For the Record (Record #3)(61)
Author: K.A. Linde

“Oh, so now you’re letting me go with you?” he teased.

“It’s not that I didn’t want you to come to Justin’s. I just didn’t think that you’d be interested or have time.”

“Well, I want to come. I always want to come.”

“Mind, meet gutter,” she joked. “We only have an hour before I need to leave.”

“Who said I needed an hour? No suits or ties needed this weekend. I’ll just throw some stuff in a duffel and we’ll have the other fifty-eight minutes to ourselves.”

“Whoa, there, Casanova. It might take you two minutes, but you know women take a bit longer.”

“I always focus on you,” he growled. His hand ran up her bare inner thigh.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” she insisted, skipping around him. He sighed as she scurried back into the closet.

She was quicker than she expected and as soon as her suitcase was snapped shut she was lost in Brady’s arms once more. They never seemed to be able to get enough of each other. She hoped that they never would.

About two hours later Brady pulled into the outskirts of Charlottesville. He had insisted on driving his Range Rover, since he had ridden in her car for the five-hour road trip and claimed to have feared for his life. Once he had started talking about getting her a new car, she had relented to having him drive just to get him to shut up. She knew he had been joking, but she loved her car.

The navigation system directed them through the town and to a brick town house with a line of cars as far as the eye could see. So clearly this party wasn’t going to be a small affair.

Brady looked around incredulously. “You sure you want to crash here tonight? I could get us a hotel.”

“Then we couldn’t get wasted,” she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“I could drive.”

“You missed the key word we.”

“Then I’d call a cab,” he said as if it didn’t matter which option they chose.

“Just slum it with me, Maxwell.” She walked around to the trunk and extracted her suitcase.

He immediately retrieved it from her and hoisted his duffel onto his shoulder. He looked really hot in khaki shorts and a fitted Brooks Brothers T-shirt.

“It’s never slumming with you, baby.”

They walked up the stairs and through the front doors. A half-dozen people sat in the living room, Liz could hear voices down the hallway, and at least another dozen were out on the back porch. Just then Justin came jogging down the hallway and barreled into her. He lifted her off her feet and swung her around.

“Hey, my favorite employee,” he said casually.

Liz laughed and stepped out of his reach. “You’re so ridiculous. Justin, this is Brady. Hope you have room for one extra.”

“The more the merrier,” he said and then stuck his hand out. The guys shook, sizing each other up for a second, and then released.

“Nice to meet you,” Brady said cordially.

“You too. I’m just used to seeing you as a floating head on TV.”

“Good to know I have a body attached,” he said.

“Sure is. You want a beer, man?” Justin asked, falling easily into the frat-boy host.

“Lead the way.”

Liz followed the guys back into the kitchen. She waved at a few people she recognized before exiting onto the patio, where the keg was set up. Justin poured them each a drink in a red Solo cup. Just as she went to take her first sip, a blond girl rushed up the stairs.

“Justin didn’t tell me that you were coming!” Massey screeched in excitement. She rushed over to Liz and threw her arms around her as if the last time that they had seen each other hadn’t been awkward at all. She was already really drunk.

“Surprise, sugar,” Justin said, grabbing Massey possessively around the waist and planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Liz’s brow furrowed as she took in what she was seeing. “I’m sorry . . . are you two . . . together?” She knew that they had made out at her birthday party last year, but that had been over a year ago. No way they had been together that long.

“Well, yeah,” Massey said with a shrug. She tossed her shoulder-length blond hair to one side and her brown eyes went wide. “I start grad school in like two weeks, but I moved up here right after graduation.”

“Oh right, you’re going to UVA,” Liz said, the pieces falling into place.

“Yep. Justin and I kept in touch after your birthday party. Then once I moved here, one thing led to another . . .”

“And now you’re together.”

“Yeah. God, I’m so glad you’re here. I was so fucked up at school about all that newspaper stuff. I should have never kicked you off,” Massey drunkenly rambled.

“It’s really okay,” Liz said awkwardly.

“Wait, she was the one who kicked you off?” Brady asked. He looked mystified by the drunk girl standing in front of him.

“Oh. My. God! You’re Brady Maxwell,” Massey cried.

“Yes, I am.”

“Well, fuck me sideways. Y’all really are dating.”

Liz shook her head. “I’m not sure how I could have made that more clear. And how much have you had to drink?”

Massey shrugged. “We started with whiskey and then mixed it with tequila. And then I’ve been washing it down with beer.”

Liz’s stomach protested at the thought.

“Brady, this is Massey,” Liz said as an introduction. It was strange having Brady meet the rest of her friends.

Brady politely stuck out his hand and Massey shook it. “You know, you’re way hotter in person.”

“Thank you,” he said, all signs pointing to the fact that he was trying not to laugh at her.

“I see why she fucked you on the side.”

Liz cursed. “Okay, lush, you’ve had one too many and need to start in on the water.”

“God, do you remember your birthday, when you thought that shit tasted like Kool-Aid? You were so fucking adamant about it,” Massey reminded her.

“I bet it would taste like Kool-Aid to you right now.”

“No way. I’ll never be as far gone as you were that night.”

Justin kept her from stumbling and laughed. “Chill your hot ass. I don’t want you passing out before we get the bonfire going.”

“I’m not going to pass out!”

“You did last time.”

“Whatever. It’s not my fault. We were smoking too. You know that messes me up.”