Once We Met, page 24
part #1 of A Brandywood Small Town Romance Series
How in the hell am I going to fix this?
Chapter Thirty-One
Avery
9 Months Ago
* * *
Avery signed the paperwork as the movers unloaded the last of her boxes into Bryan’s living room. She’d intended to bring more of her furniture and hired them a few weeks earlier, but she’d ended up selling most of her stuff. Bryan had suggested they put the money toward the wedding since he already had furniture.
The movers left, and Avery closed the door, turning back toward the living room. Bryan would be home soon from work, and she wanted to surprise him with dinner.
Wading past the boxes, she went into the kitchen and opened the cooler she’d packed from her own place. She unpacked what she could into the fridge, even though there wasn’t much space, then took out the ingredients to make shrimp alfredo and a salad.
The door opened, and Bryan’s keys jingled as he set them in the glass dish he had for them on the entryway console. Avery stepped out of the kitchen with a smile. “Hey, babe.”
Bryan stood at the front door, staring at the stacks of boxes. “Wow. I like what you’ve done with the place.” He grimaced at the mess.
She laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “Don’t worry, I’ll have it all unpacked by tomorrow. Besides”—she came over and slung her arms around his neck—“I just figured we could pretend the boxes were like the rock formations at Arches National Park and have celebration sex in the great, wild outdoors of the living room tonight.”
Bryan returned her kiss with a skeptic look. “I think I’ll pass on that one,” he said with a chuckle. “We might get buried in a landslide.”
She returned to the kitchen to finish dinner, a nervous feeling simmering in her stomach. They were so different in the way they inhabited spaces, which made Avery sometimes worry that she wouldn’t be able to live up to his expectations. Moving in together had been his idea. He didn’t think it made sense for them both to be paying rent when they were going to be getting married in nine months.
“Hey, I called the owner of the Serendipity today. He’s going to reserve the place for our wedding next summer.”
Bryan came into the kitchen, his necktie hanging over one shoulder, and unbuttoned his collar. “You sure I can’t convince you to jump in that car? I’ll whisk you away to Vegas, and we can be married within a few hours.”
She enjoyed seeing the more spontaneous side of him occasionally. Grinning, she stirred the alfredo sauce as she squeezed some lemon juice into it. “Nope. The Serendipity is where my dream wedding happens. Nine months will go by so fast, you’ll see.”
“Tell that to a pregnant woman,” Bryan replied wryly. “You should hear the OB doctors talk about it.”
They ate dinner, and Bryan went to bed shortly afterward, leaving Avery in the living room to unpack.
Around midnight, Avery arched her back, stretching out the lower part of her spine. She’d been hunched over for hours. It was definitely time to get some rest, and she’d attack the rest of this tomorrow.
Avery got ready for bed quietly, then crept toward Bryan’s room—their room now. She tiptoed into the room, then pushed aside the covers, slipping into bed beside him. He was asleep, but she couldn’t resist the urge to reach over and cuddle with him. She should have gone to bed earlier with him. This was the first night together in their home, after all.
Bryan roused sleepily, then stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“Just thought you might want to snuggle.” She kissed his earlobe playfully. “Or something else.”
Bryan checked his cell phone. “Avery . . . it’s after midnight. I have to get up in four hours.”
“I just—”
“If you’re going to come to bed so late, please try not to wake me up. It’s rude, and I have to be rested for my job.” Bryan lay back down, then rolled over, his back toward her.
She winced, her heart beating harder and painfully. And though she had been inconsiderate, a tear formed in her eye and slipped out onto her cheek. She brushed it away, then turned her back to Bryan. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Bryan shifted again, then sat up. Flipping the light on, he tried to turn her to face him. She pushed back, not wanting to look at him, but he forced her anyway, and she lay on her back, her head on the pillow. “Come on, babe. Don’t cry. I was up waiting for you to come to bed for a while for a really long time. I guess I was just disappointed you didn’t come in earlier.” He wiped tears from her cheeks, leaned over her, and kissed her.
She didn’t feel like kissing him.
But as the kiss continued, she forced herself to relax. He may not have been nice, but he was trying to make up for it. And even though hadn’t really apologized, he was obviously sorry.
This will be a transition, Avery. It’s been a while since you’ve lived with someone. You’ll just have to learn to adjust again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Now
* * *
Bryan’s hand rested against Avery’s hip, and she snuggled closer to him sleepily in the dark.
Oh, hello there . . .
It’d been a long time since they’d had middle-of-the-night, half-awake sex, but he was clearly hard, and she pushed herself against him, the tantalizing feeling of his nearness instantly making her wet.
She rubbed her ass against his length, and his hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts. She murmured in response.
Rubbing back and forth, she felt him harden further still, his fingers dipping lower, then lower still, then stalled. “Please . . .”
Then he parted her with his fingers, pushing one deep inside her as she arched back against him. His other hand came up under her shirt, cupping one breast, then stroking and pinching her nipples as she rocked back against him rhythmically.
