. I glare at her, shaking my head and then turn around and leave.
She had me fooled.
Vincent Hoyer is the brother I never asked for, nor wanted. The moment he and his father stormed into our lives they created chaos. We’ve never gotten along. Ever. His attitude is full of resentment, and mine is built from it. Then one day I started dating a girl and come to find out she was his girlfriend. I had no damn clue and only found out when he walked in on us fucking. That day he vowed to ruin my life and he’s made it his mission. He’s tried to fuck every girlfriend, accomplishing that task multiple times.
Then as we got older, he hated the fact I started my own business and since I wouldn’t give him the time of day, he’s tried finding ways to destroy me. Although Bennett Towers is solid, it didn’t stop him from trying to slander me or paying someone to get inside information in hopes there was something there that’s truly not. You can’t take down someone who does the right thing and has a reputation for it.
Brooklyn’s name lights my phone up multiple times. I muted it for the night. I never thought she’d stoop to a level so cruel with the heart I thought she had. She’s played the hell out of me, and this time my heart’s taken the beating.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Turns out, Nathan is the shitty stepbrother I’ve heard so much about. All through school, Vincent used to tell me just how horrible his stepbrother was…he caught him in bed with his girlfriend, for fuck’s sake, but he never said his name. Ever. He loathed him so much, he dubbed him “the asshat.” But I knew Vincent well along with the way he could instigate things. Apparently, not much has changed.
When Nathan left, I lost my shit on Vincent and kicked him out. I felt like a pawn in his vindictive game. I knew…I knew…something was up when he came to the house and wanted to stay, but I figured he was running from something, not elbowing his way in with an ulterior motive.
I’ve tried calling and texting Nathan for three days. They’ve all gone unanswered. My emotions have been all over the place. I went from upset to desperate and now that desperation has shifted into a fury with embers that glow with rage. I know he was due back Tuesday and with some detective work—aka Cody—I found out he didn’t go home Tuesday and is in the office today, but he’ll be busy.
Fuck his day.
Stepping out of the elevator onto his office floor, it’s not hard to figure ou
t where his office is located. There’s one large black door across from the receptionist’s desk. I’ve watched enough TV to know…that’s got to be his office. The lobby is floored with white marble and black couches. Fancy…good for him.
The older lady sitting behind a cream colored marble counter smiles at me with a quizzical expression. We lock eyes. My heart thunders in my chest, but I’m on a mission and Nathan will be seeing me now.
When I glance to his office door, her smile fades.
“Miss. You can’t go in there,” she says, but she can’t stop my stride from where she’s at.
Her chair rolls as I cross in front of her desk, making a mad dash to his door. As I turn the knob and shove in, she’s shouting something, but I don’t hear her.
He’s at his desk, leaned forward on his forearms. His eyes flick up to me.
“How dare you?” I snarl. “You do not get to give me the cold shoulder and ignore me.”
The secretary is now at the door and says something, but I can’t hear what she’s saying over the pulse in my ears. I’m hyper-focused on Nathan. He leans back in his chair, steepling his two pointer fingers and rests them against his lips. His eyes narrow, fire glowing in them. If I wasn’t pissed, that look would terrify the hell out of me.
Screw him and his scary staring thing.
“A silent treatment is manipulative and downright disrespectful. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I demand answers and I’m not going anywhere until I get them,” I fume.
Stoically, Nathan stares at me. As my chest heaves from my frustration and anger surging from me, he remains unfazed. And it only fuels my fire.
“I’ll call security,” the lady says behind me.
I square my shoulders, narrowing my gaze at Nathan. “I dare you.”
He shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary, Patricia,” he says to her but continues to glare at me.
“We’ll…um. We’ll come back,” a male says behind me.
I gasp.
Oh shit.
Two men scramble to get their things, glancing between Nathan and me. If I weren’t so enraged I’d care, but right now, I give zero shits.