Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance

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Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance Page 10

by Creed, Lyrica


  “Why are we here again?”

  “We’re looking. And then tomorrow or the next day, we’re coming back to one of these places and buying your car.” Henni gestured again for me to join her on the other side. “Did you know the week after Christmas is the best time of year to buy a car? That ought to appeal to your responsible side. The dealer told me that when I bought mine.”

  “But you didn’t wait.”

  “Why wait for something you can have now?”

  “Not you. That’s for sure.”

  “And not you. Scarlette Fuckin’ Conterra doesn’t live in a tiny apartment and drive some secondhand shit car.

  “Really? Then why did I do just that for years? Why was Scarlette Conterra working her own way through college?”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I thought the money would last longer. But things happened.”

  “Yes! You happened.”

  “Look, Scarlette. I know you think it was irresponsible. The amount of money I went through―”

  “It was!”

  “It was. I agree. Looking back, yes it was extreme. Yes, I regret a lot of it.” Here she paused and leveled her best mother look. “But I don’t regret all of it.”

  “I’m curious what you don’t regret.” When my mother flipped her shades down over her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, I pursued. “As someone who pays your rent—who’s always paid your rent—and knowing I’ll be paying more of your bills before it’s over, I deserve to know what you don’t regret and why not.”

  “I lived! I lived life each day to the max. I didn’t miss out on what I wanted. You want to know why I dated rockers? Because they live their lives at full volume! And that’s how I lived. It’s how I felt alive. You on the other hand, I believe you’re doing the opposite of what you want to do. And you’re miserable for it. Always studying. Writing papers. Taking tests.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m about to graduate and do something I’ve always wanted to do. All the studying is about to pay off.”

  “Really? Have you always wanted to rehab people hooked on junk? Or have you always wanted to balance your little corner of the universe? An addiction to drugs took your father away, so you cure addiction to drugs?”

  When she didn’t receive an answer, Henni went with a calmer approach. “Scarlette, you’re a musician. Don’t waste that talent away because of some fear you developed while being exposed to the worst of that life.”

  In going up one row and down another, we’d made a loop. Quickening my steps, I hopped the gate and hurried to the car, slipping into the driver’s side. I was left alone with my thoughts for a good few minutes before my mother opened the passenger door. Without saying anything, she passed the keys over.

  We were quiet on the drive home. I passed the BMW dealership without stopping, and my mother made no argument.

  Henni did request one stop. A liquor store. She ran in and returned, tossing the bag into the back. “Eggnog.”

  I refrained from wrinkling my nose. Even though it was not much more than a speck in front of my house the moment I turned on my street, the familiar white car caught my attention and I groaned aloud. This was the first time I’d seen it in several weeks and I’d hoped he’d given up on me.

  “What’s wrong?” Henni wondered.

  “That white car. The man is pretty much Grade A stalker paps. You’d think he’d have family to keep him busy on Christmas.”

  Henni’s gaze narrowed as we drew closer. As usual, I flipped my visor down and whipped into the driveway as quickly as the automatic gate would let me.

  As was normal, we took the back way into the house. I was on the upstairs landing, unlocking the apartment door when I noticed the bag containing the liquor and eggnog sitting at the base of the stairs and the front entry cracked open.

  I debated between retracing my steps to the first floor, and going into the apartment. Crossing the main room, I peered out the window and froze at the scene below.

  Henni stood in the street, hands on her hips, leaning into the window of the white car. Then her arms began to wave wildly in clearly furious gestures accompanying whatever she was saying. Whirling around, she stomped back across the street toward the walkway. Henni had just closed herself inside the property when, behind her, the car’s engine revved to life, and the tires screeched as the car burned rubber, quickly vanishing.

  “Mom. What the hell?” I rushed to the hall landing, and relieved my mother of the shopping bag as I chastised. “He could be dangerous. In fact, as weird as he is, I’m willing to bet he is.”

  “Well he has no business watching you like that.”

