Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  Staring at her face, the tilt to her smile, I did my best to keep myself from ruining my act. “Kind of. He's... a good dancer.” He's good at a lot of things. My thoughts were not happy with that fact.

  “I guess,” she shrugged. “I think he's a better singer.”

  Touching my hand to my shirt, my brain buzzing with the memory of how he had sung my favorite song, I felt my mouth sliding into a frown. I couldn't stop it, the descent was too sharp, too fast.

  Vanessa sat up straighter, eyeing me like she had finally gotten a good look at me. “What is it, what's wrong Leah?”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled, brushing my hair behind my ears, my shoulders damp from the wet strands. “I was just thinking about how bad I am at singing.” Please believe me, I'm not ready to talk about last night.

  Setting her elbows on the table, she lifted her eyebrows at me curiously. “Is this because I mentioned how good his ex was at singing?”

  “What?” I asked, startled.

  “I never meant anything by it, I only saw her once, and I guess she was pretty good, but who cares about that? I mean, he clearly likes you, what else matters?”

  What else does matter? I wondered, but my interest, mixed with a strange part of me that wanted to pick at my wound, was intrigued. “Can you tell me about her, about why they broke up?”

  “Oh,” Vanessa gave a weak laugh. “Ugh, I don't know, do you really want to talk about his ex-girlfriend?”

  “Yes,” I said firmly. Maybe it will help me understand what I did wrong. Or how to fix it... can it be fixed?

  Sighing, she rubbed the side of her neck, leveled a serious look at me. “Honestly, I don't really know. They dated when Deacon and I went to college together, I saw her when she came to visit him out here.”

  “She didn't live here?”

  “No, she's from Kentucky, like him.” Shrugging, she waved a hand in a slow circle. “High school sweethearts, I guess.” My mouth tightened, she clearly saw me grimace. “Hey, you asked about this, I can stop if you want.”

  “Please, no, keep going. So she came to see him here?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “Maybe five, six times? The rest, he went home and I imagine saw her then. Far as I knew, they seemed fine. He never had a bad word to say about her. She seemed sweet, the wholesome sort.”

  Wholesome, I thought, not the type that has a one night stand. Not like me, I get it.

  “Anyway, they broke up... I want to say three, four months ago?”

  “That recently?”

  “You're one to talk,” she mused, tapping her cheek, deep in memory. “But yeah, he was pretty broken up about it, but before you ask, no, I don't know what made them split. Why does it matter?”

  Sliding down in my chair, I gave a mild smile in her direction. “I guess it doesn't.” She doesn't know why they broke up, what would make that happen after so many years? Did she end it, or did Deacon?

  Vanessa leaned forward, her palms flat on the table between us. “Forget about all that. You know what you should be thinking about?”

  Seeing her grin, I felt a prickle of interest. “What's that?”

  “My fashion show!” Winking, she jumped from her chair and propped her hands on her hips. “You didn't forget that was tomorrow, did you?”

  I had forgotten completely. “No, of course not. Uh, what did you need me to do again?”

  “Tonight,” she said, tugging out her phone, checking something, “I need you to look over the designs I have, the order of the runway models, and load some things into my car to take to the building.”

  “Why didn't you just leave everything at Pale Blue? Wouldn't that have been easier?”

  “No, some of it I've been finishing here on the side. Plus, the actual show is at the Vino Center, downtown. Didn't I tell you that?”

  Wracking my brain, my arms folded together across my chest. “Maybe. I don't think so. It's fine though, you just need me to be here with you tonight?”

  “Yeah, I'll be loading up the car here later, then taking it down to work to grab a few more things before dropping it all off at Vino. We need to get there by eleven, that shouldn't be a problem though, right?”

  “Right, right.” Watching her brief flicker of unease, I made myself smile as reassuringly as I could. “I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here all day, at your beck and call.”

  That seemed to relax her, she slid her phone away, glanced around the apartment. “I'm counting on you, Leah. I'm really glad you're helping me, I'm actually super nervous about this whole show. I have an appointment with Greg for a massage in a few hours, he said he'd calm me down.”

