by Kristy Marie
My phone chimes beside me where I currently lay, wrapped only in a towel, staring at the popcorn ceiling in my bedroom. Sue finally gave up on me and let me self-destruct alone. Tomorrow I will have to apologize and hug her for trying to console me. Any other time, I probably would have let her, but not today. Today has too many issues for me to deal with and Sue need not witness my fallout firsthand.
The chime alerts me again, and I’m second guessing my decision not to turn it off. Groaning, I flop over to my stomach, grace and poise not on my mind at all, and grab the noise maker.
It’s Jess. I know something is wrong, bitch. Answer your phone. You don’t send me a text saying, ‘not today Satan’, when all I asked was if you were done with your Ant-Man review. Answer. Your. Phone.
Then Milos joins in. Jess is threatening to fly to Georgia, and I quote, “To massacre every motherfucker in that teeny tiny town until she finds you.” What’s going on? We’re here for you.
I almost smile. I love my friends. Jess texts, Cade is dead. And that fucker Hayes, too. Unless he’s hot. I’ll fuck him first before I smother him with the gigantic boobs I’ve yet to pay off.
I read the next one and stop short when I see it’s from Cade. I didn’t want to give you a ride home. I never did.
I knew that and the fact that he’s worried pains me. But I continue, reading the next text from Jess. What’s this Anniston bitch’s last name? Van Helsing? Apparently, the airlines don’t allow weapons on the plane. I’ll have to drive. B!!!
The final text from Milos does me in. The best heroes are the ones who hide in the shadows. Their resilience is always the deadliest.
Each text, in their own way, make me cry harder. I miss Jess. And though I’ve never met Milos, I miss his ass too. He’s right, though. Resilience is the best superpower, and I have it in spades.
I am a motherfucking warrior.
My brother would kick my ass if he saw me wallowing on the floor like an idiot. I may have lost him to the war, but he’s never left my side. He’s been with me this whole time.
And like karma and Thor threw me a bone, thunder rattles the window in the old farmhouse and I find myself throwing on clothes like it’s a sport, grabbing my phone and rushing outside.
I run through the orchards, swiping at the leaves, a euphoric tingling zipping beneath my skin. Lightning flashes and the heavens open, the rain pouring down in sheets. I fall to my knees with a cry that I’m not sure is happy or sad. I soak up every ounce of love I feel from those rain drops before staring up, blinking through the wetness, and saying to the boy who believed I was a hero, “I see you, Bennett Brannon, and I can feel you, too.”
Have you ever had a moment where you feel like you’re in a dream?
I remember my mom calling me when Bennett died, the indifference as she told me what had happened, like she was talking about the weather or one of Dad’s new companies, not that my only brother was killed overseas, his remains coming back on a plane the following week.
I don’t remember feeling the pain until I laid down that same night and tried Skyping him. He needed to know that our mother had officially lost it … but he never answered. His account was later shut down, and I remember the tears that turned into hysterics.
The silence was horrific, but being alone was the worst.
Not even Jess could soothe me. Alcohol. Doughnuts. You name it, and I tried it. Nothing relieved the overwhelming feeling of being all alone in the world. I lost my brother and my entire family with him. After we buried Bennett, my parents didn’t check to see if I was in need of support. Oh no. My mother had a new audience to coddle when she realized she could open a charity in his memory.
I was an orphan. Abandoned in a world I no longer loved.
Until I found cooking.
And then Cade.
Suddenly, the void I was feeding dried up. Hope bloomed, and so did I.
To make a long story short, I’ve only ever felt like I’ve been in a dream once.
Today makes twice.
I turn in front of the mirror. The strapless crimson dress clings to my breasts, the incredible bra Anniston bought me pushing my girls skyward, convincing any man that I have way more than I’m working with. The tulle skirt flares at my waist, and I feel like a real-life princess. My hair is styled into a classic updo, and my makeup looks like I’ve never seen a day of sun in my life.
I’m not being a conceited bitch when I say I look fucking hot tonight.
