Breathe Read online

  Nothing.

  I miss him.

  I’m stupid.

  After what felt like the longest car ride ever, Thomas pulls the car up near the front door of the nightclub. He jumps out and opens the back-passenger door for me, taking my hand to help me out onto the sidewalk. Rafe stands behind him waiting for me as I adjust the lower half of my dress.

  “Are you ready for this?” Rafe asks all excited.

  “As I’ll ever be. But I just want to let you know before we go in there, I hate you.” I grin as he takes my hand from Thomas. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome Grace. I’ll see you later tonight when you’re ready to leave.” He nods once. “Just give me notice.” He glances in Rafe’s direction and nods again. He gets in the drivers seat, pulls out into traffic and drives off.

  I turn and let Rafe lead me with his hand on the small of my back. We walk past the black velvet rope that holds back prospective patrons, noticing glares from a few scantily clad girls and smirks from a few overly muscled, too tanned guys. When we get to the door, Rafe gives a nod to the bouncer, and without any trouble we go in. I take his hand in a tight grip, nervous and unsure about what I’m walking into.

  A hot guy wearing a simple black V-neck t-shirt with the word “colorblind” scribbled in a font that looks like handwriting greets Rafe, leans in and says something into his ear. Rafe smiles and nods. He takes my jacket and hands it to the guy. We follow him around the left side of the center bar to a small set of steps. As he removes the rope I hear a squeal of excitement. I know that sound well. I look up to the top of the stairs and see Briar jumping up and down waving at us. Her giant boobs flop around, attracting the attention of almost every man in the place. I drop Rafe’s hand and climb the five steps to her open arms. She grabs me and we spin in a tight embrace.

  Briar is my best girlfriend from college, the only roommate I had in the four years we attended. She’s part of the “circle”. That’s what we call the few of us that stand each other longer than a few hours. To say she is protective of me is an understatement. She could kick your ass in a matter of seconds if pushed hard enough. Chicks envy her and guys cream themselves gawking at her. She's tall with long blonde hair, hazel eyes, big boobs and an ass that won’t quit. I’m pretty sure the black snakeskin heels she’s wearing are mine. God, that bitch wears clothes of mine I didn’t even know she took. My closet is her personal shopping center.

  Briar smiles and pushes her face to mine so we’re cheek to cheek. “Are you ready for this, Gracie?”

  “No. But I’ll do my best.” I answer with hesitation. I grab Rafe’s hand while locked with Briar. “Don’t leave me, ladies.”

  They both squeeze tighter.

  I put a smile on my face and let Briar lead me through the small private area, followed by Rafe. It overlooks the bar that I just passed and the large dance floor that is over the opposite railing. We’re nestled in between the two and raised above the floor like we are on display for all to see.

  I look around the roped off area and see my closest circle of friends and three older brothers. They all start to move my way and stand in a disorganized line to greet me. No pressure, right? It's like having sympathy for the devil or something.

  First up is my second oldest brother, Miles. His dark blond hair is a mess but he likes it that way. He thinks it brings all the ladies to his yard. He’s also the brains behind this evening. Of all my older brothers, I’m closest to him. His light brown eyes gleam with brotherly love, or alcohol. I have yet to determine which.

  “Hey, Gracie,” he shouts in my ear as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. It's the alcohol. If I had to guess I’d say he probably has a good four or five drinks in him already.

  “Hey.” I playfully slap his chest. “I hate you by the way.”

  “I know.” He grins and hands me a small robin's egg blue colored box. I open it and find a small angel charm. I look up at him as he pulls it from the box. He grabs my wrist and attaches it to my charm bracelet. It sits next to a gift box charm that Landon gave me for my eighteenth birthday.

  Softly, Miles kisses my wrist. “Just try to have fun tonight, okay? It’s all for you.” He releases my wrist, brings his hands up to my face, squeezes his palms to my cheeks and kisses me on the nose. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. But you’re still an asshat!” Grinning, he backs up and makes way for the others.

