“What’s not nice?”
“Him saying she’s not a beauty.”
“Beauty comes in many forms.” It wasn’t quite the answer she would have expected from a guy whose dating roster could form its own beauty pageant. “Plus,” he added, “I believe he later says the roads are haunted by all the guys she sent away.”
They swayed in silence for a few moments while Rebecca debated whether she should hint at what she wanted or if she should just come right out and say it. She decided to try subtlety first. She dropped one arm, smoothing her palm over Brody’s pecs, before sliding it around his waist. By the time Mary had tossed her graduation gown at some poor guy’s feet, Rebecca had slipped her hand into the back pocket of Brody’s jeans.
He leaned back to look her in the eye. “How much have you had to drink?”
Okay, so maybe not as subtle as she thought.
“Just three tiny little glasses of whiskey.” She held up her free hand with her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Very tiny.”
His brows shot up. “You’ve done three shots of whiskey?”
She nodded, then remembered swiping Cassie’s glass. “Actually, make that four.”
“Four?”
“Plus the one we did at the bar.” Why had they stopped dancing?
Conor returned with a glass of ice water. “Thank you, Conor.” She smiled at him over the rim of the glass, then drained it.
“Now what?” she asked after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Now, we go home.”
Home. Home with Brody. Sex with Brody. “Yes, please,” she said, then gasped as the opening bars of a song caught her attention. “Oh, I love this song!” She held up a nonexistent microphone and sang along with Tom Petty. “She’s a good girl…” There were a few lines she missed, but she was back in sync with Tom by the time the girl loved horses and her boyfriend too.
Rebecca stopped singing. “Actually…after today, I think I do love horses.”
“Glad to hear it,” Brody said. Judging by the smile on his face, he was very glad.
“Now I’m freeeeeeeeee…”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to his side. And then they were moving.
Rebecca looked up at him. “You smell nice.” She drew a deep breath through her nose. “Like…like…being in a log cabin with the snow piling up outside.”
She felt his chuckle more than she heard it. “Not quite sure what that smells like, but thanks. I think.”
“It smells good,” she assured him. Then a brilliant idea popped into her head. “You should have that Maggie lady book you a cologne commercial. Sort of like the one with the guy on the motorcycle, except you could be in an old pickup truck.”
“I’ll call her first thing tomorrow.”
“I loooooved driving that truck,” she said, then whispered, “Don’t tell Daisy, but I might have liked driving the truck more than riding.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Another thought popped into her head. “Do you know what?”
“What?” Brody asked. They were on the bridge. When had that happened?
“The truck is red,” she told him as if this was news.
“I know.”
“You know what else is red?” She leaned in to share the top-secret information. “My new bra.” She reached for the hem of her shirt. “Wanna see?”
Brody wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Let’s leave your top where it is for now.”
“Oooooh, riiiight,” she whispered. “Better to give you a private show.” She looked up at him. “I need to tell you something.”
He banded an arm around her waist. “Whatever it is, I think it’s better if you tell me in the morning.”
“No.” She spun to face him, stopping him with a hand to his chest. A thought occurred to her and she laughed. “Looks those like line guys aren’t so tough. I stopped the quarterback with just my hand.”
Brody smiled as he steered her across the ocean. Since when was there an ocean in Chicago? “I’ll see if I can get you a tryout with the team.”
“Excellent idea,” she said. She started to laugh, but a burp bubbled out of her instead.
“But first, let’s get you to bed.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” Rebecca turned to face him again, but then she looked down through the metal grate at their feet to the current of water rushing below. It felt like she was on a boat. Rolling…rolling…rolling… “Brody,” she began. “I…I …”
He slipped a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “You what?” he asked. His voice was quiet, or the water was loud, she couldn’t say for sure.
“I…I need to throw up.” The words had barely left her mouth when the contents of her stomach followed. All over Brody’s shoes.
Chapter Nineteen
Rebecca reached for her phone. She couldn’t open her eyes yet, but the warm sun burning through her closed eyelids told her she’d already overslept. There were at least a hundred things on her to-do list, all of which required getting out of bed, which she would have already done if it weren’t for the drum solo currently thumping behind her eyeballs. Hopefully she hadn’t lost too much of the day.
She groped around on the nightstand, but instead of a cell phone, all she found was a TV remote. TV remote? Rebecca didn’t have a television in her bedroom, so why was there…
Her eyes sprang open, then squeezed shut against the bright light streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. She didn’t have big windows like that either. And her view was of a brick wall, not a wall of clouds.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She started to sit up, but since her brain lagged behind, decided it was best to lie back down. Her entire body hurt. How was that even possible? Her head? Okay fine, that she understood. But how the hell had whiskey made her kneecaps hurt?
One eye opened. Modern furniture, wall sconces, a king-size bed. Yep, definitely not her apartment.
