Pressure wells up inside of me. I suck in a shallow breath. Almost. There. He thrusts into me again, strokes me again, and that pressure releases. A pleasant wave washes over me, but there's still something off to it. I can't quite relax.
Miles holds me tighter. He goes harder, deeper. His breath is heavy and he's groaning, but something is off, something is different. It's like he can see through me again.
His nails dig into my skin, so sharply I scream. He rocks into me one more time, and he comes.
He turns me towards him and presses his lips to mine. It's not a kiss as much as it's a claiming. His tongue slides into my mouth, around mine, proving that I'm his. I moan, despite myself. I melt, despite myself. That heat rushes through my body again, but I do nothing to react to him.
He steps back, pulling on his jeans and underwear in one smooth motion. "What the hell is wrong?"
I slide my straps back over my shoulders. "I'm sorry...I couldn't stop thinking about what he said."
He pulls something out of his pocket—a tissue—and hands it to me. "It doesn't involve you."
I push the tissue back into his arms. Hell, I slide my panties off my feet and press them against his chest. He bought them. He can keep them.
"Meg." He reaches for my wrist. "It's nothing."
"We made a deal. No secrets."
"If it involves you."
I step back but there's nowhere to go. I'm against the wall. "Why can't I decide what involves me?"
"This relationship isn't supposed to be complicated. We're friends with benefits."
"Friends don't keep secrets." I step sideways, towards the door that leads backstage.
"Meg!"
"You want to keep secrets, fine, but I'm not going to be friends with someone who bullshits me."
He grabs my wrist. Hard. "You're overreacting."
"No. This is a normal reaction to finding out you're being lied to."
I turn to face him. His eyes are so intense, and they're peering straight through me. I look to the ground to maintain my composure.
"It has nothing to do with you." His voice is strained.
Miles steps closer. He rubs my shoulders. It's so soft and light, I could melt. I close my eyes and soak in the feeling. His body feels so good near mine. Hell, just being around him makes me feel like I can float.
He already has all the cards, all the power over me. I can live with that. But I was clear on one thing—I'm not going to be around someone who lies to me.
And this is obviously something huge.
I suck a breath into my lungs. "You're right. It has nothing to do with me. Because we're not friends. Maybe we're still benefits, but we're clearly not friends."
I reach for the door and escape. Dread washes over me, but I push it aside. I can't be anything with Miles. Not like this.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Excuse me." I bump into someone on my way out of here. However the hell I do get out of here?
"Meg?" It's Kara.
She grabs my hand with a gentle grip. Her voice is soft, like she really thinks I'm falling apart. "Are you okay?"
I take a deep breath. According to the Meg of last week, I am totally okay, and I have no feelings for Miles beyond lust. I can't exactly tell her I'm upset because he's acting like an asshole again. "I...um...I'm just, not feeling great. I think it was the grocery store sushi."
"You want me to take you home?"
"No," I say. "You're here to see Drew. I'll call a cab."
"You seemed fine all afternoon." She eyes me carefully and drops her voice like she doesn't believe me. "Let's talk." She drags me into the women's bathroom with her.
It's clear we're in a club. Everything in this room is red and shiny, and the lights above our heads are a particularly fluorescent purple.
Kara is watching me, no doubt registering the surprise on my face, no doubt putting two and two together. I didn’t come from the bathroom. I wasn’t throwing up bad sushi. Hell, I'm pretty sure I mentioned something about a sandwich when she picked me up.
"You going to tell me what's really going on?" she asks.
"Excuse me." I dart into a stall. I do need to clean up after my experience with Miles.
"Whatever you're doing with him besides sex, it shouldn't make you feel this awful," she says.
"It's nothing like that. Just...not in the mood to be at a party. But it's fine."
"Relationships are supposed to make you happy.”
"The only meaningful relationship in my life is the one I have with you." I flush the toilet and wash my hands. "Really. I don't love anyone else. Not my parents, not some guy, not any of my other friends. You're the only person in the whole world I can trust."
