Shaking inside but forcing myself to be calm on the outside, I threw my leg across the bike and scooted up against his back.
When the bike roared to life beneath us, my heart raced. Brooks revved the engine then eased out of the parking spot. Before I had a chance to steel my nerves, we were hurtling down the street. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and held my breath. Please don’t let us crash, became my mantra.
“Open your eyes, angel,” Brooks’s voice sounded in my helmet.
“How’d you know they were closed?” I choked out with a laugh.
“Because your heart is pounding against my back. I can tell you’re scared. But you have no reason to be. I’ll protect you. You’re safe with me. Now, open your eyes and enjoy the freedom that comes from being on the back of a bike,” he lectured.
As we turned a corner, I leaned with him, and my eyes fluttered open. My heart stalled and skipped a beat when I caught a glimpse of the pavement rushing by a lot closer to my body than I was comfortable with. But as Brooks shifted his weight, sitting the motorcycle back upright, the pavement moved back to a safe distance, and my heart restarted.
I inhaled deeply and allowed my body to relax enough to enjoy the rush of the wind around me, the rumble of the bike under me and the press of warm hard muscle in front of me.
Brooks rested one hand on top of mine, which were clasped around his waist. He gave me a squeeze. “There you go. Now you’re feeling it.”
And I was.
All too soon the ride was over. On wobbly legs, I climbed off the bike once it was parked by the front door. Brooks wrapped one of my hands in his to help me gain my footing.
“So, what did you think? Not as freeing as dancing, I’m sure. But more freeing than riding in a car, right?”
“Oh my gosh, that was so exhilarating,” I shouted inside my helmet.
A hearty laugh reverberated in the air as Brooks took off both our helmets. “I thought you might like it. I can still remember my first time on a motorcycle. There’s nothing like it.”
Brooks handed me my purse. I dug through it until my fingers closed over the ring of keys that had fallen to the bottom. The instant the front door swung open, Lyric started yapping.
“Hey there, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” I cooed in a baby voice. I made my way to where her body vibrated with the force of her tail wagging.
The door clanged open when she rushed through it after I opened the latch. “Come on, Lyric. You need to go outside and do your business before bedtime.”
She jumped up on Brooks’s leg, excited to see him too. He leaned over and picked her up. She wriggled until she was up by his face, licking it until he chuckled and set her back on her feet in front of the door I held open. “All right, pup. Go pee.”
I stepped onto the deck so I could keep an eye on the little fluff ball bounding around in the dark. Brooks came up beside me.
“So, what happened earlier with Wilder?” He rolled his eyes. “Not with you two. I mean … uh … unless something between you caused him to get wasted on your date,” he stumbled over his words.
“It wasn’t a date. It was just dinner between friends. But I don’t really know what happened …. Someone called him from a number he didn’t recognize. When Wilder checked the message they left, he started drinking. A lot.” My shoulders slumped. “I tried to get him to talk about it, but he didn’t want to. So I don’t know what happened. But whatever the message was, it instantly changed his demeanor.”
Brooks frowned but didn’t say anything. He stepped in front of me. With each exchange of breath, his torso brushed against mine, heating me up from the inside out. We had so much unfinished business to take care of.
“Earlier when you came up from the basement then left, you seemed so sad. What was wrong?” I asked. I reached up, rubbing my fingers against the stubble on his jawline.
“I’m fine,” he whispered as he leaned down closer to me. His lips descended ever so slowly. “You smell like coconut.”
Impatient, I gripped a fistful of his shirt and used it to lever myself up to his mouth. I licked along his lips. The citrusy flavor of lemons clung to them. With a rumble deep in his throat, he flipped the switch and took control of the kiss. His tongue dove into my mouth, tangling with mine and sampling my taste.
“You taste like piña coladas,” he breathed against my mouth. “If you like piña coladas,” he began to sing and sway our bodies. He glanced at the phone he pulled from his pocket and held it up to show me. All the while, he kept his other arm anchored around my waist.