  “Yeah. But I’ve got a bodyguard downstairs who lives to chase him away.”

  “And yet he wasn’t chased away…”

  “I’m sure the resident muscle is enjoying Christmas with his family.”

  “And leaves you vulnerable to the psychos on the street?”

  “Mom! It’s not like that. Okay? I don’t need a damn bodyguard. Gage and…” Here I stopped before mentioning my ex-stepfather to my mother. “Gage was being overprotective. That’s why the guy lives downstairs. But he’s not round the clock security.”

  Henni mixed the eggnog while we bickered, and I downed a mug. Surprisingly, it was tasty.

  When Logan paid a surprise visit, I was glad for the distraction. I introduced him to my mother, and Henni insisted he have eggnog.

  “Did you get a look at that Social Order syllabus?” Logan sipped and made conversation.

  Henni slapped her cup against the saucer and rolled her eyes. “Do you study on Christmas too, Logan?”

  “No, ma’am. I…” Logan seemed part embarrassed and part intimidated. He set his cup on his saucer with a much quieter clink than Henni had. “I, uh, actually came by to see if Scarlette…” He realigned his eyes from my mother to me. “If you wanted to go out with some kids from school. But I didn’t know your mom was here. I should get going.”

  “Who’s going out?” I asked and listened to the details, yearning at this opportunity to have some peace away from my maternal parent.

  Henni urged me to go if I wanted to. “Go, dear. Have fun. I have a few books downloaded that look good.”

  In the end, I reminded myself that my mother had only been here for two days and would be spending only one more night after tonight. I turned Logan down, but as had become common, walked him outside.

  “Your mom’s a character.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m glad she’s here. I was afraid you were spending Christmas alone.”

  “That’s sweet of you. Thanks for thinking of me.” Then a worrisome thought struck me. Had Gage’s text the night before been a lonely text? Was Logan checking to make sure I wasn’t lonely and pining away the holiday because Gage was? “Gage go to his dad’s for Christmas?” Or is his dad out of town as usual?

  “He and Mr. Remington went skiing in New Mexico.”

  “Oh. Good. I just… Well, holidays are hard. I imagine especially to someone recovering.” I tried to excuse my questioning, but just wound up feeling like an ass.

  “Merry Christmas.” Logan reached in his pocket and withdrew a small box tied up with a ribbon.

  “You didn’t!” I refused to take it, racking my brain for anything I had inside the apartment that could be a return gift. Why hadn’t I bought him a gift? He was around at least once a week. Maybe I could give him Seth’s bracelet and buy Seth another before I saw him…

  “Open it tonight.” He shoved it in my hand and bounded down the stairs. Turning to wave, he repeated, “Merry Christmas!”

  Chapter 21

  People swarmed the edgy interior of the club. The band was destroying their set. Alcohol might as well have been flowing from a waterfall as plentiful as it was. Everyone held a drink, some two. They leaned against the bar. Sat in booths or on high stools. Danced or bobbed heads to the music.

  It wasn’t his scene tonight. However, coming out of his cave
for New Year’s Eve was logical in many ways. Rubbing elbows with people of the industry was something he needed to take seriously. He’d done the session Jax had mentioned, as well as the one with Green Envy. He had less than a week to commit or not to the Rattler gig. What he wanted was his own gig or at least one in an established band.

  From his corner of the VIP area, he scanned the faces, looking for Colt. The woman to one side of him was chattering away, and the blonde beauty on his other side would not shut up about wanting to dance. Five minutes later when Colt’s date returned without Colt, Gage had enough.

  “Excuse me.” He motioned to the blonde.

  “Yay. Finally!” She clapped her hands as she slid out.

  “I’m not dancing. I’m going to the john.”

  “You got a bump?” Her head tipped and her lip poked out in a pout.

  “No.” Weaving, he lost her in the crowd and kept going.

  Between songs, the ten minutes until midnight announcement came and a buzz lit the crowd as everyone scrambled for drinks and position. Position being at their date’s side. Looking back, he saw Colt’s date was still alone. So where was the asshole?

