Tame Me

by Natalie Rios

  Unlocking the home screen, I land on a familiar text conversation. The one from yesterday morning, when Brody told me the coast was clear for me to return to the office. Except...

  Wait a minute. My texts are usually in blue and the other person’s in grey. But on this screen, mine are in grey and Brody’s in blue. Which means...

  This isn’t my phone.

  Just to confirm, I look to the top of the screen, at the contact’s name. And my heart just about lurches out of my chest.

  I know his nickname for me is Queen and considering I told him I was entering him as Satan, I’m not surprised that’s what he’s stored my number as. What does throw me for a loop? The word before Queen.

  My Queen.

  Oh shit. Oh shit. This means something, right? This totally means something! This –

  Is a complete invasion of privacy, considering this isn’t my phone and I was never meant to see it in the first place.

  A quick sidelong glance towards the bed lets me know Brody is still sleeping. And that my phone is on the other nightstand.

  Leaving him a note explaining my whereabouts, I tiptoe my way out of his home. I still have a party to kick off and I’m more determined than ever to make sure this event is a success.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “This party is perfect!” Mina squeals hours later. “And oh, my god! The decorations are amazing!”

  It’s true. All around us, people are snapping pictures, commenting on how much the place resembles a movie set. Even Brody looks impressed, rocking back on his heels and grinning from ear to ear.

  “You did good, Your Highness,” he says and my entire body vibrates with happiness. No buts or qualifiers this time. This is actual praise.

  “Your brother’s vodka is super smooth.” Kyle’s swirling a glass of...I’m not sure what, in his hand. “We’ve got to start ordering this stuff for the bar.”

  “He’s here, you know. And I’m sure he’s more than willing to talk business.” Jackson is always ready to talk business. That’s probably the only reason he personally delivered the liquor, hoping to wrangle a new client.

  “Oh my god,” Mina cuts in. “Is that Fallon?”

  We all turn as a unit, me jumping and clapping with excitement while everyone else’s jaw drops. Fallon is wearing a strapless, floor-length dress in a shade that can only be described as shocking pink. A huge bow in the back, long gloves reaching up to almost her shoulders and a diamond choker and bracelet set complete the look.

  “Gentleman Prefer Blondes, right?” she smirks.

  I poke Brody in the chest. “I told you the outfit would be appropriate.”

  “And surprisingly, yours is too,” he grins, a finger trailing down the side of my midnight black bodice. The skirt is a cascade of white tulle offset by vine designs flowing to about one third of the way to the hemline. My only jewelry? A strand of white pearls.

  Yup, I’m Lisa from Rear Window.

  “Being a Grace Kelly doppelganger has its benefits every once in a while,” I quip. “Who are you supposed to be?”

  “The boss.”

  Of course. Brody hadn’t wanted to dress up. We argued about it several days ago, with me encouraging him to lead by example. I shouldn’t have wasted my breath. The dratted man had shown up in one of his usual suits.

  Then again, Brody in suit is easily sexier than 90% of the other men in attendance. Scratch that, 100%. Because there’s not a single man sexier than Brody.

  I turn away from him to search the crowd again. My eyes land on Robbie Rockwell and I instantly wave him over.

  “Oh, my,” Fallon whispers at my ear. “Please tell me that’s not the man you were trying to set Mina up with. Please tell me he’s my date for the evening.”

  Brody takes immediate exception to this idea. “You’re trying to set my sister up?”

  “He’s not here for Fallon. Or Mina. He’s here for me.” I pivot to meet Robbie halfway, but Brody hooks an arm around my waist.

  “For you?”

  “Relax. He’s the artist who did the decorations. And Eddie’s brother,” I add. No use denying it. The resemblance will be obvious in few more seconds. Those Rockwell siblings all have the same unique turquoise eyes. “Hey, Robbie!”

  “Hey, Charlotte. Fabulous party.” Though his words are for me, his eyes are all for Fallon. And Fallon is staring right back at him.

  Uh oh.

  Those two getting together would be a colossal mistake. For many, many reasons. The least of which being the age gap. Standing between the two, I steer Robbie away from baby Connors. “Here, I’d like you to meet the resort’s owner. This is Brody-”

  “Excuse me, may I have your attention please?” A male voice fills the speakers and the DJ immediately cuts the music. We all look towards the stage at the front of the room.

  “Isn’t that Eddie?” Confused, Robbie looks down at me. “Did you know he was here, Char?”

  No, because my stupid self had assumed he left after the whole puppy debacle.

  Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I try to calm down. I’m not in any actual danger, this is just a little uncomfortable. Who cares if Eddie’s still here? Who cares if he’s talking into a microphone in front of a crowded room? He would never hurt me.

  Repeating that last sentence, I begin to relax my fingers, bending them at the knuckle one at a time.

  “I believe in soulmates. The idea that every soul has a twin, a kindred spirit you don’t have to hold back from. The one person who can see your imperfections and still accept you for who you are. Together, you form a relationship whose beauty and depth increases with each passing year,” Eddie says through the mic.

  “What the hell is he talking about? Is he drunk?” Several people in our immediate area turn around to shush Robbie. Looks like we have a few romantics in the house.