She pressed her palm to her throbbing forehead. The last thing she remembered was stealing Cassie’s shot after downing the two Olivia had ordered for her. She tried to think back, to remember what had happened, but the best she could come up with were a few grainy images that played through her mind like one of those old 8 mm movies. A sidewalk coming closer, knees scraping concrete, strong arms hoisting her against a broad chest. At least she knew why her knees hurt.
She sat up again, slowly this time, and when she did, the sheet pooled at her waist, revealing her red lace bra. Where were her clothes? Her gaze darted around the room before settling on the phone on the nightstand next to the remote. It wasn’t a cell phone, but rather the kind you plug into the wall. The kind with buttons for room service and a bellman. She was in a hotel? Holy fuck…who had she…
“Morning,” Brody said from the doorway. A lazy grin spread across his face. “How do you feel?”
Her throat was scratchy, and her tongue felt as if it was covered in fur. “Like I swallowed a cat.” She grabbed a fistful of the soft sheet and tugged it up under her armpits as though it were a strapless gown.
He laughed, although she wasn’t quite sure if his amusement was with her makeshift dress or her comment about the cat. “Here,” he said, handing her two aspirin and a small bottle of the sports drink from the commercial she’d seen a few weeks ago. She swallowed the pills with a sip of the drink, then took a second sip that was more of a gulp.
“Don’t drink it too fast.”
She lowered the bottle to find him watching her, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe. There was still a smile on his face, but most of what she saw was…concern? pity? disgust?
“Want to make sure you can keep it down before you chug.”
His words set off a flood of images, all of which involved vomit. A cold mist of sweat formed on Rebecca’s brow. At least she’d solved the mystery of the look on his face. Disgust, definitely disgust.
“I think I’
m the only person in history to get seasick on land.”
He chuckled. “I think it had more to do with the whiskey than the river.”
Just the mention of the “w” word had saliva pooling in the back of her throat. Time to change the subject before the dry heaves began. “Um, where are my clothes?”
“In the living room. I had the hotel clean them for you.” He winced. “They were a little—”
She covered her mouth with one hand while holding up the other. “Got it.” She assumed she knew the answer to her next question, but she asked it anyway. “So…did you undress me?” Not that she’d been opposed to the idea of Brody removing her clothes, but that wasn’t exactly how she had pictured it happening.
“No, uh, you did that.”
More images flooded her head, and these came with audio. Want to see my sexy red bra? And sweet Jesus, had she really told him she’d bought it just for him?
“I need to…” She motioned toward the open bathroom door. “Do you mind?”
He pushed away from the wall. “Oh, sure. I’ll grab your clothes and leave them on the bed.”
She waited until he was out of sight before wrapping herself up like a burrito and waddling to the bathroom. When she saw her reflection, she gasped. With her hair standing straight up, her mascara streaked under her eyes and—she gagged—a clump of dried spit in the corner of her mouth, she looked like a cross between Heat Miser and a rabid raccoon.
Rebecca washed her face with cold water then waited until she heard Brody come back with her clothes. As soon as he left, she scurried into the room to get dressed. He’d placed her purse on the bed next to the dry cleaning, and after dressing, she dug into it for a breath mint and her phone. The screen was full of text messages from Olivia and Cassie, ranging from How did it go? and Are you getting some? before ending with a teasing yet concerned Let us know you’re alive :)
She opened their group chat and fired off a short reply that let them know she was okay, but in desperate need of their help. Her friends didn’t let her down. In fifteen minutes, they would convene at their favorite diner.
Now all she had to do was get out of there.
Olivia and Cassie were waiting for her when she arrived. They even had the good table in the back, the one in the corner, but not the corner next to the bathroom. Although the way Rebecca was feeling, easy access to the bathroom might not have been such a bad thing.
“What happened?” Cassie asked the minute Rebecca slumped into the empty chair.
She lowered the sunglasses she’d used to keep her retinas from melting. “I have to move and change my name.”
Olivia laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”
The waitress set a cup of mint tea in front of Olivia then filled two ceramic mugs with coffee. Even her yellow polyester uniform seemed too bright for Rebecca, prompting her to slide the sunglasses back into place. When she was done, the woman set the pot on the table and slipped a notepad and pen out of her apron. “You gals know what you want?”
Rebecca opened one of the plastic-encased menus, then quickly snapped it shut. Even pictures of food were making her stomach roll.
“I’ll have the western omelet, with egg whites only please,” Cassie said. “And turkey sausage instead of hash browns.” It wasn’t her usual order, something Rebecca suspected was directly related to the wedding dress fitting she’d mention the previous night.
“Pancakes for me,” Olivia said. “I’ll take the hash browns, well done, and a side of wheat toast.” She started to hand the waitress her menu, then paused. “On second thought, make it a side of French toast. With grape jelly.” It wasn’t her usual order either, something Rebecca suspected was directly related to the cravings she’d mentioned the previous night.
Cassie gaped at her.
“What can I say?” Olivia shrugged. “The bambino wants what the bambino wants.”
