Flying High (Davis Brothers Book 2)

by Nicole Douglas

  “Why don’t we call it a night?” I switch my controller off as he powers down the system.

  “We can get back to it next weekend.” He agrees eagerly.

  “See ya.” I toss my controller onto the couch cushion and let myself out the front door.

  It only takes me twenty steps to get to my apartment, stairs included. On late nights like this it paid off to live so close to each other.

  Natalie is meticulous about keeping the door locked so I have to use my key to let myself in, even though I can’t be far behind her in getting home. I learned the hard way early on that if I left, even to visit Max, I better bring my key or risk being locked out.

  It was a good thing though. After the things I had seen being a door locking fanatic was a good quality in a roommate. We didn’t need anyone from our past letting themselves in to settle an old score in the middle of the night. Or using me as a pawn to get revenge on my father, falsely believing he actually gave a shit about me.

  You never knew what someone might be thinking. Dad drew entirely too much attention to me with his actions. I didn’t help the situation by owing people unpaid drug money all over town.

  So, yeah, it was best to keep the door securely locked and to keep an eye open at all times. There weren’t many people I trusted in the world after the things I had witnessed, the things I had done. In fact there were only three people I could honestly say had my full trust. Max. Lacey. And Nat.

  The first thing I hear when I walk through the doorway is ‘Todd was stabbed over thirty times by his wife’. Well if that didn’t make me reconsider who I should be trusting…

  The ID channel flashes across the TV screen and all the lights are off. Natalie shrieks and jumps when she hears the door shut behind me.

  “Should I be worried? All you watch these days is murder porn.” I joke, knowing I had nothing to worry about.

  “You scared me.”

  “Maybe you should leave a light on when you watch this shit. It’s creepy as fuck.”

  “It’s addictive!”

  “How do you sleep after watching this shit?”

  I join her on the couch, not willing to admit I’m sucked into the mystery playing out. Who the hell killed this guy and where did they go? Why thirty times? Seemed a bit excessive, but who was I to judge?

  “I usually watch a documentary before I go to bed to offset the creepiness.”

  She doesn’t answer any more of my questions and I’m forced to be quiet and try to catch up on what I’ve missed since the episode started.

  We watch to the end and find out his new girlfriend was jealous of his ex-wife and killed him in a fit of unwarranted jealous rage.

  So my sex drought was definitely looking like a good thing. My luck I would find a resentful psycho and end up stabbed to death when they found out I lived with a beautiful girl I had a crush on for years.

  Not worth the risk.

  ☠　Chapter Eight ☠

  Natalie

  Friday night we lock up the office to the treatment center and hand over the residential responsibilities to the weekend staff. We get in Chris’s car and I look over at him in annoyance when he pulls out on the street.

  “Put on your damn seatbelt, Chris. I’m always telling you.”

  “Okay, damn woman, I’m putting it on.” He pulls it across his chest and clicks it in place with a huff. “What do you want for dinner?”

  “Pizza?”

  His face lights up and all is instantly forgiven since I’m suggesting one of his favorites. “Pineapple?”

  “Mmm. Yes.”

  He revs the engine obnoxiously making me laugh and calls in our order. One large pineapple pizza and breadsticks with garlic dipping sauce. It doesn’t take long for us to get to the pizza place to pick it up on the way home. Rumbling echoes from my empty stomach as I wait in the car while he runs in to pay.

  As soon as he hands me the box I open it and take a deep breath, loving the smell of the sweet and salty blend. The enticing aroma fills the car and lures me in.

  “You better wait for me to get home, Nat. That’s not fair!” Chris whines as I gaze down at the pizza longingly.

  It’s obviously been too long since we’ve had pizza if I’m salivating and practically fighting an orgasmic moan at the sight in my lap. I ignore his pleas from the driver’s seat and pick off a piece of pineapple, popping it into my mouth.

  “Mmm.”

