Read Beautifully Used (The Beaumont Brothers Book 2) Online
Authors: Susan Griscom
I arranged all the food on
some pretty, black and white rose plates that I had found in the cupboard. I thought it weird that Brodie had such delicate, feminine china and then remembered that he’d inherited almost everything in this place along with the house. I set the plates out on the coffee table in the living room. I was in the mood for a movie, and hoped Brodie would be on board with that, but when he came walking in without a shirt, all thoughts of a movie left my mind. Why did he have that effect on me now? I guess he’d always had the ability to turn my knees to jelly and make my heart go pitter-patter, but up until recently, I never wanted to give in to them. Relief came when he yanked a black t-shirt over his head before joining me on the sofa in front of the table. The skin-tight shirt clung to all his curvy muscles though, and I had to suck in a breath while keeping my mind busy with the placement of food on the table before I found myself stroking the palms of my hands down the front of his chest.
“So, what are we celebrating?”
“It seems that we’ve got a huge gig down in Southern California.”
“Really? That’s great. Where exactly
and when?”
“
Next week in Malibu, and it’s with a celebrity.” Her eyes lit up with excitement as her lips formed into the prettiest smile.
“Who?”
“Gerard Butler.”
“Oh my God! You’re joking.”
“Nope. It’s for real.”
“Gerard Butler? That’s amazing.”
Brodie filled me in about the offer and told me that the band wanted me to join them, to my relief. Of course, I agreed. It didn’t take much convincing with Jeff being out of jail. No way did I want to be left here alone. That idea scared the crap out of me.
“God, I’m starving,” he said with a piece of a Godzilla roll between his fingers before plopping it in his mouth. “Awesome idea you had.” He grinned. “I’m glad you waited.”
“It’s not much fun eating sushi alone. Besides, I just got home a little while ago too.”
He gave me a questioning look before
picking up the bottle of saké.
I shrugged. “I spent most of the evening with Lena
until Jackson called her to the bar. At least now I know why.” I supposed the only reason Jackson hadn’t asked me to come to the bar with her was so that he could make sure the rest of the band would want me along. Or maybe it had been Brodie that suggested I join them. I voted for the latter as my stomach did a jittery flip at the thought. “Anyway, I didn’t really want to …” I paused, not sure how much I wanted to tell him about my fears of staying home alone.
“Didn’t want to what?” he asked since I didn’t continue on with the sentence.
“Nothing.” I shook my head and forced a smile. He opened the bottle of saké and filled the two tiny cups I had found in the cupboard. They looked just like the little cups you got at a Japanese restaurant when you ordered hot saké.
“We’re roommates now, Gabrielle. You can trust me.”
He was right. We should be honest with each other … “I didn’t want to be here alone.”
He nodded
and picked up another roll and ate it. After sipping the saké, he said, “How are you? I mean, how are you coping with things?”
“Oh, I’m settling in okay. I really l
ike it here. Your house is cozy.” I smiled and snatched up one of the rolls.
He gave me a sideways glance and frowned. “Gab
by. You know what I mean.”
I stopped, roll halfway to my lips and stared at him. He’d called me Gabby. He had never called me Gabby before.
Not that I remembered, anyway. I bit my lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Truth?
“Truth.”
I inhaled a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “I don’t like being here alone. And I haven’t been sleeping much.”
“I had a feeling. I uh…
thought I heard you the other night.”
“Sorry if I woke you. I had a bad dream.”
“About the uh …”
I nodded and sipped at the
cool rice wine. It soothed my throat as well as my nerves while it made its way down my throat.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Besides, what’s there to talk about? We both already know what happened. But I swear, Brodie, I did not lead him on the way he and that girl said.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” I questioned. “Because, well, you know, you and I haven’t exactly had the best experience in that area either. And I know you thought I wanted …”
“You’re wrong,” he interrupted
and I swallowed a lump of air as if I’d been holding my breath. He shook his head and looked me in the eye. “You never led me on. I’d just assumed you were like all the other women I’d met. That’s usually all they ever want from me.”
“You don’t really believe that do you?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. That’s all I’d wanted from them.”
Wanted. He
’d said
wanted
, past tense as if he suddenly didn’t think that way anymore. I wondered if I should ask the question burning inside my mind. I decided it was time. Roommates needed to be upfront with each other, right?
Before I could put a zipper on my lips, I blurted out,
“Why do you do it?”
He laughed, but it sounded more like a nervous chuckle.
“Seriously, why do you sleep around so much?”
He grimaced into his small cup of
saké and then downed its contents. He smacked his lips and poured more of the cold clear liquid into his cup. Ignoring my question, he held up the bottle toward my cup and I nodded for him to fill it. It was good saké, and maybe if we drank some more I’d get him to talk to me.
“
Like I said, it doesn’t matter. They were just there. That’s all you really need to know.”
“Wait, I thought we were being honest here. You know, roommates trusting each other and all that.”
He shook his head. “How about you tell me about this book you wrote and the one you’re writing now. What made you decide to write it?”
“You’re changing the subject,” I accused.
It was obvious to me that Brodie Beaumont was not ready to give in and reveal what demons lurked inside him, or what drove him to engage in so many meaningless amorous affairs. At least not yet.
