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Follow Me Back

Page 7

by A. L. Jackson


  I guessed nerds really were the best.

  Now, beneath his scrutiny, I felt compelled.

  I felt looser and freer than I had felt in so long. Before I could stop it, I was pushing right past the promise I’d made to myself that tonight was just for me and I was leaving everything else behind.

  The words dropped like a bomb from my mouth, my frustration and bitterness bleeding free.

  “I doubt very much my husband would approve of that.”

  I watched as the admission penetrated Kale.

  As he jerked back as if he’d been kicked in the gut.

  The breath knocked out of him as he resituated everything he’d thought about me in his head. Eyes going wide before his jaw clenched tight. Slowly coming to the realization that when I told him my life was complicated, I meant it.

  My life was in transition, a hard, painful transition. In the end, it would be the best decision I’d ever made. I just had to make it through to the other side.

  Where I was didn’t change the reality of what was happening right then, though. It didn’t change the fight I had ahead of me.

  I cleared my throat, knowing I’d made a mistake by telling him that way.

  That was the problem when you started to feel comfortable with someone. When you started liking them in a way you couldn’t allow. You started telling them things you shouldn’t trust them with. Letting them go deeper than you should.

  I tossed my fabric napkin on the table. “We should probably get going. It’s getting late. The day starts really early for me.”

  It was stupid of me to even think this was okay when I had no idea the lengths Dane might go to. I searched for a breath, feeling like a complete fool. All I’d wanted was one night. I should have known not even that was possible.

  I pushed from the small, round table, giving him my back, unable to face him.

  Not after I’d sent our night spiraling.

  Ruining it with just a dash of the truth.

  Warily, Kale stood, and I could sense him slowly signing the credit card receipt and then tucking the card back in his wallet.

  He was probably realizing that I was no princess just as I was realizing I was an idiot to hope for a knight.

  Then his hand was back on the small of my back, stealing my breath, and a tiny whimper was breaking free from my lips. His words were uttered so close to my ear that I couldn’t help but cling to the security of his hold.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said.

  He wound us back through the lavish restaurant and out onto the sidewalk. Crowds moved around us, people darting here and there to enjoy their Friday nights, laughter ringing on the Alabama night.

  I inhaled, filling myself with the calming, familiar scents of this city, the river and the trees and the thick, intoxicating scent of honeysuckle that rode the air on provocative waves.

  But I guessed it was the sheer potency of him that made me feel lightheaded—drunk—when he shocked me by wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me close.

  Citrus and spice and the lingering scent of whiskey.

  His lips were a murmur against my temple. “I know you’re getting ready to run from me, Hope. Don’t. Stay with me . . . just a little while more.”

  I could feel the confusion pressed into the lines of my forehead when I pulled back to look at his face. And the man . . . the man had let that knowing smirk climb to his pretty, pretty face.

  My knees nearly gave when he threaded his fingers back through mine.

  Tenderly.

  Possessively.

  “Come,” he said, a glint in his eyes before he darted us across the busy street. A surprised gasp ripped from my lungs, and I struggled to keep up on my too-high heels as he hauled me in the direction of the bar on the opposite corner.

  The same bar our paths had first crossed just last week that now felt as if they were being impossibly tangled together.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, the words a breathy plea.

  Hope and reservation.

  A giddy giggle rolled out right behind it.

  Because this man made me feel so free. Unshackled after years of being chained. Years of trying to change our situation and not knowing the right answer to finding that solution. Of course, my conclusion had been swift and without question that day one year ago when I’d packed our things and left.

  There are just times in your life when things become crystal clear and you know the path you need to run down, the situation you need to run away from.

  Jerking open the door, Kale sent me one of those smiles that blasted through me with the power of a hurricane.

  Annihilating.

  Exhilarating.

  Because when Kale Bryant looked at me that way?

  I felt as if I were the only person in the world.

  “I promised you a good time, and you’re gonna get a good time.”

  He pulled me into the intensity of the bar. People were packed wall to wall, voices lifted above the mayhem, the vibe so much rowdier than it’d been last Friday.

  Tonight, the band was the focus, commanding the attention with their distinct country flare. Tables were pushed back out of the way to create a makeshift dance floor beneath the risers that had been brought in to create an elevated stage.

  My heart rate latched on to the intensity. An erratic thrum, thrum, thrum that hammered and beat.

  Kale ran his hand down the center of my back.

  Chills.

  Fire.

  Heat.

  His palm hit home right above my bottom, his pinky finger just skating into the vicinity.

  Oh God.

  Maybe it had been too long.

  Because that simple touch had me flying.

  Wanting things I knew full well I shouldn’t. Not when so many things were still left unresolved.

  His mouth landed at the edge of my ear, voice lifted to be heard above the chaos. “Carolina George is playing tonight . . . they travel around the South, hitting cool venues and dives alike. Ollie, the owner here? He and the guitarist go way back, so once a month, they come to play here. People flock through that door in droves whenever they do.”

  “I take it you’re a fan?”

