Blended (Redemption #1) (5 page)

“Thank you, but I genuinely don’t want help or a handout from anyone. I’ve made my bed, and I’m going to curl up in it until I no longer want to be there. I’m cozy and warm with being exactly where I am.”

“You’ve been in that bed for nearly sixteen years.”

“Well, I’m still alive, am I not? I’m nothing like my mother, and I refuse to bleed myself out just because I was taken advantage of as a young girl.”

“I’ve never said that you were anything like your mother. I just figured that since you’re here . . .” She stops herself before she continues to torture me. “Never mind.”

I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “Thank you. Honestly, I’m happy with my life right now. Sex has become a cure while everything else seems to be mundane.”

“I know the feeling all too well. My offer still stands, though, and don’t you dare forget about it.”

I was Lo’s support as she went through therapy. She’d call me after the end of each session that she attended; as the weeks drew on, it was easy to see her progress. Every time she asked me for my help, I did not hesitate. Oddly enough, I actually took a liking to helping someone who needed my invaluable support.

We stand up after the waiter brings back the bill, and we make our way back to her apartment building as I try not to drift off in the front seat.

“I think that I’m going to crash for a while,” I tell her as we walk into her foyer, which I still haven’t gotten over. It’s modern, yet so simple with sharp lines and intricate details. This place is what any twenty-something-year-old dreams of living in.

“Sure thing. A Sunday nap sounds great right about now. Help yourself to anything around the place, okay?”

“Will do,” I say as I walk into her guest room and close the door behind me. The neutral tones of the room seem to soothe me of my racing thoughts as I plop down on the bed and pull out my phone, eyeing a text message from Lawson:
Hadley, where the fuck did you go? That threat was meant to scare you enough to come back to bed with me, not to run you off like a fucking lost puppy.

I contemplate my response, typing out a few variations of
fuck you
before I settle on one:
Mr. Stafford, I appreciate the generosity of your bed invite. However, nothing on that naked body of yours interests me in the slightest.

Lies.
Lawson’s cock is striking; he just needs to learn how to use it properly. And by that, I mean he needs to learn how to pleasure a woman with it, rather than just get himself off.

You’ll be begging me for it before you know it. You can’t experience anything without me. You need me, Hadley.

Cocky bastard.
I toss my phone to the other side of the bed before I roll over to face the large framed windows, taking in the azure-colored sky. The physical and mental exhaustion of the events of the last twenty-four hours has started to consume me one ounce at a time. Lo will just have to bear with me while I plaster on a fake smile. Fatigue takes over my body as I allow myself to sink deeper into the mattress, making me realize just how tired I am. Hell, my tired is tired.

I close my eyes, convincing myself that my life would go to shit if I weren’t already ruined.

When I wake up, I’m veiled in darkness with the only glow of lights coming from below. I stretch out my body along the side of the bed, realizing that I did not move once while I slept.

There’s a light rap on the door, and I gather that it’s probably what woke me up.

“Hadley? I’m going down the hall to a friend’s place for dinner. He wanted to know if you would like to join us.”

I sit up and smooth my hair down before wiping underneath my eyelids. “Sure, come on in,” I call out to her.

The door opens silently, spilling the hallway light into the room. “Oh hey, I didn’t think that you would still be asleep. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t,” I say quietly as I swing my legs off the side of the bed. The feeling that washes over me has somehow found a crack in my emotions and has filled me with . . . what? Disappointment? I squash that thought just as fast as it entered my system and stand up, stretching my arms above my head. “Okay, maybe I was, but I’m starving. What’s for dinner? Come?”

Lo drops her head to the side and gives me her best
what the fuck
look before rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest—something she’s always done since she was a teenager. She does it to protect her heart, and it seems to have worked, seeing that I’m the soulless, cold-hearted bitch while she’s living a life of bliss.