  “Until then,” I said, standing, cracking my back. “Want to show me the plans for this whole big event?”

  Grabbing me by the shoulders, she leaned down and almost touched my nose with her own. “Did you even have to ask?”

  Chapter 16.

  ––––––––

  Stretched out on the couch, I studied the cracks in the ceiling with the most interest I could manage. It was all I could do, my mind wanted to wander, and with Vanessa out getting her massage, I had only myself to distract my roiling thoughts.

  We'd spent hours going over her designs, her layout, the worries and paranoia she had over what would happen if a model made a mistake.

  It was exactly what I needed.

  However, after a quick lunch in which I hardly ate anything, she'd run off to meet with Greg, leaving me to my own devices. With nothing to work on, no real way to stay busy, I had ended up lying down, practicing not blinking. Whenever I closed my lids, I saw that handsome, uneasy face.

  It's seven now, she'll probably be back by eight, then we can pack things up and I'll have something to keep me distracted.

  In my purse, my phone vibrated. The sound was distant, but with nothing else but the noise of my thoughts, I heard it clearly. Hmn, probably Vanessa. Rolling on my side, I dug into the bag on the floor, pulling my cell into the light.

  Deacon?

  His message was short, it set my heart thumping, belly convulsing.

  'Can we talk?'

  Staring, I felt my hand trembling, a rush of fear and excitement hitting me hard. What do I say? Do I want to talk to him yet? Biting my lower lip, I attempted to type several replies, erasing each one. Finally, I sat up, hunching over my phone, focusing intensely. My eventual reply was blunt.

  'Yes.'

  It was the truth. As terrified as I was of everything, my gut desired a chance at hearing what he had to say. Fighting the urge to change into something nicer, I threw on my sweater, leaving it unzipped over the band shirt. My messy hair was tossed into a ponytail, pale skin free of makeup.

  Let him see me as I am. Drained, frustrated, and done trying to be someone I'm not, especially if it means he gives up on me in the end after all my attempts.

  Standing, I grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling a quick note to leave behind for Vanessa on the table. I don't want to text her, she's probably enjoying that massage right now. Plus, I'll probably be back before she is, then I can just chuck this before she sees it.

  It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, the knock on the door came before I was prepared. No, I realized, even if I had an entire day, I wouldn't be ready for this.

  Turning the knob, I found Deacon standing outside, his hands deep in the pockets of the jacket I had returned. “Want to go for a walk?” He asked, his tone neutral.

  “Alright.”

  He stepped back as I moved through the doorway, giving me a wide berth. Closing the door, I left it unlocked, expecting to come back soon enough. “Where do you want to go?” I said, glancing at him, noticing how much trouble he was having looking at me.

  “Just around,” he shrugged, leading the way down the walk. The day hadn't faded yet, but the orange of the sun was melting into plum, the early fall night wanting to claim control. Side by side, we strolled across the sidewalk, leaves skidding on the ground by our feet.

  Neither of
us seemed willing to speak, though I was sure we each had things we wished to say. I knew I did, and as the silence became too much, I stopped on the quiet street, standing near a tree that had torn up a section of the hunched sidewalk. “Deacon,” I began, my courage waning the moment he, too, stopped walking. His eyes fell on me, curious, but not surprised. He expected me to speak first, I realized. “You said you wanted to talk,” I went on, my frustration rippling under the surface. “So stop this, and talk to me.”

  His hands, still hidden in his jacket, seemed to tug it tightly down to his sides. “What do you want me to talk about?”

  “Tell me—tell me what I did wrong!” I knew it then, I knew I couldn't keep my anger at bay. His face reflected my own shock, yet I couldn't stop, not after that. “Talk to me, tell me how I messed up! Why don't you like me, why do you keep tricking me into thinking you do, only to then do stuff like... like this morning,” I said, fists twitching by my hips.

  “What did I do this morning?” He asked gently, emotionless.

