Impulsive

by Jeana E. Mann

  They paused to place their orders, and Tasha used the break in conversation to regroup. What was it with this guy? She felt like a pawn being chased around a chessboard but didn’t know why. The constant push-pull of attraction and subterfuge made her head spin.

  “Why here?” she asked. The waiter delivered a basket of steaming bread and honey butter. She took a piece and broke it in half. “It’s not exactly L.A. You’ll be bored to death. Don’t you have family to visit or something?”

  “I don’t have a family,” he replied. “My dad shows up every couple of years to ask for money, and my mom says I’m in bed with Satan and destined for hell. Luke’s mother was more of a parent to me than either of my own.” He took the other half of the bread from her, drowned it with honey butter, and popped the entire thing in his mouth.

  The sounds of the restaurant filled the silence at their table. Silverware clinked on plates. Conversation hummed around them. She stared down at her plate, at a loss for words. Although he spoke without emotion, his statement held an agonizing undercurrent of pain. How could someone so rich and famous have no one? Her family might be fucked up and shattered, but they were still her family.

  “It might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.

  “Yeah? Well, don’t feel sorry for me. My shrink says it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. I feel undeserving of love, so I hurt the people who love me, and then they don’t love me anymore.”

  It was the second time he’d said it. The confession raised more questions than it answered. Someone in his past must have rejected him, someone he’d loved. It made her ache for him, but not enough to forgive him for playing with her.

  A trio of waiters arrived with their food. They smiled at Elijah, called him Mr. Crowe, and stumbled over each other to serve him. He seemed oblivious to it all and concentrated his attention on her.

  “I don’t feel sorry for you,” she said when the servers had moved away. They hovered a few feet from the table, annoying in their over-eagerness.

  “No?” This earned her another peek over the top of his sunglasses. “Then I didn’t present it very well, did I?”

  “I think you’re a spoiled, self-indulgent megalomaniac.”

  He set his fork on his plate and removed his sunglasses to stare at her with narrowed eyes. “Gee, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.” He didn’t seem at all offended. In fact, his eyes sparkled as if she’d just said the most amusing thing in the world. “Seriously. I want to know.”

  “Well…” She took a piece of her eggplant parmesan and chewed it carefully. “I think you’ve been out of touch with the real world for so long you’ve forgotten how to act. You surround yourself with people who cater to your every whim. They tell you what you want to hear and don’t give a shit about what’s in your best interest as long as it makes them money. For most people, the world doesn’t revolve around whether or not you’ve got silk sheets on your bed or a private jet at your disposal. They’re worried about mortgages and bills and how to put their kid through college.”

  “And you know all these things about me how?” He leaned his elbows on the table and shifted forward in his seat, attention focused on her.

  “I don’t know you. I’m just guessing.” A waiter stepped forward to top off her wineglass. She took a sip and swallowed before looking up at Elijah. He shook his head, shoved back in his chair, and stared at her in disbelief.

  “Unfuckingbelievable,” he said when the silence began to make her uncomfortable. “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate picture of things.” He raised his napkin to wipe his mouth then threw it on the table beside his plate. A lopsided grin twisted his lips. “You know what? I think I’m going to buy you a car.”

  “I don’t need a car,” she said, shaking her head. “I drive a motorcycle. And I don’t want anything from you except a chance to design a tattoo for you. If you’re still interested.”

  “Oh, I’m interested, all right.” He signaled for the check and drew a black charge card from his wallet. “I am fucking mesmerized. No wonder Luke’s got it so bad for you.”

  “He told you that?” The ridiculous flutter of her pulse caught her by surprise. If that happened every time he mentioned Luke’s name, it was going to be a very long night.

  “We talk. He tells me things.” Elijah replaced his sunglasses and stared out across the water. “He’s values your friendship.”

  There was the ugly word, rearing its head when she least expected it. At her insistence, she and Luke were nothing but friends. He was dating someone else. And she was right where she wanted to be. Out in the cold.

