100 PROOF Page 7

  “Maybe a little,” Mom said, shrugging it off. “Maybe it’s just the jitters. It’s okay to get nervous sometimes. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Just let her have her space whenever she asks for it. Don’t make her feel like she’s in the wrong for needing time alone.”

  “Yeah,” Lloyd mumbled, swinging his eyes over to me briefly before looking at Mom. “Sure.”

  MARLEY

  Brunch was . . . unpleasant, to say the least.

  All I wanted to do was shout KILL ME NOW!

  There was I was, wedged between my ex-boyfriend and my fiancé. My heart was beating down on my ribcage, and I swear if someone listened hard enough they probably could have heard it. I hardly had an appetite, being between them, but I ate anyway to occupy myself.

  I was relieved when Vin finished eating and went outside for a smoke. Mr. and Mrs. Harris decided to check out the boutique beside the restaurant, and after several minutes, Lloyd wanted to join them as well.

  I wasn’t up for it. I needed air. Space. This was turning into one gigantic clusterfuck, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  He kissed me on the cheek before leaving, and I made use of my time by walking to the private upstairs balcony. Fortunately, it was vacant.

  I fished through my clutch as I stepped outside, knowing I had it with me.

  When I came across my oil vaporizer pen, I brought it up to my lips, inhaling like my life depended on it.

  That sweet THC filled my lungs in an instant, calming some of my chaotic nerves. Lloyd would have found this habit unattractive, of course, so I only smoked in private. It was a good thing it didn’t leave a scent.

  He didn’t like smokers, so I didn’t smoke often. Only when I was stressed. Like now.

  I leaned my forearms on the metal rail, staring out towards the busy street. As I took another inhale, I heard footsteps behind me.

  I turned quickly, hiding the vaporizer and meeting brown eyes.

  Vin walked out with his hands in his front pockets. His bed hair was fingered with light strokes of gel, the same way he used to wear it. He looked fit and toned in all the right places, his skin tan and smooth. He still had a great body, and it worked well with his low rider jeans and gray T-shirt.

  “I see you still got it,” he noted, eyes shifting down. He was trying to see the vaporizer. I eventually sighed and revealed it. What difference did it make to him? He’d already caught me smoking it.

  “Why aren’t you with everyone else?” I asked, tucking it back into my clutch.

  “Because you aren’t.” He met up at the guardrail, standing right beside me.

  My pulse skittered as his cologne drifted past my nostrils. He still smelled the same. I used to love it, sleeping on his chest, smelling him on my clothes, my skin.

  Wait…no.

  That’s over.

  Stop it, Marley.

  I kept my eyes forward, ignoring that last thought. “You know he and Will are paying me to be his best man? My being here is no surprise to Lloyd. He knew I was coming.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why would he pay you to come? Seems like he would have been better off not inviting you.”

  “He promised Becks he would make it happen. He didn’t want to disappoint her. She also doesn’t know they’re paying me to be here.”

  “That doesn’t mean you had to come.”

  “I didn’t want to disappoint her either.” He glanced at me, face stiff. I knew he had a soft spot for his mother. If it weren’t for her, I was certain he wouldn’t have set foot in Texas.

  The wind rustled my bangs. I pulled my eyes away from him, focusing on my French-manicured toenails.

  “You aren’t really going to go through with this, are you?” he asked after a few quiet seconds.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I met his gaze. “It’s already happening, Vin. I already said yes.”

  His face screwed up as he turned his large body fully to face me. “Did you even think about it?” He stepped closer. “Do you even love him?”

  I swallowed hard, looking away. “He’s safe. I didn’t need to think about it.”

  He scoffed, looking towards the street. “Safe? Is that what you’re after now? What happened to being true to yourself? What happened to being loyal?”

  “I was loyal, Vin. For three years I was loyal to you. People like me get fed up when it comes to dealing with constant bullshit, especially when it’s coming from the same person.”

  His eyes hardened, examining mine thoroughly. “I got better.”

