Twenty-One
I lay in my bed for hours, unable to sleep, thinking about his hands on me, his fingers in my hair, his mouth on my skin as he moved inside of me. His words came back to me. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you. I didn’t question them in the moment, too caught up in the lustful haze to pause and break it, but now I was alone, those words rang louder than everything else I learned about him last night. I’d slept with Nathaniel Bradley, my nemesis of over eleven years. And he’d wanted me. For a long time, if what he said was to believed. But how? We’d only ever bickered. He had thrown more criticism my way over the years than I’d eaten hot dinners, so how was that akin to wanting me? I shook my head. It was too early to work that one out. I looked up as the sun was coming It was moments like these where I cherished taking my dad’s offer to move into this apartment. I let my head thump onto my pillow and closed my eyes once more. I’d really hoped I could avoid today, that maybe by some miracle I could stay in bed and let my life sort itself out. With that thought, I stood up and got ready for the day then headed to my dad’s apartment. I let myself in quietly, careful not to wake him. It was our morning ritual since I moved downstairs: I let myself in, prepared us breakfast, and after we ate, we both went about our day. He played music in the mornings, old songs that reminded him of his youth, of a time when he stood on top of the world. Not that he wasn’t still on top. I looked outside as a reminder. He was still on top, despite what he’d given up. The scenery had changed though, from pretentious yuppies to creative hipsters. No shame in that.
I was setting the coffee to brew when the doorbell rang. My attention flew to the time on the microwave.
“Presley, will you get the door? I’ll be right out,” Dad called out from his room.
“Sure.” I eyed the eggs, the stove, and the toaster before making sure it was safe for me to walk out of the kitchen.
Wiping my hands on the kitchen rag, I walked toward the door and looked through the peephole. I dropped the rag. Nathaniel was standing on the other side of the door wearing a dark navy suit and white button-down, no tie, first button undone as if he’d left his house before he got around to considering wearing one. I bit my lip as I thought about what I’d find if I unbuttoned the rest of that shirt, then righted myself by slapping a palm on my forehead. I can’t think about that right now. I bent to pick up the rag I’d dropped and looked through the peephole one last time before steadying myself to open the door. So what if he’s crazy handsome and insanely good in bed? He was still Nathaniel Bradley, and it was only a matter of time before he said something to piss me off. With that thought, I lifted my chin and pulled the door open. His eyes seemed to burn into me when he saw me on the other side. My heart was pounding so quickly, I felt it everywhere except where it was supposed to be—in my ears, in my throat, roaring through my body. I gripped the door handle and pulled it open wider, so he had room to come inside. He did, stopping when he stood in front of me.
“You left,” he said. “And you changed your number.”
“What?”
“I tried to call you and your old number belongs to Dustin Castro.”
That made me laugh. “You called the wrong number and asked for his name?”
“I got worried you’d either had your phone stolen or that you’d been stolen.”
“So you called because you were worried I’d been kidnapped?”
“No.”
“So then, why would you want to get hold of me?” I licked my lips.
“Give me your number and you’ll find out.” He took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.
I’d managed to avoid giving it to him so far, but I knew I’d cave sooner or later, if not for the brewery, for myself. I knew regardless of how hard I tried to fight that urge, he’d win that battle. Anyway, it was just a phone number. I plucked it from his hand and typed in my number, saving it under the first thing that came to mind. I smiled at the thought of his face when he searched for my name in his contacts as I handed it back to him.
“There. Now you have it.”
“You’re in a good mood today,” he said. “Wonder if I had anything to do with that.”
“You think too highly of yourself.” I turned around and walked ahead of him. He grabbed the end of the rag swinging from my hand and tugged it, effectively stopping me. My pulse spiked as I pivoted around to face him and found his blue eyes on mine, his expression serious. He tugged the rag harder. My feet moved taking one step, then two, closing the gap between us. I tipped my head back and looked at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Last night wasn’t a one-time thing.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Let me take you out.”
“Like on a date?” I whispered, looking around in case my dad sneaked out of his room. The last thing I needed was for him to think there was something going on between Nathaniel and me.
His mouth curved. “Yes.”
“I can’t go on a date with you.” I tugged the rag from his grasp. “Your girlfriend just broke up with you like yesterday and we . . . oh my God. We seriously shouldn’t have done what we did.”
“We fucked, princess. You can say the words.” He raised an eyebrow.
“This isn’t a good time for me to date.”
“Because of your divorce?” His expression was no longer amused.
“Yes. Exactly.” I backed away a step and then another, hoping he didn’t realize I was full of shit.
“We don’t have to call it anything. We don’t need labels.” He stepped forward, bringing a hand to my face. The tenderness in his eyes made it impossible for me to breathe. “It’s time to call a truce, don’t you think? One date.”
“Fine. I’ll agree to one date.” My voice was a whisper, but I wanted to scream it, the way I’d screamed his name last night countless of times. “But we’re not telling my dad about this.”
