Page 4 of Tight

Chapter One

Brittany

Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…

The blood rushing through my ears sounds so loud I'm sure anyone standing near me in the restaurant's lobby can hear it. Already two hours late for the party, I have a knot in my stomach that continues to grow, and that wonderful feeling called instinct warns me to turn around and go home.

But it's too late. Troy spotted me.

"Dammit, Britt, it's about time you got here. I've texted you like crazy," he says.

Troy Hanson—my boyfriend for the last eight months—rushes toward me, his hand instantly on my elbow as he leans in to kiss me. An entertainment lawyer with a prominent Manhattan law firm, he enjoys the New York City social scene and has an ego as inflated as his salary.

An ego that, after yesterday, I find unbearably irritating.

"I told you I had a deadline to meet and wasn't sure when I'd get here." I yank my arm from his grasp while he escorts me toward the back of the restaurant.

"It's your best friend's big thirty. You couldn't leave work at a decent time for once in your life to get here?"

"No, I couldn't. I had to finish my article and send it to Katherine. It's one of the featured stories for an upcoming publication. Besides, I told Lacey I'd probably be late to her party so she wouldn't be surprised." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, my blood pressure rising as I try to control my urge to unleash my wrath on him in the middle of the restaurant, but now is not the time—not yet.

"You arriving late a surprise? Not even," he sneers. "It's the norm for you since you can't seem to pull yourself away from your goddamn job."

I abruptly stop and turn to glare at him, a jumble of words ready to pour off my tongue.

"Hey, you!" a gravelly voice calls out from a group of party guests. "Brittany Walker. Damn, I haven't seen you in ages."

I turn, spotting Garrett Easton with a bunch of his friends. Handsome and moneyed, he was one of Lacey's many bedmates when we were in college. Although it's been seven years since we graduated, the guy has somehow managed to maintain his status as one of her occasional play toys.

"Easton. Nice to see you here. It's been a while." I take in his appearance, which is as sexy as ever.

"Walker. Same here. You look hot as always."

I smile at his brazen comment, no longer caring what Troy thinks as he yanks me away. "Sorry, gotta go," I shoot over my shoulder.

"What the fuck, Britt? I was standing right there," Troy says. By the look on his face, I can tell he's miffed.

"I noticed," I snap back, refusing to give a damn.

"Jesus. What the hell is up with you? You've acted like a bitch since you returned from your trip yesterday."

A bitch? That's an understatement. Although, I'm sure my attitude would be worse if I hadn't tempered it with a bottle of rum last night. I open my mouth to speak and then close it, struggling to keep my comments in check.Patience, Britt, patience. The lion will be released soon enough.

And there she is—the insatiable Lacey Adams—standing in the center of the room. She's the birthday girl and my best friend since junior high school, with a well-earned reputation as a party diva who frequently spreads her thighs. I was always the quiet and studious one in our group, focusing on academics and my job while continually shrugging a shoulder at her behavior.

Behavior that I can no longer ignore.

"There's my bestie! I wondered when you'd get here," Lacey yells from a few yards away. She latches onto my arm and then hugs me as I cringe in disgust, fighting the urge to step back. "Well, better late than never," she says happily before letting go of me.

"Yep, better late than never." I reach into my purse and pull out a beautifully wrapped three-by-three-inch box with a tiny gold bow. "Happy birthday. It's something special. I don't want you to open it until you're alone." I hand Lacey the box, trying my damnedest to suppress my anger, although I can feel my body become rigid.

"For me? That's so sweet. You always spoil me," she says, failing to notice the tightness in my voice. Looking pleased, she examines the box and carefully shakes it.

I stare at her in disgust.

Tall and shapely with silky red hair, Lacey is a woman who draws attention when she walks into a room. And she's an expert at making men hard with her lusciously pouting lips, seductive whispers, and flashing of her abundant cleavage alongwith a nipple now and then. None seem to be immune, and her handsome husband, with his chiseled features and dreamy blue eyes, turns a blind eye.

Aaron Adams—a corporate executive—rakes in the bucks and lavishes Lacey with her every desire. She gives him what he wants, what his body craves, and then she runs wild behind his back. If only he knew the details of some of her affairs.