Until Fountain Bridge: (InterMix) (6 page)

Adam was in the middle of telling me about the Skype chat he’d had with his mum a week prior, and his parents’ plans to return to the UK for a few weeks in April, when I stretched my arms up, pretending to need to crack my back. The movement pulled the hemline of my top up, baring my flat stomach, and it also pushed my breasts out. When I brought my head back down and relaxed, Adam had stopped talking and I could see a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Ellie, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, his voice quiet.

Although my face burned with the possibility of rejection I shrugged nonchalantly. “Stretching.”

His gaze drifted down my body and I watched his own tense. “You know what I’m talking about. The touching, the flirting, the stretching . . .”

With my heart pounding, I shifted closer to him on the couch until my knees touched his outer thigh. I licked my lips, nervous but completely turned on just by the mere thought of him touching me back. “I think you know,” I whispered.

Our eyes met and locked. The air thickened between us. Adam swallowed hard. “Ellie,” he whispered.

Holding his gaze, I reached a trembling hand out and placed it on his thigh and slowly I moved it up, caressing him. I had almost reached the heat of his crotch where, to my utter satisfaction and delight, I watched his erection strain against his zipper, when his strong hand grabbed mine tightly.

I’d barely let out a surprised gasp when he tugged on my wrist, yanking me against him. I collapsed on him and he used my momentary disorientation to his advantage. He gripped the nape of my neck and slammed my mouth hungrily down on his.

I melted against him.

My fingers sank into his hair, and I rearranged my legs so I was straddling his lap. My body sank into his. My mouth sank into his.

It was everything and more than I’d always imagined.

My skin burned and my nerve endings sparked and I was tingling all over. Adam tasted of wine and heat and . . . home. I purred into Adam’s mouth, and his arms tightened around my waist, somehow drawing me even closer. The kiss shifted from passionate to dirty in a nanosecond. It was suddenly biting and wet, our tongues tangling and licking and learning every inch of each other’s mouth.

It wasn’t close enough.

Everything was lost in a fog of sexual chemistry so electric I would never again doubt romance novels. I felt his rough hands on my ankles, coasting along the skin of my calves, and up the back of my thighs as he drew my skirt free of our tangle and bunched it around my waist. Those hands of his caressed my bottom, giving me a squeeze that sent a streak of heat down my spine and made me gasp.

Adam groaned and put pressure on my hips. He pushed me down on his lap so his hard-on rubbed me directly between my legs—nothing between us but denim and the thin cotton of my underwear. I sought the delicious friction, riding him until our mouths parted in brief increments to catch our breaths.

I needed him closer; needed him inside of me.

I sank down on him and dug my fingers into his shoulders as I rubbed harder.

Adam growled and broke away from me to tug my top off. I raised my arms, our movements hurried and frantic as he divested me of my top and then my bra. He cupped my breasts in his hands and I arched my back into his touch.

“So perfect,” he murmured hoarsely. “So fucking perfect.” He took my nipple in his hot mouth and I cried out at the rush of pleasure that coursed through me, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm.

My being so turned on seemed to fire Adam up. I cried out and found myself flat on my back on the length of the couch and watched through hazy, lust-blurred vision as Adam whipped off his shirt and pulled down my skirt and panties. The muscles of his ripped abs flexed deliciously and I felt a rush of wetness between my legs.

He was so goddamned beautiful it wasn’t fair.

Our lips met again as he braced himself over me, my hard nipples brushing his naked chest, my legs spread to fit him between them. He still wore his jeans, and the coarseness of the denim was sensual torture against my naked skin.

As our kisses grew even more desperate, I sought what I wanted from him. My fingers undid the button and zipper on his jeans. I tugged at his boxers, my hand sliding inside to grasp him and pull him out. He was throbbing and hot and hard and I couldn’t believe this was actually finally happening. Now I knew
everything
about him.

“Fuck,” he groaned against my mouth, his hips thrusting as I pressed the mushroomed head of him against my clit. I let go of him to grasp his lower back, tilting my own hips up as he teased me. He kissed me again, hard, and I felt his erection slide down . . .

I spread my thighs wider and smoothed my hands down his muscular back to push his jeans further down. I grasped his buttocks and pulled him to me. “Adam, please,” I begged. “Adam . . .”

He froze. Instantly. His name on my lips bringing him out of the magical sexual fog.

