Miss Congeniality (17 page)

“Well, when you put it that way,” she grumbled, grabbing her bag from Clare to get her phone and make the call.

“I suggest you girls do the same.” Lance glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting Brea’s eyes before looking away.
Yikes
, she thought, hoping he wasn’t too pissed about what happened tonight. It wasn’t technically their fault, but she was sure he didn’t want to be mixed up in any additional shit.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, Lance and Brea pulled up to her house. She had helped Clare and Raquel get into their respective houses, the mood somber and their drunken buzz dissipated as the severity of the situation sank in. She walked into the kitchen, taking off her tank top as she went to get a glass of water. She knew he was behind her, but he said nothing as she leaned against the counter and downed the glass in a couple of gulps.

“Sorry.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, still too buzzed to care what she looked like.

“Brea.” He paused, clenching his jaw and swallowing deeply. “Look, I know Raquel is one of your best friends, but that shit was ridiculous.”

“Don’t start.” She jabbed her finger at him. “We were literally sitting there waiting for you to get there and Ginger came up making fun of Raquel.”

“Maybe you girls shouldn’t have engaged with her.”

“And maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. You weren’t even there, yet you just assumed Raquel was wrong. She wasn’t!” She slammed her glass in the sink.

“I’m just pointing out you can’t afford any more bad press.”

“No shit, Lance! Thank you so much for pointing out something I didn’t know, or Henry failed to mention when he lit into me about Raquel’s influence. Where the hell do you get off? You thrive on the bad press because it keeps people from getting too close to you. They’re too scared of the bad boy to bother him!”

He waved her off, trying to walk away, but she was too wound up to let him go. She grasped his forearm to keep him in the kitchen, standing in front of him. “Don’t fucking walk away from me. You know you would have been real quick to react in the same way if that was you and another guy.” She poked him in the chest for emphasis. “So you aren’t allowed to give me shit over Raquel. Besides, you could probably watch the video everyone seemed to be taking and see who the instigator was.”

“I want you to listen very carefully, and I am only going to say it once. If Raquel wants to go out and wreak havoc, I don’t give a shit, but she doesn’t get to take you with her when she does. If you’ve got a problem with it, what are we doing here?”

“Good to see you’re giving me ultimatums, but I’ll bite because I got one for you. If my friend is being abused in any way, shape, or form, and decides she wants to defend herself, I will always stand behind her. I couldn’t care less about the press; my loyalty will always lie with my friends. If you have a problem with that, then I suggest you burn the road up.”

She couldn’t read the look in his eyes; it wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t understanding, either.

“You don’t get it,” he sounded defeated. “But you will. Call me when you get it.”

“Well, call me when you want to apologize!” she screamed after he slammed the door behind him.

T
he fallout from the press was difficult. Raquel definitely got the short end of the stick; media outlets were saying it was just another example of her loose morals and she wasn’t a good example for young girls. Raquel was a wreck. She refused to leave the house unless it was to go to work, and Brea was feeling the pressure. There were reports about how she needed to keep better company, and whether her relationship with Lance was prompting her to act irrationally.
Give me a fucking break
, she thought after day three of no communication with Lance. Well, at least not any meaningful conversation. She still had to see him at work, but somehow she got through their scenes without flipping out. Raquel told Brea yesterday she was going to choke on her damn pride and Brea needed to call the boy because he was right. Stupid bitch. But Brea had an idea this last incident had shaken Raquel, and Brea knew she needed to cool it for a bit.

She wasn’t going to call him because that would be like admitting defeat, but she would text him. That would be a compromise because she really missed him, if she was honest.

Brea: So, I’m not saying you’re right, but I’m not saying you’re wrong, either

He didn’t reply right away, which made her wonder if she had waited too long. While she worked herself into a slight panic, she could picture him staring at her text, debating what to say.

Lance: Well, I’m not saying I owe you an apology, but you may have had a point, too

She stared at the screen, rereading it because she didn’t believe what she was seeing. She fought the urge to jump up and down with excitement so she decided to go sweet and see what he would say.

Brea: I miss you :(

Lance: Leave your dressing room open

He always gave those short, one-sentence commands, which was irritating as hell.

Brea: Wow, way to deflect

Lance: Leave your dressing room open

She resisted the sigh and went to unlock her dressing room.

Brea: Why do you always think I am just going to jump and do your bidding?

She was staring at the phone, waiting for his response when the dressing room door opened. He said nothing, just walked over to where she was sitting on her couch and started kissing her. She responded eagerly, having missed him over the last couple of days. Having been with him almost every day for the last couple of weeks, she missed sleeping with him at night. He pulled back after nibbling the side of her neck.

