32 - Rush (Breathless #1) Page 32

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what plans and to press her further. It was certainly within his right. But she looked so uncomfortable that he didn’t want to put her on the defensive, and he damn sure didn’t want her to lie to him. And she may well if he cornered her.

“I assume it’s only Friday night then?” he said in a short tone.

She nodded.

“Okay then, be at my apartment Saturday morning. You’ll spend the weekend with me and then we’ll leave Monday afternoon for Paris.”

Relief flashed in her eyes and she smiled that thousand-watt smile again.

“I can’t wait,” she said. “Paris sounds so exciting! Will we have a chance to see anything?”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Probably not, but we’ll see what happens.”

His phone rang and he checked his watch. Time had slipped away from him and it was time for his conference call. He waved his hand for Mia to go back to what she was doing, and then he got comfortable in his chair before answering the call.

Chapter twenty-five

“Tell Jace thank you for checking up on Brandon for me,” Caroline said as the two rode in a cab to Vibe. “It was really sweet of him. I feel horrible that I even let you do this for me, but after Ted, I just have this horrible, sick feeling every time I even look at a guy with interest, you know?”

Mia reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “It will get better, sweetie. And hey, from everything Jace reported, Brandon sounds like a hardworking, honorable guy. Most importantly, he’s single and he lives alone.”

Relief was evident in Caroline’s face and she twitched eagerly as they approached the club.

“Yeah, that helps a lot. I guess we’ll see what happens, huh?”

Mia smiled as the cab slowed. It was nine o’clock and she was tired after her day at work. She’d rather be with Gabe at his apartment, having a quiet dinner and whatever else he had in store for her. She hated that she’d effectively lied to him about what her plans were for the night. Not that she’d blatantly told an untruth, but she hadn’t been open with him. Somehow telling him she was going clubbing made her worry over his reaction. What if he told her no?

It wasn’t that she wouldn’t have gone anyway. Yes, they had a contractual agreement—God, she was tired of that word. She was getting to the point where she hated the very thought of that piece of paper she’d signed. Not because she regretted any part of her relationship with Gabe, but because of what that contract represented. Or rather what it didn’t represent.

She simply hadn’t wanted that confrontation with Gabe. She wasn’t out guy shopping tonight. She was going to have fun with her girls and spend time with them—time that had been a precious commodity ever since Gabe had taken over her life.

Yes, she could see why Caroline would be worried. If one of her friends had entered a relationship where she spent all her free time with the guy to the point of excluding everyone else in her life, Mia would be concerned about the relationship. She’d question whether it was healthy for one of her friends.

And maybe her relationship with Gabe wasn’t healthy. She knew damn well her emotional dependence on him wasn’t. She was headed for a serious fall, and when that happened, she’d need her friends more than ever, and that was why she couldn’t shut them out now.

But whatever this was between her and Gabe was what she wanted. She craved it. She wasn’t in denial of her circumstances. She had a very good idea of what was going to eventually happen. But she was going to enjoy every moment—savor every minute—until the time he set her free.

She’d survive. Or maybe that was the part she was in denial over. She wasn’t entirely certain she would survive when Gabe walked away.

“Hey, we’re here,” Caroline said. “Earth to Mia.”

Mia blinked and looked up to see Caroline already out of the cab. Mia dug into her pocket for the cash to pay the cabbie and then she scrambled out after Caroline.

Chessy, Trish and Gina were waiting outside the club in the Meatpacking District, and a long line had already formed down the block. They all ganged up on Mia, hugging and exclaiming over her. Mia laughingly fielded their affection and some of her anxiety eased. This would be fun. And an evening away from Gabe was probably a good thing. It was too easy to get caught up in the alternate universe he’d created for them. But this…this was real. These were her friends and this was her life.

It was time to cut loose and have some fun for the night.

Caroline herded them toward the VIP entrance and it was then that Mia got her first look at Brandon. He was a tall, heavily muscled man. Bald, with a goatee, a diamond earring flashed in his left lobe. As soon as his gaze lighted on Caroline, he lost the menacing, badass look of a bouncer, and he looked as though someone had just put a puppy in front of him.

He visibly melted, and if Mia had any reservations that this guy was genuinely interested in Caroline, they were gone.

He positioned himself between the line of people and the door and motioned for Caroline.

Mia and the others followed Caroline and Brandon reached into his pocket to pull out five VIP passes.

She couldn’t hear what Brandon said to Caroline over the street noises. He leaned in close to say something in Caroline’s ear. Whatever it was had Caroline suffused with color and her eyes danced with delight. He smiled gently at her and then motioned her and her friends through the entrance.

“He’s hot, Caro!” Chessy exclaimed when they got inside.

Gina and Trish were quick to agree even as they gazed around at the crowded club. Music pulsed and vibrated off the walls. The dance floor was huge—and packed. There was an electric look and feel to the place. Mostly dark but with neon underglow at the tables and the bar. Laser beams danced across the floor, bouncing off the moving, gyrating bodies.

“I vote we get totally hammered,” Trish said. “Good music, dancing, drinks and hopefully some hot guys.”

“I’m in,” Chessy declared.

“Me too,” Gina said.

They turned to look at Mia. “Bring it on,” she said.

They all whooped and then waded in to find the table Brandon had reserved for them.

Caroline tugged Mia back a step and then leaned in by her ear so Mia could hear her.

“I’m going home with Brandon afterward. Is that okay? Will you be okay getting back to the apartment by yourself? He said he’ll get a cab for you.”