  Next up is my third oldest brother Landon and his girlfriend June. After them is Rory, a socialite friend from my teenage years and budding Broadway star, and Olive, my only true friend from high school. She's from a prominent New York family and the lead singer of a local alt/rock band. She’s a contradiction in every way. She's also what you would call my “slutty” friend. Following them is my oldest brother Parker and his wife Melanie. Last up is my friend since we were five, Ryan and his latest flavor of the moment that I have yet to meet.

  “Gracie, babe!” He holds his arms out wide. “Where have you been?”

  “Waiting for you to drag your ass to come over and play,” I reply in a sarcastic but playful tone. Ryan's full lips turn into a huge grin as he pushes his dark hair out of his eyes. They’re eyes that can drive a woman crazy. Narrow and deep brown, one look from him and all you feel is the intensity of him radiating out of those things. They scream for you to “come hither and do me”. I’ve learned throughout my years of knowing him that this could not be further from the case. He would never dream of asking a woman that. But that doesn't stop those damn eyes from screaming it. The girls flock to him but he chooses wisely. He does, however, go through girls like I go through shoes.

  Ryan laughs, hugs me tightly then pulls the new girl in front of him so he can make the introduction. “Grace this is Hayes. Hayes this is Grace.” I reach out my hand to shake hers. She extends her hand but pulls me into a hug instead.

  “Okay...we’re hugging, I guess,” I say losing my breath. I loosely circle my arms around her back.

  “I’ve heard so much about you. Ry talks about you all the time. I feel like I’ve grown up with you, too.” She says while we sway. Apparently, she is very excited to meet me.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I lightly pat her back. I have no idea how to react to this chick. “I’m going to get a drink and mingle. I’ll see you later.” She releases me and I slip past her and Ryan and head over to where Miles and Briar are standing. “I need a few drinks if I’m going to get through this night.”

  “Done,” Miles says and walks toward the stairs to flag down our private waitress. He meanders back over to us and leans on the chair sitting next to him. “How about some Moscato to liven you up?”

  “That’ll do.” He knows my drink of choice.

  A moment later a tall, thin girl with black hair pulled back in a high ponytail appears holding a tray topped with three bottles of my favorite drink and ten large wine glasses. She pours them all half full and, with Miles’ help, hands them one by one to each of us.

  Miles raises his glass in the air. “To the most amazing sister a bunch of douche-bag brothers could ever have. To our Gracie.” He takes a sip and we all follow suit like good little minions.

  I turn to Rafe and our eyes meet, reflecting the same thought. We raise our glasses toward each other and lightly tap them together. “Clinky kinky!” We shout in unison and take another sip. Well, more like giant, unladylike gulps.

  I down half of the contents in my glass, hoping the effect of the alcohol will hit me quickly to calm my nerves.

  “Let’s dance!” I grab Rafe’s hand and pull him down the back set of steps towards the dance floor. Finishing what’s my glass, I set it on a random table before we make our way through the growing crowd. We start to move to a song with a deep bassline. I let the music take me to a place I haven’t been in a while. I get lost in it. Rafe always keeps a hand on me, knowing what our surroundings are. I lose some inhibitions and begin to internally tap on the glass house I’ve built.

  I
can feel the eyes stare, but I'm not letting it bother me. There’s too much I need to let go of tonight and I'll be damned if a few pairs of eyes on me are going to ruin it.

  Two songs later, I realize that I need more liquid courage. “Let’s go back and get drunk.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice, or once really.” Rafe grabs my waist and I push through the now overwhelming crowd to the steps that lead to our haven above the dance floor.

  We make our way back over to Miles who is controlling the alcohol flow of the room, as per usual when we go to clubs. As I near him I notice he is shouting and laughing with a guy I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. They’re both facing away from me leaning over the metal railing looking over the front bar. I tap on Miles’ shoulder. I point to my now ring free left hand which is raised holding an imaginary empty glass. “Drink.”

  “Gracie! You’re not allowed to be empty on your night.” He hands Rafe and I each another glass, fuller than the first. I love how he pours drinks.

