Chapter 5
5
WESTON
I ’m dropped off in front of Park Towers—the high-rise where Easton and I have property. I returned to my penthouse at The Park after my divorce was officially filed, seeking proximity to my brother. My ex was a professional at isolating me from everyone who cared about me—something I will never allow to happen again.
The elevator soars upward like a speeding bullet. Soon, the doors are opening to the foyer of his home, nicknamed the diamond in the sky for its dazzling blue windows that sparkle at night.
As I enter, I spot Carlee perched on the small couch with a glass of wine, radiating allure in her skintight blue dress. I open my mouth, then close it again, momentarily taken aback.
“Weston. Nice seeing you again,” she says, knowing we spent the last hour together.
“The pleasure is always mine.” A devilish smirk plays on my lips at the thought of her changing clothes for me.
She thinks she’s so fucking sly, and I love it.
“Rizzing me up, Weston,” she says as I walk past her. “Appreciated. ”
I glance at Lexi, who’s grinning wide. “Sorry it took me so long. Time slipped away, as it always does.”
“That’s why I sent you. I wanted to give Carlee time to arrive,” Lexi replies, glancing between us and nodding.
I find it adorable that she believes I need assistance with Carlee. I don’t.
Easton grabs the bags from my hands, raising an eyebrow as we engage in a silent conversation. I wonder if he can detect the alcohol on my breath or catch the lingering scent of The Marquee on my clothes. It’s distinct. Maybe that’s why Carlee changed clothes.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head, cutting him off. Has he already guessed that we were together?
“You’re confirming that for me later,” he says, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
“ No , I’m not,” I murmur.
There’s no way I’ll tell him where I was. It’s my business, and while I typically share most things with him, I don’t discuss Carlee with anyone. It’s also why I’m still puzzled by that blind item. No one knows.
“You will tell me.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” I assert firmly.
I’m not ready to share whatever this is. I don’t have an explanation.
I pass Carlee as I move toward the kitchen. “How was your date?”
“The end was my favorite part,” she replies with a wink.
“I bet it was.” A current zips between us. “Too bad it didn’t work out.”
Easton studies us, and I maintain a neutral expression. Mirroring his calm demeanor always throws him off. I become unreadable.
WWED? (What would Easton do? )
She shrugs. “It’s fine. I have another date scheduled after I leave here. It’s not a huge loss.”
“Moving on so quickly?” Lexi probes, sounding almost concerned that Carlee might find the love of her life after this. “Maybe you should reschedule,” Lexi suggests, not realizing she’s literally working against me right now.
“I don’t ditch my dates,” she reminds her confidently.
“Well, I hope that one ends with a happy ending,” I quip, unable to resist the temptation to tease.
Carlee snorts. “Now, that would be a dream come true.”
“A dream, huh?” I chuckle as Easton places everything on the counter.
I wish he weren’t zeroed in on me. My brother is piecing together bits of information he’s gathered from this conversation, and I try to ignore him.
“Oh, I have a date tomorrow as well,” Carlee says excitedly as we move to the bartop.
It’s so hard not to smile, but I can’t break character with Easton so close. I hate it when he does this to me, but I continue to be a chameleon.
The chandelier glitters above us, and the city lights glow warmly as we dig into our food. Carlee sits beside me, her knee brushing against mine. Our eyes meet, and I flash her a small smile as she picks up her burger. She blushes.
I glance at my brother, and he gives me a shit-eating grin. He knows we were together. It only took him twelve minutes.
I clear my throat. “Lex, did you tell Frankie this was a dinner date?” I take a bite of my cheeseburger.
“I don’t think the word date came out of my mouth. It could have though. Is that what this is?”
I turn to Carlee. “Speaking of dates, just to be clear, you’re going on another date tonight , right?”
“Yes,” Carlee confirms.
“And people think I’m the serial dater,” I scoff .
“You are.” She snorts. “You go on several dates each week and have a secret girlfriend. I think that’s the very definition of being a serial dater, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Secret girlfriend?” Easton tilts his head, puzzled.
I haven’t had a chance to chat with him yet.
I clear my throat. “There’s a rumor circulating that I have a secret girlfriend, and the dates I’ve been going on are a cover-up to keep her hidden.”
