Brea
My fingers tap nervously against the steering wheel. Exhaling, I cut the engine, and climb out of the car. I feel a little tense as I enter my brother's restaurant. We haven't spoken at all since the challenge, and I just know it is going to be awkward.
There are a few tables filled, and for once, no one stops to stare at me as I walk through. Nathan exits the kitchen carrying a tray, making his way behind the bar. He glances up and pauses when he notices me. His lips spread into a thin line and his eyebrow raises.
"Hello," I say. His hair is messier than usual today, and he looks tired, as if he hasn't slept well. "Can we talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about."
My brother can honestly be the most stubborn, infuriating person on the planet. He was bad when we were kids, but I honestly think he is getting worse with age.
Turning his back to me, he continues walking. Hands curling into fists at my side, I stomp after him, growing angrier by the second.
"I'm sorry that we lost the challenge, but it isn't fair to put the entire blame on me."
Nathan whirls around, his jaw clenching. "If you weren't so distracted, you might have tried a bit harder."
"That's fucking ridiculous but I'm not going to stand here and argue about something so stupid," I retort hotly, feeling my cheeks growing hot. "And secondly, not that it is anyone's concern, but I have not slept with Zander, and he was just making a joke."
"Right," Nathan nods, giving me a disbelieving smile. The sarcastic, shit-eating smirk that I want to wipe the floor with. "Okay, sis."
"So get over it, and move on."
"No," Nathan argues stubbornly, and in this moment, he looks so much like his ten-year-old self.
"Then I'm leaving."
"Good."
"Great!" I snap, stomping back out, not even having made it in there five minutes.
Dad told me to be the mature one and approach things with calmness and maturity, when I saw him this morning. He wouldn't be proud of either of us, but he shouldn't be surprised. He always told us working together would never last.
Throwing myself back in the car, I start dialling Zander's number before I can even question what I'm doing. He answers after a few rings.
"Hey, Angel." A rush of warmth fills me out the sound of his deep, raspy voice.
"Hi, Cowboy," I say with a strained smile.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"Just Nathan being Nathan."
"Are you at work?"
"I was, but I just left. Which is really annoying because I need the money."
"You still got my uniform?"
"Yes," I say.
"Come back to me," Zander replies. A smile stretches across my face. "Where you belong."
"Really?"
"Of course. It's expected to be busy here, but either way, I want you back."
I want you back.
"Thank you, Zander."
"You okay?" he asks gently, and my heart melts a little at his softness.
If I'm not careful, I'm really going to fall for this man.
"I'm fine."
"Okay. See you soon."
Detouring home, I change into my old uniform, spending a little longer than I planned to make myself look nice, just for Zander's sake. Not that he cares how I look or what I wear, but I want to feel nice today.
I reach the pub a few minutes later. The jukebox is singing loudly when I walk inside, and a few of the regulars are out dancing between the tables, looking a little too merry for this time of the afternoon.
Cassie grins when she sees me, and everyone turns to smile. This place, these people, it's beginning to feel like home. Cassie wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. Stepping back, she beams down at me, looking flushed.
"I'm so happy you're back," she says.
"Me too."
"It's half-price pints," Cassie explains, when I eye the couple who have started line dancing.
"That makes sense," I grin.
The back door squeaks, and I glance over to where Zander is entering. His handsome smile stretches over his face as his eyes latch onto mine. He makes his way over to me, and pulls me to him, planting a kiss on my temple. I blush, feeling the eyes of everyone on us, although to Zander, it doesn't seem like he even realises anyone else is here.
His eyes travel over me. "Much better."
Doing a twirl, I place a hand on my hip. "You think?"
"Absolutely." He nods, taking his lower lip between his teeth, and my eyes watch the movement, meanwhile I straighten my back remembering how good those lips have felt across my skin. "Also, I'm taking you out for dinner tonight."
"You are?" I ask, dragging my eyes away from his mouth.
"Yeah. Be ready," he winks, lightly smacking my butt as he walks past.
Feeling a little giddy, I mentally shake myself and get to work.
More and more people arrive due to the discounted pints, and soon, the lunch rush has kicked in, even though our busiest time for lunch is usually an hour or two ago. I move around the tables as the sound of clinking cutlery, sizzling pans from the kitchen, and the volume of conversation on the rise fills my ears.