Luckily Anniston has great taste and bought this without me since Cade and I never made it to the dress shop. It’s been five days since Cade confessed. After the night in the rain, I dragged my soaked body back into the house and cried into Sue’s lap for a couple of hours, accepting not one, but two pieces of pound cake before returning all of my messages.
Luckily Jess had calmed down, locating Mason’s number somehow, and he bravely talked her down. She said she’s saving it in case this happens again, but I know her and she’s saving his number for R-rated reasons.
My text to Milos was filled with crying emojis, and being the gentleman he is, he changed the subject and talked about the new Infinity Wars movie we are both excited to see.
I saved Cade for last, knowing our conversation would take longer. He asked if I ever wanted to see him again, and duh. I totally did. It was awkward, but then he asked if we could watch a movie together over the phone. I obviously went for Thor, the first one. Cade had never seen it, and well, I needed some Chris to perk me up. We found ourselves discussing strategy, Cade letting his military training bleed through. He was so cute trying to figure out how Thor didn’t realize his brother was betraying him. He seemed genuinely upset. When it was over, a heavy silence fell around us and I told him I needed to go. I had a review to write.
He just went for it with no hesitation, no embarrassment.
“Can I listen to you type it?” I melted. I could barely complete my review, but I did, knowing he needed the rest after the day he’d had.
We’ve talked every night on the phone since then, ending with him listening to my keystrokes every night. Today will be the second time I’ve seen him in the flesh since he told me about what happened to his team. I brought some pies—and jelly—over yesterday, and he kissed me goodbye, but otherwise we’ve been hands—and eyes—off, starting over like teenagers, getting to know each other over the phone.
A soft knock comes from outside the door, and I know it’s him waiting on the other side.
“Are you ready?” I say to the woman in the mirror. She is going to slay tonight. I blow myself a kiss. One, because I’m lame, and two, because I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do right now.
“Can I come in?” Cade asks. I’m only a wee bit nervous at him seeing me in the gown after our detox from each other. Anniston said he was going to be a walking erection all night. I may have fallen in love with her a little.
With one more quick inspection, and the deepest breath I can manage in this tight dress, I go to the door and pull it open.
“I’m sorry I was taking so long,” I tell him, looking down at his shoes. I don’t know why I started there. Maybe seeing him in a tux would be too much for these sheer panties. Or maybe it’s because I’m a chicken.
We’ll never know because Cade’s finger slides under my chin and lifts it slowly until we’re eye to eye. He swallows, his gaze lazy as it roams over every inch of me. “You look stunning.” The flush spreading across his neck tells me he thinks I’m more than just stunning. His gaze is that of a starving man who just found a buffet. He wants to devour me.
And let me admit, before you think I’m some kind of badass, I want to eat him up too.
This man in a tux is deadly.
Why is he deadly?
Because I may cut a bitch if she puts her hands on him.
This man. This aggravating man, is all mine tonight, and I plan on wrecking him.
“You look like a stripper,” I blurt out.
I never said I
was good at dirty talk.
Cade laughs. “A stripper?” He looks down his front, probably checking for a thong hanging out of his pocket or something.
“I just mean, you look like a wet dream.”
That really makes him laugh. He tugs me closer, his arm slipping around my waist, his hand palming my ass. “Are you saying you have wet dreams about me, Brecklyn?”
There he goes again with calling me by my full name.
I pull back and make a show of rolling my eyes. “I didn’t say my wet dream. Just someone’s.”
“Uh huh.” He chuckles, pulling me in closer so his face is in my neck. “Keep telling yourself that.” The air from his breath tickles the back of my neck, and I shiver.
“You’re being overconfident again,” I remind him.
His tongue is suddenly against my neck, sucking, tasting when he hums, “And you’re being fucking tempting again.”
“Damn it.” Theo’s raised voice pulls Cade’s head up, and the heat on my face is now from more than Cade’s incredible tongue. “Anniston, put condoms in your purse. We’ll need to be the responsible ones tonight.”
