Secret Regrets (Living For Today #2) (10 page)

After Leslie finally released me, I gasped for air as my lungs were finally able to expand again. “Leslie! I missed you too, but you were on your hon-ey-moon,” I said enunciating each word slowly and tilting my head toward Grant. “I figured you’d be a little occupied and—”

“No. No excuses! And where is Bryant? Between you two, I’m not sure who to kill first. I should not hear my best friend picked a date over the Internet. Cruel, Rose Barnes, cruel!” She narrowed her eyes and mustered up a terrifying glare.

Grant put an arm around her and laughed. “Leslie, dear, take it easy on her. You knew Bryant was going to force her to pick a date soon. He wants an enjoyable honeymoon like I got, I’m sure.”

Judging by the eye roll that followed, I thought that was a bold-faced lie.

“We should have just got married the same day and honeymooned together,” Grant continued, griping. “That way, I wouldn’t have heard her ask a million times what did I think you were doing.” Grabbing the suitcase handle, he began walking toward the baggage-claim area.

Giggling, Leslie hooked her arm into mine, tangling the two together and pulling me toward Grant. “Oh, don’t let him fool you. He got
plenty
of attention,” she said with a wink at me. “So what’s been going on? Anything exciting?” This with a raised eyebrow. She analyzed me as I shifted in place. “Oh, this must be good. Do we need wine?”

I nodded and answered, “Bottles and bottles.”

“Grant!” Leslie called, gaining his attention. Releasing me a moment, she went up to him and whispered in his ear. After a few nods and a grunt, she gave him a passionate kiss that confirmed the attention she’d given on their honeymoon and came back to me and turned me toward the exit.

“Um, is he meeting us in the car?” I questioned, looking over my shoulder at Grant who stood waiting for their luggage. Just as I turned to look forward again, I saw him pull out his phone.

“I don’t know. I told him to catch a cab, but I’d bet he is calling Bryant and asking him to come. You and I, my friend, are going out. You said
bottles
, and… well, I think I only got half of one at home.”

As we strolled to the car, I felt the relief of having Leslie home. She was exactly what I needed to soothe me and put everything into perspective. By the end of the night, I’d probably have my ass chewed out, cry a little, laugh a lot, and feel a whole hell of a lot better. Best thing about best friends? Nothing got held back, and everything would be hashed out without judgment. Okay, maybe a little judgment, but in the end, we’d still be friends, and would still love each other unconditionally.

Looking over at me, Leslie detoured to the liquor store along the way home. “Change of plans. I’ll be right back.” In no time at all, Leslie was back out with the biggest bottle of tequila I had ever seen.

Oh,
goodness me.

I could feel my stomach clench up as my nerves came to a head when we pulled into the apartment complex. This was it; the Leslie interrogation was upon me. She’d even taken me to her place instead of somewhere public. She either knew it was really bad or planned to grill me like a terrorist in Guantanamo Bay.

As soon as we got inside, she poured us each a double shot, and so it began.

Three shots later, Leslie had yet to probe. That was so un-Leslie that it made me more nervous, despite the tequila. I could feel myself getting jittery as I twisted the cold glass in my hands. I paused to silently read the bright red font on the shot glass.
“YOLO.”

A laugh bubbled up out of me and took over, my whole body succumbing in a violent shake. Attempting to pull in a few deep breaths, I sounded like a hyperventilating lunatic as my laugh became louder and more boisterous.

“Are you… okay?” Leslie nervously asked, placing her hand on my arm.

The dam broke. On top of laughing like a banshee, tears gushed out and poured down my face. When I wiped my eyes, my mascara smeared on my fingers, and the mental image of what I must have looked like played through my mind.
Oh God, this
is
it.
I’m
going to have a nervous breakdown.

“Shots, we need more shots.” Leslie’s voice was filled with panic. She didn’t deal well with crazy; that was my job in the friendship. As soon as she set the shot down, I slammed it back. After she filled her again, I snatched it up and downed it as well. I winced at the burn that followed the trail down my throat.

“Okay. So… Darren is back and stalking me. I told Bryant, and we figured out that Ian was a friend of Darren’s. Jordan showed up. Bryant punched him. Yep, I think that covers it.” I shrugged and let out a deep breath I had been holding.

“No. Rose. That doesn’t even begin to cover it. What the hell? I was gone two weeks, and when I texted saying I was staying longer, why didn’t you tell me to get my ass home. Rose. Rose! Oh my god…” Leslie’s voice trailed off as she processed it all, pouring another pair of shots.

Clinking our glasses together, we each shot the tequila back.

“First, Darren. How are you? Was that him the night of the bachelorette party?”

I nodded at first, pouring myself another shot, knowing I would regret it all come morning.

“So Darren. He is back. He threatened me. Apparently, we have unresolved business. I’m not sure what role Ian is playing, but I’m pretty sure he was there that night.”

“I knew he was a douche.” Leslie gritted her teeth.

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I don’t know. He was trying to get Darren to leave me alone, and at school he was weird, but helpful. I think Darren may have just had something over him, or something. Ian made a comment one day about not owing someone, so maybe that was Darren? Anyway…” I paused, taking the shot. “…I ended up telling Bryant. He could tell something was up, and we filed police reports and such, so we will see.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally told Bryant. He needed to know. Now Jordan. What did he want? He is reaching borderline-stalker material too, you know. Doesn’t he get it?”

Floored that Leslie would speak like that about Jordan, I turned away from her, still battling what I knew needed to be done and being hurt it had all come down to this.

