Ride Me

by Rebecca Brooke

  The muscles in his shoulder tightened. He said nothing but glanced at me over his shoulder, a grin on his lips. We sat that way for a few seconds before I pulled my hand away and we both faced forward once again. The TV above our heads caught my attention. It had a replay of the night’s game.

  “I still can’t believe Hayward had to fight that hard for the win.”

  With his glass in his hand, he pointed to the screen. “That’s ’cause the defensive line was letting number eighty-seven run all over them.”

  “I could see Cole getting frustrated.” I chuckled. “At least if they had lost, he could go home and let Mari cheer him up.”

  Reagan laughed. “I’m sure she could.”

  From there the conversation turned back to the football game. Reagan had theories about what he would have done different with the defense had he been coaching. All was right in the world. At least until I heard it.

  “Wow. That’s a lot of sexy sitting in front of me.”

  I almost groaned aloud. Turning, I noticed a petite brunette standing there with her hands on her hips, checking us both out from head to toe. Reagan also turned to face her, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes traveled down her body. So much for it being just the two of us for the night. We were so entrenched in our conversation, I hadn’t even heard the band had started playing. Odd. Usually one of the first things I paid attention to. Then again, spending time with Reagan always made everything else around me disappear. If only the same thing happened to him.

  “Hey,” I said, not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to give her any indication I was interested. I turned back to the bar and my beer.

  Reagan didn’t follow suit, his eyes still watching her. “Thanks. I could say the same about you.”

  My stomach rolled. I glanced over my shoulder as she stepped closer and ran her finger down the muscles of his bicep.

  “Are you from around here?” She peeked at him from beneath her lashes, making sure to arch her back, pushing her breasts into his side.

  “I am. What about you?” Reagan took another sip of his drink.

  “I grew up around here.” She looked over at me. “What about you?”

  “Just moved to town,” I answered, my voice slightly clipped.

  Reagan brought his attention to me, his gaze focused on mine. I said nothing and lifted my beer to my lips. What was I supposed to say? Look at me, not her? How the hell could I explain why I wanted his attention?

  Reagan glanced back at her. “It was nice to meet you.”

  He tried to turn around when her hand grabbed his arm and stopped him. I gripped my glass so hard, I was afraid it might break in my hand. Forcing myself to relax my fingers, I pretended to watch the highlights of the game. Not that I could have told you a single word they said. I was hyper-aware of everything going on next to me.

  “Dance with me,” she said, rubbing her thumb across his bicep.

  “Maybe another time. My friend and I—”

  “Go dance with her,” I interrupted. If he wanted her, who was I to stand in his way?

  He shook his head. “No, I’m—”

  She beamed and linked her hand with his, her attention on me. “Your friend said he doesn’t care, right?”

  “Nope, have fun.” I brought the beer to my lips, like I didn’t have a care in the world. My stomach tightened. I clenched my fingers of my free hand into a fist in my lap, to keep me from reaching for Reagan and holding him there with me.

  “Great.”

  Before Reagan could protest, she had him off the stool, heading to the dance floor. The bartender asked if I wanted another round.

  “That and a double of Jack.”

  If I was going to have to spend the night watching the two of them grope each other I deserved to get buzzed while doing it. One look at the dance floor and my chest tightened. I threw back the shot, hoping to get drunk enough I didn’t care what Reagan did.

  Except for the realization I’d been trying to ignore for weeks. Somehow, Reagan had managed to slip behind my defenses. And just like before, I was falling head over heels in love with Reagan.

  CHAPTER 13

  Reagan

  What the hell was Sawyer thinking? I had no desire to dance with this chick. She was easy on the eyes, but tonight I wanted to hang out with him. Ever since I’d watched the way Madison and Chloe reacted to him at the library, I wanted him all to myself. Instead, I found myself being dragged through the bar to the crowded dance floor. She wasted no time pushing her body to mine. Not even a sheet of paper could have fit between us.

  I hadn’t even gotten her name.

  Unsure how to get out of the situation, I rested my hands on her hips and waited for the right time to excuse myself. One song. Two songs. By the third song I’d had enough. She ran her hands over every inch of my chest and ass, which did nothing for me. For the first time in my life, I felt like a piece of meat. The moment her lips touched my jaw, trying to get me to look down so she could reach mine, I jumped away from her.

  “Thanks, but I’m not interested. I need to get back to my friend.”

  Her face turned three different shades of red and for one brief moment I felt bad for the way I treated her. At least until she turned and started grinding with the guy behind her. Within seconds, she’d shoved her tongue in his mouth. Dodged a bullet.

  I stormed back over to where Sawyer still sat at the bar. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders filled out the tight black T-shirt. What the hell? The last thing I needed to do at the moment was notice anything about the way Sawyer looked. He’d just sent me to dance with some chick even after I said I didn’t want to. I was fuming. Two empty shot glasses now sat in front of him. Pissed that he served me up on a silver platter, I shoved his shoulder until he was forced to face me. “What the hell was that all about? Why would you feed me to the wolves like that?”

