Chapter 2
SARAH
Right Side of My Neck | Faye Webster
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief at the confirmation text from her bank, informing her that Mrs Bedford had transferred the final payment for her dog’s portrait. The old woman had seemed overjoyed when Sarah sent pictures of the finished work a few days before, but until the money had cleared in her account, she hadn’t dared dream that she might finally be finished with one of the more painful commissions she’d done thus far.
Winston looked almost identical to his previous iteration, but in a stroke of genius, Sarah had opted to finish the furred areas of the painting with an iridescent sealant, allowing for magical results as light caught it from different angles, without sacrificing her artistic integrity by forcing in colours that simply didn’t exist.
‘Do you need anything from the bathroom to finish getting ready?’ Abby called from her spot in front of the hall mirror, where she was applying layer after layer of red lipstick. ‘The Uber’s arriving in ten minutes, and Erik’s heading to shower.’
‘Yeah, let me grab my curling wand.’
Abby slumped into an armchair in front of her, dress wrinkling, as Sarah wound sections of her thick, dark hair around the barrel.
‘What’s Erik’s brother like? I can’t believe I’ve known you so long and never met him,’ Sarah said.
Thanks to Alex’s work schedule, they’d been hard-pressed to find an evening all four of them were free for dinner since Erik had moved back. But upon being appointed best man and maid of honour respectively, Abby had insisted Alex and Sarah finally meet, if only so Sarah could have some input into the engagement party Alex was hosting the following week.
‘I haven’t seen him much in the past few years. At Christmas, really, and a handful of times we’ve bumped into each other around town. He’s as unlikely to slum it in Ealing as I am to live it up in Holland Park, and before Erik came back, we just didn’t have much reason to hang out.’ Abby shrugged, but her voice was warm with affection as she continued, ‘He’s great though. He comes on a little strong, and he loves messing with people, but he’s fun. And kinder than he’d ever let on.
‘He’d take every opportunity to rib me when we were kids, but when it mattered, he always looked out for me. And he really, really loves his brother. They look a lot alike, actually. What was that awful thing Gregg tried to convince me would change the face of amateur photography? An HPV filter? RHD? At any rate, Alex is a little like if you ran Erik through one of those. He’s just…sharper? Blonder hair. Bluer eyes. Bit taller. Bit bulkier. Same frankly ridiculous bone structure. But where Erik stays a little rough around the edges, Alex is very smooth and polished and—’
‘Hey!’ Erik pouted, steam escaping the bathroom as he walked out, rubbing a towel over damp, messy hair.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, did you hear the words smarter, funnier, more attractive, or otherwise better in any way leave my mouth?’ Abby frowned at him over the back of her chair. It didn’t last long, her forehead smoothing when he leaned over to kiss it gently. ‘Besides,’ she said quietly, stroking his stubbled jaw, ‘I like that you’re rough.’
Normally, Sarah would remind them that she was sitting right there, and she heard enough of their sex life accidentally, without them engaging in obvious verbal foreplay right in front of her. But she was too busy analysing Erik’s face and upper body, using her skilled artist’s eye to make the changes Abby had described, until he turned into—
No.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
Sarah had grown increasingly uneasy as their Uber wound through London, memories of that night flashing through her mind. More pieces of the puzzle slotting into place along the journey. Erik had mentioned once that his brother worked in finance. A few times, upon arriving at their flat, Erik had said Alex was going out for the night. And he and Abby had certainly spoken about Alex’s playboy tendencies while at uni. A one- night stand in a club seemed par for the course in the picture that had been painted for her.
Dread settled deeper as Erik unlocked the front door and ushered them in to follow the exquisite smell coming from the kitchen. She slowed her steps before she reached the doorway, hearing a low voice greet Erik warmly and praying one last time that she was wrong, even if that voice murmuring a string of quiet fuck s against her skin was seared into her memory.
‘Hey, Squirt.’ The same voice became louder as she stepped into the kitchen and saw two strong arms wrap around Abby in a tight hug.
Then he’d looked up, and she’d found herself eye to breathtaking blue eye with the guy who had fucked her on a slightly grimy bathroom counter three months before.
Shit .
She hadn’t cared to get his name, and would it have made a difference if she had? There had to be thousands of Alexes in London. Erik barely updated his social media, and the only photos Abby had of Alex in her room were from when they were kids. She likely still wouldn’t have made the connection before today.
While she stood, frozen, trying to figure out what to say when you discovered you’d had sex with your best friend’s future brother-in-law, Alex sidestepped Abby smoothly and held out his hand.
‘Hi, I’m Alex,’ he said politely.
