My Scumbag Ex's Best Friend

The Womanizer

Adelaide

Since last night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Everett's kiss.

The party was a blur. He occupied my thoughts completely, but I didn't see him again. I think he must've left when he went down the stairs, leaving me all by myself on the first floor. I thought about it right before I drifted off to sleep, and it's the first thing that popped into my mind as soon as I opened my eyes.

I shouldn't be thinking about it—in fact, I should be angrier. How dare he ignore me for days and make me feel absolutely terrible and ridiculous, then save me from Jacques' clutches, claiming that he was watching me all night, before kissing me?

But I'm not half as upset as I should be.

It's embarrassing to admit, but it's the truth.

Every time the kiss crosses my mind, warmth spreads all through me, centering in my core and making me slick between the legs. I've never been kissed like that. With hunger and desire. The way he touched me and held me...

I screw my eyes shut and force these thoughts out of my mind, but they're back not a minute later.

I turn so I'm lying on my side and let out a huff. Why did he do it? That's what I keep asking myself. I'm trying to find out what I missed during our interactions. Apart from the fact that I've always felt this unspoken tension between us from the get-go, I don't think I've ever had the feeling that he was...

What? Interested in me?

That's ridiculous to think about, all things considered.

But there has to be a reason why the kiss happened, and until I find out why, I won't rest. This is exactly why I get out of bed and purposely stride toward the bathroom.

I'm going to ask him.

Would it be easier to just brush all of this under the rug and act like it never happened? Yes. But that would only make things worse, and I have to understand what his motivations were.

If this is just a game for him, then he has to know that I'm not going to play along. Yes, I kissed him back, but I'll deal with my own feelings later. The point is that we went too far and he's the one who started it.

My heart is practically slamming against my chest by the time I get out of the shower. I pull on a sundress and tie my dried hair into a ponytail. I don't want to overdo it because I'm staying in today, and anyway, it's not like I'm trying to impress him with my appearance.

Right?

After swiping some gloss on my lips, I exhale sharply, then head out of my room. Every step I take toward his room feels heavier than the last, but I force myself to keep going. I don't want to turn back, not until I have the answers I need.

If there's one thing I learned about this whole situation with Rick, it's that the unspoken things add up and become something unbearable toward the end.

It's ten o'clock, so it's not too early to knock on his door. On Sundays, we have brunch, not breakfast, so he hasn't been called down yet. Of course, there's still a chance he won't be in, but I knock on his door anyway.

Then, I wait.

The door opens, but I expect to see him, not the busty brunette that was with him last night at the masquerade. She has her Louboutins under her arm and her makeup is all smudged. Smiling at me, she says, "Sorry, I'm just heading out."

I start packing away, heat flooding my cheeks. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

I let myself trail off and walk away. I hear her close the door behind me, but I don't look back.

What the hell?

Embarrassment just washes over me, and a sick feeling has replaced the confidence I felt moments ago. I feel pathetic even though I have no good reason to have this feeling. I'm the one who crossed the line by going to his room.

What did I expect? No, seriously?

Antoine knocks on my door—naturally, I thought it was Everett, which makes me feel even more foolish—to tell me that I'm expected downstairs to eat. I thank him and he closes the door. I can't help but wonder if he's going to Everett's room.

Heavens. I just need to forget that happened.

I calm myself down and go to the door, but when I open it, Everett is on the other side with his fist in the air like he was about to knock. He lowers it as soon as we make eye contact. His hair is dripping water on his light blue t-shirt, and he's wearing jeans, looking more casual than I've ever seen him.

"Addy," he begins in a deep, sultry voice that sends shivers down my spine, "can we talk?"

"I...Antoine called me downstairs to—"

"That can wait," he interrupts as he walks into my room and closes the door behind him. The scent of his shower gel mixed with the unique and earthy scent of his skin slams into me and makes my mouth water. He smelled the way last night, just a little better.

Goodness, what's wrong with me?

"You came to my room. What did you want to talk about?"

"Nothing," I state before correcting myself. "Nothing important."

I've changed my mind completely after seeing that woman in his room. What kind of answer did I really expect from him? He's a womanizer. He probably just kissed me for the thrill of it. And now that he knows I'm getting divorced, he has probably decided to try his luck.

Or something.

Whatever his reason may be, I'm being too sentimental about all this. What did I even want to hear him say? What reason could there be?

Nervousness tugs at my chest when Everett steps closer to me, and that intense look that was there last night returns to his eyes. "It's not nothing."

"You don't know what it is."

"I have a pretty good idea," he claims. He lowers his gaze for two seconds, then looks back at me. "Is it about the kiss?"

My face is burning. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't," I exclaim, trying to walk past him. Everett grabs my arm, stopping me, and I suck in a breath at the contact.

"Why?" he asks again, lowering his face so it's inches away from mine. "Why doesn't it matter anymore?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"I would've come to you sooner about it, but I didn't think you'd remember," he claims, finally releasing me. "Of course, it's something we have to talk about."

I fold my arms across my chest, hoping it'll help disguise my nervousness. "I wasn't that drunk."

Everett runs a hand roughly down his face, looking sideways. I take note of the angle of his jaw and how his side profile makes it look like his whole face has been carved from marble. He's really handsome. Has he always been this way?

"Addy, I crossed a line last night, and I apologize. I shouldn't have done it."

"Why did you?" I ask softly.

Something flashes across his eyes and my heart starts pounding against my chest again. But before he can answer my question, the door behind us opens and Granny barges in, saying my name. She halts when she sees the two of us standing so close, and I take a step back.

"Excuse me," Everett says, heading toward the door. "Good morning, Ophelia."

"Good morning," Granny says, surprised. Once he closes the door, she asks me, "What was that about?"

"We were just talking," I claim, not wanting to go into details. "Is everything alright?"

"Sure," she answers. Her voice has a strange ring to it. "I was wondering why you weren't downstairs. There's something I have to talk to you about. Besides, we're waiting for you to start eating."

"I'm sorry, Granny. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your lingerie business," she claims. My eyes widen, and she adds, "Since you're here, you might as well get started on it so you don't get bored with just sitting around. You were always such a great designer, and things were going so well before you married Richard. Anyway, I have someone for you to meet."

"Oh, Granny. This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you think so. I have someone, a friend of a friend, who will show you a few ateliers so you can get started. But we'll talk about this after brunch. Come on."