Cade chuckles when Theo scowls like we ruined his fucking night. “That’s right, Von Bremen. You owe me for all the times I’ve covered for you,” Cade jokes over the top of my head before separating, placing a soft kiss on my cheek, and asking, “Are you ready to go?”
I nod, and Theo makes a pained noise, leading us down the stairs where Anniston is waiting, looking like Holiday Barbie. “B! You look stunning. A beautiful siren.” She winks at Cade and says, “Better hurry and put her in the car. The guys won’t hesitate to whack off to the image of her in this dress.”
I freeze, Anniston’s comment too similar to the one Cade said to me through the computer all those years ago. Holding my breath, I wait for Cade to put it all together and shove me away, but when he laughs over the top of my head, squeezing my hip firmly, I realize I’m just being paranoid. And probably guilty. Maybe I can tell him after the gala tonight. There’s no sense in ruining his evening now.
“I think you might be right, Commander.” The man who asked me a zillion questions on the phone over the past five days, getting to know me in every way possible, agrees with his commander’s assessment. Gently, he nudges my hip in the direction of the front door. “We should be going before we’re late.”
Three hours into the gala and I’ve concluded that I never want to do this again. It reminds me of my parents’ stuffy garden parties. Okay, saying it’s stuffy is rude. Most of the people are nice. I’ve only encountered a couple of assholes who obviously have more money than sense and need a tax write-off before the year’s end. They can go fuck themselves. Even Cade groaned before having to speak with them.
The highlight of the event has been hanging back with Theo while Anniston and Cade work the room, making connections and selling their mission statement. Theo, although rich himself, has a distinct dislike for most of the people and their plus-ones.
“The woman to your right spends her afternoons in ‘book club’ which we all know is really the woman to your left’s cunt,” he says flatly, downing the last of his champagne. I haven’t been drinking since the fiasco with Hayes, but Theo seems to be having more fun with less of a filter after downing a couple glasses.
“Are you saying they are having an affair with each other?” I don’t know why it seems so scandalous, but I was fully prepared that he was going to say with another man. “Yup. The First Wives’ Club of Madison.”
“No way do they call it that,” I argue. Theo shrugs, his line of sight moving from the dainty thirty-ish woman to Anniston. She and Cade are talking to a couple men dressed in tuxes like all the rest. Their body language is comfortable, laughing at something one of the suits has said. I watch Cade scratch a spot along his scruff, nodding as if he’s fully invested in the conversation. Anniston’s simple black gown pools at her feet, and her voice carries toward us when she laughs. She takes a step back, nearly falling over her dress. Cade snags her elbow and she flashes him a smile of thanks, leaving her hand tucked there. It’s a simple move. It’s kind—chivalrous even. But this nasty taste creeps into my mouth, making me frown while my eyes narrow at the two beautiful people in front of me.
I chance a look at Theo. He’s not showing any outward signs of jealousy. Having him storm through the two men and yank his wife off my man is not asking too much, is it?
I ask him the question I really need the answer to. “How do you deal with it?”
His stare never leaves Anniston when he responds, “How do I deal with what?”
Ugh. Why couldn’t he have known what I was talking about? Having to spell it out is awkward. And sad. But I’ve already opened my big mouth, so I may as well get what I need.
I fumble with the bracelet on my wrist, sliding it up and down my arm. “How do you deal with their relationship … their love?”
This time he does look at me, and it’s the strangest expression I’ve ever seen on his face. He’s not offended or pissed, or about to cuss me out in front of hundreds of people. Instead, his cheek twitches and the hint of a smile emerges. “Is Cade’s jelly girl jealous?”
Yes. But I’m not about to own it at this moment. I shrug like maybe I give a fuck about Cade. A little.
Theo’s chuckle is low and laced with amusement. “I’m going to be real with you, okay?”
I nod. I can handle real.
“At first it bothered me.”
Thank you. I knew it had to.