  “Yeah,” I huffed. “Only after realizing I wasn’t coming back.”

  He was quiet for so long I thought the conversation was over, but then he spoke again, voice gentle. “You’re right,” he murmured, taking a step closer. “And I hate that it took losing you for me to realize that what I had was good. I needed you—I still need you.”

  He grabbed my hands, bringing them up to his lips. It was an act he’d performed many times before, and I used to fall for it every time.

  He kissed my fingertips and then the back of my hand, looking beneath his brows and those thick, black eyelashes, right at me.

  “Can I tell you something?” he asked softly.

  I blinked in response.

  “Last night I thought about you. Your body on top of mine. Riding me and loving it.” My face fell flat, but I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “Remember what you used to tell me? To get drunk on you? Whenever I wanted a drink, you would tell me to take you to get my mind off of it. I would kill to hear those words again—to feel you wrapped around me.”

  “Vin.” I felt my core clench tight as he trailed kisses up to my wrist, refusing to stop.

  “He doesn’t get to have you, Marley,” he whispered on my skin, bringing his other hand down to clutch my hip.

  God, his lips were still so soft and warm. His possessive grip on me only heightened my senses, that and the buzz I had now. It didn’t take much for me to imagine his lips everywhere—on my neck, my chest, my belly . . . between my legs.

  Heat shot right through me like a rocket, pooling in my panties, but, despite the fiery frenzy, I yanked my hand away and stepped back.

  “Stop. We can’t, Vin.” I held his gaze, breathing a little harder, flustered. “Just . . . face the facts, okay? I’m marrying Lloyd in three months. Your brother. I’m going to be his wife soon. You have to accept it and forget about whatever we had. Okay?”

  He frowned. “You’re asking me to forget about what we had, like it was nothing?”

  “It wasn’t meant to be, Vinny, and you know it.”

  “Fuck that, Marley. You know damn well what we had can’t be forgotten. It’s not that easy to just let it go. It’s only been two years, for fuck’s sake.”

  I sighed, moving away. “Well, the only thing I can do is try to forget and move on.” I felt guilty for saying that. I hated this was happening, probably just as much as he did, but if I didn’t say it, he wasn’t going to take the hint. “I’m sorry, Vinny, but this is our reality now.”

  “Marley, come on. Please,” he begged, stepping towards me, extending an arm. His eyes glistened with so many emotions. So much regret. “Just think about what you’re doing. You know you don’t belong with him.”

  Before he could say more, and before Lloyd or anyone else tried to come find me, I walked away, back inside the restaurant and down the stairs, leaving him with his arms wide open.

  As soon as I found Lloyd, I told him I was ready to go. His parents took their ride home, I took mine with Lloyd, and Vin took his back to the hotel without saying goodbye.

  I knew he had a flight scheduled to go back to California. He was leaving. I didn’t know if I was glad or sad about it, but what could I do?

  I couldn’t chase him—couldn’t hunt him down or give him a hug. It would have proven too much, and feeling him holding me in his big, warm arms would have gutted me. I would have wanted him—craved him all over again. I could hardly even look at Vin. I couldn’t imagine touching
him again in that way.

  I was getting my life on track now.

  Vin had to accept the ugly truth and pretend to be okay with it because I wasn’t about to lose out on everything I worked so hard for, just to fall back into his clutches.

  It couldn’t happen.

  I deserved better.

  MARLEY

  Past

  I didn’t want to go home after work, and Vin didn’t ask any questions as to why not. Instead, he kept driving, with his music on blast.

  I spotted a sign for Laguna Beach, which was about twenty-five minutes out from Santa Ana, and before I knew it, he was slowing down, pulling up to a familiar, luxurious building.

  Holly Estates.

  Mom worked here during the weekends. I remember her bringing me once when I was fifteen. The building was several years older than me, but it was a beautiful place. Elegant, really, and didn’t match Vincent Chambers at all.

