You win, Isla.
Isla is over, and I’m once again thankful for her friendship. I called her while I was walking the three blocks to my place from Hadley’s. I went off on her and told her about everything that happened, and to my surprise, she didn’t tell me off for waking her up, and she hasn’t muttered a thing about I told you so.
“I can’t believe that he just came into her apartment. Does that mean that he has a key?”
“I have no goddamn clue.”
My phone vibrates again with a text message from Hadley. I look down at it: I’m so sorry, Wade. Please, just call me?
I toss the device across the couch as Isla applies the icepack to my jaw again, making me flinch.
“He got you good, Brass.”
“Fuck him and to hell with her.”
“Don’t say that, you ass. I saw the way you looked at her at Blended today, and I know that you won’t give up on her that easily. Plus, you owe me another two hundred.”
“It’s in my wallet, and it will be the last.”
“No, it won’t, and I’ll grab it before I go.”
I scoff and recoil as she presses the icepack too hard against my jaw.
“You know, I’ve never seen you so riled up about a woman before.”
“And?”
“And . . . I don’t think that you should give up on her that easily. You knew what you were getting into with her, and you decided to go ahead with it anyway.”
When I don’t respond, she pushes the matter further. “She obviously cares for you, because she went after you when you walked out of her bedroom, instead of staying in there with him. He’s probably just a dick she can ride.”
“I want to be the goddamn dick that she rides, the only one she climbs on.”
She laughs and runs a hand through my hair. “Listen to you, getting all possessive over her.”
I shake my head and lean back against the cold leather couch. “She’s not worth it.”
“I think that you’re lying to yourself again. When was the last time you broke your rules and went after a woman like this? Huh?”
“Never.”
“And that is exactly why you shouldn’t give up on her.”
“You don’t understand what I see. She’s hiding something, and it’s what is holding her back from life. It’s the same thing that is holding her back from me.”
“Make her realize that and bring her out of the darkness, Brass.”
“Easier said than done.”
She rolls her eyes and walks into my kitchen. She comes back with a tumbler of amber liquid and a beer for herself; she’s the only reason why there is beer in that damn fridge. I don’t even open it; my staff is in charge of what comes into the penthouse.
“Don’t you have a vital meeting about Australia in the morning?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you should get some sleep. And by the way, I’m coming with you in your fancy jet next week. I’d like to experience life down under again.”
“I’ve already told you that you are invited.”
“This is me taking you up on that offer,” she says with a smile before drinking from the bottle. “I’m crashing in the guest room until noon, and don’t you dare wake me up again. You’ll be in biting distance this time, and we wouldn’t want to risk your appendage.”
I shake my head and stand up, holding the icepack to my jaw. “I’ll see you later. Stay as long as you want.” I head up the stairs in my duplex penthouse to my master bedroom, where I strip down and crash on my bed.
I pick up my phone and decide to grow a pair by texting her back: Goodnight, Hadley.
She responds soon afterward: I’d rather be sleeping in your arms again than in this bed alone.
I’m surprised that shitbag didn’t stay: Where’s the other guy?
Does it matter? He’s not here. You’re the one that I want to be curled up with, not him.
Now she wants to be normal and not insist on sex and dirty deeds? Her fucking decisions are giving me whiplash.
Goodnight.
I’ve been inundated by myriad issues with the Australian property acquisition since I stepped foot into the office this morning. Adriana has kept herself on her feet with bringing me exactly what I need, when I need it.
I remind myself that I need to give this woman a raise before I leave for Australia.
“Mr. Brass, I took the liberty of clearing your schedule for lunch. I believe that today is going to be a late one,” she says, and she types away at her laptop on the other side of my desk.
“Very well. Arrange for delivery. It will give me time to read through the remainder of the Australian files.”
“Yes, sir.”
My phone goes off, and I glance down at it. Adriana hasn’t kept it in her desk since I broke my rule the first time with Hadley. It’s a text message from Isla: Brass, she’s here again. Can I kick her to the curb or are you going to give her another chance? She walked in and asked about you.
I sigh, resigned, and reply to her: I haven’t decided. Have her fill out the membership forms and get her settled. Her drinks are on me.
You’re turning into a softy. What happened to those brass balls?
I raise my eyebrows and chuckle: Exactly where they should be—alongside my cock.
She sends me a picture of herself flicking me off. She’s undeniably beautiful, she always has been, but she’s more of a sister to me than anything else. We got together at a college party in our senior year when we were too drunk to function, and it hasn’t happened since. Sure the sex was great, but our friendship outweighed the sexual attraction.
“Mr. Brass?” Adriana asks softly.
“Yes?” I look up at her, and she hands me another file.
“I’ve just emailed you the itinerary for Australia next week. Here are the specifics regarding your flight and hotel arrangements.”
“Thank you. Please ensure that Isla Madden has been added to all of the functions that I will be attending.”
“Of course.” She nods and gets up, leaving my office in silence.
