"I'll politely decline." His dark eyes fix on mine.
"What if I slam the door in your face."
"I'll call."
"If I ignore your calls?"
"I'll stand in front of your window singing Britney Spears songs until you come talk to me."
I'm tempted to call his bluff. But I want to talk to him too. I want to talk to him now. Even so... "Prove it."
He cocks a brow.
"Sing a Britney song now."
"I'm not a good singer."
"Do it anyway."
He nods. "You have a request?"
"Um... Oops I Did it Again."
He pulls out his phone and finds a karaoke video of the song on YouTube. He stares into my eyes as he hits play. His cheeks flush as he sings the first verse.
He isn't a great singer, but he's not bad either. His gaze flits between the lyrics on the phone and me. By the second verse, he manages to get within range of the pitch.
He sings the entire song. "I'll work through every fucking single Britney's ever put out if that's what it takes."
I shake my head. "My pho is getting cold."
He chuckles. Then he's smiling.
It lights up his eyes. It makes me warm everywhere.
"I've been thinking." He slides his phone into his pocket and stares into my eyes. "About your question?"
"Which question?"
"You asked if I was sorry if I made you come or if I was sorry I left."
Now, I'm blushing. "Oh." My heartbeat picks up. "Did you come to a conclusion?"
"I'm not sorry I did it."
My heart is thudding against my chest.
"I don't regret it." He sets the takeout bag on the ground and moves closer. "Fuck, I can't remember the last time I wanted anything as much as I wanted to watch you come."
I'm hot everywhere.
"I shouldn't have left like that."
"I didn't want you to leave." I understand why he did. I understand that this is messy. But it still hurts. And the wound is still fresh.
"This is your life too, Piper. Mal and Ethan aren't just my bandmates. They're your brothers."
"I know."
"This, us being together, will fuck with your life too. They might throw fits. Might be hurt you kept this from them."
"Maybe." It's true. This will have collateral damage. That doesn't excuse his leaving, but it is true.
"Piper, I don't have a fucking doubt in my head. I need you." His eyes fix on mine. "The last time I wanted something to wipe my pain away, I thought about you before I thought about using."
"What does that mean?"
"I want you. I'm fucking miserable over us not talking. I'm pissed at everyone. Mostly at myself for being the cause of this." His voice gets soft. "I don't want to put this on you. I'm an adult. I know what I've done, and my recovery is not your fucking responsibility. I don't want to put any of my shit on you."
"You're not. When people care about each other, they help each other. They count on each other." My chest flares with frustration. "They count on each other to stick around."
"I know." He looks to the ground for a moment then his eyes are on mine. "I know a lot of people have left you. I fucking hate that I added to it." He moves closer. "I know what I want. I want to be with you. But, Piper, I'm a fucking mess. I... If I was giving you advice, I'd tell you to run far away from a guy like me."
"Good thing I'm not interested in your advice."
"I want you to think about this, Piper, if you can really be with somebody like me."
What the hell does that mean? Somebody like Kit? Somebody hot, funny, sweet, caring? Somebody who sets my body on fire? A great kisser with an out of this world tongue piercing?
Someone who makes me laugh, who helps me study, who comes when I need him?
Kit is exactly the kind of person I want to be with.
Except for him leaving.
If he leaves like that again...
My heart hurts. The last three weeks have been miserable. I'm still hurt but seeing him is making me warm and fuzzy. Even if I'm not sure what his warning means. "How about we talk after we eat?"
"Only if I can buy you coffee after that."
My lips curl into a smile. "Of course."
He takes my hand and leads me on the short walk to the beach.
It's a beautiful day today. The sun is shining. The warm air smells like salt. The sand is full of locals and tourists alike and the water is full of surfers and swimmers.
I watch waves crash on the beach.
Kit unpacks the takeout bags. After I fix the pho just right, we take turns sampling each dish.
We don't talk about our relationship. We don't talk about anything.
We eat and we watch the waves. Then we lay on the sand together until the sun is setting.
Chapter 16
Piper
Mal is waiting for me at home. He's sitting in the kitchen in front of a wrapped present.
An enormous, hot pink present with a pastel pink bow.
He shoots me a curious look. "You been at school all this time?"
"Took a walk."
"You eat?"
I nod.
He nods to the full carafe. "I made you coffee. Might be stale by now."
I move in for a hug. "Extra cream and sugar please."
He chuckles as he fixes my cup. "Our dentist should send me extra Christmas cards."
"I've only had two cavities my entire life." I take a long sip of the coffee. It's perfect.
Mal shakes his head teasingly. His blue eyes light up as he motions to the gift bag. "You ready?"
There's no way this gift is the thing I really want, but I'm excited all the same.
I pick up the swirly floral Congratulations card sitting on the counter and flip it open.
Piper,
Congratulations on getting through your first year of college. I know, for a fact, that I'm the proudest brother in the entire world. It helps my case that Ethan is busy with Violet's graduation—half his pride is going to her. You're going to do great things one day. This is only the first step.
This should help you enjoy your summer.
Love,
Mal
My heart melts. I lean in for another hug. Mal wraps his thick arms around me and squeezes tightly. He really gives good hugs.