“If you’re going to come with, you need to swear to me that you won’t ruin this for me. Owen and I have been talking since the day I moved in, and I think it might actually develop into something.”

“Owen, huh? Fine. He’s off-limits, but if any of your other neighbors show me their dicks, I’m not holding my tongue.”

“You’re such a whore.”

“You love me.”

“True, but don’t push it.” She laughs and crosses the room to one of my suitcases. “Wear something comfy and cute. I think his brother might be there.”

“Oh? And what is said brother’s dick size?”

“You’re seriously asking me what the size of his penis is instead of his name? You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yup, I’m well aware.”

She hands me my nude scoop-collar sleeveless, and see-through, asymmetrical blouse. “This would go great with those booties you had on this morning.”

“Nice change of subject, Lo.” I pull my shirt off by the hem and turn around to slip my feet back into my booties when she hands me the blouse. “Thanks.”

“Wait, you’re not going to wear a bra underneath that?”

“Nope, that way I can get naked faster.” I smirk at her, and she shakes her head at me in admonishment.

“You’re uncontrollable, and I may be able to see your nipples.”

“That’s nothing new.”

She sighs and holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine, but I’m serious about Owen, Hads. He’s off-limits and mine.”

“You’ve got it,” I say as I follow her out of the room and to her front door. This Owen guy lives a few doors down from her . . . well, us. We’re standing outside of the door to apartment 1318 as it swings open and we’re greeted by a rather fuckable piece of . . .

“Hey Owen, how are you?”

. . . and there goes that dick. I can see her attraction to him; his blonde hair is pulled up into a man bun, and his beard is neatly trimmed. I can’t help but imagine what it would feel like scratching my inner thighs. He’s built, tall, and lean all at once. He’s a head turner.

“Hey, thanks for coming. You must be Hadley,” he says, and he holds out his hand to me. I offer him mine, and we shake briefly.

“Sure am. It’s nice to meet you, Owen.”

His eyes stray from mine and down my body, pausing at my nipples before he looks back at Lola. “Holden will be joining us. I think the asshole is trying to play nice for once.”

“That’s sweet of him. Hads, Holden is Owen’s roommate and older brother.”

A darker-haired stud walks around the corner, wiping his hands off as we walk into the living room. “You fuckers already talking about me?”

Owen shakes his head and gestures towards me. “Holden, this is Hadley. Hadley . . . Holden.”

“Hey, thanks for inviting me to dinner. You definitely didn’t need to, but thank you nonetheless.”

“Nah, it’s not a problem. We’ve got plenty to go around. Why don’t you join me in the kitchen and we’ll give these two some privacy,” he offers as he gestures to Lo and Owen. Owen has his arms round Lo, and she is looking up at him over her shoulder, begging for him to lay his lips on her . . . anywhere. Shit, I can feel the sexual tension rolling off of them.

“Uhm, yeah, that sounds good.”

I follow him into the kitchen, and he pulls out a beer from the refrigerator. “What do you drink?”

“Whiskey if you’ve got it, please.”

“Sure thing. We’ve got a few different bottles. They’re in the cabinet you’re standing in front of. Help yourself to any of them,” he states as he reaches for a rocks glass. I take the opportunity to drink him in. He’s tall, possibly six-foot-one or -two. He’s got on black pants, a plain white shirt and a beanie. The part of his hair that I’m able to see seems to be a dark blonde, almost brown in color.
Huh, he’s actually pretty fucking gorgeous
.

I turn around and pull open the cabinet, revealing his bottles of whiskey. Most of them are inexpensive, but they taste classy. Elijah Craig will have to do for tonight. I hand him the bottle of my choice and lean back against the countertop.

“So what do you do, Hads? I can call you that, right? I’ve heard Lo mention you a few times.”

“Hads is fine with me.” He holds up a large sphere of ice with a questioning look on his face. “I’ll take it straight up, thanks. And I just uprooted and moved here, so I guess that I don’t really have an answer to that question yet.”

