5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Samantha
Staying with Nate reminded me of my childhood—and not in a good way.
He was perfectly nice. Welcoming, really. But the Wells brothers had always been that way. They’d never asked when I was going home, or why I was over at their house for the thousandth day in a row.
Nate’s condo was nice. Slightly larger than Adrian’s, with three bedrooms and an open-concept living area, and professionally designed for comfort and serenity.
The walls were a pale gray, and the art was muted.
His kitchen was a creamy white with a large, marble-topped island he only used for making smoothies in the morning and a quick, easy bite at night.
He was most often in the living area or his bedroom—which I hadn’t set foot in, contrary to my awkward request a couple nights ago. The sectional was large and cushy, easy to sink into or curl up and fall asleep on if I were a little more comfortable.
It wasn’t Nate’s fault I couldn’t fully relax. He wasn’t looking at me sideways for using his kitchen or leaving my shoes by his door. But I couldn’t help feeling like I was seconds from overstaying my welcome.
I had been born with baggage, and I carried it everywhere.
That feeling only went away at Adrian’s condo two floors down and my townhouse a few blocks over.
But Adrian was still recovering, so I continued pushing my discomfort aside to be with him, taking duty while Nate was at work during the day then switching when I left for the club at night. Neither of us trusted his brother to be on his own. Adrian was trouble like that.
That his recovery had been hellish didn’t help.
I would have thought it served him right for ignoring his appendix until it burst, but I couldn’t possibly revel in his level of pain.
He still had a drain in his abdomen, and a nurse visited every day to administer fluids and antibiotics.
Standing up straight was a struggle, and he only stayed awake for short spans before tuckering back out.
He couldn’t bear doing nothing, though, and had finally convinced me to help him out to the living room so we could take a meeting with our realtor, Linda.
Half-propped on a mountain of pillows, he followed Linda on the screen of my computer as she walked through a building he was interested in, showing us every nook and cranny. Adrian was frowning when we ended the call, but he did that half the time anyway.
“What did you think?”
He lifted a shoulder and grunted. “I’m more interested in zoning restrictions. We can make what we want from almost any building.”
“Are you sure now is the right time to open a second club?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why? Do you think I’m going to be down and out forever?”
I snorted. “No. I know very well you won’t allow yourself to be in this condition for any longer than necessary.
I’m more concerned with the state of the world.
We’re flying under the radar now. If we open a club in California, we’ll have more eyes on us, and the last thing we want is the general public putting their two cents in. ”
It was astounding to me society had become more prudish as time went on. I would have thought the opposite to be true—consenting adults engaging in sex in a private place being nothing to blink at.
These days, people got their panties in a wad over everything.
Adrian and I had been lucky. Mile High Club had gone unbothered since we’d opened a few years ago, but our days being numbered stayed in the back of my mind.
It was only a matter of time before we’d be called on to defend our right to exist.
“The general public.” His lip curled. “Everyone fucks. Why do people care who anyone is fucking and how they’re doing it? I’ll never understand.”
“I’m glad neither of us will ever understand.” I’d hate for my mind to ever be that small. What a terrible life.
“Speaking of small minds”—he paused for effect—“I’m surprised Douche isn’t hovering over you. Surely he disapproves of you sleeping under the same roof as two boys.”
I rolled my eyes. Yes, Will would have had a problem with me staying at Nate’s, no doubt about it. But Adrian knowing that as well as I did annoyed me.
“Will isn’t hovering because we broke up.”
His eyes narrowed. “Since when? That night at my place is mostly a blur, but him dragging you out of my room by your hair is clear as day.”
I barked a laugh. “That’s your fantasy, not mine.”
He nudged my thigh with his foot. “The day I fantasize about you and Douche is the day I dig my own grave and lie down in it.”
“You can put down the shovel.” I sighed, letting my head fall back on the couch cushion. “We’re really through.”
Adrian pumped his fist. “Yes!” Then he immediately cleared his throat, wiping the victorious smile off his face. “I mean, that’s too bad. I’ll miss that guy very much.”
“Shut up. If you didn’t already look so pathetic, I would slug you.”
He smirked. “Save it for when I’m better. I can take it. It’s not like your tiny little fists will do any damage.”
I waved my hands around menacingly. “I don’t have tiny hands, sir. I can palm a basketball if I put my mind to it.”
My extreme lack of athleticism and hand-eye coordination putting a stop to any attempt to do so went without saying. Adrian had been around for middle school PE. He’d seen me tripping over my own feet with his own two eyes.
He caught one of my hands, enfolding it in his. “Fine, they’re not tiny, but they’re not exactly threatening either. Your fingers are like knitting needles.”
I laughed, tearing my hand from his. “Go jump off a bridge. You’re so mean.”
He grinned back at me. “Knitting needles are useful, Sam. There’s no shame in that.”
I would have flipped him off, but then he’d laugh at my absurdly long middle finger, and I wasn’t giving him any more ammo.
His smile slipped away before I could come up with a response that wouldn’t get me roasted.
“Shit.”
