Chapter 13
MAX
“And that was five weeks ago?” Nathan asks about the night I attended the dating in the dark event at The Velvet Rooms.
“Yeah.” Five long fucking weeks of not knowing.
“And you’ve not heard from her since, not a peep?” Cole asks again, even though he already knows the sequence of events.
I scratch my beard and stare at my three brothers sitting on the sofa across from my desk, like vultures from The Jungle Book, eager to pick every bone of my flesh for any piece of information.
“Yeah. Like magic, she was there one minute and the next, poof.” I make fireworks gestures with my fingers, making them look like they are exploding. “Her kid got sick.”
Eli gives me a hard stare. “But you hate kids.”
“I don’t hate kids,” I admonish.
Eli scoffs and reminds me of what I said.
“Okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh. But what you did say to me when Juliette suggested having kids was that they weren’t part of your plan, and that you didn’t babysit but build empires and that you had rules.
No commitment, no relationships, no mentioning forever. ”
Fuck, I sound like a jackass.
Nathan jumps in like he’s the fucking king of memories.
“You also said that you weren’t the white-picket fence, settling-down type and had zero interest in playing daddy.
And you said it was breaking one of your many stupid rules.
Then there was the no chasing women, no falling in love and no dating single moms or something equally narrow-minded. ”
Fuck, I did say that.
Cole adds his two cents’ worth. “Just yesterday I heard you talking to Louise about how kids bring chaos to people’s lives, and strollers didn’t look cool.”
I hate that my brothers’ minds are like steel traps, which often makes them seem like know-it-alls. I’m also uncomfortable with how easily my brothers rattle off the things I’ve said in the past and use them against me. Assholes.
“My kid’s going to have a cool stroller.
It comes with cup holders and all sorts of shit.
It’s like a fucking space machine.” Grinning proudly, Nathan looks down at his phone, tapping at it to find what he is looking for, then shows Eli and Cole his screen before turning it to show me a photo of what looks like a fucking mantrap.
It’s a stroller, but fuck to the no. That’s not for me.
“Cool as hell.” Nathan brims with pride, sounding lovestruck with a stroller.
My solid, steadfast brother is turning soft. Pussy-whipped motherfucker.
Lucky bastard, perhaps.
Strollers?
My body tenses involuntarily.
No thanks.
“And she still hasn’t completed the Hook Me Up form The Velvet Rooms sent out?” Cole asks, double-checking if anything has changed since he asked me the same damn thing he’s been asking for weeks.
“No.” My short word is firm and tense. If she had any intention of finding out who I was, she would have done it by now, surely. “Nothing.” I side-eye my email inbox as if a new email from The Velvet Rooms is going to appear from my want alone magically.
Nathan stands up, already bored with this conversation. “I would forget her. Move on.”
“Great advice, never thought about that,” I reply dryly, flipping him the bird. We might be the best lawyers in the city, but as brothers, we behave like we did when we were kids: childish and ridiculously petty.
He straightens out his suit jacket and rebuttons it. “Why do you even care, anyway? You never get like this over a girl.”
I want to tell him it’s because something was different about her and for once I gave a damn.
It was subtle, but deep. I was drawn to her, and now it seems as if I’m tethered to her by an invisible thread.
I don’t admit any of that to my brothers, though; instead, I hide my emotions to protect my dented ego and go with, “It was the best blow job of my life.”
Cole and Eli both roll their eyes at the same time.
Nathan sounds annoyed when he says, “You’re shallower than a shot glass.”
“Five words,” I say, counting my next words with my fingers. “One. Night. Stand. With Arianna.”
“Hey, that was different and you know it.” His retort is firm and final.
“Well, the girl I met felt different.” I speak before I think, and it’s too late.
Nathan grins wickedly like a conspirator, shifting his gaze from me to my brothers and back again.
I’m as obvious as a neon sign. My brothers know me, and they know I wouldn’t be wasting energy over someone who never looked back if I didn’t feel something. There is no explanation for wanting someone I don’t even know the name of.
This is fucked up.
Nathan’s brow lifts, a question there, before he pushes me. “So, it wasn’t just about the blow job? You felt something for her.”
“Shut up. Get out of my office,” I bite back, exposing my truth, which only makes Nathan sit back down. The greedy bastard wants blood and the truth.