♪ Escape (Pina Colada Song) by Partners in Crime
I peeked at the illuminated screen of his phone. A few minutes to midnight. When the numbers flipped over, Brooks sang about making love at midnight. I giggled at his antics.
But Brooks wasn’t laughing. The intensity with which he peered at me felt nearly palpable. His gaze stroked the skin of my face. He unzipped the leather that still retained the scent of him and eased it from my body. It fell onto the porch with a quiet thud. The sweatshirt he’d so gently dressed me in not that long ago quickly followed the jacket. He tossed it somewhere in the direction of the open back door. Nimble fingers sank into my hair. He gripped the strands and tilted my head so he could sample my mouth again.
His hands moved to assist me when I started shoving the extra-long sweatpants down while his lips journeyed across my cheek to my neck. Those soft lips moved along the stretchy neckline of my blouse. The drag of his fingertips up my thigh made me shiver in his hold.
Chapter 14
Brooks
The sweet scent of honeysuckle surrounded me as I skimmed my nose along the smooth skin of her clavicle. I nudged the stretchy neckline of her shirt down, making more skin available for me to taste. Elastic necklines were a genius invention. I smiled against her flesh when she moaned in response to my touch.
I loved the feel of the slippery, soft material of her skirt against my fingertips. Goosebumps prickled her skin beneath the fabric. I lifted my head and took her in—her blue eyes wide with arousal, skin pinkened with want. She was stunning.
As ridiculous as it sounded, in my mind I only had one thought. Mine.
A sky-blue gaze locked on mine. Small, soft hands tugged me closer. Delicious curves brushed against me. Her scent invaded my nostrils. Everything about her shouted mine. Even the shirt she wore was my favorite color, in my favorite shade of blue. The one I’d decorated my bedroom with. It was as if she’d worn it just for me.
But she hadn’t. She’d dressed for Wilder. Not me.
The thought mocked me. I pulled back. I was desperate for her. I wanted her more than I could recall wanting anyone before—even when I was a horny, teenaged virgin. And every tiny taste of Brittany did the opposite of slaking my thirst for her. It made me delirious. Made me parched and dehydrated.
♪ I Want You to Want Me by Cheap Trick
And it hurt to imagine her with Wilder.
Drove me nuts to think about what they’d be doing now if he hadn’t passed out. I slid backward a smidge.
Brittany’s eyes clouded with confusion at my insertion of a little space between us.
I dropped her skirt hem, letting it fall back down. “Am I your consolation prize since Wilder passed out?” I asked, my voice thick with pain and rejection.
She gasped, her mouth falling open in shock. She stumbled backward, my sweatpants tangled around her ankles. Leaning down, she grabbed a handful of the borrowed pants and yanked them up her legs. “How dare you? You have no right.” Her eyes took on a wet sheen.
She pivoted and rushed back into the house, leaving me outside with the dog.
Shit. I sank into one of the lounge chairs. What the hell was I doing?
I dropped my head into my open palms, disgusted with myself. She didn’t deserve that. My logical brain knew that. It understood that she and I weren’t anything except maybe friends who’d hooked up. She didn’t owe me anything.
But my heart had no damn
s to give about what my brain’s arguments were. It only knew that it hurt to think of her sharing her smile, her laugh, her time with Wilder. And the hurt was foreign to me, so I didn’t know how to ignore it.
I should probably just go, give her some space. Give myself some space to figure out what was going on with me before I screwed up something beyond repair. Britt was Izzy’s best friend. She was always going to be in the picture in some form or another, even if it was just in the background. I had to find a way to deal with it.
I tipped my head back, so I could gaze up at the sky. The light pollution made the night sky pretty unimpressive at the moment, and nothing like the sky back home. Staring up at it provided no clarity, no answers. Definitely no peace.
Pressing my palms into my knees, I levered myself back up to my feet. Lyric had snuck up without me noticing. I swooped her up into my arms and was rewarded with a thorough face washing. “What should I do, huh, pup? I messed up. Said something stupid.” I stroked the soft fur under the fluffball’s chin.