Kara is sitting on the sink, playing with a tube of lipstick. Her lips are already don't you want to kiss me so bad red, and she's pouting.
"I'm not so sure we have the same definition of the word trust," she says. "Look at me and swear on your love of, um, what's that character called again. The hard drinking robot?"
"Bender."
"Swear on your love of Bender that you're okay."
"I don't love Bender that much." I slide onto the counter next to her. "Something up with Drew?"
"You're not going to distract me unless you swear."
"I swear that I'll be okay." Once I'm home, as far away from Miles as possible. "So, how about the aloof guitarist? Is he good with his hands?"
"I wouldn't know." She blushes. "He invited me to dinner after the set. But I got the feeling everyone’s invited."
"I doubt anyone is going to jump on that train. Including me. I'll say no and hang out here."
"Aren't you going home?"
I bite my lip.
"You know, Miles wrote a song about you."
My cheeks flush. "What?"
She nods. "Heard it through the grapevine that he's playing it tonight." Her gaze drifts to the opposite wall, her eyes lighting up like she's imagining her dinner alone.
Kara is my best friend, and I trust her with almost anything. Just not how I feel about Miles. I can't even say it out loud. It would be admitting to giving in to so much temptation. Just like Rosie did. A different drug, sure, but just as addictive.
I clear my throat. "What is up with you and Drew?" I fiddle with my purse and find my red lipstick. It's no good though. I already got that reaction from Miles. What I need now is a sweater set, pearls, and a pretty pencil skirt, something to convince him I'm a nice girl who deserves the truth, someone he can really trust.
"No idea. He's a good friend, but relationships are like a conversation no fly zone. You know?"
Oh, I know. I know perfectly. "Yeah."
"You want to tell me what you and Miles were doing that made you so miserable?"
"Just a fuck buddies’ quarrel. No big deal."
“Not buying it.” She moves closer. “But I’ll trust you to handle it.”
Kara fixes her makeup and mine and drags me back to the upstairs VIP section. The whole band is there, perched on these little black cubes that are supposed to be seats. The lighting is even more purple than it was in the bathroom. Thankfully, the music is too loud for any conversation.
Miles steers clear of me for the entire thirty minutes the band is up here. Then it's time for their set, and I do my best to stare at the wall opposite my eye line. Stupid wall is right above the stage, right above Miles and his gorgeous hair and his perfect shoulders.
They play In Pieces. I press my eyes closed, willing my ears to somehow close, too. But Miles's voice seeps in, his words seep in.
Lights out.
Can't sleep.
Two weeks now.
Gaping hole in my chest shows no signs of recovery.
That word, a joke, you laugh.
"Running away again, kid?"
A minute here
and then you're gone.
His pain swirls around me, mixing with mine. It's some kind of sick roller coaster, and all I can do to get through it i
s grip the edges of my seat. I hear Kara cheering next to me. I'm sure she's staring at Drew like a lovesick puppy.
I pry my eyes apart. Miles is staring right at me. Again. I can't place the expression on his face. Again. He's an enigma wrapped in a riddle surrounded by bullshit.
He can hide behind his lyrics, behind some pain he experienced once upon a time, but he doesn't fool me—
He's full of it.
"Would you like to hear something off the new album?" His voice cuts clear across the room.
Then, cheering. Every girl in this club is screaming with glee, including Kara, who’s at an ear-bursting volume. I'm sure twenty pairs of panties drop, but who am I to judge? I threw mine at the lead singer thirty minutes ago, and they're still with him.
Probably just another pair of another woman's panties. Probably as disposable as one of those damn toothbrushes.
"It's called No Way in Hell. About someone very special." His eyes are on me. No winking this time. Just that same smug smile.
The cheers are deafening. Not quite what they were for Miles, but not bad. Another player. Another expert on manipulating women to get what he wants.
Drew strums his guitar. The song starts. It's something fast and hard, and there's a desperation to the music.
