Page 31 of Not That Guy

Weston

It had been hard as hell leaving Brenner Sunday afternoon, but I’d had to go home and get ready for Monday morning. I had a deposition, two client meetings, and agreements to review, and I always used the night before to prep.

I sat staring at my computer, the files up on the screen, but my mind was miles away—specifically those miles that separated Brenner from me.

“Jesus, get a grip. You’re not a teenager.” I buckled down and took the notes I needed, read through the questions I anticipated, then took a break, checking my phone. A text from Grady popped up.

Wanna watch the game?

Have another hour of work, but come on by. Bring beer. I’ve got an empty fridge.

I received a thumbs-up emoji and checked the time. Six o’clock, and that late bagel brunch we’d devoured seemed a long way away. As did Brenner. After two days and two nights with him, my apartment was way too quiet, and despite telling him I had tons of work, I sent him a text.

What’re you doing?

To my surprise, he answered almost immediately.

Texting you. I thought you had to work.

I grinned and decided to push his buttons because it was so easy to get a reaction.

Miss me already?

You’re the one texting me. So I think it’s you who misses me.

Well, well. Brenner was learning.

I am working. Took a break. Grady is coming over later to watch the game. You could stop by if you want.

I hadn’t intended to ask him, but what the hell. He was there alone, and I was here alone, and that was stupid.

Can’t. I’ve got lots of things to do here. Still learning my way around the firm.

It was true, but I didn’t have to like it.

Fine. See you tomorrow.

Don’t pout. Maybe dinner during the week?

No maybe about it.

I tucked the phone away and tackled the rest of my files.

When the doorman buzzed to announce Grady, I saved everything, closed my computer, and stretched.

On my feet, I groaned at my aching muscles, but it was with a smile on my face.

It had been a long time since I’d stayed up all night with a lover, and Brenner had matched me with a strength I hadn’t anticipated I’d find so damn sexy.

I didn’t know what to expect with a man, but I wanted more of Brenner.

What would he feel like inside me? A deep pull low in my belly was the answer.

“Damn. For someone who never thought of sex with a man, you can’t stop thinking about it.”

I answered the door, and Grady breezed in, carrying two six-packs. “This should hold us, especially if the Mets blow their lead like they always do.” He peered at me. “What’s going on?”

Jesus, maybe it had been a mistake inviting him tonight. The man was way too perceptive.

I laughed, uneasy, and quickly shut the door. “Nothing. I’ve been working for the past several hours, and I have to switch gears, is all. Want to order pizza? And let’s put the beer in the fridge.”

“Sounds good.”

He followed me to the kitchen, and I took the six-packs from him.

“So what’d you do this weekend? Beautiful weather,” Grady said.

“Not much. Hung out mostly. How about you?” I put all the beers save two to keep cool and handed one to Grady.

“Saw my brother, and he took me to a club. I met a friend of yours.”

My brows pinched together. “You did? Who?”

“Bailey Marks.”

I smiled as I scrolled through my delivery apps to order us food. “Bailey’s a fun guy. Smart lawyer. He’s got a solo practice in the city. We saw each other about a year ago.”

“Yeah. He mentioned that.” He took a pull from his beer. “Said the last time you were trashed.”

Heat flashed through me. “Uh, yeah. Just a bit. I lost track after four Tito’s.” I grinned. “Or was it five?”

“Damn, man. That could be dangerous.”

You have no idea.

“Well, you know how it is at conferences. Pizza should be here in about twenty minutes. Want some chips?” I busied myself, pulling out a bowl and a bag—anything rather than focus on where the conversation seemed to be headed. Bailey had seen Brenner and me dirty-dancing.

Grady blinked. “Bailey mentioned you and Brenner were going at it.”

My face burned. “Going at it? What the hell does that mean?” I drank half my beer in one long pull.

“West. Take it easy. I’m not here to give you the third degree.”

“Sounds like you are. There’s nothing to talk about. Yeah, Brenner and I were going at it like we usually did. Sniping and one-upmanship. But I told you, we’ve decided that’s childish and stupid and made a pact to be civil.”

With a face full of skepticism, Grady met my eyes. “Okay. That’s good. I guess the days he spent here after the attack were productive.”

“Yeah, you could say so. Let’s go in the living room. Game should start soon.”

I grabbed the bowl of chips, and Grady had his beer. My phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number.

