Forever Together (Forever Love #2) (19 page)

If the guy hadn’t caught me at a weak moment at Christmas, tired as fuck from classes and pretty damn miserable, I wouldn’t have taken his shitty ass job in the first place. Hell, if he hadn’t taken advantage of my weak moment, I'd still be living in LA with Cinders. We would never have broken up. We'd still be together. So basically, the douchebag and his opportunity ruined my life.

That realization has another wave of anger passing through me.

"I’m gonna kick your ass." I say, completely straight faced and with a voice too calm. I don’t know why I've got the sudden urge to knock him out, but I feel like I deserve that shit.

"Now Brady-" His voice trails off when the sound of clicking reaches us.

"Oh, look who it is." I grimace. "Might as well make this bullshit meeting a family one."

The door swings open and my Mom, in her white pencil dress totters in. Her fake look of concern doesn’t faze me. There’s no way she didn’t know what this asshole was gonna do. I’m not saying she supported it but she didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Just like always, Rachel Cooper rolled over for her stupid ass husband and let her son suffer the consequences. Fuck that shit. I ain’t a kid anymore.

"What is going on here?" She puts her hands on her hips and looks between us. "I could hear yelling from the kitchen." She serious right now? She’s seriously gonna pretend she doesn’t know.

"Brady and I were just discussing a few things, Rachel. Everything’s fine."

"Brady?" She looks to me as if I'll give her an answer. Her eyebrows are raised. Well they’re as raised as possible, the botox is probably cracking.

"I’m outta here." I give them both a dirty ass look and head towards the open door. "You really are fucking perfect for each other. The douchebag millionaire and the absentee mother, like a damn movie." I throw the words over my shoulder just before slamming the door behind me so hard the wall shakes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I just lost the only income I got. I just lost the only job I ever had.

"BRIAN!" I yell, knowing he’s probably asleep somewhere. It’s such a big ass house I’m surprised the little guy doesn’t get lost in it.

I hear his claws scratching against the hardwood floors. It’s as good as sticking a damn bell on his collar. He turns the corner from the living room, his feather duster swinging from side to side.

"You," I point at him. “should have shit on that jackass instead of pissing on him."

I get a head tilt in reply and walk towards him, grabbing him up off the floor and tickling that spot behind his ear. Other than Cinders, Brian’s the only one that can calm me.

I need to get out of here before either of those two come out. I’m sure my Mom doesn’t want me tackling her husband to the floor and my patience concerning her is pretty much hanging on by a thread right now.

I’ve never been one to drink the pain away because let’s face it, with genes like mine that'd be pretty damn stupid. Right now I need to just dull the urge to barge back in there and say my piece. Keeping Brian nestled under one arm, I pat the outside of my pockets, feeling for my keys, wallet and phone. I head towards the door just as I hear my Mom's voice shouting something at Bob.

I got another few hours before I pick Cindy up so that’s more than enough time for one or two beers to relax me. I may not have a job and I may not have a college education, but at least I've still got my dark haired beauty. Nothing else matters but that.

Chapter 14

Cindy

"Stop hiding." I tell my reflection in the bathroom mirror, looking between that and the text on my phone.              

Taking you out ;) x

What do I say to that? That I can’t go because I don’t know if I'll be able to control myself and not rip his shirt from his back?

I groan and bury my face in my hands. I’m a floozy. I’m a slut. I had sex with my ex-boyfriend in the bed of his truck without a condom and acted like some kind of stripper, grinding and panting.

Will I ever be able to be around Brady and not completely lose my mind? That’s what I’m blaming the whole thing on. Temporary insanity. Technically, it’s half true because his kiss definitely drove me crazy. Just the memory of it has heat rushing through my body. And his hands! God those hands are talented. I’m not even gonna mention his mouth because I’m pretty sure there's not a high enough dial on the air con to cool me down.

I look up
from the p
a
l
m of my hands again and
and
take a good look
at myse
l
f
. My hair’s the same ebony color it’s always been. My skin’s the same creamy white it’s always been, not even the hot Georgia sun effecting it other than leaving a red rash on my shoulders. My eyes though, they’re definitely different. They're wide and sparkly and full of life rather than the miserable ones I've been seeing in the mirror for the past six months. Gone are the dark circles from attempting to sleep on a fold out couch covered in sharp springs. Gone is the pure torture that was always reflected back at me. I’m happy. I’m actually frickin' happy.

I throw my shoulders back and stand up straight, nodding to myself.

"That’s it Cindy. Time to toughen up." I may have lost my mind. Probably have judging by what I’m about to do. Oh hell, I’ll just blame the temporary insanity again. I'll say it made a quick comeback.

Tapping the letters on the onscreen keyboard on my phone, I give Brady the answer that I hope he wants, agreeing to a date. At least I think it was a date he was asking for. He said he was picking me up to take me out. That’s a date, right?

Knocking on the door causes me to jump a little, my heart almost beating out of my chest from the shock.