Sarah tried to force the images of those hands on her thighs and breasts out of her mind. They pushed back in as she unfroze and took his hand. The warmth of his skin on hers, the pressure and strength in his grip… Now her brain was steering her towards memories of that pressure around her waist as she was lifted into position.
She waited a beat longer than was appropriate to respond. He didn’t remember her. A little insulting, sure, but the club had been dark, and she’d established that their encounter wasn’t an entirely out-of-pocket thing for him to do. This was better. Maybe she could get out of this with minimal embarrassment.
‘Nice to meet you.’ She offered what she hoped was a pleasant, not at all panicked, smile. ‘Sarah.’
‘Sarah.’ Suddenly, she regretted not introducing herself at the club. Her name sounded like honey dripping off his lips. If he’d slipped it between the moans he’d pressed into her neck… She shook herself out of the memory as Alex turned back to the oven, muttering something that sounded like, ‘ Appropriate. ’
‘Where’s Celine?’ Abby asked, either oblivious to or ignoring the tension between them.
‘Upstairs,’ Alex answered, poking at something in the oven. ‘She doesn’t love new people.’ He grimaced slightly in Sarah’s direction.
Ah.
If he did remember her, he wasn’t going to address it while his girlfriend was around. So they both had a reason to keep this quiet. She could work with that.
Despite Sarah’s panic and slight awkwardness, dinner was pleasant. Abby and Alex bickered exactly like siblings. Erik ran interference occasionally, asking his brother questions about work (apparently investment banker was a real job and not just a term made-up to describe douche-bro characters on TV) and soothing his fiancée with gentle touches and kisses. But mainly he enjoyed their banter with quiet affection. When they reminisced on shared childhood memories, they took care to bring Sarah into the conversation, providing context she might have missed and profiles of some of the more colourful starring characters.
And finally, Alex’s attention shifted entirely to her.
‘How did you meet Abby?’
He took a long sip of red wine, and for the first time, she noticed a tattoo sitting below his rolled sleeve. The blur of colours and stark, inky black lines had been hidden the night they’d first met. It was a distraction she didn’t need, and she took a large gulp of her own drink before responding.
‘First day of uni orientation week, I was carefully unpacking my clothes and art supplies, deciding how best to organise my immense pile of stuff to maximise my space, when I heard a thump in the room next door. I went to investigate and found her dropping about twenty tote bags bursting with books—’
‘It was five!’ Abby exclaimed from the edge of the table.
‘—swearing as she did so. Within half an hour, Abby had occupied the entire bookshelf in our shared living room—’
‘I was doing an English degree. I needed books,’ Abby whispered.
‘I know, baby. I know.’ Erik smoothed her hair, hiding his smile in the golden mass.
‘—and a decent chunk of my heart, and by the time my actual flatmate arrived an hour later, we knew we were destined to be best friends, and we convinced the office to let us switch rooms. We’ve been inseparable ever since. And she still takes up all the bookshelf space, but I don’t mind because she keeps me well fed with her collection of historical romances.’ This, talking about one of the best days of her life, which had led to the two friendships that kept her sane, this was easy. Sarah had known immediately that her new flatmate would become a permanent fixture in her life, and when Abby had met Zoe in an English class two weeks later, she had become the perfectly balanced final member of their trio.
‘And Sarah now occupies all the extra cupboard space with her art supplies, but I don’t mind because she’s incredible, and when the art world finally wakes up and realises that, I’ll get to say, “I knew her when.”‘ Abby’s eyes sparkled with pride.
‘We are absolutely coming back to you being a chaos demon who devours five books a week but couldn’t read your uni hall assignment.’ Alex pointed towards Abby.
She flipped him off and opened her mouth to respond. Erik pulled her towards him and distracted her with butterfly kisses along her cheekbone.
Sarah was only dimly aware of the hushed whispers that moved between them as Alex leaned forwards again, his face suddenly alight with interest. ‘So you’re an artist? What kind of work do you do?’
‘Oh, she’s amazing! You’d love her work, Alex—’
Midway through her sentence, Abby let out an inelegant huff as she was dragged from her chair. Erik mumbled something about helping him get dessert ready, leaving Sarah with Alex.
Alone.
But if he wasn’t going to acknowledge their history, neither was she.
Although there was more light in those bright blue eyes than Erik’s clear grey ones, their intense stare was the same. But Sarah wasn’t used to it being levelled at her. And compared to gushing about her best friend, opening up about herself, her work, was less comfortable. The gallery wall filled with breathtaking artwork right behind Alex’s head made it worse. Her paintings of golden retrievers weren’t going to impress someone with a collection like that .