  “Some people spend their entire lives searching for their soulmate. I’ve been fortunate enough to have known mine for fifteen years.”

  Brody tenses while Mina and Fallon grimace. Even Robbie mutters an, “Ah, fuck.”

  As for me? I’m an ice sculpture, frozen in place. There’s no stopping this train wreck now.

  “And I’m eager for us to start the next chapter of our lives,” Eddie continues. He retrieves a box from the pocket of his sport coat and oh, god. There’s a ring. A diamond, from the looks of it. When the hell did he get a chance to buy that thing?

  Getting down on one knee, he asks the question I’ve been dreading since he began his little speech. “Charlotte Kensington, will you marry me?”

  My friends and I discussed this very scenario a few years ago, when Mags got engaged. Liz had been dating Adam for eons and we all knew it was just a matter of time before he proposed. We brainstormed how we thought Adam would do it and I jokingly suggested him getting down on bended knee at his family’s annual Christmas party.

  “The old proposal in front of a crowd trick? It’s a trap,” Liz had snorted.

  “A horrible one,” Mags added. “Can you imagine if your answer is no? God, talk about awkward. I would have to pull him to the side and let him down in private.”

  “But everyone will know that’s what you’re doing. Otherwise, you would have just said yes. See, you can’t say no. That’s why it’s a trap.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you say yes to save yourself the embarrassment? What happens next? You get a divorce down the road? Sounds like a pain in the ass, but I guess it’s a good thing you’re a lawyer.”

  Liz shook her head. “Don’t be silly. You break it off in private.”

  “What the hell’s the point? Everyone’s just going to be wondering why you said yes in the first place. Or assume the worst and think one of you cheated.”

  “Who has the balls to say no in front of a large crowd?” Liz argued.

  “I do,” I boasted. “I would tell him HELL NO and throw the ring in his face before making a quick getaway.”

  Liz smirked at me, like s
he knew something I didn’t and probably would have argued some more, but Mags jumped in first with a joke. “Right. I guess they don’t call you the Wild Child for nothing.” We had all shared a laugh at my expense and that had been the end of it.

  Except now that it’s actually happening to me, I wish we had talked about it more. I wish I could phone a friend, call one of them right now and ask for advice. Because they were right. Saying no in front of a cheering crowd is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

  I don’t want to marry Eddie, but he’s a nice guy. And a good friend. He doesn’t deserve to be turned down in front of a packed room.

  At the same time, I’m livid. Because never in the ten years of our friends-with-benefits situation had I given any indication I was interested in anything more. And the people in this room may be strangers to him, but some of them had become like family to me.

  Brody.

  Fucking hell, I can’t even look at Brody right now. We had sex this morning. I woke up in his bed this afternoon. And now, hours later, the guy I had told him was a family friend is on bended knee with a diamond ring.

  No, I can’t bear to look at Brody right now. Besides, I have a much bigger problem to deal with first.

  “Charlotte?” Speaking of Dennis the Menace, Eddie is still down on his knee, waving me onto the stage. “Get on up here, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? He’s never used that term of endearment with me before. I march towards him. “I know I must have given you a shock-”

  “Je veux te parler en privé,” I hiss, praying Eddie understands I don’t want anyone else to know what I’m saying.

  Frowning, he asks, “Pourquoi?” French. Thank god.

  I repeat my request, this time holding out a hand. Eddie finally stands and the second his hand touches mine, I yank him out of there.

  Without a doubt, this will go down as the most humiliating moment of my life. Cheeks burning, I try to ignore all the whispers and curious stares we receive as we exit. We make our way to the picnic tables outside and choosing the one furthest from the building, I gesture for Eddie to sit down.

  “What the hell, Ed! I haven’t talked to you in months and then you show up here and propose?”

  Eddie blinks up at me. “You’re angry?”

  “Of course I’m angry! I don’t want to marry you. We’re not even in a relationship!”

  A glint of anger flashes in his eyes. “What would you call what we’ve been doing all these years?”

  “Friends with benefits.”

  “Nobody does friends with benefits for ten years, Charlotte.”

  I pause, because...well, he has a point. All the FWB situations I remember from college either progressed into a relationship or fizzled out after a few months. Some had lasted longer than others, but nothing had gone on for years.

  Fuck. How did I let things get so out of control?

  “You’re right. I should have ended it years ago.”

  He brushes something off his shirt, not quite meeting my gaze. “That’s not what I was getting at.” Damn it. I’m messing everything up again, aren’t I?

  “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. This is hard for me.” Taking a seat next to him, I bury my head in my hands. How can I be honest without hurting his feelings? “You’re a great guy, Ed. Truly. One of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. You were there for me at a point in my life when it was impossible for me to let anyone in. You never gave up on me and for that, I will always be grateful.

  “And you’re a fantastic guy, Eddie. Smart, funny, and charming. You deserve a girl who is going to break down into tears at the sight of seeing you on bended knee. You deserve a girl who’s so happy you chose her, she’ll be singing it from every mountaintop. And you will make some lucky girl ridiculously happy one day. That girl...just isn’t me.”

