Page 60 of The Unplanned Wedding

I draw in a sharp breath and reach for my bottle of whiskey, only to find it empty. “Get me another,” I snap at the bartender, then turn to glare at Brody, as if daring him to tell me I’m drinking too much.

He shrugs and gestures to the bartender for a drink of his own.

I snatch up the next bottle of whiskey, twist off the top and chug from it. The alcohol burns a trail down to my stomach, but it does little to soothe the anger in my chest.Anger at myself. Anger at hurting her. Anger at how I turned on my brother. Fuck.

“You need to think this through, man.” Brody takes a sip of his drink. “What you’re doing, agreeing to Arthur’s machinations, is not going to help any of us.”

“I am not letting him manipulate me.”

Brody barks out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? You do realize, this is going to result in a complete breakdown of your relationship with Tyler.”

I stare at the wall of bottles in front of me.Of course, I’m aware.“It’s his fault, for not being clear about his feelings for Priscilla.”

“And you’re complicating the issue by agreeing to marry her. And you’re doing it, despite the fact that you want someone else.”

I squeeze my fingers around the bottle.

“You know, I’m right. You need to do something to put this right, before it’s too late."

My phone vibrates in my pocket. My heart stutters.Maybe it’s her?I pull it out, hoping to see her name, but it’s Priscilla. Turns out, I’ve missed a few calls from her, and this is her...third message. I ignore it and slip it back into the pocket of my slacks.

“And shouldn’t you be on your way home with your latest one-night stand?” I don’t aim for my voice to come out bitter, but it does.

He shrugs. “Sure, I could, but I’m not ashamed of my feelings, man. I’m not going to stop myself from caring about you and that blockhead Tyler, too. I’m here to make sure you get home safely tonight. You two may have decided to become each other’s worst enemies; doesn’t mean I have to follow suit. You two are my brothers, and I do worry about the both of you. And I’m not afraid to admit it, either.”

Heat flushes my neck. The fact that he’s so upfront with his feelings shuts me up. In fact, it strengthens this sense of self-loathing that’s been growing since I spotted the hurt on her face.But I was right in doing it. I was right in making her hate me. This is the right thing to do. She’ll keep her distance from me now.Only... It’s not giving me the sense of gratification I hoped for.

“When I see her with another man, my mind goes into a tailspin.” I shake my head. ”It's as if my brain goes into meltdown, and I can’t think properly. None of it is her fault. It’s mine. I need to figure out a way to get back in control.”

I look up to find him staring at me.

“What?”

“I have to admit, it’s not so bad seeing you lose that iron grip you keep on your emotions. Although, I’d prefer it if you didn’t take it out on Tyler.”

“Yeah”—I take another sip of my whiskey— “it’s a bloody mess.”

He drains his glass and asks for another drink. “You can say that again.”

We continue to drink in silence until the bar empties out and it’s only the two of us left. When I can’t stomach drinking further, he escorts me to my car. I vaguely remember telling him he's a good brother and himlaughing it off. I must fall asleep in the car, for the next thing I know, I’m in the elevator. I reach the penthouse, then stagger into my apartment and to my bed... Only now, I can’t sleep.

Every time I shut my eyes, I see her face, her lips, the hurt look in her eyes, the way they turn golden when she’s aroused. Her sweet voice begging me to let her come. Her sassiness when she tries to get a rise out of me in the office. Her scent. How her soft skin feels under my fingers. How I want her naked and pliant and pleading to be spanked. Despite being drunk, I have a hard-on; that’s the hold she has on me.

I’m so aroused, my cock has turned into the kind of sensitive organ where every brush of the sheet against it threatens to have me come like a teenager. Finally, I give in and jerk myself off. Not once, not twice, but thrice. By the time the first light of dawn creeps into my bedroom, my balls are throbbing, and my dick is sore.

And when the phone lights up with her name, I snatch it up. "What?"

"This is your wakeup call, asshole."

23

June

There’s silence on the other side. Before he can reply, I hang up. Then lay back in bed and stare at the ceiling.Oh my god.That insult just slipped out of my mouth. I can pretend I didn’t mean it, but fact is, I do. Blame it on the fact it’s too early in the morning for my brain to have forged a connection with my mouth.

After returning from the nightclub, I spent half the night tossing and turning. I fell asleep in the early hours, only to spring awake when the alarm on my phone buzzed, followed by my electronic clock—bought specifically for this purpose and charged back to the company, thank you very much. And I felt so horrible, in that space between sleep and being awake, that when I reached for my phone to call my boss, I was so pissed off with him… And it’s not only because I loathe waking up early in the morning. Hearing his voice triggered me.

I can’t believe he had the temerity to walk onto that dance floor and try to stake his claim on me, when he’s the one who’s declared his intent to marry another woman. Andafterhe asked me to book them for lunch atthe very restaurant, he took me for a meal.That was our restaurant, damn it.It wasn’t a date, but it sure had felt like one. And he’d made the effort to find out about my diet preferences, too. And when I worked late in office, he made sure I was dropped home. I could be forgiven for thinking he cared for me. Only, he doesn’t.

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