Provocative Professions Collection (15 page)

"We haven't." He laughs. "Sorry about that, I've just been busy getting things up and running."

My smile can't be contained—my brother's actually living his dream! "Don't apologize, Dyl. I'm so proud and excited for you!"

"Thanks," he says, his voice humble. "So hey, can you do lunch tomorrow, my treat?"

"Of course! Need my big brother fix."

"Great, say noon at Ruby's?"

I immediately agree and end the call with a giddy excitement, sitting back a minute to revel in how happy I am for my brother.

I'm actually more surprised that I'm surprised...why
wouldn't
Brady be here, already seated and cutting up with Dylan as I'm lead to their table?

"There she is!" Dylan springs from his seat to wrap me in an energetic embrace. "You look great, Moe. I've missed you."

"Me too." Swiping quickly at my silly tears of pride, I glance hesitantly at Brady, who still hasn't greeted me as Dylan pushes in my chair. It's official. "Brady and Moe" is broken. Never has that man not acknowledged me within five seconds of being in a room. For fuck's sake! I didn't say we couldn't talk, I said we couldn't be more. But in all fairness, I haven't gone out of my way to send a text and invite him over to hang out either. It's no longer easy with us as friends and I haven't been able to bring myself to face it.

Seems his "coward" comment held more truth than I'd care to admit.

"Hello, Brady," I grind out as civilly as possible, aggravated at his stubbornness.

"Moe." He gives a curt nod.

Dylan's watching back and forth like a Ping-Pong match, understandably confused. "The hell? Ya'll have a fight?"

Brady cocks one brow my way, challenging me to answer. Not biting. "No, of course not." I smile at Dyl. "Anyway, this is your day. So tell us all about things."

Don't have to ask him twice; he instantly starts gushing out all that's been happening as I hold my enthusiastic smile firmly in place, trying to keep up and stay focused, while kicking Brady under the table. He looks my way only once and I stick out my tongue, face twisted up like a slapstick comic seeking a laugh. I don't get one and when I kick my foot out again its only air I hit; he's moved his leg, and worse, he's scooting his chair over.

Thankfully, Ruby's is a sandwich shop, so we're able to order and be served quickly, the atmosphere slightly more amicable, but still "off" despite my attempts to lighten his mood. Brady wasn't this quiet when he had laryngitis two years ago, and if he doesn't stop dampening Dylan's parade with his pouting, I
will
throw this pickle at him.

"So you'll both come, right?"

"What?" I ask, having zoned out on the last part of Dylan's speech.

His head cranes my way. "My launch party. It's this Friday night. You'll be there?"

"Of course I will." I pat his jittery hand. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Just let me know when and where. Did I mention how proud of you I am?"

"Shucks, ma'am," he jests with a wave of his hand. "Oh and it's formal, so gown and tux," he speaks between us both. "And bring dates. The more the merrier. I want a big crowd there."

I struggle to temper my expression—formal
and
a date, not what I'd expect from my brother.

"You got it. No worries," Brady says directly to Dylan. His voice cuts through me, sparking the flame Dr. Reynolds had been managing.

We're mercifully saved from further "surprises" by Dylan's phone, but the bomb's already dropped...gown and date.

"Sorry guys, but I need to go. See you Friday?" My brother leans down and kisses my cheek, hardly waiting for our answers before he's out the door.

I jump up, busying myself with throwing away our trash, ready to rush out as well. But as I turn I'm immediately pinned by a brooding, menacing Brady hovering in my space.

"Be my date for Dylan's party, Moe. Me and you, please. I miss
us
."

"Do you?" I scoff, shoving against his chest, not budging him whatsoever. "Could've fooled me! What's with the doom and gloom pouting then? You could have gotten up and hugged me, called me, anything! Didn't seem like you missed us? Which, P.S., is
exactly
the reason I said no to more in the first place!"

"Well excuse the fuck outa me! It's not easy to figure out the rules—
your
rules! I could have sworn there was something real here, Moe, so I put myself out there and you basically shot me down, right through the heart!
P.S.
maybe I can't snap back into 'just friends' mode like you can. Maybe I wanna sit beside you and caress your back or—ahh!" He mocks a gasp. "Maybe I want to hold your little hand, no matter where we are or who's watching." His tone drops along with his face, anger suddenly morphed into hurt. "I just…I could've sworn you thought Brady and Moe was something different now too."

Lowering my head on a sigh, I fight the anguished quivering in my chin. I never want to see him hurt and I never meant to cause it. "Listen, Brady, you're my best friend and I miss you desperately but I've got something—" I stop, not wanting to delve into things in the middle of Ruby's.

"Be. My. Date," he growls lowly in my face.

My head's shaking before I refuse verbally and he's once again already sulking out, nearly ripping the door off when he shoves it open. I hate myself in this moment. My head falls back against the wall, my arms wrapping around myself, wanting to hide from the world. I don't even notice the tears until a voice asks, "You okay, Miss?"

I look up to find a waitress staring at me with nothing but pity. With an irate huff, I push off the wall. "Golden."

It's me that's busting out their door next, ready to crawl back in bed and end this damn day.

A dress? You'd think that'd be simple enough to find, except I've been to half the shops in town and found not one. It isn't helping that the event is tomorrow, and after spending the last few days going from work to home and straight to bed, I'm quickly running out of time and options.

