Page 4 of Unleashed

Technically, I’m happy for them.

But seeing their newly wedded bliss jabs at a sore spot I will carry forever.

“I’m just so happy that after all this time they were able to find their way back to each other.” My mother sways with the music, hands stacked in the center of her chest like her heart is so bursting with love, she’s having to physically contain it within her chest.

“Me too.” It’s not a lie, but I would agree with her regardless. Now is not the time to start a conversation with my mother. Not unless I want her to start questioning why I’m not trying to find someone to build a pool for.

I drain my tumbler, in need of the alcohol as much as I am the excuse to change locations. I’m not stupid enough to believe Deidre Bradshaw’s going to be satisfied now that three out of five of us are paired off. She’s never been a woman who does anything halfway. I know she fully intends to finish the job she started. Unfortunately for her, I think she’s hit the end of the road, and is about to run into a brick wall.

Two brick walls.

I get to my feet, lifting my empty glass along with my brows. “Would you like me to get you something while I’m up?”

My mother doesn’t even look my way. She’s too busy giving all her attention to the bride and groom. “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

I walk behind her chair to avoid blocking her view, grateful when it seems like I’m going to be able to sneak away without being noticed. I know it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye to the guests of honor, but I’m pretty sure the last thing they care about is my lack of manners.

All they care about is starting a life together. A future that’s all promise and possibility.

Good for them.

I pass off my empty glass to the catering staff handling cleanup, then head for the hall bath to take a quick piss before heading home. It’s not a long drive, but it’s a bumpy one, and I don’t feel like adding any more misery to my plate right now.

The half-bath is occupied, door closed, fan running. Because of course it is. Since I’m ready to get the fuck out of here, I head for the stairs. Brotherly privilege should afford me the opportunity to use whatever bathroom I want, right?

The closest one on the second floor is attached to Brooke and Toby’s bedroom, and I’m just tipsy enough not to care about invading their personal space.

I bump my way into the bathroom, turning my nose up at the mess scattered across the vanity. Brooke has left all sorts of shit across the marble surface. Cluttering the space with curling irons and hairspray, she’s turned my brother’s formerly meticulously kept bathroom into a tornado of feminine destruction. And now he gets to put up with it for the next fifty years.

Damn, I’m a petty asshole. But I need something to tamp down the jealousy coursing through my veins.

I do what I came to do, tugging my tie loose with one hand as I go, and pulling it completely apart before washing my hands. For some reason—possibly bourbon—I’m hot as hell, and go to work stripping off my jacket before unbuttoning the shirt beneath it. No reason to sweat my ass off on the drive home.

I’m tugging the hem from the waistband of my pants when the door to the bathroom flies open.

Maren’s eyes widen on me before narrowing to slits. “I thought you left.”

I continue yanking at my shirt, my movements more aggressive with her sucking the air from the room. “Keeping tabs on me now?”

She snorts. “If I am, it’s only because I want to be sure no one’s about to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing.”

Fucking this again. Every goddammed time I cross Maren’s path, she’s bitching about the same fucking thing. And I’m sick of it.

I’m sick of everything.

“Fine.” I throw my arms wide. “If you want to take on every dangerous asshole who crosses your path, be my fucking guest.” Someone, somewhere must have told this woman she’s invincible, because every time I turn around, she’s putting herself in a dangerous position. First it was with Dead Dan, and most recently William Sheppard. “I’ll keep my mouth shut and whatever happens, happens.”

Maren laughs, the sound ominous as it fills the bathroom. In true Maren form, she steps toward me, finger out, ready to take on yet another man twice her size. “You couldn’t keep your mouth shut if your life depended on it, asshole.”

She’s not wrong. But I’m never one to back down from a fight, even when I know damn well I’m not on the winning side.

But this time I can win. Because this time we aren’t at work. There’s no one else watching, and no one else to judge the tactics I use.

Moving fast enough she doesn’t see it coming, I grab her face with one hand, holding her jaw as I crowd her space, sending her stepping back. I swing the door closed before she can escape, trapping her body between it and me.

But I don’t stop there. Pressing hard against her, I bring my face close to hers, using my grip to keep her attention on me. “Then maybe you should find another way to occupy it.”

This is a game between us. One we both stretch the limits of. Maybe not quite as much as I am now, but today has me feeling not quite as much myself. Not as in control. Not as focused.