“Is it true?” Easton questions.
“No,” I explain, “it’s not.”
His smile fades, replaced by a look of irritation. “Who would spread something like that?”
“A liar who needs to keep their fucking opinions to themselves. And if I ever find out who started this, I swear I will make their life a living hell.”
Lexi wears a concerned expression, but Carlee keeps the mood light.
“Just tell us who she is,” Carlee insists. “LadyLux would love to know.”
“There is no secret girlfriend. Unless you’re volunteering for the role,” I say.
Carlee’s breath hitches, but I catch it.
“Yes!” Lexi nods, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “That’s actually a great idea. Play into the rumors.”
“Pfft. No thanks.” Carlee takes a bite of her burger, but I see the fire behind her eyes.
I enjoy the clever comebacks that roll off her tongue.
Lexi and Easton exchange glances as I reach over and dip a fry into Carlee’s ketchup.
“Pardon me, sir. You have your own. I don’t like sharing what’s mine.” She points toward the unopened packets.
“You also don’t play nicely with others,” I quip.
She laughs. “That’s why I’m single. It’s probably why you are too. ”
“Oh, I’m very kind. Attentive. Love to please,” I insist.
Carlee nearly chokes but recovers, forcing her food down with a gulp of wine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver if necessary.
She gives me a thumbs-up while coughing. “It went down the wrong way. I’m good.”
Lexi glances between us, an amused look on her face. “You two are getting married.”
“Really?” I placate her. “How long do I have before the wedding?”
Lexi tilts her head. “You’re in phase one right now. I’m guessing it’ll be within six months.”
Carlee’s brows knit together, and her smile fades. “Wait, you’re serious.”
“Of course I am,” Lexi confirms.
Carlee bursts into laughter. “You believe I’ll marry Weston within six months? Lex, he’s not even divorced yet. Who knows how long that could take?”
“I’m working on it, my sweets,” I say, shooting her a wink. “It’s almost over. A month at max.”
I’ve fought my ex for everything she’s tried to claim, including half of the inheritance I received after marrying her. A smaller settlement might work because she’s quickly running out of money after I cut her off.
If I knew I had a real chance with Carlee, I’d pay whatever it took to rid myself of Lena. Until then, I’ll keep battling her until she exhausts herself or runs out of funds. I’d bet on the latter happening first.
“Do I need to give you a list of reasons why you’d be really great partners?” Lexi asks.
“No. And do not entertain her, Weston.” Carlee scrunches her nose, looking undeniably cute.
“Even Easton agrees with me,” Lexi interjects .
“Weston can make decisions on his own. Trust me, he knows how love works,” Easton reiterates.
“Thank you,” I say with a wide grin, lifting my hand toward my brother. “Appreciate that.”
My brother gives me a pointed look. He sees right through me. He knows there’s something more lingering between me and Carlee, and the smirk playing on his lips confirms it.
“Hmm,” he says, wiping his mouth with a napkin, cockiness still present.
“What is it?” Lexi asks.
“Just figured something out,” Easton replies, returning his attention to his wife. “But it’s not important.”
He can recognize love in me just as easily as I can in him.
“You’re not shocked by this revelation?” Carlee asks me skeptically.
“Lexi has been harping on this for months like she’s hypnotizing me into believing we’re meant to be together. It’s nothing to panic over.”
“Has it worked?” Easton asks with a chuckle.
“Don’t start,” I warn.
Carlee glares at Lexi. “I honestly thought this horrible matchmaking tactic was a joke just to patronize me.”
Her denial is adorable, and I can barely handle it.
“I’m not apologizing.” Lexi grins. “You’ll thank me later. Trust me.”
“Do you know how often you’ve told me to trust you and it’s gone horribly wrong? A handful of times, Lex. Well, over ten. You should stop with the matchmaking. At least let us become friends.”
Ah, smart girl. Carlee’s a mastermind, skillfully laying the groundwork for our friendship to be recognized, so no one will be surprised if we’re seen together. She’s cunning, and while I can see through her carefully executed moves, I appreciate that she’s making them .
“You want me to be your friend ? Hmm. I’ll need to think about that before agreeing. Seems like a commitment.”
