Scorned (14 page)

Years back, it used to be Carter and me, but he grew out of it and started to hang out with boys only, so I was mostly alone with my nanny around. I was only allowed to go to school then straight home. From time to time, I was allowed to sleep over at my friend’s house, but apart from those, I was very lonely.

I was worried about Uncle Brandon getting mad at me after what happened last night, but when I saw Jane and how he acted like it didn’t happen, I was beyond relieved. I’d never been to a circus, so this was an exciting treat for me.

A couple hours later, we dropped off Jane first since her house was on the other side of the city. I was still thinking about all the acrobatic stunts when Uncle Brandon said something about what I had witnessed the night before.

“Sweetie, do you know what you saw last night?” he gently asked, eyes on the road.

What did I see last night? “I thought you were hurting Mom, but she told you to keep going.”

He sighed then, pulling over on the private road before he found a tree to park next to. “I’ll try to explain this to you, but you have to promise me, Lindsey, that you won’t tell your father.”

All the more curious now because I knew even then that when adults tell you not to say something or repeat anything, that meant it was top secret and shouldn’t be spoken about. “I promise, Uncle Brandon. Dad and I don’t talk much, anyway.”

“I’m sorry about that, sweetie. Your dad loves your mom very much, but your mom has things like a lot of women, needs. Sometimes, when you need something, you start looking for it, right?” he tried to explain it to me, trying to break it down.

“Yeah.” I nodded, frowning. “So, Mom needed something from you?”

He cleared his throat, thinking. “She did. I didn’t give it to her before, but your mother is a very determined woman. When a beautiful woman does everything in her power to get something, most of them succeed.”

I knew Mommy was very pretty. Dad told her every day. “So, what did Mommy want that you didn’t want to give to her before?”

He muttered something, before looking at me. “Tickles.”

She wanted tickles? That was the top secret? “I don’t understand.”

“Your mommy wanted special tickles that a man like me—like your dad—can give her,” he said, matter of factly.

I still didn’t understand. “Oh. Why is it so special? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Because only adults can share special tickles. When you grow up, you’re going to be a very beautiful woman, just like your mom. You’ll understand one day how beauty can be used to gain a lot of things.”

“You really think I’ll grow up beautiful like Mommy?” I gleefully asked, knowing how much I loved Mommy’s long, beautiful hair and how she looked so pretty all the time.

“Of course, sweetie.” Uncle Brandon smiled at me then, meaning every word.

His confirmation made me happy. “So when I’m old enough, you’ll show me the special tickles, Uncle Brandon?”

He stilled, shocked at my question. “Err, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Uncle Brandon shook his head, not believing me. “You won’t like it.”

I didn’t believe him. “If Mom did, I’d like it, too.”

He looked at me then, smiling. “You won’t. How about I’ll just tickle you instead, see if you like that?” he asked, his hand on my thigh.

Curious, I nodded—agreeing to him.

He lifted my skirt, asking me to slide my underwear off and sit back. When his finger touched my pee hole, it really tickled. It didn’t hurt. It felt funny as he touched me, watching my reaction. “Do you like it, sweetie?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“When the time comes, Uncle Brandon will be waiting for you for that special tickle, okay?” He withdrew his hand before putting it in his mouth, tasting it. “You’re going to be even more beautiful than your mom, sweetie, and you taste way sweeter.”

Chapter 18

The following day, I was getting my pedicure, browsing through a fashion magazine, when my phone shrilled, alerting me that there was a message. I was reading about ways on how to fight depression as I distractedly checked it. Then, I wished I hadn’t because it was an article about Dimitris in Greek, but thanks to easy translation in webpages now, I could understand what was being written about him.

Dimitris Kosta marrying French Socialite? Rumors are spreading fast when Claudine was seen coming out of one of the exclusive designer shops yesterday afternoon
.

They also attached photos of them coming out of the opera, smiling at the photographer. With a dry throat and a deadbeat heart, I enlarged the photo, zooming in on the both of them and then slowly sliding it to focus solely on Dimitris himself. He looked heart-wrenchingly gorgeous and utterly happy with Claudine.

See? Almost a month after telling me that he loved me, he easily went back to his old self. Any guilt or remorse I had about leaving Athens was squashed then, absolving me from it.

This was good. I wanted him happy. I truly did.

Biting my bottom lip, I shakily went to the settings so that they would stop sending me alerts when his name was being mentioned online.

When my mind drifted back to them, I mentally stopped myself.
Get over it
. He did, just as I asked him, just as I had pushed him to, just as I’d wanted him to. So stop dwelling and focus.

I knew I had to think about Brody and me, about where we could go from here and how I could go past my erected barriers that were so much a part of me. I wanted to slowly let him in. Hell, Emma took a chance at Carter after they broke up. She did the same again with Bass after they broke up. Emma was stronger than me, though. She trusted her heart, even if it led her to countless heartaches.

Could I do the same for Brody? I guess I could, right? If I loved him—because I truly did—then I should really get on it.

Sighing with a heavy heart, I knew it was time.

~L~

With a lot of help and some seriously major 911 sessions with Emma, she finally pushed me to do it after a week of changing my mind and being on the fence about letting some of my guard down.

Emma convinced me that if Brody really loved me, he’d understand and would be there with me every step of the way, without forcing anything from me.

So, ten minutes ago, I called him, asking if he could meet me here at home. He was apparently at a party, but decided to cut it short and meet me. I took that as a good sign because I’d want to be the first priority if he and I started dating.

Brody left a gaping mark in my heart when he slept with Cece years back, but I was willing to overlook that, if we could agree on something.