  His eyes were a bit glassy. “I thought you wanted her.”

  I dropped down onto the stool. “What made you think that? I said I didn’t want to dance.”

  “I saw the way you were looking at her. I didn’t want you to miss out because of me.” He shrugged.

  Something was off in his tone, but I couldn’t place it. “She’s hot. I can’t help looking. But you know her type. She wants to rack up the number of guys she hooks up with tonight. Not what I’m looking for.”

  His head perked up. “What are you looking for?”

  “I want a relationship. I did the whole let’s hook up with a different girl every few weeks. I don’t want that shit anymore. I want someone who wants to be there for the long haul.”

  Sawyer watched me for a moment, a small smile curling the corner of his lips. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to throw you to the wolves.”

  The smile didn’t reach his eyes. I thought about that as I ordered another drink. Silence engulfed the two of us like it had that first night. Something was still off with him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He lifted the bottle to his lips and I couldn’t keep my gaze off them. He had the perfect lips for kissing.

  Where the fuck did that come from?

  Sawyer’s voice sounded like it came through a tunnel until I heard him call my name.

  I shook my head to clear it. I had no idea what my problem was, but I forced myself to focus on what he said.

  “Huh?”

  “I asked what were your stats in college?”

  I answered his question, shocked at how quickly I could forgive and forget an argument. And in an instant, things were back to normal.

  Or almost normal.

  A voice in the back of my head screamed that something was off. Deep down I knew Sawyer had a reason for sending me off. Not to mention my weird ass fantasy for a minute there. I had to hope at some point I’d be able to break down his wall and figure out whatever it was that stood between us at times. Maybe then I could explain what was messing with my head.

  CHAPTER 14

&nbs
p; Sawyer

  “How many more times are we going to have to go through this song until we get it?” I snapped, my patience at an end with the bullshit, childish crap today. For the third time in a row, Monty had played the wrong transition cord.

  My mood was for shit the last few days. I hadn’t spoken with Reagan since we’d left the bar two nights ago. I pretended things were fine at the little show on the dance floor, but that wasn’t really the case. White hot jealousy had ravaged my entire system as I watched the woman press her lips to Reagan’s jaw. Had he not pushed her away, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to stay in my seat any longer. Even though we spent the rest of the night talking about stupid shit, I hadn’t been able to get his words out of my head.

  I want someone for the long haul.

  The words ate at me like a virus. Could I handle spending time with him when I knew there was a woman waiting at home to give him everything I wanted to give him? The thought alone made me want to smash something. It kept my temper just below simmering all day. And the bullshit with the song was about to push it over the edge.

  Mari gave me a quick glance over her shoulder, a brow lifted, but I took it as my signal to tap us in. With a new song it was easier to do it that way until we’d fallen in the groove where playing it became second nature. Today that groove seemed miles away. Every time we started the damn song, something stupid happened to stop us in our tracks. We hadn’t even gotten to the first chorus yet. There was only a little over an hour before we were supposed to be recording a different song for the album the studio was gearing up for release. This time it happened to be a full album, instead of the teaser set they released almost a year ago for the radio stations. At the rate it was going, this song would never make it onto an album of its own. Monty and Jackson started in on the simple introduction with Mari’s voice coming softly in to complete the melody. Just as Heath and I were about to pick up the tempo Mari burst into laughter.

  Heath stopped playing and froze, his jaw practically on the floor. “Did you just say fart instead of heart?”

  Jackson’s wide eyes followed her as she walked over and slumped on the couch trying to catch her breath only to giggle more.

  “She totally fucking said it.” Monty roared with laughter, falling off the bench.

  Heath had finally snapped his jaw shut, trying not to laugh. Under normal circumstances, I would have joined in, but the sleepless nights had taken their toll. Not that Reagan’s team at the firm helped. It wasn’t as bad when I didn’t know two of the three other members were gorgeous women. I wouldn’t blame him for looking at either of them a second time. It’s not like I would ever have a chance.

  “Goddammit!” I threw my sticks across the room. As I stormed out, I noticed everyone staring at me. Not that I gave a shit. I needed a break.

  The door slammed behind me and I moved down the hall to a room where they kept drinks and snacks for the artists. I grabbed a bottle of water, chucking the cap onto the table and drinking down half the bottle.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” Mari shoved through the door, throwing it into the wall behind.

  I slammed the bottle onto the table, water sloshing everywhere. “What the hell are you yelling at me for?” I snapped.

  Mari’s mouth dropped open. “Are you freaking kidding me? You just threw your shit across the room and you want to know why I’m yelling?”

  Heath stepped into the room, pointing at me. “You need to get your shit under control.”

  “I’m the one who needs to get my shit under control? You guys can’t get through one song, but I’m the one with the problem.”

  Mari narrowed her eyes. “We never get a song right this early and we always have a ton of laughs. The better question is why do you have a stick up your ass?”

