Chapter 7 The After-Party #3
“You mean when you two cheated on me?”
Her arms stiffened, and Brad enjoyed the momentary satisfaction that gave him.
“You and I weren’t more than glorified roommates, Bradley. Don’t kid yourself.” He wished that didn’t sting.
“You didn’t just dump me when things got stale. That I could have handled, especially from a friend. You humiliated me.”
“It wouldn’t have worked. You and I both know you would have tried everything to keep us together.”
He nodded reluctantly. She was right there. He’d been deathly afraid of moving on from her, from the life they’d built together, from the memories of the times that had been good—some better than good—even if they were few and far between.
“I agree. So, why the texts?” Her feet tripped up but not so much that anyone would have noticed. She was always just steady enough not to draw notice. Her gaze fell to the floor again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to send them.”
Brad stopped them in the middle of the dance floor, tilting her head up so that he could make sure she was looking right at him.
“But you did, Jules,” he said, his voice stern and direct.
“You sent two texts right before you got married to the guy you cheated on me with. One of them said ‘I miss you.’ What the hell is that?” His voice was raised, and he could feel the heat of dozens of eyes on him, waiting to see what he was upset about, what he would do next, if he would lose his cool.
He didn’t give a shit. Not anymore.
“Because I do miss you. I know that the timing sucks and it won’t make a difference, but when I was getting dressed…
” She whispered, clearly embarrassed by the new and unwanted attention.
She paused, plastering a fake, pageant-girl smile on her face.
He stopped moving around the floor again.
She’d better not finish that sentence the way he thought she might.
“I thought about you, Brad.” She exhaled, a soft whine that had always grated on his nerves.
He, conversely, held his breath, afraid of what he might say.
After counting slowly to five, he let out his own breath, along with any empathy he felt toward her.
“You’re right, Jules. The timing does suck.
And you’re the one who just admitted that you and I were done long before we broke up, before you broke us up.
How dare you throw this on me now.” Brad’s hands trembled on her lower back.
He glanced over at his dad and Sophie. Sophie’s eyes bored into his, a curious expression playing on her soft features.
Brad took a deep breath and released Julia, whose glassy stare was punctuated by feverish, darting looks around her. She wrung her hands, petrified. She was always in control, and it scared the hell out of her to not be the one calling the shots this time.
Too bad. She’d done this to herself.
“I’m sorry, Brad. I am,” she tried to whisper, but now her voice was laced with desperation, raising it a few octaves. “But, please. Don’t leave me out here. Not today.” Her eyes watered, eliciting the familiar pang of guilt that Julia was a damn professional at drawing out of him.
He made sure he was within whispering range, but certainly not for her benefit.
“Just tell me one thing. Where the hell is Chris? Why isn’t he out here with you?” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Brad followed Julia’s sad gaze to the bar, where Chris was bellied up with some familiar buddies he’d had in college, dozens of shot glasses lined up in front of them.
They laughed about something, Chris’s hand on one of their shoulders, holding himself upright.
Brad closed his eyes. Of course Chris was getting hammered at his own wedding, forgetting about his bride. Jesus. Some things never changed.
The couple hadn’t even had their first dance yet, and the reception was half over.
The crowd had lost its first layer of insulation, the grandparents bowing out.
His folks and their friends would be the next group to leave, and still Chris hadn’t so much as brought his bride a glass of champagne.
Pity was all that kept Brad talking to Julia.
“What do you want, Jules? Tell me right now. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know, Brad,” Jules stammered, her voice cracking. “I do know I still love you, though.” And with that, the spell was broken, and Brad could see through to the Julia who had always been there, the selfish woman whose own needs always superseded those around her.
“Well, that’s not good enough. It never has been. I know now that it never will be, either.” He let out the remainder of a deep breath of air that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in this whole time. “Take care, Jules.”
Without turning around to see her expression, which would be more than he could handle, Brad strode up to Sophie and his dad. He hid his shaking hands by shoving them in his pockets, and bit down on his bottom lip that trembled.
“Hey there, old man. Quit hogging the prettiest woman here.” He hoped he sounded half as calm as his dad looked.
“Well, it seemed only right that she learn how a real man should move.” His dad’s eyes were positively shining, and Brad laughed, the conversation with Julia sliding off his back like unwanted weight.
He still had his family, the people he knew he could count on no matter what else was going to hell.
“Oh, Dad. That white-man shuffle isn’t dancing. It barely counts as more than a safety hazard.”
“Now, you be kind.” Brad’s dad frowned at him, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his good humor.
“Young lady, thank you for entertaining, as Brad so aptly put it, an old man.” His dad turned towards Brad.
“Son, treat this one right. She’s special.
” Alan winked at Sophie, and Brad watched with entertainment as she gave an exaggerated wink and a wide, toothy grin back.
“I know.” Brad looked right at Sophie when he said this and was pleased to see her cheeks flush crimson, her hand back over her mouth, hiding her gorgeous smile. God, he wished she wouldn’t do that. Her smile was the only thing that gave the starched, pale-pink room any life.
“You two be good. I’m going to go try to wrestle that grimace off your mother’s face before the night’s over. Wish me luck.” Alan walked off, and Brad took Sophie’s hand, heading towards the door.
His dad’s mission would be much harder to complete than the self-imposed task he’d given himself of wooing Sophie, a job he hoped took an indefinite amount of time.
The time passed too quickly with her, and with trepidation, he looked at his watch, afraid of the morning and what it might bring.
If it included this woman whose hand he gripped, he’d take anything that came his way.
