Not Until You Read online

  “I thought you got lost,” Nicole says with a smirk.

  I bring my arm around the back of her chair, and the tips of my fingers just graze her neck as I lean close. “I have a feeling I’d have found my way here eventually.”

  This game of cat and mouse is going to end very soon. She’s about to find out that I don’t like to toy with my food.

  She shivers in her seat, and I’m thrown for a loop when Nicole drops her napkin, her eyes full of mischief as she bends to get it.

  I feel her hand on my leg, causing my cock to harden as she moves up. “Sorry, dropped something,” she explains to the table.

  However, her hand continues to find its way higher. Fucking hell, this woman is forward. I feel her just brush against my cock, and I practically growl before gripping her wrist, stopping her from rubbing me off right here.

  I run my finger down the back of her neck and whisper so no one else can hear. “Later, you’ll pay for that.”

  She grins and raises her brows. “I’m counting on it.”

  Chapter Four

  Nicole

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” I ask myself in the mirror.

  The entire dinner I’ve been playing this game, wanting the very thing he asked me, and instead of saying yes, I ran to the damn bathroom.

  Going to Callum’s place has been the damn end goal, but in my gut, I know this will not work out the way I hope.

  I don’t do more than one night. I do meaningless, emotionless sex with men who I will never think about again.

  My heart races just at the thought of him. I hear his deep voice in my head. “Come back to my room tonight, Nicole. I would very much like to fuck you into tomorrow.”

  Ugh. That accent. It’s impossible to resist. I know myself well enough to know that I feel more for this man before I’ve even kissed him than I’ve felt for any man I’ve ever slept with.

  I’ve lost my fucking mind.

  However, I don’t freak out. That isn’t my thing, and I need to just get a plan in place. Once I have that, I can walk away, chucking deuces into the air.

  Step one, I need to get out of here.

  I grab my clutch and peek out the door. Coast is clear.

  Every part of me wants to march out there, face him, tell him that I’m no longer interested, but I’m not sure I won’t end up fucking him in the backseat of his car. So, I’m going to pull a Heather—and disappear.

  I move down the hall, toward the valet, but right as I’m ready to the turn the corner, Callum catches me.

  “Shit,” I curse under my breath and look for another option.

  His eyes meet mine, and I know I’m screwed. I can either walk up to him, tell him I’m not going back to his room, and have him somehow convince me to do it anyway or I can do what any self-respecting woman would do and push through the doors to the kitchen.

  Which is what I do.

  Because I’m ridiculous.

  “Miss,” one of the wait staff calls.

  “Ignore me.” I smile as I keep moving.

  “Miss, you can’t be in here!”

  I’m well aware of that.

  I continue walking as if he hasn’t spoken.

  “Ma’am!” Another person calls out.

  I’m now running through a kitchen to avoid a man. Someone needs to lock me up.

  I smile and give a little wave as I keep heading toward the back. Kitchens always have some sort of exit, seems reasonable this one will.

  “Miss.” A waiter grips my arm. “You really can’t be back here.”

  “I understand that—”I look at his name tag and try not to groan—“Ned, but you see, I really need to escape . . . my . . . mother, yes, my mother. She’s driving me crazy, trying to send me home with this terrible man who smells like onions,” I explain quickly. “I would really appreciate it if you just helped me out, I would forever be grateful.”

  I’m hoping he can sense the desperation in my plea.

  He shakes his head, and I fear I’m going to lose this one. “Do you have a crazy mother?”

  Ned nods.

  “So you understand that if she has her way, I’ll have no choice and . . . you know, I’m just trying to do what I can to avoid something I can’t handle. I don’t want to upset her because that comes with a lifetime of guilt.”

  Ned sighs and looks over my shoulder. “All right,” he acquiesces. “I’ll take you out the back exit.”

  Yes! Ned is great, Ted is a loser.

  “I could kiss you, Ned.”

  He chuckles. “I don’t think my wife would appreciate that.”

  “Well, she’s a lucky lady.”

  We start to move through the expansive kitchen, Ned leading the way. The waitress carrying a tray of pastries eyes me.

  Don’t mind if I do.

  I take one and pop it into my mouth, which earns me a glare. “That wasn’t meant for you.”

  I shrug. “Sorry! I’m a stress eater,” I mumble with my mouth full of the sweet pralines with candy coating.

  God, that’s good.

  Ned’s eyes are about to pop out of his head, I shrug, and we’re on the move again.

  We get to the back exit, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I say, touching his arm.

  “Good luck.”

  The kitchen exit is on the back of the building, which is nowhere close to the valet. I clearly didn’t think this through. I’m not sure how I’m going to get to the front, get in my car, and get away without anyone seeing me.

  If my friends could see me now . . .

  I step around the crap in the back, worried about my shoes and a little grossed out that the club my mother spends God only knows how much to be a member of has grounds like this. Of course, she’ll never know because I’ll be dead when she chokes me for this, but I’ll be sure to tell someone before I die.

  I pull out my phone and send a text to Kristin.