  The last thing he wanted was to make a new year’s toast with some skank he didn’t know. After taking the fastest piss ever, he emerged from the bathroom with the intention of being out of this place by midnight.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Automatically, his arms shot out, steadying the woman he’d slammed into. Looking beyond her, when the women’s restroom opened, he watched in disbelief as Scarlette emerged.

  The hallway was narrow, and with one sidestep, he blocked Scar’s way just as she noticed him. Her lips parted in surprise, and the sexy action took his mind to other places. Times when they’d parted in pleasure. Or parted in an invitation to deepen their kiss. Or parted right before they went around his cock…

  They stood so close, he could feel her body heat. So close, he could look down the generous neckline of her clingy shirt and imagine sliding his cock in the shadowy valley of cleavage. She brought up a hand, flattened it to his chest, a gesture for him to clear the way. But the chemical current zapped her as hard as him. He could tell because she gulped and stepped back, an action aligning her to the wall. If he were a gentleman, he’d step aside. But since he’d never been that, he stepped forward, trapping her between him and the wall.

  “I didn’t know you were here.” Her words were breathless.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” he returned.

  From the main area, the countdown began. Ten. Nine. Eight.

  “I need to go.”

  Seven.

  “What’s your hurry?”

  Six.

  “I… It’s the New Year countdown…”

  Five. Four.

  “Yeah. Whatever you’re doing at midnight, you’ll be redoing for the rest of the year.”

  Three. Two.

  It hadn’t been a conscious effort, so when the pad of his thumb grazed her bottom lip, tingling like fire up his nerve endings, he sucked in a breath.

  One.

  “Happy New Year, Scar.” His lips collided with hers.

  Her lips parted, but before his tongue moved in, they were interrupted.

  “Fuck, man. You just steal my girl’s New Year’s kiss?”

  He twisted his head just enough to see the man advancing on them, and then returned his attention to Scarlette. Her cheeks flushed, and she held his questioning stare without providing the answer he wanted. Was she someone’s girl?

  Her shove took him by surprise and she twisted to her freedom, sputtering apologies to the dickwad. “Derrick, I’m sorry. I was trying to… That’s―”

  “I know who the asshole is.” The other man’s look was soft and worried as it touched over Scarlette’s face, but his eyes hardened to two dark coals when he looked over her to find him looking on.

  The stab of a thousand needles pierced his soul when the fucker wrapped her to his side and moved off with her.

  Instead of bailing out, Gage returned to the VIP section where he found the two of them swaying on the dance floor to Auld Lang Syne—kissing. Fuck. Why couldn’t he look away?

  The song ended, and she laughed at something he was saying as they moved toward the bar. Unable to stop the self-inflicted torture, he opted to stay and watch some more. He even put an arm around each of the women on either side of him—Colt’s date included since he was still gone. But Scarlette never looked over.

  She and the asswipe disappeared through the exit after emptying their drinks. The moment they were out of sight, he signaled a server. “Shots all around,” he indicated his table. “A double for me, please.”

  “Yay, Gage! I knew you weren’t going to be a grump all night!” The blonde beauty did the annoying handclap thing again.

  Steeling his eyebrows from the scowl he felt coming on, he smiled instead. Looking around the table, he considered his prospects for the rest of the night. All were bangable. Extremely. But he was tired of toying around.

  Allison eyed him back quietly. Colt had always hated her. But she wasn’t that bad. In fact, if he was looking for a woman to do more than bang him blind and then disappear, he could see himself hanging out with Allison.

  “Want to dance?” He didn’t break their gaze.

  “Sure!”

  “Hey!” Blondie protested. “I’ve been wanting to all night.”

  “Tough titties.” Allison slammed down her shot and eased out of the booth.