“Nope, just a
djusting it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’d wager there are some pretty deep, dark secrets hidden among all those words in that book you wrote, or possibly some pretty racy sex scenes. Otherwise, why would you even think about using a pseudonym instead of your real name? Maybe even more so in the one you’re writing now, so I figure, if you’re willing to reveal what those are, I’ll give in and tell you some of my deep dark secrets.”
Gabrielle
harbored an image of me in that pretty mind of hers that I hated. Like I was some philanderer out looking for the next great lay. I suppose I deserved the rep, but I didn’t like it, or want it. Not anymore.
Especially not from her.
I’ll admit, I’ve used women, but not any more than they’ve used me. I’d figured it was more of a service to them than anything else, and they never seemed to mind. I always made sure they knew exactly where they stood with me before I ever even kissed them. Sounds a bit shallow I know, but it’s the truth. Yes, I have issues, things I don’t like to think about, let alone talk about. Nasty, unpleasant events that drove me to do the things I’ve done, and act the way I have over the past few years. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to have a conversation about all of that just yet, but I was willing to divulge a little, just to show good faith. Maybe sharing a bit about that time in my life would help her open up to me about hers. I needed to know why she seemed to be so frightened of men. I also wondered if maybe her past played a part in what happened in the woods with Jeff. Made worse by the fact that the bastard didn’t know how to respect the rejection.
I decided to be as direct as possible.
“If I answer your question, will you tell me why you can’t handle being touched?” From the shocked look on her face, maybe that was too direct. I don’t think I’d ever seen her eyes grow so large. My candor had her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink, and I instantly regretted my fucking insensitivity. “Sorry,” I quickly added. “That was rude and you didn’t deserve it.”
She surprised me with, “No. It’s an honest question, and … you of all people
probably deserve an answer, considering … everything.” By “everything,” I assumed she meant the attack as well as the slap she’d given me last year, but I wasn’t sure, so I stayed silent and let her continue.
She scraped one of her chopsticks against the outside of one of the rolls
, removing some of the little black seeds that they’d stuck on there for some unknown reason. “I don’t
dislike
being touched. When I slapped you, well, you took me by surprise. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Raising an eyebrow at that
, I popped another sushi roll into my mouth, chewing while I let her continue, curious now. The thought that Gabrielle Demeres may have actually liked that kiss fleetingly floated through my mind. I didn’t want to press my luck on that one.
“I was
n’t prepared for your roaming hands. We’d just met … like two hours earlier. I wasn’t going to jump into bed with you that quickly. You had no right to do that.”
That quickly
? My mind raced with sudden lust and I had to calm myself with a stern warning to take things slowly. I was beginning to believe that maybe she had liked the kiss after all. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, and I accepted your apology then. No need to keep saying you’re sorry.”
“Well, I am. I just want you to believe it.”
She smiled. “I do.” She bit into one of the rolls and chewed reflectively. “
Besides, you’re nothing like that guy I met last year.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m still the same heartless
moron.”
She chuckled.
“No. Something’s changed.”
She was half right.
Something had changed, but I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly, and I wasn’t thrilled that the conversation had circled back to me. “Are you going to tell me about the book you wrote?” I asked quickly, wanting to take the subject off me and back to her.
She inhaled and placed the chopsticks across her plate. “Okay. It’s sort of dark and edgy. There’s this girl who goes off to college and finds a strange book in the dorm room she just moved into. Weird things begin to happen to her after she begins reading it. I got the idea my first week in San Diego. I’d been unable to sleep one night
, and I found this book in the room. It was a fantasy novel, which I usually like, but this particular story seemed too unbelievable. So out of boredom, I decided to give it a try. It was okay, but as I was reading, I kept wanting it to take a different turn, and imagined different scenarios to the ending. That’s how I came up with the idea to write my own story. Using magic as the theme, I jotted down a plotline that I thought would work. Anyway, the girl in my story had grown up in a … troubled home, and the magic in the book helps her cope with things.”
“What kind of troubled home?” I asked, wondering if the girl in the story was actually her.
She sank back against the cushions, swiping her hair back behind her. It was so long and silky I wanted to run my fingers through it. “Um … you know, the typical bad childhood, parents that didn’t give a damn, moved around a lot so friendships never stuck, stuff like that.”
I nodded. What a generic description, yeah, it was her.
“Well, you know there’s that old saying about writing what you know, so how were you able to write about a troubled girl?”
She laughed.
“What?”
“Have you ever heard of the
Internet?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Research, Brodie.” She gave me a little smirk. “While it is true, writers do like to write what they know so that when it comes to facts and how someone reacts they can make a story believable, not everything we write is real. That’s why they call it fiction.”
“Right.
But how do you figure out the right emotion?”
“I don’t know. I guess the same way actors do.” She paused for a second
, took one of the Edamame beans and nibbled at the tip of it, then turned it toward me as if it were a pointer. “That’s why I did that thing a few weeks ago. Remember? In the hallway?”
“Yep.”
How could I forget? It was the most bizarre thing I’d ever seen. I still didn’t believe that she’d been acting. Something must have happened to Gabrielle in her past. Something horrible I decided.
“Yeah
, and then you accused me of being on drugs.” She laughed and slugged me in the shoulder.
I decided to table this conv
ersation and move on. “I almost forgot; the band wants to practice every night until we leave next Thursday. You up for it?”
“Sure. It’ll be fun.”