Ready For You (8 page)

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Authors: J. L. Berg

BOOK: Ready For You
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On a Saturday night, no less.
 

In our pajamas.
 

I thought we were miserably failing our age bracket.
 

“He just left. He locked the door and walked out,” I finally answered.

I would have gone into hell for you…for both of you.

I omitted that part when I recapped Garrett’s late-night visit.
 

There hadn’t been much to say after that. He’d left. Lying awake in my bed, I’d listened to my echoing breaths moving in and out of my lungs, the sounds quietly filling my empty bedroom, as I’d wallowed in regret. I’d thought about my parents and the choke-hold control they’d had over my life back then.
 

Those heels I’d worn the night Garrett came and picked me up were a complete act of rebellion. Olivia and I had been told to go out and buy suitable ensembles for a formal dinner. Credit cards had been thrown at us, and we’d been sent on our way.
 

Olivia’s parents could throw money around, charging things every single day without worrying about the consequences. My parents, on the other hand, would rack up the debt and then worry until my dad’s next big court case, hoping he would make enough to pay the cards off. The trust fund my mother had liked to brag about wasn’t even money my dad had earned himself. It had been money my grandparents had set aside for me. I had no doubt it was gone now. My parents always lived beyond their means, and they thought they hid it well. My mother would sell her clothes on eBay to make extra cash, or she’d wear an outfit once and return it, telling me it hadn’t fit right when I knew it had.
 

While I’d known what they were doing, what I hadn’t understood was why. Why try so hard? Why not just live a happy existence, like everyone else?
 

Garrett came from a well-to-do family. His father had a well-paying job, and they always lived within their means. I’d never seen a happier family. Why couldn’t mine be like that?
 

When I’d returned home with my sexy designer pumps that were not on my mother’s acceptable list of clothing, she’d had a full-out panic attack.
 

“How could you do this, Amelia? Don’t you understand who will be there? I should have never let you go to that school. It’s a terrible influence,” she said, clearly flustered.

“No, Mom, I don’t understand,” I answered bluntly.
 

I didn’t bother to correct her on the fact that they probably couldn’t afford to send me to a private school because of her massive clothing budget. Olivia’s parents sent her to public school to fit a certain image for her father’s political career, but I was under no illusions that my parents were doing the same.

“My school is perfectly fine,” I snapped.
 

I was angry. She was making a big deal out of nothing. I wanted to look grown-up for once. I was sick of looking like a porcelain doll. Look but don’t touch. I wanted my boyfriend to see me in something sexy for a change, rather than the mother-approved garments I was always in.
 

“You just don’t care about anything, do you?” she huffed.

“It’s just a pair of shoes, Mom.”
 

I stormed out the door and got ready for the evening.
 

I didn’t talk to my mom for the rest of the evening, even when I showed up with Olivia and Garrett. Just as I’d thought, no one gasped or fainted when I walked in, looking like a traitor in my inappropriate heels. It wasn’t like they were covered in rhinestones or glitter. They were designer, and they had cost a fortune. But in my mother’s head, she had a vision of what a sixteen-year-old should look like, and it was not this.
 

I’d spent the evening laughing and dancing with Garrett. It had been the first time I’d ever enjoyed being in that awful country club my parents loved so much. I hadn’t paid attention to anyone else other than my best friend and boyfriend. They’d made everything better. I’d thought I had won the battle with my mother that night, and I felt exhilarated. When I woke up the next morning and found my shoes had disappeared, I knew I hadn’t.
 

When I was chaperoned to every other shopping excursion from that moment on, I knew I would never win. I had been pretty sure the only reason she’d allowed me to keep Garrett around was because she’d known I would only rebel further if she tried to take him away, and she had been petrified of a scene.
 

“So, have you heard from him since?” Liv asked, bringing me out of my head and back to the present.
 

“Nope,” I answered.
 