Carlee might actually be offended. “I’m a great friend. I give amazing advice. I’m very easy … to be around. Plus, I’m pretty, and I have a sense of humor. I’m the whole package.”
She’s flirting, almost as if she knows I hang on to every word she says.
“Be careful, Weston. Every other dude she’s befriended fell madly in love with her, and it ruined the friendship,” Lexi says.
I glance at Carlee. “Is that true?”
She forces a smile. It’s not something she’s shared with me.
“It’s the truth. It’s why I’m always very hesitant to be friends with men. I quickly become their late-night fantasy. No man has ever been able to leave their emotions at the door.”
“Thankfully, I don’t have emotions.” I smirk, understanding that I’m different.
I was Carlee’s fantasy before becoming a part of her life.
She knows so much about me like she’s hacked into my brain and written things I’ve never admitted to anyone—not even my brother.
Carlee could pen a manual on me. If she did, I wonder how she’d weave together the words of our chapter. She doesn’t realize this is just the beginning.
Carlee notices I’m lost in thought. I smile at her—a genuine one.
“Yeah, that means I’d have to friend-zone you pretty hard,” Carlee says. “Hope you’re prepared for that.”
“Same. And I’m a professional, completely unbreakable,” I assure her with a laugh, but she already knows that to be true.
This statement confuses Easton because he’s reading between the lines. He knows me too well to ignore anything I say. Our minds are too similar.
Carlee bats her long lashes. “So, friends?”
“To be determined. ”
My little Firefly glows in the dark, and I grin as I focus back on my food. I’ll be her friend forever if that’s the path she chooses.
“Being friends first makes the sex so much better,” Lexi says.
My brother’s cheeks redden. Carlee notices.
“Oh my God. Calloways can blush. Good to know.”
“You’re imagining things,” he says, but he’s smiling.
Throughout dinner, Carlee and I exchange unspoken words and too many stolen glances to count as our arms brush together. I want to be closer to her.
Afterward, Lexi and Easton take the long couch. I remove my suit jacket and roll up my sleeves before joining Carlee on the other one. There’s a cushion’s width between us, but I wish there weren’t. As the movie rolls on, I’m lost in my thoughts. At the hour and fifteen minute mark, she finishes her wine and moves to the kitchen to put her glass away.
I haven’t had any alcohol since I arrived. I’m sober because I need to be. When Carlee returns, she sits beside me, and our bodies mold together.
“Who picked Titanic ? This movie is long,” she whispers as she glances down at my lips.
It would be so easy to kiss her right now as Jack draws Rose like one of his French girls.
I glance over and notice Easton and Lexi are asleep. Heat floods through me as her body presses against mine. I lean in, and my mouth traces the shell of her ear.
“We shouldn’t be this close,” I whisper as my heart thrums in my chest.
My fingers brush down her arm, causing goose bumps to trail across her skin.
“Why not?” she asks, pulling away to study me, but I can’t speak.
She’s so goddamn gorgeous that she’s stolen every word from my vocabulary—everything, even the ones in different languages.
I inch closer, and I know she’d let me kiss her. Carlee practically begs for it. I swallow hard. Her eyes close, and her breath hitches as her lips part. Fuck, I want to do this so badly that it hurts.
“You’ll have regrets,” I mutter as she inhales a ragged breath.
I watch her, and I hate being the one to constantly reject her.
“Just a test,” she whispers, creating space between us. “You passed.”
“Don’t play games with me.”
She repositions herself, resting her head on my thigh. Her eyes meet mine, and I want to run my fingers through her hair.
“Take your own advice,” she quips.
“I love a smart-ass.”
“You underestimate me.”
“I don’t,” I admit.
The intoxicating sweetness of her vanilla perfume surrounds me. I gently twist a piece of her hair around my finger. Watching this movie with Carlee so close is painful, and we still have over an hour left.
Leonardo says something, but I don’t hear a word as I lose myself in my thoughts.
I almost kissed her.
I wanted to so fucking badly as her warm breath brushed against my skin.
Would she have kissed me back or ended our friendship because it got too real?
Now, I’m unsure.