“Problem?” Grady asked around a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Must be the pizza delivery guy. Maybe he can’t find the place. Hello?” I knew I sounded like a dick, but I was hungry and impatient.

“Is this Weston Lively?”

“Yes. Who’s this? Are you the delivery guy?”

“No.” The yet unidentified person laughed. “I’m Noel Lane from Politiclout .”

“Okay. That doesn’t help me much. I still have no idea who you are. What can I help you with?”

“We’re a political news source, and—”

“Let me stop you right there. If this is about my father, my only response is no comment.”

“But don’t you want—”

Cutting him off again, I tried as best I could to keep a tight rein on my anger. “No. I don’t. I have no input or any insight into my father’s campaign. I’m completely removed from politics.” The buzzer rang. “If you’ll excuse me, I have someone at my door. Good-bye.”

I ended the call and answered the buzzer from the lobby announcing the pizza had arrived. After I carried it to the coffee table, I gazed down at Grady. “Another beer?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I brought them along with some paper plates, and we each took a slice. “God, I’m starving.” I eyed the set. “Damn, the Mets scored in the first inning? When the hell was the last time that happened?”

“Who was that?”

I chewed and swallowed. “Some journalist— Politiclout , I think they said they were from—asking about my father. I never speak to the press about him. Ever.” I took another slice, eating at a more human speed.

“ Politiclout is a queer news source. Why would they be calling you?”

Inviting Grady was a mistake. I possessed a damn good poker face at the office, but that obviously wasn’t carrying into my personal life. Grady knew something was going on, but without me as a willing participant, he wouldn’t push me beyond what was comfortable.

“I don’t know. Can we watch the game now?”

Grady dipped his head. “Yeah, sure.”

Of course the Mets gave away the lead they’d held throughout the game, and it was extra innings before they finally put it in the win column.

It was a little past ten when the game finished, and by then, Grady and I had finished a six-pack between us.

I was a little buzzed and ready for a shower and my bed.

“Thanks for coming by. I needed this break after staring at settlements all evening.”

He flashed a smile. “Always willing to help. I’d better go. I have a foster family coming in at nine a.m. who are considering adopting siblings. I’m hoping they go through with it.”

Curious to know more, I leaned against the kitchen island. “Why wouldn’t they want to?”

A cloud settled over Grady’s face. “Because once you adopt, you can’t give them back. And that’s always a foster child’s greatest fear. It’s why we’re so often people-pleasers or nonconfrontational.” His dark eyes glittered. “We never feel safe.”

Those words had me recalling my client Steven Culver and how desperately he wanted to hold on to the child he and his soon-to-be ex had fostered then adopted. Again, I admired his tenacity to fight for his child.

“Were you or your brother adopted?”

“Nah. Keston was an even wilder child than me.” His eyes dimmed. “Still is. Owns a tattoo parlor.”

“You, your brother, Brenner…amazing that you all managed to beat the odds.”

Grady’s good humor faded. “That’s an anomaly, as I’m sure you know. Most don’t.”

“I’m sure.”

I couldn’t imagine the terror of living with that uncertainty every day, not knowing if the bed you woke up in in the morning would be the one you’d fall asleep in that night. For all that my family was dysfunctional, I’d never had to worry about survival.

“I’d better get going. See you in the morning.”

“Take it easy.”

I cleaned up, took a shower, and went to bed, wondering what Brenner was doing.

**

At eight thirty the next morning, I sat sipping coffee and reviewing the file for my first meeting.

“Wow. Weston Lively in the office so early.” With a smile in his eyes and on his lips, Brenner strolled into my office and kicked the door shut behind him. My brows rose.

“You know what they say. The early bird gets the cock -a-doodle-doo.” I met him halfway for a kiss.

“That’s not how I learned it. Must’ve been those fancy prep schools you went to.” He cupped my ass, and I rubbed up on him.

“ Mmm .” I kissed the spot under his ear I’d learned made him quiver. “Why’re you here before nine?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he panted and pulled away. “We can’t go further.”

“You started it. And why couldn’t you sleep?” I snickered. “Miss me?”

Laughing, he moved to a safe spot in the corner of the room. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have.”

My personal phone rang, and when I saw it was my father, my head began to pound. Monday morning and my father. Two things that sucked. The ringing stopped, then began again, and I grabbed it. “What?”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, you stupid fool,” he hissed. “Since when are you a fairy?”