As the state’s best personal injury lawyer, Nathan doesn’t switch off at the courtroom door. He’ll peel the truth out of you like it’s crucial evidence.
He’s right though, I did feel something; I still do, but what exactly?
Recognition, an unspoken understanding, familiarity, a sync of energy?
Hell no, that sounds far out, and a bit woo woo, and I don’t believe in any of that universal manifestation shit.
Fated mates? Nah, fuck that. But I can’t deny the pull between us that happened and how I dropped my guard, even if it was just by a few inches.
Even in the dark, I felt seen, and since then I can’t stop thinking about her.
Her fragrance, voice, touch, and all those fucking whimpers and little moans of hers hit me harder than anyone before.
Like a punch to the chest, she’s consumed me for days and I can’t shake her out of my system even if I wanted to.
“And you’re sure it wasn’t just because it was in the dark?
While it sounds hot as fuck, I think maybe your judgment’s been clouded and that’s what is making this mysterious girl so attractive to you.
” Eli, our voice of reason and the most level-headed out of the four of us, tries to play devil’s advocate.
“Maybe.” I sound skeptical. There was more to it, I know there was.
Cole pulls out his phone and taps the screen at lightning speed.
“So, what do we know about her? Let’s make a list.” My youngest brother is the picture of efficiency.
He thinks it’s because his star sign is Virgo.
Fuck knows what that has to do with it, but if that’s what he believes, then who am I to disagree with his beliefs?
That reminds me. “She has a tattoo of the Virgo constellation on her ankle because that’s her star sign.
It glows in the dark under UV lighting, and she said it looked different in daylight.
” Doubting if that was true, I looked it up online and discovered she wasn’t lying.
“She has a kid.” I list the one thing I’m uncomfortable with, and yet that’s still not stopping me from running a mile.
“She celebrated her fortieth birthday last year, which makes us the same age.”
Cole continues to take notes.
“She said she helps people to untie knots.” I give him another thing to add.
Cole looks up from his phone, confusion wrinkling his brow. A similar look adorns Nathan’s and Eli’s faces.
“What?” I ask, not clued in to what they are clearly thinking.
“She’s a divorce lawyer,” Nathan states confidently.
I reject his suggestion and recoil immediately, too shocked to say anything other than a sharp, “No.”
“Yes.” Eli nods enthusiastically.
I press my lips together, unimpressed with their detective work.
“What else could she be then?” Nathan challenges me.
If Cole thinks he’s great at making lists, I’m even better when I reel off a notepad’s worth of occupations. “Yoga instructor, physiotherapist, masseuse, counselor, therapist, sailor.”
“A sailor? Shut up,” Eli scoffs, waving off my ridiculous suggestion.
I want her to be anything other than a fucking divorce lawyer because there’s no way I managed to attract someone my age who does the same job. That’s impossible.
“You don’t fucking know that. She might own a boat.” What a stupid thing for me to say. I continue with more suggestions. “A mountaineer, a rock-climbing instructor.”
Nathan sighs. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Fuck.” I scrub my palms over my face. “She said she was a desk worker.” The likelihood of her being a divorce lawyer now seems extremely high. I wish I had figured that part out myself.
“Desk worker.” Cole adds another thing to his list. “Could be a divorce lawyer.” He talks out loud as he types. “What else?” He’s fucking loving this. His analytical brain that pieces together evidence like Sherlock fucking Holmes astounds me sometimes.
I lean back in my chair and recall more details. “Blonde hair.” It was silky and long. “The hostess at the club said she had blue eyes. She took a mask by mistake, and put down on your list that she had a kid. I called her Bunny; she called me Mr. Fox.”
“This is great, we could write a fucking romance novel based on this shit,” Cole says with a huge smile painted across his lips.
Why the hell I’m entertaining them is anyone’s guess, but I need help if I want to uncover my secret stranger.
I ignore the amused looks from The Three Stooges and keep sharing more facts.
“It was her first time at The Velvet Rooms. Her perfume was called Vanilla Sex by Tom Ford. After she told me the name of the perfume, she said it matched her sex life because she’s been single for four years and abstinent for the same amount of time. ”
“Four years?” Eli asks, sounding shocked. “She’s practically a virgin.”
“You four neanderthals are disgusting.” Paige Bradshaw’s clipped tone pierces the air, bringing an end to our conversation.