Summer, page 11
part #3 of Seasons Series
I had just taken a step when I found my way blocked by a man I didn’t know. He was in a black suit and white shirt, same as Reed, and he had dark hair and blue eyes, same as Reed again. He was definitely fit and exuded an air of superiority, rounding out the trifecta. But I knew with every fiber of my being, he was no Reed.
“Hi there. I don’t think we’ve met. I’d remember someone like you.” Oh, God. Why me? “I’m Jack Parker. I work with Connor. And you are?” Leaving. I am definitely leaving. Soon.
I put my hand in the one Jack held out when introducing himself, and said, “Emma Shaw.” Instead of shaking my hand, Jack raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss there. Gross. I wanted to smack him with it when he released me. I wanted to wipe off his touch. Who even does that?
“Emma. Beautiful name. To go along with the face.” Smooth operator this one thinks he is. But he’s not. He’s a few other s-words. Skeezy, slimy, smarmy.
“So, Emma, are you a friend of Connor’s, Riley’s, or both?”
“I’m not exactly a friend of either one. I used to live here years ago, and while I do know Riley, I haven’t seen her in ages. I used to hang out with her brother, Liam, and his friends more than her.” I wouldn’t tell him that the only reason I hung out with Liam and his friends was because I was Reed Brooks’ girlfriend. “I’m actually here because of my friend, Sky, and her boyfriend, Jax.”
“Jax? You mean, Jackson Raines?”
“That’s him.”
“Small world. I’m getting a tattoo done over at Inked next week. Not by him though. By Reed. You know Reed Brooks?”
Jesus Christ. For being a relatively big city it sure is full of small circles. I just can’t win.
I looked over at the bar toward Reed as soon as Jack mentioned him—and immediately regretted it. There was a woman standing next to him, her hand clutching his arm. He was looking down at her—into her eyes or at her ample cleavage on display, I couldn’t tell. She was blonde and beautiful and statuesque. Nothing at all like me.
I looked away and met Jack Parker’s lackluster blue eyes and said, “I used to. Not anymore.”
After a few minutes of ‘getting-to-know-you’ conversation I don’t know why I bothered with, Jack grabbed us two champagne flutes from a server as they were passing by. He clinked his glass with mine and toasted, “To new friendships.” And more, I read clearly in his eyes.
There is absolutely no chance of that, Jack. Not with how much he was talking and boasting about himself.
I normally loved firefighters—which Jack is. But not this one. He liked being the man in uniform a little too much—if you know what I mean. It wasn’t about saving lives; it was about how many notches he could rack up. I could just tell.
I gave Jack a small smile and wondered for the millionth time where the hell Sky was when a laugh across the room caught my attention—over the music and other people’s chatter.
I should have fucking known.
And speaking about goddamn notches.
The blonde bombshell that was next to Reed a few minutes ago was gone. Her replacement? A buxom brunette. Reed sure did have a fucking type, didn’t he? He said I was his type, his only, and yet—and yet why did it matter?
I drained the remainder of the champagne in my glass, set it on the table, and grabbed another two—both for me—when the server came back around again. I took a healthy swallow and met Jack’s eyes. They really weren’t bad eyes—they were no Reed Brooks’ eyes—but then, nobody was Reed Brooks, but Reed Brooks.
And holy hell, Connor and Riley must have splurged for the good stuff.
I only had two glasses of champagne and I was sprouting this shit? Nobody was Reed Brooks but Reed Brooks? Said in the most maudlin way ever?
It normally took me a whole bottle of red wine. At least five shots of premium tequila. Seventy-two Bellini’s at brunch.
“So, do you think you might want to go get a drink this weekend? Or have dinner?”
Jack was completely oblivious to my never-going-to-happen signals. Probably because most women fall at his feet. But then again, most women aren’t me. I’ve had Reed Brooks and all his amazingness wanting me—at eighteen and almost thirty. Jack Parker? Really? I wasn’t falling for this guy’s schtick.