  When he passed by the sign with the big, illuminated HE on it, he pulled into a garage with LED lights built into the walls.

  “Wow. Fancy, much?” I teased him.

  He half-shrugged, shutting the car off and then climbing out. “Come on.”

  I followed suit, grabbing my leather satchel and strapping it over my shoulder. He walked to the door that was ahead of us, pulling out his keys. I expected stairs or even a hallway when he opened the door, but that wasn’t the case. There was a short walkway leading to spotless silver elevator doors.

  He pushed the up arrow button, and it opened within seconds. When he stepped into the cart, I hesitated, looking all around.

  He laughed. “You coming or what?” The doors started to shut, but he pressed the button to make them reopen.

  “We’re going to your place alone? Do you think that’s wise?”

  He put on a crooked smile. “Do you?”

  I grinned when he asked that. “Hell, no.” And without much thought, I walked ahead and entered the elevator, standing right beside him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this with you.”

  “What’s so bad about doing stuff with me?” he laughed, turning sideways to look down at me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re just . . . different.”

  “Than the usual fuck-boy you hang out with?”

  I laughed at that. “Why do you think I have guys lined up for me?”

  He cocked a brow. “Probably the same reason you think I have girls lined up for me. ‘Cause we’re hot.”

  I giggled. “Well, do you?”

  “Nah.” He looked to the left, watching the numbers climb. “I keep to myself more than anything.”

  “Same here.” I looked up at the glowing blue buttons as they continued to climb. “Jesus, what floor are you on?”

  He smiled but didn’t answer. Finally, the elevator slowed down, reaching the twentieth floor. As soon as the doors pulled apart, he veered left. There were only two doors on this floor. My eyebrows drew together as his keys jingled and he unlocked one of them.

  He walked right in, flipping a light switch. The dim light revealed dark-brown leather furniture and glass tables. I stepped in as he waited by the door.

  When I was inside, he shut it behind me and then walked past, dropping his keys on an island counter in the kitchen.

  The kitchen was huge—black marble countertops and chrome appliances with black accents. It was surprisingly clean for a twenty-four year old male.

  He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of soda. I continued my venture, walking towards the couches, spotting the staircase to the left, leading up to what was probably a loft. The home smelled like leather—like the furniture was new—but I could tell it wasn’t. It was slightly worn in one spot, like he sat there often. On the table was a football, joint papers, and specks of marijuana. Go figure.

  “You play?” I asked, pointing at the ball.

  He glanced back, and then shrugged. “Used to in high school.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  I picked my head up, looking at the stretched floor-to-ceiling windows ahead of me. There was so much space inside this place and so many windows ahead of me; I didn’t know where to start. I walked towards one of them, and when I looked out I could see the beach—and not just any beach. It was Laguna. It wasn’t too far away, probably only a block or so, and the view was breathtaking.

  I’d always wanted an ocean view home. I wanted to be able to wake up one morning and look out towards the waves while sipping on a freshly brewed cup of coffee. The sight of crashing waves was comforting, like blue crystals running up to shore.

  Below, twenty floors down, was a clear, blue pool and a hot tub off to the right. There was also a fire pit already ablaze, and white pool furniture and lounge chairs surrounding it.

  I was standing in a penthouse. Being on the very top floor, with this view and this much space? It had to be pricey.

  “This is your place?” I asked, turning around. He was standing in the living room now, in front of the glass coffee table.

  “Yep.”

  “How . . . I mean . . .” I shook my head, peering over my shoulder. “How do you even afford a place like this?”

  He sat down in the worn spot and started cleaning off the table. “My mother knows the woman who owns this building—not that she can’t afford it, but she gave her a deal for this space.”

  “Where do you work?” I inquired, walking his way.

  He glanced up as I took my bag off and placed it on the floor. “I don’t.”

  “So you just have your mom taking care of you? No job, no responsibilities?”

  “Nah. I used to work at a nightclub a few months ago. Moreheads? Heard of it?”

