Chapter 7
SARAH
gold rush | Taylor Swift
‘Dining room,’ Alex called back.
He couldn’t be oblivious to the way Sarah had seized up at the sound of her best friend’s voice, but despite the footsteps coming closer, the little shit was still hovering over her. He peeled back seconds before Abby walked through the door.
Her entrance had saved Sarah from making an utterly terrible mistake. Because she did think about that night. Thought about how well his body had fit with hers. How good that first kiss had been. How his hand had curved perfectly around the back of her neck. Other things, that came to her when she needed a reminder that she was desirable.
And with his solid, warm body leaning over hers, she might have caved to the temptation to kiss him.
‘Alex,’ Abby said again, ‘before people start arriving, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Good evening, Abigail. How are you doing? Welcome to my home. Oh, no, there’s no need to thank me for hosting a beautiful engagement party for you. It’s absolutely my pleasure.’
Her face scrunched into a scowl. ‘Thank you for throwing a beautiful engagement party for me and your brother . Don’t be an ass about it.’
Alex laughed, and there was something strange about it. It wasn’t quite the burst of noise from earlier, but still something warmer and markedly different from the charm he’d used on the woman at the stationery shop. ‘What’s up, Squirt?’
She took a deep breath before letting her words tumble out. ‘I know it’s borderline impossible for you not to charm the pants off most women you meet’—over Abby’s shoulder, Alex’s eyes flicked to Sarah, then back before his lapse in attention was noticed—‘but I would greatly appreciate it if you refrain from breaking the heart of anyone who is going to attend my wedding.’
So.
She’d been right to peg him as a playboy.
Alex’s eyes hardened. ‘I make my intentions very clear—’
‘I know, hun. I also know that every woman you hook up with takes one look at those eyes and that smirk and those dimples and thinks, “I can change him.” And it’s not your fault, but I would like to avoid an incident at my wedding.’
A further reminder that kissing her best friend’s future brother-in-law was a terrible idea.
Sarah promised herself that her resolve wouldn’t crumble as she locked her gaze with those deep blue eyes again.
Told herself she wasn’t disappointed as Alex said, irritation coating his voice, ‘I’ll do my best.’
Much to Sarah’s frustration, her eyes fell on Alex again and again over the course of the evening, as he moved from dancing to conversation and occasionally freshening a guest’s drink—including one of Abby’s uni friends Sarah had never much cared for, who had giggled hysterically.
Sarah blamed his loud, obnoxious laugh, audible even above the hum of conversation and music. It was like a beacon, demanding everyone focus on him. When she spied him slipping out of the living room to head upstairs, that annoyingly pretty brunette he’d handed a glass to following soon after him, she scoffed. He could at least attempt to be subtle.
Turning her attention back to the shelf of art books in front of her, Sarah found herself wishing to discover something hideously embarrassing. Something concrete she could judge him for. But sadly, his shelves were as well-adorned as his walls. Their book collections actually shared some similarities. And just like her Van Gogh biography—she would read it one day —his copy was pristine.
She’d wondered if the artworks on display were his own purchases, or paintings he’d had someone select for décor and status purposes. The books added to the image, certainly, particularly given they seemed untouched, but they’d also been organised the same way she would have. By artist, period, movement, rather than any care for aesthetics.
‘Is this your Lizzie Bennet seeing Pemberley moment?’ Zoe asked, sidling up to her. Sarah drew her hand back from the shelf as if she’d been shocked. ‘Changing your mind about him now that you’re hanging out in his nice house?’
‘Actually, her changing attitude towards him after visiting Pemberley is—’
‘Oh, please not again. I forgot what a hot button that is for you. It was a joke, babe.’ Zoe linked their arms. ‘It is lovely though. And a house . Imagine life without hearing the Eastenders theme tune floating through your walls.’
Sarah grunted in agreement. A week after quitting her job to paint full time, she’d ordered the best noise-cancelling headphones she could find in an attempt to drown out her retired neighbour’s TV.
Her eyes danced over the room again, and as before, they landed on him. Huh. His rendezvous couldn’t have been great if he was already back. He was standing next to one of Erik’s co-workers now, chatting animatedly. The tattoo on his left forearm flexed obscenely where he leaned it on the mantle. She hadn’t quite figured out what it was yet, although the work was beautiful. Shapes swirling together in a maelstrom of colour that calmed her despite their chaos.
‘His en suite is very nice, in case you were thinking about continuing your little tradition,’ Zoe said from next to her.
‘Zo, you snooped in his bathroom ?’ Despite her shock, Sarah couldn’t tear her eyes from him to properly admonish her friend.
‘His bedroom door was open.’ Zoe’s voice was innocent. ‘It was very tidy, by the way. That’s a green flag in a man.’ It would be appealing to her famously messy friend.
