Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (2 page)

Sabrina

Age 28

“What time is it?” Adam asks.

“Late.” With a reluctant sigh, I pull my nightgown over my head and drop my panties to the floor. He has not earned the privilege of seeing my naked body again, but time is of the essence. “I’m not getting my hair wet, it will…” I trail off as I open the glass door and step inside.

Adam is coated from head to toe in a thick layer of suds, scrubbing his face like he’s scouring a pan. I immediately pull his hands away, telling him, “That’s enough.”

“Shit,” he exhales. “I didn’t even realize… Fuck, my skin stings. It’ll be too red.”

“You’ll just look as drunk as I actually am,” I reply, reaching around him to make the water cooler.

Adam steps into the stream and I watch the soap wash away, revealing his incredible form inch by inch. His eyes are a strange combination of frantic and calculating as he silently slumps against the tiled wall. This is not the time to fuss about drippy hair. I move into the water to get closer to him.

He grabs onto me the moment I’m within arm’s length, pulling by body against his with a firm grip on my waist. I toss my head back to control the way my perfectly behaved curls are destroyed by the current, closing my eyes as I hang onto his biceps for balance. Adam’s lips graze my neck as he buries his face into my shoulder, whispering, “I miss you.”

“Adam...”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I was an asshole.”

He really was, but this is a fight I’m tired of winning. “We both were.” That’s not how I actually feel, but it seems like the right thing to say.

Adam hugs me tighter, letting out a relieved breath. “I
really
miss you, Bree,” he croaks, sounding unusually youthful. It jogs my memory, taking me back in time before everything got messed up between us. He’s changed so much since then. I miss this voice and all the sweet, honest things he used to confess to me in it.

My fingers find their way to the back of his neck, tracing across his hairline as he shudders. I’ve missed him too but I can’t push my pride down enough to say it aloud. I’ve spent too many years of my short life missing him, only to get him back and lose him all over again. Now isn’t the time to tell him that I can’t take any more of it.

So I tell him that I love him instead. It’s true. It always has been and it always will be, no matter how many times we break up, how awful the fight was, how long we’ve been apart and how many women he’s screwed in the interim. It will always be true. Maybe one day I’ll be able to stop myself from uttering those three words he doesn’t deserve to hear, but it will still be true.

Adam murmurs it back to me like he always does, the tension that hardens his muscles melting away as his open mouth drags across my collarbone. I think this is possibly the first time we’ve been this close and this naked when there wasn’t a rigid erection pressing into my flesh. That doesn’t last very long once I turn my face to his and our lips find each other.

He groans, his hand wandering lower as his tongue slides into my mouth. I break free of the kiss before it sweeps me away, reminding him, “We have to leave.”

“No, we don’t,” he says, squeezing my ass.

“Yes, we do,” I gasp, exposing more of my throat to his suckling mouth. “I can’t do this alibi thing all on my own. I want a solid story to tell and more eyes to back it up.”

His lips stop below my ear. “Right. It’s so easy to forget what I am whenever I have you in my arms.”
What
he is. Not
who
he is. I’m not having this discussion right now, so I lift my face and give him a reassuring smile. “Thanks for getting your hair wet,” he says, tucking a tendril behind my ear as he cuts the water off.

I slip getting out of the shower and the room starts spinning too much to regain my balance. Adam catches me immediately, gently steadying me as I reach for a towel to wrap around myself.

“We honestly don’t need to go anywhere,” he says. “There won’t be any questions, I would never put you in that position.”

“You’ve also never been one to take chances, Adam.”

“I know, but—”

“I just need more coffee,” I interrupt him, taking a deep breath and shaking my head before I stare into the mirror. At least my skin is clear because all I have time to do is put on lipstick and mascara, maybe a smidge of under eye concealer.

“Here.” He hands me the high end microfiber towel I use to blot my hair dry, but it’s still wet from this morning.

“I’ll just use a t-shirt,” I explain, heading into my room. “What are you going to wear?”

“I guess I should be asking you the same thing,” he says coldly. I spin around and seeing him stopped in my bedroom doorway, his eyes narrowed. “That’s quite the revenge dress. Exactly where were you planning to wear it?”

“Nowhere, obviously, because I fell asleep on my damn couch.”

“So he cancelled on you.”

“Who?

“Whoever was going to rip this off you tonight!” he yells.

“I didn’t have a date,” I reply calmly. “I was thinking about going to a party with Demi and Ava.”

“Yeah, this is a real girls’ night out kind of dress.” Adam huffs out a bitter laugh. “Hell, I think I fucking bought it for you.”

“I bought it myself,” I snap. “Two years ago. And yeah, it’s my go-to one night stand dress. Works like a charm every time.”

“Nice way to rub salt in the wound.”

“Oh, my God. You don’t know me at all,” I sigh. “That was sarcasm, it still has the tag on it. Like I’d ever be confident enough to wear that out of the house.”

Adam rubs his chin, closing his eyes in exasperation. “But tonight was the night, wasn’t it?” He steps into my bedroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Why does every single piece of him have to be so goddamned gorgeous? His eyes stay locked with mine as he approaches the bed. “Just to be clear,” he says, dipping down to one knee and reaching under my bed. “I’ve been faithful throughout our latest little spat. Cheating hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“You have been cheating on me since you were 16 years old,” I hiss back. “And all I’ve ever been able to do my entire life is cheat back.”

His expression softens in confusion and he doesn’t reply for a few moments. This is why I don’t like to drink around him. The last thing I need is for Adam to fully realize just how much power he holds over me. It will just make it that much more painful when he leaves again. He sits back on his heels, holding a box he retrieved from under my bed that I didn’t even know was there.