  “Right. That’s why he never got back with me after I stopped by his place the other day.” She studied her hands in her lap, chewing on her lower lip.

  “Really?” The intensity of his voice made her shift in her chair. “That surprises me. But then, he’s been pretty busy. I’m sure he’ll give you a call when he gets a chance.” His knee bumped hers beneath the table. One of his eyebrows arched. “Are you in love with Luke, Tattoo Girl?”

  “No.” Talking to him was like being interrogated by a police officer. She had to think about everything she said before she said it, knowing he’d pick it apart and stow it away for later use.

  “Whatever you say,” Elijah replied, replacing his sunglasses and shutting her out of his thoughts again. “If you were, you wouldn’t be the only one.”

  Chapter 21

  An explosion of flashbulbs greeted them when they exited the restaurant. People called Elijah’s name. Hands clutched at him. He stopped and signed autographs for the better part of an hour while Tasha waited.

  When they finally made it to the car, he pulled a pill bottle from the glove box with trembling hands, shook a couple of caplets into his palm, and swallowed them dry. She wanted to ask what it was, but he’d gone pale, a thin sheen of sweat over his forehead.

  “Are you okay?” she asked instead.

  “Yeah. Fine. Just a little anxiety now and then.” He threw the pills back into the glove box, rammed the car into gear, and rocketed into the street with a squeal of tires. “Gives them a show, you know?” He shot her a sideways smile, but his voice shook as he spoke. Before she could comment, he asked, “So where do you live? I’ll drop you.”

  It wasn’t every day a towering, tattooed, multi-pierced rock star made an appearance at the Laurel Lake Condominiums. Two fragile and aged ladies with dowager humps and wispy white hair rode in the elevator with them. They stared up at Elijah, silent and wide-eyed. He grinned back and awarded them each a lecherous wink when they scurried off the elevator.

  “I think you freaked them out,” Tasha chided when they debarked. “Mrs. Ramie is probably calling the cops as we speak.”

  “Nah,” he replied with good-natured humor. “She was hot for me. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “In your mind, everyone’s hot for you.” Tasha rolled her eyes as she opened the door to her apartment. If he was still feeling weak, he hid it well.

  “Including you?” He followed on her heels into the apartment. The heat of his body prickled the hair on the nape of her neck.

  “You should really work on your self-confidence,” she said. As irritating as he was, he held a childish charm that drew her to him.

  “Thank you for coming to dinner with me.” When he stepped in front of her, she had no choice but to look at him. His face was grave. “You’ve been nothing but nice to me, and I’ve been nothing but a pain in your ass.”

  “You’re a pretty nice guy when you’re not being a dick.”

  Elijah’s lips curved in a rare genuine smile, flashing white teeth. “That might be the only nice thing anyone has ever said about me.” He placed a hand on her arm. “But seriously, I do apologize. Maybe if I had more people like you around me, I wouldn’t be such a fuck-up.”

  “It’s alright.” She didn’t want to like him but couldn’t help herself. The curious mix of his vulnerability and shrewdness kept her intrigued. She coul
dn’t help feeling somewhere deep inside he was a confused and hurt little boy aching for approval. “Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water and soda…”

  Elijah moved straight for the wine. Tasha grabbed the bottle before he could reach it. His formerly sweet smile morphed into a frown.

  “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with your medication,” she said. The last thing she needed was a tweaked-out brat to babysit.

  He smirked. “I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have mixed LSD with ecstasy, but it never stopped me.” He made a second ineffectual grab for the wine, but she swept it away and stowed it in the refrigerator.

  “Please. I’ve only got a few nerves left, and you’re working on every one of them.” She leaned her back against the refrigerator and motioned to the food.

  “Can I stay here tonight?” He flashed her a magazine-cover smile, eyes dancing.

  “No, you can’t stay here.” By now, she should be used to his audacity, but he’d caught her off guard once again. She tried to look stern and bit her lip to keep from smiling. Once she saw through his veneer, he was really quite entertaining.

