Whatever Happens Next (Triplets Book 2) Read online

  “When you got up to come out here, she watched you the entire time you walked away.” We carry on in silence, music and partygoers’ voices drowning out all other noise behind us. “Can I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “If you do what I believe you are going to do, keep it a secret, and end it before it goes too far. You won’t get another opportunity like the one Kendricks is giving you.”

  CHAPTER 11

  CHELSEA

  ALL THE GUESTS have left for the night. The Labelles stayed longer. Brooks paid the band for an extra hour when Jo agreed to dance with him now that everyone was gone. Cam’s date deserted him after the wine incident, so he dragged me onto the dance floor right behind them.

  Jo threw her high heels off to the side. We bounced around, jumping and swaying with the beat, but I kept mine on.

  Jo and Brooks were in the center, embracing and looking like the perfect dream of two people so in love. Cam and I goofed off, laughing too loud and thrusting in ways that did not go with the song.

  But I was having a blast.

  Betty and Earl even joined in. We made our own small after-party.

  “I think I need to have a dance floor put in at Triplets.” Cam bounced toward Jo.

  “As long as you promise to never dance at your own bar.” Brooks shoved him away.

  “You’re just jealous that I’ve always been the life of the party.”

  “Nice moves, Earl,” I called out as he two-stepped past me with Betty held tight in his arms. They moved with steady, quick steps around the edge.

  He grinned, reminding me so much of the mischievous ones his sons flashed at everybody.

  Earl twirled Betty out of his hold the moment he looped back around to where I stood. Before I knew what was happening, he latched onto my hand, and I was spun into Betty’s spot.

  He led, and I followed. My feet fumbled, but it didn’t slow Earl down. I stared at the ground between us, trying to match his steps. Earl kept tipping my chin up until I stopped focusing on my own feet and just went with his movements.

  My face hurt from laughing and smiling so much.

  “My own father, stealing my dance partner.” Cam hopped around in the center, solo and without a care, even though he complained.

  Once we reached the other side and my back wasn’t to everyone else, I saw Alex joined the group, dancing with his mom.

  My face heated, as it had all night whenever I looked at him. If I caught the slightest glimpse of his profile, snapshots of his hand trailing beneath my panties surfaced with vivid detail. Hot flashes came and went. Right when I got my mind off of what happened in the closet, the memory would slingshot back.

  Our clandestine moment was supposed to stay in that room. Since he was everywhere and I still had to go home with him, moving past any rashness did not look promising.

  Avoidance was doable. We barely see each other at the apartment. Tomorrow, I had a ton of work to do for Cheryl’s sunroom. I could stay locked away in my bedroom.

  It’s doable.

  I’ll sleep it off.

  Dear Lord, please let a hot kiss be as easy to forget with a night’s sleep as it is with a headache.

  Caterers and staff were breaking everything down around us. Harsh lights flipped on, purple linen was folded and put away, and the bright yellow flowers were cramped in a corner. We slowly ended our dance party so the band could pack up their equipment, and walked together outside to the valet stand.

  The seven of us stood around as the cars were pulling up. Alex’s sleek black Audi was the first in line.

  Alex stopped outside his driver door, speaking low to the employee. The young kid in uniform hustled around the hood to hold open the passenger door.

  He waited.

  Then glanced around our group.

  “Chelsea,” Alex said.

  “Hm?”

  Alex tipped his chin to the waiting valet.

  The others were staring at us.

  “Oh. I’m riding with you,” I say as if the duh just came to me. Which it did. I had been clinging to tomorrow, and forgot I still needed to avoid him tonight.

  “We’re going to the same place.”

  “Right,” I muttered beneath my breath.

  The valet shuts the car door once I’m seated. Alex waited, fiddling with his radio. He settled on a station for old country music, then drove away.

  The mind is a tricky thing. It’s a part of your body, but you have no control over it. I’m arguing with mine right now. Screaming and begging for it to calm the hell down. Because when the mind gets all worked up, it triggers everything else inside you. On the outside is a serene, quiet ride with two people in the car. But inside my head is a freaking Coachella concert. It’s getting weird as shit.

  I’m hot. Tingles are breaking out all over me. My belly is fluttering and then nose diving when Alex moves his hand.

  The hand that has touched me and felt physical evidence of my desire for him.

  Meanwhile, Alex sits there all peachy keen, singing along to freaking twangy country music.

  He’s hard to ignore. His singing voice only adds fuel to my fiery flesh.

  The song sounds familiar, or the artist does. My dad listens to the likes of Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, and Hank Williams. The screen reads Waylon Jennings Luckenbach, Texas.

  It’s Alex’s husky baritone that draws me in, singing along word for word. The sound rumbles through me, causing an odd reaction when he hits an even lower note.

  I’m staring, and he catches me when he peers into the mirrors before changing lanes.

  “What?”

  “You sing really well,” I say.

  That’s an understatement. I’m incredibly turned on.

  “Thanks. You know this music?”

  “My dad listens to country. Exclusively.”

  “I like the old country. The words. The acoustics.” He catches me smiling. “Is there something funny about that?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “I saw you as a rock kind of person.”