  He glanced around with a grin. “Think it’s safe to say just about everyone around here is. Not a whole lot not to like.”

  I patted his chest, feeling bolder in his presence. “Told you all Alabama boys are cowboys at heart.”

  He pulled me closer. “Knight. Don’t forget it.”

  “Whatever you say, Cowboy.”

  Carolina George’s singer was this stunning, dainty creature, who belted out her song at the microphone. Her face was the perfect match to her gorgeous, mesmerizing voice.

  It vibrated through the speakers, somehow both sultry and upbeat as it kept time with the quick rhythm that pounded from the drums.

  In perfect harmony with the guitar that strummed at her side.

  Clearly, it was the jaw-dropping man playing that guitar that had brought a herd of women squealing to the foot of the elevated stage.

  I could feel Kale’s playful smile when he saw me gawking. “Now, don’t go getting any ideas. Rick seems to be a little popular with the ladies. Don’t understand what they see in him, actually, when they could be looking at me.”

  There it was. That cocky arrogance the man wore so well, the words nothing but a tease that oozed from his mouth, which was still close to my ear.

  Inching back a fraction, I stared up at his face. Because while I understood Rick’s appeal, Kale was the only one I wanted to be looking at. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. I’m a one-man kind of girl.”

  I tried to make it come out light.

  Playful.

  But those blue eyes saw straight through me, glinting and sparking in the hazy glow of the bulbs that hung from the rafters. Searching me for the answer he so clearly wanted to reach in and pluck out of me.

  He set one of those big hands on the side of
my face, cupping my jaw, making me shake. “You think I don’t know that? That I can’t see it shining out of you? What do you say we grab a drink, and you tell me a little about that?”

  He said it as if he’d gone right ahead and sifted around inside me and found his answer anyway.

  I gave him the smallest nod. “Okay.”

  He ran his thumb across my lips, and my tongue darted out without my permission, grabbing the tiniest taste of his flesh.

  Oh God. How easily could I get wrapped up in this man?

  I swore I could hear Kale’s body hum with a tremor of desire. Swore I could feel every inch of him grow hard.

  Ripples of lust vibrated.

  They struck in the space between us, shockwaves of heat that blasted across my skin.

  I jerked when a man was suddenly there, clapping him on the back.

  A man who was shockingly good-looking in an intimidating, almost frightening way.

  Where Kale was tall with lean, packed muscle, this guy was a monster. Nothing but hulking muscle covered in tattoos, a mess of designs running down across his arms and hands and fingers.

  But his eyes. They were soft with some kind of unknown affection when they landed on Kale.

  “Well, well, well, look who’s here. Texted your ass fifteen times to try to convince you to show tonight, and each time you hit me back with some kind of lame excuse about being busy. And here you are. Not busy.”

  Kale cocked his head, halfway toward me, his voice a little hard. “Do I look not busy to you?”

  Burly guy laughed, drummed his fingers across his lips. “Honestly not sure what you look like tonight.”

  There was some kind of conversation that transpired between the two of them, the giant of a man giving Kale a look as if he’d caught him stealing from the till and was going to offer him a prize for doing it.

  Gaze traveling to me, the man’s eyes lit in recognition. A victorious grin pulled to his bearded mouth.

  He’d seen me before.

  That night.

  That was right.

  I’d seen him, too.

  Maybe I’d been too busy stealing peeks at the splendor of the man who right then was slipping his arm around my waist and tugging me tight against his body. But it dawned on me that this guy had been there, in Kale’s group that had been huddled around a back table.

  Kale roughed his free hand through his hair. “Hey, just be thankful I’m gracing you with my presence tonight. I did have better things to do than seeing your ugly face, but then I thought I’d introduce Hope here to one of the best bands in the South.”

  “Pssh. Ugly? You only wish you could look as good as me.”

  “Keep dreaming, man.”

  The guy stretched out his tattooed arms. “I am a dream.”

  I bit back a laugh, and Kale glanced down at me with a wide smile, gesturing to his friend.

  “Hope, this is one of my best friends, Oliver, but everyone calls him Ollie. Ollie here is the owner of this fine establishment. Also, as you can see, a royal pain in my ass.”

  Ollie’s brow lifted. “Pain in your ass? Says the guy who thinks he holds the answer to every last one of the world’s problems in the palm of his hands.”

  Amusement danced across Ollie’s face when he turned his attention my way and hooked a thumb in Kale’s direction. “This asshole thinks he knows what’s best for everyone. Always tossing out advice like we actually wanna hear it. Singlehandedly going to save the world.”

  Kale chuckled under his breath at the razzing and scratched nervously behind his ear.

  Part of me wanted to ask more about the whole saving the world thing, considering tonight he’d set out to rescue me, but Kale was already tossing out a hand of entreaty between them.

  Or so I’d thought.

  “All right, all right, man. We get it. You think I’m the smartest guy around. No need to run it into the ground. It is kind of common knowledge.”

  A scoff from Ollie. “Such a cocky bastard.”

  “Says the guy who thinks he’s a dream.”

  “Just keeping it real.”