Mia’s eyebrows rose. “You sure, Caro?”

Caro nodded. “We’ve been talking for a while now. I’m not even saying we’re going to sleep together. Our work schedules are completely opposite, so we haven’t been able to hook up until now.”

“Then go. Just be careful, okay?”

Caroline smiled and nodded.

They found their table, ordered drinks and waited. The frenetic beat of the music invaded Mia’s body and she found herself wiggling in time as they stood by their table. Chessy joined in and soon the girls had their own section of the dance floor right at their table.

Before their waitress arrived with their drinks, two guys came over, their smiles charming, and began talking to Chessy and Trish. Mia purposely stayed to the back of the table where it abutted the rail overlooking the dance floor. In no way did she want to advertise she was looking, and she didn’t want to have to deal with any awkward brush-offs. Instead, she turned to face the floor and bopped along with the music.

A few minutes later, their drinks were delivered and the two guys had disappeared. They collected their glasses from the tray and then Caroline held hers up in a toast.

“Here’s to an awesome night!” she yelled.

They clinked glasses, and the drinking began.

Mia paced herself. She didn’t have the tolerance for alcohol that her friends had. They bounced back and forth between the dance floor and their table, and their waitress kept a steady supply of drinks delivered to them.

By midnight, Mia was feeling the effects of the alcohol, and she slowed her intake while the others continued to whoop it up. Chessy had hooked up with a guy who stuck to her like glue the entire night. Where she went, he went, and he made certain the girls had what they wanted.

Brandon came by after a while to check in on them and he spoke to Caroline for a few minutes to the side. When he left, Caroline’s smile was huge and her eyes sparkled. She was excited—flush with the newness of a potential relationship when everything was shiny and exhilarating. Mia was happy for her. Caro deserved happiness after her last relationship. Maybe Brandon would be the one.

By two in the morning, Mia was ready to drop, and she was more than a little intoxicated. Since Caroline was riding home with Brandon, Mia saw no reason for her to stay any longer. She pulled Caroline to the side and told her she was heading home. Chessy and the others were still on the dance floor, but they’d all hooked up for the night and were occupied with their respective guys. They wouldn’t miss Mia.

“Let me get Brandon and we’ll walk you out to a cab,” Caroline said above the music.

Mia nodded and waited as Caroline ducked away. A moment later, she returned with Brandon in tow and Mia followed them out of the club. Brandon motioned for one of the taxis that was parked at the corner and then opened the door for Mia to get in.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Caroline said as she leaned down into the backseat.

“Be careful and have fun,” Mia said.

Caroline grinned and shut the door.

Mia gave her address to the driver and then leaned back in the seat. She still had a major buzz going even though she’d stopped drinking almost an hour before. Her phone went off and she frowned. It was past two o’clock. Who the hell would be texting her at this hour?

She pulled her phone from her pocket where it had lain forgotten all night, and winced when she saw she had over a dozen missed calls. All from Gabe. And then there were the texts. The last one had just been sent a few seconds ago.

Where the fuck are you?

While there was no way to discern tone from a text, she could positively see Gabe bristling with anger. There were several other texts, all demanding to know where she was and how she was getting home.

Shit. Should she call him? It was awfully damn late—or early—but he was obviously up and he was obviously pissed or worried or both—at her.

She’d wait until she got home and then text him back. At least then she could say she was at her apartment.

It took far less time to get home, as traffic wasn’t a factor at this hour of the morning. It wasn’t long until the cab pulled up to her building. She paid him and then got out, bobbling a bit as she got her legs underneath her.

The cab pulled away and she started toward the door to her building when she saw him.

Her breath caught in her chest and her pulse accelerated until the alcohol in her stomach swirled, making her queasy.

Gabe was standing outside the door of her building, and he looked pissed. He strode rapidly toward her, his expression dark and those eyes glittering dangerously.

“It’s about goddamn time,” he bit out. “Where the hell have you been? And why the hell didn’t you answer my calls or my texts? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

She weaved unsteadily and he cursed, grabbing her arm to keep her from falling.

“You’re shitfaced,” he said grimly.

She shook her head, still not having found her voice. “N-no,” she finally managed to stammer out.

“Yes,” he said.

He propelled her inside as the doorman opened the door and hustled her toward the elevator. He took the key she was holding in her hand, and pried it from her fingers as they entered and he punched the button for her floor.

“Can you even walk?” he asked, his gaze flicking over her like a whip.

She nodded, although she wasn’t so sure now. Her knees were shaking and more and more she felt the urge to vomit. Her face paled and sweat broke out on her forehead.

Gabe cursed again as the elevator doors opened. He grabbed her hand and then pulled her into his side, supporting her as they walked to her door. He jammed the key into the lock, opened the door and then swept her inside. He slammed the door and then rushed her into the bathroom.

Not a moment too soon.

Her stomach rebelled and she leaned over the toilet just in time.

Gabe gathered her hair in his hands and pulled it back, holding it away from her face. Then he slid one hand up and down her back in a soothing, calming manner.

He didn’t say a word—a fact she was grateful for—while she released the contents of her stomach. When the retching finally eased, he left her only long enough to dampen a washcloth in the sink and then he returned, wiping gently at her face and forehead.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “You know you can’t tolerate alcohol that well.”

She sagged and leaned her forehead onto his chest, closing her eyes as she sucked in deep breaths. All she wanted was to lie down. Even after puking so much, she was still way impaired. And she wasn’t certain why. She hadn’t drunk that much. Had she?

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