‘I work in oils, mainly. Still lifes, landscapes. But until a gallery deigns to show my real pieces, I, uh, paint pet portraits.’ The last phrase left her in a rush.
‘Pet portraits?’ His eyebrows drifted up his forehead, voice shifting back to amusement.
‘It pays the bills,’ she said stiffly, back straightening. It wasn’t meaningful work, sure, but she was making a living from painting, which was more than could be said for most of her former classmates.
‘Can I see something you’ve done?’
Sarah hesitated for a moment before pulling up her Instagram. You had to scroll pretty far back to find anything she was particularly proud of, dozens of rows on her grid filled instead with pugs, Siamese cats, and even a ferret. She’d tried a number of times to intersperse the animals with progress shots and final images of her personal projects, but it always tanked her reach for weeks afterwards. From a business perspective, not ideal.
She’d spent a year flogging pieces no one wanted to see, never mind purchase, for a handful of likes. Then she’d painted her aunt’s French bulldog as a birthday present. Engagement on that had skyrocketed, and she’d received an offer for her first commission. Work had continued to trickle in steadily, and she’d spent countless sleepless nights perfecting the way light reflected off every type of animal skin covering imaginable. Until suddenly, a year before, she’d realised she was making more from her painting than her soul-sucking office job. She’d handed in her notice the following day.
Alex’s eyebrows—annoyingly more perfect than her own—lowered as he moved through her feed. ‘Impressive technique,’ he finally said in a flat voice, handing her phone back. ‘Pity about the subject matter.’
His eyes drifted towards the kitchen door, giving Sarah a welcome reprieve from that piercing gaze. She wasn’t typically embarrassed about her work, even if it didn’t light her up. But there was a hint of disappointment in Alex’s tone that made it feel small and insignificant.
Made her feel small and insignificant.
She’d deal with why she cared what he thought later. For now, she needed her buffers back.
‘They’ve been gone a while.’
The smallest wince flashed across Alex’s face as he raised his wineglass again. ‘It happens. I try not to think too hard about what they do in this house when I’m not around.’
Sarah, admittedly, felt the same about the flat. Even if Abby had assured her that the public areas saw little more than kissing.
Before they could lapse back into an uncomfortable silence—on her end, at least. For Alex’s part, he seemed utterly relaxed. Maybe he really didn’t remember her? —Abby and Erik reappeared, carrying trays laden with coffee mugs and pudding bowls.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ Abby trilled, setting a steaming mug and a portion of apple pie with whipped cream in front of Sarah. ‘Coffee took a while.’
‘Yeah, that top-of-the-line coffee maker is notoriously slow,’ Alex said, in a smooth drawl.
Save for her cheeks turning pink, Abby pointedly ignored him, a small moan escaping her as she tried the pie.
‘Did Maggie make this?’ she asked Alex.
Was Maggie a neighbour? A loving aunt? Another girlfriend? And more importantly, why did she care ?
Alex nodded.
Abby turned to Erik. ‘Would it absolutely kill our budget to clone Maggie a few times and have the clones cater the wedding? She’s the only person I’ve met who understands the right cinnamon-to-sweetness ratio.’
‘Just how much wine have you had, Sunshine?’ Erik asked quietly, his fingers ghosting over her flushed cheek.
‘Before you resort to experimental science, have you considered nailing down a venue?’ Alex asked. He leaned back in hischair, crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps flex obnoxiously.
Sarah told herself she wasn’t noticing and tried to look away, instead stumbling into Abby and Erik sharing a look filled with so much adoration that witnessing it felt intrusive. The love clearly passing between them hurt to look at.
‘We have, actually. We found this gorgeous old country house just outside London. They’re more of a corporate venue than a wedding one, but with the right decor, it’ll be beautiful. The garden is exquisite. They had some small business’s retreat cancelled because the CEO tripped over his cat and wouldn’t manage the stairs or something. I don’t know. I kind of tuned out after they told us we could get married in eight weeks.’ Abby finished speaking with a brilliant smile, sparkling eyes still fixed on her fiancé.
Well, shit.
‘You’re going to plan a whole wedding in two months?’ Sarah asked, the cogs in her head already running through the to-do list they’d drawn up at their girls’ night the week before. The moratorium on wedding talk had lasted until one of the vampires put his shirt back on after a steamy make-out scene. Sarah was grateful now that they’d already started.
‘You know everyone’s going to think you got knocked up, right?’ Alex said. ‘Unless…’
‘Alex…’ Erik sighed, then turned back to Abby. ‘Wait, you’re not, right?’ His voice was carefully casual, but something in his eyes had lit up at the suggestion.