  “Are you sure? I promise I’ll be good.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Very, very good.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she said and swatted him with the newspaper lying on the counter. “You’re not staying here. Go home. Shoo.”

  “Fine. I’m out.” His shoulders drooped like a scolded puppy, and he shuffled toward the door. “I hate my hotel room. It’s like a prison up there.”

  “Right.” She opened the front door for him. “A prison with room service and flat-screen TVs and ten-thousand-thread-count sheets. I feel so sorry for you.”

  “Don’t forget the hot tub and sauna,” he said with a wink before she shoved him out the door and closed it behind him.

  Chapter 22

  Standing in the hallway outside Ally and Jack’s apartment, Tasha rubbed sweaty palms on her pants and cast a nervous glance at Elijah. It was Sunday and time for their monthly dinner. He’d been smoking a cigarette outside the building when she’d arrived and rode up the elevator with her. Standing beside her, both hands shoved into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. Except for the blue tint to his spiked hair, he looked almost normal in a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. He shot her a mischievous grin.

  “Damn, girl. You act like you’re going to the dentist or something.” He stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. The gentle squeeze of his fingers and the stroke of his thumbs along the nape of her neck eased the tension forming there. “You’re all tied up in knots.” She gave a tiny groan of relief as Jack opened the door.

  “Do you guys need a minute?” Jack asked, dimples on full display. He pretended to close the door.

  “Jack, you sorry motherfucker.” Elijah shoved a booted foot over the threshold.

  “You’re the sorry fucker,” Jack replied.

  Randy emerged from behind Jack, wrapped an arm around Elijah’s neck, and dragged him into the room. A round of backslapping, hand-shaking, and name-calling ensued. They wrestled around like rowdy teenagers, faces beaming with delight. Their infectious enthusiasm brightened the room. She’d forgotten they were his friends, too. Some of her tension eased until heat prickled over her skin and her eyes met Luke’s. A tight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. The sounds of the room dissolved until it was only the two of them.

  “Hi,” he said in a soft voice.

  “Hi,” she replied. A month had passed since he’d kissed her at the pool, but it seemed like forever. Somehow the distance between them had closed, and they stood toe to toe. The woodsy scent of his cologne teased her. She drew in a deep breath, savoring him. She searched his face, memorizing the long, straight sweep of his nose and the broad, sharp angles of his jaw. Shadows smudged beneath his eyes. Stubble covered his cheeks. She wanted to take his face in her hands and make him smile.

  They both spoke at the same time. Their words tumbled over each other, awkward and stilted.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said.

  “Hi, Tasha.” This came from Sherry. She moved into the room, fresh-faced and smiling, to hook her arm through Luke’s.

  Tasha’s stomach took an unpleasant dip. The thought of spending the evening with him and his date ranked right up there with oral surgery. He cleared his throat, the sound forced and uncomfortable. She swallowed and glanced down at her feet, wishing someone would come to her rescue. Elijah had abandoned her, absorbed in reconnecting with his buddies. Luke’s gaze remained on her face.

  “Hi,” Tasha said, forcing a smile, and felt relief when Sherry moved to the kitchen with Ally.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he said. She’d forgotten how deep and sexy his voice was. The timbre of it sent a pleasant shiver up her spine.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” She struggled to keep her tone light, but her throat tightened. He’d be able to see the lie, to hear it in her voice. One of his hands gripped her bicep. His lips hovered next to her ear, warming the shell with his breath.

  “You know why,” he murmured.

  “We both know why.” Looking up into his face, she saw her reflection mirrored in the center of his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Her focus flicked to Sherry. “Maybe another time.” Sherry’s gaze bounced between them, and she frowned. Tasha gave her a reassuring smile and backed away. She might have a lot of flaws, but boyfriend stealing wasn’t one of them.

