Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (2 page)

I, on the other hand, have believed wholeheartedly in true love and saving myself for “the one” ever since my high school boyfriend-turned-fiancé and I broke up seven years ago. I thought we would be together for the long haul, but eventually realized it was a joke. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I still believe there is someone fate has in store for me, except never again will I try to change a guy—it’s a waste of everyone’s time. When I meet the right person to fall in love with I’ll know, but until then I’ll just have to wait. Which is why here
I
am, twenty-six years old, standing alone in a crowded room holding a now-empty glass of champagne.

Reality, you sure do suck sometimes.

I’m about to turn for a refill on my drink when I feel a presence right behind me. I smell the distinct, spicy sharpness of cinnamon, and I’d recognize it anywhere.

Ryan Blake, Lucas’ best friend, reaches his muscular, tuxedo-clad arm in front of me with a flute of bubbly. “I think it’s my duty, as best man of this fine affair, to keep the maid of honor company . . . and thoroughly hydrated.” He places the full glass in my hand, reaching for the empty one and placing it on a high top table in front of us.

Ry and I first met close to a year ago when I, as her realtor, helped Kinsley rent a house from Eli. Ryan is his lawyer so we met at the lease signing, but we’ve had a few more clients in common since. Between occasional, brief work interactions and having mutual best friends, we’ve become familiar. I’ll admit I only first noticed him for his looks—his tall, athletic frame with short, dark hair that always manages to look both messy and styled, and deep, blue eyes that are always cool and enticing—but I’m sorry to report he’s not exactly soul mate material. It’s a pretty well-known fact he’s not the type to settle down. While I’ve never really heard him talk about his love life, I’ve certainly heard the rumors. The guy’s middle name should be One-Night-Stand. He always looks so laid back and sure of himself it’s no wonder women fall at his feet . . . or on his dick. Apparently he is quite skilled with that thing, so I’ve read on more than one bathroom wall. Couple that with the whole sexy, smart lawyer things he’s got going on and there’s no denying Ryan Blake is about as hot as they come.

But unfortunately his inability to commit means he’s off limits for me.
Damn.

“Gee, thanks.” I take a drink of the champagne before nodding toward his own empty hands. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

He just smirks and shakes his head. “Nah. I don’t drink, so I’ll have to watch you enjoy that enough for the both of us.”

I tilt my head and try to tell if he’s lying, but something about his self-assured demeanor makes me think he’s not the type to make something up for the hell of it. “Really? Why’s that?”

He looks out at the crowd, choosing his words carefully before turning back to me. “I used to drink. Too fucking much. So, now I don’t.” He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs, as if it really is as simple as that.

We continue to stand in silence and people-watch around the ballroom. A slow ballad starts playing, which means a bunch of couples—including the bride and groom—are snuggled out on the dance floor. I see Logan and Tristan, mutual friends of Lucas and Ryan, slow-grind with two girls who seem to be enjoying the open bar a little too much. Between the effects of the alcohol and my current mood, I must have quite the look on my face.

“So, planning any hot wedding hookups tonight?” Ryan smirks seductively.

I roll my eyes. Typical perverted man-talk. “I’m pretty sure harassing the maid of honor isn’t part of your job description. Isn’t there some slutty bimbo around to indulge your perverted fantasies?” I plaster on a fake, sweet smile. I was aiming for teasing rather than bitchy, but I’m already feeling frustrated without being reminded of my current love life . . . more accurately my lack thereof.

Ryan chuckles. “Ouch. Aw c’mon, Brooks. I’m just trying to make friendly conversation.” He leans in to rest his arm on the table in front of us. “And I didn’t mean me. There’s a guy over there that can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. Might be a good contender.”

He nods toward an attractive blond haired man talking to an elderly couple across the room. The guy has a nice smile with straight, white teeth. Completing his all-American look are two adorable dimples dotting his cheeks. We make eye contact and he grins at me.

I take a moment to assess my reaction.

