Bed Head: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Sugar & Spice Book 1) Page 3

  I ease to the edge of my bed, watching the ripples and swirls inside my cup. The guilt of being dependent seems overwhelming. “I’m at Brody’s.”

  “Really? It’s mid-week. Playing hooky and getting some so-so nookie with Luca?” She pauses. “No, don’t tell me; I don’t want that vision in my head.”

  Normally I’d laugh at her dumb jokes. Not today.

  Apparently, Lyla senses my mood. “Kate, did something happen? No one died, right?” Her tone has gone from carefree to dead serious.

  “No, it’s not like that. Everyone’s alive.” But my vocal cords quiver and give me away. The next thirty minutes contain me spilling tears and my guts to her. “So I came here and now I need some clothes and personal stuff.”

  “Hmm, I knew Luca was an asshole. Every time we were together I just got an icky feeling.”

  “Icky? Is that technically the legal term for it?” I try to be light with Lyla. She goes from level conversations to detailed interrogations in ten seconds flat. It’s the soon-to-be lawyer in her.

  “For now it is. I’ll go over to the apartment after class, pack some things, and head over to Brody’s. Is Adam there?”

  I’m taken aback for a split second. Since when does Lyla ask about Adam and how does she know he moved in last week? “Umm, he’s around. I mean I haven’t exactly seen him yet, but Brody says he’s here.”

  “Interesting.”

  Why would she use a word like “interesting”? The man lives here.

  “I’ll be there late this afternoon.” Lyla interrupts my thoughts.

  “I owe you.”

  “Buy me pizza and donuts. We’ll have a night of it.”

  I smile. It’s perfect. My two best friends staying with me to help get me out of this situation. I love them dearly. “Noted. See you soon.”

  I need to let Brody know she’s coming. It’s his house and I probably should’ve checked with him. I glance down at my coffee—but first I also want to finish the last of the delicious cup.

  A few minutes later wearing a pair of socks I found in a drawer, my hand is poised to knock at the office door and I can hear Brody talking inside. “I like the sounds of that, Max. We should plan to get together next week. Dinner, okay, sure. We’ll be in touch.” His voice sounds so professional.

  My fingertips tap out a soft beat on the wooden surface. “Brody? It’s Kate.”

  Of course it’s me. Like he wouldn’t know… I sound nothing like Adam.

  “Come in.”

  The door opens and I have to double fist my fresh, and third, mug of coffee because of what I see. Here I was picturing Brody on a headset, pacing, maybe tapping away at his laptop, but instead he’s stretched out on the expensive leather sofa, bare feet up on the arm, and his shirt wide open, exposing the lines of his abdomen and chest. When did all that goodness take place? Does he have a gym in the garage? And why the hell is his shirt unbuttoned anyway?

  “Umm, am I interrupting?” My eyes rove over his muscles a little too long for the friend zone.

  He sits up and partially buttons his shirt. “No, no, not at all. Come in, sit down. What can I help you with?”

  I’ve got to turn away. My face feels hotter than the steam coming up out of my cup. I feign studying his bookshelves and various framed photographs—anywhere but at his body on display like a sexy all you can eat buffet. “Nothing. I umm…”

  Seriously, Kate. Settle down. It’s just been a while since you’ve had sex. This is Brody.

  But now he’s standing and his hands rest on my shoulders and a shiver zips up my spine. Holy mother of all, when did his hands get so big and strong? I’m delusional, emotionally delusional, that’s it.

  I bring my attention away from his half-nakedness to his face, but in that matter of seconds somehow his jawline became a lot more sculpted than I remember it. Geez.

  “You okay? Your shoulders are tense.”

  My giggle seems phony. “Yeah, well, I think break ups do that to some people.”

  My breath picks up as he, likely completely innocently, rubs my upper arms. But my wet sex doesn’t care about his intentions, all they remember is his Magic Mike six pack. If he continues I’m going to need an ice bath.

  Remember the rules.

  I clear my throat. “Lyla is going to stop by with some of my things later, after her class. Is that okay?” I move out of his grasp and chug some coffee. “She’ll probably stick around to visit.”