“I thought it was Darren, but it was Jordan. So he knew that I was dealing with it and rushed here. He met me at school and just was typical Jordan, saving the day. Bryant came into my classroom and heard Jordan bashing him, so, you know... epic explosion. Ended up with them both verbally assaulting one another, and then Bryant punching him square in the nose.”

“Ha!” Leslie threw a fist in the air. “Thank God!”

“Leslie! I yelled, appalled. “No more tequila for you.” I snatched the bottle away and watched the clear liquid slosh around inside as I placed it down by my feet.
All four of them.

“Well, you know, he just wasn’t taking a hint. You and Bryant belong together. Jordan was excess baggage. Don’t get me wrong, he’s nice. And he’ll find a nice,
other
woman to love.”

I eyed the bottle of tequila, but leaning down to get it in the state I was in made me nervous. “So anyway, that covers it.”

My emotions were all over the place, and I hated how everyone saw Jordan in that moment. He was one of my best friends, but deep down I knew they were right. Unable to stand any more talking, I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

P
ULLING INTO THE DRIVEWAY AT NOON
the next day, I knew Bryant would have something to say, and honestly, I dreaded it. When the door opened, and a muscular silhouette filled the frame, I knew I was doomed.

After shutting the car door behind me with a thud, I made my way toward Bryant.

“Hey,” I croaked out at him, the cotton mouth choking me.

Stepping back, he let me inside and then shut the door behind me without a word.

“So, how was Grant?” I probed, knowing that was how Grant had gotten home late the night before. Stepping into the brightly lit kitchen, I groaned in pain and dimmed the lights before taking off my sunglasses. As I made my way to the medicine cabinet, I inwardly prayed there would be something strong in there to relieve the migraine brewing.

“You know, I’m starting to think Leslie is a bad influence on you,” he teased in a mocking tone.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a bottled water and swallowed both pills in one swig. I could see a million questions dancing behind those chocolate-brown eyes I loved so much. I hopped up on the counter and faced him so he would know he had my full attention.

“Did you talk?” he asked, picking at his fingernails, apparently to avoid eye contact.

“Did Leslie and I talk after she was away for probably two of the craziest weeks of my life? No, we played Monopoly.” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm that shot out of my mouth like venom.

He narrowed his eyes on me and pinned me down with a black glare, causing me to cringe.

“I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I’m just exhausted. Yes, we talked, and she gave me her two cents ‘til I was blue in the face. She let me know exactly how she felt, how I was an idiot. I think I heard
“I told you so”
at least a hundred times.”

Bryant laughed as he pulled me into his arms. “Aw, I feel bad for you. Grant said she looked like she might murder you when she left.”

“Yeah, apparently letting her enjoy her honeymoon is frowned upon, at least when my own personal apocalypse is occurring. She had been trying to get me to tell you for ages now.” I murmured into his chest and breathed in the smell of cotton and his cologne.

He tensed a moment beneath me and then chuckled again. “You won’t hear me say this often, but for once, you should have listened to Leslie.”

I nodded against him. “Yeah. Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say.” Leaning back, I inched up onto my tiptoes and kissed his warm pink lips. “I’m glad you know now,” I acquiesced.

“Me too. We can fight this together,” he agreed. He brought his lips crashing back onto mine and scooped me up in one swoop, pinning me against the wall.

My libido instantly kicked into overdrive as I felt his need for me seated firmly between my legs. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and poured every bit of passion I could back into my kiss as our lips molded to one another and our tongues did a dance.

Bryant pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it onto the banister. He allowed his hands to freely explore my lace bra. With a growl, he held me firmly to him and pushed us off the wall. He carried me up the stairs to our bedroom.

“
W
ELL,
THAT WAS
JUST
the hangover cure I needed,” I said smugly, trailing my fingers on the defined muscles of Bryant’s naked back.

“I’m going to hop in the shower. Want to join me?” Bryant’s husky voice asked as he rolled over to look at me.

Groaning in response, I shook my head no. “Nah, I probably should get started on the laundry for the week and figure out dinner. Grant said you invited them over for dinner?”

Bryant ducked from my swat leaped up, and quickly made his way to the bathroom. “Oh yeah.” He laughed. “Grant and I were hoping we could catch round two of the Leslie throw-down.”

I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at the door, just barely clipping his leg as he jumped into the bathroom and out of the way. I heard him laugh heartily until the shower drowned out the beautiful sound.

I threw on some yoga pants and a tank top and began picking up Bryant’s dirty laundry and putting it all into the elusive hamper to carry downstairs.

Just as I reached the landing, I could hear a cell phone ringing from the kitchen. Instantly, my senses were heightened. Each ring of a cell phone put me on edge, anticipating who would be on the other end.
Is
it him?
I froze. My body actually could not move, couldn’t take a step. I was essentially super glued to the floor.

The ringing ceased to echo through the house, and my body was released from the hold. I shook my head left and right
.
I
have
to cope.
I
have
to deal with
this
fear.

I walked through the kitchen to get to the laundry room, then paused and wondered who had just called. After setting the basket down, I walked over to my phone and pushed the button to illuminate the screen. My phone showed no missed calls and was still muted, so I walked over to Bryant’s.

Missed Call.
Sophia Matthews.

His mom? We’d never discussed his parents; it was as if they didn’t even exist. All I had ever heard was that the life they’d wanted for him hadn’t been what he was looking for. From what Grant and Jordan had told me, Bryant came from a pretty well-to-do family and could have become anything, as long as his parents approved. They had hoped he would be a lawyer like his dad, or even a doctor.

His phone began buzzing against the countertop as his mom called again. Putting aside the questions flying through my head, I picked up the phone and answered it, worried it was an emergency for her to call twice in a row like that.