  “It’s about time you got here.” Karly bounded out of the kitchen to greet Tasha. She gave her a quick hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” Tasha asked with a frown.

  A knock at the door drew everyone’s gaze.

  “Is someone else coming?” Jack asked in his whiskey voice, eyes trained accusingly on Ally.

  “No,” she replied, returning his glare with an adoring twinkle. “You probably invited someone during your drunken outpouring of love at Felony the other night.”

  “Shit, baby. You know I wouldn’t do that.” He approached Ally, arms spread wide, palms facing upward, in a gesture of innocence belied by the smile on his face.

  Everyone stared while she opened the door. David Jameson filled the doorway, broad shoulders outlined by a sharp gray suit jacket. As always, he was dressed to the nines. A crisp white dress shirt hung untucked beneath his jacket. For the first time since Tasha had known him, he wore a pair of jeans, faded in all the right places. His broad hand rested on the back of a tall, gorgeous young brunette. She flowed into the room like a spill of water over rocks, graceful and fluid.

  “I hope we’re not late,” David said, a charming smile on his lips.

  “You’re always late,” Randy said, his arm once again around Elijah’s neck, holding him in a tight headlock.

  “Welcome to my humble abode, motherfucker,” Jack said and slapped his hand into David’s to pump it.

  “Our humble abode,” Ally interjected. Although her face gave nothing away, after a few years of friendship, Tasha recognized the undercurrent of disapproval in Ally’s tone. So did everyone else. Randy released Elijah, and the two straightened as if waiting for a reprimand from the school principal.

  “Which used to be my humble abode,” David corrected. He swept his gaze over the apartment with eyes too knowing and too perceptive to be harmless. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Looks great, man.” The compliment was given with sincerity and received with a huge smile from Jack, a frown from Ally.

  Tasha glanced at Luke to see if he noticed the tension. His eyebrows raised in response. Of course, he noticed. He was perceptive to everyone except her.

  “Ally, do you have any more paper towels?” Chelsea came out of the kitchen, her baby girl balanced on one hip and an empty paper towel holder in the opposite hand.

  As Jack’s ex-wife
, she held a tenuous position in the group. Two years ago, she’d arrived in town, drug-addled and pregnant, and had tried without success to pin the child on Jack. The parenthood of the little girl still remained a mystery. Jack tolerated her presence because Ally liked her. Tasha didn’t know her very well but knew how it felt to be an outsider. She flashed a smile at her, and Chelsea smiled back.

  Elijah stepped forward, a delighted grin on his face. “Chels? Oh, my God. How are you?” At the sound of his voice, she turned to face him. All the color drained from her face. “Did you know you’ve got a little creature on your hip?”

  “Fucker,” she said. She spun around and went back into the kitchen. The door closed behind her. Everyone stared at Elijah.

  He shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Good to see some things never change.”

  Chapter 23

  Luke’s gaze followed Tasha, taking in the details of her face, like he hadn’t seen her in weeks instead of a few days. He wanted to corner her and keep her all to himself, find out what she’d been doing, hear all the interesting things about her week. The unfolding drama kept him pinned to the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  “Could I use your restroom?” David’s date broke the silence with a question directed to Ally, and everyone took a collective breath of relief. “It was a long ride over here, and I need to freshen up a bit.”

  “Sure. Of course.” Always poised, Ally smiled at the new girl. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

  “Giselle,” she said and extended a manicured hand to Ally. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The room snapped back to normal. Everyone moved toward the dining table but Elijah. He lagged behind until Tasha placed a hand on his back. The small gesture of affection boiled the blood in Luke’s veins. She looked better than ever. Tight black vinyl pants molded over the curves of her ass and those long, sexy legs. Her breasts floated like tight, round tennis balls beneath her silk shirt, the outline of her nipple piercings faintly visible beneath the thin material. Attraction bubbled in his veins. Elijah’s eyes met hers, and she smiled up at him. Luke cleared his throat to ease the constriction.