  He threads his hand through his unkempt hair. Why doesn’t he button up his shirt more? I can still see his ripped pecs. Of course I haven’t managed much beyond adding a pair of socks to my morning outfit yet. My eyes move to the door to check if I left it wide open.

  “That’s a good idea but you don’t have to ask my permission. Plus, you and Lyla should have some girl time. It might help you figure things out.”

  “I thought we’d get a pizza and all three of us can hang — like old times.” I want him to know he’s included. How could he not be?

  He grins and suddenly I feel very self-conscious standing there in my scrunched up cabin socks and his 1990’s vintage grunge band t-shirt.

  “Sure,” he says. “I’d like that.”

  “I should get dressed. I’ll let you get back to work.” I place my free hand on the doorknob to escape and go change my now drenched underwear. Where’s my vibrator when I need it so badly?

  “Katie?”

  I can’t look back at him. “Hmm?” There’s a photograph of the Taylor family hanging by the door—Brody, Adam, and their parents, before they died. Seeing that cools the heat in my core.

  “It’s going to all work out, you know? I promise you.”

  My words are locked in the lump in my throat since I’ve said phrases along those lines to him before. I visualize the scene of the past like images in the photos.

  The door clicks shut before he can see the first tear drop fall. Confusing emotions hit me from every direction. I’ve been evicted from a seven-year relationship, and I’m ready to screw my half-naked best friend. Is this what rebounding is like? It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Maybe I’m having a breakdown.

  You’re not this girl, Kate Evans.

  Back in my room I run a bath with a little lavender shower gel poured in—not an ice one since I need to relax. I step into the warm water and sigh as I lower myself. “Pull it together.”

  Visions of the past swim behind my eyelids every time I close my eyes. There’s Brody, young and lanky. Always in need of a few pounds, but handsome nonetheless. He’s always had amazing green eyes and a sexy smile.

  How old were we? Seventeen?

  After I step into the tub and sink down, the tepid water of the bath reminds me of the water at the lake. I can feel it. With my eyes closed again I can place myself there.

  We’re swimming.

  The smell of the bubble bath cancels out the memory of the air that day. I squeeze my eyes tighter and hold my breath, sinking below the foam and the surface of the water.

  We’re holding hands.

  “It’s getting late.”

  “Let’s not go home.”

  “Let’s stay here forever.”

  “It’s going to get better. I promise.”

  We could have had sex that day. Maybe we should’ve since we both wanted it. But instead we made the stupid rules.

  My eyes sting and my lungs burn with the need for air as my wet hair obstructs my vision in long dark streaks. When I emerge from beneath the sudsy water someone knocks on the bedroom door. “Brody?”

  There’s no answer.

  “Is someone there?” My pounding heart nearly explodes out of my chest and I grab my waiting towel and drape it around my dripping skin. Pools of bath water gather on the floor, and the audible snap of the bedroom door sounds louder than a gun firing. “Hello?”

  I unlock the bathroom door and peek out. One of the double doors to the bedroom is cracked open. Someone was in here. “Brody, is that you?”

  My hair drips down my bare shoulders and my fingers white-knuckle the plush material wrapped around me. I peek around the corner of the doorjamb down the left side of the hall past Brody’s room to the stairs. No one is there. I turn to the right and nearly scream. “What the—”

  Adam stands, fully amused with himself, a massive smile stretching his lips. He’s an inch or two taller than his brother, same blond hair, but he wears it a tad longer than my best friend’s shorter cut.

  “Nice look, Evans. You planning to parade around here like that all day? Mind you, I’m not objecting.”

  A growl rises from my throat. “You asshole. You scared the hell out of me. Quit lurking like a common stalker.”

  His hand goes over his heart. “Oh come on, Evans. Is that any way to talk to your host?”

  My eyes narrow into menacing slits. “You’re not my host. Your brother is.”

  He smirks in his usual cocky manner and shrugs. “Mi casa too.” Adam turns and heads down the hallway. “If you need anything…” He stops and gives me a flirtatious wink.