  “Yeah, I think so. In LA, right? Isn’t that like an hour away from here?”

  “Yeah, it is. But I didn’t mind the drive. Anyway, they fired me. I was never late, didn’t talk back. I did what I needed to do, but the boss just didn’t like me.”

  “Why not? He had to have a reason not to like you,” I laughed as he stood up and walked to the kitchen again. He rustled around a bit and then returned with a bottle of Jack Daniels 100 Proof and two shot glasses.

  “Oh, I knew exactly why he didn’t like me,” he chuckled. “His wife wanted to fuck me. She was a cougar, trying to chase down the younger boys. She always hung out at the club, wearing short skirts or dresses and those tall heels to show off her legs, trying to get attention. Only thing is . . . I’m not really into cougars—married ones at that—so when she tried to hit on me, I kind of turned her down.”

  I busted out laughing. “You’re lying!”

  “I’m not! It’s the truth, I swear.” He laughed, twisting the bottle open and pouring the amber liquid into a glass. “So, the boss fired me when he heard about it, assumed I came onto her. It was bullshit. I didn’t care. I told my mother what happened, and she told me to just lay low for a while and take care of myself.” He made a face. “Whatever the hell that means.”

  “So while you’re taking care of yourself, she’s paying for this place?”

  “Pretty much. I didn’t ask for it, though. She set it all up. I plan to look for another job soon. Just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “Wow. You have it made, don’t you, rich guy?” I teased again.

  “As you can see, I don’t own the place. I’m not rich, just have a wealthy parent . . . and she has a wealthy husband.” His face grew tight when he mentioned the husband. His jaw even pulsed. He didn’t think I noticed, but I did. He became quiet for several seconds, and then sighed.

  I didn’t push. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “You told me you weren’t in the mood for flirting or anything this morning,” he probed, scanning me with his eyes. “Can I ask why you weren’t?”

  “Just had a rough morning,” I mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m over it now.”

  “Hmm.” His lips meshed together. I was glad he didn’t press for more. Instead, he picked up the shot glasses and han
ded one to me. “Well, how about we drink until you forget about the shitty morning you had, huh? This is some strong shit. I’m sure it’ll help.”

  I fought a smile, accepting the glass. “Why are you being so nice to me after how I treated you at the diner?”

  He lowered his gaze, those thick lashes touching his cheekbones. “Because I know how the shitty mornings can be.” He picked his head up and our eyes locked. My breathing became thicker, like an anchor had landed on my chest, making it harder to breathe.

  “Okay, rich guy. You win.” I smiled. “Let’s drink and forget.”

  He smiled too, and when I tipped my glass back, he did as well. He poured us two more shots, but by the second one I was already feeling the buzz, the warmth swimming in my veins and easing my troubled mind. He was right. It was strong stuff, and it did take some of the stress away.

  Vin did his best to try and make me feel better. He turned on some music, cranked the volume, and then grabbed my hand, forcing me to dance with him. I could tell he was drunk. A sober Vincent wouldn’t have started dancing to the music. He’d had way more whiskey than me, but I didn’t mind it.

  He was fun this way, laughing as he twirled me around like we were in some romance movie. But then a heavier, sexier song by Dej Loaf came on, slowing down the momentum, and he reeled me in, close to his firm body. He looked down at me, sliding his hands down to my hips, holding me there.

  “Would you call me crazy if I told you I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the party?” he murmured, lips close to mine.

  “Why would that be crazy?” My question was winded and soft.

  His hands traveled down, and he held my ass in his hands, his lips feathery light on mine. I was drunk for sure, but with him so close I felt like I was swirling, intoxicated with all the wrong things.

  He didn’t respond to my question. I was glad. I was purposely deflecting. I didn’t want to start talking about how I’d kind of avoided him. I didn’t show up at Zay’s parties anymore, and it was for a reason: I didn’t want to run into Vin. Noelle told me he was always there and always looking for me.