Crave Me; Big Brother

Rain. I have devoted every fiber of my essence to Colt Walden, poured every ounce of my heart into him since high school, when his easy grin first pulled me in during art class. He was everything back then, the guy who made my world spin with a single look. College soon kept us tangled in late-night study sessions that turned into something more, and even after we graduated, the pattern stuck. Three breakups already, each one ripping me apart.

I convince myself I'm done being the fool, that I'm stronger now, but he always returned with those smooth words and touches that made me forget the pain. "I should never have left. I don't know what came over me," he'd say with those pitiful eyes cast at me. Yet, here I am, hoping again. I know I'm addicted to the chaos he brings. Tonight is filled with buzzing tension. I don't know what it is but it has been this way since Colt dropped that message two hours ago. I stare at my phone once more, my thumb hovering over his words: 'Meet me at La Belle Étoile. 8 PM. We need to talk.' My heart races. It's the one. It must be. The restaurant I've dreamed of with crystal chandeliers and views of the city lights twinkling like stolen stars. He's never taken me anywhere this lavish. Maybe he's finally ready to commit, to slide a ring across the table and erase the doubts. God, I've waited for this. We patched things up just six months ago after his last "exploration" phase, where he vanished for weeks, only to return with that sheepish grin and hands that knew exactly how to make me forget. And, oh, how my body always bowed to his rhythmic strummings. There is no resisting charm with this man. I shake off the nerves, glancing at the clock. 7:15. There is still plenty of time. The red gown hangs in my closet like a secret weapon, silky fabric that clings to my hips and dips low at the neckline, a purchase from two months back when I hoped he'd surprise me. Tonight, it feels fated. Like it's been made right for this very moment as I slip it on. A quick swipe of crimson lipstick, heels that click with purpose, and I'm out the door, hailing a cab before I can overthink. "Calm down, Rain," I whisper to my reflection in the window as the city blurs by. He cheats, I forgive, we burn brighter. But this time a proposal? My stomach flips with hope. The cab pulls up to La Belle Étoile. I pay quickly and step out. There he is, waiting by the entrance, Colt Walden, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit, dark hair tousled just so. My stomach is doing that familiar little flip-flop it only does for him. I smooth down the front of my dress, take a deep breath and head toward him. And just as quickly as the excitement flares, it dies. There is something about his body language... His shoulders are rigid and his hands are deep in his pockets. It's not the easy smile I'm used to, the one that makes me feel like I'm the only person in his world. I shove the feeling aside. I'm just overthinking it today. Colt is fine. We're fine. It's probably just stress from work. "Colt!" I say that with a shy wave. Instead of an expression mirrored, he gives me a sharp nod and just...gestures. A flick of his hand toward the entrance and toward a table right by the window. He doesn't even move to hug and spin me around like he usually does. Should the alarm bells start ringing now? As I walk into the romantically lit surrounding, I see what-scratch that-who he's gesturing at. There's a girl already sitting there. She's staring down at her hands, nestled in the very seat I assumed would be mine, in the booth I thought we'd be sharing. My mind is scrambling for excuses because this has to be a mistake. Maybe he's meeting a colleague first? Or maybe it's a family thing and the text got crossed? My insides knot with anxiety, jostling the meal I had before getting dressed. This isn't even butterflies. This is terror. Finally as I get to the table, I look at the woman. It's a familiar face. Lila, his cousin. Well, thank God. "Hey, what...what are you doing here?" I try to sound casual but it falls flat. Even arranging my face into a non- confused smile fails woefully. This date is supposed to be between me and Colt. Just us. So why is his cousin here? Is this a family dinner I wasn't told about? Is she our chaperone? Lila offers a tiny, weak, guilty-looking smile in return. She doesn't meet my eyes. I sit down with stiff movements as silence permeates the air, thick and suffocating. Colt worsens it all by sliding into the booth next to her, thereby placing himself across from me. The first warning bell goes off in my head. He looks from her to me. "Rain," he begins and his voice is flat. All the warmth I love, all the laughter and heat...gone. "I asked you here because I need to tell you something." He pauses. "We...need to." He doesn't