He did get my mind flowing though.
When was the last time I went on a date?
The last time I had sex?
The thought of having sex had me not looking at Jack with interest, but over at Reed again. It also had me tossing back the rest of my drink. Reed was currently with a redhead. And she kind of looked like me. He leaned down and said something close to her ear, something that had her looking up at him like he was talking about sex and not just thinking about it like me.
Me with him.
Him with her.
Him and her.
Seeing someone who looked like me with him, seeing both of them together making quite a pair, made me want to—
“Emma?” Jack said my name and it had me fully turning away from Reed and the redhead. No more looking at him with her. No more looking at him with any of them.
Also, no more sound-mind or judgment from me, apparently.
“You know what, Jack? Dinner or drinks sounds great. How about I give you my number and we can figure it out some other time. I actually need to get going. I have another party to attend.”
A party of one—which is what it should’ve always been. I should’ve never said yes to Sky. Sky who still wasn’t here. She was probably having sex. That’s probably why she’s late—she’s too busy screwing her boyfriend and screwing me over. She’d just have to deal with me leaving early. I came. I tried. I spent way too much money on an hour…and for what? A look? To make a point? What was the point—of all of it?
After giving my number to Jack, I put down my champagne flute, gave him as warm of a smile as I could muster for someone I really never wanted to see again—someone I unfortunately just committed myself to a date with because of fucking Reed and a jealousy I will never, ever mention to anyone, ever—and turned to get my jacket so I could finally leave. Unfortunately, that put me directly in the path of Reed. And he was barreling towards me like a thunderstorm on a tempestuous summer night. I wanted to meet him head-on and be the lightning to his thunder.
So I did.
I went toe-to-toe with Reed Brooks before a little sanity returned and I closed the door between his and my fury to prevent further damage and destruction between us we might never recover from.
CHAPTER SIX
REED
“Really, Emma? Douchebag Parker? That’s your type now? Out of all the guys—”
“Out of all the guys, anyone but you, Reed.”
Fuck, but that hurt.
I took a step back, shocked at her harsh words. The vehemence in her voice.
From the expression on Em’s face, she seemed a bit thrown by what came out of her mouth too.
“I-I didn’t…” she took a deep breath, then said, “I’m sorry for saying that.” She didn’t say she didn’t mean it though. And from what she said to me before, along with this, I didn’t know how to respond to her. So, I didn’t. I’ve never known her to stumble over her words. Nor did I ever know her to be cruel, hard.
Em took another deep breath and said, “Happy New Year, Reed.”
Happy New Year?
After anyone but you?
I did the same thing to her though, didn’t I? Saying something careless and then, Happy New Year. What a fucking joke.
Emma moved around me to the closet—it looked like she was leaving. I didn’t want her to go. But I also didn’t want her to stay and be near Jack Parker. He wasn’t nicknamed Douchebag Parker for no reason. He was only here because Connor felt obligated to invite everyone from the firehouse. Parker came with a warning though—keep your wives, girlfriends, and sisters away, he was no fucking good.
I watched as Emma came back out of the walk-in closet, jacket buttoned, ready to go.
Hell, I really messed up. Apparently, I didn’t have shit figured out.
I definitely didn’t figure out how to not open my mouth and say the wrong fucking things. What the hell was I thinking bringing up having kids? Seeing her holding our baby after giving birth? Why would I say such a thing to her after what she said to me only days ago? About wanting that shit more than anything? About it all disappearing in the blink-of-an-eye and shattering her completely? Fuck my goddamn life. All I could think about was saying I never thought I’d see her more beautiful than prom or when I first slipped inside of her—which wasn’t true. It was a lie. And I didn’t want to lie to her anymore. Never again.
You don’t want to lie—but you also don’t want to hurt her, you dick. And that’s exactly what you did. So much so, she’s fucking leaving.