Sarah knew they’d discussed it. That kids were probably on the table within the next year. But she’d thought they’d be waiting a little longer.
‘Careful, man. Your breeding kink is showing,’ Alex muttered, knocking the last of his drink back.
He wasn’t wrong. If Abby herself hadn’t told her, the flush rising up her friend’s neck would be proof enough.
Sarah’s snicker was rewarded with, not a smirk, but an actual smile from Alex.
Wait.
Rewarded?
Another thought to unpack later, after—
‘Fucking hell.’ Alex dragged a hand over his face. ‘I can’t believe you two sat on that all night while we could have been planning.’ He stood smoothly and sailed from the room, already making a phone call. ‘Hey, Titan? Remember that time…’
Sarah rounded on Abby. ‘Okay, you need to send your dress board to my mum, like, tonight. We can meet her for lunch on Saturday to talk through what you want and go fabric shopping next week. You’—she turned to Erik—‘are on your own. It’s going to be bad enough turning out a wedding gown and two bridesmaids’ dresses in eight weeks. She doesn’t have a hope in hell of making and tailoring a suit in that time too.’
‘I’ve got tuxes covered,’ Alex said as he returned, thumbs flying over his phone screen. ‘I give my tailor enough business—he can squeeze us in.’ What kind of person had a tailor on call? Abby’s phone buzzed on the sideboard. Erik’s beeped in his pocket. ‘Photographer’s booked. I’ve sent you both his number. His girlfriend’s a wedding planner. He’ll put you in touch with her too.’
Abby’s mouth tightened. And if Sarah thought their earlier exchanges had been rapid, she wasn’t ready for the sudden volley of words that exploded between them.
‘Alex, we don’t need—’
‘You do, since you’ve made an absolutely insane decision. You’re not going to find anyone else even halfway decent who’s available on such short notice, Abigail.’
‘We don’t need a wedding planner. And you can’t just book a photographer without even showing us his work! It could be—’
‘He’s the best. Trust me. You’re just lucky he owes me a favour. And his girlfriend is a firecracker. You don’t have to hire her to plan the whole thing, but she knows everyone in the events industry, and she’ll be able to pull some strings for you when bakers and caterers and florists start laughing at your timeline or trying to charge you exorbitant last-minute fees.’
‘And how would you know so much about potential wedding planning snags, Aleksander?’
Whatever Abby had intended, her words hit a nerve. Alex froze, mouth already opened to snap back at her. Then, in the least graceful movement Sarah had seen him perform all night, he slumped back into his seat. ‘Just take a look at his portfolio. I think you’ll like it.’
‘Thanks, Alex,’ Erik said quietly. After having watched the sparring match impassively, he shot his brother an apologetic smile.
Sarah wondered how many similar arguments he’d witnessed in their childhood. Alex waved it off, his slightly pouty lips now pressed into a thin line.
‘So,’ Sarah began, ‘Alex is short for Aleksander?’ It was a feeble attempt at restarting the conversation, laughable when you considered that there wasn’t much else it could be short for, but it had Alex rolling his head back to her, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
His nod remained sharp and terse.
‘You don’t like it?’
‘Our parents’—he gestured at Erik—‘insisted on the traditional spellings, and no one fucking gets mine right.’
Sarah nodded slowly, tapped out after that single attempt at a subject change. Although, hey, remember that time we fucked? could certainly throw a big enough grenade to help steer the conversation away from their annoyance.
Thankfully, before her distaste for discomfort could make her blurt anything incriminating, Erik managed to resume a casual conversation with Alex, coaxing Abby back into it slowly.
Within a few minutes, the tension had lifted, and laughter was bouncing around the table again.
To someone who had grown up without siblings, the tonal shifts in the evening had been slightly bizarre.
When they called it a night half an hour later, Alex let them out, pausing for a moment with Abby and Erik, who had insisted they’d go back to Ealing so Sarah wouldn’t have to travel by herself. She appreciated the gesture, even if she was used to traversing London alone at a much later hour, but that night she would have been quite happy for some time alone to mull over her predicament. While they spoke, Sarah lingered near the coat stand, toying with the jacket she didn’t need to re-enter the balmy midsummer evening. The quiet conversation ended with a fist bump for Erik and a quick but tight hug for Abby.
He turned, expectant, the mischievous streak she had heard about but not fully encountered suddenly blazing in his eyes. Grabbing her hand as she passed, he pulled her in to kiss her cheek.
‘It was nice getting to know you.’ That voice, low and smooth in her ear, brought back memories filled with heat. ‘See you soon, Princess.’