Love Without End (3 page)

“Hey, Heeeey!” I blink quickly to the snapping fingers in my face as Brielle brings me out of my moment of flashback as she laughs from her lounger chair. “So, Special Space Cadet, I took the liberty of ordering drinks. Before you throw your “Oooh Brie, I don’t wanna drink a lot, I have work tomorrow” bit just deal because well, I invited company for tonight.” She smiles that deviant, up-to-no-good smile that I know too well to feel comfortable. I begin looking around to find misplaced or lurking men, but I come up empty handed. Why must she mess with girls’ night at the Yacht Lot, and why am I suddenly concerned with my appearance?
I am a professional businesswoman for fuck sake, of course I am up to appropriate standards, pull yourself together Hannah!

“Brielle, a little notice is only polite you know!?” Rolling my eyes at her as I rake my fingers through my wavy locks, I catch her eyes as they shift to a focal point behind me and widen. Instinctively, my body stiffens, sending a silent prayer that I remain alive and non-victimized by the end of the evening. Thankfully, a server delivers two Pink Punk Cosmos to the table, and before Brielle turns around one is empty and the other is nearly a mirrored image. All I can manage is a smirk and shoulder shrug.

“Serious Han, you will be wasted in five minutes, I need a loaf of bread over here STAT!” The latter half of that statement is more of a shout, and I burst into laughter and cover my face. Brielle was not born with a filter, and because of that, everyone lives with her diarrhea of the mouth.

Another floor server approaches the table with the complimentary loaf of warm pumpernickel break, and two more drinks, eyeing me suspiciously before informing me that the tab had been started and our guests had arrived. This unwelcomed news earned him a groan and scowl from yours truly.

“Brie, I swear to the sky above, if these guys are asshats you are fired as my best friend. Also,” sipping my Cosmo watching her eyes drift past me as I talk hearing voices near, “it is going to take a whole lot more than a few pansy ass girly Cosmos to get me wasted!” I turn my head to follow her “gawking like a teenager” face, while trying to contain my snicker over her behavior before going completely ramrod straight in my lounger. “Brielle Dawn, why in the fuck is Carter Jacobs walking towards this table?” I whisper scold her. She looks from Carter and another guy positioned just out of my viewing range and casually pops her shoulder before standing to greet them.

“Heya Sparky, long time no see! Who’s Mr. Hotty McHotPants there?” Brielle has one arm wrapped around Carter’s waist and the other against my chair providing a barrier much to my relief. I needed to catch my breath after seeing his face. I avoided him every visit back home over the past two years, it’s just too hard to face all the “what could’ve been’s” I left behind. I sit and listen to the introduction of the mystery man; apparently, Braydon Gibson is Carter’s co-worker and, from what I can now see of him, he is built to the likes of a male model, muscle precision and perfectly tanned. “Where are my manners?" Brielle sings and scoots to the side just slightly so that Braydon can now see me. "Braydon, this is Han. Han, Braydon. Now everyone sit.” Brielle takes her seat to the right of me and squeezes my leg, causing me to let go of a breath I had been holding in and opening my eyes. Time to face the music… no more running.

“Braydon.” Standing, I shake his offered hand directly across the table before he takes the seat in the lounger next to Brielle, clearly everyone knew what this whole little meet up was about, everyone except for me. I give Carter a weak smile and we both sit down. I clear my throat and ask, “What brings you fellas down to West Palm?” Before they can respond, I drain my Cosmo, and lift the glass to the air, signaling for a server to approach the table. I am definitely going to need something stronger than a fru fru drink for this.

My typical Wednesday night waiter approaches for the new drink order, “2 Crownes on the rocks – make ‘em doubles, another fru fru Cosmo for Brie, and I’d like a filthy bitch.” I ramble off the drink order without consulting anyone at the table and now suddenly have three sets of eyes glued to me.

“Whaaat?” That open-ended question was a bad idea. Carter is rubbing his forehead, Braydon is trying to refrain from laughing, and Brie – well Brie’s mouth is opening and closing like a damned guppy fish. William, our dutiful waiter, winks and saunters away without hesitation.

After a few more attempts to talk, Brie finally manages, "filthy bitch?" I raise a brow to her question before she amends, "Han, sweet baby Jesus in a manger, please tell me that you ordered a drink and not a hooker!?"

I sit back and stare at her in complete befuddlement. Seriously, how in the world is this gorgeous woman so damned obtuse sometimes? "No Brielle, I ordered a call girl to take my place, so I could call it a night and take off before it gets any later.” Oh great, here comes the guppy again, except now Braydon and Carter are full on laughing while I just sit there expressionless. Yeah, cause the Yacht Lot staffs hookers.

I take a seat at the bar facing the outside seating area bouncing my leg propped up on the metal bar of the barstool, Braydon to my left appearing as anxious as I am.

“Dude, I feel like we are stalkin’ your girl,” he shoots my way before taking a pull from his Corona.