  I roll my eyes. Adam is harmless but he really can be a piece of shit sometimes. He only does this to tease Brody and me about our friendship. He’s just jealous.

  He bows his head slightly. “And I didn’t know it was you in the bathroom. I didn’t even know you were here. I should’ve though with the coffee brewing in the kitchen.”

  Before I get out a word he turns and struts off.

  Four

  Kate

  “Hello? Anyone home? I could use some help here.” Lyla struggles through the foyer with various bags and her wild, dark curls have somehow half escaped the messy bun piled on the top of her head.

  I rush to her and relieve her of some of the weight. “You’re a lifesaver. How
did it go? Was Luca there? What did he say? Did you get my laptop? My portfolio?”

  My vibrator?—I don’t actually say that part out loud.

  “What did he say?”

  “Geesh, Kate, who’s the lawyer here, me or you?” My gorgeous, bronze skin friend drops the remaining bags by the side of the couch.

  “Technically, neither of us, yet,” I joke and then kiss her cheek.

  She looks around the room, catching her breath. “Where is everyone?”

  I cock my head at her. “Everyone?”

  “Yeah, Brody and Adam?”

  “Brody’s finishing up some contracts in his office and who the hell knows where Adam is. Why would we care?” I narrow my eyes at her.

  Lyla’s brown eyes lose any expression.

  Ah, game face. Something’s up.

  “Contracts? Does Brody want any advice?” She ducks her head to look down the hallway and up the stairs.

  “I think he has already done that through his business lawyers.”

  She shrugs. “His choice. I don’t know why he doesn’t ask me, free advice and all.”

  “Thanks for getting the stuff. Now tell me what happened. Did Luca tell you anything?” I pull my friend down onto the couch so she can spill every detail.

  “Ya know, maybe you should look at this situation as a blessing or a sign or something. Who cares what Luca’s reason is? The facts are, he’s fucking another woman, he asked you to leave, he’s selfish, immature, and well…let’s face it…he lacks a certain ‘giving’ flair from everything you have ever told me. What are you truly missing out on?”

  “Lyla.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment. She doesn’t need to be so forthcoming.

  “Tell me I’m wrong.” She purses her lips.

  I can’t, because she’s not. If I’m being honest with myself, Luca needs some work, but maybe we both do. My lips flutter with an exasperated breath of air and I flop back against the cushions. “So he didn’t say anything about the woman?”

  “He said that he’d be talking to you.”

  I groan. “What does that mean? He can’t keep my belongings. Can he? I decorated most of that place with tips from the bar.”

  “Well no, and technically you still live there and can come and go as you’d like. Unless he gets a restraining order—”

  “Wait, what? Why would he get—”

  Lyla squeezes my hand. “Kate, he’s not. Relax. I was simply saying that he has no reason to keep you from the apartment and getting your things, if that’s what you want to do. Is it?”

  I hold a pillow to my face and scream into its fluffy middle.

  Brody dashes out from his office, panic etched in the lines of his face. “What’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes are wide and wild.

  Lyla swivels and leans over the back of the couch, fluttering her lashes and her fingers, playfully. “Hey, Brodes. How’s life treatin’ you?”

  He swivels his attention from me to Lyla, a bit crazed. Both she and I laugh.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I was just having a moment.”

  He combs his hair with his fingers and rolls his eyes, before turning back to the office in a huff.

  “I’m sorry,” I call after him. “Pizza will be here in twenty.”

  His hand waves us both off and the office door clicks shut behind him.

  “Oops.” I mouth, still giggling with Lyla like we’re school girls again.

  “Someone say pizza?” Adam’s sudden appearance causes me to jump. “Hey there, Cavallara.” He tips his chin up toward Lyla.

  “Taylor.” She grins and repeats the gesture.

  I watch this odd exchange with great interest. Not so much out of the normal, but something about it feels weird. “I ordered pizza. We were going to hang. The three of us, tonight.” I hope he takes the hint.