Maybe I'm depressed, which seems ridiculous to me because only a few days earlier I was damn near giddy with the hand I'd been dealt—deliciously erotic doctor appointments—and now… Now everything is as fucked up as my dress hunt.

I need something that reflects the love and pride I have for Dylan. I'm standing in the last shop in town, begging the universe to show some mercy, when it does just that. I snatch the dress from the rack with a triumphant smile. It has a babydoll-style skirt, corseted waist, and plunging neckline in a gorgeous off-white with just a hint of silver highlighted throughout. It's even more gorgeous when I see the price tag; I can afford new heels to match.

I head straight to the dressing room hoping it looks as good on me as it does the hanger when I hear my name.

"Addison?"

I turn toward the unfamiliar voice and see the brainy beauty, aka Brady's last date, standing with a long gown in hand. Crap, what's her name?

"Hi." I grin a bit too much hoping it will cover the nameless slip.

"You don't remember me?" She laughs softly, almost like music. No wonder Brady asked her out.

"No, I do! Brady brought you to dinner," I say quickly, then confess. "Sorry, I'm horrible with names. It's nothing personal."

"It's Ashley and don't worry about it, I forget all the time."

"Right, sorry, but you remembered mine, which means you're just being polite right now or I left a memorable impression." I pale as the words fall out, remembering why she'd have a lasting impression of me after my abrupt exit that night. "Look, sorry I up and left during the dinner, it's just…"

"You don't have to explain. And the reason I remember you so well is because Brady talks about you often. You two seem like close friends."

My shoulders drop. "Yeah." It's barely a whisper.

"Love the dress. It's gorgeous. I almost grabbed it for myself." She nudges her head at my hands gripping the fabric.

"Thanks, you found a good choice…classic black." The dress draped over her arm is long and screams graceful and timeless. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm guessing same as you. Dylan's party tomorrow night."

It's a surreal moment, the kind where the air is ripped painfully from your lungs and you don't know whether to laugh or cry. With a spinning head and failing knees, I could swear an earthquake is pulsing under my feet.

She's going to the party, which means Brady found a date. I retreat into the dressing room before I lose my sense in front of her and say something I'll regret. They'll look good together. Brady in a tux, her corralled in his arms…I can't stomach the thought.

"Well, I guess I'll see you there," I say in an awkward huff, then quickly shut the dressing room door.

"Okay, yeah, bye," I hear her say but I'm already squatted down on the floor, face in my hands, trying to block out the assaulting images of her and Brady together.

He deserves to be happy
, I remind myself. I have to let him go, let him take the time he needs to be angry at me. Eventually he'll see that "we" are too important to risk on a tryst. There can never be more, despite the flicker of hope and tearful musings of how extraordinary "more" would probably be warming my chest.

Chapter 15

I'm late. Only by five minutes or so, but still late to the most important night of my brother's life. Guilt eats at me yet does little to quicken my pace.

My excuse, in case he notices, is still being debated. Traffic is always a safe bet but in reality the only thing to blame is my own selfish procrastination.

I dragged ass from the moment I got off work. I watched a little television, painted my nails only to remove it and repaint them a different color, and
then
finally hauled myself into the bathroom to get ready an hour before the event began.

So here I am, stepping into a grand hotel in the center of town, reluctant to pass through the double doors leading to the ballroom.

And no, my tardiness has nothing to do with the fact that I know I'll find a gorgeous Brady on the other side, charming the room with a flawless date wrapped around his arm.

Nope, nothing at all.

I hope he is in there; happy, carefree, wearing his usual smug grin, back to his old self. Truly.

I check my coat and square my shoulders, ready to do nothing but celebrate my brother's accomplishment. He has a lot of work to do to the get the business off the ground, but tonight it's official, he's putting the pieces together to bring it to life.

Seems lots of things are changing.

A waiter greets me, handing me a glass of champagne, then steps aside, revealing the room awaiting me.

The quick chug I take of the liquid bravado nearly sputters out as I take in the insanely stunning scenery, decorated in white linens and Dylan's black "Game On!" logo. The atmosphere leaves me breathless. Never would I have thought it could look so chic. Dylan knows games, but throwing a party?
He must've found an incredible planner.

Time to go find my big bro and remind him just how amazing he is.

Once I'm fully immersed in the room, I spot Dylan near the band and my face splits into a wide grin. Eager to get to his side where I plan to remain all night, I weave through the crowd of mingling guests, but as I draw closer, my feet trip me up in an abrupt stop. Dylan's in deep conversation with not just two studious men whom I've never seen before, but also Ashley, who's looking as beautiful as I knew she would.

Brady's not with them, but he can't be far. He wouldn't leave his date alone with all these men, not with the way she fills out that dress. I snatch another glass of champagne from a passing tray and gulp.

Feeling out of place, I move back, unsure if I should wait until she leaves his side or go say hi now. It's silly and ridiculous. He's
my
brother, but still, I don't want Dylan to see any awkwardness tonight.

Deciding I'll bide my time before I say hello, I stand there alone and unnatural, wishing I had brought a date. As I try to block out my solo status, a current of electricity sizzles down the back of my neck. I don't need to turn around to know he's here. He's close. I can feel him behind me, my body hyperaware of him tonight.