3. Brax
3
brAX
“They’re something, huh,” Iris says.
“Who?” I ask as I fill the shot glasses for a third time. Tomorrow, I am going to regret drinking so much, but it will be worth it, seeing Iris relaxed and with a smile on her face.
“Your sister and her man.”
“They’re nauseating at times, but it’s also nice to see my sister so happy.”
“That’s sweet,” she says as she lifts the shot glass to her lips. “Last toast because I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk if I have another.”
“You get a gold star from me. Three shots of this stuff would be more than enough for the average person.”
Her gaze dips down to the filled glass. “Really? I barely feel anything.”
“You will,” I tell her with a chuckle, knowing the punch of this stuff after it’s had enough time to work through someone’s system.
“Great,” she mutters before doing this cute shrug with her shoulders and making a funny face. “Okay. Okay. The last toast… To finding happiness that makes other people nauseated.”
I chuckle again, because she’s using my word against me. “Cheers.” I tap my glass against hers as gently as possible, so the contents don’t slosh over the side and into her lap.
I watch her over the rim of the shot as she downs the liquor with ease. I take in her features, wondering how any guy could leave her at the altar. Besides ditching such a beautiful woman, you have to truly not like a person to embarrass them in such a public way in front of the people who care about them the most.
When she sets the shot glass back on the counter, she shivers. “That one wasn’t as smooth as the others.”
“I think we’re done here.” I snag the two empty shot glasses and the bottle of booze to put back for the customers on Tuesday. “I’ll grab my coat and walk you over to the apartment.”
“Why are you being so kind? I’m sure your wife isn’t happy that you’re coming home later than usual.”
Her comment isn’t lost on me. Is she fishing for information? Is she interested in me? Nah, she can’t be. The woman hasn’t had the best track record, and I’m sure hooking up with me is the last thing on her mind.
“No. No one’s waiting for me. And I’m kind because that’s just who I am and who I was raised to be.”
It’s partially true. I do have great parents as role models. That’s the true part. But is that really me? Kind of. I could never leave a woman out there alone to face the elements and the city at night. It’s not how I’m built. But if it were some random dude, would I care? A little, but by no means would I be walking them to a spare apartment above my sister’s tattoo shop.
“You have good parents.”
“I do,” I tell her as we both pull on our coats, ready to do battle with the weather for the second time tonight. “The best.”
“Mine are decent, but they’ve been overbearing ever since…” Her voice trails off, but I can guess the last part of the sentence.
“Rough,” I mumble as I walk behind her while we head for the door.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe them.”
All conversation dies the moment we step outside and the cold and wind suck the air from our lungs. I don’t understand how it’s possible to breathe, but it is. I make quick work of the lock, and we hustle across the street like our asses are on fire and we’re running from the flames.
As soon as we step inside Inked and I switch on the lights, she stops dead in the middle of the customer waiting area. “Wow. Wow. Wow. This place is amazing,” Iris says as she gazes around the space.
It is impressive. I never thought my sister would make the place as beautiful as it is. Besides the family shop in Florida, most tattoo places I’d been in were dark and dingy, but Tate made it look more like an upscale spa. She wanted it to be welcoming for everybody, especially women.
“Wait until you see it in the daylight.”
Iris drags her gaze away from the artwork on the wall to look at me. “I’m sure it’s even more beautiful.”
“It is,” I tell her, and I want to say it’s not as beautiful as she is, but I don’t want to sound corny or for her to think it’s the alcohol talking.
Iris covers her mouth as she yawns. It’s late. Later than I planned on going to sleep tonight. I can’t wait to crawl into bed and drift off.
“I’ll show you up to the apartment, and then you can get some rest.”
“Thanks,” she says with a sweet smile.
Iris follows me to the back of the shop and the stairwell that’s just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the place. The apartment is unlocked, which my sister often does when it’s not in use. She refinished the space for visiting artists from out of town. The majority of the visitors have been our cousins from Florida who come back to Chicago to visit and do some tattooing while they’re here.
I flip on the lights at the top of the stairs, illuminating the apartment.
“Wow. How is this place even better than downstairs?”
I laugh softly as I take off my boots. Tate would kill me if I left a trail of melted snow through the apartment. “My sister is a perfectionist.”
“I can tell,” Iris says, toeing off her boots on the rug near the doorway. “She could get big money for renting out this space.”