He pours me two fingers before handing the glass off to me.

“Fair enough, but what are you interested in?”

I take a drink of the sublimely smooth whiskey, noting the creamy sweetness to the finish. “Whiskey, yoga, and sex.”

“My kind of girl.”

“Oh? Because of the whiskey?”

“Nah, I can’t stand that shit. Owen and I keep that on hand for when our father comes around. I’m a craft beer drinker at heart. I meant the sex.”

If there’s one thing that I cannot drink, it’s beer. He just became as hipster as his brother. The taste of caramel malts and the bitterness of hops is a huge turn-off for me. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to stomach the liquid bread: I just cannot do it. I’m a whiskey girl down to my toes.

“Ah, well, there’s nothing much better than sex.”

“Are you offering?” He takes a swig from his bottle and eyes me, waiting to see how I’ll react to his all-too-direct question.

“Nope, but I’ll take you up on
your
offer. I need to be fucked, so make it good.”

Lola and Owen walk into the kitchen before Holden gets a chance to respond. I turn to Lo and take in her flushed complexion: she’s radiant. Oh, she has it bad.

“I see that you’re getting acquainted with the other Parker brother, Hads. What are you guys talking about?”

“Sex,” Holden and I say in unison.

“Well then, that escalated quickly,” Owen comments as he pours Lola a rather large glass of pinot noir.

“I’d say so,” Lo says as she takes her glass from Owen by the stem and sips on the translucent red liquid.

I look up from the glass tumbler in my hands as I bend over the kitchen island, giving Holden a little ass show. “It went from whiskey to sex, so it wasn’t as straightforward as you might think it was,” I joke.

Holden walks up next to me and places his hand on my lower back before I look back at him and smile, not stopping his advances, but instead welcoming them.

Owen chuckles. “I think my manwhore of a brother has found his match.”

“I sure as fuck don’t see the problem,” Holden replies and squeezes my ass. I push back into his hand, wanting more of him already. I can tell that he’ll, at the very least, know how to use his hands on me.

Owen clears his throat, apparently surprised by my forwardness. “Are you done fucking up dinner, Hold?”

“Sure am, considering the heating instructions are barely legible. Get the ladies to their seats and then you can help me move everything to the table.”

The table? Oh, so we’re going to be fancy assholes and use china and crystal.
Joy.
As if I didn’t already feel completely out of place in this apartment building in the first place, I sure as shit do now. Am I used to seeing money thrown around? Sure thing. Am I used to being the one that the money gets spent on? Nope. Not for one second. My only money rests in my savings account, and it’s gotten quite comfortable there. I should probably invest some of it or, at least, purchase a vehicle, seeing as it’s easier to travel beyond the city with one.

I follow after Owen and Lo as they walk into the dining room and I take a seat across the table from Lo. As sure as fuck, we’re going to be dining on expensive china and sparkling crystal wine glasses. Owen grabs a bottle of 2009 Gevrey-Chambertin pinot noir and decants it into an intricate looking decanter—it looks like arteries as the wine fills the glass structure. Is it too much to ask for people with this kind of money to act, I don’t know, normal?

I sigh silently but hide my face with the mask that has been securely in place for the last sixteen years of my life.

Holden walks in carrying what appear to be two already-assembled plates of filet mignon, asparagus, mashed potatoes and sauce to accompany it. I find this rather interesting considering they are brothers. Shouldn’t this be served more, I don’t know, family style?

“Grubs ready,” Holden says as he places a dish in front of Lo and me before striding back into the kitchen to grab the last two plates.

“Holden? You made this?” I ask skeptically.

“Nah, we had Maggie come in and prepare dinner tonight.”

“Would you mind my asking who Maggie is?”

“She’s been our personal chef for the last two years. She makes some mean mashed potatoes. You’ll cry out for more, and that’s a promise,” he says as he settles down in the seat next to me.