  I take a sip as the stranger turns and looks at me. All I can do is stare over the top of the glass and try not to choke on the bubbly liquid.

  Holy crap on a cracker!

  This guy is hot. Not just hot. Steaming hot. Boiling hot. Burn a hole through my fucking mind hot. My eyes will combust if I don't turn away hot.

  Every Justin Timberlake song I’ve ever heard runs through my head as I stare at him. Yep. This dude is definitely bringing sexy back. And I want some of that sexy.

  He stands a few inches taller than Miles. He’s probably just under six-and a-half feet tall with broad shoulders and a thick chest. His massive arms sport round muscles that bulge against the sleeves of his shirt, which he could do without. Tattoos wind around those big limbs. His dark brown hair is short and a bit curly but looks like he just had some hot ass sex in the back room. Those blue/grey eyes perfectly placed on his face seem like they can look straight into my soul and read every thought I have. And I swear to God that they are. His square jaw is lined with day old stubble that doesn't remotely distract from a face that could make angels weep. And those lips! Damn those lips. Those sexy lips where the bottom one is slightly fuller than the top. They’re just begging for me to cover them with my own. I want to suck that bottom one into my mouth and bite down.

  Hard.

  Hot damn, I need a cold shower.

  Wearing a fitted light grey short-sleeved Henley and dark washed jeans, he looks casual and relaxed; like an object of lust for all girls to admire and worship. Including me.

  Especially me.

  I think I can hear panties dropping all over this place. I hope mine didn't just fall to the floor while staring at him. I squeeze my legs together and will them to stay put.

  I feel my face flush. Hopefully not enough to be noticeable.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  “You must be the infamous Grace? Miles can't stop talking about his baby sis.” He extends his long arm and holds out his rather large hand to me, flashing a boyish grin that makes my lady parts tingle.

  Oh boy! Large hands. You know what that means...

  “Yeah. Umm, hi.” I take his outstretched hand. Oh...what is that? He has some kind of pull on me. It must be some kind of hot guy voodoo magic. Apparently, he also has a magic power that can turn me back into a teenager.

  A shiver dances down my spine as he leans in, still holding my hand, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. His smell is amazing. It's a mixture of woods and musk and cigarettes with a hint of...what is it? Oh, yeah...sexual heat and sin.

  Please don't faint. Please don't faint. Please don't faint.

  “You look beautiful tonight.” He takes a step back.

  Oh, my damn, he said I look beautiful.

  Take me now! Right here, right now.

  I bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning like a thirteen-year-old who just saw Justin Bieber.

  He shakes his head just slightly. “Bellezza.”

  I don’t know what the hell that means, but he can say it to me all day, every day.

  Still holding my hand, he moves his eyes from mine and sends them down, then up my body. It's a short trip seeing as I am not very tall. “Have fun and if you need anything at all just ask. I’ll take care of you.” He leans into me again and whispers in my ear, “I promise.” His breath is hot mixed with a hint of beer. I have the urge to turn my head, kiss him and suck that breath of his into my mouth.

  I stare at him with a quizzical look as I drop his hand, knowing that our two palms touching could ignite a fire from all this sexual heat.

  Why would I ask him for anything? Except maybe a long make out session and some naked fondling.

  “I own the joint. So, don’t worry about a thing. It's all taken care of.” He must have read my thoughts. “Anything for you.”

  Damn him and his sexy mind reading tricks.

  “Oh. Okay,” I stutter out.

  I have no idea what I’m doing or saying. I'm such an idiot. Rafe nudges me between the shoulder blades. “Stop being a walking awkward situation.” He whispers directly into my ear. “You’re a socialite, not a teenage groupie with a boy band crush.”

  “Damn it,” I whisper and shake my head in his direction. I take a quick breath and pull myself together. I have to keep talking to him. I want to keep talking to him.

  Small talk. Yes. That’s a good start.

  Chapter Four

  Breathe.

  Lean in.

  Breathe some more.