“That’s fine.” His lips twitched.
I took another step back, away from his grasp, and walked away. My father would never let me live it down if he found out about this, not after all the crap I’d talked about Nathaniel over the years. Jamie would probably say I told you so.
“Do you want coffee? Eggs? I’m making breakfast.” I looked over my shoulder just as Nathaniel was undoing the button of his suit and taking it off.
Flashes of the previous night came back in quick snaps: him taking off his clothes, slowly, then taking mine off, his fingers caressing between my thighs as he slowly dragged my panties down my legs. Oh God.
“Breakfast would be great,” he said, his voice low and husky. My eyes flashed up to meet his and I could see the fire in them. I turned around and focused on beating the eggs. “I didn’t know you cooked, princess.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
My phone rang, interrupting whatever he was about to say. I knew that ring. It was my mother calling me on WhatsApp video. I glanced at the time. It seemed about right that she would call me at this time. She was probably out shopping or having dinner. I turned around, swiped the screen as I picked up the phone and went back to what I was doing. It took a few seconds for her face to clear on the screen.
“Are you making your father breakfast again?” she asked, smiling. “He’s so spoiled.”
“Go back to your picturesque scenery and stop telling our daughter what to do, Wendy,” Dad joked as he walked into the kitchen.
Mom and I laughed. Dad focused his attention on Nathaniel and started talking to him as I poured the eggs in the pan and poured three mugs of coffee.
“I want you to meet someone I’m having lunch with.” She moved the camera to a man sitting beside her. I kept smiling because I had to, but I swore I’d kill my mother for this. “This is Constantine’s nephew, Alexander.”
“Hi, Alexander.” I smiled wide, picking up one of the mugs and turning to place it in front of my father who was sitting beside Nathaniel on the other side of the kitchen island.
“My mom speaks very highly of you.”
“Of you as well. She kept telling me how beautiful you are, but nothing could have prepared me for your smile.”
I felt my cheeks flame. It was such a cheesy line, but in this particular circumstance, I couldn’t fight my blush. I was in front of my father, for Christ’s sake, and a man I’d fucked just hours ago. I picked up the second mug and placed it in front of Nathaniel, taking a chance to glance at his face. He didn’t look amused. At all.
“Careful not to burn the eggs, princess.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back around. I’d set the stove on the lowest of lows. I wouldn’t burn the damn eggs. I picked up the spatula and started jabbing at the eggs, alternating my attention from the pan to the phone.
“So, are you coming to visit?” Alexander asked.
“I hope to. I’m just not sure when. It’s on my to-do list though.”
“Maybe I’ll come to the States and see you one day.”
“That would be nice.” I really wanted this conversation to end like right now.
“I’ll turn you over to your mother. Is it okay if I ask for your phone number? We can keep in touch.”
“Um . . . I guess?”
Behind me, I heard Nathaniel exhale heavily. His annoyed sigh. I shot him a glare over my shoulder. My father was sitting right next to him, on his phone, but right next to him nonetheless. You couldn’t really hide reactions like that.
“Okay sweetie, I see you have your hands full. I’ll call you later.” Mom winked at me. “Love you. Talk to you soon.”
“I will. Bye, Mom.” I set the phone down and started plating our food. Instead of taking the seat on the other side of Nathaniel, I stood across from them.
“Who was that on the phone?” Dad asked. “A new suitor?”
“Hardly.” I scoffed. “You know how Mom is.”
“Well, now that you’re officially divorced you can date whomever you want,” Dad said. “Not that I think dating a man who lives halfway across the world is a smart move.”
“I’m not officially divorced.” I glanced up. I wasn’t. I was almost divorced, but it wasn’t completely over and done with yet. “And I’m not dating anyone.”
Nathaniel scoffed. I glared at him again. Seriously, what was wrong with him?
“Did you read the paper today?”
“Nobody reads the paper anymore, Dad. It’s all online.”
“Well, they took your side,” he said, ignoring my annoyed tone. “They called Adam a cheater and said you were a victim.”
“Doesn’t matter.” My cheeks flamed. I hated being called a victim. I wish the media would save that word for people who actually deserved it. I’d been cheated on and chose to stay in the marriage. I’d hardly call myself a victim.
“They’ve been outside the office this week again,” Dad said.
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve been at the brewery.” I saw Nathaniel’s grin from the corner of my eye and felt my entire face heat up. I turned around, walking to the fridge to hide it, but I was sure he’d noticed.
“Are we still on schedule to open in two weeks?”
“I think so.” I pulled out a bottle of water and walked back. “Ezra is happy with where the beers are at.”
“And the staff?