  “You know!” My shout echoed down the street, it made him wince. I no longer cared, I'd let this burn in me far too long. “You know what you did, don't act like you don't! You told me you wanted to back off, that last night was a mistake!”

  Deacon was quiet, watching me with wide eyes, his body as still as the tree beside us. “That's what you thought I said, that it was a mistake? Leah, no, that wasn't... I mean, yes, how it all happened last night wasn't—”

  “Wasn't how a 'good' person should act!” I spat, cutting him off. “You're not like that, you said. Right? You're better than me, you think I'm garbage for sleeping with you so soon!” The pressure behind my skull pounded, heat prickling my scalp as I fought back tears. “I'm no good for you, that's true, isn't it? I'm not some sweet, innocent blonde choir girl!”

  At that, Deacon gawked, his mouth falling open. Inside, I felt a flicker of guilty joy. I'm hurting you the way you hurt me, aren't I?

  “Who told you about Bethany?”

  “Vanessa did,” I scowled. “But it doesn't matter, the point is, I know the type of girl you're into.”

  “You don't know anything about that, or me,” he said, chill, disturbingly calm.

  “No!” My face burned, salty water finally starting to pool at the corners of my eyes. “You don't know anything about me!”

  “Because you refuse to tell me anything!” His shout startled me, green eyes flashing gold while his hands flew from his pockets. “Not once, you keep hiding everything about yourself hidden! Why? Why do you need to be such a mystery, Leah?”

  Shaking my head rapidly, my hair whipped on my neck, nails digging into scabbed palms. “I'm not—I'm just trying to... You wouldn't...”

  “What?” He stepped forward, running his hands over his head. “What do you think is such a big deal?”

  Looking into his face, the hard shape of his mouth, the way his brows were furrowing so deep, I hesitated. He wants to know, okay, why does it even matter anymore? This is already such a ruined mess.

  “Fine. You want to know what I've been trying to keep from you? I'll just tell you, it doesn't... who cares, what difference does it make now?” My laugh was jaded, empty, warm tears soaking my cheeks. “My whole stupid life is a big deal. You talk about education, and family, and all these values of yours...”

  “Leah,” he said softly, but I shook my head, looking away.

  “No, let me finish. You wanted to know.” I watched his hands fall weakly to his sides. “Your biggest problem is your dad wanted you to be a doctor. How terrible for you. I spent my childhood picking up burning cigarettes my father would drop when he fell asleep, drunk and oblivious. I kept our house from going up in flames, killing me and my sister and my parents, so many times!”

  My smile was pained, I pressed on through my blurry vision. “We had no money, we were the family people kept their kids from going near. My parents, they just... they abandoned me. I did stupid things, to cope, to live! I struggled so hard, and yes, it's left a mark on me,” I mumbled sourly. “Deacon, when I met you, I knew right away,” I said, wiping at my face, stuffed up and congested from crying. “I knew you were too good for me. My last boyfriend, he did—I let him...” No, not that, I can't tell him about that. Let me keep that one regret to myself, that one part of my messed up history, give me that one dignity.

  Tossing back my head, I inhaled deeply, trying to get a grip on my roller coaster of feelings. “I'm a weak, stupid girl who fails at everything! I didn't even finish college, I lied to you about that! And I didn't get the job at Pale Blue, either. I never get anything, or anywhere, I just fail.” Closing my eyes tightly, I took a moment to breathe, the explosive nature of baring this to him leaving me feeling strangely relieved.

  Now it's over, I don't need to wonder anymore if he'll give me a chance. I have my answer.

  Opening my eyes, I lowered my chin and looked at him, ready for him to yell at me, to tell me how disappointed he was, to say anything that would make it clear what I already knew; we were finished.

  Pushing me against the tree, Deacon held my wet face, kissing me with fervor. What? I thought, too shocked to respond, my body going limp. His arms coiled around, embracing me to keep me from falling onto the cracked cement. His mouth was warm, full of need, a passion I never imagined.