  Don’t hyperventilate.

  Speak.

  “So how do you know my brother?” Thank you, Jesus. I can speak like a normal person.

  High fives all around.

  “We went to Harvard together.” A few strands of loose hair fall into his eyes. I stare as he runs his hand through his beautiful locks, pushing them back into place.

  Lucky hair.

  “How come I’ve never met you before?”

  The Greek God shrugs. “Not sure. I would have liked to have met you before tonight.” He grins. I flush and I'm pretty sure my lower half has developed a mind of her own. Her lips smile at the sound of his voice.

  Stupid kitty.

  “I’m Lincoln Prescott, by the way. But the one's I'm closest to call me Linc. You can call me that if you like.”

  I like.

  Lower me smiles bigger. She's making me real uncomfortable down there.

  I give an awkward wave. “Grace Stratton.” Crap he already knows that. Think...think...say something fast to avoid the awkwardness that you're creating. “So, you own this place. It’s nice.” What the Hell is with me? Guys never get to me like this. But then again, I’ve been with Patrick so long I think I’ve forgotten how to flirt.

  Or talk.

  Or be normal.

  “Yeah.” He smirks down at me. “Thanks.” He doesn’t seem too put off by my dumbness. At least, I hope he isn't. “I bought it when I was just out of college. Thought it would be fun, you know?” A moment of silence falls between us as he looks around the bar. He brings his focus back to me. “So, Grace, what is it that you do? When you’re not being a hot little socialite, of course.”

  Oh my God. Sex on legs just called me hot. I can't stop staring and I've lost all sense of speech. I start to fidget and shift my balance from one leg to the other.

  Jesus Christ, Grace, say something so he doesn’t think you’re having a stroke.

  “I do lots of things.”

  Really...that’s what you come up with?

  I’m such a shithead.

  “Lots of things, huh?” The gaze between us breaks as he looks around his club again. “I should really get back to work. Just standing around drinking and talking to a pretty girl isn’t gonna pay the bills.” He gives me another kiss on the cheek then brings his mouth close to my ear. “I’ll be around if you need me.” He stands up straight and saunters down the steps nearest the front bar with a swagger that screams, “I got it and you want it”.

  Crap on a c
racker.

  “What just happened?”

  “I’m not sure, Rafe. I think I just had an out of body experience.” I pause a second to regain my composure, looking around to make sure Miles, or any other human for that matter, didn’t just witness my falling off a cliff moment with Lincoln. Phew. No one is even paying attention to me except Rafe, my wingman. “Let’s dance.” We head down the steps toward the dance floor, this time grabbing Briar away from Miles as we go.

  As we bounce around and gyrate our asses I notice that Lincoln is back up in our haven. This time he isn’t shouting and laughing with my brother. He’s standing alone by the railing looking right at us while holding a bottle of beer at his hip. I pause my dancing, if you can really call it dancing, and we lock eyes. The world around me stops and I lose my breath. What is he doing? Could he possibly be looking out for me, watching over me? No. That couldn’t be. I made an ass of myself in front of him. I look away and try to not turn back in his direction. It's a lot easier said than done.

  I’m successful in my attempts to not stare at him again. I glance that general direction a few times. Glancing, not staring. The three of us collectively decide we’re parched and need a break from all this movement. I’ve definitely not had enough to drink yet to forget about my crappy situation. I look up as we push our way through the crowd. Rafe's hand rests securely at my waist. Lincoln is still leaning on the railing, looking like a sex God, talking to Miles and Parker and taking long pulls from his beer. He’s smirking. Of course, he's smirking. I've made the conclusion that it's his thing.

  God damn, he’s beautiful.

  “Hey! Aren’t you Grace Stratton?” A yell from the right breaks through my thoughts.

  I whip my head in the direction of the heavy accent and see a group of meathead, Jersey Shore clones making their way towards us. Panic hits me and everything starts to move in slow motion. Rafe and Briar notice and instinctively position themselves in front of me, blocking view. They know exactly what to do. We've been in these situations before.