The waitress scribbled the order across the notepad, then looked over the rim of her glasses at Rebecca. They were the kind that hung from a chain around her neck, and all at once Rebecca felt like the woman was writing her a note for afternoon detention. Not that she’d ever gotten a detention when she was in school. But if she had, this was exactly how she imagined it would feel. Headache, cold sweats, and shame. Everything except the vomiting—although to be fair, that might have happened then as well. “And for you, hun?”
Olivia ordered for her. “She’ll take two fried eggs, an order of sourdough toast, hash browns, and a large Coke.” Rebecca wanted to tell her she was crazy, but she had to admit, some of it actually sounded pretty good. “Trust me,” she said. “What you need right now is grease, carbs, and caffeine.”
Her friends waited until the waitress had left the table to continue the interrogation.
“Start from the beginning,” Cassie said.
Olivia leaned closer. “And don’t leave out a single sexy detail.”
“There aren’t any sexy details,” Rebecca said.
“What?” Olivia asked. “After the way he was looking at you?”
“Did you let him know you were interested in moving out of the friend zone?” Cassie asked.
“Yes and yes,” Rebecca answered.
“Are you sure?” they asked in unison.
Rebecca’s shoulders sagged. “Well, I’m pretty sure he got the message when I told him I bought a—what was it you called it?—oh yeah, a fuck-me-red bra.” Another memory resurfaced. “Oh God.”
Olivia paused with her cup of tea in midair. “What?”
“I just remembered…no, I can’t.” She was too embarrassed to admit it, even to them.
“It can’t be that bad,” Cassie said.
Rebecca dropped her head to the table. The cold Formica top felt good against her forehead. Maybe she’d just spend the rest of the day in the diner. Or even the week.
“I danced on his coffee table,” she said without looking up.
Cassie placed her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “That’s not so—”
“In my bra.”
“Oh.”
“Yep.” She sat up. “Right before I told him we should sleep together, something that I’m sure sounded enticing after he watched me vomit all over his shoes.” Her shoulders slumped. “Basically, I threw myself at him, right after I threw up on him. I’d say I’m killing this seduction thing, wouldn’t you?” She dropped her head back to the table.
“Sweet hell,” Olivia said. “I’m sorry, Becs. I feel like this is all my fault. I never should have ordered you two shots before I left.”
“Three,” Rebecca told the Formica.
“She had mine too,” Cassie said.
“Oh man,” Olivia said on a sigh.
“Yep.”
“Maybe he was just too much of a gentleman to sleep with someone so intoxicated?” Cassie offered.
Rebecca looked up. “Maybe last night, but there have been plenty of opportunities for him to make his move. Face it, I’m nothing more than his buddy.”
“Well, forget him,” Olivia said. “There are three million people in Chicago, and one of them will be perfect for you.”
But Rebecca didn’t want anyone else. She wanted Brody. Something that was apparently written all over her face.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Cassie said. Her voice was gentle, but the thought of the best thing for Rebecca being a life without Brody still stung. “You guys have spent so much time together, if you’d slept with him after such a dry spell—”
“Drought,” Olivia corrected.
“My point is—” Cassie cut Olivia a look “—it might have been hard not to fall for him.”
“Too late,” Rebecca said. Her words came out in a whisper, but her friends got the message loud and clear. “Like I said, it’s time to move and change my name.”
Her cell phone rang, and she jumped. Had the damn thing always been so loud?
“It’s him.” She stared at the screen, unable to move. “What do I do?”
“Don’
t answer it,” Olivia said at the same time Cassie told her to do the opposite.
The call rolled to voice mail, making the decision for her. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, but not a second later, the ringing started again.
“He probably wants to make sure you’re all right,” Cassie said.
Rebecca looked at the phone and then to Olivia.
“Answer it,” Olivia said, “But be your normal perky self.”
She wasn’t sure she could pull off perky, but she could at least try for better than she felt. “Hi there! Sorry I missed your first call,” she said, offering an unnecessary excuse. “Just having brunch with the girls, and I guess we were laughing too loud for me to hear it.” Right, because that didn’t sound fake or forced.
“No problem,” Brody said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice was much too high. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Feel great actually.”
“Not still sick?”
“Nope. Just about to have brunch.”
As if on cue, the waitress approached with an armload of plates. “And actually, the food just arrived so…”
“Gotta get it while it’s hot, right?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “But hey, before you go, since you’re feeling better and all, want to go for a run later?”
“Not sure I feel that much better.” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out all wrong.
“Maybe just a movie or something, then?” Normally, she would have said yes in a heartbeat. But that was before last night. In the light of the new day, everything that once had seemed so natural now seemed off.
“I think I’m just going to hang out with the girls,” she said. Then for reasons she couldn’t even process herself at the moment added, “But I will see you at the party.”
There was a long pause. She knew why. They usually hung out every day. It was only Sunday, and she was telling him she’d see him on Saturday. He had to know something was wrong. Heck, even Cassie and Olivia looked surprised by what she’d said. But instead of calling her out, he let the silence stretch.
Save the Date (Wild Wedding Series Book 3) Page 19