Fall with Me (Sixth Street Bands Book 2)

by Jayne Frost

  Shaking her head, one small fist held me off as she took the glass with a shaky hand.

  “I’m okay,” she mumbled after taking a few tiny sips. “In fifteen minutes…I’m okay.”

  Fifteen minutes?

  I calculated the number of things that could go wrong in fifteen minutes. Nine hundred seconds. A lifetime.

  Lowering my head to examine her face, I found no comfort in her dazed expression.

  “Mel, let me take you to the—“

  “Fifteen m-minutes,” she repeated, her green eyes pleading. “Please.”

  Dropping on my ass, I pulled her onto my lap, and to my surprise, she let me. I pressed my fingers to her wrist, calculating the beats as I held her.

  Fifty-three. Not bad, but not good.

  I wedged a knuckle under her chin and then tilted her face to mine. She let me do that too, but she didn’t seem happy about it if her creased brow was any indication.

  “Angel, your pulse is a little sluggish. Maybe I should call the doctor.”

  The silver threads surrounding her pupils sparked as the fire returned to her gaze. “No. I’m f-fine.”

  As the minutes ticked by, Mel’s breathing steadied. Releasing her death grip on my arm, she left half-moon indents from her fingernails on my skin.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, attempting to scoot off my lap.

  “Why don’t you tell me where that test kit is?” I held her in place. “You need to test your sugar.”

  Placing a kiss to her temple, I rocked her gently until she finally relented, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

  “Black pouch—bathroom drawer,” she whispered.

  I pushed to my feet and then slid my arms under her legs to lift her.

  Glaring, she flattened her palm against my chest. “I’ve got it.”

  Ignoring her defiance, I scooped her up and placed her on the bed. A small smile curved my lips when she scowled.

  Yeah, she was definitely better.

  “Stay put.” I raised a brow. “I mean it. Don’t make me tie you to the bed.”

  Jutting her bottom lip out, Mel crossed her arms over her chest as I turned to walk away. I glanced over my shoulder in time to find her creeping toward the edge of the bed. Doubling back, I glared down at her.

  She lifted her gaze in surprise, one foot poised to hit the ground,

  “I wasn’t joking about tying you up,” I rumbled.

  Reluctantly, she retracted her leg.

  “Good girl.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I warned, “Don’t move.”

  Darting into the bathroom, I flipped the switch on the wall, flooding the small space with light. I rooted around in the only drawer, finding the black pouch hidden in the back, like it was a deep, dark secret.

  Checking my reflection in the mirror, my hand reflexively went to my side, my fingers digging into the taut flesh covering my ribs. I’d broken two of the damn things almost a year ago, but no evidence remained of the injury.

  Diabetic. At twenty-five.

  Daily shots. A restricted diet.

  I cringed when I pictured her face at the restaurant.

  “It’s just a little sugar.”

  The words rang in my ears as my gaze shifted to the orange streak of juice on my chest.

  Guilt ridden, I turned off the light.

  Entering Mel’s bedroom, I held the black pouch like I had the winning lottery ticket. “Got it!”

  My cheery tone evaporated when I spied the empty bed.

  Stalking to the dresser, my jaw torqued so tight I thought it would snap, I bit out, “Are you hard of hearing, or is English not your first language? I told you to stay put.”

  Clutching a fresh t-shirt, she glowered at me. “I’m all wet. I need a shower.”

  Taking her elbow, I guided her to the bed while she did her best to shake off my grip.

  “After you test your blood sugar.”

  She snatched the kit from my hand and then dumped the contents on the mattress. “My sugar’s fine. I know my body.”

  “Not well enough, apparently.”

  I received a cold stare for my trouble. But I didn’t care.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I winced at the pop from the little pen she held to her finger. Instinct kicked in at the sight of the crimson droplet that bubbled from her skin, and I stepped back.

  “Squeamish?” She squeezed the blood onto the test strip and then met my gaze, tilting her chin defiantly. “You don’t have to stay. I got this.”

  Chewing the inside of my lip to keep from biting her head off, I turned my attention to the monitor on the small handheld machine.