Nope, no butterflies. No spark. I break our gaze and shake my head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Poor guy. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s the one and you don’t even know it?” Ryan looks at me with a mocking tilt of his head. Last night at the rehearsal dinner he was around when Kinsley and I were talking and I may have mentioned something about waiting for the right guy when she pointed out some of Lucas’ cousins. I bet he couldn’t wait for the perfect opportunity to tease me about it.

“I just know. There’s nothing there when I look at him. No . . . fireworks or anything.”

Ryan opens and closes his mouth several times, but no words come out. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. He studies me intensely, trying to understand.

“What?” I try to explain. “I don’t waste my time with random hookups when I know it won’t lead to anything more.”

He looks baffled before asking, “So you’re telling me you refuse to have sex unless it comes with a fucking marriage proposal or something?” He chuckles, amused. “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin, too.”

I’m not surprised by his unsympathetic questioning, but I am impressed with his unashamed bluntness. Most guys try to dance around the topic, but I find it much easier to lay it out up front.

“No.” Not exactly. “I had a serious boyfriend in high school and college, and yes we had sex, so you can wipe that appalled look off your face. We broke up right before we graduated, and I realized I had already wasted too many years on him knowing it wouldn’t last. I decided then that it would be pointless to screw around unless I knew there was a future with someone.” I decide to leave out the part that we were engaged when I found out Jake was really just a lying sack of shit. I think back to a few months ago when I saw Ryan at a beach party and he basically admitted he has no plans to ever get serious. We may not agree on the end game, but we both can appreciate honesty. “As I’ve heard you, yourself, mention, there’s no use in setting up any unrealistic expectations.” He of all people should understand.

Ryan lets a devilish grin play across his lips. “Well this guy must have been a terrible fuck if he made you swear off sex for the past however many years. That’s a damn shame.” He gets more serious and stands up straight before formally stating, “On behalf of men everywhere, I personally want to apologize for such a misrepresentation of our general population’s skills in the sack.” He puts his hand to his chest, as if swearing a sincere oath, although a lighthearted chuckle breaks through.

I stiffen my shoulders, trying to exude confidence. This, after all, is
my
business, right? I can choose to do whatever I want. Or, in this case,
not
do.

Except when I finally hear myself say all of it out loud to someone as straightforward and unattached as Ryan Blake—and he calls me on it—it does seem kind of ridiculous.

“It’s not because of that. I just. . . .” I trail off, unable to find the right words.

“ . . . want fireworks?” Ryan cocks his eyebrow and looks softer as he finishes my thought.

I nod. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Look,” Ryan leans back down toward me. “In all seriousness, do you really think the world is going to end if you loosen up and have some fun? I mean I’m no expert, but going a few years without an orgasm has got to be against the laws of nature or something.” The way he pretends to be genuinely concerned about my O status for the sake of my well-being makes me want to laugh.

Not wanting to let him get away with it, though, I lean in even closer. “Thanks for the concern, Blake, but let’s just say I’m more than capable of keeping myself company.” I give him a knowing look, and for a second I think he’s surprised I’m willing to admit it.

He quickly recovers, getting so close I can feel his breath. He doesn’t hide the way he moves his blue eyes down to my chest and lets them linger before returning them to lock onto mine. “Oh I have no doubt, Brooks. But you’re telling me you don’t sometimes want a little
company
?” The way he speaks in a deep, sexy voice and his eyes go glassy make me think he’s picturing something extremely salacious. I can practically hear imaginary clothes ripping off from here.

And damn it if I don’t feel a tingle between my legs.

Already feeling emotionally frustrated and confused, I try one last time to stand my ground, although I’m not sure who it’s supposed to convince more . . . him or me.

I sigh. “What’s the point? I believe there is someone out there for everyone . . . you know, like true love and all that? No use getting distracted in the meantime. My life has a plan, and I aim to stick to it.”

Ryan leans back so we’re not so close. He appears to be contemplating what I just said. “You really think that if you have sex—unattached, random, meaningless sex—tonight, that you might ultimately mess up your entire future with your supposed soul mate?”

I shrug, not sure what else to say. When he puts it like that it makes me question what I, myself, just argued. If we’re saying the same thing, how come he makes it sound so much more irrational?