Our eyes met as he pulled his head up, his body hovering over mine, his muscles trembling with tension. While I imagined my expression was one of confusion, Adam’s was one of horror.

It was a look that made me want to crawl inside of myself.

It hurt like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

He scrambled off of me, pulled his boxers and jeans up, and tossed my skirt to cover up my nakedness. “Ellie, we can’t.” He shook his head and practically jumped off the couch, grabbing his T-shirt and yanking it back on.

I was feeling a mixture of things—confusion, hurt, sexual frustration—and so I was slow in sitting up.

“For fuck’s sake, Ellie, get dressed,” Adam snapped harshly.

It took everything within me not to flinch—not to cry.

As I pulled on my clothes with trembling hands, Adam exhaled. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .” his voice was heavy with regret.

I didn’t say anything. I just straightened my clothes and reached for my Uggs, trying to hold myself together. I couldn’t fall apart in front of him. I just couldn’t.

“Ellie?”

Finally I looked at him as I stood. He seemed almost as heartbroken as I felt. It was a small kind of consolation.

“Ellie, your Braden’s wee sister. I can’t . . . We can’t . . . ” he gestured helplessly to the couch before running a hand through his hair.

And that’s when I realized something absolutely tragic. While I thought what was happening was something borne out of affection, attraction, and—yes—love, to Adam what had almost happened was something borne out of lust. He didn’t want to make love to me. He wanted to screw me.

Pain lodged itself in my throat and I knew I was five seconds from bursting into a big, fat, hopeless, teary wreck. I spun away from him and rounded the back of the couch, my long hair covering my face as I grabbed at my jacket and headed to the door.

“Ellie!” Adam called out in panic, but I was already yanking his front door open. “Ellie. Fuck!” I heard him curse as I slammed the door shut behind me and bolted down the stairwell, knowing the lift might not arrive in time for me to make my quick escape.

The tears were pouring down my cheeks as I raced down the stairs, trying to hold in the gusty sobs that were ready to blow.

“Ellie, please!” Adam was suddenly in the stairwell, his footsteps pounding hard behind me.

I ran faster, ignoring his shouts for me to come back and talk to him.

By the time he made it out of the building, I was already racing across the street toward a bus that was about to pull away. I got on it and the doors closed behind me. I sagged down onto a seat in relief and glanced absentmindedly at the route number.

I didn’t care where it was going as long as it took me far, far away from the biggest mistake I’d ever made.

***

There had been a few times in my teen years I’d cried myself to sleep. A couple of those times had been over Adam. But when I was a teenager, like most teenagers, anything remotely negative seemed like the complete and total end of the world. Thankfully, that flair for the dramatic usually disappears as you enter adulthood. It did for me, anyway. So when I say I sobbed myself to sleep that night, it was without a sense of faux melodrama. The pain inside of me was real. It was genuine. It was raw.

For a good eight hours, I believed that not only had I been given absolute proof that Adam Sutherland didn’t love me the way that I loved him, I also believed that I’d ruined us and destroyed one of my favorite things in the whole world: my friendship with him.

I barely slept and woke up early to make myself tea, alone in my big flat and puffy-faced, wearing mismatched socks.

A pounding on the front door made me jump and sent hot tea over the rim of my mug and onto my lap. I bit back a curse and placed the mug carefully on the coffee table. I walked out of the room and into the darkened hall.

“Ellie, open up!” Adam shouted through the thick wood. “Ellie!”

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to somehow fix things and rewind the clock, but I knew that if I let him inside the flat he’d take one look at my face and realize that I, Ellie Nichols Carmichael, was completely and utterly in love with him and that the previous night had devastated me.

So I didn’t open the door. I leaned against the wall in my hallway and slid down until I was sitting on the cold hardwood floor. I listened as Adam pounded on my door and called my name. I listened as the phone rang in my bedroom. I listened as Adam left a message on it. I listened as he cursed and walked away . . .

When I woke up I was curled up on the cold floor. I blinked, trying to get my bearings and as I did, everything came flooding back. I didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, because I realized what had woken me up was my phone ringing. I got to my feet with a groan, my back and neck hurting from my awkward sleeping position, and I ran into my room to pick it up. According to the display on my phone, I’d been asleep for just over two hours.

My stomach flipped at the sight of the picture of Adam on my phone. I sucked in a deep breath and answered it.

“Ellie, thank fuck,” he exhaled in relief and I could just imagine him tugging at his hair in anxiety. “I came by earlier.”

