Page 72 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two
“Shit.” Oliver rubs his face. “I didn’t even think of that. She probably feels awful.”
“It’s not your fault,” Rhett says. “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Before they both start to spiral, I cut in. “What matters is that we’re past it. From this point on, we need to make sure Wren feels secure in this relationship. Inus.I don’t want her doubting anything, and I definitely don’t want her to be constantly afraid that we’re holding a grudge against her or something like that.”
They both agree, which puts them somewhat at ease. Out of habit, I let my gaze wander around the restaurant, making sure we aren’t being watched. Just as I’m about to turn my attention back to Oliver and Rhett, I spot Wren making her way across the room. The problem is, she’s not heading for our table.
Wren goes up to the only person sitting at the bar, a young man facing away from us. Upon seeing her, he tenses. I can’t hear their conversation, but the concern on Wren’s face is clear as day. She reaches out and touches the guy, and he winces before pulling away.
The second Wren makes eye contact with me, I’m out of the booth and on my way over to her. It’s then that I hear the man protesting.
“No, stop, you can’t—”
“Wren? Love, what’s going on?”
The man turns around on his barstool, and the second we lock eyes, I freeze. All of the air is sucked out of my lungs, and I have to blink twice to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“Ell,” Wren says, grabbing my arm and tugging me closer. “This is Andrew.”
“Stop,” Andrew hisses at Wren. “I can’t be seen here. Fuck, this was such a bad idea.” He starts to stand, but my body miraculously starts working again, and I shove him back down onto the stool.
No way. There’s no fucking way.
“Hey! Get your hands off me, man.”
I release him, but I don’t move away. No, I just stare, taking in the details of his face and trying to put the pieces together. He’s a carbon copy of teenage Rhett. There’s only one answer for how that’s possible. I just don’t want to admit it.
“What’s your last name?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
Andrew narrows his eyes. “What’s it to you?”
I don’t have time for his bullshit, so I say, “Is Richard Brooks your father?”
His jaw drops, and dread pools in my stomach.No. No, no, no.
“How did you know that?” Andrew demands. He slips from his stool and gets up in my face. “Who the fuck are you?”
“That bastard,” I breathe out.
“Elliot!” Wren exclaims. “Don’t be rude.”
That snaps me out of my shock. Grabbing Wren’s hand, I say, “I think you should come with us, Andrew. I have something to show you.”
He hesitates, but Wren gives him a pleading look, so he follows.
Seeing Wren talking to teenage Rhett is a mindfuck I wasn’t prepared for. Apparently Oliver and Rhett feel the same way, because when they see us approaching, they have similar reactions to my own. Oliver drops his fork, and his jaw goes slack. As for Rhett, he turns into a fucking statue.
“Will you please explain what’s going on?” Wren hisses, following closely behind me.
“Not here,” I grit out.
Once we’re at the table, Oliver stands. “I’ll get the bill. Meet you guys upstairs?”
“Let’s go. Rhett?”
He still hasn’t moved, his eyes glued to Andrew. He’s probably thinking the same thing I am.
“I’ll bring him up with me,” Oliver says. “You guys go ahead.”