even wait for me to order a drink. He doesn't even ask how my day was. Never says hello. My sinking heart starts to hammer like a trapped bird against my ribs. God, no, it can't be what I'm thinking. "Lila and I..." he resumes, reaching over and taking her hand on top of the table. My gaze falls on their joined hands. "We're getting married." For the first few seconds, I fail to comprehend what he just said. Then, I bark out an ugly laugh, my eyes jumping between both of them and their hands. "Is this a prank? Colt, what are you talking about?" No one answers. "Where in the world are cousins allowed to get married? Is this some elaborate, sick joke? Except it's not funny. Where is the camera? Call the crew and call it off." I'm waiting for them to burst out laughing and say, "Gotcha!" But they don't. Colt just shakes his head. It's Lila who speaks with a voice so small I almost miss it. "We're not cousins." I stare at her gobsmacked. "What?" "We're not cousins," Cole repeats this time with a firm voice that feels like a gavel hitting finality. "My parents took her in when we were kids. We were just...raised together. We told everyone that to make it easier." And he doesn't sound guilty about it. Just like that, my world tips over and the truth slams into me. I'm dizzy with sadness. They're still talking, saying something about "loving each other" and "it just happened," something about "sorry." "The absolute, unbelievable, stomach-turning gall to bring me here and call this a date while you two sit down there and hold hands." I snap at Colt first. Before turning to his accomplice. "And Lila. The sweet cousin I spent weeks sketching designs for. All those afternoons I spent with you, drinking coffee and listening to you talk about your "new apartment, asking for my professional opinion. All that work I did for free with my best ideas just for you both to spring this up on me?" I remember pouring hours into those floor plans thinking I was doing it for love. Thinking I was helping out my future family. Because I foolishly believed that one day soon, we would be in-laws. My stupidity smacks me hard and almost sends me reeling over. Exhaling deeply, I ask, "How long has this bullshit simmered under my nose? His smile widens. "We clicked one day at an event. She's different. Exciting. I think she's the one for me." The one. After years of me being his everything? And now this "cousin" gets the ring I dreamed of? "You bastard," I whisper, standing abruptly, chair scraping. Heads turn, but I don't care. "You bring me here, in this dress, to dump me for this fling?" "It's not a fling," he protests, rising too. "Rain, sit." "No." I grab my purse, storming toward the exit, heels echoing. He follows, catching my arm in the lobby. "Wait. I still care. This could be good for us." I wrench free, facing him under the chandelier's glow. "Good? You've cheated before, but this proposing to her already?" Tears fall now, hot and furious. How did I ever get caught in his web? He softens, stepping closer, that familiar pull. " Don't be like that." "Save it." I hail a cab outside, sliding in before he can say more. As the cab pulls away, I watch him in the rearview, standing there, looking lost. But I know him; he'll call. He might have broken my heart now for some girl who rode him in ways he would have died for, however, I pride myself in knowing him better. Colt loves the taste of familiarity. He'd come back to me soon. Just as before, his adventures never lasts for long. With that hope flickering within, I lean my head against the headrest and close my eyes. Just as I begin to drift away, my phone screen lights up with a message from Emma and my heartache doubles. How do I tell her I can't hang out anymore because the proposal date turned out to be a breakup? Emma: I can't find you here. Where are you? Me: I'm sorry, I can't. Not feeling it tonight. Have fun without me. Emma: uhh, why? Me:Because Colt dumped me. It takes a few seconds before her reply comes back in caps "DON'T TELL ME YOU WANNA GO HOME AND MOPE ABOUT THAT JERK?" With a sigh, I turn off my phone, shifting my focus to the buildings as they breeze past. I'll lick my wounds alone. One thing I know for sure: Colt Walden will ALWAYS come back to me.

Rain. At the club, the bass thumps so hard I feel it in my teeth. The air is hot and smells like sweat, perfume and spilled liquor. "Rain!" Emma shrieks as soon as she spots me. "I thought you were dead," she chirps, sounding offensively cheerful. Her eyes scan my face like a worried mama bear. "I hate the frown lines on your face. Come on, let's get you something to drink so you can forget all about him." "Em, I know I promised, but I can't right now. I'm..." I trail off. What am I? Pathetic? Emotionally drained? Tired of breathing? Oh fuck you, Colt! "I'm just not feeling it.