“Is that really what it’s felt like for you?” he asks quietly.

“How did that get under there?” I ask, trying to redirect the conversation to more pressing matters.

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine.”

After a half second of resistance, both of our mouths curl into amused smiles. Oh, how many times we’ve been right here. Stubborn, insecure, hopelessly in love, and going nowhere. He rises to his feet, that wet towel hanging low, exposing the cut of his hipbone. If it falls off, I’m done for.

“I snuck into your home yesterday while you were at the gym,” he answers first.

“To do what?”

“Hide this box under your bed.”

I reach down and flip the lid off boldly. It’s another thousand dollar white shirt and pair of well-tailored pants, identical to the set he was wearing when he got here. “I guess that answers the premeditated murder question.”

“Of course it was premeditated,” he laughs. “It’s me.”

Yes it is
. The towel drops to the floor and I force my eyes to keep from lowering with it. But he knows I’m desperate to take a peek and that smug grin that always leads to the crazy sex crosses his face. Taking a step around the corner of the bed, he brings his body inches away from mine, tempting me.

“So tell me,” he whispers. “Is that really what it’s felt like all these years? That you were cheating back because you still belonged to me?”

I draw in a hitched breath, shuddering as he softly runs his thumb across my jaw. “I said it, didn’t I?”

“Even when another man dropped to his knees before you and put a ring on your finger?”

“Especially then.”

The arrogance dissipates from his smile, replaced with a more genuine form of satisfaction. “Round and round we go. We’ll never be even, will we?”

“I suppose it’s a question of quantity versus quality.”

“Indeed it is,” he says, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it. “Quality hurts more.”

He’s right. That’s my one condolence. I think I’d have died on the spot if he’d ever actually fell in love with someone else. “Quantity hasn’t been that easy to endure, either.”

“There are only so many ways to say that I’m sorry.”

“I’d rather have you show me,” I murmur

An impatient grunt rumbles through his chest and he lurches forward. I gasp into his kiss as his fingers unroll the hem of my towel, leaving me exposed to his whims, exactly where I want to be.

But then the alarm I set on my phone goes off. “Twenty minutes ‘til New Year’s,” I breathe, arching my back to meet his advance as his mouth closes around my nipple.

“Motherfucker,” he growls, peeling himself off me. “Wear that scandalous red dress.”

“Absolutely not,” I reply, scampering over to my vanity mirror to put on a trace of makeup and squeeze a bit more water from my hair.

“We need eyes on us,” he says, trying to convince me with logic when I know that he’s motivated by jealousy.

“It’s too formal.”

“I know,” he admits with a groan. “Which is why you’re wearing this.”

I spin around and catch a different red dress that he tosses toward me. It’s a knit wrap with barely a hint of shimmer, exactly the kind of thing you’d pull on after rolling out of bed to make it downstairs for the countdown. “Was this in your box?”

“It was. We were both destined to wear red tonight.”

I almost ask him what he means and then my mind flashes on the smear of blood on his sleeve. He’s chillingly casual about the ordeal, which isn’t unlike him. I wonder how I’ll process it myself once the wine wears off. It’s not like the bastard didn’t deserve it. Adam did the world a favor. I just don’t want him to pay for it.

He slams back five shots of bourbon as I chug a cup of coffee and then we head to the elevator. I always knew living in a building with a hotel occupying the bottom floors would come in handy. For a moment, I hope that none of my neighbors or coworkers will be in attendance, but then I realize that would probably be the best case scenario.

My head starts spinning again on the elevator ride down and my stomach turns with it. I really should have eaten something. Adam folds me into his arms, cupping the back of my head tenderly as I groan into his shoulder. As soon as we enter the banquet hall, he finds a table and helps me sit down, then runs over to the refreshment table and comes back with a plate of savory hors d’oeuvres for me to devour.

Now I just have to get through the night without puking them back up. The music is loud and thumps though my skull, reminding me that this is the biggest party of the year for everyone else here, a party I’m far too inebriated to enjoy. But I make the rounds with Adam on my arm and a flute of sickeningly sweet champagne in my hand.

We just need to be seen. He waves at an acquaintance and pulls me closer whispering into my ear a reassurance that this is almost over. His arm is wrapped around my waist the entire time as we scan the crowd for someone we might know well enough who can verify that we were here.

I spot an ideal candidate on the dance floor and mutter a curse word under my breath. Adam sees him at the same time and his spine lengthens as he pulls me closer.

“Perfect,” he breathes as our potential backup alibi notices us. The man also happens to be someone I briefly dated.

The thumping beat gets slower as one song transitions into another and a clock appears on the giant screen above the DJ. 11:56:01. Four tortuous minutes left.

“Let’s dance.”
Oh, God, I can barely stand. I’m glad I wore flats.
“Make it memorable,” he demands, his hand sliding down my flank as he grinds into me.

How ironic. Adam never wants to go out, let alone dance, and now we’re here and I’m the miserable one that would have rather stayed home. “It was only a few dates,” I say, doing my best to keep up with him.

“He fucked you though, right?”

“
We
slept together twice, yes.”

“How long ago?”

“You already know.”

“Remind me,” he growls.

“Four months.”

With a grunt, he flashes my former love interest an arrogant smile as he dips me down into his arms. My head falls backwards and Adam winds his hands into my hair. For a fleeting instant my biggest concern is the fact that my dress is pulled down low across my breasts, the fabric caught between my pliable body and the control freak manipulating it. But then my eyes fly open widely as I feel Adam’s open mouth brush across my sternum, his hand tightening in my hair to keep me in place as his tongue drags up to my collarbone and latches onto my neck.