‘He has a housekeeper,’ Sarah muttered, going rigid as Alex turned to look at her. Even with a room full of bodies between them, his eyes were piercing, and her face warmed at being caught staring unabashedly. It looked as if he excused himself from his conversation, then—
Shit. Shitshit shit .
Sarah tried to grab Zoe’s wrist, desperate for her to stay, sure her easy manner could make the coming encounter less awkward, but she merely winked as she stepped away. ‘You made your bed. Lie in it. Maybe have your great sex in it , this time.’
And then, Zoe’s petite frame was replaced by all of Alex’s bulk. Somehow he had acquired a fresh glass of wine on his way over, and she grabbed it reflexively when he held it out. Alcohol could only make this more bearable. His whiskey glass clinked against it.
‘Cheers, Princess.’
And for the second time that day, that awful nickname had Sarah squaring her shoulders, considering him with a tilt of her head. Getting flustered and anxious over a guy? That wasn’t her. Alex had agreed to keep their secret. Beyond that, he was no more intimidating than any other shamelessly flirty fuckboy. And those she knew how to handle.
‘Cheers, Aleksander.’
Engaging in his game was the only way she’d win.
‘You know, it’s practically tradition for the best man and the maid of honour to hook up after the wedding. In case you were eager for a repeat of that night.’ Alex’s voice was a slow, smooth drawl.
Sarah smiled sweetly. ‘I don’t do hook-ups at weddings.’
It was a rule she’d held for most of her adult life. Emotions ran too high at weddings. There was too much desire to find love, romance, making even the barest connection feel charged. That rule had been followed for years.
Until Gregg.
And hadn’t that led to a complete waste of fifteen months of her life.
‘Why is that?’ Alex sounded amused. ‘Don’t tell me you need to have feelings for someone before you fuck them? It’s a cute idea, but I think we both know it’s not true.’
‘No, I just think that if I’m giving someone a pity fuck’—she glanced around them, ensuring no one was near enough to hear—‘the least they can do is pay for my alcohol first.’
A groove popped in Alex’s cheek at her tone. She’d thought Abby was joking about the dimple. Sarah didn’t have many physical weaknesses in men—she found them attractive overall, but women’s bodies had far more features to recommend them aesthetically—but a good dimple… It did things to her.
‘That’s interesting, considering you didn’t even let me offer to buy you a drink before your tongue was down my throat. Or before you were shamelessly grinding against me in public. Or before you let me lift you onto that sink.’ Alex lowered his voice when he saw her eyes dart again. ‘Don’t worry, Princess. I can be very discreet.’
She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice her nerves. So she patted his cheek, letting attitude cloak her anxiety once more. Ignoring the sparking sensation in her skin as it touched his. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, pretty boy. You weren’t intended to be a pity fuck. You were in the right place at the right time. I needed to get off, and you could help.’
There was some truth to that, even if it was wholly underselling the situation. She’d had sex a handful of times since her breakup, not quite at her usual level of comfort during any of those encounters. But somehow, even with his cocky demeanour and an appearance sewn together entirely of red flags, Alex had made her feel safe that night. If she hadn’t been out with Zoe, she might have gone home with him after all. She had needed to get off, but she hadn’t realised how much she’d needed an actual human being to handle her body with care and act like it brought them as much pleasure as it did her until Alex had done exactly that.
Discerning blue eyes cut right to the heart of her. ‘Sure. Well, the offer stands. Then…or before.’
Unwilling to entertain the memories that had kept her company more than once in the intervening months—not when he was right there—Sarah fell onto her strongest defence. ‘Abby just asked you not to hook up with anyone who would be at her wedding.’
‘No. She asked me not to break the heart of anyone who might be at the wedding. You’re not in danger of getting your heart broken, are you? Not since you’ve made it clear it was just physical.’
He had her there. And it had been good .
Thankfully, Alex spoke again before she could reminisce. ‘But even if you’re going to hold out on me there, we should get to know each other. Less…biblically.’
She really hated that smirk. Almost as much as the twinkle in those stupidly bright eyes.
‘Why? It’s not like we’re friends.’
It was feigned, sure, but that made the wince that flashed across his face no less satisfying. ‘You know how to hurt a man. But I’m sure we’re going to be seeing each other plenty in the lead up to the wedding. It wouldn’t hurt.’
Sarah tossed her hair and raised an eyebrow, reminding herself that she could play and engage with his bullshit all she wanted, but ultimately she needed to stay on his good side. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘How did you get into art? When did you start painting?’
She’d been expecting something obnoxious. More flirting, barely disguised as polite conversation. Not an attempt to know more about her. It caught her off guard enough that she simply started speaking.