  * * *

  Me: If I die, know that the grounds behind the club are gross.

  * * *

  Kristin: Umm . . . why are you behind the club? I’m pretty sure Esther would never allow any kind of grounds exploration. More than that, you wouldn’t either. What the hell is going on?

  * * *

  My mother is prim and proper. Everything in her life has order, except for me. I’m the wild card that keeps her young, at least, that’s what I tell myself. My friends know that I may be nothing like her, but still, I don’t do dirt or camping or any kind of climbing through shit.

  This is a sad day that fear of feeling anything for a guy I don’t know brought me to climbing over trash in my Manolo Blahnik red heels.

  * * *

  Me: Maybe I’ll tell you when I get to your house. If I make it out of here alive.

  * * *

  Kristin: I can’t wait for this one.

  * * *

  Yeah, I’m pretty sure this will be a story my friends torture me over for years to come.

  I get to where the cars are, smooth my skirt, and try to fix my hair so I don’t look like I just ran an obstacle course.

  “Hey!” I call when I see the valet.

  “Miss?” He looks around confused. “Are you lost?”

  I sigh. “Listen, I need you to help me out. Here’s the ticket for my car, would you be the wonderful valet I know you are, and get my keys for me?”

  His eyes widen. “I could get fired for that.”

  “But I have my ticket, it’s my car.”

  “Yes”—he looks up where the entrance is—“but club members aren’t allowed back here, and you have to get your car from the desk.”

  Why does everyone here actually follow the rules? I’m just trying to get my stupid car and get out of here without having to face Callum. It shouldn’t be this difficult to avoid a man who makes my loins ache.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and go with my best exit strategy. “Do you know Ted Edwards?” His lips form to a straight line, telling me he very much knows him. “See,
he’s waiting for me up there, and as you can see, I’m willing to go to any lengths possible to avoid him. Would you help out?”

  He nods. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  I smile, move closer, and touch his chest. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “I’m happy to see you lived,” Kristin says as she opens the door.

  “Bite me. Are you going to let me into your house?”

  It’s still weird for me to call it her house. This is the house that Heather grew up in and lived in until she met her perfect man and moved to the rich area of town. To me, it’ll always be Heather’s house.

  She steps aside, and I walk through the door to my second home.

  I spent a lot of nights here as a kid. I had my first kiss in this backyard, learned to shave my legs in the upstairs bathroom, and found a warm place far away from the coldness my house emanated at the kitchen table.

  “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Heather smiles, exiting the kitchen with a bottle of wine in her hand.

  “Heather!” I squeal and rush toward her. “It’s been too long, you bitch!”

  She laughs, and I rock back and forth, holding her in my arms. “I missed you too, asshole.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask them both.

  Kristin shrugs. “It’s so much more fun this way.”

  “It wasn’t for sure either, but Eli pretty much forced me out of the house after I kept complaining about how I missed my girls and hated his smelly boy friends.”

  I squeeze her again and fight back the tears threating to form. Today has been a little overwhelming for me. It’s been years since I’ve thought about . . . him. Years that I’ve kept my heart locked up tight in the chains, refusing to let them even rattle. Then all it took was one look from Callum, and the chains could no longer hold anymore, and the links shattered.

  “What’s going on with you?” Kristin asks from across the room.

  “Nothing,” I fire back.

  She raises her brow. “Really? Want to try that again without the bullshit?”

  Damn stupid friends who know me too well.

  “I would, but I have some guys waiting for me.” I sit on the arm of the couch. “Can’t stay long.”

  Heather and Kristin share a look, and then Heather nods.

  Great. They’re going to tag team me. Which normally, I’d be all for, but Kristin knows too much. She’s the only one who has any idea about the things I’ve hidden for years. That gives her an edge.

  “So, you have no good reason as to why you were behind the club?” Kris asks with a knowing look.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” I deflect.

  “Oh, honey.” Heather touches my leg. “It’s funny you think we’re going to let this drop. Out with it.”

  I glare at them both, but they just smile in return. I often wonder why I talk to them still. They’re nuts and intrusive and annoying and stupid friends who I love more than anything. Also, I’m pretty sure they feel the same about me.

  “Yeah, let’s hear it.” Kristin crosses her arms over her chest.

  Heather nods. “You know we’ll end up calling Esther if you don’t.”

  “Oh, that is a low blow.”

  They shrug. “And what will happen is that she will give us a much different version from the one you would give us.” Kristin huffs.

  “Which will lead us to need to further investigate,” Heather tacks on.

  “And then we’ll be forced to come to our own conclusions after a lot of talking to people you probably don’t want us to talk to.”

  Seriously? These two are no longer my friends. I’m going to find new ones who aren’t overbearing assholes.

  “Okay.” Kristin grabs her phone. “You leave me no choice.”

  “Fine, I met a guy!” I yell and get to my feet. “I met a guy, and he scared the fuck out of me. I flirted with him all night and planned to fuck his brains out, but when the opportunity actually presented itself, I ran to the bathroom. I hid like a stupid girl, ran through the kitchen to the back exit, and then bribed the valet so I could avoid talking to him. Happy now?”

