Reece lifts his drink to his mouth and looks at me over the rim of the glass. I know he’s noticed me checking him out, but he doesn’t call me out. “You want to talk about the ex-douche?” he asks, his voice a harsh growl.
“Tony?” I snort. “Not particularly.”
“Humor me, Pancake. I need to understand this.”
I let out a deep sigh. I haven’t heard that name in years. He’s called me Pancake since that one morning in my parents’ kitchen when, in my overexcitement of watching a sleep-rumpled Reece lumber down the stairs, I dropped the mixing bowl on the floor, sending gooey batter flying in every direction.
Reece didn’t even falter. He walked straight up to me, wiped a smear of batter off my cheek, and brought it to his mouth. “Mmm. Banana?”
I merely nodded, frozen in place. Banana chocolate chip pancakes were his favorite back then, and I made them every chance I got.
He bent down to pick up the bowl and cleaned up while I started a new batch. We worked as a good team, even back then. And I’m wondering if we still do.
“Macey? The ex?” Reece interrupts my little daydream. “Is there someone’s ass I need to fly down to Florida to kick?”
Just thinking about Tony agitates me. Having to actually talk about him makes me boiling angry.
Reece signals the bartender. “Another of those?” he asks, reading my mood.
I give him a tight nod. “Might help.”
The busty redheaded bartender wearing a leather corset gives Reece a flirty wink, then sets the drink down in front of me with an unceremonious thud. I don’t want to explore the flash of jealousy that surges through me.
Reece is still watching me, still waiting for me to answer.
I take a small sip, appreciating the bite of the liquor as it sinks all the way to my belly and warms me. “We dated for nine months. He was between jobs much of that time, and so he moved in with me about six months ago. Last week I came home from work early and caught him banging the living daylights out of our landlord, Pinky.”
“Is Pinky a man or a woman?” he asks.
“Does it matter?” I press my lips together.
“Not really.” He shrugs. “I’m just trying to follow along.”
“Pinky is a fifty-eight-year-old woman.” There’s nothing like a slap to the face or your self-confidence than finding your boyfriend balls deep inside a grandmother. Fuck my life.
“Damn, Macey.” Reece shakes his head. “You’re beautiful and sexy, and deserve much more than that. I’d say you dodged a fucking bullet with that guy. He’s obviously a total fuckwit.”
I smile, despite myself. Maybe it’s being in the presence of Reece, or maybe it’s the liquor, but I’m feeling better than I have in days.
“Yeah. I’m just ready to move on.” And it’s the truth. I wasn’t in love with Tony, but we lived together and were in a committed, monogamous relationship, or at least I was. But that’s over now.
“And your job?” he asks.
“The station was downsizing. I saw the writing on the wall.” I shrug.
“And so you’re here.”
“I am.” I don’t know if he means here as in Crave, or here as in Chicago, but doubt creeps in. “I’m sorry I just showed up like this. My intention was to go to Cam’s for the night. Figure out my next move after that. But it’s New Year’s and I wasn’t thinking. Of course, he’s not home. I’m sure he’s out on the town.”
“He’s upstairs, actually.”
Shock slams into me. “He’s here?”
“Uh . . .”
I’ve never see Reece speechless before, but several minutes of awkward silence follow before he manages a response.
“Shit. I shouldn’t have assumed you knew about his membership here.”
“He’s a member?” I can’t even. My straitlaced attorney of a brother is into BDSM? What in the actual fuck?
“Dammit.” Reece curses under his breath before signaling the big-breasted bartender for another. “Yeah. Sorry to burst your innocence bubble.”
I take a deep, calming breath, realizing I’ve been staring at him with wide eyes and a look of shock frozen on my face. “Actually, that’s what I’m hoping you’ll help me with.”
“What’s that?”
With my pulse pounding and my hands trembling, I pull back my shoulders and look straight into his eyes. “Six years ago, you stopped things before we got to the main event.”
He licks his lips. Lips that are full and demanding, yet soft. Lips that once did wicked things to my body. “It was the right thing to do.”
Although I disagree, I don’t argue because I’m thinking over my strategy. I’m no quitter. I’ve lusted after Reece Jackson for at least a decade, and now I’m single and living in the same city as him again. After the hell Tony put me through, it’s time to have some fun. I didn’t expect to learn Reece owned a BDSM club, but if I’m honest, I have to admit it only makes me more curious. When in Rome . . .
He’s always been that unobtainable older guy—my brother’s best friend—and now the knowledge that he knows his way around a toy box only has my body humming that much more. The memories of our years together haunt me; we still have unfinished business.
I set out to prove to him that I would make something of myself after he cast me aside. But all roads led right back to where I started. Reece. I can’t help but remember the night I almost lost my virginity—or rather, my failed attempt at it.