  “Cheater!” He takes his right hand off the steering wheel and reaches for the box. We swerve onto the shoulder, bouncing over the sleeper lines on the side.

  I smack his hand away. “Hands on wheel!”

  He pouts his lower lip dramatically and shoots me a look before side-eying the box splayed on top of my lap.

  “Eyes on the road!”

  He looks straight ahead and I take pity on him, picking off another chunk of pineapple and holding it up to his lips. He opens his mouth eagerly and I place it on top of his tongue. He bites down gently on my fingers before I can pull them back and I watch him lick the pineapple juice and grease from each of my fingers.

  OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod.

  His tongue traces my index finger. When he’s done there he lazily moves on to my thumb, swirling his tongue over the sensitive pad.

  He looks back up from what he’s doing and his eyes slow to meet mine. The air is thick and I fight the urge to suck my fingers into my mouth to taste them as he had just done. To taste the residual traces of him.

  I swallow hard and whisper, “Eyes on the road.”

  My voice sounds breathy, even to me. He chuckles but returns his attention to the road and keeps his focus there for the rest of the drive home.

  ☠　☠　☠　☠　☠

  There’s no more finger sucking or heated gazes when we get back to the apartment and greedily finish our pizza. Maybe we were both delirious from hunger. Yes, that was it. We were both transported back into our right minds as we stuffed cheesy, pineapple-y pizza in our faces and full on gorged.

  Together we finished the whole thing. My stomach distended from the four pieces I ate and I was stuffed. I had to unbutton my pants for comfort when my jeans started squeezing me too tight.

  No way in hell was I remotely attractive right now.

  Chris didn’t have that problem. He rubbed at his abs and kept stuffing pizza in his mouth until we finished the entire box. The last piece was all his. If I ate another bite I was going to throw up and ruin the taste of pineapple pizza for myself for years to come. I couldn’t risk a tragedy like that.

  “Don’t tell Max about this.”

  I laugh under my breath, thinking that maybe Max was onto something and could have saved us the pain of overeating. “I won’t.”

  “You better not.” He uses the crust from his last piece to motion across his throat before stuffing it in his mouth too. “Or else.”

  I toss my discarded crust at him, hitting him square in the chest. It bounces off and he catches it before it hits the floor, taking a bite from the end. I laugh harder at his silliness, happy things were back to normal between us after our heated drive home.

  We finish the evening watching the Blackfish documentary and I confess that it’s my dream to see orcas in the wild someday. They’re such beautiful creatures and seeing them in the ocean where they belong is definitely on my bucket list.

  ☠　☠　☠　☠　☠

  The next day Lacey and I have an appointment at a dress boutique. We’re there to find the perfect wedding dress for her and I’ve looked forward to it all week. Upon arrival I’m told she scheduled an hour for bridesmaid dress fitting too without my knowledge.

  I’ve told her at least a thousand times to just pick a bridesmaid dress she likes. I’ll wear whatever she wants me to. Red, blue, polka dot. Short, long, big ugly bows on the back, freaking turtlenecks.

  It’s her wedding.

  She must have grown tired of that evasive answer and took matters into her own hands. She assured me she wanted
me to feel comfortable and beautiful in the dress and that would require me to help pick it out.

  Not wanting to put more stress on her, I shut up and agree to pick something today.

  We walk through a sea of white gowns and sit in comfy white leather chairs in a room covered in mirrors with crystal chandeliers hanging above each sitting area. It’s a fancy boutique and I’m excited to see which dresses Lacey wants to try on. I consider the fact that I should probably have skipped the third and fourth slice of pizza last night when I catch a side glimpse of myself from the side in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors.

  Cringe.

  I take a seat and listen as Lacey explains to the dress assistant that she likes mermaid style, sweetheart necklines and sparkles. Tons of sparkles. The woman exudes enthusiasm and happily prances off in search of some dresses that match the description.

  “I didn’t know you wanted mermaid style. That’s going to look gorgeous on you!”