I watched Em glance around one last time, looking so much like she did when she first got here…and yet, not the same at all. I got here early. So early one of the event staff greeted me at the door, Connor and Riley nowhere in sight. They were supposedly still getting “ready.” Yeah, right. Connor and Riley Brennan were notorious for a few things: their love for one another and their kids, their fucking, and their ‘fighting.’
Happy New Year to them!
Who am I to judge though? Em and I are in the middle of a ‘fight,’ and I want nothing more than to haul her over my shoulder, find any available surface, and fuck her into oblivion. And if it was during a party? Who the fuck cared? Whenever, wherever, however with Em. It was how a lot of men were looking at her tonight. Like they wanted to do unspeakable things to her. Which made me want to do murderous things to them. Especially The Douche. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to get here early. I wanted to make sure Em had a good time with me and not some other random asshole after we got a few things straight. And I also wanted to make sure that my sister, Liv, was okay.
A few years ago Liv was living in this apartment building…when it caught on fire. She was trapped inside along with Riley and some of our other friends. It was a night I will never forget. Calling her over and over with no answer. Racing here and finding out she was still inside. When she was finally rescued, we’d discovered she was hurt. She was rushed to the hospital and into emergency surgery—it was terrifying. Luckily Liv pulled through, fighter that she is.
It would be the first time Liv was back here. I knew it had to be messing with her. I wanted to protect her from all the bad. Same as with Em.
And look what happened with that, asshole.
You did a fantastic fucking job.
When Em walked into the living room, I felt like a book cliché. My heart skipped a beat, my knees became weak, my blood boiled, my dick twitched. She looked exquisite. And expensive. Her dress, her shoes, her hair, and face. Her nails with the sparkly ring-fingers.
I wanted to see those blood-red nails and lips on my dick. Her plump, pouty lips wrapped around it, her nails attached to the fingers that’d be fisting whatever she couldn’t take down her throat. I could still remember vividly the first time she took me in her mouth—and fuck, I couldn’t go there. Not now. Maybe later.
Emma wasn’t the same girl who had to save every penny for her prom gown. One I would have gladly bought her—and offered to—anything and everything—but she refused. She wanted to do it on her own. She always said no every time I wanted to splurge on her. I absolutely hated it then. I could respect it now. Doesn’t mean that if I’m ever afforded the opportunity to shower her with luxuries in the future, I wouldn’t do it. I was doing every fucking thing and I wasn’t taking no for an answer. She deserved the best. She deserved it all.
It looks like she could provide for herself nicely though. She mentioned owning her own business—and from her outfit, it looked like she made a killing. Just like her—she was killing it.
She was killing me.
I wanted to do the same to her. It’s why I went out and got a haircut and bought a brand-new suit and paid out of the ass to have all the alterations done by tonight. It’s why I’m clean-shaven and sporting Tom Ford. It’s why I’m polished and spit-shined and going to get so much shit from my friends from here to eternity.
When going out, I tend to look good for the ladies—nowadays for appearances’ sake only. Tonight, I was dressed to impress with intent—I was dressed to fucking slay.
And that’s what I did.
But not in a good goddamn way.
I watched Em across the room for a bit. I didn’t want to stalk over to her like she was my prey and pounce the moment she walked through the door.
But other guys were circling. I knew they would.
Why the hell didn’t she come with Jax and Sky?
Those assholes were probably pulling a Connor and Riley.
It didn’t matter though, I was here. And on my watch, nobody would bother her.
Except me, apparently.
I made my way over to her and the closer I got the more I knew I’d been wrong. Emma wasn’t just exquisite. She was the most beautiful I’d ever seen her. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, period. Eclipsing all others.