  Both of them bust out laughing. They continue on for a while, giggling and having great fun at my ridiculousness. “Oh my god!” Kristin snorts. “You’re as bad as we are!”

  “Umm,” I say with my hands on my hips as I look pointedly at Heather. “No, I’m not. I didn’t scale a fence.” My eyes cut to Kristin. “Or fall into a pool when I was shitfaced!”

  Heather sits back, sipping her wine. “You might as well have, my friend.”

  I didn’t sleep with Callum, I just got scared and . . . oh, fuck.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake! I pulled a Heathergate!” I slump down. “I’m fucking ridiculous like you two!”

  “A what?” Heather screeches.

  I roll my eyes and then cover my face. “I wasn’t scaling any gates, but I got scared and ran.”

  “Okay, but what the fuck is a Heathergate?”

  “You know . . . a fuck and run. I think it’s a great name. You screwed Eli and then climbed a gate. It makes total sense.”

  Heather gives me the finger, and then I cover my face again. I can’t look at them . . . or myself.

  Kristin laughs. “You know what this means?”

  I slowly pull my arm down, meeting her eyes. “No?”

  “You have a heart. You got scared. You’re totally going to marry this guy.”

  She’s lost her mind. “I am never getting married. Ever. I don’t have a heart, it shriveled up years ago. And I don’t get scared—especially of men. I like them so much that I often invite two of them.”

  I know they don’t understand any of this, but it’s who I am. I don’t like strings or more than one-time things. However, I like being the center of attention. I like when two men are focused on my pleasure. When they go home and leave me sated and happy, I’m even happier.

  “Yes, nothing like being the meat in a man-sandwich.” Heather pours herself another glass of wine.

  “Don’t hate.”

  She grins. “I don’t. I think you’re crazy and hiding. So, what was it about this guy that made you run and climb over trash?”

  It was everything.

  The way he looked at me.

  The way he stirred this deep feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  The way he said my name.

  The way I thought about something more than one night of unbelievable sex.

  I believe that everyone makes mistakes, but when you purposely follow the same track that led you down a bad road, that’s insanity. I’m not insane.

  “It wasn’t just him, it was Esther too.”

  Kristin studies me, and I know she isn’t buying it. Heather was always the more gullible one. “I almost believed you,” she challenges. “But you don’t back away from Esther. You don’t run, and you sure as hell don’t ruin thousand-dollar shoes over her. Try again.”

  I look down at my pretty shoes, touching them and telling them I’m sorry. My friends may make fun of me or not always understand me, but they love me. I’ve never doubted that. There are just some things I can’t tell them, and this is one.

  Instead of lying, I give Kristin a small shake of my head, knowing she’ll understand.

  Her eyes tell me she received my message and turns back to Heather. “It’s clear she’s not going to tell us.” She purses her lips. “Tell me more about this Heathergate situation. It’s been a while since we laughed over your crazy antics regarding Eli.”

  When Kristin looks back at me, I mouth, Thank you, and she winks.

  I may have gotten off the hook tonight, but there’s no way this is going to be the last of this conversation.

  Chapter Five

  Nicole

  “Kim,” I call to my assistant. “Can you make sure we’re ready for the Dovetail Enterprises in the conference room?”

  The meeting is in an hour, and I’m not even close to prepared. All Martin told me was that
he has a large budget and wants the designs for his new luxury apartments to be impressive.

  I explained when we had drinks that I can do impressive, now I have to deliver.

  The issue is that I’ve gotten half information and a possible floor plan. It’s really hard to make a design when you have no clue if the kitchen island is ten feet or four. Regardless, I’m a goddamn professional, and I’ll do the best to show I can think on my feet.

  At least, that’s the lie I’m feeding myself.

  Kim walks in, sniffling because I told her I didn’t care if she was sick or half dead, she was coming to work today. “I don’t know if we’re ready.”

  I sigh and walk over to her, place my hands on her shoulders, and speak softly. “I know you’re not feeling well, but this? This is game day. Do you know what winners do on game day?”

  Her eyes close a little, but then she pushes them back open. “Win?”

  “That’s right. Are we winners?”

  “I guess.”

  “No.” I sigh. “We are. We’re winners, and we need to get our asses in gear, okay?”

  “Nicole, I’m dying.”

  She sure looks like it. “You’re not,” I assure her. “You look like you’re ready to tackle the . . . umm . . . something.”

  Kim glares at me and then sneezes. “I’m ready to tackle a nap.”

  “Well, I promise I’ll redesign your apartment if you can at least give me another thirty minutes of work.” Bribery isn’t my go-to, but I’m desperate.

  Two nights ago set me back. I had planned to work for a bit when I got home from dinner, but that didn’t happen. Instead, I drew photos of a chiseled jaw, light brown hair, and blue eyes. Each contour of his face was perfect. Each line was etched into my memory. And then I had to get myself off with my trusty bullet.