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I take the next batch of meat off, then pour another round of drinks. I notice that Bre keeps her alcohol consumption to a minimum.
“I should get the salads,” she says. “You chill here, birthday girl.”
“I’ll help.” I offer.
“Oh, I’ll be fine.” Bre laughs. “You have done enough.”
Savannah invited a few other friends, and they’re all happily buzzed, chilling and enjoying the evening. It’s been a while since we’ve had people over. Justin and a friend are in the media room playing PlayStation.
I follow Bre anyway. Her shoulders tense. When we reach the kitchen, I spin her around, backing her up against the counter, crashing my lips to hers, demanding access. She tastes as sweet as she did years ago, maybe sweeter. She pulls at my shirt, kissing me back, moaning into my mouth. My head is buzzing, my mind a haze as I grab her ass. She pulls away from me, her fingers on her swollen lips. “Oh, God! What the fuck is wrong with us? We’re at your house. It’s your wife’s birthday. Fuck! Denton.” She pushes me away, then leans against the counter.
I cage her in, and she turns around, fire blazing in those green depths. “Get the fuck away from me. This, whatever is happening, is fucking messed up.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that, like you want me to kiss you again?”
“Denton, just go, now.”
I push off the counter, grab two bowls of salad, and leave the kitchen. She’s right. What is wrong with me? How could I do that? Anyone could have walked in. My son could have wandered in.
I step outside, pouring myself another drink. Nate’s at the grill now regaling a story about something or the other. We’ve been cordial tonight, but I wonder what he’d think of me kissing his wife.
Bre brings out more salad and some bread rolls. Savanna set out the cutlery at the table outside earlier. I sit across from Bre, but she doesn’t meet my gaze. We all eat and laugh, and she ignores me.
When the guests leave, Nate is passed out on the couch in the living room. They didn’t intend to stay over, but they don’t have a choice after we’ve all been drinking. I carry Anna up to the bed, and she kisses me full on the mouth, thanking me for the wonderful evening. I meet Bre in the hallway as she’s on her way to the guest room. She opens the door and disappears inside. I knock, and she opens it. “You want me to wake Nate up?”
“No.” She says, pushing the door. I stop it with my shoe, grinning because I remember doing that years ago.
“I’m not sorry about before,” I admit. Her eyes meet mine, and I know the second she looks at my lips that she isn’t either. She opens the door, and I step inside the room, shutting it behind me. I run my hands through her hair, lean down, and kiss her again. She melts into my kiss, letting my tongue part her lips and move against hers. I tilt her head to deepen the kiss, and she moans. Her pebbled nipples press against my chest as my assault on her mouth continues.
“I need to feel you,” my hands grip her ass as I tug her toward my hard-on. My hands travel up her shirt cupping her breasts. She’s out of breath when she pulls away—her hands press against my chest.
“Not tonight,” she whispers, her eyes pleading with me to listen.
I kiss her lips again and walk away. Two words, it was all I needed to know she feels the same way too. It’s never been over between us; I know that now.
I’ve been in and out of meetings all day, barely been able to concentrate on anything. I need to see Bre, talk to her alone, know that she meant what she said. The anxiety of wanting to call her or text her but not knowing if it’s okay to do that is driving me insane.
I send her a meme. And when I receive a rolling eye emoji in response, I take that as an opening.
Me: When?I haven’t seen her for a few days, but she is all I can think about. I close my eyes, and I see her face. I feel her lips. I’ve jerked off to thoughts of her.
Bre: Denton, you know this is only going to end badly for us both.
Me: When?I don’t care what happens at this point. I just need to see her.
Bre: I’m at a conference at the Hilton. Room 300.
Me: On my way.I call my personal assistant, Eva, and tell her I have a meeting with a client.
I ride the elevator down, and all I feel is adrenalin—my phone buzzes.
Bre: Denton, what are we doing?
Me: Right now? Nothing. But that isn’t what I’ll be doing to you in a few minutes.
Bre: I’m serious.
Me: I’m hard.
