Page 41 of Before We Were Us

“She’s not always sweet, the woman has a vicious side.”

He chuckles. “I don’t believe that for a second.” He laughs because he’s seen that side before. It doesn’t happen often but watch out when it does. Especially if it's you she’s upset with.

“Tell that to my shredded soul. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to piece it back together after the thrashing.”

“Alcohol makes you a drama queen.” Connor pops open another beer for the both of us. I know I should stop now but drinking until I pass out sounds much better at this point.

“Fuck.” I run my hand through my hair. “I should have brought you as a diversion.”

“A diversion?”

“Yeah, exactly, you’re a fucking mess, the girls in my family know that. I could have veered them off on you and skipped out on the scowls I got the entire two hour dinner.” I blow out an exaggerated breath. “I even skipped out on dessert.”

“You skipped your mother’s cheesecake?”

“Yeah,” the woman makes a killer cheesecake, “that should tell you how bad it got.”

twenty-five

. . .

Brynnlee

“That color looks amazing on you.” Marco claps his hands together. “Your skin tone,” he sighs. “I’m envious.” I arch a brow as a stare of my perfect, bronzed skin, every hair in place, drop dead gorgeous friend.

“You glow,” I tell him and he blushes as he waves his hand at me as to say please stop.

“I do like this color though.” Coral pink, it did pop against my olive skin tone. The dress was loose fitting, hanging off one shoulder. The back is completely open, stopping just above my ass. That is the space where it fits a little more snug, contouring to my lower half.

“Match it with the strappy Valentinos that you rarely wear, but really should. Those shoes are so hot, and if I didn’t have fat feet I’d steal them and wear them myself. I’ve considered taking them and setting them up on my mantel so I can admire them so much more than I should.”

I only laugh, because I know he’s not joking.

“Bangles, those hoop earrings you wore last week, and leave your hair down.” He’s got it all planned out and I stare at myself in the mirror, imagining everything he’s mentioned. The man has some amazing taste. So much so that I’m always texting pictures to him when I’ve gotten ready to get his opinion on how I look.

“Did you make the reservations?”

He laughs. “Please girl, do you know who you are talking to? Did I make reservations?”

He is the most organized person I know. Taking a trip with him involves an itinerary right down the scheduled bathroom breaks. Taylor and I laugh at him every time, he can be a little bossy and over the top.

“Maple and Ash for seven thirty, dinner and drinks. I wasn’t sure what kind of clubbing you were in the mood for, crowded and wild or low-key, but either way we go we have options. We’ll see how the night goes.”

I spin around to face him. “Well, I know what I’m wearing.” I offer him a wink. “You’ve already planned my entire look for me.”

Taylor, Marco, and I walk into the restaurant and pause as he offers the name for our reservation. The host smiles at him with a come-hither kind of look. Peeking up at him through her long lashes she bites her lower lip. It happens all the time, women see Marco and they fall a little in love at first sight. He smiles, because he is a happy kind of guy. He bats his lashes, not because he’s wanting their attention, but because he has lashes that most women would die for. He doesn’t try for their attention but he doesn’t have to. He is easy to fall in love with, and never has the heart to tell them differently. But Taylor never seems to miss the chance.

“You are adorable,” she tells the hostess. “Gorgeous actually but even that can’t change this fella. You don’t offer the right equipment, sweet pea. He’s with the two of us almost daily and neither of us have been able to pull him over to the other side. The only vagina he’s ever been near is the one that birthed him, babe.”

I laugh under my breath and I cover my mouth with my hand. I’ve already had a few drinks and I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in days.

“The good ones always seem to be into other men, or married.” And that comment pushes me over the edge as I can no longer hold back.

“That’s right,” I say through my laughter, holding up my hand to offer her a high five. “Watch out for the married ones babe, they will hook you and then drop the bomb.”

Taylor nudges me with her hip and the hostess starts to lead us toward our table. The restaurant is busy, with almost every table full.

We end up in the back corner in a round booth.

---