Page 72 of Reckless

“Unless he doesn’t come back,” I mutter to my reflection.

My phone buzzes and makes me jump. I laugh at myself for being startled.

Jude

Thanks for that. I hope I’m not much longer, but the crap I walked into isn’t that simple. I might be later than planned

Krista

I understand

Jude

I’m going to be there, Krista. I promise

I almost reply saying he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep. Instead, I send a simple thumbs up emoji, lock my phone, then go out in search of food and the company of people I consider family.

“Ready?” Drew peeks her head into my room. “Wow, you look like sex on legs, babe.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, looking down at myself.

Okay, maybe I’ve made more of an effort than I normally would. I shaved every inch of my body and slipped into a slinky, sequined black dress that floats around my thighs and ties in a halter neck, sloping down the side of my breasts. There is a thin strap that goes across the middle of my back, keeping the dress from being obscene, but it is probably one of the sexiest outfits I own.

I brought it with me for tonight. It’s not like I’m specifically dressing up for Jude. If he ever shows up. We’ve waited as late as we can, but he still hasn’t made it to the house. I text about fifteen minutes ago to let him know where Wayne’s club is, but he hasn’t replied yet.

I’m starting to feel as though this is all over. And a little foolish over hoping it isn’t.

Xander whistles when he sees me, and I flip him off. No matter how much he flirts, he’ll always be Wayne’s baby brother to me, and he knows it. We pile into the limo Wayne has gotten for us and Drew pours us all a champagne.

A few more of their trusted friends will join us in the private bar at the club. Drew moves close and links my arm, resting her head on my shoulder as Wayne and Xander discuss something to do with their business.

“You okay?” she nudges me.

“Of course, I’ve been looking forward to tonight for ages.”

“You know that isn’t what I mean.” She sits up and stares at me, her eyes boring into me, trying to read me. She’s always been able to. “You like him.”

“I barely know him.”

“You know how long it took for me to fall in love with Wayne?”

“Five minutes,” I deadpan.

“More like three hours, but yeah. When you know…”

“I’m not in love with Jude Smallwood.”

“You’re so vehement. But I know you. You feel something. You can’t lie to me, babe.”

“It’s this crazy, wild attraction, nothing else.”

I’ve already spilled the beans about us sleeping together, while we were making cocktails earlier. “And of course I feel something. I can’t sleep with someone I have no feelings for.”

“That always was a weird trait you had.”

“That isn’t a weird trait. It’s called standards.”

“I slept with Wayne the night I met him.”

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