When the credits roll, I double-check that Lexi and Easton are still sleeping. Their breathing is steady. They’ve become the typical old couple who are in bed by ten. I knew they wouldn’t make it through Titanic .
I take the opportunity to meet her eyes as the TV casts a blue glow in the room.
“It’s the look again,” she murmurs as she sits upright.
Our mouths are dangerously close once more .
“Don’t test me,” I warn.
She inches forward, and our breaths mix. I think she might do it, but she smiles instead.
“Right back at you, bestie.”
Carlee stands, smirking, completely addicted to the chase, as if she gets high off it. I study just how fucking beautiful she is in that dress that hugs her gorgeous body.
Quietly, she tiptoes over to Easton and Lexi, then kneels down until she’s face-to-face with Lexi.
“Lex, I’m gonna go,” Carlee whispers, shaking her.
“Huh? Oh. Shit. Okay. Why are you so close to me?” Lexi backs away, and Easton tightens his grip on her.
“I love you,” Carlee tells her, squeezing her tightly. “Let’s have lunch soon and catch up.”
“Deal,” Lexi says, sitting upright. Her hair is a mess. “Have fun on your date.”
“I will,” Carlee tells her, standing.
“Good night,” Easton says, but there’s something more behind his sleepy gaze as it flicks between us. He’s trying to read me again.
“Night.”
I turn to Carlee, sliding on my suit jacket. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks,” she offers.
In the elevator, neither of us speaks. We don’t descend to the ground floor, but to the garage my brother and I share. I turn on the lights, and her eyes widen.
“You own these?” she asks, her fingers gliding over the sleek vintage cars.
She glances admiringly at the white Mustang parked nearby, and memories of when I stole this car during our matchmaking days flood me. I pretended to be Easton then cleverly delivered Lexi to him.
“Most are Easton’s, but I have access to everything,” I reply as I move toward the locker, placing my fingerprint on the pad. It clicks open .
I remove the keys from the hook, but Carlee hesitates.
“It’s too risky to leave together.”
I smirk. “It’s midnight. We’re safe.”
I open the gear cabinet, replacing my suit jacket with a riding coat. I pull Lexi’s gear from the closet and hand it to Carlee, along with a plain helmet. They’re the same size.
“This should fit.”
“Weston,” she whispers, but she takes the items from me.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, moving to the motorcycle.
I climb onto it, start the engine, and then lower my helmet over my head.
“If we’re caught together, it could spark more rumors. That’s the last thing you need,” she urges, her voice laced with concern.
I flip the visor upward to meet her eyes. She hasn’t moved an inch.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes, but?—”
“But nothing.” I point to the bathroom door. “Change in there, then join me.”
She sighs dramatically. “If I get labeled as your secret girlfriend, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Carlee steps into the bathroom, and my phone buzzes with a text.
Easton
The confirmation I needed.
Weston
Go to bed, old man.
Easton
I knew it. You were together earlier tonight.
I shake my head at the screen.
Weston
Shut the fuck up.
Easton
Lexi said six months. I give it four.
I glance up at the camera in the corner of the room and flip him off.
Seconds later, Carlee emerges from the bathroom, now wearing a black leather bomber jacket and fitted pants. I can’t help but notice her high heels.
“You look like Catwoman.”
She grins. “Does that make you Batman?”
“Considering the lore between those characters, it’s plausible.” I climb off the bike and grab her a pair of boots and socks. “Can you wear these? Size eight?”
“Yes,” she replies.
I drop to my knees before her. Carefully, I push the pant leg up and untie the ribbon laced around her leg. Carlee holds onto my shoulder as she balances on one foot. My fingers trail up her calf, unwrapping her like she’s my gift as she hangs on to me.
The moment grows heated, and she glances away. “Please tell me that’s not a camera.”
“It is,” I say, a smirk playing on my lips.
“Weston,” she hisses.
“Easton is the only one who has the feed, and he’ll shut the hell up,” I say loudly enough for him to hear if he’s still snooping.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and Carlee glares at me though she remains silent.
This is incriminating.
Once I lace up her boots, I stand, locking eyes with her. My thumb brushes across her cheek as I hand her the helmet. “You’re so pretty.”
“Hush,” she whispers, placing it on her head .
