Free Connections by Amber Bourbon Page A

Brad.
    She took a long drink of her wine.
    Why now? Why did she have to meet Zach on a train, when she was thinking of Brad? Why had she even been thinking of Brad? Why the hell was she letting him back into her life?
    Her hands shook as she took another sip of the wine and the silence of the loft was broken with the ringing of her phone.
    She didn’t think as she threw the Mason jar to the floor.
    Shayla only felt better for a moment, before she realized she would have to clean up the glass. She reached towards the counter for her phone; she didn’t recognize the number as she hit the speaker phone icon, “Hello?”
    “ Shayla, its Brad.” His voice was smooth and masculine with that same tone that had always made her body quiver with desire in the past.
    “ What do you want Brad?” She didn’t even try to hide the frustration in her voice.
    He laughed, “You know exactly what I want Shayla.”
    She rolled her eyes, thankful he couldn’t see her right now. “What, the wife hasn’t blown you in the last decade so you thought, hey let me go find my old little mistress and see if she wants to?”
    “ Oh, Shayla” He sighed, “You should know me better than that. I never wanted to break up.”
    “ But you never wanted to leave your wife either.”
    “ Give me a chance Shayla. I never went looking for you. You came to me that day. The moment we first spoke, I knew there was something about you. I felt it again when I say you yesterday. Please, meet me in the city this afternoon.”
    Shayla closed her eyes, afraid to move, afraid of the glass and her feelings. “Where?”
    “ I’m at the studio.” His voice changed a little bit.
    “ What time?”
    “ Noon”
    Shayla felt her body quiver. “Fine, I’ll be there.”
    “ Good. I’ll see you soon Shayla.”
    She reached over and hung up, looking down at the broken glass around her as she backed away slowly, thankful she had her shoes on as she went to gather her broom to sweep up the pieces.
    She looked at the clock, she had plenty of time to show, change into fresh clothing, and gather the courage it was going to take to show up at the studio apartment she’d once shared with him. The apartment where he kept her.
     
    Her hand shook as she reached up to knock on the door. She’d opted to wear skinny jeans, a long t-shirt, loose sweater and a scarf. She knew this was not the look he was expecting.
    No, Brad would expect her in a trench coat; fishnets and high heels that would make her character throw up instead of the ballet flats she’d opted for.
    The door opened, the television was on with a football pre-game report. Brad looked at her, the disappointment visible on his face. “Come on in.”
    She looked around; it had become very much a man cave over the last few years since she’d left. “It’s different.” Shayla tried to smile, and she did slightly when she saw that the beaded curtain she’d hung still separated the bedroom area from the rest of the apartment.
    “ You took the comforts that made this a home when you left.” He stood near the fridge and took out a bottle of vodka, “Screwdriver?”
    “ Yeah, um, sure,” Shayla put her purse down on the counter, “What are you doing in the city today?”
    “ I told Claire that I had to work. Technically watching this game is work.”
    Shayla glanced and realized almost immediately who he meant; one of the pre-game reporters was one of the men from last night, one of the men she’d been a bonus for. “I’m not the same girl I used to be Brad.”
    “ I know.” He handed her the drink, that just from the look of it, screamed strong.
    She took a sip, enjoying the feel of the vodka warming her body, helping her to relax. “What do you want from me Brad? Why did you want to see me again?”
    Brad stayed a few steps away, “I still love you Shay.”
    She took a sip, trying to form her thoughts before finally speaking, “I don’t think what we had was love.”
    Brad put his drink down,