“Are you going to tell me what exactly went down last night? I don’t think that I’ve seen Holden that mad before.”
“Yeah, well, you need to stop letting him in. He shouldn’t have free range over me.”
“Okay, I apologize for that, but I had no idea that Waylon Brass was asleep in your bed. I didn’t know that it was that serious.”
“I don’t know what it is, Lo,” I tell her honestly as I sip on my whiskey. When I told Lo that I needed a drink, she decided to tag along even though all she can drink here is water.
“I get it. I mean, this thing with Owen and me has gotten pretty serious fast, so I get that it’s difficult to grasp onto what a relationship or fling or whatever this is means.”
“I don’t think that he’s going to want much to do with me after last night.”
“I think that you’re drunk.” She giggles and scoots closer to me on the couch.
“I wish I was. Maybe I’ll make it my goal for today.”
“You’re insane, you know that? Don’t go getting drunk over a man who is probably not worth your time in gold condoms. I’m sure he’s been with another woman since you two haven’t made yourselves exclusive.”
“That’s the thing, even though we haven’t, I don’t think that he has.”
She sighs and reaches into her tote where she pulls out a magazine. “Have you seen this? I think that you might have some competition since this came out this morning. I saw it on my way to grab Owen and myself some coffee.”
“What is it?” I ask as I reach for it. My eyes widen at the image on GQ’s cover. Impeccably dressed in suit and tie, Wade stares back at me with the title Man of the Year written above his name. “Holy shit.”
“That’s what I thought. He’s fucking gorgeous, Hads, and it says in his spread that he’s single. I think that you should read it. He seems to be rather dedicated to his work as well as a
charity that he heads. He kind of made me swoon in my panties.”
“Lola,” I scold her as I flip through the pages to find his article, “you’re not getting this back; I hope you know that.”
“I figured, so I bought the rest of them that were on the stand, and probably saved eight women’s panties from death via drowning.”
I groan and take another drink of my whiskey. “To me, he’s just . . . Wade. He’s not this celebrity billionaire that the media makes him out to be.”
“Sweetheart, the man basically owns and runs Chicago, as well as Las Vegas.”
“I get that, but I don’t understand why they make such a big deal about him. He’s not an actor or anything.”
“So? Have you seen him? He’s absolutely gorgeous and worth every drop of ink that went into printing these magazines.”
I flip through another page of photographs of him before I settle on one of him looking away from the camera and out at the lake. I run my finger over his jawline and sigh. “He makes me feel wanted.”
“I’d say that you are. Especially by him.”
“You think so?”
“By the way he messed up Holden last night, I know so. If Holden didn’t know any better, I’m sure that he’d sue him, but I don’t think that he wants to mess things up with you.”
“You and I both know that I’m not interested in pursuing anything with Hold.”
“I might, but I doubt that he does.” She pats my knee and stands up. “I need to get to the boutique and open up. One of my girls called out sick.”
“All right.” I stand up and give her a hug before she grabs her things and walks out of Blended.
My mind goes to Wade and how last night must have looked to him. I sigh and throw my head back before placing the magazine into my purse and moving across the room to a quieter spot where I pull out the current novel that I’m reading to occupy my mind.
This shit feeling has made itself comfortable inside of me as I sit in his whiskey library alone after Lo left for work. I thought that coming here would soothe me in a way, but it’s only made the unease grow stronger. The emotion nestles itself in for the long haul, and I’m confident that I won’t be able to shake it, at least until I speak to him.
To add to the pressure on my heart, Isla keeps glancing over at me with her phone in her hand, and I swear, if she does it again I’m going to march over to her and demand for her to tell me what her issue is. She beats me to the punch, though, when she walks up to me, holding an application to the library.
“Hey Hadley. Mr. Brass is insistent that you fill out these forms,” she says and hands them to me.
“Hi, okay. I can do it now.”
Something about her stance makes me think that she’s somehow got more to say to me than to hand over an application. I’m sure that he wasn’t the reason she brought it to me, but what do I know?
“Great. Just bring it up to the bar when you’re done, okay?”
“You’ve got it,” I say, wanting her to leave me alone for the rest of the day. I just want to sit here and wallow in my self-pity after last night.
“And one more thing,” she adds, and there it is, “I know that it’s not my place to say this, but I’m going to regardless. Wade is one hell of a man, and if he’s too much for you to handle, then you need to let him go. He’s not someone who will fuck around with you, or go out of his way to let you know what he’s feeling. With that being said, it was sure fucking obvious as to how he felt last night with a swollen and bruised jaw. He deserves better than you, and why he’s stooping down to your level baffles me.”
My mouth drops open in bewilderment. I’m usually the woman who takes people by the balls and swings them around a bit, but she just shoved my lady balls up into my throat. I force a swallow before I try out my voice.
“H-how the hell do you know about any of this?”