We return to the bike, and I remove the kickstand before she climbs onto the back.
“Move closer and hold on.”
Without hesitation, she does exactly what I said. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
I reach behind me and place my hand on her thigh. “Don’t let me go.”
“I don’t plan on it,” she replies.
I grin, feeling an overwhelming joy that she can’t see. “This is the best way to explore the city, especially at night when there isn’t much traffic. Ready?”
Her breasts press against my back as she hugs me tight. “I think so.”
I give the engine some gas, and then we take off. The garage door lifts, and we escape out the back entrance onto a quiet side street.
“What’s the Batman and Catwoman lore?” she asks as I focus on the road ahead.
Our helmets are connected with microphones, and I can hear her clearly.
I smile. “They’re two damaged individuals, trying to survive. She always brings Bruce back to reality, making him feel centered and present.”
“Oh. And what does Batman do for her?”
“He inspires her to be a better version of herself. His goodness motivates her. Their relationship isn’t stable because they’re so different, yet so alike. The push-and-pull is intense. But don’t be fooled. Catwoman is the anti-hero.”
“Of course she is,” Carlee responds with a chuckle.
“At its core, it’s a love story about two flawed people with a very deep connection who have an even deeper understanding of the other. But they’re always chasing their love, and they’re never able to settle down. ”
“Catwoman is obsessed with the chase too then?” she asks, squeezing me a little tighter.
I’m so freaking glad she can’t hear my heart racing.
“I guess you could say they both are,” I explain.
We ride in silence. The roar of the engine bounces off the tall buildings as we zoom down the empty streets.
“How long have you been riding?” she asks.
“You don’t know? That’s shocking.”
“I don’t know everything about you,” she admits.
“Do you want to?”
“Yes,” she whispers, sending emotions flooding through me.
“And what if you don’t like what you learn?” I ask.
“What if I love it?” she counters.
I hold on to her thigh as we cruise beneath the city lights.
“This is amazing,” she says. “It’s freeing.”
“Being with you always is.”
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at Sluggers, and I pull close to the front entrance.
“Don’t take your helmet off until you’re inside,” I instruct.
“Do you think we were followed?” She hasn’t let go of me yet.
“No. But we can never be too safe. I’ll enter from the back and meet you inside.”
Carlee slides off the bike.
My eyes roam up and down her body, and I take the opportunity to drink her in. She places her hands on her hips.
“Are you eye-fucking me?” I ask.
She laughs. “No.”
Lie.
“I’ll see you in five minutes.”
“Okay,” she says, and I can tell she’s smiling.
When she’s out of sight, I drive around to the back and keep my face covered until I take the private entrance I pay the owner to use.
When I enter the bar, I remove my helmet and immediately relax upon seeing Carlee. It’s dark and dimly lit, and a group of older gentlemen are drinking pitchers of beer in the back corner.
Sluggers is safe for us for now. I’m trying to treasure it because I know it won’t be one day. I plop down on the stool next to her. The bartender slides two shots of tequila in front of us, and we pick them up.
“To dating and dumping,” she says, her signature motto.
We clink our glasses together, and she shakes off the booze.
“I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow.” She sighs.
“For your sake, I hope you don’t,” I offer.
“Want another shot before we part ways?” she asks.
“No,” I reply, turning toward her, not wanting the night to end. I lower my voice. “Come home with me.”
She tilts her head, studying me intently. The eye contact is almost too intense.
I laugh, though I can feel the electricity streaming between us. “My intentions are always pure. At least with you.”
She shoots me a mischievous grin. “Sure they are, Calloway.”
I won’t make the first move. Ever.
If that line is crossed, the timing has to be perfect, and she has to initiate it without a drop of liquid courage. Until then, we’ll continue this charade.
“But I really can’t go home with you. I’m sorry. I have to be at work early in the morning. Like, in five hours.”
I nod, pulling my wallet from my pocket. “I get it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she says, twisting in her stool to face me. “But thank you. This was fun.”
We hold each other’s gaze.
“Always is,” I say just as she yawns. “I’ll take you home.”
She smiles, a warmth spreading across her face. “Thanks for keeping my date-and-dump tradition alive.”
“Of course. What are friends for?”