  “Sounds like a night for teenagers. You gonna have chips and grape soda too? Maybe sneak a couple of airplane bottles of vodka and watch vampires fall in love?” His sarcasm is thick.

  Adam was a senior when we were all freshman in high school. We never hung out together as a group back then.

  “Why don’t you join us and find out? I know how much you adore a good love story,” Lyla pipes in.

  I shoot daggers at her with my eyes.

  “What?” She shrugs. “Just being neighborly.”

  Adam waves us off. “Nah, I don’t want to interrupt your night of high school style debauchery. Call me when dinner gets here. Better be sausage and pepperoni.”

  Relief at his declining fills me.

  “What in the hell was that about, Lyla?” I say under my breath after he leaves.

  She shrugs. “Nothing. I thought it would be nice. We did all grow up together. It’s not like Adam is the older brother now. We’re all adults, equals.”

  I shake my head. “Whatever. Tonight I just want to forget everything. Just be with the people I trust the most.”

  The doorbell rings.

  “Pizza,” I say and race for the door.

  “Better be donuts and beer too,” calls Lyla after me as I pay the delivery guy.

  Not so long after, with plates, napkins, and two six packs of beer sitting on the tiles around the pool—but sadly for Lyla, no donuts, Brody and Lyla perch on the edge with their feet in the water. My hands are full with slices for everyone from the box. “Here ya go.”

  “Anyone care if I join?” Adam is back—bare chested and in board shorts.

  Lyla chokes on her beer.

  “Plenty of pizza, bro,” offers Brody.

  I’m suddenly no longer hungry and instead tip back my bottle, preferring the sense-dulling alcohol to conversing with Adam. Was he watching us from upstairs, feeling left out? I shouldn’t have such animosity for Brody’s brother. I think it’s an offshoot from Luca or jealousy. He and Adam always seemed to get along well so I should try harder to be civil.

  “Help yourself, Adam. Beers are still cold,” I add in. It’s a half-assed effort. “But we’re out of grape soda.”

  Lyla chuckles and Brody raises a brow at me since he has no idea what I’m talking about.

  He grabs a slice and pops the top off a long necked, amber bottle. “No one’s swimming?”

  “I don’t have a suit,” I say.

  Adam raises his brows. “What’s your excuse, Cavallara?”

  “I don’t carry an extra, usually.” She smirks.

  Adam scoffs. “Never stopped you before.”

  “Seriously?” she asks. “Are you going to ever let that go? I was in elementary school. I had on panties and a training bra.”

  Adam smiles and takes a bite of his slice. “What’s changed?”

  Lyla kicks her feet in the depth of the pool, swinging her leg out to the side and splashes him.

  I study the two of them. So this is happening? My best friend is flirting with my other best friend’s older brother? When had this developed? Is this new? Lyla and I are going to have to have a serious talk.

  “So you and Luca are done, huh?” Adam asks.

  Brody glares at his brother. “Adam.” He gives me an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth to him. He has a serious problem understanding ‘don’t say anything’.”

  “What? It’s the elephant in the pool,” counters Adam.

  “It’s okay, Brody.” I reassure him with a smile and place my hand over his. “I don’t know what’s happening with Luca and me, really.”

  Adam gives me a sympathetic smirk. “I know my little brother already said you can stay here. I just want you to know I’m with him on that.”

  “Thanks.”

  Adam jumps up and grabs four more beers. “Best way to soothe your troubles is to drown them and recoup in the morning. Tonight we drink!”

  I wasn’t going to argue that fact. It sounded like the perfect idea.

  After Lyla and I borrow t-shirts from the guys and Brody changes into swim trunks, we tried to outdo each other with cannonballs and chicken fights in the pool. We play a quick game of Marco Polo and dance to seriously awful music from our junior high—and Adam’s high school days. By the end of our third six pack we’re all strewn out on the pool furniture playing drunken Never Have I Ever.

  “Your turn, Ly.”

  She gives it some thought. “Never have I ever cheated on an exam.”

  No one lifts their drink, but Adam.

  “Figures.” I laugh.