  “Even though this would solve all your problems? With my money, you wouldn’t have to keep working here. Everything would go back to how it was before.”

  “How it was before?” I shake my head on a mirthless laugh. “Where I bounce around from place to place and we see each other maybe once or twice a year so we can have sex? I’m happier here, where I have a job I like and work alongside people I truly care about.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t about your boss?” His question has a bitter undercurrent to it. Yeah, he’s definitely picked up on the sexual chemistry between me and Brody.

  “No,” I firmly reply. “This is about me. I actually like having responsibilities. I like being known as just Charlotte and not one of those crazy Kensingtons. These people depend on me. I’m not a disappointment to them. I love it here. And all of that is completely separate from Brody.”

  “Brody, huh? Not Satan?” Shaking his head, he stands. “Where does that leave us, then?”

  “Hopefully still friends. I will always be your friend.”

  “Friends. Sure.” He’s hurt, but I don’t know what else to say, what words will make this easier for him. I have nothing more to offer him and he must sense this is the end. Because instead of hugging me or kissing my cheek like he usually does, he waves. Waves. “See you around, kid.”

  And then he’s gone, walking back towards the main hotel building.

  Fuck. How could I have been so blind? I was so wrapped up in my own shit I didn’t realize Eddie had wanted more. I meant what I said. He’s a great guy and I want to be friends. But I have a feeling going after him now will only make things worse.

  Plus, this weirdness with Eddie isn’t even the only problem on my plate tonight. There’s an entire party I’m supposed to be co-hosting. Leaving everything to Fallon wouldn’t be fair.

  But, ugh. Going back to the party is going to be très embarrassing. Especially since I’ll be going back alone. Everyone’s going to know exactly what happened.

  Maybe Liz had been right all along. Public proposals are a trap and you’re always supposed to say yes.

  I don’t know how much time passes, but sometime later I hear someone approaching the picnic table. The only person I can think of who would go searching for me and Eddie is my brother. “I’m not in the mood, Jax.”

  “I’m not Jax.” Brody. I swivel on the bench to look back at him. Stony faced, he helps himself to the spot beside me, sitting sideways so we can face each other. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you engaged?” And just like that, I burst into tears. “Jesus. Don’t cry, Charlotte.” He tucks me into his chest, but I shove him away.

  “It’s time for that explanation I owe you.” He’s shaking his head before I even finish my sentence.

  “You don’t have to-”

  I press my palm against his chest. Needing the beat of his heart to steady me. “Please. I want to.”

  Nodding, he removes his suit jacket and slings it over my shoulders. “You look cold.”

  Smiling, I murmur a thank you before taking a deep breath and crossing my fingers. “When I was twenty, I was raped.”

  He sucks in a breath. “Charlotte...” He’s floundering, at a complete loss for words. Brody isn’t much of a talker on a good day and with a revelation like that, I didn’t expect him to become Mr. Soothing overnight. But the way he’s holding my gaze and gently running his hands up and down my arms comforts me. “Please tell me that motherfucker is buried six feet under or give me his address so I can see to it.”

  I continue on a watery smile, happy to hear he’s still on my side. “I was visiting Jackson and we went to a party at his friend Parker’s apartment. Eddie was there, too. The three of them were like the three musketeers back then. Anyway, I got a little too drunk. Parker had been flirting with me all night and I enjoyed the attention. Encouraged it, even.”

  I pause. This is the hardest part for me to accept. The part where all of my doubts and self-loathing usually kick in.

  Be strong, Charlotte. Be strong.

  “He invited me up to his room and I went with him. When we got there, we started messing around. Nothing too heavy,
mostly just making out and groping above the clothes. I told him to stop when he tried to unbutton my pants. He – He didn’t listen. Parker just laughed, said I’d been asking for it all night. He pinned to the bed and I couldn’t get out from under him. Screaming didn’t help. Everyone was downstairs and the music was too loud.

  “I don’t know how much time passed, but Eddie walked in at some point in the middle of it. Just turned the knob and there he was. He launched himself across the room and got me out of there. He snuck us out of the party and took me to the hospital.”

  “Charlotte...” He runs a hand through his hair and the expression in his eyes changes. Like he’s seeing me for the first time. And fuck, does that hurt. How one event from my past can completely change what he thinks of me. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? All the times we’ve had sex, I’ve been so rough with you. Christ, there was that time I had you pinned down on the floor of my office-”

  “And I loved every minute of it,” I cut in. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to treat me like I’m fragile. Like I’m weak or on the verge of a breakdown. And I didn’t want you to look at me differently. Like you’re doing right now.”

  Without warning, he grabs my chin, angling our faces so only a few inches separate us. “I am looking at you differently, but not in the way you’re thinking. I don’t think you’re damaged or broken. You are strong, resilient. You’re not the carefree trust fund baby who’s just skating through life. You know what it is to feel hurt. You know what’s it’s like to be down. And most importantly, you know how to pick yourself back up. That is one of the most admirable traits a human being can have.

  “You’re not damaged and you’re definitely not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you and anyone who says otherwise is a complete dumbass.”

  I don’t know what to say. “That’s the most you’ve ever said to me.” Except that lame ass sentence, apparently.