“I do, Tap. Really.” I think he wants this.
Fucking thankful for our friendship and his trust.
I’m a fucking mess as I ride up the elevator. I haven’t seen her in over six months. What if she hates me? What if restaurant man is there? Maybe I should have called first.
Dumbass. Too late for that now. You’re standing in front of her door.
I tap and wait. I can’t remember ever feeling so damn nauseous in my life.
Wren opens the door and I immediately know Stout didn’t call when I hear her say my name. “Brou?”
“Should I have called?” Yes, I should have. I see it in her wide eyes and slack jaw. You’re an idiot for showing up unannounced like this, Broussard. “I’m sorry. I assumed you would be expecting me after the meeting with Savan Cider.”
“Umm, I was waiting to hear from Ollie about the books. I thought we’d probably schedule a business meeting for tomorrow if things looked promising.” Of course she did. Because that makes sense. Not this—showing up at her door without so much as a courtesy call.
“A business meeting. Of course.” I need to steer this back between the lines. “But since I’m here, do you want to talk about what I found in the books?”
Wren looks over her shoulder and then back at me. “Now’s not a great time. I have company.” That’s a no. And fuck me, I think her company is him. Restaurant guy.
“Lawrence, should I take the risotto off the stove?” I hear a man’s voice call out from the kitchen. Fuck. He’s here with her.
“Yes, please. Thank you,” she calls back.
“You’re cooking for him.” Not me. The thought makes me insane with jealousy.
She makes no reply.
“You’ve moved on.” Without me.
She looks over her shoulder again. Making sure he isn’t there to hear her. “Brou. I waited months for you to change your mind. All I wanted was for you to call and say you’d consider the things I want. But you didn’t. And it broke my heart all over again.”
I’m here now. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
“Not too late for what?”
There he is standing behind her. Hippie restaurant owner. Skinny with curly blond hair in a topknot. “Hey, baby. The risotto is getting sticky.”
Fuck.
The.
Risotto.
Hearing him call her baby sends me into a red-visioned rage. She’s mine, man bun. Not yours.
“Lee, this is Lucas Broussard. He’s my brother’s business partner at Lovibond. And possibly mine as well if we buy the cider company.”
Hippie Lee wipes his hand on a kitchen towel and comes over for a shake. “Hey, man. Good to meet you.”
There’s no recognition in his eyes. She hasn’t even mentioned me?
This guy has no idea I’m more than her brother’s business partner. No clue how many times we’ve fucked like animals. Not an inkling that we’re in love. Or at least I thought we were.
Fuck. Am I really too late?
“Nice to meet you.”
His hand is on her lower back. I swear I’ll break it if he doesn’t take it off her in two seconds.
“Lucas was just leaving so I’m going to walk him to the elevator. Go ahead and plate dinner. I’ll be right back.” I’m being dismissed.
“You got it, babe.” Again, with babe. Nails down a chalkboard would be less offensive.
She comes out and closes the door behind us.
“What time do you want to meet?”
I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. “Call me when he leaves.” Fuck. What if he spends the night?
She tilts her head and lifts a brow. “I meant what time do you want to have our business meeting tomorrow?”
“I know what you meant, but I want to see you tonight.” I’m settling by not meeting with her now. “Call me after Hippie Lee leaves.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t do that.”
We both know she can. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t push one man out and bring another in through a revolving door.”
She can push Hippie Lee out but once I’m in, I plan on staying. “It wouldn’t be like that.”
“Then what would it be like?”
“Call me and you’ll find out.”
She lowers her face and holds her forehead with her hand. Please don’t hide those beautiful blues from me, Wren. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you were attacked. I didn’t know.” I pull her in so her body is cocooned inside my arms. I’ve missed this smell. Feeling my body wrapped around hers. I fucked up so bad. I don’t want to go another day without this woman in my life. “Let me come after he’s gone, Wren.”
She clears her voice and straightens. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Another no. Fuck. And dismissal.
I kiss the top of her head before releasing my hold. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
She’s going to make me work for this. And she should. I fucked up big time.
The elevator’s downward arrow illuminates to alert me of its arrival. I stand a few extra seconds before entering, hoping Wren will call me back. But she doesn’t.
I step inside and turn around. She’s still standing there staring at me. Looking so sad. And it’s all because of me. My stupidity.
I’m so sorry for the way things ended.
I wait until the very last moment, not even a full second, before the doors shut to call out, “I love you, Wren.”
Let her think about that while she eats fucking risotto with that hippie wanker.
Lawrence Thorn
That fucking Cajun bastard! Not a single word from him in six months. Not a call or text. I can’t believe that jackhole had the audacity to waltz his ass over to my apartment without any kind of warning. And then stand there looking so damn delicious. Made me want to jump on him right then and there, despite the fact Lee was in the next room.
You’re cooking for him. You’ve moved on. How dare he act like I’m somehow betraying him by having dinner with another man?
Should I have called? Well, I guess not unless you want to barge into my apartment on the off chance I might have someone with me.
Please tell me it’s not too late. Too late for what? Dammit. Why did Lee have to walk up at the very moment he was about to tell me?
I want to see you tonight. Call me when he leaves. What is that about? Sex? Does he really think he can come to town after six months have passed without a bit of communication and woo me into the sack? Well, he probably . . . Fuck, I’m not going to finish addressing that, even in my head.
It wouldn’t be like that. Call me and you’ll find out. Let me come over after he’s gone, Wren. What the fuck is that about?
I love you, Wren. I can’t believe he said that to me as the elevator doors were closing. Bastard.
“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden. And you seem to have lost your appetite.” I’ve been pushing mushroom risotto around my plate for fifteen minutes without a bite.
“Just thinking about Savan Cider. It’s a big move for me to go from a retail store to the brewery business.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Lawrence. I know your potential partner at Savan Cider is what you’re really thinking about.”
Lee’s right and I owe him an apology. “I’m sorry. I had no idea he would show up here like that. It’s thrown me for a bit of a loop.”
“He’s the one?” What does Lee mean when he says the one?
The one who showed me what butterflies felt like?
The one I can’t hate? Not even a little bit although I try my damnedest.
The one I want to hug so tightly I fit all his broken pieces back together?
The one my heart is talking about when it whispers he’s it?
If that’s what Lee means then the answer is yes. And I can tell by the way he’s looking at me he sees that all over my face. “I’m sorry.”
Lee pushes a
way from the table and takes his plate to the sink. “There’s clearly something there besides Savan Cider dealings to tend.” I can’t disagree with him. Brou and I are unfinished business.
“You’ll need to take care of whatever’s going on if you want us to go any further.” Do I want things to go further with him?
This is my fourth date with Lee since my breakup with Brou. I haven’t let him go beyond kissing me. I pushed his hand away when he tried to slip it down the waist of my skirt. I let Brou do that to me the weekend we met and was going to let him do so much more. Was totally bummed when we were unable to take it further.