  “I don’t. I want to get this shit done and go home.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “To do what? Stay up and write more songs? If you said you wanted to get home so you could sleep that would be one thing, but you don’t. You stay up until all hours of the night writing music only to be a tired, shitty asshole the next day.”

  I opened my mouth to let Mari have it when Heath raised both hands at us and sighed. It wasn’t often that Mari and I fought, but when we did shit truly hit the fan.

  “That’s not the problem.”

  Mari’s head snapped in his direction. “What do you mean that’s not the problem?”

  “The song writing is to get his mind off the real issue.”

  “Reagan?” she asked, although I knew she really didn’t need an answer. She knew Reagan was the only man I’d ever wanted for more than one night.

  “We need more songs.”

  Heath shook his head. “Not at the rate you’re writing them. And you haven’t let us hear any and I have a feeling what’s stopping you.”

  Mari stepped in front of me, her voice softening from earlier. “What are the songs about?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing specific. Same as our other stuff.”

  She laid her hand on my arm. “Don’t lie to me.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and paced away from them, not ready to see how bad this whole thing was affecting me. “They all have to do with him.”

  A small hand wrapped around my bicep, pulling me around to face them. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  “What am I supposed to do? He’s been my best friend since we were kids. I can’t just walk away from him.”

  “No.” She wrapped her arm around my waist. “But you can tell him the truth.”

  I leaned my chin down on her head. “What would the point of that be? He’s straight.”

  “Maybe. At least you wouldn’t be walking around like you have a hundred pound weight on your shoulders.”

  “I don’t—”

  She squeezed tighter. “Yes, you do, and I wish I knew a way to fix it.”

  “He needs to get laid.”

  We both looked up at the same time to see Heath, leaning against the table with his arms crossed over his chest, looking bored.

  “That’s not what I need.”

  “Yes, you do,” he argued. “When was the last time you even hooked up with a guy?”

  The answer sat in the front of my head, taunting me like it always did. Not that I had an intention of admitting I’d been counting the number of days I had practically been celibate since Reagan had walked back into my life. “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit. You haven’t been out or brought a guy home since Reagan showed back up.”

  “No,” I disagreed. “I haven’t been going out to protect the band.”

  “Don’t start. You’ve been sneaking away for years, even when we got bigger. Don’t act like it was for us when it was just to protect yourself against rejection.”

  I stepped out of Mari’s grip. “And what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Find a club,” he said. “I’m sure there are plenty far enough from here, no one will know it’s you with a hat in the dark.”

  “Then what? Find some random guy on the dance floor to make me feel better? Don’t you get it? I don’t want anyone but him.”

  Mari walked over and stood with Heath, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re looking at this all wrong. This isn’t about finding the perfect man. This is about sex and only sex. You don’t need a connection with the guy unless you plan on dating him later.”

  “I have no plans to do any of this.”

  Heath glanced over at Mari, then back at me. “You need to do this. Otherwise, we’re never getting another song recorded if this shit continues. You need to get laid. Hell, we all need you to get laid. And it doesn’t matter two shits about who the guy is. All that matters is that you get some. If you find someone you have more than a physical attraction to, great. If not, no big deal. That’s why they call it a one-night stand.”

  It had been forever since I’d been with anyone. First, it had to do with putting so much work into the band
to notice. Then it became about time, but neither made me completely push dating to the back corner. Now, I constantly looked over my shoulder, hoping Reagan didn’t figure out my secret. They were right. I couldn’t live the rest of my life pining after my best friend. Some day he was going to find a woman to settle down with and marry. If I kept waiting for that magical day he noticed me, I wouldn’t be able to handle when the day arrived that he found someone.

  Reagan was never going to be mine and as much as it hurt, it was the reality I needed to accept to get on with my life. There was someone out there for me, and I’d never find him if I didn’t try. The question was how did I find that person without giving away who I was?

  “Fine. You’re right, I need to get out without Reagan.” I ran a hand over my face, knowing the truth but hating the reality of it all.

  “You need to give other guys a chance,” Mari warned.

  “And how am I supposed to do that without someone recognizing me? Every day our pictures are plastered in more places. Anyone who has social media and follows us will know who I am.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m sure there are things you can do to downplay that. Like you said, they’d have to follow us.”

  “If anyone recognizes you, tell them you get mistaken for him a lot. Unless it’s different in the straight club scene, people don’t go out to figure out who is telling the truth. They want to drink, dance, and fuck at the end of the night if they’re lucky,” Heath offered.

  That made me chuckle and roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure we all have the same basic needs.”

  “My point.” Heath stood and moved to the door. “Now let’s get back in there and get these songs recorded. Sawyer has plans tonight.”

  Heath stepped out into the hall as Mari came up beside me and looped her arm through mine. “You need a night out. Leave all that shit at home tonight and just go out and have fun.”

  The first words out of my mouth were almost I’ll try, then I realized the way her eyes were sparkling up at me, she had hope for things I didn’t. Then again, I wouldn’t know until I tried. Maybe if I gave someone a chance I’d finally find the guy to get my mind off Reagan.