When a group of younger guys enter all wearing football jerseys, I realise that there must be a game on tonight that everyone is planning to watch. Cassie passes by me with glasses stacked from her hand, all the way to the top of her head.
When I notice the fridge behind the bar is getting bare, I head out the back. Poking my head in the kitchen, I notice that the chefs are rushing around. The heat like a wave as I enter, and the loose bits of hair stick to the back of my neck.
Every surface is covered with plates, bowls, and bundles of ingredients. I've never seen the kitchen look so chaotic. Everyone seems to be handling it well though. They have all been here for years, so they smoothly work with each other.
"Everyone okay in here?" I ask. "Can I help with anything?"
"All good, darlin'," one of the chefs with a beard so long, I fear if he bends in the slightest it'll disappear into the bowl of soup in front of him.
Giving him a thumbs up, I disappear back through the door. I slip inside the cool room and feel the cool air wash over my skin. My shoulders sag for a moment. It's so nice in here compared to outside. After letting myself bathe in the coolness for a few seconds, I pull out the cart to fill up with the stock that needs to be taken out the front.
The cart is almost full when I hear the door open. Glancing over my shoulder, Zander walks inside, raking his hand through his unruly, dark hair. My eyes track over the bulge in his bicep as he does. Lowering the glass down, I straighten, and back up as he strides toward me. Taking my face between his hands, he dives toward my mouth.
His scent invades me. A delicious combination of citrus, mint, and sandalwood, alongside something utterly and completely him. Something warm, and spicy, and everything I could ever want a man to smell like. I crave to be closer to him, and as if reading my mind, he drags me closer, thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth. I moan into him, my hands roaming over his hard chest.
Breathlessly, we part. He stares down at me. My lips feel wet and swollen from the intense kiss. His crooked smirk tilts unevenly across his mouth. He steps back, and my skin heats as his eyes inch slowly over me, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest.
"I couldn't wait until tonight," he murmurs, voice rough, sending a shiver sliding down my spine.
With that, he turns, leaving me gasping for breath, clinging onto the wall behind me for support. Turning, I rest my forehead against the glass, begging my skin to cool down.
The door opens again, and he re-appears.
"Just one more," he says, reaching me in two long steps, claiming my mouth with his again.
This time when he releases me, I drop to my knees, looking up at him. His lips part as he stares down at me. I unbuckle his pants and shove them down his thighs. Leaning forward, one arm rests on the shelf above him, allowing him to cage me in.
My fingers trail over the bulge in his pants, and he groans when I circle my thumb over the tip of him. Curling my fingers around the edge of his briefs, I pull them down, releasing him.
The sound of his heavy breathing fills the room as I wrap my lips around the end of him. He hisses, tensing as my tongue laps the head of him before I slide my mouth deeper down his length.
His free hand strokes his fingers through my hair, and it feels way too good right now.
"Fuck," Zander mutters.
Maintaining eye contact with him, I take him deeper, until he hits the back of my throat, making me gag. He pulls back, allowing me breath, and I shake my head.
"I can handle it," I say, even though I have never taken someone of this size in my mouth like this. "Show me how you like it."
Zander's eyes drift close and he inhales sharply. He nods quickly, re-opening them, those piercing eyes staring down at me.
Opening my mouth once more, I trace his length with my tongue.
"Take it all, Angel," he murmurs, scraping his nails against my scalp.
When he hits the back of my throat, his grip on my hair tightens as he thrusts into my mouth. I moan around him, leaning back and moving my hand in furious pumps. He groans loudly, bucking his hips in time with my movements. I dive toward him again and take him as deep as I can go. Tears stream down my cheeks as he fucks my mouth hard and rough, just like I know he wanted to.
My hand returns to him, and I move it even quicker this time. When he lets out a guttural groan, I suction my mouth back onto him and taste his release as it covers my tongue and shoots down my throat. I swallow it easily, taking every drop, before I step back, wiping my mouth.
We both are breathless and dazed as we gaze at each other.
"You're such a good fucking girl, Angel," Zander chokes out, gripping the shelf above him like it is the only thing keeping him upright. "That was perfect. You are perfect."