Miles's voice fills the room.
Three a.m. and I can't sleep.
A common refrain, I know.
As a sentiment, it's cheap.
Someone to call, to hold,
to love. No way that word-
She smiles and I drift away—
Oh hell no.
This can't be.
No way I, no way she.
Anyone else, maybe,
but not me.
I don't do this kind of thing.
There's no doubt about it. He's singing about me. It's not like before. This song is about me. And he's singing it to me. I close my eyes, willing my ears to shut again, willing my lungs to breath, willing my heart to steady.
Morning now and I can't think
of anything but her laugh, her cries
the sound she makes when I sink
my teeth. Oh wow, those details
are mine to keep, but she's not
And suddenly I want-
Oh hell no.
This can't be.
No way I, no way she.
Anyone else, maybe,
but not me.
I don't do this kind of thing.
But none of it works. All the emotion in his voice is crashing all over me. He hurts. Somewhere deep inside him, he hurts, and God help me, I want to be the one to take that pain away.
***
After the set, the band reappears in the VIP area. Drew and Kara practically disappear. One second here, then they’re not quite holding hands on their way out the back door.
And now I’m sitting on my stupid black cube, with the other guys from the band around me. Tom has a pretty redhead on his lap. She giggles, clearly drunk or high, clearly uninterested in anything besides screwing him.
Pete shakes his head. "You do have a room."
Tom shrugs. He sips his drink, casually wrapping his arm around the redhead like she's a fancy trophy. But whatever, she looks happy; it's not my place to judge.
Miles plops next to me. He's surrounded by an aura of smugness, from his cocky smile down to the way he spreads his knees wide, like it's going to entice me to blow him in front of his friends.
Fat chance. I cross my legs and direct my attention at Tom. "I'm not in the mood to watch you suck face."
"It really is tacky," Pete says. "Almost as bad as Drew running off without a goodbye. Must be desperate."
Tom motions to me. "That's her best friend."
"I have a name, actually, and it's Meg," I say.
Miles smirks, trailing his fingers over my outer thigh. I bite my tongue to keep from reacting to his touch.
"You know what's up with them, Meg?" Pete asks.
"They're only friends," I say.
Pete nods. "Yeah, I bet. With all due respect to your friend, no way I'd do anything other than drag her to the backseat if I were Drew."
"You mean, if you weren’t too busy sexting Cindy?" Tom asks.
"Jealous ‘cause your longest relationship was three minutes long?" Pete asks.
"It was at least three hours," Tom says.
"You assholes are such awful gossips," Miles says.
"You should hear what he says about you." Pete taps something into his phone.
"You should try not getting into trouble," Tom says. "Then I wouldn't have to gossip."
Miles narrows his eyes. "Or how about this, Tom. You keep your mouth shut. Then I won’t have to use my fist to shut you up."
I have to say I like the idea of telling that smug asshole to shut the fuck up, but Tom does know something about Miles, something I want to know.
"What kind of trouble?" I ask.
Tom and Miles share a look. A look that says don't tell that stupid girl.
Miles pulls me onto his lap. My body hums. I'm still not wearing panties, and his cock is right under my sex. Nothing but a pair of jeans in the way.
I squeeze my knees together. There's no sense in flashing the other guys in the band.
Miles presses his lips against my neck, holding me the way Tom is holding the pretty redhead—-like I’m a trophy.
Miles addresses the other guys. "Don't mention this to the Guitar Prince, okay?"
"You call Drew the Guitar Prince?" I ask.
Pete nods. "You should hear what we call Tom behind his back."
"Fuck you," Tom says.
Pete points to the redhead in Tom's lap. "I'm not one to wait in line." He throws his hand over the side of his mouth, like he's going to whisper. "It's Sticks for Brains. Not the most creative, but it gets the point across."
"Guitar Prince and Miles can coast on talent. What the hell are you offering?" Tom asks.
"Sex appeal," Pete says.
