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The Girl With Hearts (Midtown Brotherhood #1)

Page 16

by Savannah Blevins


  Drew nodded, looking away to wipe the single tear from his cheek.

  “Hey, where did you go?” Leila called out from inside.

  Drew still looked pale, so Henrik did his best to reassure him. “I’ll take care of it.”

  They went back inside, and Drew did his best to look normal before excusing himself to his room. Henrik took his place back on the couch, and Leila joined him. “What’s wrong with Drew?” she asked. “He’s been acting weird all day.”

  He shrugged, playing it off. “I don’t know, maybe he’s upset that you won’t let me see your dress.”

  Leila rolled her eyes. “It’s just a dress, Henrik.”

  “Right now, but when you put it on, it’s a torture device.”

  “I’m not even going to ask about what exactly I’m torturing,” she said with a laugh.

  He smiled over at her. “So, what do you want to do tonight, since I’m obviously not going to get a preview of tomorrow’s top secret look?”

  She shrugged, yawning. “Stay in, I guess. I’m pretty tired.”

  Something tugged at him from the inside, and it hurt. “You’ve been getting tired a lot lately.”

  She shot him a warning look. “You keep saying that.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you ever been shopping with Drew?” she asked, a little more defensive than the situation required. “It’s exhausting.”

  “Actually, I have, and yes, you’re right,” he joked back, but it didn’t go unnoticed that she avoided the question. “We can stay in. I don’t mind.”

  She nodded curtly and relaxed into the couch. “Want to watch a movie?”

  He knew he needed to let it go for now, but soon he’d have to convince her to talk about it. If not for him, for Drew’s sanity, at least.

  “Depends.” He smiled, flipping the remote over in his hand. “Does it include cuddling?”

  “Cuddling?” She snorted while taking a black wristband and tying her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. “Seriously?”

  “What? You don’t cuddle?”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “I didn’t think it would be your type of thing.”

  He scowled at her before reaching over and pulling her to him. “Oh, yeah. Hugging up to a beautiful woman sounds horrible.”

  She laughed. “You know what I mean. Cuddling is—”

  “Intimate?”

  He held her stare for a moment, the unspoken sentiment loud between them. He started to speak, only to be interrupted when Drew reentered the room. “Hey, I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back by midnight, probably.”

  He turned, and for the first time, Drew didn’t scowl at the sight of him being so close to Leila, even though he had his arms wrapped entirely around her waist. Instead, he smiled.

  There was something definitely wrong with him.

  “Wait a second,” he said, letting go of Leila to sit up straight. He studied Drew, his once red eyes almost back to normal. “You’re going out, looking like that?”

  Drew looked down at his skinny jeans and sneakers, confused. “Yeah? What’s wrong with it?”

  “No one, especially you, wears sneakers to a club. And what kind of shirt is that, anyway?” He scooted to the edge of the couch, eyeing his brother skeptically. “Vancouver Giants? Really?”

  “What’s wrong with the Vancouver Giants?”

  “They’re a hockey team. You don’t wear hockey stuff.”

  “I wear your Rangers stuff all the time. Have you seen the number of jerseys in my closet?”

  “Yeah. That’s the point. You wear my Rangers stuff, because I give it to you. I’ve never played hockey for the Giants.”

  “What are you trying to accuse him of, exactly?” Leila asked, smiling between the two of them.

  “He’s not going out,” he said with certainty. “He’s going somewhere specific, and he’s not telling us.”

  That brought Drew up short. He looked at Leila and then back to Henrik. “Look, just because your social life has been put on indefinite hold doesn’t mean you have to start nosing around in mine.”

  Henrik shot an accusing glare at his brother. “You’re going out to meet someone, aren’t you?”

  Drew clenched his teeth and sighed. “Something like that. I just need to get out of the house for a while. I thought, considering the PDA-fest going on in here, you wouldn’t mind.”

  Henrik’s mouth fell open. “Do you have a boyfriend you’re not telling me about?”

  “For a while now,” Leila informed him with a chuckle. “We’re not allowed to meet him, so don’t bother asking about it.”

  “The hell we’re not allowed to meet him. Who is he?”

  Drew crossed his arms over his chest. “Thanks a lot, Leila. I thought you were done being a blabbermouth.”

  “He already figured it out.” She laughed, walking over to hug her best friend. “And you promised I could be here, remember?”

  “Answer the question, Drew. Why can’t I meet him?”

  “Because,” he said roughly, grabbing a jacket off the rack next to the door.

  “That’s not an acceptable answer.”

  “Well, we don’t all get what we want in life. Obviously, considering I am voluntarily leaving you two here alone. Consider it a compromise. I’ll stay out of your business, and you stay out of mine.”

  He swung his jacket over his shoulders and headed toward the door. Henrik jumped up from the couch to follow him. “You say that like I’d try and screw up your relationship or something. I just want to know who my brother is spending his time on.”

  Drew held the door open and smiled back at his brother. “One day,” he promised. “But not tonight. That was his decision, not mine.”