Feeling pleased, I take his outstretched hand and get to my feet. Leaning down, he kisses the tip of my nose.
"I couldn't wait until tonight, either," I breathe.
Brushing my tears away with his thumbs, he tenderly kisses the lines they made down my skin.
"Beautiful girl," he murmurs.
Nuzzling into him. I relish in the close for a moment, and then we step away from each other.
Running a hand through his hair, he looks as flushed as I feel.
"I can't wait until we are out of here," he says. "I need you all to myself."
Smiling, I touch his arm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."
When we hear footsteps outside the door, Zander backs up quickly. When the footsteps fade, he slips out the door.
Leaning heavily on the shelf behind me, I run my tongue over my lips, still tasting him everywhere.
When I'm composed, I finish filling the cart, and drag it behind me as I make my way back out to the bar to restock the fridge.
I'm totally dazed and unfocused as I stack the bottles. That man overrides everything inside me and short-circuits my brain.
The volume of the music seems to have gone up again, causing the talking to morph into shouting as people yell to each other across the tables. The buzz of the atmosphere is contagious, and soon I am feeling excited for the game, even though I don't even watch any sport.
Heading over to the table of guys, I smile at them as they glance at me. Beginning to clear their glasses, I neatly stack them on top of each other.
"You're new here," one of the guys says, leaning forward, jostling the table as he does.
"I grew up here," I reply, swiping the empty glass from his hand. He grins at me since I did it without asking. "So technically, I'm not new."
"Did you now?" The guy smiles, looking like he is a few more drinks away from being cut off. "I think I'd remember you around town if you grew up here."
I shrug. "It's been a long time."
"I wouldn't forget pretty face like yours," he continues. After I grab the last glass, I turn away from him, but don't miss the next words from his mouth, even though they're being muttered to the guy beside him. "Or that ass."
A shadow falls over the table and I step back as Zander towers over the boys. The guy's face pales a little as he shifts in his seat.
"What did you just say to her?" Zander asks calmly, but the muscle spasming in his cheeks gives away the anger he is feeling. In fact, I think everyone at the table can feel the anger sizzling off him, because they all fall silent, staring between Zander and their friend.
"Nothing, Zander," he quickly says, and if I had to guess, he is frightened of him. I would be, too. Zander is giant. I have never confirmed his height, but he is easily 6"5, and packed with hard muscle.
"I don't think it was nothing."
"It was. I didn't realise..." the guy says, looking at me. "That she is with you."
"She is with me," Zander snarls at him, sending a delightful thrill through me at his words. Mr. 'I don't do girlfriends'. If I wasn't watching this unfold in growing panic, I would point that out to him. "But that doesn't change the fact that you don't speak to any woman like that. Not here, not anywhere."
Swallowing, the guy nods. "Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry."
"Get out," Zander dismisses him.
"Aw, come on," the guy argues, looking pissed. "It was a joke, Zander. Since when did you become such a fucking bore?"
Zander whirls to face him, flattening his big hands across the table with a distinct smack. Everyone grows quiet as they turn to face the table. My cheeks flame as I feel the eyes of everyone on the room on us.
"I don't care for disrespectful dickheads in my pub. When I say get out, you fucking get out."
Huffing, the guy gets to his feet.
"You're all welcome to stay," Zander says, looking around the table. "If you can enjoy yourselves without being assholes to my staff."
The guy scoffs. "Yeah, right. Come on guys, let's go somewhere else."
The rest of the group glance at each other, not looking like they particularly want to be on the wrong side of Zander.
"We're good here, man," one of them says.
The guy looks at his friends in disbelief, and then outrage. Kicking his leg out, he knocks over one of the chairs. Zander has his shirt clutched in his fist before the chair has even landed on the ground. With one powerful movement, he shoves the guy forward so fast, he can't get his legs to work in time. He lands in a sprawl across the floor. Going bright red, he scrambles to his feet and stumbles out the door, not looking back at any of us.
"Anyone speaks to any of my staff disrespectfully, I'll do much worse than that," Zander says, his voice loud and commanding.
There's a beat of silence, before people clap and cheer. The music returns to its volume, and the loud chatter starts up again. Turning, I face Zander, grinning.