  And I mean it. Her hourglass figure is the perfect fit for a mermaid style gown. It’ll showcase her perfect curves and hug her hips in a sexy but classy fashion.

  “I hope so.” She chews on her lip. “We decided to have the ceremony on the beach. It’s a special place for us. For Max too. It’s a way for his mom to still be there, you know?”

  I nod, knowing the significant of the setting they chose without her having to explain. Their mother loved the beach and took the boys there at least once a week before her death.

  Chris had shared this with me last year when he disappeared to the beach for a day and didn’t answer his phone. Worried out of my mind, I confronted him when he finally got back home and he explained it was the anniversary of his mom’s death.

  “That’s a great way to include her Lacey. I love that idea.”

  “Plus that was the first place I got naked in front of Max.”

  We both laugh quietly, hoping to not draw the attention of the other brides-to-be. “Well then it’s fitting for you two to say your vows there.”

  Before she can respond the girl returns with several dresses draped over her arm. She can barely see over the mountain of chiffon, lace and silk. I offer to help but she cheerfully refuses, disappearing into a dressing room to sort through her finds.

  After hanging the dresses up on wall hooks she beckons Lacey inside. With one last excited look my way she heads for the room to try on the first dress.

  I wish her mom could be here today but with her work schedule, it was hard for her to make the four hour drive. I was grateful that I got to be here to share this special moment with Lacey and promised to send her mom pictures of each dress.

  While I wait for her to show off her first dress I browse through a few bridesmaid dresses. There are so many colors and styles to choose from. It’s overwhelming. I can only imagine how brides must feel searching through these racks, desperate to find the perfect dress for their once in a lifetime day.

  Which one should I try on? Something short? Hell no. That’s a jab waiting to happen with Max anywhere in the vicinity. No matter how politely silent he’s been lately there’s no way he could resist commenting on something like that. He would have to bite his tongue in half to keep his mouth shut.

  The last thing I wanted was to feel like shit about myself on my best friend’s big day. I was supposed to be focused on her and her happiness, not my insecurities. Not throwing a pity party somewhere because her husband was being a low-key asshole.

  So all I know is that I need a long dress. Probably something flowing since we will be on the beach in the middle of the summer. Definitely nothing too low-cut. The girls needed to be carefully contained.

  The door opens to the dressing room and I turn my attention back to my friend.

  “Ohmigod Lacey! You look amazing!”

  She carefully steps out of the room in a fitted mermaid style dress. It was frilly on the bottom and tightly fitted down to her knees. Walking looked difficult and she appeared slightly stiff. She looks at herself critically in the mirror and I can immediately tell there’s something about this one that just doesn’t do it for her. It’s not the one.

  “I like the top.” She comments, always finding a way to be positive even when she hated something. “But the bottom? Not so much. Not at all actually. It’s too…”

  “Frilly and poufy?” I supply.

  “Yes, exactly.” She agrees, scrunching her nose.

  The girl helping us bustles her back into the dressing room to put on the second dress. Then the third. I’ve pulled two dresses from the rack to try on later and draped them over the back of a couch when she walks out in The Dress.

  Mermaid style? Check.

  Sparkles? Check.

  Sweetheart neckline? Check.

  Lack of hideous ruffles? Double check.

  Lacey bursts into tears of happiness when she sees herself in the mirror and I know this is the last dress for her to try on today. We have a winner. This is the one she’s going to wear down the aisle on her special day.

  I rush over to the platform and wrap her in a tight hug.

  “You look so beautiful! Max is going to cream his pants when he sees you!”

  The dress attendant blushes a deep red at my words. Maybe I should watch my mouth in public. Oh well. It was already out there and it earned me a tearful laugh from Lacey.

  “Pose. Your mom wants a picture.” I pull up the camera on my phone and send the final photo, typing out a quick message that this is it.

  “This is the one.” She tells the attendant. “I want this one for sure.”