It almost makes up for my parents not being here or giving a fuck about me.
I blink back a tear.
That's not happening.
I'm not crying over their absence.
There's a lot of love in my life— more than in most people's. My parents aren't ruining that.
Period.
I have to prove Mal right. I have to prove I am bound for great things. I have to prove that I don't need my parents around. That I did everything without them.
Mal motions to the present. "Go ahead."
It's almost too pretty to open.
But almost isn't enough to stop me.
I pull off the bow and rise to my tip toes to stick it on Mal's forehead. He chuckles, grabs the bow, and sticks it to my back.
Ah, two can play this game.
But presents first.
I tear open the hot pink paper and rip through the white cardboard box underneath.
My hands hit a smooth fabric.
Nylon.
And canvas.
And plastic.
Huh?
I tear at the box one more time. Cardboard flutters to the tile floor and lands on top of heaps of pink paper.
The counter is still dotted with pink.
With a raspberry pink rolling duffel bag.
It's a suitcase.
Why did Mal get me a suitcase?
I shoot him a curious look.
"Violet helped me pick it out," he confesses.
"Because..."
He shrugs, playing aloof.
I play cool. "You bought me a suitcase because..."
"Good coffee, huh?" He pours himself half
a cup and takes a sip.
I tap my toe in an attempt to play cool. It doesn't help. I tap the other.
I take a sip.
I take a gulp.
This really is good coffee.
Mal smiles serenely. "Let's get dinner to celebrate the end of the school year."
"Tonight?"
"Friday. I'll make a reservation."
My eyes stay glued to the suitcase. Rolling duffel. Whatever. It's a gorgeous shade of raspberry and it has a million pockets. "When does Ethan get back?"
"Next week."
"Let's invite Joel and Kit." I keep my voice even, like inviting Kit means nothing to me. I'm not sure what it means right now. He hurt me running off like that, but I still want to be around him. "Make Ethan jealous."
Mal nods.
"You bought me a suitcase."
He chuckles. "I did."
"Because..."
He takes a sip of his coffee. "Because."
I stare at him.
He stares back with a smile.
I'm losing this staring contest. Badly.
I have to know. I set my coffee on the counter and clap my hands together. "Malcolm Strong, explain yourself!"
"We're doing a festival tour in Europe in late August."
He can't mean...
"You should come." His voice brightens. "You've worked hard. You deserve it. And it will be fun."
"But you always say the road is no place for an impressionable young woman."
He shoots me some serious side eye. "Have I?"
I nod. Okay, maybe he didn't use those exact words, but I got the gist.
"It's three weeks. Ends just before school starts. I've booked you a separate hotel room for all our stops."
A separate hotel room.
For three weeks in Europe.
I have to hug Mal again. I have no choice.
"Am I your favorite brother yet?" he teases.
"You're neck and neck with Ethan."
He chuckles. "Tough competition."
"You could buy me a new car, race into first."
He shakes his head. "How about I make dinner reservations for eight on Friday?"
"You're not winning yet."
"I'll learn to live with that."
Friday night, I step into the restaurant with my shoulders back and my head high. I look cute. Not slutty cute but appropriate for dinner with my brother cute. My navy dress—the one I wore for high school graduation—flatters my less than ample curves and shows off just enough leg. The strappy black heels help.
My smoky eye is blended and sharp. My lips are just the right shade of pink.
This is the cutest I've ever looked.
But I still feel outclassed.
The lobby of this Beverly Hills celebrity hangout is full of models and actresses who are taller, thinner, bustier, or prettier than I am.
Nerves rise up in my throat as my eyes pass over Kit. He's sitting in the back corner of the lobby, his eyes on his cell, his dark curly hair hanging over his face. Every molecule in my body wants to dig my hands into that hair.
Every inch of me wants to climb into his lap and beg him to make me forget we have an audience.
Mal nods to the host stand. "Give me a minute."
Gladly. I make my way to Kit's spot in the back of the lobby and sit next to him.
My knee rubs against the fabric of his slacks. He's wearing slacks. Not jeans. Not even motorcycle boots.
He's dressed up.
For me.
He wants to be with me.
Damn, I'm hot. "Hey."
"Hey." He slides his cell into his pocket and turns towards me. His knee brushes against mine.
Heat races through my body as his fingers brush my outer thigh. "You're not wearing motorcycle boots."
Kit's dark eyes light up as he chuckles. "Thanks for noticing."
He leans closer. His knee slides between my legs.
"Or jeans." I bite my lip. I press my palms into my thighs so I won't feel the fabric of his slacks. "Same black button up shirt."
"You starting a fashion blog?" He cocks a brow.
"No. Just. I, um..." My hands refuse to listen to my brain. My fingers brush the top of his thigh. The fabric is soft. Thin. And he goes commando. Ahem. "You look really nice. Handsome. Extra handsome."
"Thank you."
"You're supposed to say I look nice," I tease.
He gives me a quick once over. For a split second, his eyes linger on my chest. Then they're back on my eyes. "You look gorgeous." He leans in to whisper. "But you already knew that."
I shake my head.
He leans closer enough his breath warms my ear. "Bullshit."