“I was sleeping. I had more wine last night, so I was kind of dead to the world,” I lied.

“Els, I don’t even know where to start. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

“Adam—”

“I can’t lose you, Els. I can’t believe I fucked up like this but you have to forgive me. I can’t lose you.”

When he said stuff like that it made it hard to hate him. Worse, it made it harder to get over him. But I knew from now on that I really needed to try—and not just say that I was going to try. I
had
to try. I couldn’t live my life pining after him. So I made my decision to do just that. “Adam, it’s okay,” I promised him softly. “It was a mistake. We got carried away in the moment. And I’m sorry for running out on you. I was just embarrassed, that’s all.”

I heard his heartfelt sigh of relief and attempted to force the sting of tears out of my nose. “Els, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, okay.”

“Okay.”

“So . . .” his voice grew even quieter. “We’re good. We’re still us?”

“We’re still us,” I managed, blinking back tears.

“I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

“There won’t be. I won’t let there be if you won’t.”

“Good, sweetheart. Good. We’ll just forget this. It didn’t mean anything.”

I choked back the pain. “Right. It didn’t mean anything.”

Chapter 6

“It’s like a car crash . . . ” Adam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he passed me back the diary. “It’s painful reading this from your perspective, but I can’t look away.” He pointed to another diary. “I want to know more.”

Not liking the strain etched into his features, I shook my head. “Adam, we’re past all this. I didn’t mean for this to be painful. I just thought . . . well now that I have you, I can take a step back and look at the pieces of our history without it hurting. And you know me.” I shrugged. “The angst of it all seems romantic.” Then I frowned. “But you’re obviously not taking it that way, so I’m going to put these away.”

He clamped a large hand down on mine as I moved to pick up another journal. I glanced up at him and he shook his head with a small smile. “It’s painful to read how my stupidity hurt you at the time, but I like being inside your head. I like knowing that while I was struggling with the fact that I had fallen in love with my best friend’s little sister, she loved me back more than I could ever hope to deserve.”

I grinned at him. “One: You deserve it. And two,” I gestured to the diaries, to the story of us, “It
is
totally romantic, right?”

Adam laughed at my single-minded determination to turn us into a romance novel. “Maybe. But don’t tell anyone I said so. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

I sorted through the books, looking for the familiar purple leather cover of the last one. “Baby, you ruined that reputation when you told Braden Carmichael you were in love with me.”

“Cocky bastard knew all along,” Adam muttered unhappily. “Could have saved us a couple of months of worry.”

I found the diary and paged through it. “You mean, a couple of months of you being a mercurial pain in my arse?”

“Such a nice way to put it. But let’s not forget I wasn’t the only pain in the arse.”

“All I did was start dating again, and it took me ten months to do it after our little couch scene. You got off easy.” I thrust the diary at him and he took it with a scowl.

“I was staking my claim.”

“No, you were marking your territory without
actually
staking a claim.”

He chuckled and focused on the last page without responding. We both knew I was bloody right.

Sunday, August 13th

I haven’t had time to write anything down for a few days, partly because of studies and partly because my seething anger has been taking up quite a lot of my time. It all started on Friday afternoon when a casual conversation with Nicholas ended in me wanting to strangle Adam . . .

As Joss and I walked toward The Meadows where we were meeting Braden, Adam, Jenna, and Ed for a picnic, I considered telling her what I’d discovered about Adam yesterday while I was having coffee with my fellow student and friend, Nicholas. I hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her yet because she’d been working at Club 39. I knew Joss would be pissed off on my behalf. I needed that fire—that motivation—to put Adam at a distance and see how he liked it.

It had taken Adam and me several months to get past the awkwardness of almost having sex, and even then, things weren’t the same. The truth was that things hadn’t been the same for a long time, probably since the lip brush incidence when I was nineteen.

It was obvious that Adam had slept with other girls since he’d had me on his couch, and it hurt worse than I could ever explain. The whole incident made it difficult for me to move on. I hadn’t been on a single date in ten months.

That was all about to change, however. After making a crack to Nicholas about my dry spell, he’d told me maybe I’d have better luck getting a date if my friend Adam would stop going around intimidating men who might want to date me. Surprised and a little confused by this comment, I’d asked him to elaborate only to discover that Nicholas had wanted to ask me out months ago. Knowing how close I was to Braden and Adam, but thinking that Adam was the safer choice, Nicholas had called Adam and asked him for advice on where to take me out. Adam’s response had been, “Stay away from Ellie or I’ll break your face.”