“Wade and I go back to our college years. He’s pretty much my best friend, and if you fuck with him again, I swear that I will roofie your drink and watch some asshole drag you out of this place by your nipples. Getting a call from him at four-thirty in the morning never happens.”
I swear, if she wasn’t threatening me, I think I would actually get along with her assertive, bitchy self.
“He called you?”
“Uh, yeah. Who the hell else tended to his fucked-up jaw since you were too busy with the other guy?”
I pause because I want to launch myself at her like Wade did to Holden last night. “I didn’t give aid to anyone.” I shift in my seat and brush a stray curl off of my face.
“Sure you didn’t. Bring me that application when you’re done filling it out.”
I look down at the form and don’t respond to her as she walks away. My mind goes into overdrive trying to figure out if there is something romantic going on between them, but if there were, why would she know about me?
She wouldn’t, I tell myself.
An anticipation to see him boils deep in my belly, the build-up of it will be too much to handle pretty soon. The knowledge that he was with another woman last night adds to the buzzing uneasiness that I feel. I never compete with another woman for any man, but for some reason, I’m more than willing to for Waylon Brass.
I dig a pen out of my purse and proceed to fill in the membership forms. My mind is still reeling with what Isla said and how pissed off she was. I dare a glance at her, and she’s watching me while she’s on the phone with someone. Wade maybe? I don’t know, but I think we’re too much alike in a way. She’s not afraid to take charge and wrestle a bull by its balls, which pretty much describes me as well. An argument between the two of us could be catastrophic.
I finish filling out my information and set the application down on the coffee table before me and take a drink of the whiskey I ordered when I first arrived.
Despite my unease, I lean back against the leather seat and shut my eyes, remembering last night. I’ve never slept that soundly before, not since my mother took her own life. The numerous flashbacks to last night make me tense up. He was beyond irate, and Holden just egged him on. I seriously need to speak to Holden about his behavior, but even more importantly, I wish Wade would at the very least call me back so I can apologize to him.
I have no idea when or how I became attached to the thought of having him, but it’s engraved itself into the breastplate covering my heart. I would do anything to give last night a redo. I’d make sure that my door was locked and that Holden knew to stay away, but in reality, I know it would never happen. I told Wade that it was what I was going to do, regardless of what I had just talked myself into earlier that day. He doesn’t know that I’ve decided to give him a chance—sans another man’s dick.
He won’t know that I’m going to actually try to stop using the physical act of sex as a coping mechanism for depression. My anxiety rears its ugly head at the thought of my setting aside my sexual habits while I figure out what’s different between Wade and me. I use deep breathing in an attempt to ease it, but it does not seem to help.
I’ll have to figure out something else to numb the pain and memories while the guilt and shame of my past creep back into my heart. It’s going to be like breaking an addiction: I’ll be off-balance, but the withdrawal from something physical for something emotional might be worth the cost. Not everyone agrees that sexual addiction is an actual diagnosed addiction, but I can vouch for it. I’ve gone to extremes for sex, none of which I am proud of, but it was what I thought I needed to heal—until now. Now it’s almost obvious that I’ve been sprinting down the wrong path for all of these years.
It’s time to find my dopamine high somewhere else, and I think I know exactly where I can get it naturally. Only time will tell, though. I’m deciding to fight for myself for the first time in my life, and it’s all because I met Waylon Brass—the one man who refuses to give me what I want, what I need.
A glass of whiskey later, and I’ve moved to the couch next to the fireplace with my paperback. I
hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep until I’m jolted off of the couch. I force my eyes open and glance at the arms surrounding me. I begin to panic, but relax into them when I hear his dark voice.
“How long has she been asleep? Is she drunk?”
“Nope, at least I don’t think so. She just had two tumblers. She’s just been lights-out for over an hour. I figured I should let you know, though. I wasn’t sure if she was sick or whatever. Maybe just desperate for your attention.”
“Thank you, Isla. I owe you for this shit.”
“Oh, you have no idea, buddy. I’m banking on that Australian trip.”
I keep my eyes shut as they speak, trying to stay awake, but I end up drifting off in his arms as I feel his body move.
When I open my eyes again, I’m surrounded by darkness. It’s pitch black in here, and I cannot figure out where I am for the life of me. A door to the unknown room cracks open and a stream of light illuminates a neutral-colored bedroom. I sit up and push my hair off of my face before realizing that I’m in a bed.
“You’re awake.”
“Wade?”
“Yes. You know, you shouldn’t go around falling asleep in public places. Some asshole could take you home with him without your realizing it.”
“Where am I?”
“We’re at my place. I wanted you out of the public eye, and I didn’t think going back to your apartment would be a good idea because if I see him again, I will slaughter him.”
I push the plush bedding down my body and realize that I’m not even wearing my outfit from earlier. I frown and look up at him as he crosses the room to stand next to the bed.
“You changed me?”
“Yes. I didn’t for the first couple of hours, but I figured that I should eventually, seeing as you’ll be staying the night.”
Blended (Redemption #1) Page 10