  She nods and helps Lacey back into the dressing room to remove the dress and zip it back up into the protective sheath. We spend a few minutes browsing veils and she picks one with pearls embellishing the comb that secures it into her hair. It’s truly perfect for her beach theme and everything is typing together beautifully.

  Next up is me with my two floor length dresses. I go for simple. They don’t earn the same emotional reaction that Lacey’s dress did.

  Instead of insulting my bland choices she finds two more dresses for me to try on that are similar styles to what I picked. The difference is she goes straight for the cleavage baring ones I avoided my first time down the dress rack.

  “I can’t wear this skanky dress at your wedding.”

  “Skanky?” She rolls her eyes. “It’s sexy.”

  “Same difference.”

  “No. It’s not. I want you to feel sexy and beautiful. Besides, if you’re covering your legs, you need to show some boobies.”

  “You’re the only one that needs to be beautiful at your wedding. And no, I don’t need to flash my tits to all your guests.”

  I tug on the plain dress but she shakes her head. “I’ll love anything you choose, Nat. But pick something you like. Don’t worry about what other people think.”

  My mom had always made sure my hair was dyed and styled perfectly, makeup was hiding any blemishes and my clothes were attractive and stylish at all times. She would no doubt turn her nose up to my current dress choice. In fact she would probably stomp her feet and demand I put this trash back on the hanger and find something cute.

  Short.

  Attention grabbing.

  And she would be right about at least one thing. There was nothing special about the dress. I didn’t much like it if I were being completely honest. But it kept my tits and legs appropriately covered which was definitely a plus.

  Lacey ignored my lackluster response to the dress and sifted through the hangers for more options. She didn’t question my choice of length and modest coverage up top but she did go for ones that had a bit more pizzazz.

  “Try this one on and see how you feel.”

  She handed me one with an illusion neckline that I admit was both attractive and tasteful at the same time. It wasn’t one I would’ve picked for myself but the more I look at it the more I find myself wanting to see what it looks like on me.

  When I walk out of the dressing room and see myself
in the mirror I can’t fight a smile of awe at how tasteful the dress looks. It hugs my curves but isn’t skin tight and it falls right above the knee.

  “You were right. This is really pretty.” I twirl around. “I think I want this one.”

  “You do?” Lacey beamed in excitement and a hint of pride that she found it. “I love the neckline. It isn’t too revealing but it’s sexy. It leaves a bit of mystery and allure.”

  “What color?”

  “Coral or turquoise? It’s up to you. Those are the wedding colors.”

  I look at the mirror again and try to imagine each of the colors before making a final decision. “Coral.”

  “Good choice.”

  The dressing room assistance writes down the design numbers for each of the dresses we chose and brings her paper to the cashier for our orders to be places. Lacey pays the deposit on both dresses and turns to me.

  “That was exhausting as fuck. You want to get a drink?”

  “You know it.”

  ☠　☠　☠　☠　☠

  We end up at Olive Garden for lunch after a brief debate on where to go. She wanted to avoid carb temptations but I had other plans. We each order a Pinot Noir with salads, hoping to still fit into our dresses five months from now.

  The smell of pasta was tempting as fuck but I manage to resist and I forced myself to stop at just one breadstick. It was the hardest thing I had to do in a long, long time.

  Lacey has gazed at them with desire but somehow managed to avoid eating one altogether. Willpower was an amazing thing. I didn’t possess enough of it to not have at least one breadstick though. That was part of the reason I chose this restaurant to begin with.

  I loved food. Thank God Max and his crazed diet preaching were nowhere around to ruin this moment.

  Now I know how Chris feels being forced on such a restrictive diet. His grumpiness at meal times suddenly made sense. The boy was starving and deprived of starches and calories.

  I made a vow to myself that I would help sneak him snacks and cheat meals a lot more often. I decide to ask for a to-go box and pack him up some breadsticks since neither of us was going to eat any more of them.