  “Classic rock is good too.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of Avenged Sevenfold or Alice in Chains.” A laugh bubbles out of me at the disturbed look on his face.

  The song changes and I sit back and listen to him sing. The moon sits straight overhead, casting a lovely white glow into his car with the visor of his sunroof pulled back. Listening to him is calming and awakening at the same time.

  I stargaze just to keep my eyes on anything but him.

  When he speaks, my head drops back inside.

  “Colt knows about the…” He clears his throat. “He knows you weren’t alone when he found you in the closet.”

  I lick my dry lips. “Is he mad?”

  The notion of anything progressing between Colt and me ended by the time dinner was served. Alex tainted that new prospect.

  Colt sat down at my table when everyone started to disperse. One look at my place card and he asked if I was that Chelsea Matthias. I assumed he knew Vic through the industry and got spooked. But my concern was for Alex and his personal relationship with Colt. I didn’t wish to cause a rift between Alex and his friend.

  “No. I was honest when I said Colt’s a great guy. I should have said something the second he pointed you out, but I was in denial.”

  I vaguely remember Alex rambling about Colt calling me the pink one.

  He was jealous.

  I can’t say there hasn’t been chemistry between us, but I never thought Alex would act on it. We have been living together for a week, and he’s done everything to keep his distance.

  “And now you’re not?” I ask, hesitant but pushing through it for an honest answer.

  This is not that cramped closet where it felt safe in the darkness to express our wants and desires. I devised the idea of avoiding him because I thought this would be awkward if what happened ever came up. But he’s driving me home and admitting to something.

  “The announcement for the n
ew GM is Monday. It’s complicated,” he says, sticking to the road ahead.

  “Is this where you tell me it shouldn’t have happened and it can’t ever happen again?” That’s cliché. But there’s a meaning behind that label. Things happen often enough that it is relatable for many reasons. We can’t all be so unique that no one can relate to us.

  “I think that speech was left behind in the coat closet.” Alex’s eyebrows deepen in thought. “But…”

  “I’m married,” I finish for him.

  “I say that as much for myself as I am for you, Chelsea. You’re coming out of a bad marriage.”

  “You know nothing about my marriage.” I snap in his direction, cutting him short. “You made it clear you wanted no involvement, so it’s not fair to discuss it like we’re friends all of a sudden.”

  His hand tightens on the wheel.

  If he really cared to listen, I would tell him everything. Around him, the shame lessens. I’m comfortable with him. He’s logical and smart and respectful.

  He’s also broody, and I find it kind of sexy.

  “Under different circumstances, we would be friends,” he says.

  Alex was looking out for himself. It’s what I should be doing too.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “Don’t be. I like your temper.”

  I squint through the little lighting inside his car.

  He’s smiling.

  God, he’s so confusing.

  “Other than my husband, you’re the first guy I’ve kissed in ten years.” That’s probably something I shouldn’t have admitted.

  His grip compresses again, scrunching around the leather.

  “Do you feel I pushed you too soon?” he asks.

  Shaking my head, I hide a smile before answering. “I know what it’s like to have choices made for me. For the first time in a very long time, I’m doing what I want. So no, you didn’t push me, Alex. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted more, and I wouldn’t have regretted it if that door never opened and we stayed in there a little longer.”

  Alex groans. “You are making this really hard.”

  I am in deep with the gutter at those words. And cursing the night because I cannot get a clear view to see if he is in fact, hard.

  “If you hadn’t caught Vic cheating would you still be with him?” Alex asks, extending an olive branch toward the subject he’s fought to stay out of.

  Or just really putting a damper of what was starting to become heated.

  “That’s tough to answer. But I believe everything happens for a reason.”

  Alex’s head moves once with a slight nod.

  To fill the silence, I start talking. And before long, I’ve delved in deep with more than I planned to give.

  “My bad marriage wasn’t always bad. At least, that’s what I told myself for many, many years. I made excuses for him, so I would feel better about the way he treated me. He checked my phone and read the messages I sent throughout the day to my sisters and friends. Nitpicked at things they said and told me I had terrible taste in friends. I lost all of them eventually. It’s why I held so close to Jo when I met her. And Vic hated that. He critiqued me so much that I couldn’t recognize what characteristics of myself were actually me anymore. Every day I acted like someone who had to make him happy, I lost pieces of myself. I did whatever was necessary to not upset him just so I could have a good day. Last year I finally caved and asked for something of my own. I thought it would fix the emptiness I had been feeling. I asked him to start a family.”

  “He didn’t want that,” Alex fills in when I fall quiet.

  “He did not. But instead of telling me that, we tried and tried, and I started to believe I was the problem when months were passing with no positive results. Before I went home at Christmas time, I found out he had a vasectomy behind my back.”

  “Jesus,” Alex swears.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “I’ve been checked out of my marriage for a lot longer than the few months it’s been since we split.”

  Everyone appealed to my divorce as Vic’s affair. No one saw that through his disloyalty I was unburdened. I was starting over and free to make my own decisions. Bad or good. After kissing Alex, my devil horns were peeking through.