  Drew closed the door, leaving Henrik stunned, staring at it. He turned around to face Leila, his nose scrunched up. “Did he just imply his boyfriend doesn’t want to meet me?”

  She placed a consoling hand on his forearm. “Well, you can be intimidating.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Give him a break. You are the most important person in your brother’s life. Meeting you is equivalent to meeting his parents. It’s a big deal.”

  He looked back at the door, as if somehow hoping it would magically reopen and Drew would invite them out with him. “I just want to be involved,” he admitted. “I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, the reason I know about him is because I intentionally snoop on his phone conversations.”

  “Seriously?”

  “The kid has good game.”

  “Of course.” He grinned proudly. “He’s a Rylander.”

  She smiled before making her way back to the couch, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. “No, none of that,” he instructed, scooting in beside her.

  He pulled her closer, thrilled when she willingly allowed him to wrap his arms around her again. She leaned into his body and placed her head delicately on his shoulder. He smiled when she began to hum contentedly. Her big green eyes rose to meet his. “What?” he asked. “You look like you want to ask me something.”

  “Are you really okay with this?”

  “Cuddling? Definitely. I say we make this like a nightly routine.”

  “No.” She smiled. “I mean our situation. Is our arrangement still working out for you?”

  “It’s barely been a week,” he said, laughing. “Geez. Give me a little bit of credit.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just wanted to tell you that if you change your mind, ever, if you could just be honest and tell me instead of—”

  “I’m not Derek.” He pulled her back so he could see her face flushed with embarrassment. It was time he said it, because he wanted her to know. “You have my word on that.”

  She nodded, snuggling into his shirt. “Thank you.”

  It was quiet as they got comfortable, and the beginning credits of the movie began. “Leila,” he whispered in her
ear.

  She looked up.

  “Can I ask you for something without you getting too upset?”

  “Too upset?” She leaned back, wary.

  “Can you stop sleeping in Drew’s bed?”

  She snorted and lay back down.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “I know.” The corner of her mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I haven’t slept in his bed since our talk. I thought he told you.”

  “It must have slipped his mind,” he growled.

  She sniggered, yawning again. “That sounds like him.”

  He cuddled in close to her, feeling better already. It didn’t take Leila long to drift off to sleep. He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. Her eyes opened as he settled her down on the bed. “You’re leaving?” she whispered, smiling into her pillow.

  “I wouldn’t want to fail my first room check.” He didn’t want to leave. Drew’s words still haunted him, but he knew better than to push his luck. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our date.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were already closed again. He let himself out and went back to his apartment alone.

  At three a.m., Henrik woke up to find Austin standing over him, drunkenly patting him on top of the head. “Good friend,” he said, giving him another not-so-gentle pat, “you’re a good friend.”

  Henrik dragged himself out of bed and led a stumbling Austin down the hall, knowing he didn’t deserve his friend’s praise.

  He was a shitty friend, but he was working on it.

  Chapter 20

  HENRIK’S RESCUE

  “Is everything all right in there?”

  The bathroom was deathly quiet. They had little less than an hour to make it to the event on time. Not that Henrik usually worried about that sort of thing, but he didn’t want to miss a minute of his first date with Leila. Anxiety bit at him. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours planning out their perfect evening, but he couldn’t wine and dine himself into her heart if he couldn’t get her out of the damn bathroom.

  “No,” she snapped from the other side, her voice breaking up an octave. “Everything is definitely not all right.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This stupid dress doesn’t fit!”

  He imagined her trying to squeeze into a dress, her adorable face wrinkled in frustration. He had the urge to jerk the door open to see for himself, but knew better. Drew had confiscated the bathroom at her apartment, so he’d volunteered his in relief. He had no idea that taking a shower and putting on a dress could be such a dramatic experience.

  He was exhausted already.

  “Didn’t you try it on in the store?”

  The door flung open, revealing just enough of her face to see the deadly warning in her eyes. Then she slammed it back shut. He sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. It wasn’t the way he envisioned the night starting out. “Okay, I realize that was obviously the wrong thing to say. Allow me to try again.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound as optimistic as possible. “Let me have a look. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

  The door eased open again, revealing the same small portion of her face. She wasn’t angry. In fact, she looked positively defeated. “It’s bad,” she mumbled, obviously upset by the fact.

  “Let me see,” he encouraged, easing the door further open. She stepped back just enough to reveal the slinky, steel gray dress that melted over her figure as if it had been painted on by hand.

  “Oh, hell no.”

  Her face immediately scrunched up, her lips forming an almost perfect pout. “It’s that bad?”

  He blinked his eyes a couple times, oblivious to what she’d asked him. Things would go wrong with her in that dress. He wanted to prove he was in it for more than just a hookup, but right now, with his eyes everywhere but on her face, it was becoming difficult to remember why. “We are taking that thing back to wherever you bought it.”

  Then he would kill Drew for letting her walk out of the store with it.

  “Henrik, be serious.” She wiggled in a poor attempt to keep the top of the dress from falling down. She only made it worse—on him.

  “Trust me,” he swallowed, before taking in a deep breath, “I am serious. You can’t wear that tonight.”