My cheek brushes against his as I lean in to whisper. "Look around. I'm out of my weight class here."
"You shouldn't fish for compliments." He brushes my hair from my shoulder. "You know you're a pretty girl."
Maybe. But I still want to hear him say it. I want to know he wants me. I take a deep breath. I keep my voice even. "I don't want to be pretty. I want to be sexy."
His fingers skim my waist. He leans in to whisper. "You're fucking irresistible, Piper." He pulls back. His dark eyes fix on mine. "But we're here to celebrate school. We should talk about your mind, not your body."
"If I'm going to be an actor, my body will be one of my tools. How I look will matter."
"Does that bother you?"
"I haven't really thought about it." I hold his gaze. "Does it bother you?"
He nods.
"Really?"
"It's worth it. But I get tired of doing this—" He runs his hand through his hair and shoots me a panty-melting smirk. "In photoshoots. You ever see the poster?"
"There's a poster?"
He chuckles. "We've all got posters." He pulls his cell phone from his pocket, taps a few things, and offers it to me.
"You never got a new number." I stare into his eyes as I take the phone.
"You failed to remind me."
"Am I about to get assaulted with a naked picture message and a plea to come on some woman's tits." My cheeks flush. "I mean... you know what I mean."
"I don't," he teases. "How would you manage that angle?"
My blush spreads to my chest.
Kit's gaze follows.
The phone's browser is open to a product page of an online mega-retailer.
It's a poster of Kit lying in bed in a white t-shirt. His skinny jeans are slung low on his hips. Low enough to show off those gorgeous v-lines.
He's staring with fuck me eyes.
On the poster.
That's not him, not really.
It's an image of a bad boy rock star.
My cheeks are burning. I try to play cool. "Only eight ninety-nine. That's a bargain."
"Check the reviews."
I look up to Kit, real Kit, but that doesn't help. This poster is grade A spank bank material. Even so, it doesn't compare to the reality of his intense eyes and his dark hair and his chiseled jaw.
I read aloud from a review. "I have this poster on the wall of my dorm room. It motivates me to study. Whenever I think about slacking off, I look over at Kit Lockhart and he shoots me that stern yet sexy you better finish up so you can strip for me look. He's beautiful, but that isn't what I love most about him. It's how he's looking out for me. I love you, Kit. I love Dangerous Noise. And I do strip for you every night." My fingers brush Kit's as I hand the phone back. "Quite the compliment."
He's blushing.
God, he's sexy blushing.
"That girl probably masturbates to your picture every night." Not that I can talk. "How does that feel?"
"She's in a dorm room."
"And?"
"She has a roommate."
"Even so."
His eyes meet mine. "Doesn't feel like anything. She—"
"Her username was DangerousGirl69."
He chuckles.
"She wants to sixty-nine you."
"Who doesn't?" He motions to
Mal, now moving towards us, and stands. "You ever see Mal's poster?"
"No."
Kit grabs his cell, navigates to the product page featuring Dangerous Noise Poster: Singer Malcolm Strong. Mal's poster is even sexier than Kit's. Or it would be if he wasn't my brother.
He's lying in bed, shirtless, his jeans unzipped, leaning against the headboard with this look in his eyes that says I'm testing out the headboard to see if it's strong enough I can tie you to it.
Mal moves within earshot. He cocks a brow and looks to us for explanation.
"Kit was showing me the poster," I say. "His. Then yours."
Mal chuckles.
"How did you talk everyone else into that?" I ask.
Mal chuckles. "Everyone volunteered. Even Kit." He looks at the phone. "You think that's something, check out Joel's poster."
"Maybe later." I'm sure Joel's poster is less disturbing than Mal's, but it's still not something I want to see at the moment
Mal simply nods and leads us to our table.
He pulls a chair out for me then takes his seat next to mine.
Kit sits opposite me. It's a normal four person table, two seats on each side.
But the proximity of Kit's body doesn't feel normal.
His feet brush against mine.
My knees brush against his.
I bite my tongue so I won't blush. My head is still stuck on that image on the poster. Thousands of woman masturbate to Kit's image every night.
I clear my throat. "I can't get over it. Half the reviewers hinted at masturbating to that poster. Isn't that weird?"
Neither of them says anything.
"I think it's weird." I press my palms together. "Don't you think it's weird, Mal? Women must be doing it to you too."
Mal shrugs. "They'd be doing it either way."
Didn't my oldest brother used to be uptight? He's so relaxed lately. It's strange...
"Who's masturbating?" Joel's bouncy voice floats to the table. He leans down to hug me hello then shifts into the seat across from Mal. "And to whom? I demand details."
"Kit's poster. All of them, I guess." Mal shoots Joel a change the subject please look.
Joel laughs. "I forgot about that." He winks at me. "I've got extra copies in the closet, Pipes. I'll hook you up. It will be our secret."
"Something tells me you aren't good at keeping secrets," I say.
"The volume of his voice, maybe?" Mal offers.
"You get used to the idea of people spanking it to your image," Joel says. "All four of us have been nearly naked in magazines."
Dangerous Crush: A Rock Star Romance (Dangerous Noise Book 2) Page 13