  “All good,” Mel announced when the device beeped.

  Gathering the supplies, she shoved them back into the bag.

  I caught her by the wrist. “Are you normal?”

  “Of course I’m normal,” she snapped, her eyes hard enough to bend steel. “I’m just a diabetic.”

  “I meant, is your sugar normal?” My thumb traced small circles on her palm. “Just tell me, Melody.”

  She dropped on the side of the bed, looking down at her toes. “It’s still a little low.”

  Easing beside her, I laid a tentative hand on her thigh. “What happened?”

  “I forgot to take my shot. And, I, um…” Her brows drew together. “I was in a hurry, and I mixed up my dosage.”

  “How—“

  “Because I wasn’t paying attention, all right? I was sleepy.” Swaying when she stood, she placed a balled fist on her hip. “Sorry you had to see it. I’m going to take a shower. You can let yourself out.”

  Snaking an arm around her hips before she could get away, I pulled her onto my knee.

  “Are you kicking me out?” I rested my chin on her shoulder. “That’s just cold, angel. It’s the middle of the night.”

  There was no way I was going to leave her here alone after her little episode. Even if I had to humble myself in the process.

  “Stay if you want.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m taking a shower.”

  Weaving as she made her way across the room, she stopped to brace her hand on the doorjamb and take a few deep breaths.

  Stubborn.

  My chest bumped her back as I followed her to the bathroom.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted.

  “I’m sure you are.” Nibbling her neck, the faint taste of salt lingered on her skin. “I just want to see you naked.”

  I felt her quiver, but it wasn’t desire. She was still weak. I maneuvered her against the wall in the bathroom despite her meek protests. Pulling the stained t-shirt over her head, I admonished myself to stay on task when I glimpsed her erect nipples. Apparently, my cock wasn’t as sympathetic to Mel’s plight as the rest of me. One peek at those rose tinted beauties and he was raring to go.

  “My shower’s the size of a coffin,” she said, her gaze falling to the tent in my boxers. “So no funny business.”

  “Got it. No funny business.”

  I looked down at my dick and then up to her face, shrugging when he didn’t obey.

  A chuckle tumbled from Mel’s lips as she turned on the water. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  My cock jumped at the sight of her, bent over in only her white cotton panties. I cursed under my breath, annoyed. The fact that I was ready to set the recent harrowing experience aside and bend the little spitfire over the counter unnerved me. I wasn’t some horny teenager. I got more ass than your average guy by double. Hell, triple.

  Mel slipped off her panties and then ducked into the shower, where I joined her a few minutes later when my dick finally decided to cooperate.

  To say the stall was like a coffin gave coffins a bad name. I prayed I didn’t have to spend the afterlife in someplace this cramped.

  Biting back a groan when Mel’s ass grazed my crotch, I grabbed her hips to keep her from doing it again.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” I nipped her shoulder. “There’s only so much I can take. And given the circumst
ances, you’re not making this any easier.”

  “Circumstances?” She spun around—difficult to do in the enclosed space—but she managed. “There are no circumstances. I told you I was fine. If you’re just here to babysit me, you can take your ass—“

  Cupping the back of her neck, I crushed my mouth to hers. I couldn’t think of anything else to do to shut her up. That acid tongue of hers tasted a hell of a lot better tangled against mine.

  She responded by deepening the kiss. Fighting to gain purchase against my slick body, her legs shook from the effort.

  Before I lost all reason, I sank my teeth into her bottom lip. Her eyes flew open and she glared at me. I was getting used to the glare, so I went about my business, squeezing a dollop of shampoo into my hand.

  She groaned as I slid my fingers into her hair.

  “Feel good?”

  Instead of answering, she wiggled closer. I guess she planned on wearing me down.

  Massaging her scalp, I brushed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Later. And you better quit pouting, or I’m going to bite that lip again.”

  “But…”

  Nudging her head under the streaming water, I drowned her protest. She fused her eyes shut to avoid the deluge of soap, her brow furrowed in consternation.