She gave a bark then licked my fingers. I lifted her up, holding her in front of my face.
“You think I should leave, give her some space and hope she forgives and forgets? Or maybe I should go inside and apologize, maybe grovel? Should I stay, or should I go?” I hummed the catchy tune as soon as the words left my mouth.
♪ Should I Stay or Should I Go by the Clash
I argued back and forth with myself as I snuggled Lyric. Part of me hoped Britt would come outside looking for the dog and answer the question for me. But that was a cowardly way to think about it.
Drawing in a deep breath and fortifying my nerves, I quietly made my way back inside the house. Once I shut the door behind me, I placed Lyric on the floor. She slipped and slid as she scampered away, yipping with her puppy bark the whole way. I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it over one of the barstools. Then I toed off my boots.
Having decided to apologize, I decided I owed Brittany an epic one, so I stepped inside the pantry. Quickly, I scanned the shelves, filling my arms with everything I needed. Grinning, I broke off some squares of white chocolate and put them into a small bowl with a little vegetable oil. I was just guessing about how much chocolate I’d need. I didn’t know Izzy’s exact recipe, only the ingredients.
While the chocolate melted in the microwave, I poured mini pretzels, M&Ms, dry roasted peanuts, Captain Crunch cereal and Chex cereal into a bowl. Using a wooden spoon from the drawer by the stove, I stirred everything together. The microwave beeped, so I checked the chocolate. After stirring it a little, I heated it a little longer. Once it was smooth, I poured it onto the mix. I turned the mixture over several times, coating the cereal and candy pieces. Leaning over, I searched the cabinets until I found a cookie sheet. Unceremoniously, I dumped the mixture onto the metal pan then spread it out so the chocolate would harden. I sprinkled the top with some crushed sea salt and set the pan aside.
Then I snagged two wine glasses from the cabinet over the center island. I knew nothing about glassware or wine, but the glasses were pretty and looked fancy. They looked like I’m sorry with their delicate, twisted stems and their metallic blue and purple iridescent bowls. Hopefully, she’d be so captivated by the light playing on the colors of the glass, she’d be hypnotized and accept my apology.
I peeked inside the wine cooler and was instantly overwhelmed. There were too many options. White. Red. Pink? Plus, multiples of each. I was not a wine drinker. I had no idea how to pick one that would go well with our snack. Crap. I couldn’t even apologize properly. This was why I didn’t bother to do relationships or even repeats. When you don’t have sex with the same person twice, you don’t run the risk of screwing up to the point of needing to apologize. I dragged my fingers through my hair, yanking on the strands in frustration. Wine wasn’t going to work. I’d probably pick the wrong one and just make things worse.
Purposefully, I marched to the fridge. The cool air wafted over my face when I leaned inside to peruse the contents. With a grin, I grabbed two cans of Dr. Pepper. Damnit, I was still going to use the wine glasses.
I checked the tray of yumminess. It was ready, so I used the spoon to break it up into pieces, which I transferred back to the mixing bowl. Then I poured the sodas into the glasses. Satisfied with my efforts, I headed into the living room with everything so I could start up Netflix. I navigated to the episode of Sons of Anarchy Britt was in the middle of when I interrupted earlier. I considered fast forwarding to the scene she was watching, but a moaning Jax and Tara might short circuit my brain too much for me to properly apologize.
Finally, soft footsteps sounded behind me. “You’re still here?” she said, her voice hitching. I couldn’t tell if it was a happy question or a pissed off one.
Getting to my feet, I veered around the couch. My steps faltered as I moved in her direction. She was a vision with her face scrubbed clean and her body swallowed by my sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her eyes were a little red, like she’d been crying. I did that. In my chest, my heart panged with a stabbing pain.
“I’m still here. I …” I swallowed hard and reached up to cup her cheek.
She leaned into my touch.
“I was a dick, angel. And I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” I said hoarsely.
“Then why did you?” she whispered, still allowing me to touch her.