  Quite frankly, I deserved to be a little reckless.

  Alex unlocked desires inside me I didn’t believe existed. My sex life was fine with Vic. He had stamina and a hunger that I would gladly toot my own horn for matching. But there were many selfish moments with him too.

  One touch from Alex and I knew the self he would be tending to first, would always be mine.

  I wanted to explore more of that passion.

  I wanted to chase it.

  Alex pulled his car into an empty spot in the underground parking below our building. I waited for an extra breath after he got out. I needed it. There was a boost in my confidence, but anyone with common sense would take the second breath to make sure what they wanted to say was a smart move or not.

  When he opened my door for me, I hadn’t yet decided.

  Guess I needed three deep breaths.

  We walked through the lobby and waited for the elevator to arrive. I watched impatiently as the numbers ticked off one floor after another with its dawdling descent. Sultry laughter appeared beside us right as the elevator doors opened.

  A middle-aged woman hung on the arm of a guy half her age. I was all for girl power and boss lady motivational moments, this lady was clearly living her best life, but her good time was interfering with my yas queen moment. The May-December couple made out like those awkward teenagers sitting in the row in front of you at the movie theater.

  The. Whole. Ride. Up.

  Their floor was one beneath ours.

  At last, we stepped into our apartment. I walked ahead of Alex, but in the gallery where his room split in the opposite direction from mine, I stopped.

  “I’m not looking for commitment,” I started, then sputtered out.

  Alex stood five feet away. The golden city lights left an amber glow across one side of his face. He was so sexy it scrambled my brain.

  “I get why we can’t be together. Or be more than coat closet worthy. I know who I am makes it impossible for anything more than a hookup. But I don’t need anything more right now.”

  “I cannot do any more secrets,” Alex confesses. The steel in his voice had me wondering how much more there was to that statement. “They’re time bombs. They have expiration dates you don’t get to choose, and when they’re up, they explode in everyone’s faces.”

  “We can choose. My time here already has an expiration date.”

  Alex’s gaze thundered, zapping like heat lightning in the dark. “That’s months away.”

  Three months, maybe four. Just until pre-season starts. Enough time for Vic to go off and travel and spend time with family in Vancouver as he did during every off-season.

  “Make me your secret, Alex.”

  “It’s bigger than morals. I don’t give a fuck about Vic. You’re better off without him. No one would be allowed to know about us, Chelsea. No one.”

  “There is no one here to tell.” I felt it right that second. My words sealed the deal.

  This apartment was a safe zone. Our new bubble. It would hold all the truths we were not permitted to pursue.

  Alex closed the distance, stalking the floor with one hand lax within his pocket. “Just to clarify. If I take you in that room right now.” He emphasized by thrusting a finger toward the bedroom door. The skin of his hand was almost grazing my cheek. “Strip you down and peel off that sexy piece of lingerie you pranced around in today. We fuck all night long if I want to. You can wake up tomorrow and keep it all a secret?”

  I swallowed past the dry mouth. My panties weren’t dry, though. Alex’s crass way of saying what and how we would be doing the nasty tonight hit those buttons like a pinball champ.

  “Can you? The Labelles gossip more than you men think us females do.”
All my years having to keep my mouth shut were blasting wide open in one night.

  “If we do this, it’s while I’m living here only,” he says.

  I kind of wanted those three months I have left in Tampa, but sure, what’s a couple weeks instead.

  “I put an offer on a house today. The owner is eager to sell. I’ll likely be closing within a week.”

  So one week then.

  My heart raged against the wall of flesh keeping it within.

  “A short fling. I won’t tell if you don’t,” I replied.

  CHAPTER 12

  CHELSEA

  ALEX MOVED, PRESSING backward until we stood inside my room.

  He reached to loosen his bow tie, the ends hanging around either side of his neck. Dark and hooded eyes watched my fingers pull down on the zipper along my ribs. The blush pink tulle fell to the floor in a puddle at my feet.

  A growl hummed in his chest when I was left in nothing but lingerie and high heels. With the top button of his crisp white shirt undone, I placed a kiss at the open base of his throat.

  Alex’s fingers slide into the hair at the back of my head. He tugs, firm but without hurting me, and exposes my mouth for his taking.

  Everything I felt earlier tonight came rushing back tenfold. Cool air bites into my bare flesh, but the taste of his tongue stroking my bottom lip shoots fire through my veins.

  Alex runs his mouth along my jaw and down my neck. I sigh with pleasure when his grip in my hair tightens. He bites my shoulder before releasing his hold. My eyes flutter open when I don’t feel his lips return to mine.

  His hands slip beneath the straps digging into the skin above my hips. His heavy gaze grips me.

  No one has eyes like Labelle eyes. On an average day, they’re a misty gray-blue that makes a person want to fall into them and snuggle up with a cozy blanket. But when any emotion overrides their system, they swirl with a fierce potency. It’s thunderclouds and wild typhoons. A beautiful disaster I can’t look away from.

  Alex lowers to his knees. The way he stares up at me from below leaves me feeling powerful. Like he’s at my mercy.