I sat up straight. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
He waved me off. “Calm down, Mother Hen. I’m in no more pain than I was a minute ago.”
“So, you are in pain. You admit it.”
His chin went up. “Never. Besides, I’m not the topic at hand. We’re going to talk about you and the fact that you no longer have a date to Smelly’s wedding.”
I instantly deflated but still took the time to admonish him. “You have to stop calling her Smelly. One of these days, I’m going to slip up and call her that too.”
An eyebrow winged. “I’m not seeing the problem. Dear Kelly deserves to be called worse.”
“She’s my sister. I’d rather keep the peace over gaining momentary satisfaction.” My head fell forward into my palms. “Crap. I wasn’t even thinking of the wedding. Now I’m going to have to go without a buffer. That’s just…”
A nightmare.
My younger sister, Kelly, was getting married next weekend in Silver Springs. I had no doubt she wouldn’t have minded if I missed the festivities, but then there would be questions from the guests, and no one wanted that.
And I…well, I was determined to go.
At least I had been when I knew I’d have Will by my side.
My dad would have taken one look and recognized him as the golfing, vest-wearing finance bro he was.
A respectable young man with a mainstream job that would have made up for my shortcomings.
Or blurred them to the background for the weekend.
Now, it would be just me—the black sheep sex club manager who couldn’t keep a man to save her own life.
“I’ll go with you,” Adrian stated firmly. “I’m not letting you walk in there by yourself.”
“I would take you up on your offer in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to be well enough for a road trip and weekend of wedding activities.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t. Besides, I need a buffer, not a stick of dynamite.”
There was no way Adrian would hold back for an entire weekend around my family. We’d had too many instances of him firing off when things got prickly to believe he’d be able to behave himself for the whole weekend.
“Then you won’t go.” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re not going alone, Sam. They’ll eat you alive.”
“They’re not so bad.”
“They’re worse.” His jaw rippled. “You’re not going.”
“I am.” I folded my arms over my chest, sickness twisting in my gut. I couldn’t exactly say why I was so determined other than they were my family. If I didn’t attend, I might as well cut ties altogether.
Adrian’s voice in my head said, “Hell yes!” to that idea, but I couldn’t do it.
The front door swung open in the middle of us arguing, and Nate strolled in, a distracted crinkle in his brow. He placed his messenger bag on the kitchen island, his gaze ping-ponging over us in the living room.
“You got him up?” he asked.
“He forced me to.”
Adrian scoffed. “The two of you are a pair of mother hens, I swear. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself out of bed.”
We both knew he could get out of bed. Once he was out, though, getting himself upright was questionable. The doctors had had to make a large incision in his abdomen to clean out all the infection, and his recovery was slow going.
Nate came into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked tired. Completely worn out. The bags under his eyes were carrying bags.
I wondered if he’d had a hard day or if this was the product of another sleepless night.
He was always awake when I got home from work, which was usually well after two a.m., then he was up with the rising sun to go for a run before spending the day in the office. I didn’t think he ever got a full night’s sleep. Some nights, I doubted he slept at all.
“What are you up to?” Nate perched on the opposite end of the couch from us.
“We had a meeting with our realtor and—”
Adrian cut me off with a snap of his fingers. “This is perfect.”
I whirled around to look at him. “I don’t like your tone. You’re up to something.”
“Shut up.” He waved me off, turning his attention to his brother. “You’ll go with Sammie to her sister’s wedding.”
My heart fluttered even as I said, “No.”
Nate inhaled sharply through his nose. “What are you talking about?”
Adrian pushed himself slightly more upright, grimacing the whole time. “Douche and Sammie broke up.”
“Will,” I translated for Nate. “Will and I broke up.”
“Ah.” Nate nodded. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought. I think that means I’m not heartbroken.”
I should have cared a little, right? We’d been together for six months. That wasn’t nothing. But I truly hadn’t thought about Will at all over the last week. Had I been that detached, or was I so used to breakups my mind and heart moved on without any effort on my part?
I wasn’t sure either option was great.
“Sam needs a date to her ghastly sister’s wedding,” Adrian went on. “Her family treats her like Cinderella. They’re much better behaved when there are witnesses.”
“They’re fine. Really,” I said.
“How did I get brought into this?” Nate asked.
“I’d do it, but Sam’s forbidden me.” Adrian sneered. “She says I’ll make things worse.”
“That’s true, but mainly, it’s that you’re in no condition to go anywhere.” I turned back to Nate. “Ignore him. He’s high on pain medication and has no idea what he’s saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Adrian proclaimed. “This is the best idea I’ve had in a long time. Your family couldn’t possibly have anything negative to say about Nathan Wells. He’ll blind them with his manners and dashing good looks.”
Nate’s gaze toggled between me and Adrian. “I see what you’re saying about the pain medication. Is his dose too high?”
I snickered. Who knew Nate could be funny? “I’ll let you two hash it out. I need to get dressed for work.” I stood, smoothing my sweats over my legs, and smiled at Nate. “Two a.m. nachos?”
He tipped his head back, the corners of his mouth hitching. “How could I miss them?”