Stunned, my gaze found Brenner who, sensing something was going on, moved closer. “What’re you talking about?”

“I got a call from a reporter who had a picture of you walking with a man. Said his photographer spoke to you this weekend, and you said”—he paused, and his voice dropped to a whisper but his drawl became more pronounced—“he said you sucked another guy’s cock.

Is that what you are? A cocksucker? Queer?

What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re doing this to sabotage me, aren’t you? ”

Unbelievable. Everything revolved around him and his campaign.

“Is that how you think I live my life? Dreaming up ways to screw you over? News flash, Dad , I don’t.

I don’t think of you at all. I stopped caring about your opinions when I discovered you screwing other women while my mother was sick.

You pig. What makes you so sanctimonious?

It’s none of your business who I sleep with, but I’ll tell you this.

He’s ten times the man you’ve ever been. ”

“So it’s true. My only son, one of them. Thank God I’ve kept you away from Emily.”

My heart squeezed tight at his admission. “I knew it. You deliberately prevented me from meeting my little sister. What kind of monster are you? What father would keep his child from knowing her brother?”

“She’s innocent and too young to understand. I’m the best father because I’m protecting her from people like you. Paige wasn’t sure if I did the right thing by cutting you out, but she will. Your mother coddled you, and this is the result. A weakling.”

My stomach bottomed out.

“Don’t worry,” I snarled. “I don’t consider you a father, so you can forget about me. You and your young wife can have more babies. Maybe you’ll have a son you actually love.”

I ended the call and threw my phone onto the desk, where it landed with a crash. Wary, Brenner put a hand on me, but I shook him off.

“West, I—”

“Don’t. Leave me alone. I have work to do.” I couldn’t fall apart. Not in the office with everyone watching.

The fierceness in Brenner’s glare was a palpable force, reaching through my hurt and anger. I wanted him to hold me but knew he couldn’t.

“So that’s how you deal with things? By shoving aside the people who care about you?”

“Bren. I—he blindsided me.”

“What exactly happened?” Brow puckered, Brenner’s gaze remained laser focused, but his voice gentled as he took my arm again. This time I let him. “Did he find out…about us?”

I sank into my chair, and Brenner parked himself on the desk. “Remember when we passed by those two guys posing for pictures and I made a joke about you not wanting me to lick your cone?”

His cheeks fired red. “Yeah.”

“Seems the photographer—who also works for a news outlet—took our picture. Of course they connected me to my father, and with the joke I made…” I blew out a breath. “So much for keeping it to ourselves.”

“Does that bother you? That people will find out?”

Before I could answer, there was a knock on my door.

“I have a nine a.m. It’s probably about them.”

Except it wasn’t.

“West?” Grady stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but you might want to hear what I’ve got to say.”

“Already know.” I waved at him to come in. “This must’ve been what that call last night was about.” I explained it to Brenner, who shook his head in disgust.

Grady remained by the door. “There’s a blind item online about a presidential hopeful’s straight son having an affair with a man.” His eyes flickered between Brenner and me. “I’m assuming you two?”

“Surprise,” I said weakly with a rueful smile. “Or not.” Brenner raised his brows, and I shrugged. “We thought we were being smart, but Grady is smarter. He figured it out a while ago.”

Grady’s brow puckered. “Whoa, wait. How long have you two—never mind. That’s not the issue.”

“So what is? Who cares? I sure as hell don’t.” The initial panic had worn off, and I was in my I-don’t-give-a-fuck mode. I looked to Brenner, whose face reflected some concern. “But you do?”

He chewed on his bottom lip. “Not sure. I haven’t thought about it. Are you ready for what might come your way?”

“Because of my father?” At his nod, anger swelled inside me. “The last time I cared about what my father thought I was fifteen, in a hotel hallway, watching him stick his tongue in another woman’s mouth.”

“Are you sure? You were pretty angry during that phone call. Maybe there’s more there than you think.”

I picked up my iPad and slid my phone into my pocket. “I have work to do, and I presume you both do as well. My father can go to hell.”

I left them in my office and headed to the conference room, but I was waylaid by Daniel. His concerned gaze met mine. “Weston. We’ll talk later. Stop by after your meeting, please.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Did the firm have a no-fraternization policy? I hadn’t a clue, and to me, it didn’t matter. Neither my father’s threats nor Daniel’s rules would keep me from being with whom I wanted to be with. But was Brenner having second thoughts?