It’s bigger than my place. The entire top of the shop was converted into a decked-out apartment. My sister does nothing half-assed.
“The bedroom is over there, and the bathroom is next to it. I don’t think there’s anything in the fridge,” I tell her as I stalk into the kitchen and open the fridge. “Just as I thought. Empty.”
“It’s okay. I can grab water from the tap, and I don’t plan to eat anything until I leave in the morning.”
“The bakery is open early.”
“A bakery?” she asks, her eyebrows rising. “Where?”
“Next to the bar. My stepmom owns it, and it has the best cupcakes in town. The coffee isn’t bad either if you like your coffee strong. ”
“You’re speaking my love language,” she says, her face turning pink before she clears her throat. “I love cupcakes, and coffee is my lifeline.”
“Then you’re in luck.”
Iris hasn’t moved. She’s still standing near her boots, looking a little lost. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky, but thank you for all this, Brax. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t such a great guy.”
“You would’ve figured something out,” I tell her, but I don’t know what the hell that would’ve been. Maybe she would’ve gotten a ride from someone in a few hours, but she would’ve had nowhere to wait while they drove across town on the snow-covered roads.
“I don’t think so,” she whispers, swaying a little, which I assume is from the alcohol finally making its home in her bloodstream.
“Are you going to be okay here?” I ask her. I know she’s a grown woman, but this is a foreign apartment to her on a side of town I doubt she usually comes to.
“I think so.” Her tone doesn’t convince me.
I want to get home to my bed, but there’s something inside me that has me pausing. “Do you want me to stay?”
She glances down at the hardwood floor. “No, you don’t have to do that.”
That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want me to. I’ve spent my life reading between the lines when Tilly and Tate give responses.
“Would you feel more comfortable if I stayed with you tonight? I can sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
Again, she’s not saying she’ll be fine.
“A big, comfy couch without walking home in a blizzard is not putting me out.”
Iris twists her hands together like she’s nervous. “Umm,” she mumbles.
“I’ll stay if you’re comfortable. You’re saving me from a very cold walk. I could freeze to death out there.”
“That would be awful.”
“Yeah.” I smile at her.
“Please stay,” she asks, finally telling me what she wants, even if I guilted her into it because she was worried about my well-being. “I don’t want you to freeze to death.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“I appreciate you staying. Why don’t you take the bed, and I’ll take the couch?”
I shake my head. “That’s not how it works, and if I’m honest, I’ve slept on this couch before. It’s comfortable.”
Iris raises an eyebrow. “You have?”
I nod. “A few times, but don’t tell Tate.”
Iris chuckles. “My lips are sealed.”
Now, it’s my turn to yawn. It’s been a long day, and I’m whipped from the ridiculous crowd we had at the bar for the game. “If you need anything, just shake me awake.”
“I’d never,” she says as she starts to move toward the bedroom where I pointed earlier. “Night, Brax.”
“Good night, Iris. Sweet dreams.”
She gives me a small smile over her shoulder before she disappears into the bedroom.
I stare down at the couch and wish I could strip down to nothing because I can’t sleep well when I have clothes on. But if Iris wakes up and finds me naked…
I shake my head.
No, dummy.
The woman wouldn’t be happy. She wouldn’t wake me up in a way that could put a big smile on my face. It’s stupid man-thinking led solely by my dick.
I strip off my shirt, scratching at my chest. I hate wintertime. The layers of clothes are suffocating. I can’t wait until it’s T-shirt season and I don’t need to bundle up like I live in the Arctic.
I lie down, punching at the pillow I snagged from the closet a few times to get comfortable. When I close my eyes, I see Iris’s smile and the kindness of her eyes.
My eyes pop open when I feel warmth against me. I peer to my side, finding Iris curling up against me. I don’t say anything or even move.
What in the world? If you would’ve asked me to bet on whether I’d find Iris next to me, I would’ve lost a lot of money.
I don’t know what time it is or if any real number of hours have passed since I said good night to her and lay down.
“Iris?” I whisper.
“Shh,” she says to me, snuggling into my side harder than before. “Sleepy.”
I wrap an arm around her, leaning into whatever the hell is happening. I’m too tired and comfortable to get into it. And in all honesty, she feels good, and the warmth is an added bonus as the wind whirls outside.
When I open my eyes again, the smell of coffee hits me square in the face. The sun is shining through the windows like it’s a warm, sunny day. I scrub at my eyes as I stretch my legs, hoping my back isn’t wrecked from sleeping on the couch.