He hadn’t shown up since then to help with the floors, and he hadn’t called to say if he would be returning. I thought it was safe to say he was done with me, and I didn’t blame him.

“That man is very different from the boy I once knew,” Liv said wistfully.

I didn’t say anything. I just nodded in agreement.

The more time I’d spent with him, the more evident this realization had become. This man was Garrett, but he wasn’t my Garrett, not anymore, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible. When I would look into his eyes, I could see pain, hurt, and anger. Those were emotions I’d never encountered before with the bright-eyed boy I’d left so long ago. When I’d decided to leave and never come back, I’d thought he would be better off because of it. I always pictured him happy with that carefree attitude of his. In my head, he had gotten married, and he was content. It hurt to think of it, but it was what had kept me from rushing back every day. It was the only thing that had allowed me to come back now. I’d thought that after so much time had passed, someone like him couldn’t possibly be alone.
 

Seeing him on that busy street in the middle of the farmers’ market, carrying the young boy on his shoulders was exactly how I’d pictured him in my head. But that wasn’t his life. After all this time, he was alone. Had I done that?

Before I had time to contemplate that, my doorbell rang. Our food had arrived.
 

Let our sad Saturday night begin.

I rose from the couch and gathered the money we’d pooled together off the kitchen counter. I headed for the door. Thanks to an overbearing Garrett sending over a locksmith, every door and window lock had been replaced with shiny new locks to keep the bad guys out. After flipping the new lock that had just been installed, I pulled the door open.

“Did someone order in on a Saturday night?” a feminine voice asked.

I found Leah standing on the other side, holding up two bags of food, as she sported a wry grin.

“Did you take up a new side job?” I asked, wondering why she was at my door.

“Nope, but I bet I could make a lot of tips dressed like this, huh?” she said, giving a glance at her attire.
 

She wasn’t kidding about the tips. She was dressed to kill. Mile-high nude heels made her already long legs look endless, and the pink dress she was wearing clung to her like a second skin. I didn’t know anyone who could pull off something like that, but she did so flawlessly.
 

“So, what exactly are you doing, looking like a guy’s wet dream on my doorstep?” I asked, motioning for her to come in.
 

She breezed past me and strutted toward the kitchen. She put the bags of food in the fridge
.
 

Wait, what? I want to eat that.

“I ran into your delivery guy on your porch. I paid for your food. You’re welcome,” she said with a grin. “But you won’t be eating it tonight.”

“Hey, hot stuff,” Liv said, greeting Leah like they were old pals, as she came into the kitchen.
 

“Hey. Olivia, right?”
 

Liv nodded. “You can call me Liv.”

I gave Leah a look that said to get to the point. My food was currently cooling in the fridge, and I was getting cranky.
 

“So, you guys are seriously sitting around in your pajamas on a Saturday night?” Leah glanced down at our frumpy clothes.
 

I was pretty sure I could see a stain on my hoodie that had been there since college.
I was so sexy.
 

“Yep,” we said in unison.

“That’s just sad. You are too young for this shit. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
 

She grabbed both of our hands and began dragging us up the flight of stairs.
 

“Wait, what are we doing?” I asked.

“We are going out. I have excuses for PJ Saturdays. It’s called two kids. You two, however, do not have any excuses. Tonight, Clare and I both have babysitters, and you two will be joining us on our night out.”

I thought about arguing, but from her determined face as she started rummaging through my closet, I didn’t think I had a choice. She was a woman on a mission.
 

“How many cardigans does one woman need to own, Mia?” Leah asked, poking her head out of my tiny closet.
 

It was such a mess. I was surprised she hadn’t been swallowed up by it yet.
 

“I get cold easily, and they’re always on sale,” I answered defensively.
 

I heard her muffled laugh somewhere in the depth of my closet.
 

“Well, in this”—she emerged out of the mess, holding up a black mini skirt and glittery tank top—“you will be so hot that we will all have to put out fires behind you.”