“Not, stalkin’ Bray. Brielle said they were sitting in the outdoor patio and to wait until she gets her a drink before I approach.” I grin watching the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known being shown to a table.

“Alright,” is all he says before turning back towards the bar, watching the fishing program on the flat screen.

She’s a sight for sore eyes that’s for sure; it’s been a while since she was last back home. She just flew in, stayed with her parents and helped her mom out at the bakery; didn’t seek me out, told everyone to keep the visits on the down low. Complete avoidance – I let her have it her way. I promised to give her space until she was ready. What I have been told by Brie, Tracie, and David as of recent, is that she is happy, settled, ready. So here I am, and even though I am not very confident in all they have said, I know it’s true once she turned towards the bar where I am sitting and flashes a beaming smile.

Her honey blonde locks rested in waves on her shoulders that were covered with a navy blue dress, her bronze skin glistened against the setting sun. Quickly she turned; clearly not finding what she was searching for, and is now facing the sunset. The one time of day my heart aches no matter what or where I am. I grab my whiskey tumbler and throw back the last drink of the amber liquid preparing me for what could go great or absolutely terrible and walk towards her table.

Standing here watching her take deep breaths keeps bringing back memories of that February night. Returning her weak smile, I sink down into the lounger next to her, reminding myself to be calm and natural – this is nothing more than dinner and drinks, a reunion of sorts. I prepared Braydon for the possible dispositions of the evening - the awkward tense Hannah, or the laid back raising hell Han that stole my heart at fifteen. I register her question of what brings us to Florida and begin to answer just as she drains another one of those pink drinks. Since we’ve been here for a while standing back just observing that makes at least three, at this rate she may turn into obnoxious drunk Hannah in about fifteen minutes. Before Braydon or I can begin speaking a waiter arrives at the table, and Han spouts off a drink order for the table. I guess that’s Crowne for the guys, Brielle gets the Cosmo, and she’s having a filthy bitch. Instinctively, I stare at her, we are either silently reminiscing our college drinking days, or she wants to get through the night and forget it ever happened.

I find myself laughing at Brie’s face, she can’t seem to form a thought or at least process enough to speak, and Hannah is just blankly staring at her idiocy. I laugh harder as Hannah tells Brielle that she has ordered a call girl, then causing everyone around us to stop and stare. Oh, the mouth on her sure hasn’t changed one bit. After everyone collects themselves, I respond to the initial question, “We just decided to take a little vacation to the Sunshine State, Sunshine.” That earns me a glower and those caramel brown eyes to darken as they roll, so I continue with slight sarcasm “or perhaps I think it’s time to talk and because I am fully aware of the recent promotion you received, I knew you wouldn’t high tail it out of here. Oh and uh, Congrats Han.” She sighs just as the waiter delivers the drinks and we all place our order.

The food arrives and I catch myself watching her, she still has the same mannerisms as she did a few years ago – slurp the soup, dip the fries in peppered ketchup, and absolutely no food can touch. Her aura is different; she is confident, poised, and putting out sex pheromones like never before. I mean, I love this woman, I have since we were teens, but something is different, the question is will she break down and let me back in or will she continue to live this life like I don’t exist and our past never happened. She looks over at me just as she is lifting a french fry to her mouth and winks, just as she slowly inserts it in her mouth. I squint my eyes to her and smirk, I know what she is doing, and I hope she remembers two can play this game. After another round of drinks and general conversation, it is time to determine where the hell I am going to stay while I am down here. Yes, one could call it poor planning, I call it knowing Brie has its advantages. Looking to Hannah I ask, “I need to know what hotels are around here, so I can book us a place to crash.”

Han just laughs and says the Ritz but just as she spits out the comment, sweet Brielle opens that filter-less mouth of hers. “Hannah owns a hotel, practically, well not really, but kind of, right Han? She is only one person and it has like four bedrooms, a family room, a game room, a pool, and hot tub. I mean, just crash with us.” I look between the girls watching the glare and ‘did you just say that out loud’ expression from Hannah as Brielle just continues sipping her drink and batting her lashes. I think it’s a sure bet that someone is getting laid tonight. After about fifteen minutes, Hannah sighs and mumbles to me that we can stay at her place because there is plenty of space. I smile and wink as she pulls out her cell phone. I know I have a little bit of a chance if we are in confined spaces. The sexual tension is so tight you could cut it with a knife.

I knew better than to have everyone back here after drinks and dinner, but everybody had an excessive amount to drink and I have more than enough space here. Most generally, that’s why when Brielle’s or my parents visit they stay with us here. And I am not a cruel person and it hasn’t been terrible to catch up with Carter especially since we didn’t cover anything beyond our recent history. But the sexual tension in the town car on the way home was so thick I found myself struggling to catch my breath. I would love to blame it on Braydon McHotPants (Brie’s moniker, not mine) and her eye fucking on the way home, however I’d be lying to myself even more than I have over the past two years. There is no denying my internal attraction to Carter with his deep chocolate irises - the kind that sear through your soul, tall frame stacked in defined muscles, and confidence he exudes in all things he does.