chapter ten

 

“Are you okay?” Mark asks as we make our way from Steve’s place back home.

I nod as I keep my gaze focused out the passenger window. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re just quiet. Usually I can’t get you to shut the fuck up, but you’ve been quiet since you came to live with us three months ago.”

Three months. The same amount of time Vivian was supposed to be at FDB to straighten out the company. It seems like no matter where I turn, I’m reminded of her. Still.

“At first I thought it was just because you were in a new place after so many changes,” he continues, “and that’s totally understandable. But you’re still not you even after all this time has passed.”

I lift a shoulder. “I guess everything that happened forced me to change.”

“I get that. I do.” He clears his throat and takes a breath like he’s gearing up to tell me something I may not like. “But Reese and I were talking, and while you seem like you’re more comfortable around us and especially with Ashton, I haven’t heard your hearty laugh or seen a genuine smile since you’ve been out here. You’re not dating, you’re not meeting people. You rely on us for your socializing. You hole yourself up in your room with a bottle of whiskey. You put in more hours than I do at Ashmark most days and come with me to practice half the time. If you’re planning to stay in LA, you need to start making your own life.”

“And stop mooching off yours?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He sighs.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound bitter about it. I was planning to get my own place, but it doesn’t make sense to do it right now before heading out on tour for six weeks with you.”

“I agree. And I told you before, you can stay with us as long as you need to. I’ll gladly help you get your own place when you’re ready,” he says. “But I don’t mean just that. I mean you need to make friends. Go to a bar. Get to know the bartender. Find a girl to get drunk with. You haven’t had sex since Vivian.”

The mention of her name still socks me right in the gut. I clear my throat. “That’s actually not exactly true.”

“Oh?” Mark asks, raising a sly eyebrow in my direction.

“I banged a girl from the bar around the corner from my place in Vegas the night I lost Viv.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” I feel his eyes on me.

“It wasn’t worth mentioning.” I keep my gaze focused out the windshield. Red lights shine in front of us as we get stuck in traffic. “It was a one and done, just another regret to add to the laundry list of them.”

“Sorry, man. But if you’re still hung up on Vivian, it’s not like you don’t have her number.”

“What would I even say? I know it’s been months and you’re married, but I still love you and think about you every second of every day. I was wrong to choose some misguided attempt at morals when we all know I have none of those. Choose me over your husband.”

Mark purses his lips for a second. “Probably not that, but maybe something along those lines.”

I shake my head with a grim chuckle. “I can’t come between her and her husband.”

“Then try to move on with someone else. It doesn’t mean you have to hop into bed with the first woman who bats her eyelashes at you, but what’s the harm in trying?”

“I don’t know, Mark,” I hedge. I’m just not ready.

His phone rings and he takes the call. “Hey Vick,” he says.

My heart races. Vick, as in Victoria. Vail’s assistant.

Vivian’s cousin.

“Hey, Mark. How did tonight go?” Her voice fills the car’s speakers via Bluetooth, and she sounds a whole lot like her cousin.

I could so easily find out how Vivian is doing just by asking the question. I open my mouth to do it, but I chicken out.

Instead, I listen as Vick and Mark exchange details about tonight’s meeting and start to outline a plan for practices leading up to the tour.

He cuts the call when we pull into the driveway. I tuned out their conversation about halfway through as I thought about Mark’s words.

You need to start making your own life.

He’s right. Going out, having a few drinks, meeting some new people...these are all things I should be doing instead of doing the Brian.

I head inside, greet baby Ashton with a kiss on the forehead and greet my sister-in-law with a high-five, then head to my bedroom without a bottle of whiskey. I take a shower, pull on my favorite black shirt and jeans, say my goodbyes, get in the car, and drive.

I end up in Hollywood and park the car. I wander around until I find a line of people in front of a nightclub, and I get in the back of the line. I’ve never done a nightclub by myself. Ever. I’m completely out of my element.

I glance at the people ahead of me, and I feel old enough to be their father. That may be exaggerating, but I’m pushing thirty-three, and most of them look like they’re still in college.

I can’t do this. I want to make my own life, but I want to be with people who are at the same place in life I am.

Even as I think it, I can’t help but realize I don’t know what that place is.

I wander around until I find a bar without a line, and I head in there. It’s a little more my style with its leather club chairs and dark woods. Trendy pop music blares loudly from the speakers, a contrast to the classic décor that somehow manages to yield a place that might fit a vast array of personality types. As I look around for a seat, I find I’m not the oldest one in the place. I fall probably somewhere in the middle, but first impressions tell me this is a better fit than the last place. I find a single empty barstool, and just before I sit, I glance up to look for the bartender. She’s on the opposite end with her back turned to me as she cashes out someone’s ticket. I slide onto the stool as my eyes drift down to her ass. She’s wearing some tight, black leotard thing with fishnet stockings, and my poor, stagnant dick twitches to life as my mind immediately goes to sex with the bartender. The one whose face I haven’t even seen yet.

I can’t stop my brain from the image of me bending that sweet ass over the bar and driving into her.

