Chapter 7
Gracyn
I step outside the double doors, and I’m immediately swallowed by a warm, humid embrace. It’s as if someone is hugging me too long. It’s suffocating. But the city’s lights twinkle, providing a magnificent backdrop that makes up for the sticky air. The terrace is empty, and I wonder if I’m on the right floor. I pull out my phone to check the time. Exactly fifteen minutes have passed.
As I make my way across the pavement, the loud clicking of my heels resounds, a distinct clip, clip, clip . When I reach the edge of the building, I’m captivated by the mesmerizing view of the city below. I press my forehead against the cool thick glass that blocks the edge of the skyscraper. Muffled sounds of music and laughter drift up from the terrace just outside the reception hall below. Definitely on the right floor.
The moment I hear the doors opening, I twist around and sigh in disappointment when I find Cooper. Oh boy.
“There you are,” he says as if he’d been looking for me. I look past him, hoping Brooks is right behind.
But nope, it’s just the two of us.
I wave my phone in explanation. “I had to make a phone call. It’s quiet up here.” He bares his white teeth in a predatory smile, and my creep meter dings off the charts as he ignores my reason and continues toward me. I’ve dealt with plenty of guys like him over the years. He reminds me a little of Justin. Not wanting to be trapped up here by him, I head toward the doors.
“Did you know that around midnight, all the billboards in Times Square display a digital show in perfect synchronization?”
I politely smile, slowing my pace, but continue to move toward the door. “I didn’t. I’ll have to check that out later.”
He grabs my bicep with a possessive squeeze as I try to move past him. What is with the men here thinking it’s okay to put their hands on me?
“I have a suite here. How about we go to my room and check it out now?”
How about no? My mouth opens, ready to tell him he’s about to lose his dick if he doesn’t let me go, but I’m stopped mid-breath.
“I suggest you remove your hand. Now,” a stern voice demands from the terrace door. I turn my head to see Brooks holding two glasses of wine. Fury casts a dark shadow over his face as he sends a warning glare at Cooper’s hand.
Cooper releases me, and I step back, rubbing the red handprint.
“We were just getting some fresh air, weren’t we?” Cooper’s icy gaze flicks at me, and my brows shoot up.
“It seems the lady doesn’t feel the same way.”
Cooper’s nostrils flare. “This doesn’t concern you, Handley.”
A wicked grin stretches across Brooks’s face as he moves closer to Cooper. This should not turn me on, but I can’t help it. He’s dangerously gorgeous right now. He’s my black knight. And it’s a good thing for Cooper that Brooks’s hands are busy holding glasses. Maybe I should grab them. “I would love a reason to have you kicked out of the party, Rossman.” Both men puff out their chests, clearly revealing there’s some history between the two. “I’m not even sure who invited you to begin with.”
Cooper regards me once more, surprising me as if he’s debating if I’m worth the fight, but then relents and storms through the same door he came through moments ago. Yeah, that would’ve been the wrong move, buddy, because I would’ve bet on Brooks.
“Wow,” I say, stunned.
Brooks releases a low, throaty growl. “He’s a grade-A asshole. He blames us for his company failing, which I’m certain is more about him than us. And he has a couple of restraining orders against him. I have no idea how he received an invitation,” he murmurs as he hands me a glass. “I saw you leave without a drink.” His tone softens.
He’s lost the jacket and tie and looks good enough to eat right now. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Definitely not. Been there, done that. It didn’t end well.”
That’s an understatement. At least you remember it.
My body heats under his slow perusal of my body.
“I really like this dress,” he says.
I knew you would.
“I didn’t think I’d stand out as much as I did. Don’t you people wear color here?” He chuckles as he leads me back to the edge of the terrace. “I mean, look down there. People walk around half naked. What is that about and how is that legal? But that’s not my point.” I throw my hand up. “People are very eccentric down there, yet everyone up here wants to blend in together.”
Where the hell is this rambling coming from?
And why can’t I stop?
“I’m not a fan of how bright New York City is.” The notion falls out of my mouth as I stare down below at the hustling city that never sleeps. “I mean, yeah, Vegas is bright, but most people don’t live on the Strip. I like my sleep. Pitch dark. And don’t get me started on the glow of the cable box.”
He laughs to my side, running his finger up my forearm, and I shiver.
“Noted.”
I twist my body to face him. The shadows of the night against the sharp edges of his face make him look dangerous. A good dangerous . Like the guys on motorcycles where you fantasize about having passionate sex on the bike.
As I trace the pads of my fingertips along his jaw, a tingling sensation courses through me. “You’re very handsome,” I murmur, mesmerized by his masculinity.
“And you are gorgeous,” he returns the sentiment, snaking his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. He places both our drinks on the edge, by the glass.
My breath catches in my throat, misplacing all my thoughts. “We’re supposed to be talking about something, right?”
“Can I kiss you first?”
His heartbeat is like a hammer to my chest. Whoa. That’s intense.
I don’t even finish nodding before his lips connect with mine, drowning out my soft moans. His hand squeezes, getting a handful of my ass, pressing me into him, my back against the cool glass. When he pulls back, my breaths are rapid and my lips swollen and … numb?
I touch them, my thoughts blurring together. “You kissed the feeling out of my lips.” My voice is almost unrecognizable, like it’s dragging down a long tunnel. I widen my eyes and blink. My face feels like it’s drooping.
I feel drunk.
“Gracyn?”
“I guess you did get me drunk.” I giggle. He scowls as he hooks my chin with his thumb and finger, angling my head up, studying my eyes. The intensity in his face makes me giggle again. “Don’t be mad. You can’t marry me again. But we can do other things.” The words come out slurred as I wiggle my hips.
“How much did you drink?”
I hold up one finger. “One.” And then another. “Two.” And another. “Three. I think.”
“Fuck,” he grates out. When he swoops me up in his arms, everything spins. Wheeeee!
“That’s a great idea,” I giggle again. “Let’s go fuck.” My body heaves in his arms as he storms across the terrace. “Brooks, should I take your last name?” I slur the words right before darkness pulls me under.