  He broke free, thumbs rubbing the tears from the corners of my eyes, his own green orbs fixed on me, unblinking in the fading day. “Why?” I blurted, hushed and raw. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “You never let me finish,” he whispered, lips touching one temple, then the other, his voice low in my ear. “I never thought I made a mistake. I had only wanted the moment to be more perfect than what we had last night.”

  The knowledge that he had wished for more for us, it made me shiver, grateful he was holding me against the rough bark of the tree. “You don't... you don't regret it? You don't think I'm a broken, stupid person?”

  “Of course not,” he chuckled, nuzzling my neck, his heart thumping against mine through our clothing. “Well, maybe a little naive, for thinking you had to hide so much of yourself from me. You're wonderful, Leah, beautiful and talented and hardly more broken than myself or anyone else.”

  “Then why,” I sobbed, giving in to the twist of events, my joy so sharp it caused my ribs to swell. “Why did you want to back off, to slow down?”

  His palms were creamy on my neck, those clever lips wrapping mine up in another brief kiss. His forehead rested on mine, I could see the slight frown of his mouth and nothing more. “You shouldn't have had to hear about Bethany from someone else. I thought... I imagined I would tell you, eventually. It's true, you and her are nothing alike.”

  That information hurt, my mind still comparing this unknown woman as the perfect ideal, matched for the man I was falling for, better than me in every way. “But,” he mumbled, “there is something waiting in the wings, that reminds me of the relationship I had with her. That scares me, honestly, because I couldn't do that all over again. I had wanted to take my time with you, not get too close, in case...”

  Deacon was quiet, too long for my taste. Lifting my hands, remembering I had arms, I cradled his hard jaw, making him look at me. “In case?”

  Grimacing, he licked his lips before he spoke, my desire to kiss him again almost winning over my need for what he had to say. “In case you weren't going to stay out here. Bethany couldn't handle the long distance, it was probably the final nail that ruined us both. I was starting to care for you too much, too quick. If you were going to leave, I wanted to be ready to let this all go. But last night, when you showed me the painting you had done for me,” he laughed, embarrassed. “I guess it just caught me off guard, I wasn't ready to see what you were capable of. It made me—it made me want you, right then,” he said, looking straight into my wide gaze.

  He wanted me last night. It wasn't an accident.

  Bursting with delight, my arms gripped him as if he might vanish any second.
There, under the leaves of a tree on the side of the road, the sound of cars in the distance, the breeze of October's final days skimming our necks, I brought my lips to his and kissed him without another worry.

  I felt my fingers slide down his back, over the jacket. Wanting more of him, I tucked them to his waist, crawling up, under the material until I was inside the warmth of it, touching his skin. Deacon rumbled a sigh of appreciation, mouth slipping free to breathe along my neck. My heart was gunfire in my chest, hitting me, warning me of what I was doing. “Can we—should we go somewhere?”

  “Do you want to?” He asked, teasing, knowing the answer. His canines grazed my jaw, tugged my lower lip, eliciting a sharp groan.

  “We can't go to Vanessa's,” I whined, trying to think clearly, my brain floating in a giant ball of cotton.

  Briefly, his palms found my hips, squeezing. It thrilled me, yet then he stepped back, causing me to pout from being deprived of his closeness. “Come on,” he said, delighting me with the widest, most wicked of grins. “I drove my car over, it's parked nearby.”

  Chapter 17.

  ––––––––

  The windows were opaque, steam protecting us in our little private world. However long we had been kissing, it was a mystery, one I didn't care to solve.

  Deacon tasted sweet, his body warming mine to the point of sweating in the back seat of his car. It made me feel like a teenager, giddy and exhilarated as we hid from our parents. In the dimness, my hands tugged his jacket away, yanked at his shirt to reveal his stomach.

  “Slow down,” he chuckled, contradicting himself by helping me strip the clothing away. Even in such weak light, his chest looked fantastic, my fingers desperate to feel across his muscles. Carefully, he toyed with the bottom of my shirt, my sweater already discarded, forgotten somewhere in the car.

  This is perfect, I'm scared I'll find out it isn't really happening, that I've gone insane.