  “I know,” she growled, “because it doesn’t fit.”

  “No,” he argued, “you can’t wear it because I’m going to be half drunk. You already know how I act around you when I’m sober. Can you imagine me intoxicated and you in that dress?”

  He wanted to show her that he could be a gentleman, that he had self-control. He wasn’t Derek.

  She quirked half a smile.

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he told her. “We’re taking it back. C’mon, I know a place downtown. We’ll stop on the way, get a new dress that’ll make Mary Poppins envious, and we’ll both be good to go.”

  He grabbed her hand, practically dragging her out of the door.

  “No, wait,” she urged, resisting his hold on her. “I have to change first.”

  “No, you don’t. Just wear that one until we get there.” He tightened the grip on her hand. “I’m sorta positive I can behave myself until then.”

  “Henrik,” she said coarsely, and then turned around. The dress was completely unzipped down her back, showing a strapless, black lace bra and bare skin all the way down to the matching trim of her panties.

  “Well, shit.”

  He kicked the door shut. Then locked it.

  She gave him a pointed look. “Sorry,” he said absently, his eyes still trained to her backside. “Reflex.”

  “Just get out so I can change. We’re going to be late as it is.”

  He nodded, but made no attempt to change his position. “Go,” she laughed, pushing him out the door.

  “Okay, okay,” he grumbled, making his way out of the room. If he had any hope of convincing Leila he could handle a sex-less relationship, he needed her out of that dress as soon as possible.

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later he was in Amelia Toro, sitting outside a dressing room, waiting as the young attendant helped Leila try on a couple dresses she’d picked out. She’d shoved him into a seat and dared him to move.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall for the third time, and sighed. They were definitely going to be late. They should have been there by now. She should be enjoying her second glass of wine, laughing at his jokes. Austin would send out a search committee if they didn’t get there soon.

  “Hurry it up in there,” he yelled around the corner.

  “Almost finished,” he heard Leila respond, though her voice was strained.

  He got up and paced back and forth along the aisles. He pulled nervously at his stupid bow tie, but it didn’t help. Leila’s phone started to ring. She’d changed the tone to a melodramatic Boys2Men number, and it blasted from inside her purse.

  “Can you get that?” she called. “It’s probably Austin.”

  “Got it,” he yelled back, grabbing the shiny, silver clutch from the floor.

  Except it wasn’t Austin. There was no goofy picture of her brother shoving five hot dogs in his mouth flashing on the screen. There was no picture at all. It was just a number from Newark, New Jersey.

  Derek.

  He jabbed his thumb on the green button, ready to let him have it. He couldn’t believe the asshole still had the nerve to call her. It was too late, though. It went to voicemail. He stood there staring at it, willing the idiot to make the mistake of calling a second time, but the phone remained silent. He didn’t leave a message.

  He shoved the phone back in her purse to keep himself from calling the number back. The asshole was lucky he was on a fucking date.

  A door creaked open, and he spun around as voices circled the corner. The attendant was first with her black on black assemble and Granny Smith bun. She smiled triumphantly at him. “She’s ready,” she announced, moving out of the way to reveal Leila behind her.

  His mouth left its
hinges.

  He forgot about Derek. Austin. The event. Life.

  The dress was midnight black. It wasn’t molded onto her like the other one. Its smooth lines framed her curves instead of clinging to them, but that wasn’t the part that caught his attention. No, this dress had one main attraction, and it centered on the plunging neckline, that in Leila’s case revealed more than his poor libido could handle.

  He opened his mouth to speak, only to realize nothing would come out. So he shut it, and tried again. “I thought we agreed on a more conservative look,” he barely managed the second time.

  She rolled her eyes as she walked toward him. “We don’t have time to argue about it. I’m going to pay out. I’ll meet you at the door.”

  He grabbed her wrist, stopping her as she walked by. He took one more long, mouthwatering look down her body. “No, trust me,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’re going to argue about it.”

  Leila’s eyes darkened, and it only served to heighten his attraction. Instead of pulling away from him as he expected, she took a daring step forward, bringing them practically nose to nose. “Keep this for me, would you?” she whispered evenly in his ear, as if she were talking about a cup of tea they might have later on. “It won’t fit in my purse.” She shoved something into his hand, giving him a wry wink before twirling around to stalk off toward the cashier. “Meet you at the car.”

  Half-dazed by the close encounter, he glanced at his hand to find the black lace bra she’d been wearing earlier. He clenched it into a fist, fighting back the urge to yell some nasty retort back at her. Instead, he turned around, facing the young woman who helped her pick out that torture contraption she was wearing. “If she bitch slaps me tonight,” he informed her curtly, pointing the hand holding the bra at her. “It’s your fault.”

  The girl fought back a smile, but failed.

  Chapter 21

  LEILA’S TRUTH

  Leila smiled to herself as she stepped into the waiting town car outside the boutique. Henrik acted furious about her dress of choice, and she had to admit, it was a bit adventurous. Maybe a little scandalous too. However, it was the only option.

 

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