  As my fingers traveled the length of her tangled locks to expel the suds, I examined every freckle on her upturned nose. Following the water sluicing down her body, I zeroed in on the small bruise on her stomach where she’d administered the insulin injection.

  Her fingers splayed over the area, knocking me out of my trance.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” she insisted, blinking against the water trickling into her eyes. “It’s a condition, not a disease. I can do anything anybody else can do.”

  The angry bruise on her unmarred skin told a different story. A painful story.

  “I’m sure you can.” Allowing myself one taste of her sweet mouth, I smiled against her lips. “And in a little while, I’m going to let you prove it.”

  Chapter Six

  My head pounded as I surveyed the dance floor from our perch in the VIP area at Maggie Mae’s. Sipping my lukewarm beer, the bitter after-taste matched my sullen mood.

  “I haven’t seen you in a week and you’ve barely touched your first beer,” Logan groused, sliding a fresh bottle in front of me. “What the fuck is up with you?”

  “I’m driving.”

  Logan paused with a shot glass halfway to his lips. “Don’t give me that shit. You’re the most responsible asshat I know.” Nodding to my phone resting on my knee, he quipped, “I bet you’ve got Yellow Cab on speed dial. What’s really going on?”

  Another sip of piss warm beer. “I don’t know, dude. Cinnamon withdrawal.”

  “Huh?” Concern lit Logan’s blue eyes. “Is that serious?”

  Apparently, it was dead fucking serious.

  “I made it up. Just a joke—see?” I pointed a finger at my forced smile. “There’s nothing going on.”

  I suspected my cinnamon remark was spot on, but I wasn’t about to admit it. This was the first night that I hadn’t spent with Mel. The only night since we hooked up at the library seven days ago.

  After leaving Mel’s place that first morning, I had no intention of calling her for a few days—at the very least.

  But somehow my truck ended up in the parking lot of the Life Science building after band practice that afternoon, like the damn thing had a mind of its own.

  I told myself that I was only there to check on Mel because I was concerned—like any friend would be.

  Apparently I was so fucking concerned, I broke my cardinal rule and invited her to stay the night at my house. Actually, I lured her there under the guise of mind-blowing sex. And then I fucked her into oblivion, and she fell asleep in my arms.

  We repeated the ritual the next day. And the next.

  She’d even pulled me over to join her study group. Twice. I guess it was easier than explaining the guy lurking in the stacks, stealing glances from afar.

  We never made any formal plans though, I just showed up after practice, and it was her place or mine.

  Until tonight.

  I mentioned the show to Mel this morning while I had her up against the wall in her coffin of a shower, even hinting that she should drop by The Parish.

  Who was I kidding? I practically gave the girl a fourteen-carat-gold-plated fucking invitation. I thought she’d jump at the chance. Or at least hop. People lined up for hours to see us perform.

  But not Mel. She told me she had a morning class and staying out late didn’t jive with her schedule.

  Since she made it clear that she wasn’t going to change her plans, there was no reason for me to change mine. The band always went out after a show. But I hadn’t counted on being pissed and cranky. And Logan’s inquisition wasn’t helping matters.

  He continued to appraise me with narrowed eyes, examining the beer in my hand like I had a fever or something.

  “Are you going to tell me what the deal is or just sit there and sulk?” Logan elbowed me in the ribs to tear my attention from my phone.

  I had Mel’s number pulled up, ready to send her a text.

  “Nothing's going on.” Pocketing the device, I pushed aside the old beer in favor of the fresh bottle. “I guess I’m just not in the mood to party.”

  Logan abandoned his interrogation mid sentence, turning his attention to a group of scantily clad women teetering up the steps leading to the VIP area. The bouncer held open the velvet rope, and the girls sauntered in.

  Logan reclined against the cushions, grinning wide. “Well, you better get in the mood, bro. ’Cause we got company.”

  The loud music camouflaged my discontented groan when Sean, our drummer, strode into the VIP, balancing an overfilled tray of shots on his upturned hand.