“Hi.” He smiled softly.

“Hey,” she replied, running her hands through his hair, something she hadn’t been able to do the last couple days. “Missed you,” she said when he started kissing his favorite spot behind her ear. She lifted her chin, giving him better access, and enjoyed the tiny kisses he placed on her neck.

“I missed you, too. I love being with you, and tonight I’m going to worship you.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“But this afternoon, I’m going to fuck you. I can’t wait.” They repositioned themselves as he talked; he sat up and pulled off his shirt, getting off the couch quickly to unbuckle his pants. She was thankful she was wearing a dress today, so all she had to do was lift it over her head. He placed his hands on the side of her head, attacking her lips, kissing her for a couple minutes before he helped her get into position on the couch, getting on all fours with her ass in the air. He slapped her ass, chuckling at her yelp, and slid her panties down slowly. Lance stuck one finger in her slit, rubbing it in and out a couple of times to make sure she was ready.

“I’ll make this better later,” he said apologetically.

“Lance!” He was killing her; she wanted him to have sex with her already. He loved to torture her, delaying her pleasure.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me now!” He didn’t have to be told twice.

“Yes, ma’am!” Lance quickly rolled on the condom and pushed himself in slowly while she ducked her head down and tried to push back on him. He held her steady, not letting her move.

“You want it in?” he asked her while he ran his finger along the crack of her ass.

“Yes!” He thrust in completely, grabbing a fistful of her hair. He thrust in and out, causing Brea to arch her back and meet him thrust for thrust. It was over almost as quickly as it began, and he let go as soon as he heard her come. She screamed his name, and he pushed in two more times before he came. She collapsed on the couch after he pulled out of her, rolling on her side, staring up at him. He lay down beside her, putting his leg between hers and his arms around her waist so they lay flush with each other. He put his head in her neck, inhaling her scent, and reached behind her to put the blanket on top of them.

“Give me a minute,” he said. Brea slung her arms over his neck, feeling his breathing even out. He never fell asleep right after sex, which Brea took to mean he must not have been sleeping well the last couple days. Or, at least she hoped, feeling inordinately pleased.

It took another three weeks for all the media reaction to the videos to die down, and Brea and Lance grew even closer during this time. After they made up in her dressing room, they became more inseparable than before. The merging of their lives seemed to occur seamlessly. They spent most of their time together, usually at Brea’s house, and it got to the point where he had starting leaving clothes and toiletries over there because it was easier to do so than try to go home in the morning and change. It was a bit scary to think about how much she was enjoying her relationship with him, the more time she spent with him the more in love with him she was feeling.

They were currently spending the night apart, a rarity lately, because the whole crew was gearing up to fly to Washington, DC for a promo event for the new season on
Maggie Beach
, which was starting in the next couple of weeks. Brea was determined to soak up the sights, and she had even talked Lance into extending their trip by a couple days so she could take in a Washington Wildcats football game. The Wildcats were her favorite team, and she couldn’t see herself going into the city and not watching the game. It would just be a preseason scrimmage, but when it came to the Wildcats, any game was better than none. The other reason she kicked him out tonight was she needed time. Their relationship had moved really fast, and Brea wanted to take some time to see if this was what she really wanted. She thought it was, but no one should jump into something without carefully considering everything.

Lance: Why am I not over there inside you?

Well, clearly, someone else didn’t share in the same uncertainty. Lance was more of a take charge, ‘I want what I want’ kind of guy, who made no apologies for doing so. It was interesting to watch, but it could get on her nerves when it came to them, especially given the fact her backbone seemed to dissolve the second time he issued one of his commands.

Brea: Because I have shit to do which doesn’t involve you.

Lance: Touché. Are you sure you don’t need me for something?

Brea: Nope. :) If I need anything, I always have BOB.

Lance: Who the hell is Bob?

Brea: (picture eye rolling) My battery-operated boyfriend.

Lance: Do women really call it that?

Brea: Of course.

Lance: How come I’ve never seen it?

Brea: When I’m with you, I get kind of sidetracked and tend not to need it.

Lance: I want to watch you use it.

Brea’s face flamed, picturing Lance watching her make herself come with her vibrator.

Brea: Um…no.

Lance: Ok.

Brea narrowed her eyes at his response, knowing he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

Brea: What’s the catch?

Lance: Can’t I just agree with your stubborn ass?

Brea: No.

Lance: Our relationship would be much more fulfilling if you did what I asked.

Brea: Are you serious?

Lance: As two heart attacks and a stroke.

Brea: Did you really just say that? I’m getting off here.

Lance: Fine. But before you go, I just want you to know…

Brea: Yes????

Lance: I really didn’t like the skirt you wore today.