"My hero," I smile. "I must say, seeing you toss a grown man around like he weighed nothing...was a bit of a turn on."
Zander glances down at me, a look of surprise, and amusement on his face.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah," I murmur, tracing my hand down his arm. "Makes me wonder how easily you could throw me around your bed." With that, I smirk, brushing past him and sauntering back to the bar, feeling the heat of his eyes on my back.
The rest of my shift flies back. The place only gets busier, and then once the game is finished, one by one everyone slowly clears out. My feet are aching by the time Zander closes the doors. He slumps against them, and all of us exchange an exhausted look. There is stuff everywhere.
The pub has never looked so chaotic. Glasses, plates, and left-over food fill the tables, as well as the countertops having spilled alcohol across most of them. Now-empty glasses that originally held cashews on it lay on their sides, the crumbs scattered around them. The floor is sticky, littered with utensils that have fallen from tables, napkins, and one table has a pile of Keno cards with inappropriate drawings scribbled across them.
"We probably made more money tonight than we have in the last three months," Cassie laughs, scrubbing her hand down her face.
"Good job everyone. We didn't have enough staff on to cater that many people. Well done." Zander says, beaming around at everyone who is still here, looking like a proud dad.
"Where did they all come from?" One of the chefs yawn, leaning heavily on the door frame of the kitchen. "Seemed like the whole town was here."
"No idea, but I can't complain," Zander says.
"That's a first for you," Cassie quips without hesitation.
He sticks his middle finger up at her and she grins. Facing me, she places her hands on my shoulders.
"Thank God you were here tonight. We would have drowned without you!"
Her appreciation makes my heart warm. At my last job back in the city, I was always undervalued, and overlooked. I love that here they always make me feel like I'm a part of the team, no matter if I make mistakes, or forget something they have already told me before.
As everyone pitches in, it doesn't take long for everything to get tidied up. Zander walks us all out and he waits until everyone has driven off before he turns to me.
"Takeaway?" He suggests, noticing how tired I look.
I nod. "Takeaway sounds good."
"I'll pick it up on my way. Meet at my house?" Zander asks, making his way toward his truck. "Door isn't locked."
"You don't lock your front door?" I question, frowning at him.
Zander shrugs. "It's Glendale. And if someone enters, Diesel will sort them out."
Shaking my head and breathing a soft laugh. "Fair point."
That is such a typical Zander thing to do. To be fair, Diesel did send me flying the first time I came over, so maybe he does have a point...
Inching the volume of the radio up, I cruise down the road in the opposite direction of home. The sharp tone of an incoming call startles me so much that I swerve slightly. I'm borrowing my dad's car since he hasn't been driving much lately. It certainly is easier than walking everywhere, especially when I grocery shop or have to walk at night, although everyone around here argues that this is one of the safest towns in the country.
"Hello?" I ask after I click the 'answer' button on the steering wheel.
"Brea!" Gianna exclaims, as if surprised to hear my voice, although she is the one who called me.
"Gianna!" I say in the same tone.
"How are you?" she asks, her voice much lighter and softer now, making me narrow my eyes suspiciously.
"Fine... Just driving home from work. How are you?"
"I'm good! I just wanted to call you before you see it online..." she trails off, and dread accumulates in my gut.
"What now?" I exhale, my fingers tightening around the worn leather steering wheel.
"Olivia just face-timed the group chat explaining that they booked a getaway weekend next week to elope but have since realised they want to have everyone there. So... they're getting married next weekend."
"Jesus Christ!" I burst out, slamming my hand angrily. "They only just started dating. What the hell are they thinking? And I knew you fucking bitches had a new group chat."
"Well..." Gianna says, and my stomach clenches. This is her 'you're not going to like what I'm about to say' tone. "It seems like they've been together for a while."
"It hasn't been that long since I left," I retort with an eye roll.
"That's what I'm trying to say, Brea," she says quietly. "It sounds like they were sleeping together before, and during the whole time you were with him."
Ice slithers through my veins, and I numbly pull into Zander's driveway. I feel sick. My mouth opens, closes, and then opens again, but my mind can't string a sentence together.
I shouldn't be surprised. It's all making sense now. I bet a lot of people knew about it, too, which only makes it worse.