Colt broke up with me. Again." "No. Absolutely the fuck not. I'm not letting you come all the way to mope about that asshole. He doesn't get to win, Rain. He doesn't get to ruin your Friday. You are going to get drunk, and you are going to get fucked. You will forget he exists. This is not negotiable." Sometimes I can't argue with her. I listen to her rant, and part of me knows she's right. But the other, larger part of me just wants to dissolve out of existence. "He...he was talking about getting engaged, Em. He's engaged to Lila." "He's a narcissistic child, baby. He always leaves. He just- wait what? Lila? Isn't that incest? What sick family accepts that?" "He lied to me. It was only today he told me that she was adopted by his parents and..." I rub my eyes, weary, "something about it being easier that way. I don't know, Em." "Oh, that lying son of a bitch. I'm sorry about that, honey, He'll be back as always, worming his way between your legs and you'll let him." A thud sounds in the background. "I really don't know how you let such measly-" I sigh, not ready for her sermon. "I'm already miserable, Emma." I know he'll fuck a dozen other girls, realize his adventure is empty, and come crawling back with expectations that I'll be right here waiting. But this time...I hate to be wrong. *** "I just want a drink," I yell over the music, pulling my hand back when Emma tries to drag me into the carelessly drunk crowd, now buzzing with energy. "I'm not in the mood to dance." She pouts but nods. "Okay, fine. But we are getting hammered." Together, we locate the bar. I shoulder my way through the pumping throng, dodging groping hands and spilled drinks. The bar is packed, still we manage to find two empty stools and claim it fast. I feel like a ghost, watching everyone else laugh and live while I question my early death. I'd barely gotten comfortable when a guy to my left leans in. "Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?" I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they stay in my head. "No. I'm not interested." He looks offended. "I'm just being nice." "And I'm just being honest. HELLOOO. I just got back from a breakup. Leave me alone." He mutters something about pretty girls being the most arrogant and how I'm not all that. Thankfully, he slides off the stool and disappears, leaving me to my thoughts once more. "Ouch!" Emma winces with a mock look of pain, hand over her heart. "How are you supposed to get over Colt if you keep turning everyone down with that frown?" "Oh please," I mutter with an eyeroll. I turn to the bartender, who is currently wiping down the counter and wait for him to look up. When he does, I open my mouth to order, and the words just...die. "I'll have a..." My brain stutters as I swallow deeply. He is, in a word, distracting. Dark hair, a jaw that looks sharp enough to cut through my gloom and eyes that seem to see right through me. He's noticed my pause. A slow, wicked smirk spreads across his face. "Ooh, so the bartender suits your palate perfectly?" Emma pipes from somewhere in the background. "Let me guess," he says, his voice coming out a low rumble that I feel more than hear. "A vodka soda. Double." I blink, recovering quickly from my daze. "How did you-" "You look like a woman who needs to get straight to the point tonight." He turns to grab a glass, and I watch the muscles in his back move under his tight black t-shirt. He jokes with the lady serving next to him-not flirtatiously. Just easily. As colleagues would. She laughs and rolls her eyes. He turns back and slides the drink in front of me, leaning in so close that our fingers brush against each other. "I have to be blunt," he says, his voice dropping even lower, for my ears alone. "You are, without a doubt, the most absolutely breathtaking thing I have ever seen walk into this place. It's actually a problem. I'm messing up everyone else's orders." My cheeks heat up like they've been shoved straight into a hot oven. It's so direct. So...audacious that I'm momentarily speechless. I squint at his name tag. "Um, Rhysand? Yeah...thanks, but I'm not interested in whatever it is you're offering." He winks in a deliberate motion. "I'm not offering, sweetheart. I'm just stating a fact. But if you were...I guarantee you'd leave satisfied." It's the kind of line that should make me cringe, but coming from him, it makes me want to bite my lip. Before I can think of a reply, Emma flutters out of nowhere, slamming her palm on the bar. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, having clearly seen every single part of our exchange. Now she'll never let me live it down. "He is a really handsome looking chap, Rain. One night won't hurt." I'm about to feel bad, to protest that I can't just jump on another man. But then I remember Colt's casual cruelty and the ease with which he shattered my heart. Again, I shrug. I still don't have the heart to do anything rash. "Rhysand!" Emma calls out, sounding all business. "Seven shots of vodka. And line 'em up!" He raises an eyebrow at her, then at me, and turns to pour the shots. Emma shoves one into my hand. "To forgetting useless ex-boyfriends who don't deserve us!" And just like that, she coaxes me. The first shot burns like acid. The second is easier. By the fourth shot, the heavy, suffocating blanket of my sorrow begins to lift. The music gets louder, the lights get brighter and suddenly, Emma is dragging me to the dance floor. Unable to resist, I let myself be pulled along. In a little while, we are screaming lyrics at each other, our bodies moving in sync and laughing with reckless abandon. I actually feel...okay. In the middle of a song, a tall handsome stranger taps Emma on the shoulder. She turns, they exchange words and she is whisked away. She doesn't even wave goodbye. She's off for some action. And just like that, I feel lonely again. The alcohol high wavers and the room starts to feel a little too loud. Okay, I'm officially drunk. Before I can say more, or even think more, a solid presence is by my side. It's the hot bartender guy. His shift must be over. "This hot bartender guy just wants to let you know that his offer still stands," he says, his rumbling voice sending chills cascading down my arms. "If you want him." Fuck me, I must have said that out loud. Pushing back my mortification, I look at him. Going home to an empty bed after the horrible day I had suddenly feels like a wrong idea. I think about Colt who's probably already with someone else. I look back at Rhysand who cocks an eyebrow as he waits for my decision. "Fuck it," I decide. "Lead the way." The uber ride on the way to his apartment is a blur filled with wandering fingers, messy kisses and breathy moans. The moment we cross the threshold to his apartment, I throw my hands around his neck and pull him in close. I...need...this. He laughs, it's deep and warm against my mouth, before kissing me softly on the nose. "Slow down, beautiful. You're wasted." "The hell I'm not," I snap in defense. "It was just a few shots." "You are," he counters softly, pulling me closer by the waist. "And I want you wide awake when I drive you into ecstasy." My knuckles brush his chest as I grab him by the front of his shirt. "I'm sober enough," I hiss, yanking him down to my level. "And I'm sober enough to take exactly what you're about to give me." His eyes darken. In one smooth motion, he wraps my legs around his waist, taking powerful strides into his bedroom and dropping me onto the plush mattress. Just as we begin to kiss, my phone which he'd pulled from my pocket, buzzes on the nightstand. It lights up. The name on the screen makes my heart stutter and guilt overwhelm me instantly. Colt. That was fast. Fuck, what am I doing with someone else? It's a text message: Hey, crazy day. Just wanted to formally invite you to my engagement party tomorrow night. No hard feelings, right? It's at the family house. 8 PM. Bring a date if you want. The way I go from guilt-laden to agonizingly hot and then freezing cold. Rage, pure and undiluted, burns fast and hot inside me. How dare he? He'd been with me for all my years. I gave him the best of my youth. "Bastard! Fucking bastard!" I swear vehemently. All those years I gave him waiting for him to grow up and choose me, he never bothered to even engage me. And now he's getting engaged tomorrow? To some hoe he said was his cousin? Fingers tug my face away from phone. "Is everything alr-" Clouded with anger, I lunge at Rhysand, kissing him with renewed fervor, pouring every ounce of my betrayal and fury into it. I shouldn't be using him as an outlet for my emotions, but fuck the entire male species. I only need this for tonight and then I'm done! I rub my body against his length, needing the friction to get my release. I'm still intoxicated but this...this is a new kind of clarity. In seconds, we are both naked with our clothes discarded every which way. In that haze of drunken high and building pleasure, as Rhysand poises himself above me, a BRILLIANT inspiration of revenge hits me. I grab my phone. My fingers shake and Rhysand tilts his head at me but I manage to dial Colt's number. I leave it on high speaker. It rings twice before he picks up. "Rain?" Comes Colt's voice, confused. "It's late. Is everything-" I look up into Rhysand's dark, questioning eyes with a sardonic smile. "Fuck me." He doesn't hesitate. He plunges into me so powerfully it shakes me to my very foundation. A scream tears from my throat. Half agony and the other half, extreme ecstasy. Over the sound of my own moans, I hear a strangled noise from the phone and angry mumbling before the call disconnects with a beep. As Rhysand begins to move with a deep powerful rhythm that I meet with equal force, one thought stays through it all: Revenge is best served drunk.