‘Art’s been there as long as I can remember, I guess. My mum’s a seamstress, so she always had drawing stuff around. While she was getting her business off the ground, she worked long hours and weekends, so I hung out at the studio a lot before I was old enough to stay home alone. She would put me in a corner with paper and pencils while she dealt with clients. And I fell in love. What about you? Did you always know you wanted to help large corporations amass stupid amounts of wealth?’
Everything about Alex’s answering smile made her seethe. ‘Actually, Judgy McJudgeface, I studied art history,’ he said.
That she hadn’t expected. So, the collection on the walls possibly was made up of his selections. And, like with him making the perfect choice for the invites, she hated that she had to respect him a little more because of it.
‘I didn’t know what I wanted to do with it. But after my GCSEs, I knew I wanted to learn more. Then I left uni and realised I didn’t have the connections to go anywhere in the art world or any real, marketable skills for any other industry. So if I wanted to eat, I needed to find a job that would take someone with an arts degree and an immeasurable amount of charm. I talked my way into an entry level finance job and worked my way up. And yes, I’ve been helping big corporations amass stupid amounts of wealth ever since. Along with amassing my own.’
He gestured vaguely to the room around them. Despite his cool, confident tone, it didn’t sound like a brag. Combined with a tilt of his head to stare into the depths of his drink, there was a detachment to him that almost came across…sad.
‘But hey, all that money means I can purchase a shit ton of art, so that’s a win, right? If nothing else, I’ve bought my way into those spaces I used to dream about.’
Because that was the way in, wasn’t it? She’d pitched her work to so many galleries and received the same rejection each time: they didn’t have the capacity to include an unknown artist. But they’d be happy for her to buy out the space for a period to do her own show. Something—some glimmer of rationality in the back of her mind, hanging on by a thread as it threatened to fall victim to her third glass of wine—stopped her from commiserating with him about the cruel structure of the fine art world. They didn’t need to bond over this. Over anything. Being her best friend’s almost brother was more than enough of a relationship for them to share.
Before her wine-addled brain could make any decisions she would regret, she sent a glance towards the guests of honour, who were nominally engaged in a group conversation, but seemed more focussed on each other than anything being said.
‘I’m gonna call it a night.’ She downed the rest of her glass before swiping through her phone, quickly calling an Uber. ‘I’m assuming those two aren’t going anywhere. Will you tell them I’ve left?’
‘You know, they wouldn’t notice if you came upstairs now.’ Alex lowered his voice unbearably. ‘You were coming back here in the morning anyway. Saves you a trip.’
And then, Sarah snapped. ‘You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that? I’ve let you carry on with the flirting and innuendo. I was prepared to ignore you hooking up with one of Abby’s friends in the middle of the party, despite what she asked you. But you’re seriously trying to get me to fuck you less than an hour later?’
Amusement filled Alex’s eyes. ‘You’ve been watching me.’
‘You’re a loud, braying ass who’s impossible to ignore,’ Sarah shot back. ‘Try to be a little more subtle next time you screw one of your future sister-in-law’s friends.’
She realised her mistake as a smile spread across his face, sharp and seductive.
‘Oh, I will,’ he said. ‘But for your peace of mind, I went to check on Celine. She—I didn’t even get her name—cornered me and propositioned me. I said no. She went into the bathroom to freshen up. I came back downstairs.’
That explained how he’d reappeared so quickly. Irritation still flickered through her. She’d shown her hand by letting him know she’d been noticing his whereabouts. She wasn’t even touching the fact that part of her had, ever so briefly, considered saying yes to him. ‘Even so, what part of not happening did you not understand?’
She crossed her arms, and Alex’s lips twitched in response. Though surely she imagined the way they tightened slightly when her phone buzzed in her hand.
‘I’ll walk you out.’
‘No, you won’t.’ Sarah was already stomping towards the front hall. She’d text Zoe from the car to tell her she’d left.
‘There’s a trick with the front door.’ Of course Alex was right behind her, because his eight-mile-long legs seemed to take one step for every five of hers. He hovered at the door while she found her bag in the jumble of coats on the rack, then opened the front door effortlessly, no tricks needed. Her responding glare was met with a shrug.
‘You look gorgeous tonight,’ he murmured as she walked past. ‘And Princess?’ Alex laid a hand on her arm. ‘I’ll remind you I paid for all the alcohol you drank. And I can live with you pitying me.’
His reference to their conversation inside hit her as she touched the door to her Uber, and when she turned back, hating herself as she did, she found him leaning against the doorframe, looking smug as hell. Then the fucker winked , and she flung herself into the car.
Less than a minute later, her phone buzzed again.
Alex: Let me know when you’re home.