13. Indie
THIRTEEN
Indie
I ’m not nearly as drunk as Brooks’ worried gaze is insinuating. His hands tangle in mine as I try to pry his well-fitted Wranglers down his mouth-watering thighs.
“Indie, stop,” his deep voice commands.
I sit back on my haunches, furrowing my brows in an exaggerated pout.
A breeze blows through the bathroom window, and the playful conversation around the bonfire below filters into our private moment.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve only had three glasses of wine—child’s play compared to the night at the bar. You’re not taking advantage of me. Now, move your hands.”
His hands drop, but only so he can push his knuckle under my chin, lifting my eyes back to his since they fell to his crotch the moment I could resume my work.
“You’re going to be the death of me, red.”
I let a wicked smile take over my face.
If I’m his death, he’s my undoing.
The three glasses of wine were enough to let my guard down and beg Taylor to drag this man to me. Being the amazing friend she is, she didn’t bat an eyelash at my request; she simply walked out of the upstairs bathroom to find my conquest.
I shove him back against the counter and return to revealing my prize. He promised me a taste the other night, but by the time we fucked each other’s brains out, I didn’t have it in me.
“Finally,” I breathe the moment his cock pops free, hard, and veiny.
It’s heavy in my hand, the velvet skin soft beneath my stroking grip. Leaning in, I twirl my tongue around the purple head. Enjoying the way, he twitches and grows harder at the attention. I moan when I take him deep into my mouth.
His hiss of pleasure spurs me on to give him my best performance yet.
Meanwhile, my pussy throbs in protest while being excluded, trying to distract me from the rhythm my mouth and hand have found. Wetness coats my inner thighs, and I squirm my naked pussy against my leg, trying to quell the ache.
“Damn woman, did you go to cock sucking school, or do all women from California give head like you?”
I pop off his dick and wipe the saliva from my lips. “I know that was a compliment, but if you want me to keep teeth out of the equation, maybe don’t bring other women into the conversation while praising me, okay?”
His lips part to respond, but the bathroom door handle jiggles before a harsh pounding starts.
I whip my head in its direction, scanning the lock to see if he did, in fact, lock the door behind him.
“Brooks! Yo, you in there?”
My eyes widen, and I hide my chuckle behind my clenched fist. The handle jiggles again, and I wonder why this guy’s so pressed to try and make it into the bathroom if he thinks Brooks is in here.
Finally, the man in question breaks the awkward silence. “Yeah, Travis, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Your date?” I whisper up at him, and he answers my obnoxious question with an eye roll.
Brooks reaches over and flips on the water as if pretending to wash his hands. I use the distraction to take him back in my mouth with renewed vigor.
“Dick move, inviting me here, then disappearing,” Travis continues.
I snort unladylike around his cock, and he jolts forward down my throat, gagging me around his length. I don’t know if it’s my skill, our looming time limit, or that his buddy’s on the other side of a piece of plywood, but Brooks loses his shit.
His hips shove into me, taking charge of the tempo.
I give up, releasing his shaft and holding tight to his thighs for balance as he takes his pleasure for himself.
“Are you going to swallow for me, red? Or do you want me to come all over your tits so you can wear me the rest of the night?”
I’m debating the question in my head, but I couldn’t answer if I wanted to with my mouth full. I dig my nails into his ass instead. It takes him by surprise and sends him over the edge. He jerks against my tongue; his hot seed coats my throat as I swallow his release down.
Brooks slumps back against the counter, his cock pulling free from between my lips.
I sit back, staring up with a giant smile plastered on my face.
His thumb swipes against my bottom lip, cleaning me free from the left-over mess, and I capture it with my lips. He’s salty in the most delectable way. His softening dick twitches, but another pound against the bathroom door breaks our moment.
He tucks himself away and offers me a hand up from the ground.
We both gaze down at my naked body.
Well, shit.
“You can go deal with your friend,” I whisper. “I’ll just…” I break off, looking around the room for something to cover up with. My only options are a very tiny floral hand towel or the now-ruined romper on the other side of the room.
I follow his fingers as they work the buttons free from his flannel. He shucks it off, holding it out to me. “Put this on.”
It’s not quite long enough to be mistaken for a dress around the party, but it’s enough to escape from the bathroom down the hall to Taylor’s old bedroom.
“Okay, we can go now.”
Brooks’ eyes darken, focusing on the hem hiking high on my thighs. “If we weren’t rudely interrupted, I’d fuck you bent over the counter until your hips were bruised.”
“He’s your friend,” I tease, opening the door.
A man I vaguely recognize from the bar waits across the hall, arms tucked against his chest. His eyes roam up and down my body twice before he shakes his head. He seems a little unsteady on his feet, a sign of one too many beers, which makes sense from his incessant interruption.
A growl rumbles from behind me.
“No need to piss on her. I can tell you’ve already staked your claim,” he slurs.
“Travis, that’s enough,” Brooks bites out.
“Whatever, man. I came to find you to tell you I’m leaving.”
Brooks steps around me, catching Travis on the shoulder. “You can’t drive like this. Let me take you home.”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt.” Travis tries to push Brooks off, but he’s not having it.
“A little late for that,” I whisper under my breath, but obviously not quiet enough because Brooks catches my eyes over his shoulder. They plead with me not to be my regular sassy self.