“Oh, God . . .” One finger, then two, deep inside her, pushing in and out. He used the tip of his forefinger to rub against the tender spot between her legs, making her hotter, wetter, pulsing against his fingertips. She pushed against him, the soles of her feet flexing against his legs.
His breath was on her neck. “God . . . you’re so fucking wet.”
She froze, drawing in a sharp breath at the voice.
Not Bryan.
She awakened fully and stilled. “Dan!”
The bed. The snake. The . . . oh God, what the hell did I just do?
Scrambling from the bed, she flopped onto the floor, pulling the sheet with her.
The light flipped on, and Dan was on his feet, staring at her.
She was still panting, panties still soaked, her body still craving him.
No, not him. Bryan. Right?
She’d been sure it was Bryan, wasn’t she?
“What just happened?” She stared at him, horrified with herself.
He shook his head, obviously just as addled by sleep as she’d been. “I don’t know. You woke me up!”
She covered her face. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I thought you were—”
He sucked in a breath, and her gaze snapped up.
Somehow, I just made it worse.
“You thought I was your fiancé?” His face darkened.
“I-I don’t know. I mean, I was half-asleep. I just . . . felt you there, and I assumed, and I . . . you didn’t seriously think I was waking you up for sex, did you?”
“I was . . .” Dan shook his head. “Don’t turn this around on me. I actually was asleep. You were up against me. I’m a man, Avery, and we get turned on when there’s a beautiful woman within our grasp.”
Avery hugged her arms to her chest. He thinks I’m beautiful? The worst thing? Right now, she wasn’t thinking about Bryan. I want to fuck Dan. I want to be dragged back to bed to finish what we started. Stop, Avery.
Things with Bryan had never been that hot. He didn’t like being woken up. She should have known it wasn’t Bryan. When was the last time we had sex?
After taking a deep breath, she pressed her hands against her burning cheeks, then sat back down on the mattress. “I am so sorry. I’m not trying to blur the lines of consent here. I truly was just . . .”
“No, it’s fine. I apologize, Avery. It won’t happen again.”
She wrapped the sheet over her legs. “You don’t have to apologize, Dan. Like you said, I’m the one who woke you.”
Being up in the middle of the night had a way of making her tiredness feel heavier and her brain thick and soupy. “I just cheated on my fiancé,” she said in a flat voice, staring at her hands. “Oh, fuck. I detest cheaters, and now I’m one of them.”
Dan shrugged. “Avery, you didn’t cheat on your fiancé, okay? Stop beating yourself up over it.” He reached over and plucked the pillow from the side where he’d been sleeping. “But it’s probably a better idea if I sleep on the floor for the rest of the night.” He grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and laid it out, then put the pillow down on it. He turned the light back off, leaving them in darkness.
Avery crawled back onto the mattress and lay on her back.
It counts. You just cheated on Bryan. He’d count it for sure.
The absolute worst part? She was now so horny, but there was no way she could do anything with Dan in the room. Even though I desperately need the release. When was my last orgasm?
No, she couldn’t think like that.
In eight days, she was marrying the man she loved.
She let out a discontented grunt and squeezed her eyes shut. This was all going to be interesting in the morning.
The smell of coffee woke Avery, and she roused, blinking at the streams of light coming in through the window. She whirled around, checking the room for signs of Dan, but he was gone.
His pillow was still on the floor, though.
Shit. Shit. Shittitty shit.
She got to her feet and scanned the room. Her clothes were still upstairs in the bedroom she’d abandoned, where she should have spent the night on the floor, snake or no snake.
Turns out you had a snake in the bed after all.
She gritted her teeth, angry with her inner voice. Come on! Jokes, right now?
First thing this morning, she was going to call Bryan and confess. Tell him all about it.
He had a right to know what had happened. The whole truth.
Her engagement ring seemed to sparkle in response.
“I’m a terrible person,” she whispered.
She rubbed her eyes, swept her hair back into a ponytail, then left the room, creeping silently up the stairs. She’d almost made it to the room, when Peyton stepped out into the hallway, fully dressed for the day.
“Good morning!” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I checked the room. No snakes this morning. You sleep okay after all that excitement? Probably a lot more comfortable in an actual bed than on the floor any—”
Fantastic. Someone else who knows. She stared him down. “You cannot tell anyone about that, Peyton.”
His brows drew together. “I wasn’t plan—”
“Not a soul.”
Peyton drew his thumb and forefinger across his lips like he was zipping them shut. “Got it, Miss Avery.”
“You can just call me Avery. I’m not your schoolmarm.”
Peyton chuckled and shook his head. “No wonder he likes you so much. You’re like a torn shoe and a crooked foot.”
“Like a what?”
“You know. A perfect match.” Peyton beamed, then continued downstairs, whistling as he went.
A perfect match? Right. What was an apt comparison to two things attracted to but horrible for each other?
She hurried into the room and dressed, grateful that Peyton had checked it for snakes, despite his comments about Dan.
She still had a week of being around Dan before she was supposed to get married. Five days before Bryan was supposed to get into town.