Rain. I wake up slowly, as the light from an unfamiliar window spreads across my face with a soft haze. My body feels heavy but deliciously sore in places I haven't noticed in months. A dull ache throbs behind my eyes and like clockwork, the memories crash in with a cold violence. Colt's face. Lila's weak, guilty smile. The sickening blatant betrayal of their phrase "we're not cousins." And oh my, Rhysand. The bartender stranger. The furious, yet beautiful blur of wine, revenge and raw desperate pleasure. "Oh fuck!" I gasp, as shame hits me like a blow.

Mortified, I stare up at the ceiling of the man whose last name I don't even know. I can't believe the reckless thing I did but I'm justified. I also have options of my own...an option that was grasping the nearest lifeline-even if that lifeline was a gorgeous dangerous stranger. I hear a soft thump from the next room. My head whips toward the sound. "Shit, that must be him." I raise the covers, mortification blowing wide when I realize how very naked I am underneath it. "My head must be a crow's nest, can't let him find me like this." Even with a line of drool down my mouth. God, why me! Panic snaps me into frantic action with only one mission in mind: I cannot let him see me this rumpled and hungover. Especially with the emotional wreckage of last night all over my face. I scramble off the bed, snatching my clothes and heels. I make a blind dash for where I think is the bathroom. Throwing the door open, I instantly collide with a solid, warm, wet wall of muscle. It is Rhysand. He's just left the shower with a towel hanging too low off his hips. Water clings to the dark hair on his chest, dripping down the sharp definition of his abs. I stumble back, completely out of breath. As he steps aside, I catch my own reflection in the mirror but almost immediately, I get shamefully distracted by the perfect curve of his butt. My pussy whimpers. 'Fuck me, again. Please.' It's the sound of his deep chuckle that startles me. "Admiring the view, Rain?" Heat floods my cheek. He leans against the doorframe, somehow managing to trap me, as a wicked grin curves his mouth. "You look like you're trying to escape a crime scene. Don't rush. You can go back to bed, or, better yet..." His eyes darken, then gleam with hunger. "We can have that bath. Together. Again." A delicious thrill shoots up my spine at the seductive words. It's intoxicating how inviting his words are. No, focus, Rain! It's just another man like Colt. That forces me to clamp down the feeling and make my tone sharp. "Absolutely not. I need to clean up and get out," I state, keeping my clothes close to cover my jewels. My bare backside can manage. "Go find a shirt and make coffee, please." He studies me with a slight knowing smile on his face before turning towards the bedroom. "Leaving already?" He calls out. "Yes. It was fun, but I have a life," I reply, pulling on my pant and snapping on the bra quickly. "A life that involves an engagement party tonight?" I yank the door open. "You're an absolute snoop." He raises his arms defensively. "Hey, I was the one used to settle scores, I couldn't help but notice the invitation. It did mention a plus one, and I happen to have a completely clear schedule today." I scoff. "That text is going to the bin." His eyes narrow in silent judgement causing the hairs on my neck to stand. Instead of pushing, he shrugs. "Fine. Your funeral. I made breakfast." I don't answer. I throw on my sheer top, grab my bag and storm out. The second I step outside his door, I realize I'm standing in a glass penthouse with breathtaking cityscapes. Even though it's a little sus for a bartender, that's not my business. The moment I turn my phone on, it blows up with missed calls and frantic texts. All from a very distraught Emma. So I call her to let her know where I am now and that I'll be home in a few. While I order for my uber ride, I stumble upon Colt's message from last night. I swipe past it, refusing to even look. The elevator chimes open. Just as the door swooshes close, a hand stops it from closing completely. "Rhysand again," he says with a cheeky smile I find annoying. "What do you want this time? There are no bathrooms in here." He walks into the elevator with fluid movements and his presence domineers the space around me. He smells edible. This can't be happening to me. He opens his palm. In there is a tiny, glittering object: my gold hairpin. Instead of taking it, I roll my eyes. "I know it's small and maybe insignificant, but I thought you wouldn't wanna miss it." Then he has the nerve to show me sincere eyes. Who is this grown man kidding for fucks sakes! "You're right, it's insignificant yet you needed an excuse to see my face one last time." He bites his bottom lip and