“Ready when we are.” Thankfully I’d spoken to Jennifer, our staff manager, yesterday. She’d already begun training with the wait staff, all of whom had prior experience. We had three baristas fully appraised in White Oak beers, especially the new guava blend, and each one capable of creating any cocktail off the menu. They were meeting with the chefs on Thursday to sample the meals provided and be better versed in what wines and beers would match which dish.
“So, only final touches?”
“Yup. Nathaniel’s been helping out a lot.”
“I bet he has. He gets a little obsessive when it comes to these things.” Dad smiled, glancing at Nathaniel, who was scowling.
“I don’t get obsessed.”
Dad shrugged, still laughing. “Why don’t you two stay at The Boutique until it’s all done? It’ll speed up the process, and it’s right down the street from the office.”
“I don’t think they’ll have space. There’s a convention across the street next week and the hotel is booked to the max.”
“You can stay at my place,” Nathaniel suggested, his gaze intent on mine. “I have a guest room.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Dad winked at me. “I have meetings here all week and hired a chef to stay, so you won’t have to worry about making me breakfast.”
“I”—I looked between the two of them—“I guess I can stay there a couple of days to save time.”
“Nate’s going to join us on our trip next week. We have too much to catch up on and every time I think we’re going to knock it all out, I go out of town.” He stood up slowly. He looked uncomfortable today.
“Okay.” I agreed even though I did not like the idea of him going anywhere with us. I was supposed to stay at his place and spend the entire weekend with him? Next week’s game was in Boston and we’d opted for a train ride instead of plane to make things more exciting. I’d been excited about it until now. “I’ll see if I can add an extra train ticket.”
“Traveling by train?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at my dad. “I thought you said you’d rather jump out of a plane than ride a train.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.” Dad’s shoulders shook with his laugh. “Presley has never ridden a train. I thought I’d take her.”
Before I die. He didn’t say the words, but I knew he thought them. I could see it in the way his eyes lost the light that was there a second ago. The loss of light threatened to choke me.
“Get the extra tickets and leave them on my desk,” he said as he walked away. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped on the top of the box before opening it. “I’ll be back in five, Nate.”
“I’ll be in your office,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be smoking.” I took off after him, chasing him to the door that led to the rooftop. “Dad. Please.”
“I know, but it makes me happy.” He shrugged, smiling sadly as he pushed the door open. “Can you just let your old man be?”
He closed the door between us before I could respond. I crossed my arms and pressed into it, the weight of my body on my forehead against the cold metal. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. The urge to open the door and run up those steps to argue with him felt like a noose around my neck. Could I just let him be? Did he want me to let him kill himself? Finish the job before whatever was going on in his brain did it for him? My shoulders shook with that thought, a low sob escaping me without permission. I took a deep breath and wiped my face, standing tall. If he was a child, I could handle him. Punish him and send him to his room until he changed his attitude or abided by my demands, but he was my father. I couldn’t make him do anything.
Nathaniel was still in the kitchen, his back pressed against the counter, legs crossed at his ankles. He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscled, tattooed, forearms. I avoided his eyes as I looked at the sink, intending to wash the dishes before I left, but they were all neatly stacked on the drying rack.
“I washed them,” he said, pushing off and walking toward the living room. “I didn’t know where to put them.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“I’ve been trying to get him to quit too you know.”
I sighed, pressing my hands on the edge of the sink. “He’s too stubborn for his own good.”
“He’s gotten better.”
I bit my tongue. No use in going there. If Dad hadn’t told his favorite person that he was dying, I wasn’t going to do it either. It wasn’t my place. I heard him approach, but stayed in the same position, facing the sink, unwilling to turn around. I’d already met the amount of emotions I was able to handle in one morning. He was standing directly behind me. He wasn’t touching me, but he might a
s well have been squeezing me in his arms for how much I felt his presence. I saw his arm from my peripheral vision as he set something on the counter beside me. A key. I blinked, looking at him over my shoulder.
“To my place,” he said. I felt the weight of it press onto my chest. He must have noticed my panic, because he added, “Since you’re going to stay there a few days. Don’t make this more than what it is.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks?” I exhaled with a nod, picking the key up and sliding it into my back pocket. “I’ll probably stay there Wednesday night if that’s okay. That dating thing is exactly two weeks from today. I’m starting to worry everything won’t be perfect by then.”
“What dating thing?”
“A speed dating company booked out the brewery.” I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at his bewildered expression.
“They want the entire space?”
“Not the entire space. Just a few benches.”
“That is just weird. Did you offer them a special or something?”
“Well, yeah. The owner of the speed dating company is a friend of mine.”
“Do I know this friend?”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t know all of my friends.”
“I know. I’m just asking. I’m always curious about what happened to the group of vultures you used to hang out with in college.”
“Vultures?” That made me laugh. “Why would you call them that?”
“Oh, you know, they’d survey the perimeter, squawk around when they saw prey, and go in for the kill in a pack, hoping to secure the prey before the other. You have to admit, it was weird.”
The Consequence of Falling: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 11