I’m just horny. It’s been over months since I’ve been with a woman. I haven’t had a drought this long since...well, since before I started having sex.

I miss the soft feel of skin beneath my fingertips, the curves and the warmth, the scent of roses and...

I shake my head to try to get the image of Vivian out. I should be fantasizing about the bartender with the great ass, not about the woman who broke my heart.

I pull out my phone to look busy, but I realize that’s not the way to make my own life. I slide my phone back into my pocket just as the bartender makes her way over to me, and when our eyes meet, I let out a little puff of air as all the blood drains from my face.

“Kendra,” I whisper.

“Oh my God,” she says. “What are you doing here?”

Of all the establishments where I could grab a glass of whiskey in the entire world, somehow I ended up in the one bar in Hollywood where my ex-girlfriend is serving drinks.

“I was just leaving.” I stand and turn, but she stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Wait,” she says. She glances behind her, and that’s when I notice another bartender, this one a dude, making his way toward her.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

She nods. “I need a five-minute break.”

“Go ahead,” he says.

“Come with me,” Kendra says. A quick war wages in my brain. It’s not quite the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other. It’s more like the angry, cuckolded beast on one side and the horny, aroused animal on the other.

In the end, neither side can possibly win because this can’t end any other way aside from disappointment.

But, even knowing that, I follow her anyway.

We end up in a small back room. An employee only single stall bathroom sits behind the door on the right, an office sits behind the door on the left, and a third door straight ahead has a green Exit sign above it. It’s all gray cement back here, decorated only with the messy stacks of bottles and cans and glasses and napkins all around us.

“What do you want?” I ask on a frustrated sigh once we’re in the quiet of the back room.

“Did you come here for me?” she asks softly.

My brows draw down harshly. “Are you crazy?”

She lifts a shoulder and huffs out a laugh. “Maybe. Probably.”

“I didn’t even know you lived out here.”

She nods. “I moved out here a few days after we ended things.”

After we ended things. That’s a real nice way of saying she fucked my brother while I was out working and left me completely heartbroken with the sort of damaging aftershocks that still affect how I function three years later.

I press my lips together but don’t respond. Something deep down tells me she didn’t move out here to get away from me or the life we built in Chicago. I’d put money on the fact that she knew my brother had a place here and she came to Los Angeles to get her shot with him.

“There was nothing left in Chicago for me if I didn’t have you.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you fucking serious right now? You used me for an entire year so you could get to my brother. If you think it ended for any other reason than that, you’re delusional.”

“I loved you, Brian. What I did was wrong, but I—”

I cut her off. “No. You don’t get to pout and try to defend what you did. You’re right. It was wrong. End the sentence there.”

She blows out a breath. “I thought you came here for me. I thought you missed me like I miss you.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t and I don’t.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I live in LA now. Well, Malibu. I’m working at my brother’s record label.”

I don’t miss the little flare that lights up her eyes at the mention of my brother. “What happened to FDB?” she asks, and I know exactly what she’s doing.

“None of your business.”

She blows out a breath. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Brian. We can still be friends.”

“You had sex with my brother while I was in the next room!” I explode. “I don’t want to be your friend!”

“You were always so passionate. Always had such a fire under you.” She takes a step toward me, and now I know she really is actually insane. She reaches out to me and runs a fingertip down the front of my shirt and stops it just shy of my pants, her eyes following its path. Then she looks up at me from under lowered lashes.

As much as I fucking hate this woman and how she broke me, I can’t help my body’s reaction to her. My dick springs to life, pressing against the tight confines of my pants.

I loved her.

Once upon a time, I wanted to spend my life with her.

I don’t anymore, but the feelings I once had start to swirl in the pit of my stomach. The attraction is still there, intense as ever and making me think things I have no business thinking. Making me want things I have no business wanting.

Just one night. For old time’s sake. What would it hurt?

It would give me what I need for the time being, a woman beneath me and the relief that comes with a good fuck. It would release all the tension. No one would get hurt because we’re not in a relationship anymore. The sex with her was always top notch. We already know each other’s bodies, so there won’t be any of that awkward fumbling around as we get into a rhythm. It’ll be like riding a bike, only it’ll be Kendra riding my cock.

I take a menacing step toward her as I close the gap between us. I grab her biceps in my fists. She’s somehow even thinner now than when we were together, and my fist encircles her entire upper arm.

I draw up every ounce of strength I have when I finally say, “I didn’t come here for you.” I widen the gap between us again as I push her away. I release her arms. “It’s purely a coincidence, and I’m leaving now.”

I step around her and head toward the door with the green Exit sign illuminated above it.

“Don’t go.” Her voice is weak behind me, a frail attempt to get me to do whatever she wants so she can use me to get to Mark again.

Her two words nearly do the trick. I almost turn around, but I know if I look one more time into her dark eyes and at her beautiful, devil face, I’ll do something I will only regret in the end.

I take the right road. It’s the only road with light on it in this dark night.

“I have to,” I say, and then I shove the door open and swallow in gulps of the warm August night air as I try to regain some semblance of balance after that encounter.