What the hell was that?

Seriously?

I couldn’t even begin to process how not cool that was. I never knew that Adam had been warning perfectly nice guys to stay away from me.
He was allowed to manwhore his way through Edinburgh, but I wasn’t allowed to go on a single date?
I didn’t think so.

I wanted to tell Joss all about that. Despite being incredibly secretive about her past, Joss had proven herself to be a straightforward friend. I needed her to tell me if it was okay or not to play a little dirty with Adam. Honestly, I was just so tired of being the nice girl that he could just walk all over, knowing I’d still love him in the end. His actions had proven that he could be possessive of me, which meant he thought of me as “his” in some small way. I wanted to show him that I
wasn’t
his, that I would never be his unless he decided he wanted more than a one-night stand.

All this I wanted to confide in Joss that sunny Saturday as we strolled to The Meadows but Joss was distracted by something so I decided it wasn’t a good time. I was curious whether Joss’s distraction had something to do with Braden. She’d been acting strangely around him, strangely enough for even me to notice during the aftermath of one of my headaches. We’d been book shopping with Hannah when it happened. The headache hit me out of the blue like it had been doing for the last couple of months. It was horrible and usually accompanied by tingling and numbness in my arm. When it passed I was exhausted. In fact, lately my energy levels hadn’t been great. I kept meaning to go to the doctor but every time I got this ominous churning in my gut, and I put it off, promising myself I’d make an appointment the next day.

Anyway, the headache hit and Joss was concerned—she didn’t fool me with her ‘I don’t care about people’ rubbish—and taking me to get some food in me. We bumped into Braden and Vicky. While I was pissed off that Braden had slept with her again and brought her back into our lives (and Adam’s orbit), I still noticed the tension between Joss and Braden. Admittedly, when they’d first met, I’d had hopes of playing matchmaker, but recent revelations had spoiled those intentions. However, Braden still asked an awful lot of questions about Joss and he stared at her (a lot). I was beginning to suspect that despite denials from both of them, something was going on. I didn’t know how to feel about that now that I knew Joss wasn’t keen on being in a relationship. It was difficult to pin down her true feelings about anything and I didn’t want either Braden or her to get hurt.

Deciding to bite my tongue about a lot of things, I kept my conversation with Joss light and cheerful as we approached our friends in the park. Braden, Adam, Jenna, and Ed were there, sitting on a large chenille blanket with two picnic baskets beside them. My eyes immediately went to Adam and then quickly moved to Braden when I discovered Adam was watching me.

I laughed as Joss teased Braden upon our arrival, something not many people outside of our family dared to do. I think that secretly my big brother did too. Without thinking about it, I flopped down onto the blanket beside Adam. His strong arm came around me instantly and he squeezed me affectionately against his side. “Nice to see you, Els.”

The whole point of the picnic was to catch up with Adam and Braden. Since they’d been working so hard on the new development, we’d barely seen them at all. I missed them both, but I missed Adam in particular. Inhaling the familiar smell of him and feeling his strength pressed against my right side, I almost forgot for a moment my earlier resolve.
Almost.

“Yeah, you too.” I gave him a half-hearted smile and pulled casually out of his embrace. I turned to Jenna and Ed to greet them properly, ignoring the sudden tension radiating from Adam. He knew me too well, and he immediately understood something was wrong.

Good.

I saw Joss reading a text message and overheard her telling Braden that she needed to take a rain check on the picnic. I gazed up at her in concern, suddenly wondering if there had been more to her distraction than I’d previously thought. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to come?”

Joss shook her head and waved her phone at me. “No, I’m okay. Rhian just really needs someone to talk to. It can’t wait. Sorry.” She seemed to be avoiding Braden’s eyes and when I glanced at my brother, I found him studying Joss in a weird way.
Did he not believe her?
Rhian was Joss’s best friend. She stayed in London and had been having personal problems lately, so it was completely plausible that she needed to talk.

“See you later.” Joss walked away, her long ponytail swaying across her back.

Looking back at Braden I watched him watch her in a way that unnerved me. It wasn’t just the fact that he had that determined, focused expression he got on his face when he was going after something—usually a development property, and rarely a woman—it was the glimmer of excitement in his eyes. I’d never seen him look at anybody that way. The romantic side of me was happy. The practical side of me worried her lip between her teeth, thinking Joss and Braden were either the perfect match or a disaster waiting to happen.