I draw in a deep breath and walk past the two of them down the hall toward Taylor’s room. “Night, boys,” I call back, removing myself from the equation so Brooks can help his friend.
T he wedding’s tomorrow. This week’s gone by way too fast. I’m not ready to leave Georgia and say goodbye to Taylor. But if I’m fully honest with myself, there’s also a grumpy, six-foot-something waltzing bartender who’s making the thought of getting on a plane even harder.
How does that happen in just a few days?
I have two days left to spend with him. Taylor’s little bet worked precisely how she wanted. I gave him the time to get inside my head, to get close, instead of keeping to my usual M.O.—and look where it’s gotten me. I suppose it bodes well for the bet, and that’s what we both want in the end. But what was Taylor expecting to happen? I’m not about to give up my life in California. My company’s there, my friends… well, the couple acquaintances I have. I can’t just pick up and move to Georgia, and he’s too tied to this town to leave. I couldn’t imagine him out in the city with all the influencers eating their avocado toast while chugging back a thirty-dollar health juice. No, a week was all we were ever going to have, but I plan to take full advantage of the time we have left.
“There you are!” Taylor shouts when she spots me across the garden behind her family home.
“Here I am,” I announce, tying the last tulle bow in my basket around the gazebo railing. The entire thing is covered in tulle, and tomorrow, someone will weave fresh flowers into the look, creating a picturesque scene. It will set the perfect backdrop for photos after the ceremony.
When I spin in her direction, her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes take me by surprise.
“Oh my God, Tay! Are you okay?” I rush to close the distance between us.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You’re not answering your phone,” Taylor gasps.
“I’m sorry, it must be on silent. I’ve been here for two hours, working all over the grounds, trying to perfect everything for your big day. Where have you been? What’s going on?” I throw back at her.
“That’s why I’ve been looking for you. There’s an emergency.”
“A sophomore year finals emergency or a senior year toga party emergency?”
“Toga emergency, times ten. Come on.”
She snatches the empty basket from my hand and pulls me back toward the house. The ground floor is packed full of people bustling about, doing the same thing I’ve been doing all morning, trying to get all the last-minute details in place. For a family with more money than God, they decided to handle a lot of things themselves.
When she pushes open her bedroom door, her mom and aunt are already in the room bent over something on the bed. I make my way past them to see what it is they’re picking at.
“Awe, that’s cute. You had a matching dress made for the flower girl.”
A howl of despair startles me and I drop the small dress back to the bed. Taking in the anguish on Taylor’s face, I’m starting to detect I’m missing something here.
“That’s my wedding dress.” She sobs.
My eyes flick back and forth between my best friend and the dress on the bed. This is way worse than the toga malfunction.
“What the heck happened? You just had a fitting!” I shout, getting angry on her behalf.
Her mom ushers her sit down, and I yank the offensive fabric out of her eyesight. Throwing it across the room.
“I don’t know! Mom dropped it off this morning, and I went to take a look just to make sure everything was okay.” She cries and flops black on the mattress. “And it’s not. It’s ruined. My wedding day is ruined. We might as well just cancel the whole thing now. Send everyone home. There won’t be a wedding.”
I suck my lips between my teeth, trying to keep the anxious laughter from escaping at the theatrics I’m beyond used to dealing with.
“Would you mind giving us a minute?” I ask her mom and aunt, who are hovering around but not offering any assistance in fixing the problem.
They nod their heads, gratitude brimming in their eyes as they shuffle out the bedroom door, closing it behind them.
I look at my watch. The wedding rehearsal doesn’t start until four. I can get to town, search high and low for a replacement wedding dress, and return in plenty of time to get ready myself.
“Okay, listen to me.” I stop in front of Taylor’s prone form. “You are not calling off this wedding because of a dress.”
She jolts up, staring me down as if I’ve just said the most asinine thing ever. Her mouth moves to protest, but I cut her off and continue.
“You love Spencer. You’re not getting married tomorrow because you get to wear some specific dress. You’re getting married tomorrow because you found your person. You could walk down that aisle in a paper sack, and he would still think you were the most ravishing creature to walk this earth. So, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to take a deep breath, get a snack, then do your hair and make-up for the rehearsal later.”
“Now is not the time to be eating, Indie,” she whines, then throws me a withering stare.
Too bad for her, she’s always looks like she fell straight from a fairy tale storybook and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Her stare is hardly intimidating, but it tells me she’s on the verge of a resuming her breakdown.
“I wasn’t done. Be quiet. While you do that, I’m going to run into town to the bridal salon. I remember what your dress looked like and the other ones you were on the fence about. I have your measurements and will find you something just as beautiful to wear tomorrow. It’s going to be okay, I promise. Your maid of honor is on it.”
“Okay.” She sniffles and nods along with the plan. “Lace and rhinestones and, for the love of god, no ruffles.”
“I got you through the toga fiasco of ’09. This is a piece of cake, babe.”
She pops off the bed and flings her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Have I told you how grateful I am for you being here? Let me grab you my card. If you find a couple of options, just get them all. I can return anything I don’t use, or maybe you can take them off my hands when you marry Brooks,” she says with a sly smile.
She’s completely perked back up as if nothing was ever wrong. Crisis adverted.