winks. "Maybe. I'll be seeing you anytime soon?" He asks, taking a few steps out of the elevator as a couple walk in. My eyes do a full appraisal, noting the ridges of his sculpted forceps. The way he drove me to extreme orgasms floods my mind. Colt has never achieved that. I felt like a fucking virgin all over again. "Rain?" A searing signal shoots down to my core. I quickly shake off the thought. Down, girl. Stop it now. He reaches through and hands over the hairpin. As our fingers come in contact, the memory of him and his raw desire merges into a sudden, reckless plan. "Accompany me tonight," I demand, my voice surprisingly holding steady. "To the engagement party." He cocks a lazy smirk. "Oh? Why the sudden change of heart? Was it the fact that I caught you lingering too long? Perhaps a desperate attempt to make your man jealous with a suitable 'distraction'?" Heat scald my cheeks. "For fuck sakes, Rhysand. Just say yes already." "I hope I'm worthy enough to accompany you as a date." "Doesn't change the fact that you're an absolute snoop." I hiss, humiliation and anger mixing on my face. Instead of replying, he pulls me out of the elevator. "What is your problem?" I hiss as I watch the elevators close. "If I'm not careful, you'll break a nail being so melodramatic." His thumb strokes my pulse point in a maddening, playful way. As some of my anger melts away, his eyes flash with victory. I hate how he does that. *** The clock reads 7:58 PM when we pull up to Colt's family estate. The moment the car stops, the playful Rhysand, who's been telling easy jokes and teasing from the ride, disappears. I ignore it. He's doing me a favor, and the seriousness isn't my problem. We part ways after this anyway. "I have to take this," he murmurs, stepping away to answer a call on his phone, moving toward a dark column. I straighten my dress, take a deep breath and venture into the party alone. The ballroom is already full with laughter ringing out in various zones. Champagne flutes chime and the air reeks of betrayal. That's when I see him. Colt. He spots me and his hard set face immediately snaps into a mask of pure anger. He walks straight toward me with unnerving speed. "What is the meaning of this, Rain? What do you think you are doing showing up here?" He growls, pulling me harshly to the side. "And what the hell was that nonsense last night?" I blink at him, genuinely confused. "Nonsense? I'm here because I was invited." "Don't play dumb!" Then he lowers his voice after scanning our environment for onlookers. "You had the nerve to phone me while you were whoring yourself away with some...man. I heard every disgusting sound! You sounded like a railed animal! Do you know how that made me look in front of my family?" I blink, stepping back as if he's physically assaulted me. When did that happen? "I never..." I go through my call history and right under Emma's name is indeed a call I made to Colt. "Shit." I murmur. Before I can say anything else, a thick voice cuts in. "Colt, my man!" A man appears from behind and slaps his shoulder. He looks me up and down with disgust. "Is this the little whore you were going to marry before Lila opened your eyes? Good thing you woke up, buddy. You saw the light." The word-whore-echoes in the suddenly quiet corner of my mind. And then, the forgotten memory comes rushing: My hand fumbling to hit Colt's number as I had Rhysand pound relentlessly into me. I called him. Shit. I called him during. A sharp pain of insult, notification and rage explodes behind my eyes. I will die before I look like a victim. Squaring my shoulders, I match his venom with fire. "The only thing I dodged was a pathetic, lying snake who clearly can't keep his hands off his supposed cousin." I spit out. "Have a nice life bearing imbeciles." Colt's face go completely dark as his composure scatters, like he cannot believe I'll ever speak to him in that manner. He lunges a hald-step forward, his face contorted with the most dangerous look I have ever seen from him. I recoil, taking a fast step backward as the realization hits that I might have pushed too far this time. But my back hits a solid, immense wall of muscle. Rhysand. And boy does he not look pleased one bit. His eyes are ablaze with a terrifying mix of cold anger and a mocking tease. As though daring Colt to make the wrong move. The menacing look, though not directed at me, sends a shiver down my spine. Colt stops dead in his tracks. His murderous rage instantly twists into shock, then utter terror. "Rhys...?" Colt croaks. "What are you doing here?" Rhysand shifts, his body leaning slightly over mine. He wraps an arm around my waist to make the statement clear. With a majestic disdain that makes Colt look small, he delivers the final blow. "Hello, Brother."