Her black dress was sequined and shiny and covering a lot of skin, but I’d never seen her more sexy, more seductive, or alluring. The long-sleeved dress came up to her neck and went down to the floor, but it was more tempting, teasing, and taunting than her prom dress that exposed her creamy thighs, her ample tits, and the smooth column of her back and neck. She also had fuck-me heels on that I wanted to see wrapped around my hips or resting over my shoulders. Or hanging off the bed as I took her from behind at the edge of it, her on her hands and knees, me standing behind her, her dress hiked up, her panties pulled to the side, my pants unzipped and low enough for my dick to pound inside of her.
Jesus Christ.
Another thing to fantasize about later.
I blame my fantasy-induced haze for the fucked-up shit I allowed to come out of my mouth when I was close enough to touch her, to breathe her in. When I was close enough to take her into my arms and taste her—if she’d only just allow it already.
Thinking back on all the shit I said to her…I really don’t know what the hell I was thinking saying that to her. It was cruel, like I said. Completely careless. And then she became the same way.
“We are never getting married, and I am not having your babies.”
It spiraled from there. And I blame another kind of haze—a red one? a black one? a blind one?—for what I said when she questioned our love when we were teenagers, when she questioned our future, when she questioned me.
I fucking hated it.
I also hated that I understood it.
I tried to apologize for a lot of things even after she gave me words that damn near crushed me and my soul, but she didn’t want to hear any of it.
I wish that I didn’t hear certain things either.
“My dream was always you. You were my dream. I wanted all of that—I wanted all of that and more—I wanted everything—because it was you with me. You were my dream. But then you became my nightmare. Once-upon-a-time I couldn’t wait to close my eyes and see you and what we’d become together. And after that night? It wasn’t that I wanted to not dream of you. It was that I wished I never met you…You seriously broke my life and what I thought I wanted. I don’t know what I even want anymore.”
No matter how many times I apologized, or how many times I still will, I did that to her. Whether intentional or not…I did that. I did other things too.
I could see that we’d be going nowhere good, just only getting worse, so I decided to leave her be. Ten years ago, I knew how to talk to her. I’d make her smile and laugh. I’d fill her up with love and light. She’d practically glow for me. Now, all I produced was a glower.
I turned away from her and made my way towards the bar where I spotted Jenks. If I couldn’t do shit about me and Em, the least I could do is check on my sister.
When I got to the bar, I asked him where she was. From his look, I knew it wasn’t good. I didn’t realize just how bad it actually was. After he gave me a whole bunch of shit, including a lot of fucks and fancy’s—half of which I didn’t understand—Jenks finished by telling me that Liv was with my fucking parents. With them and not him. I asked Jenks for the entire story after that—because seriously, what the fuck?—and it really wasn’t good. My parents were on the brink of ruining another relationship. No fucking way was I letting it happen again.
And neither was he.
Never in a million years would I have picked Jenks for my sister. Not because he wasn’t a good man, but because of the shit he was involved in. Jenks is an undercover cop. And he’s in deep. So deep he’s now known as Roman Mathers. They nearly got Liv killed—twice. And what he’s working on still isn’t done yet. But he loves my sister more than anything. And she loves him too. She was an adult, she could make her own decisions, and I knew he’d protect her above all else and at all costs—from criminals, evil monsters, my fucking parents who were worse than any other bottom-feeder he’s ever encountered.
I knew there was a lot to their story I didn’t know—but what I did—I wouldn’t tell. I couldn’t. Their lives depended on my silence. Their story was their own.
But I had to make sure that they had a chance at their happy ending. Jenks left her alone with my parents. He and I needed to get some shit straight about that. Which we did. After I gave him a ‘come to Jesus’ talk—a talk I should’ve had with myself before I opened my mouth in front of Em before—he left to go get my sister and make things right.
How in the hell did I have all the right words for Detective Matthew Jenks?
But I didn’t have them for the love of my goddamn life?
It wasn’t only one-sided though. Matt had a few choice words for me too before he left. Of course he did. It’s always the stoic, quiet, mysterious motherfuckers who have the perfect parting shots they leave behind in their wake.