"Can it, Sticks," Miles says. "We all know you're not going to fire your brother."
I look from Pete to Tom. They’re both in good shape, but that’s where the similarities stop. Tom has light features and messy hair. Pete has dark features and neat hair. They don't look like brothers.
"Don't worry about me, Meg,” Pete says. “I don't share any bloodlines with Sticks. We're foster brothers."
I bite my tongue, silently praying for any other conversation topic. Anything besides family.
Tom kisses his pretty lap girl on the cheek and sends her away. Once she's out of earshot, he leans in close and makes eye contact with Miles. "I'm not sure what you two are doing, but Drew will kill you if you fuck things up with that slutty girl, and then I'll be out a guitarist and a singer."
My hands curl into fists. "Hey, asshole, that's my best friend, and she's not slutty. She just has big boobs. And even if she was, she wouldn't appreciate you talking about her like that. So why don't you shut the fuck up?"
"Or you'll ask Miles to shut me up,” Tom offers.
Miles presses his lips into my neck. "Please ask. I'd love an excuse."
I shake my head. "I don't want to hear another word about my friend or about Drew. Got it?"
Tom nods. There's annoyance all over his face, but he nods.
Pete laughs. "Damn, you're not even getting pussy and you're whipped. Banging those drum sticks must be frying your brain."
"You play bass in am emo band, asshole. Do you actually do anything?" Tom asks.
"You still doubt that I'm the sexiest member of Sinful Serenade?” Pete asks. “Meg, back me up. I'm way hotter than your boy toy, right?"
Tom butts in before I can even fathom a response. "’Cause that whole girl you know I've got steady rhythm thing is so hot."
Pete winks at me. "Meg knows what I'm talking about."
I blush and squeeze my legs together again. Miles laughs, and he tilts me so my knees are facing away from the guys, so I'm only at risk of flashing the wall.
/> "Cindy knows what he's talking about," Miles says. "And we've heard what he's talking about in lurid detail."
"Jesus. I'm still not going to live that night down, am I?" Pete asks.
"One night? I wish it was one night. It's every night," Tom says.
Miles smirks. "Shouldn't have taken the room next to his."
Pete blushes, but there's a wealth of confidence in his eyes. "You have to admit—I last a long time."
"And he's quite creative, too," Miles says.
I’m lost. I turn to Miles. "You’re going to have to explain this to me."
Miles runs his fingertips along my thighs, right under the hem of my skirt. "Pete is a phone sex devotee."
Pete shrugs, playing sheepish but clearly proud as hell. "You'd both understand if you ever tried taking a relationship on the road."
I turn ever so slightly, so I'm looking into Miles's eyes. I can't place whatever is there. I told Miles to fuck off, but I'm here. I've never been this spineless before.
Then again, I've never felt like this before.
"Jesus, now Miles has to prove he has the skilled hands," Tom says.
"Nah, that's not how Miles does it,” Pete says. “His game is about how he's tortured inside, and he needs a girl to make him feel better if only for tonight."
"I've never seen him pull that one," Tom says.
Pete laughs. "He has a mouth and he knows how to use it."
"Is that right, Meg?" Tom asks.
I turn back to them. "My lips are sealed."
Pete laughs. "Well, I hope you're getting something out of hanging out with Miles."
"Besides VD," Tom says.
Miles whispers in my ear, "Want to get out of here?"
A rush of heat passes through me. I do want to get out of here. I do want Miles to take me home and to drag me to bed, but not like this, not with him guarding all his secrets.
I turn to him the best I can. "Only if you're going to explain what Tom was talking about. Or should I ask him right now?"
Miles grabs my hips, and he slides me off his lap. We're almost facing each other, and his expression is almost serious. The closest thing to serious I've seen in quite a while.
He nods.
I nod.
And suddenly, this is the most boring conversation I've ever been a part of.
***
Turns out, Miles caught a ride here with Drew. We take a cab to my place, touching instead of talking.
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