Page 11 of Filthy Beautiful
I was all sweaty, my yoga bra was stuck to me, and I was wearing really short shorts. I wouldn’t have dressed like this, showed so much skin, if I knew I was running into him today. But here I was.
And he didn’t evenlook.
Like would it kill him to check out my boobs or objectify mejust once?
Okay… so maybe he did check me out thatonetime. And that other one time. But those totally didn’t count. The first time, he didn’t even know it was me. And the second time… he didn’t mean it. He was just driving home his piggish point. Trying to win a stupid argument.
I growled and swiped my phone off the top of the dresser, turning up the music. Then I stomped out, slamming the door behind me like a cranky toddler.
Dumbass (noun): A person who acts like a dumb ass.
Yep, I was the definition of a dumbass when it came to Xander Rush. Unfortunately. There was just something seriously screwed up in my head—and my body—when it came to that man.
But I gave up on the poolhouse idea. I went back into my brother’s house, pissed right off.
Because Xander won that one.
He always won.
I strode through the fancy foyer, grabbed my purse from the kitchen, and climbed the wide, curving staircase to the second floor. Photos of my brother’s former band lined the wall over the stairs—and Xander fucking smirked at me from every one of them.
These days, the only signs that a very talented former rock star lived in this house were the framed photos of his former band on the foyer walls. The same ones that had been there for the last five years.
And the single framed platinum album that hung on the wall over the landing, halfway up the staircase. I didn’t even have to look at it. I knew exactly what it said.
Presented to Cary Clarke to commemorate the sale of more than 1,000,000 copies of “Stand and Fall.”
My brother had earned three more platinum albums since that one, as a music producer. But theStand and Fallplatinum album was his first, earned when he was lead guitarist and co-songwriter in Alive. Each member of the band probably had one of their own just like it.
There were four guys in Alive; my brother, Xander, Dean… and Gabe. Gabe’s parents probably had his platinum album now, mounted proudly on their wall.
And with that thought… the sadness hit, like it always did. It still did, whenever I thought about Gabe.
At the top of the stairs, I paused to glance at the closed door to my right. The one that led down the hall to my brother’s bedroom. The bedroom he hardly ever used. Most of the time, he just slept in the studio downstairs.
He did everything in the damn studio.
I turned and headed to my left, where a door stood open to the hallway on the east side of the house. The hall no one ever used but me. I was the only houseguest my brother had had in the last four years.
It was so eerily empty up here.
I walked into my room, and startled at a movement on the bed.
“Freddy!” I dropped my purse and rushed to him. My brother’s cat gave a littlemew, stretching. He’d been napping in a sunbeam on my bed, like he was waiting for me, and purred as I scooped him up in my arms.
“Ooooh, I love you, snuggle monster,” I told him, snuggling my nose into his neck fur and inhaling his clean cat scent.
The feeling was mutual. He head-butted my chin gently, kneading my arm flesh with his soft paws. He even kept his claws in when he kneaded me; Freddy was considerate like that.
“Did Cary feed you today?” He rubbed his whiskers against me and purred, so I figured he wasn’t starving. “You gonna hang out with me?” I placed him gently on the bed. He sat down on his furry butt and watched me with big green eyes as I grabbed my purse from the floor.
My brother’s three-year-old cat was a giant, fluffy, silvery-white Maine Coon with a permanent starry-eyed expression and the sweetest, gentlest disposition. He was a total cuddlewhore, and he was pretty much my favorite thing about staying at my brother’s place.
I was kind of honored he was in my room. Usually he stuck pretty close to Cary.
I sighed and looked around the room. It was the largest bedroom on this side of the house. The one I always stayed in when I slept here. Rose had prepared it for me, opening the windows to air it out and turning down the blanket on the bed. She’d even left candies on the pillow. She’d been doing that for me since I was thirteen.
There were some books on the shelves, a few clothes in the closet. I had a few toiletries in the bathroom up the hall. I stayed here in the summer sometimes, when I was home from school, but I didn’t keep many things in this room.
