Blended (Redemption #1) (16 page)

“Are you going to tell me what exactly went down last night? I don’t think that I’ve seen Holden that mad before.”

“Yeah, well, you need to stop letting him in. He shouldn’t have free range over me.”

“Okay, I apologize for that, but I had no idea that Waylon Brass was asleep in your bed. I didn’t know that it was that serious.”

“I don’t know what it is, Lo,” I tell her honestly as I sip on my whiskey. When I told Lo that I needed a drink, she decided to tag along even though all she can drink here is water.

“I get it. I mean, this thing with Owen and me has gotten pretty serious fast, so I get that it’s difficult to grasp onto what a relationship or fling or whatever this is means.”

“I don’t think that he’s going to want much to do with me after last night.”

“I think that you’re drunk.” She giggles and scoots closer to me on the couch.

“I wish I was. Maybe I’ll make it my goal for today.”

“You’re insane, you know that? Don’t go getting drunk over a man who is probably not worth your time in gold condoms. I’m sure he’s been with another woman since you two haven’t made yourselves exclusive.”

“That’s the thing, even though we haven’t, I don’t think that he has.”

She sighs and reaches into her tote where she pulls out a magazine. “Have you seen this? I think that you might have some competition since this came out this morning. I saw it on my way to grab Owen and myself some coffee.”

“What is it?” I ask as I reach for it. My eyes widen at the image on
GQ
’s cover. Impeccably dressed in suit and tie, Wade stares back at me with the title
Man of the Year
written above his name. “Holy shit.”

“That’s what I thought. He’s fucking gorgeous, Hads, and it says in his spread that he’s single. I think that you should read it. He seems to be rather dedicated to his work as well as a charity that he heads. He kind of made me swoon in my panties.”

“Lola,” I scold her as I flip through the pages to find his article, “you’re not getting this back; I hope you know that.”

“I figured, so I bought the rest of them that were on the stand, and probably saved eight women’s panties from death via drowning.”

I groan and take another drink of my whiskey. “To me, he’s just . . . Wade. He’s not this celebrity billionaire that the media makes him out to be.”

“Sweetheart, the man basically owns and runs Chicago, as well as Las Vegas.”

“I get that, but I don’t understand why they make such a big deal about him. He’s not an actor or anything.”

“So? Have you seen him? He’s absolutely gorgeous and worth every drop of ink that went into printing these magazines.”

I flip through another page of photographs of him before I settle on one of him looking away from the camera and out at the lake. I run my finger over his jawline and sigh. “He makes me feel wanted.”

“I’d say that you are. Especially by him.”

“You think so?”

“By the way he messed up Holden last night, I know so. If Holden didn’t know any better, I’m sure that he’d sue him, but I don’t think that he wants to mess things up with you.”

“You and I both know that I’m not interested in pursuing anything with Hold.”

“I might, but I doubt that he does.” She pats my knee and stands up. “I need to get to the boutique and open up. One of my girls called out sick.”

“All right.” I stand up and give her a hug before she grabs her things and walks out of Blended.

My mind goes to Wade and how last night must have looked to him. I sigh and throw my head back before placing the magazine into my purse and moving across the room to a quieter spot where I pull out the current novel that I’m reading to occupy my mind.

This shit feeling has made itself comfortable inside of me as I sit in his whiskey library alone after Lo left for work. I thought that coming here would soothe me in a way, but it’s only made the unease grow stronger. The emotion nestles itself in for the long haul, and I’m confident that I won’t be able to shake it, at least until I speak to him.

To add to the pressure on my heart, Isla keeps glancing over at me with her phone in her hand, and I swear, if she does it again I’m going to march over to her and demand for her to tell me what her issue is. She beats me to the punch, though, when she walks up to me, holding an application to the library.

“Hey Hadley. Mr. Brass is insistent that you fill out these forms,” she says and hands them to me.

“Hi, okay. I can do it now.”

Something about her stance makes me think that she’s somehow got more to say to me than to hand over an application. I’m sure that he wasn’t the reason she brought it to me, but what do I know?

“Great. Just bring it up to the bar when you’re done, okay?”

“You’ve got it,” I say, wanting her to leave me alone for the rest of the day. I just want to sit here and wallow in my self-pity after last night.

“And one more thing,” she adds,
and there it is
, “I know that it’s not my place to say this, but I’m going to regardless. Wade is one hell of a man, and if he’s too much for you to handle, then you need to let him go. He’s not someone who will fuck around with you, or go out of his way to let you know what he’s feeling. With that being said, it was sure fucking obvious as to how he felt last night with a swollen and bruised jaw. He deserves better than you, and why he’s stooping down to your level baffles me.”

My mouth drops open in bewilderment. I’m usually the woman who takes people by the balls and swings them around a bit, but she just shoved my lady balls up into my throat. I force a swallow before I try out my voice.

“H-how the hell do you know about any of this?”

“Wade and I go back to our college years. He’s pretty much my best friend, and if you fuck with him again, I swear that I will roofie your drink and watch some asshole drag you out of this place by your nipples. Getting a call from him at four-thirty in the morning never happens.”

I swear, if she wasn’t threatening me, I think I would actually get along with her assertive, bitchy self.

“He called you?”

“Uh, yeah. Who the hell else tended to his fucked-up jaw since you were too busy with the other guy?”

I pause because I want to launch myself at her like Wade did to Holden last night. “I didn’t give aid to anyone.” I shift in my seat and brush a stray curl off of my face.

“Sure you didn’t. Bring me that application when you’re done filling it out.”

I look down at the form and don’t respond to her as she walks away. My mind goes into overdrive trying to figure out if there is something romantic going on between them, but if there were, why would she know about me?