"BOO TWO! YOU IN THERE BOO TWO?" Trina. Of course.

"Uh, coming!" I call out, flipping the tap on and quickly running my hands underneath.

I take one last look in the mirror before exiting the Preston’s downstairs bathroom, almost bumping into Trina.

"I was beginning to think you got lost in there. You got that text and then ran off so quick. Everything ok?"

"I’m good." I plaster a smile across my face, not quite sure if it’s fake or not. "Looks like I've got a date tonight." If it is a date. I keep that to myself though. No need to announce that I’m such an idiot that I don’t know what is and what isn’t a date.

"Ooooh Brady and Cindy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love then comes marriage then comes-"

"Actually, Trina." Liv interrupts, popping up from nowhere and grabbing an arm from each of us. "I think it’s Brady and Cindy sitting in a truck, getting down and ready to fu-"

"Ok, ok." I hold my one free hand up. "Either way, I get the message."

"She's got a date." Trina wiggles her eyebrows.

"Really? That's great. Hey, you think you can sneak us out when you go. If I have to hear any more about that damn wedding I’m gonna pop myself in the fucking head."

"Er... boo. You do realize it’s your wedding?" Trina points out, a smile tugging at her berry red lips.

"You wouldn’t fucking think so. I’m seriously just wondering whether to hop on a plane and do this shit in Vegas. Uh huh, at least then I won’t have to spend the next few weeks listening to dribble about cake samples and table settings. I swear she’s just getting fucking worse. The nearer the wedding gets the more fucking crazy she becomes."

"Aww she’s just excited." I say in an attempt to calm Liv down. Her fists are clenching and unclenching and I have a feeling Mrs. Preston may be attending this wedding with finger marks round her neck.

"Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it too." She points at me. "She’s had you running round the place like a headless chicken the last few days all because you’re too nice to say no."

That is true. I can’t count how many phone calls I've had to make just to check everything’s on schedule. The caterer threatened to stick a ladel up my ass yesterday if I didn’t stop calling. Of course Mrs. Preston blames
it on
him being French. Apparently they’re just passionate about their work. I blame
it on
him
for
being an asshole.

"Anyway, never mind your wedding disaster, you ready for round two with Brady?" Trina winks.

"No, I’m pretty sure round two was in the truck as well." I smack my hand over my mouth as theirs drop open.

"Bitch has been holding out on us boo."

"Uh uh uh." Liv shakes her head. "We want details."

"Girls there you are!" Mrs. Preston breezes into the room before I can be thoroughly interrogated.              

"How did she find us?" Trina mumbles from the side of her mouth.

I shrug my shoulders, staring at the item in Mrs. Preston’s hands with horror. If it wasn’t a sign of impending doom that instead of looking immaculate with not a hair out of place, she has her brown shoulder length locks thrown up in a knot, the folder, bursting with files and magazine cuttings would do it.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice Trina throw an accusatory glare at Liv who looks as if she’s about to throw up.

"I found the wedding planner." Mrs. Preston squeals, bouncing on her feet. "I have no idea how it ended up on the top shelf of the linen closet. I must have put it down without thinking when putting the laundry away."

The way Liv’s shoulders sag, I have a feeling it wasn’t so much a misplacement as a kidnapping. A kidnapping that went horribly wrong because it definitely didn’t succeed.

I may have nightmares about that folder for years to come. The white plastic is as frightening as a loaded gun held by Chucky. It contains lists and lists of things to do, errands to run and a tight schedule that according to Noah’s Mom, needs to be followed down to slightest detail.

"Yay. Now we can follow your timeline." Liv says with a straight face.

"Well sweetie, we have the final dress fitting this week and the final tasting for the catering. Oh Cindy dear, did you call them yesterday like I asked?"

"Yes, Mrs. Preston. They said, um..." They said they’d stick a ladel in an exit only zone if I didn’t stop calling. "They said that everything’s coming along great."

"Oh wonderful. We also have the bachelorette party, the decorators and also the cars to finalize."

"I thought that you just pay a bunch of people and they turn up and do shit on the day." Liv groans.

"Honey, have you ever watched one of those shows on the tv about weddings from hell? Well, how do you think they happened? They paid a bunch of people to turn up and do stuff on the day and instead of a tight ship that sailed smoothly, they were probably all in a tizzle. Next thing you know, there’s a wedding cake in a pile on the floor, a dress with a rip in it and the maid of honor is sleeping with the groom."

What the hell? I bite the inside of my cheek when Liv looks towards Trina, her actual maid of honor. I have a feeling Mrs. Preston’s been watching too much Lifetime.

"Well, not that that wedding doesn’t sound amazing... for me anyway." Trina smirks. "I think this wedding’s gonna be perfect and even if it isn’t, the bachelorette party will more than make up for it."

Oh dear God, no!