“I hated Cade.” He glances at the two still locked in conversation. “Even now, good friends as we are, I still think mine and Anniston’s relationship would be easier without having to share her attention with five other guys. But how shitty of me to demand she leave them just because I get a little insecure occasionally.” He shrugs like admitting this is awkward to him.
“Do you ever think one day she may wake up and realize she and Cade are more than just friends?”
There’s a pregnant pause before Theo answers. “Sure. But isn’t that the risk you take in any relationship? Maybe she falls in love with the bag boy in the checkout line? Or, maybe she decides that she wants Martha’s killer cunt?” I laugh. “The thing is, relationships aren’t guaranteed. It’s up to each one of us to fight to keep what we have alive. Cade may be a pain in my ass, but he’s part of what makes Anniston so incredible. Before Cade, she wasn’t the girl who fought for what she wanted. She followed me from game to game, unhappy. She wasn’t the bright and vibrant woman I see today.” He sighs, taking a moment before he continues, “I guess what I’m saying is, the Cade you know now is not the Cade from nearly two years ago. Would you have loved him at his lowest? At his filthiest?”
I interrupt because I know the answer. “Yes, I’d like to think I would have.”
Theo nods his head slowly like he’s just getting to know the real me. He lets out an amused breath. “You know what? I actually believe you would have.”
I feel a smile tug at my lips. Hell yeah, I would have. I gave up my life for him. I’ve watched him for a year, praying to see the Cade my brother spoke of, waiting for him to notice me again. I can’t be sure I would have been able to pull him back from the brink of death like Anniston did when she found him. She is a doctor after all. But even if I could have handled the mental and physical issues he had back then, I don’t know that I would have pushed him like Anniston did, commanding him when he wanted to give up.
I’d like to think I would have, but I’m not positive.
I’m grateful to Anniston for saving Cade’s life when no one was there for him, but it’s hard to digest their relationship. I think Theo’s point is simple, though. Cade is who he is because of Anniston and vice versa. Who are we to ask them to give up something so precious just because we get jealous?
“Has it gotten easier for you?” I ask him. His lip pokes out in thought, his eyes becoming brighter as he catches movement from Cade and Anniston. Anniston is stroki
ng Cade’s upper arm, her playful eyes locked on Theo. She’s fucking with him. I look at Cade, and he’s grinning, too. Apparently, they’re bored with the conversation and have decided to play, ‘Let’s see how pissed we can make Theo.’ But Theo doesn’t look pissed. He looks the opposite—eager, bouncing on his heels like he’s ready to sprint in their direction. A man in a suit steps in front of him, blocking his view, and I swear he growls beside me.
Theo snags another glass of champagne from the waiter as he passes, downing it in one gulp. “Look, B,” he drawls, taking a step behind me. “You and I have something that Cade and Anniston don’t.” His breath dances along my bare shoulder, the muscles along my neck tensing under the warmth.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, a little breathless. I’m naïve, I’ll admit, but this conversation took a wild turn and I’m not sure how to handle it.
Theo rumbles out low laughter. “Trust me, B. Let me show you what we have that they don’t.”
I stare back at Cade whose smile is waning with Theo’s head bent at my shoulder. Anniston’s bright blue eyes are narrowed, too, and it seems their stroking has stopped altogether.
Huh. “Okay,” I tell Theo, eager now to see what he’s about to do. “Show me.”
He huffs out a, “Good girl,” in my ear, dragging his fingers up my bare arm, stopping as he reaches the curve of my neck. “Watch his face.” I don’t need for him to tell me that he means Cade because that’s the only person I’m watching.
Replacing his finger, Theo blows along my neck, inadvertently creating chills. “Do you see it?” he whispers. I chance another look at Cade. His jaw is clenched, the muscles in his neck straining.
“What am I looking for?” I ask Theo.
He chuckles. “For the moment when he realizes he now has a weakness.”
I catalog every movement Cade makes as he grips Anniston’s arm. He’s not paying attention to the guy in front of him, or Anniston, even. He’s watching Theo.
And me.
Those dark eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips have thinned into a tight line.