My eyes went wide at the sight of those two pieces. I’d bought them on a whim off of a sale rack when I was feeling daring, but I had never actually worn either. Leah and Liv were both looking at me with big Cheshire Cat grins that said I would be wearing that outfit tonight.
 

Well, here goes nothing.

After a bit more rummaging, we found a red dress for Liv that accented her dark hair and alabaster skin and a pair of matching heels.
 

Leah, of course, insisted on redoing my makeup. Liv got off easy, applying her own. But I was, in Leah’s opinion, too sweet-looking and needed to get a bit dirty.
 

After thirty minutes, I looked in the mirror and gasped in surprise. My eyes were smoky and sultry, and my cheekbones were sculpted yet subtle. My lips looked luscious and understated in a peachy gloss that brought out the reddish highlights in my hair.
 

I put on my micro mini skirt and tank, and I slipped into my patent leather heels. I checked myself out in the full-length mirror on the back of my door.

I look hot.
 

If only my mom could see me now, she’d have a heart attack. No, she’d have to have a heart for that, and she definitely did own anything that beat or expressed emotion.
 

All three of us piled into Leah’s car, and I tried not to giggle as I sat down next to the infant seat in my sexy ensemble. It seemed sort of ridiculous.
 

“So, you have a babysitter, and you aren’t spending the evening with your husband?” I asked Leah as she merged onto the interstate, headed for downtown.
 

I’d seen pictures of her husband. Hell, I was a fan of her husband, and if I were her, I didn’t think I’d be able to leave the house. He was sex-on-a-stick hot, and from the way Leah had spoken, she mounted that stick as frequently as possible.
 

Lucky bitch.
 

“Oh, he’ll be there,” she said with a sly grin.

“What exactly does that mean? This isn’t a girls’ night out?” I asked.

“Oh, it is…sort of. The guys are out on their own, and we are out as well. I found out where they are going though, so we’ll just happen to be at the same place.”

I was so confused. “Why are we doing this?”

“Do you see the way I’m dressed?” she asked.

“Uh…yeah, it’s kind of hard to miss.”

Liv was already laughing. Apparently, she got it, but I was still lost. Was I that naive?

“She’s showing up to drive her husband nuts. That’s awesome…and kind of evil.”

Leah shrugged. “Hey, when you’re married, you’ve got to do things to keep your husband on his toes. Showing up unexpectedly, looking hotter than sin, will drive him insane.”
 

“And Clare?” I asked, wondering if she was in on the plan.

“Oh, I was at her house before I came and got you. She’s all sexed-up, too. Logan will lose his shit. Our good friend, Ella, is coming with her as well to surprise her husband, Colin.”

Awesome. So, the entire gang will be there.
I suddenly felt awkward and out of place. Hanging out with a bunch of married couples didn’t sound like a fun night at all.
 

“So, why are we going with you? We don’t have any husbands to drive nuts,” I said.

“No, you don’t. But you have the rest of the bar,” she said with a mischievous grin.
 

 

~Garrett~

My brother-in-law was the last person I’d expected to see at a karaoke bar in the middle of downtown on a Saturday night. As I entered the packed hot spot with several of my coworkers, I saw him sitting in the corner with his two best buddies as they were laughing, drinking cold beers, and trying to ignore a drunk sorority girl singing a horrible rendition of No Doubt’s “Just a Girl.”
 

I hadn’t really wanted to come in the first place. Nothing sounded better than a beer, but I’d rather enjoy it at home by myself—without the noise.
 

God, I was fucking lame.
 

I turned to Kara, who was leading the pack of us. “Hey, I see my brother-in-law. I’m going to go over and say hi for a second.”
 

She glanced over at the table I was pointing at, and she immediately zeroed in on Declan, one of Logan’s best friends. Her eyes widened in what could only be described as wonderment.
 

Oh, great. She’s a fan.
I gave a sigh. “Do you want to come with me?”
 

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