Page 20 of Perfect Storm

Archer is not hovering like most of these other morons do with their girlfriends, but I’m not stupid. The asshole knows how lucky he is and I’m so fucking jealous it sickens me.

He catches my eye for a moment, but I lower my eyes back to the book I’m reading, acting disinterested. I don’t know if he is aware I hooked up with Brooke, more than once. If he does, he’s never let on and I certainly haven’t discussed it with anyone.

I’m pretty sure Jenna knows I took Brooke home after the night of their engagement. I’m certain Brooke never told her we’d had a brief but intense few months, meeting up in various places to fuck.

I’m not the guy into hearts and flowers. Romance isn’t my thing, but part of me still wishes I’d taken steps with Brooke. Beyond the hotel rooms, bathrooms at bars, or her office late at night.

My more practical side screamed it would never work between us. We’re too different.

We are compatible in bed, explosive even, I had some of the best sex of my life with her. Rationally, the jealousy I feel is about losing that, not about losing the potential of a relationship with Brooke.

My lip twitches at the thought of Archer finding out I’d eaten her out on her office desk so thoroughly she’d cried at the ecstasy of it.

“Did you just smile?” Dylan drops into the seat opposite me.

“No.”

“Right, it was probably gas.”

I give him a look I’m sure shows my disgust. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to go bother?”

“She’s sleeping,” he says, peering at the cover of my book, before picking up a bag of chips and tearing them open. He offers me one, but I decline. I didn’t notice him appearing from the back bedroom, but the noise must have woken him.

Dylan, Alessa, and Nash are a lot closer to BreakNeck than Jack or me. They hang out with them a lot, which is fine. They are a good group of people, solid guys and tolerable women.

Didn’t mean I had to change the habit of a lifetime and become sociable. Even with my band members.

I intend to throttle Alessa when we get wherever the hell we’re going.

We spoke this morning. All I’ve heard since we got on the plane is how neither Jordan nor she answered their calls.

They’ll lose their shit if they know I spoke to her. She knows me too well, knows if I’m not reassured this isn’t a waste of my time, then I won’t get on the plane.

She gave nothing away, just that she wants me there and will break six of my fingers if I don’t show up. Two on one hand and four on the other, an extremely specific and typical Alessa threat.

I hear the speculation about the reason behind this being a wedding. I’d even heard their arguments for and against the idea. All valid. But the beauty of Alessa is her total unpredictability. And the fact you never know if she is serious or not.

I’d delighted many a time in seeing her, sometimes unintentionally, tear shreds off people. She’s misunderstood at times but at the heart of her, Alessa is a good woman, a great friend and her relationship with Jordan goes beyond the bullshit they’ve both been spouting about getting married.

I begged her to tell me we aren’t heading for Vegas, which she confirmed isn’t the case. So at least I know that. But not much more.

Adrestia slips past us to go to the bathroom and Nash comes over and joins us, making me sigh. I put my book down and look at the brothers opposite me.

The BreakNeck crew are still celebrating. There is an unmistakable light on Adam’s face. It beams out of him when he looks at Jenna.

Sickening.

“Ci, can you talk some sense into him,” Dylan says, hooking a thumb in Nash’s direction. “He won’t do anything about this bullshit with Riley. You know about what she’s doing, right?”

I nod. “I read about it,” I look at Nash. “And I’m not in the least bit surprised by anything that bitch does.”

He rolls his eyes, but checks Adrestia is not on her way back. I don’t blame him. It may hurt her to know this is affecting him more than he’s letting on.

I observe. I’ve always been that way since childhood, barely talking to anyone where I grew up in Hermosillo, Mexico.

My family paid little attention to me as a child. I don’t have much contact with anyone back home after making the border crossing as a young teen. So it’s not difficult for me to see what this is doing to Nash.

Despite my harsh and standoffish demeanor, and what people think about me, I do consider my band mates to be my friends. I could have cheerfully strangled Nash for the way he let Riley walk all over him. All because he believed he loved her.

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