  “Right,” Kale drew out.

  There was no holding the laughter back any longer, amusement rolling from my mouth when I finally pushed my hand toward Ollie, feeling more comfortable than I ever could have imagined. “It’s really nice to meet you, Ollie. My best friend tells me this is the place to be.”

  He shook my hand, gentler than I would have imagined he could manage. “Ahh, she sounds like my kind of girl. And you have no idea just how great it is to meet you.”

  Without releasing me, his eyes darted between the two of us. “So, tell me what you two were up to before you stepped into my house.”

  “Dinner,” I immediately answered.

  I had to wonder if it was the wrong one when Kale flinched.

  Ollie’s eyebrows shot to the sky. “Is that so?” This was all directed at Kale.

  Kale hesitated for a second before he met his friend’s demanding eye. “What, I can’t have dinner with the most gorgeous girl in Gingham Lakes?”

  Puddles.

  God, he left me a mess of gooey puddles right at his feet.

  How did he manage that?

  In disbelief, Ollie shook his head. “Nah, man, it’s no problem. No problem at all. Just comes as a surprise someone as pretty as her would want to hang out with the likes of you.”

  “Jealousy.” Kale muttered it under his breath before he looked at me, mischief playing all over his striking face. “Pure jealousy. Do you see the nonsense I have to deal with?”

  But there was no tension between either of them, and Ollie was all smiles when he stepped back, placating hands set out in front of him. “Sorry to cut this short, but duty calls. Need to go check on the band and see if they need anything. Cece’s manning the bar. She’ll take good care of you.”

  “Shit,” Kale mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

  Kale started to lead me toward the bar.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  “Seems you and I are both stepping out of our comfort zones tonight. When’s the last time you were on a date?” he basically shouted as he wove us through the horde of people jammed shoulder to shoulder.

  “Um . . . I’m not sure you want the answer to the question.”

  “What if I wanted you to tell me anyway?”

  “Then I’d tell you I was twenty-one and naïve.”

  The look he gave me from over his shoulder was one filled with guilt. Maybe regret. I didn’t know. All I knew was it twisted around my chest like a band.

  Constricting.

  Cinching tight.

  “What about you?” I hurried to say, still keeping up with him as we jostled through the crowd.

  “Twenty-two.” Somehow it sounded like a warning.

  As if he were telling me something intrinsic about himself when I’d already made my own conclusions. That I saw this devastating kindness radiating from him, and it didn’t have a thing to do with my naivety.

  Without giving more, he angled his way right up to the front of the bar, and the woman behind the bar sauntered right up. She was tall and curvy and wearing a leather corset, tattoos covering the flesh exposed on her chest and shoulders and arms.

  Oozing sex, she flashed him a red-lipped smile. “Kale Bryant. I’ve missed you. You haven’t been around to visit me lately.”

  Her eyes dropped to me when she said it. Sizing me up.

  Unease spun through my senses, and Kale squeezed my hand in reassurance. “Ah, Cece, I’m sure you’ve been keeping yourself plenty busy since the last time we ran into each other.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, smile widening with a wicked sort of glee. “Oh, you know I have, but none of these other boys are nearly as fun as you. But, clearly, you aren’t here for me tonight. Tell me, what can I get you.”

  “I’ll take my regular.”

  No. It shouldn’t have. But that stung, too. And I knew I was getting myself
in far too deep, getting attached the way I would. Wanting something that just wasn’t there, wondering how it was possible I wanted to claim him when I’d been the one to tell him I could give him absolutely nothing more than just one night.

  And a short one, at that.

  Not the kind I was sure this beautiful man was accustomed to.

  But then Kale was looking at me that way again. With that tender knowledge.

  The man my conflict.

  “What would you like, baby?”

  Baby.

  Damn him. Because I was nobody’s baby. I had to be strong.

  Fierce to face each day.

  But the only thing I felt then was fiercely vulnerable against the word, the part of me that wanted to be taken care of for once, adored, begging for it to mean something.

  “A red would be nice.”

  He looked back at her. “Get my girl some red.”

  Cece smirked, and I knew Kale was making a statement in front of her, and she seemed to mind less than I did when she poured his whiskey into an ice-filled tumbler and pushed it his way, when she jerked off the cork of the half-empty bottle of Freak Show and filled me a glass to the brim.

  “Enjoy,” she told me because, clearly, she already had.

  “Thank you,” I barely managed, taking a long sip while Kale tossed two twenties to the bar.

  It was in that moment that I realized there was so little I knew about him.

  Nothing, really.

  As little as he knew about me.

  And part of me wanted to push him away and keep him there while the other side was begging for him to turn around, face me, and let me see inside.

  Because I kept getting this feeling that he might need me the way I was beginning to feel as if I needed him.

  That maybe it was okay to lean on someone once in a while.

  He grabbed my hand again, not saying a word as he led me back through the crowd. I expected him to find a table around the dance floor, but he bypassed it, heading toward the stairs that led to the second floor.

  The voices filtering from above were raucous, even wilder than downstairs.

 

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