"I can’t wait for it. It’s been years since I went to one. It’s gonna be a real girl’s night." Mrs. Preston says and my stomach plummets. It’s official. I’m the one that’s gonna be attending the wedding with fingermarks around my neck.

Liv looks to Trina who simply shrugs and then to me. I’m pretty sure trying to slink out of the back door is giving me away.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing." Liv says with a straight flat voice, her eyes not leaving me for a second. "Excuse me, I just need to have a few words with Cindy." Oh hell no.

"Oh, is that the time, I've got a date to prepare for so I better be off. We'll have to talk another time, Liv."

"Oh no you don’t." Liv grasps me by the elbow and pulls me in the opposite direction to the exit.

              I was so close to getting out of here unharmed. Looks like I gotta face retribution for my big mouth. I’m pulled along, my cherry red heels clicking on the hardwood floors. Doesn’t Liv know that it’s not possible to be dragged in heels? At this rate I’m gonna end up on my ass and then she'll have a bridesmaid with not only finger marks round her neck, but a bruised ass as well. I’m spun around so instead of being dragged along, I’m now standing in front of my very pissed off friend.

"What did you do?" She asks, her perfectly shaped eyebrows almost at her hairline.

"Um, well." I try and think of a valid excuse to get me out of this. I could always go with that temporary insanity excuse.

"Cindy." She drags my name out.

"It wasn’t my fault technically." I start, biting my lip and fidgeting with my hands. "She asked about the bachelorette party and looked so sad that she wouldn’t be coming. "

"Oh Jesus."

"You don’t understand what it was like. She started reminiscing about when she was younger and how she hadn’t been to one in so long and then she started sighing, like a lot. I don’t know what happened but she looked so happy when I asked her." I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next part. A part that most definitely is going to get me throttled. "And then it kinda turned into a snowball and before I knew it, my Mom was coming and Trina’s Mom and maybe even Brady’s Mom-"

"Wait, so not just Pam’s coming? Oh fuck, it’s gonna be like open day at the old folk’s home."

"It won’t be that bad. They'll probably go home at like ten to sleep." Cause that’s what forty year olds do right?

"Like I said before, you are way too nice." She says with a heavy sigh.

"So you’re not mad?" I ask, my spirits lifted.

"Oh, I’m spitting but there’s not much we can do about it now.
Of c
C
ourse I’m gonna make sure your Mom's drinks are topped up the whole night. Yeah I’m gonna make sure she really lets her hair down."

"Oh God no, she'll start doing the cha cha slide." I'll never live it down. I'll never be able to step foot out in public again.

"Ah the cha cha slide, maybe this won’t be so bad after all then. Revenge Cindy." Liv casually throws out before turning around and walking back into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face.

***

It takes serious skill to be able to do liquid eyeliner. It’s a skill I've not mastered in my twenty years on Earth. It’s also a skill I've decided to master twenty minutes before my date. Twenty minutes!

I must be a fool, but after watching three makeup tutorials on YouTube I’m confident I've got it in the bag. I can do this.

I guess the vain part of me that’s been dormant the past six months is back in full force seeing as though after leaving Liv’s house and coming home, I've spent the entire time preparing for Brady’s arrival. I've exfoliated and shaved practically every inch of my body, deep conditioned my hair so that it drops shiny and straight down my back rather than thick knots that cause me to resemble the bird lady out of the second Home Alone movie and I've even put on matching underwear, something that a few weeks ago would have been nothing short of a miracle.

Now, if only I can get this damn eyeliner right, all will be right in my world. Seriously how hard can it really be? It’s not like I’m trying to paint a miniature Mona Lisa on my eyelids, it’s just a line.

I stare in my reflection in the arch shaped mirror that hangs above the guest bathroom vanity. Yes, I’m hiding, I don’t need Luke who I could have sworn had moved out playfully pushing me. I also don’t need Avery in my ear complaining about her job for the one hundred thousandth time. I just need silence, absolute silence.

"Whatcha doing?"

"FUCK!" That’s it! I give up! Screw having a skill.

"That’s a bad word Cindy." I turn around and look down at the dark haired little girl I’m about five seconds away from throttling.

"Bailey." I breathe. I can be calm. I can be calm. If I just keep repeating that to myself, we'll both be able to leave this bathroom with minimal injury.

I turn back around, pretty sure ignoring her is the best course of action and forcefully screw the lid back on the eyeliner. I shove it back into my black lace makeup bag and pull out a pencil instead. It may not look as good but it basically does the same job.

I can feel eyes on my back, waiting for me to pay attention. Bailey hops up onto the vanity and stares at me as I struggle to ignore her. Her legs are swinging back and forth, banging into the cupboard underneath every damn time. I’m gonna kill this kid. Blocking everything else out, I focus on getting my makeup perfect, humming in appreciation when I see the finished product. I've gone for a smoky eye look, something that makes me look all mysterious and exotic. My pale porcelain skin is bronzed to perfection so instead of looking like a walking corpse, I look sun kissed.