I throw my legs over the edge as I put myself upright, blinking away the sleep. My eyes immediately land on Iris, who’s sitting in the kitchen at the island with her back to me.
“Iris,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from sleep and the alcohol.
She spins around on the stool with a cupcake in her hand. “Good morning,” she says sweetly.
“I see you found the bakery.”
“It’s the best place I’ve found in the city. It’s a hidden gem.” She reaches over, picking up a cup. “I brought you something. Tilly said it’s how you like your coffee.”
“Tilly was there?”
Iris nods. “She’s so sweet. Tate had told her what happened, and I told Tilly you stayed the night to make sure I would be okay.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Oh.”
“She said she would’ve been upset if you’d left me here by myself.”
That sounds like Tilly. While she’s all for feminism, she’s also for not leaving a woman in need. And other people may disagree, but Iris was in need of feeling safe in a foreign location.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No.” I push myself up, happy when my back doesn’t tighten immediately. “My family shares everything, and Tilly would’ve given me an earful if I’d left you here.”
It’s her turn to say, “Oh.”
“But that’s not why I stayed. I wanted to stay here.” I take the warm paper cup of coffee from her hand and sit down on the stool next to her. “Thanks for this.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
I stare at her. “Do you remember last night?”
“No, silly. I was asleep. What happened?”
I blink a few times, wondering if she’s screwing with me. “The couch,” I whisper behind my coffee cup .
Iris’s gaze moves to the couch. “Was it uncomfortable?”
I shake my head.
“Then what?”
I sip my coffee slowly, knowing Tilly makes it as hot as the surface of the sun. “You don’t remember?”
She shakes her head, slowly pulling at the edge of the cupcake wrapper. “No, but now I’m not sure I want to know.”
I chuckle softly. “You came into the living room.”
Iris’s big brown eyes grow giant. “I what?”
“You came into the living room.”
She sets the cupcake down next to her coffee cup, and I can see the panic on her face. “And what?”
“You laid on the couch.”
Her head drops forward, and she covers her face with her hands. “And what else?”
Do I tell her? We didn’t do anything embarrassing. We both fell back to sleep. No touches were exchanged. No kisses given. “We slept.”
“Together?” she gasps.
“We only slept. You crawled next to me and went to sleep.”
“Oh my God,” she says into her palms, shaking her head. “How embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was nice to have the added warmth.”
“Did I do anything else? ”
“No, Iris. You basically told me to be quiet and that you were sleepy. I chalked it up to the alcohol.”
“Damn it,” she says as she finally lifts her head to look at me. “I must’ve been sleepwalking. I do it sometimes, and drinking usually makes it happen more often. It’s why I rarely have hard liquor. This is so, so, so embarrassing.”
“Nothing happened, Iris. Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve done crazier things when I’ve had too much to drink. Snuggling up to someone doesn’t even scratch the surface of bad alcohol behavior in my past.”
She cracks a small smile, but it vanishes as quickly as it comes. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I’m mortified and so, so sorry.”
I grab her hands gently, not wanting her to feel weird. “I was confused, but in all honesty, it was some of the best sleep I’ve ever had. Don’t waste another moment thinking about it.”
“I woke up in the bed,” she admits, her lips turned down. “I had no idea.”
“Well, I’m glad I was here, because who knows what would’ve happened if you would’ve sleepwalked without me to snuggle with. Have you ever wandered out of the house?”
“No,” she says with a sigh. “That would be awful. It’s been years since it’s happened to me. Thank you for being so nice about this.”
“If someone is a jerk because a beautiful woman snuggles up to them, then it’s time to run because they’re an asshole.”
Iris giggles as her face finally softens. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to run into you, but I’m thankful for you making a very stressful twelve hours into something better.”
“It was my pleasure.” And it was. Being around Iris is easy, and whoever her ex was who left her at the altar is the biggest idiot on the planet. I hope he has perpetual limp dick for doing her so dirty.
“The tow will be here in an hour.”
“The perfect amount of time to finish our coffee.”
“Tilly sent you a pastry too.” Iris reaches into a white paper bag and pulls out another of my favorites.
“You’re making my day,” I tell Iris as I take the chocolate-filled croissant from her hand. “Maybe the best morning ever.”
“Why are you such a good guy?” she asks me.
I don’t want to tell her that I’m usually not, but she makes me want to be better.