  “Y’all look like you’re in desperate need of company.” Sean slid the drinks on the table and then threw his arm around the redhead glued to his side. “I met Brandy here backstage after the show.” His lip quirked as his hand drifted to the girl’s ass. “I convinced her and her friends to come hang out with us for a while.”

  From the coy grins on their faces, the girls didn’t need much convincing.

  Looking around for the nearest exit, my gaze landed on a blond in a short skirt. Her long, toned legs were the stuff dreams were made of. But apparently not mine, since my dick barely twitched.

  I continued to stare at her, wondering what those long legs would feel like wrapped around my waist.

  Still nothing.

  Fuck, I really was tired. Tipping my head back, I polished off the last of my beer, keenly aware of the phone in my pocket. It was still early. Kind of. Maybe I could call Melody and…

  “You’re Christian, right?”

  I blinked up at Blondie who’d somehow managed to slink across the room without me noticing.

  “That I am.”

  “I’m Allison.” She pressed her leg against my knee. “You guys were awesome tonight.”

  Cutting her gaze to Logan, chatting up a brunette on his right, Allison’s face fell for a millisecond.

  Logan was the big-ticket item, while I was merely a consolation prize. It never bothered me before, but right now the look of disappointment clouding Allison’s baby blue’s when she gazed at me sent a rush of anger straight to my frontal lobe.

  This chick didn’t want me. She wanted to fuck me. Or Sean. Or Cameron, if he was here. That being said, she’d dump any of us like a stone if Logan batted an eyelash at her.

  “That’s always nice to hear,” I said, barely able to contain my boredom with the whole conversation.

  Taking a sip from the fresh beer I’d commandeered from the table, I shifted my gaze to Allison’s breasts out of habit. The large mounds spilled from her low-cut blouse, firm and juicy. And I could tell by the way those puppies didn’t budge when she laughed, they were fake as hell.

  I glanced down at my palm, whi
ch fit very nicely around Mel’s small, soft breasts. And her ass. Her thigh…

  Logan nudged my shoulder, offering me two shots from the tray.

  “Where are your manners, son?” He gave Allison a wolfish grin. “Aren’t you going to offer this pretty thing a drink?”

  Allison giggled loudly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. I was relatively sure she’d take on both of us if we asked.

  Not that I was judging. Sex was sex. Pheromones, hormones, and attraction. Girls weren’t immune, and condemning them for their desires wasn’t my style. If they wanted to have fun, I was all about it. Usually.

  Hesitating for a moment, the thought of Mel lingered in my brain. Seven nights was six more than I’d ever spent with any woman. And that was probably the reason I felt so shitty. Too much of a good thing. Mel was just one appetizer on the buffet.

  I gazed around at the other girls vying for attention, wondering if any of them were as tasty. If any of them smelled like cinnamon and fresh leaves and…

  Shaking my head to knock Mel’s image from my mind, I took the shot and made room for Allison on the couch.

  “What do you say, Allison?” I patted the cushion and she nestled in beside me, her hand on my thigh. Ignoring her cloying perfume when my lips touched her ear, I pressed the drink in her hand. “You in the mood for a shot?”

  My heavy lids creaked open as the taxi pulled to a stop. I paid the fare before stumbling onto the curb, my eyes wandering to the second floor. With an unsteady gait, I stumbled toward the concrete staircase. In my condition, I probably shouldn’t be attempting such a feat. But I did.

  Holding tight to the railing, I navigated the steps. When I reached the landing, I staggered to the door, the ground tilting beneath me.

  Blowing out a breath, I rapped three times in quick succession.

  What the fuck are you doing?

  The errant thought drifted right out of my head when I met Mel’s sleepy green eyes.

  “Christian?” Her brows drew together in confusion. “What are you—”

  Pulling her into my arms, my uncoordinated hand slid to the curve of her ass. “Did you miss me, angel?”

  I wasn’t crossing the threshold until she gave me some kind of clue. It’s bad enough that I’d shown up here out of the blue. That I sent Allison packing because the thought of her lips on mine was so revolting, I couldn’t even kiss her, let alone take her up on whatever else she was offering.