Finding her cell phone among the clothing she’d tossed on the floor when she’d thrown her suitcase at the snake, she checked for notifications. Thankfully, now that she was doing a better job of texting Bryan in the mornings and evenings, he had calmed down. It had helped that Dan had gotten Wi-Fi, and she could contact Bryan more easily now.
Avery closed the door to the room, staring at Bryan’s phone number.
Hey babe, it’s me. Yeah, you know, the new owner of the Serendipity? Turns out I have unresolved feelings for him. And I almost fucked him last night. Totally accidentally. I shouldn’t have been there, of course, but I ignored my better judgment. But I’m telling you now, so that makes it all better, right?
If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t forgive Bryan for it.
You don’t almost “accidentally” fuck someone.
Because deep down, she knew she’d let the whole thing happen. She’d crawled into that bed with him knowing full well how things could end up.
Be honest.
Twelve years ago, she’d done a lot of lying, too. Because of Dan.
He had a way of bringing out both the best and worst in her.
She dialed Erika through a messaging app to circumvent the service issue. Erika picked up on the second ring.
“Hey. You all awake yet?”
Erika sounded groggy. “I am. Dan’s nieces and nephews all arrived, like, a half-hour ago, and there are a lot of them. It’s as if a preschool came over.”
“You need to get over here.” Avery started folding her clothes and putting them back in the suitcase.
“Why?” Erika’s voice was instantly more alert.
“Because I really, really messed up.” She shoved the rest of her clothes in without folding them and zipped up the case.
A soft shuffling sound came from the other end of the line, along with Erika’s breathing. A minute later, Avery heard a door closing. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“Not exactly.” She cleared her throat, then sat on the folding chair. “I almost slept with him. There was a snake in my sleeping bag, and I got scared, so I ended up sharing the bed with him—”
“As one does with a person they’re extremely attracted to and once had a sexual relationship with.” Erika groaned. “Continue.”
“So, in the middle of the night, I woke up, and he was hard, and I was half-asleep and disoriented and assumed I was with Bryan—”
“Is that really the excuse we’re going with here?” The disbelief dripped from her voice.
“Yeah, well, it’s true. Haven’t you ever—”
“No, I rarely wake up in a bed without realizing I’m with an ex instead of my boyfriend.”
“All right, well, that’s beside the point. I realized it was him before it got as far as actual sex. But Erika, what the hell am I supposed to do? I started thinking about it and realized that even if I’m not supposed to be with Bryan because of this curse thing—”
“God, please tell me we are not back to that again.” Erika let out a long sigh. “Avery, do you want to marry Bryan or not? Because that’s really what this comes down to. He’s a person, you know. Not just a disposable peg in the game of Curse of the Three Fiancés.”
“I know that.” Avery leaned back, her eyes sweeping the room for any sign of another snake.
“Do you, though? Because you want to know what I think? Bryan is a control freak. I think you shouldn’t marry him. I think you’re wondering if you should marry Dan, which is preposterous. And I think you know that, but you’re purposely considering someone who is a terrible choice for you because you naturally gravitate toward men who are terrible choices for you. Then when things blow up in your face, you get to blame it on this family curse rather than take responsibility for the fact that you made a horrible choice in the first place.”
Avery felt as though Erika had reached across the phone and punched her in the face. She stared at the phone, the smiling picture of her best friend in the contact profile picture. She thinks Bryan is a controlling asshole and that I shouldn’t marry him? What?
Nausea rose in Avery’s stomach, up to her throat.
Then she hung up the phone.
What the fuck?
Her esophagus felt as if she had swallowed a hot lump of coal and it was slowly burning its way down.
Erika had hinted more than once that she thought Bryan was controlling, but she’d never been so mean about it. But if she truly felt that way, why go to so much trouble to help her get the wedding venue ready? Why bother to show up here at all? And if Erika really thought marrying Bryan was such a mistake, why hadn’t she flat-out told her that? And why mention marrying Dan in that spiel, too? I almost went too far with the man, not suggest I thought I should marry him.
As she stared at her ring again, she blinked hard.
The family curse.
Was she spiraling headlong into inevitable fate?
She’d been fighting all the disasters of the week, thinking she could change the outcome.
But what if . . . what if she was wrong?
Mom hadn’t married the two other men she’d been engaged to because she was convinced Dad was her true fated match. And look how well that had turned out for Mom. He’d cheated on her, left her for a younger woman, then started a new family. The “love of Mom’s life” had turned her into a resentful person who couldn’t get over having a husband who had betrayed her that way.
Once, Mom had confessed to Avery that Tina hadn’t been Dad’s first affair either. That she’d suspected over the years he’d had multiple, quieter affairs, and that had been the reason she’d started working at Dad’s practice. To control things. Eventually, Mom’s need to control things had spilled into Avery’s life. She couldn’t have the perfect husband, so she was determined to have the perfect daughter.
And for a while, it had worked. It was easy enough for Mom to do it with Avery because it was like a Pavlovian response—Avery got her mom’s approval and praise whenever she did things Mom wanted her to do. And that felt good. So Avery had, for eighteen years, done everything she could to make Mom happy, frequently choosing Mom’s happiness above what she wanted for herself.