"Of course they were," I whisper, my heart sinking heavily into my stomach. I don't miss Mitch, and I don't care for him anymore, but I still feel betrayed and humiliated beyond belief. "I'm such a fucking idiot."
"They're the idiots," Gianna says. "They deserve each other, honestly."
"This entire situation is ridiculous." I spit out through clenched teeth, hunching over and pressing my forehead against the leather. Tears spill down my cheeks and I angrily swipe them away. "I don't even know why I'm upset, I haven't missed either one of them since I left."
"Are you serious? I would be livid!" Gianna protests, and I picture the exact furious expression that would be on her face right now. "They can burn in hell for all I care."
Sniffling, I rub my nose with the back of my hand. "Are you going to go to the wedding?"
"I'm in two minds about it. A part of me wants to not go to send a message, meanwhile the other part of me wants to go and drink their free alcohol and make a fool of myself."
"Option two sounds kind of fun," I admit with a half-hearted laugh.
"You know, they are inviting you."
I scoff. "That's big of them."
"You should totally come, and wear something extremely daring so that everyone's eyes are on you. Would be hilarious seeing her face. You know how she has always been so judgemental about what people wear to weddings. I got my invite today, it said we can't wear any navy, black, red, white, cream, or gold." She snorts.
"How could I ever turn up there after all of this?" I sigh, placing the phone on speaker and down beside me so I can fix my makeup. Curiously, I bring up my emails, and see the invite sitting in my inbox. I open it, and skim over it, unable to help roll my eyes at all the rules she has laid out. "People will laugh at me or pity me. I don't know which would be worse."
"Why don't you bring that new hunk of yours and show everyone how well you're really doing? Even if it's just pretend."
For a moment, I consider her words.
"For some reason, I'm not actually opposed to this idea." I say, fixing the smudges in my mascara. "But I can't."
"Why not?"
"I hardly doubt that is Zander's idea of fun."
"I'm sure he would do it. For you." Gianna says.
"You don't even know him."
"You've talked about him enough that I feel like I do," she reminds me. "And let me guess, you're on your way to see him right now?"
Glancing up, I see the headlights of Zander's truck swing into the driveway.
"Maybe," I mutter, smiling.
"Okay, girl. Go have fun. Sorry to drop that bomb on you but have a think about what you want to do and let me know."
"Will do. Thanks for the heads up."
"Love ya."
"Love you, too," I say, before hanging up the phone, and getting out of the car.
Zander waits for me and throws an arm around my shoulder when I'm close. Inspecting me, he leans in close, and I avert my eyes, hoping he can't see how red my eyes are.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
Damn it.
"I'll fill you in when we get inside," I mumble.
Stepping up onto the porch, the sensor light turns on, and Diesel releases a loud bark that makes me jump. He's more relaxed this time and thankfully doesn't know my legs out from under me.
After we both spend ten minutes saying hello to him and Zander giving him dinner, we settle onto the lounge and put on Netflix in the background. After we serve our food onto our plates, we sit back, and he half-turns to me.
"Tell me what's going on," he says.
The words spill out of me, and so do the stupid, angry tears. I don't bother to hide them, I let them fall.
"I don't understand why I'm so upset," I huff, after I've finished the recap.
"Because you trusted them both into your heart and they hurt you in the worst way possible," Zander says. "I'm sorry, Angel. That is a really shitty situation."
Exhaling heavily, I push my food around my plate, having lost my appetite the moment Gianna called and broke the news.
"Yeah. Makes the decision to stay here permanently all that much easier."
"I'm not going to complain about that," he says with a soft smile. "So, you think you're going to do what your friend said? Go to the wedding?"
"Would that be super childish of me?" I laugh.
"Perhaps, but it's what I think you should do."
"Really?" I ask in surprise.
His dark eyes bore into mine as he smiles. "Yeah. It would be bad ass."
I grin. "Will you be my plus one?"
"I'd be honoured."
Shaking my head, I force myself to eat some of the food on my plate.
"Are we really going to do this?" I ask him, feeling a little nervous, but also excited at the idea of it.
Zander offers me his lope-sided grin that I love so much.
"I'm game if you are."
--------------