Later that afternoon, after having frozen Adam out to the point of seriously pissing him off, my suspicions over Braden’s interest were confirmed when he pestered me all the way home about Joss. I knew by the time he’d dropped me off on Dublin Street that he was going after her, and I knew from having grown up with him that when Braden really wanted something he was absolutely relentless—especially when he was reaching for the impossible. I could only hope Joss didn’t hurt him while he tried to reach for her.

***

I’d spent the picnic catching up with Jenna and laughing at Braden and Ed’s jokes. Maybe once in the entire three hours we hung out did I speak directly to Adam, and I avoided his gaze at all costs. That was difficult, considering he was constantly trying to catch it. Thankfully, there wasn’t a quiet moment for him to ask me what the hell was wrong with me, so my form of torture worked out even better than I’d planned.

I was gratified to discover it
was
a form of torture because by the time Braden and I left the park, Adam’s expression was dark. Normally, Braden would have noticed our behavior, but much like Joss, he was kind of distracted.

I was even more pleased to discover later, after having a discussion with Joss regarding Braden, that she agreed with me: Adam needed to be taught a lesson. If he didn’t want to be in my life in a romantic sense, then he needed to butt out of my romantic life. I was determined to continue my torture that evening.

***

Braden, Adam, and I were going out for drinks with Darren, the manager of Braden’s nightclub Fire, and Darren’s wife, Donna. I wore a black top that was backless. It was held together by a silk ribbon across the middle of the back, while the front was demure with a high neckline and draped chiffon panel that fell a good three inches past my waist. I’d matched the top with black skinny jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted on. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun to give maximum impact to the top, and I was wearing four-inch silver heels to match my silver teardrop earrings.

It was a little more femme fatale than I usually went for, but I know it did the trick. Adam’s eyes flared when I turned around after greeting Donna, his gaze burning as he took in the full effect of my outfit.

That pissed me off.

What pissed me off even more was Braden’s choice of going to Club 39 that night. Knowing what he was up to regarding Joss, I didn’t feel comfortable letting him unleash his plan while she was busy working. However, Braden wouldn’t listen to me and Donna wanted to check out the bar.

My annoyance level increased when Adam held me back as we walked along George Street.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to guess?” he asked, his words clipped.

I shrugged, not looking at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ellie, don’t. Being a bitch doesn’t suit you.”

I flinched and kept walking. “You know what else doesn’t suit me? Being single. But apparently that’s not my choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he said, his voice low since we’d gotten closer to Braden.

I kept my voice quiet, too, as I illuminated him. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, you overbearing arsehole.”

“Everything okay?” Braden asked .

I nodded sharply and hurried forward to walk beside him. As we approached Club 39, I sighed and said, “Braden, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He shot me a wicked smile. “Always do. You know, Darren knows the doorman here.” Turning to Darren, Braden set his devious little plan in motion. “Darren, why don’t you go on in ahead and gets us drinks from the bar. We’ll find a table.”

Darren nodded and ignored the complaints from people standing in line as he made his way down the narrow steps to the basement bar. He greeted the big guy at the door and they spoke for a few minutes. He turned and pointed up to the street where we were standing and the next thing was we were being waved down the stairs. Darren disappeared inside the club and I watched Braden take Donna’s arm.

I glowered at his back. Donna was an attractive brunette and Braden was hoping to use her to make Joss jealous. I knew how Braden worked. He liked this idea because it meant that he could use a woman to make Joss jealous without actually getting entangled with another woman. My brother liked reaction, and I was guessing he wanted a big reaction from Joss. Part of me hoped she’d deal with it with her usual admirable self-confidence.

Unfortunately, my hopes were dashed. As soon as we got inside Club 39, I found Joss behind the bar and I watched her expression harden as Braden leaned down to whisper in Donna’s ear. He looked right through Joss and I saw a flicker of something I didn’t like pass in her eyes before she quickly turned away.

I really wanted to bash my brother’s head against Adam’s.

More than anything I just wanted to leave the two of them to themselves. But Adam wouldn’t let me. He pressed me forward as Braden managed to find us a table. I brushed off his hand, still playing it cool. I strode after Braden and stopped as he and Donna, followed by Adam, slid onto a couch. Standing over them, I couldn’t decide which one frustrated me more.