When I heard the chime of the doorbell, I jumped out of my bed, scrambling to get to the door. I took a big deep breath before yanking it open. “Hey!” I said, smiling.

Brody had ripped jeans, slippers and a wife-beater on, blatantly displaying his ripped arms and tight torso.

“Hey.” Brody seemed off, distant.

I was somehow too caught up with prepping myself to date him that I hadn’t realized that we might not now be on the same page. I wasn’t sure if it was because I hadn’t really spent that much time with him, not like before or he met someone else. Which was it? I guess, I’ll find out soon enough.

He followed behind me, towards my bedroom, not speaking at all, which was quite unusual for him. After I shut the door, I leaned against it; arms folded underneath my breasts, watching him go to the other side of the room and copying my stance.

“You didn’t have to leave the party, Brody. I said we could do it anytime. I never said right now.” Why was he being a dick? I didn’t
demand
for him to come here pronto.

“Well, I’m here now. What did you want to talk about?” Brody countered, still being a jackass.

This was not how I pictured it to going down. I was thinking along the lines of a heavy make-out session, talking about us and what we’d do together, our future. Maybe he was drunk or had a bad day, and I really should shake it off and have this talk some other time because right now wasn’t it. “I actually don’t feel like talking anymore, Brody.”

He was ticked off, growling. “You made me drive here and after two seconds, you tell me you don’t want to talk? Are you fucking with me, Lindsey?”

“Well, how do you suppose I talk to you when you’re being a complete ass the second I greet you at the door?” I vented back, accusing.

“Because you’re not playing fair. How do you expect me to be nice when you greet me at the door dressed like that?” He eyed my fitted, short cami and skimpy boy shorts. “All I can think about is fucking you. I’m going crazy here. So, I’m sorry if me being a jackass is the only way I know how to keep myself from pushing you against the bed and fucking you until I’m fucking through!”

Okay, he really was drunk. “It never bothered you before.”

“Why should it? You’d let me touch you whenever I could… but you haven’t let me even kiss you for the last month.”

“I’ll go ahead and change then.” I pushed myself off the door and darted towards my walk in closet, but he ended up following me there anyway.

Before I could even get my robe off the rack, he pulled me close and hugged me from behind. “I’m sorry, pookie, for being such a jerk just now.”

I nodded before spinning around in his arms, studying him. The face I loved all my life, dreamt of countless times. “Are you in love with me?”

My question didn’t even throw him off. “I’ve been in love with you… even way before you told me that you did, but you were my best friend’s baby sister so out of respect and love for the both of you, I stayed away and kept it to myself.” He held me tighter, almost crushing my breasts against his chest. “But you always did things to rouse me up. Even though I tried to ignore you, it’s you who I thought about before I went to sleep. It’s you who I wished safe every day, so no harm can come to you. It’s true…” Those dark depths searched my reflected own. “Loving you is the only thing that’s keeping me from doing something stupid tonight—after that night we spent together, I’ve been loyal to you, to my heart and body. All my life, I’ve been in love with you, Lindsey Mason.”

“I thought you started noticing me after I dated Cooper. I didn’t realize it went far and beyond that.” I was beaming, pleased that he’d been suffering along with me.

“How could I not? After you made me cookies that got me sick all night?”

I remembered, heart swelling. Soaring. Hopeful. “I love you, Brody.”

“Oh, so you finally decide to tell me after a year of chasing you around?” he teased, eyes shining with love before he pressed his lips against mine for a crushing minute, unmoving, then he met my gaze again. “Wait—does that mean that you’re agreeing to be my girlfriend? I know that you’d be cruel enough to tell me that you love me, but still break my heart.”

Damn, I was a certifiable, cold bitch and everyone simply knew it.
Not now, though
, I thought bravely, slowly letting him in. “I am—but I’m scared, Brody. I don’t know how to do this. I suck at relationships. I’ll say and do things that will piss you off. I’ve never been in one before. What if I’m awful as a girlfriend?”

“Then, I guess, I’ll just have to be extra amazing at being your boyfriend and forgive you when you’re being awful. We’ll figure this out together, pookie. Don’t be scared. I’m right here…” Brody cupped my cheeks, making me feel so loved that I was trying not to cry. “I’ll always put you first, before anyone else, before my needs, just to make sure you’re happy.”

Dear God, what took me so long to get here?
I wondered, feeling more idiotic by the second. For a brief second—a quick flash—Dimitris’s face popped into view before I blinked it away, hiding it, shutting it closed and never meaning to open it again. Dimitris was an experience that a bad girl had to feel—to live—even for the briefest amount of time, but those never last.
This
did.

“I know you’re probably past frustrated, but is it okay if we slow things down on the sex front? This might sound stupid after what we’ve been doing for the past year… but I want to do this right— I want us to enjoy each other without sex.” I watched him, peering to see his reaction, but his smiling face didn’t change, much to my relief.

Kissing me softly, he whispered in between kisses, “I’m at your command. As long as you’re with me, all the way, pookie, I won’t make it an issue.”

Linking my arms around his neck, I started to push-walk us towards my bed, wanting to drown and sink into the depths of his kisses. “I knew I loved you for a reason. Thank you for sticking it out with me even if I was the worst, unfathomably angriest freak of nature you’ve ever come across.”

“I love you—worst, unfathomable, freak of nature and all—so, don’t ever apologize for being yourself.”

How am I going to survive not having sex with him tonight if he kept saying these things? “Now you’re just being a suck-up! Still not getting laid tonight, Thompson,” I said as I inserted my hands inside the back of his jeans, inside his boxers, getting my hands full of his tight ass while my nails bit through his supple skin.