“Where are we heading, mister?” Sophie asked him, tangling her fingers in his. He didn’t care that he’d only been reacquainted with her a little more than an hour—this time he wasn’t letting her go.
“Out of here. Are you game?”
Sophie snuck a peek back into the reception hall, a slight frown flashing across her face, but she recovered and turned back to him, the look passed.
“Am I ever. I’d follow you anywhere tonight, Connors.
” She winked, a much sexier and subtler wink than the one she’d playfully tossed his father.
His heart beat faster, and his palms began to sweat.
God, every cell of his reacted to Sophie in a visceral way that left him breathless and wanting more.
“Good to know, Kellerman,” he teased back. “How about we start with the hotel bar and find those wayward friends of ours, then see where the night takes us?”
“Oh my God,” Sophie giggled. “I completely forgot about those traitors! So much for being Jackie’s date.”
“Honestly, I did, too. Thanks for being there for me, Sophie. Steve was supposed to be my defensive lineman here.” Brad had been pissed about Steve’s dismissal of them in the beginning, but now he sort of felt like he owed the guy a debt of gratitude for giving him an in with Sophie.
“Did you see Steve at the ceremony at all?”
Brad shook his head. “Not even at the reception. Which means you owe me five dollars,” he said. He was unnerved when she didn’t even smile at his lame joke.
There was a very pregnant pause from Sophie, and he knew what was coming before the words were out of her mouth. Oddly enough, he didn’t worry about having a potentially tough conversation with her—she’d weathered the ceremony just fine and that was just shy of Chernobyl status.
“On that note, are you okay? I saw you dancing with Julia, and you looked upset.”
“I’m good, thanks. It wasn’t pleasant, but then, the last four years together weren’t either. I’m not sure why I expected any different. I just wish you didn’t have to see it.” He especially meant that last part.
“I didn’t mind. I just felt like I wanted to save you, crazy as that might sound. I’m guessing you wouldn’t have had to go through that at all if Steve had held his end of your deal?”
“Nope. You think they’re even still at the bar?
” Brad changed the subject, otherwise he’d have a pretty hard time hiding his excitement at her admission that she wanted to save him.
He understood exactly what she meant because he felt the same about her.
The realization sent shockwaves of lust straight to his stomach.
“I have no idea. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d left with him and was already back at the bar talking to someone else. She’s a serial dater at best.”
“Steve, too. I hope we didn’t completely blow it by leaving them alone together. This could be bad.”
“It could be. But let’s not forget they ditched us and get whatever is coming to them.”
“That’s some lawyer reasoning right there, Counselor.”
“Damn straight it is. Jackie is on the hot seat with me. Tonight didn’t have to go as well as it did for us, and they never bothered to even check in. Screw them.”
Brad pulled Sophie in. Just before the bar, he turned and pinned her up against the wall, raising her hands above her head. He dipped in close and whispered in her ear, “Let’s not worry about them anymore tonight. I want to spend the night with you, not them.”
Her dress hitched up to an unhealthily sexy height when her hands were above her head.
It would only take a finger along the hemline to send them both into uncharted territory.
Brad was at half-mast under his suit pants, thankful for the jacket that gave him at least some modicum of privacy.
Still, he imagined his hand sliding up under the silky black fabric, hoped he would find her wet and inviting.
Just to test the waters, he nibbled on her perfectly shaped earlobe, a fleshy teardrop meant only for him, and rubbed one thumb along the top of her taut thigh, his other hand holding both hers hostage above her head.
When she shuddered under him, the hair on his arms rose. She nodded, not looking away, her sultry gaze urging him on. Her irises were almost black with lust, a look that reflected his own desire, hot and urgent. This was a third iteration of her personality, one he liked more than just a little.
He kissed her gently on the lips, his tongue tickling her bottom lip, teasing her mouth until it opened for him.
She moved her hips closer to him, ground her pelvis against his, and he groaned.
So much for half-mast. He was hard as stone now, his whole body buzzing with electricity.
He pulled away and she exhaled, a soft release of air that turned him on even more, if that was possible.
“Come with me,” he told her, his voice a low growl but still intimate, meant only for her.
He released her hands, but wrapped his arm around her waist tightly, a sense of ownership implied.
By now, Julia was all but a distant memory.
Sophie walked alongside him until they got to the bar doorway where she stopped short.
He started to ask if everything was okay but stopped himself as soon as he saw what made her freeze in her tracks.
“No way,” she whispered.
“No way,” he echoed. Brad didn’t know what to think as he looked through the small window in the door. “They’re adults,” he argued, mostly to himself. “They can handle themselves, can’t they?”
The way Sophie looked at him said otherwise, and she was right.
His pants loosened around his waist as he forced his brain to put the ideas of what he wanted to do to Sophie on hold for the time being.
So much for skipping the bar and taking Sophie upstairs.
He put his hand on Sophie’s hip and led her through the western doors.
Their whole night was going to play out a little different than they’d both thought.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Should we go somewhere else? We can always handle them in the morning.” The mood had changed, not just between them, but in him as well, and that made him furious.
He was so close to getting everything he’d wanted, everything he’d needed for who knew how long.
Leave it to Steve to fuck it all up for him.
Wingman, his ass.
“No. Let’s just get this over with. We’ve got to find out what the hell happened to lead to this,” she said, nodding in towards the center of the bar.
Brad nodded in tacit agreement and led Sophie to a high top next to the bar.
“Two shots, please,” he told Sam, who was still behind the bar, looking exhausted. “We’re gonna need them.”