She wouldn’t, I tell myself.

An anticipation to see him boils deep in my belly, the build-up of it will be too much to handle pretty soon. The knowledge that he was with another woman last night adds to the buzzing uneasiness that I feel. I never compete with another woman for any man, but for some reason, I’m more than willing to for Waylon Brass.

I dig a pen out of my purse and proceed to fill in the membership forms. My mind is still reeling with what Isla said and how pissed off she was. I dare a glance at her, and she’s watching me while she’s on the phone with someone. Wade maybe? I don’t know, but I think we’re too much alike in a way. She’s not afraid to take charge and wrestle a bull by its balls, which pretty much describes me as well. An argument between the two of us could be catastrophic.

I finish filling out my information and set the application down on the coffee table before me and take a drink of the whiskey I ordered when I first arrived.

Despite my unease, I lean back against the leather seat and shut my eyes, remembering last night. I’ve never slept that soundly before, not since my mother took her own life. The numerous flashbacks to last night make me tense up. He was beyond irate, and Holden just egged him on. I seriously need to speak to Holden about his behavior, but even more importantly, I wish Wade would at the very least call me back so I can apologize to him.

I have no idea when or how I became attached to the thought of having him, but it’s engraved itself into the breastplate covering my heart. I would do anything to give last night a redo. I’d make sure that my door was locked and that Holden knew to stay away, but in reality, I know it would never happen. I told Wade that it was what I was going to do, regardless of what I had just talked myself into earlier that day. He doesn’t know that I’ve decided to give him a chance—sans another man’s dick.

He won’t know that I’m going to actually try to stop using the physical act of sex as a coping mechanism for depression. My anxiety rears its ugly head at the thought of my setting aside my sexual habits while I figure out what’s different between Wade and me. I use deep breathing in an attempt to ease it, but it does not seem to help.

I’ll have to figure out something else to numb the pain and memories while the guilt and shame of my past creep back into my heart. It’s going to be like breaking an addiction: I’ll be off-balance, but the withdrawal from something physical for something emotional might be worth the cost. Not everyone agrees that sexual addiction is an actual diagnosed addiction, but I can vouch for it. I’ve gone to extremes for sex, none of which I am proud of, but it was what I thought I needed to heal—until now. Now it’s almost obvious that I’ve been sprinting down the wrong path for all of these years.

It’s time to find my dopamine high somewhere else, and I think I know exactly where I can get it naturally. Only time will tell, though. I’m deciding to fight for myself for the first time in my life, and it’s all because I met Waylon Brass—the one man who refuses to give me what I want, what I need.

A glass of whiskey later, and I’ve moved to the couch next to the fireplace with my paperback. I hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep until I’m jolted off of the couch. I force my eyes open and glance at the arms surrounding me. I begin to panic, but relax into them when I hear his dark voice.

“How long has she been asleep? Is she drunk?”

“Nope, at least I don’t think so. She just had two tumblers. She’s just been lights-out for over an hour. I figured I should let you know, though. I wasn’t sure if she was sick or whatever. Maybe just desperate for your attention.”

“Thank you, Isla. I owe you for this shit.”

“Oh, you have no idea, buddy. I’m banking on that Australian trip.”

I keep my eyes shut as they speak, trying to stay awake, but I end up drifting off in his arms as I feel his body move.

When I open my eyes again, I’m surrounded by darkness. It’s pitch black in here, and I cannot figure out where I am for the life of me. A door to the unknown room cracks open and a stream of light illuminates a neutral-colored bedroom. I sit up and push my hair off of my face before realizing that I’m in a bed.

“You’re awake.”

“Wade?”

“Yes. You know, you shouldn’t go around falling asleep in public places. Some asshole could take you home with him without your realizing it.”

“Where am I?”

“We’re at my place. I wanted you out of the public eye, and I didn’t think going back to your apartment would be a good idea because if I see him again,
I will slaughter him
.”

I push the plush bedding down my body and realize that I’m not even wearing my outfit from earlier. I frown and look up at him as he crosses the room to stand next to the bed.

“You changed me?”

“Yes. I didn’t for the first couple of hours, but I figured that I should eventually, seeing as you’ll be staying the night.”

I swing my legs off of the bed and drink him in—in all of his deliciousness. He’s wearing a dark suit, his jaw has a large bruise on the left-hand side, and his stubble has grown in heavier than I’ve seen on him before.

“I don’t need to stay the night, but thank you. I don’t know why I fell asleep either. I’ve been exhausted these last few days.”

“You are staying the night, seeing as it’s one in the morning. There won’t be any arguments about it.” I watch his jaw move as he speaks and my panties reap the effects of it.

“Are you serious?” I search around for my phone but come up empty-handed. I turn toward his body, and I can feel the vague rumblings of the static making its presence known.

“Yes. Did you eat before you drank those two tumblers?”

“No, not really. I haven’t been able to stomach too much in the last few days.”

The lines in his forehead deepen as he sits down next to me. “Then you should not have been drinking. Especially on your own.”

“I know, I just . . .” I stop myself before showing my hand of cards. “I was hoping that you would be there today. I’m so sorry about last night. I had no idea that he would come in or . . .”

“Stop,” he says as he cups my cheek with one of his large hands. “I know that his coming there wasn’t something that you knew about. The shock on your face told me that, but as I said before, I understand that he’s going to give you what I won’t. Him or others.”

“He’s not.” My stomach twists. I’m not sure if it’s from his words or if I’m just not feeling well. “Where’s the bathroom?” Waves of nausea add to my misery instantly. I clutch my mouth and get up quickly.