“Wow. You’re mad, you know that, right?” Ryan laughs and shakes his head.

Regaining some clarity, along with a little defensive anger, I retaliate. “How about you tell me what’s so great about random, meaningless sex, then. You’d rather have a string of one night stands than feel something real and serious?” I cross my arms, throwing in an accusatory glare.

Despite looking stung for a brief moment, without backing down, Ryan continues. “Sex doesn’t have to be meaningful for you to feel something. Hell, I feel all sorts of things when I’m with a girl, and I don’t even have to know her name.” He gets a smug, cocky look, but I catch a glimpse of something else in his eyes. Regret maybe? But it passes quickly and I’m reminded of what an arrogant ass he is.

Not wanting to let him off the hook, I scoff, “You sound like some sort of sex addict.”

Ryan goes rigid and I see his jaw tick, but he remains calm and laid back when he speaks. “Addiction is a sign of weakness. It’s selfish and reckless. I promise you, when it comes to women I am nothing if not straightforward and controlled. Sex can be anything you need it to be if you’re honest and up front about it—hot, dirty, warm, loud, wild, and downright liberating. You can’t knock it till you try it, sweetheart, so until you do I can’t take what you say too seriously.”

Then he winks.

I want that to disgust me, but it has the opposite effect. What the hell is wrong with me?

“So, what? You’re telling me that I should go proposition Dimples over there,”—I motion to the man still chatting with the older couple—“for a quick romp in the bathroom before you’ll admit what I have to say makes sense?”

Without missing a beat, Ryan retorts, “If you think that’s what you need to do—and that he’ll be the one to satisfy you—go ahead.” He looks right at me with a smug coolness that is indifferent yet still somehow challenging. “But I think we both know there’s a better chance of hell freezing over.”

Now he’s purposely trying to needle me.

And it’s working.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, now majorly insulted.

He throws his arms up in mock surrender. “Hey, you wouldn’t want anything to derail your train to Prince Charming.” He leans in closer before snidely adding, “I hear he’s coming in on the 10 AM express tomorrow, so you don’t want to chance missing him, right?”

He smiles in what I assume is meant to be a playful way, but it just gets my blood boiling. He keeps twisting my words around so they sound so pathetic.

OK, maybe it is a little pathetic to put my entire life on hold for some man I’m not sure exists yet. But I’ll be damned if I let Ryan Blake think I’m helpless and naive. I might believe in things like true love and soul mates, but that doesn’t have to mean I don’t know how to live in the moment. It
has
been seven years . . . maybe it is time I have a little fun.

I down the rest of my glass of champagne in one gulp before pinning Ryan with an icy stare. “Good thing I’m both punctual
and
a morning person, then. But tonight, I think it’s safe to say, is Mr. Wrong’s lucky night.” And with that I try to storm over to the man with the dimples.

Ryan grabs my arm to spin me back around toward his chest before I can get very far.

Oh, hello rock solid abs . . .

“Fuck, OK, hold on there, Brooks. I was just teasing you. There’s no reason to go screw some random guy you’ve never met just to prove a point to me. I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely apologetic as he squeezes my shoulder. The way he goes from cruel to kind in a matter of seconds confuses me.

I look into his eyes, wanting to make sure he knows I’m not some sort of clueless shrinking violet. “I’m not naive, Blake. I don’t think that if I make one small, stupid decision now it will throw off my entire life. And even if it did, I make my own choices and deal with my own consequences.”

Ryan’s eyes get softer. “I respect that. I really do, Kell. It’s your life, so it’s your call how you choose to live it. But I can see you desperately need to let loose a little and I want to help. I just didn’t think you’d be so feisty about it.” He smiles and I feel a strange flutter in the pit of my stomach.

I cross my arms again, shielding both him from my
feistiness
and myself from his genuine stare. It’d be easier to hate him if he really was just a raging asshole, but the sad truth is he’s simply able to put into words every doubt and fear I’ve always tried to ignore. I don’t want to feel like I’m missing out on an experience because I’m too stubborn to admit I might be too idealistic.

And that makes me want to prove him—and myself—wrong even more.