She deserved an answer. The truth. My thumb stroked her cheekbone. “Because … I was jealous. I wanted to spend time with you tonight. Take you to dinner. And I reacted poorly. What you do with Wilder is none of my business. Forgive me?” I flashed wide, sad eyes at her and poked my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.
Her forehead scrunched up in concentration. After a few tense moments, her mouth tipped up in a soft smile. “I forgive you.”
“I thought we could veg and watch some Sons of Anarchy,” I offered hesitantly. “But if you want me to go, I will.” I stepped back, letting my hand fall from her face.
Before I could get too far away, she latched onto my hand. “No stay. Please.”
♪ Stay by Maurice Williams & The Zodiacs
I beamed at her, happy that she seemed to have forgiven me. “I made you something in case my words weren’t enough.”
Her face lit up and the sweetest smile shone on me. It warmed places inside of me that I wasn’t aware were cold until now. “Your words were enough because they were honest and sincere. I felt them,” she said, squeezing my fingers laced with hers. “But I still want whatever you made for me.”
Laughter rolled out of me, loosening the knot that had tied in my gut earlier. I ambled back around the couch with her trailing behind.
“Um … I don’t think wine is a good idea,” she stammered when she caught sight of the glasses.
I handed her one of the glasses. “Good thing it’s not wine.”
She took a sip. “Dr. Pepper. My favorite.”
“I remembered from the night we met. You switched to Dr. Pepper after our first dance.”
The expression on her face said more than words ever could.
“Now to really wow you.” I snatched the bowl from the table. “I made a snack for us.”
“Is that better-than-sex-chex-mix?” she asked, wonder filling her voice.
“What?” I asked stupefied. “It’s Izzy’s secret recipe snack mix. Or at least, I hope it’s close enough. And it’s really good, but anyone who thinks it’s better than sex isn’t doing it right.” I flopped down on the couch, tugging her down with me.
I planted the bowl in my lap and tucked Britt under my arm.
She snuggled into me. “Izzy used to make this for our sleepovers in high school. But you’re right, it needs a new name.” Her fingers dug into the bowl, causing it to rub against my cock. Perhaps the location of the bowl wasn’t such a smart move on my part, but blood was rushing south so I couldn’t change it now.
We ate while we watched Sons of Anarchy. She didn’t even get annoyed when I kept up a running
commentary about all the things that outraged me about the show—and the things I loved about it too.
Eventually, we’d eaten all the mix. Britt’s eyes were growing heavy. “You’re falling asleep on me.”
“No, I’m not,” she protested. “I was just blinking.”
“Do you want me to turn this off so you can go to bed, and I’ll go home?” It wasn’t what I wanted, but if she did, then I’d do it for her.
“No. Let’s watch some more. But can we lie down?”
I swallowed hard. “Sure, angel.” I stretched out along the back of the couch. Britt settled down next to me, her head on my arm, her back pressed to my front. I grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over us.
“I should’ve asked, did you want your clothes back so you can be comfortable?” she asked, plucking at my sweatshirt wrapped around her body.
“Nah. They look so much better on you,” I said, pressing a kiss to the skin below her ear. “Now, just lie here with me and watch the show. I promise I’ll stop talking now so you can go to sleep and pretend you aren’t.”
She elbowed me gently in the gut but didn’t argue.
Chapter 15
Britt
Pale light existed beyond my closed eyelids. I hovered in that blissful place between sleep and wakefulness. And I wanted to stay there all day. I’d been dancing until I dropped every day except yesterday. It was so relaxing just lying there with a heavy warmth draped over abdomen and hip.
“Mmm,” I moaned softly when someone nuzzled my ear in that spot that drove me crazy and sent shivers of desire cascading through my cells.
Wet, warmth scraped across my lips, tickling them. I wiggled, trying to escape. The arm around my waist tightened. My eyes fluttered open.
“Lyric!” I gasped as the cutie pie moved from licking my lips to my chin.
Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4) Page 11