  Gage hardened himself against a niggling feeling of guilt and ignored the blonde’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he downed his own shots and stood. He was doing the right thing for once. If he wasn’t, he’d have taken Goldilocks home and somewhere in the midst of sticking his dick in one of her lovely holes, he would have given her the spiel to be gone by morning light. Instead, he was going to make an attempt at dating Allison.

  Chapter 22

  Were we dating?

  I considered the question when Logan shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over my shoulders as I stepped from his car. He had invited me to a movie, but we had ended up at a club supporting the gig of a friend of his.

  My fingers lifted, twisting the guitar pick pendant on the necklace he’d given me for Christmas, and we walked close enough to brush elbows as we paced toward the house. Colored Christmas lights glowed although the holiday was more than a month passed. Looking at the string across the eave above the Victorian porch, he grinned. “I can take those down for you.”

  “I like them.” They add color to my corner of hell… I answered his question and considered my own as I unlocked the door.

  No. To qualify as dating we would have shared a goodnight kiss whenever he dropped me off.

  Since being introduced to me by Gage before he’d gone into rehab, Logan had been a constant in my life. But swapping class notes and texts during the last few weeks had evolved into non-school related activities. So far, we went to shows on Sunset, or watched the surfers on Venice Beach, or any number of outings.

  But once we arrived here to my apartment, he walked me to the door, sometimes stayed for a soda or beer, and never treated me as more than a friend.

  “Coming up for a bit?” I invited with a tip of my head toward the stairs.

  “I can’t. Got an exam to cram for.” He shifted his weight from one high top to the other.

  And then, with a swoop of his mouth, he caught me on the lips!

  “See you later,” he mumbled, straightening. Leaving me bewildered, he hopped over the steps and achieved a graceful landing on the walkway. He waved just before ducking into his car.

  From inside the house, I paused before going upstairs to watch his taillights through the window. Were we? Actually dating now?

  I was in bed later that night, surrounded by my study notes when a text confirmed it.

  Logan

  Thinking about you. Just wanted to say goodnight.

  11:19 PM

  Of all the men in L.A
. and beyond, how could I have let this happen? It didn’t matter how much he made me laugh or how sweet he was. He worked for Gage and that nth degree of separation was too close for comfort. I could easily put an end to it right now with one simple text or even the lack of a return text.

  Instead, I found myself replying.

  Sweet. Thinking of you too. Had a great time.

  Sent 11:20 PM

  Logan

  Night. Heart emoticon

  11:20 PM

  Night. Heart emoticon

  Sent 11:21 PM

  Chapter 23

  “Where’re you going?” Gage lifted his cheek from the comfort of the pillow, cracking his eyes enough to watch Allison pull on the red thong and black skirt she’d been wearing when she arrived.

  Ignoring her bra, which was dangling from an empty guitar stand, she poked her head through her shirt. “Home?” Cocking her head, she curved a smirk. “That’s still the rule right? And you know me. I always play by your rules.”

  Rolling onto his back, he lay, letting the breeze from the fan brush his bare skin while perusing her tousled, half-dressed appearance. “Yeah you do. I outta spank your ass though for leaving without making sure everyone else does.”

  “Speaking of?”

  “That Trish or Tonia or ‘whatever her name was’ friend of yours. Stuck around too long.”

  “Almost a year ago? You do hold a grudge, don’t you?” She wedged her bare feet into some kind of boot and sandal mutant shoes.

  “Nah. I just collect my debts, no matter how old,” he retorted suggestively. Good God. Had it been almost a year since the night Scarlette had first walked through the door of this house? How did the thought of her still hurt so much?

  Allison moved closer, bending to the nightstand for the cigarette in an ashtray. Lighting it, she sat on the edge of the bed and put it to his lips. “Well, I like a good spanking as much as the next girl, even if it is a year old. But just so you know, that twat was no friend of mine. She wanted to meet the great Gage Remington and she had enough party favors to convince me.”

  Shutting down his body’s twitch of response to the mention of lines and lines of snowy coke, he breathed in another hit and passed the smoke back. “About the rules. What if I said they don’t apply to you anymore?”

 

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