by Rhonda James
“Hey, Victoria!”
I fussed with my guitar while out of the corner of my eye, I watched them fall into an easy embrace.
“Hawk! My God. You were amazing up there! I’m very impressed,” she beamed.
Hawk guffawed.
I swore under my breath.
“No. Seriously. I was entranced.”
“Aw, shucks. You’re gonna make me blush,” he twanged with all the southern charm he could muster.
I slammed the cover of my guitar case and swore again.
The rest of the guys jogged down to meet her, acting as if it had been a decade since they’d last seen her. Christ. It had only been twenty-some odd hours. I rolled my eyes and knew I had to join them. Unlike the rest of those assholes, I took my sweet-ass time walking the short distance to where they were all gathered.
By this time, Blade had joined them. Hawk had his arm around V’s shoulders and was entertaining Blade with a tale about our drive down. I listened as they bantered easily back and forth, never once feeling the slightest urge to add my two cents—even when Hawk got the story all wrong.
Styx jerked his chin toward me. “What’s up, Sin? Why so quiet?”
I furrowed my brow. “Dude. I just spent the last three hours singing. I’m resting my voice.” J.T. snorted, and I watched the left brow on Styx’s face rise a good inch. The rest of the group stared on blankly.
“I’m curious about something,” V announced, breaking the awkward silence. “I was thinking about your nicknames, and I get how you came up with all of yours.” She gestured to the guys. “But why do you call him Sin?”
The muscles in my neck tensed.
“’Cause this motherfucker ain’t pure enough for a cross!” Hawk cackled as he hooked an arm around my neck. “Steer clear of this one, sweetheart. He’s evil.” I attempted to elbow him in the gut, but the little fucker was too quick.
The corners of her pretty mouth tipped into a partial smirk. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m sure he possesses at least one redeeming quality.”
I sneered. Her response was to stick the tip of her pretty pink tongue out at me.
I have an idea where you can stick that tongue.
Blade spoke and put an end to our silent showdown. “Where you staying, Victoria?”
“Oh,”—she turned from me and gave her eyes a half-roll—“what a fiasco that was. Thanks to some convention thingy, there’s not a single hotel room available, so, ironically enough, I ended up at the motel right across the street.”
Blade’s jaw dropped. “You actually slept at Star Motel last night?”
V and Hawk spoke simultaneously.
“Yes.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the Star Motel?”
Blade gave his head a firm shake. “That’s not the safest place for you to be staying. How long are you in town?”
“I don’t know. I really hadn’t given it much thought. I guess I just needed to get away, and now that I have, I’m content with taking things as they come,” she answered with a shrug of her right shoulder.
“Blade, we’ve got plenty of room at the house,” Hawk offered. I blanched at the idea.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Blade smirked behind his hand.
I wanted to strangle them both. “Wait a minute. There are only four bedrooms. Four rooms. Four of us.”
Styx chimed in, “My room has two doubles. J.T. can bunk with me. Right, buddy?”
“Fine by me,” J.T. easily agreed. “But if I bring home a girl, your ass is on the sofa.”
“Whatevs.”
“I don’t want to put anyone out. The room I’m in seems harmless enough, save for the questionable state of the sheets,” V’s voice drifted off.
Hawk cuffed the back of my head. “Dude! We can’t have this pretty lady sleeping in questionable sheets. Fuck only knows who all shot their load in that room. Fuck that! It’s settled.” He turned back to V. “Victoria, we’re going to that shitty motel and collecting your stuff.”
He snapped his fingers and started for the door. Styx and J.T. followed, while V’s feet remained rooted in place. She looked up at me with eyes wide. Plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
“Are you okay with this?” Her question had been aimed at both Blade and myself, though her eyes were locked with mine.
I could have been a dick and told her ‘Fuck no,’ it wasn’t okay. I could have walked over to that motel and ripped Hawk a new one for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. I could have done a lot of shitty things, and I probably should have. But I ended up doing the exact opposite.
I ran a hand over the back of my neck, kneading the taut muscles, and met her nervous gaze with a nod. “It’s cool so long as you don’t mind living with three slobs.”
She hitched a brow. “Only three? If you’re anything like your brother, then you’re a pig.”
My eyes instantly narrowed. “No way. I’m a neat freak. Just wait. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“Um hmmm. I’ll believe it when I see it.” She smirked before walking ahead of me.
“That one there is full of sugar and fire. I like her.” Blade nodded after her before making his way back to the bar.
“That makes two of us,” I murmured under my breath.
I waited until she was a good ways ahead of me before I chanced moving.
My eyes might or might not have been fixated on her ass as I trailed after her.
CHAPTER 11
V
A loud noise jolted me out of a deep sleep. The first full night’s sleep I’d had since packing up and moving in with the guys four days ago. I bolted upright in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I glanced around the still unfamiliar room. Maybe it had been a part of my dream. Nothing appeared to be out of place, so naturally, I snuggled back under the warm comforter in hopes of resuming the dream I’d been having. While my body told me to stay in bed, the sun streaming through the window and a niggling twinge in my bladder told me it was time to wake up.
I dangled my legs over the side of the bed and yawned, snagging a pair of leggings from the foot of the bed as I made my way to the adjoining bathroom Dylan and I were sharing. The comment he’d made about him being a neat freak had been true. I’d studied his movements with great interest, and not once had I found anything out of place in our shared space. The man even rinsed out the sink after brushing his teeth. Hello! I’d shared a bathroom with my brother for sixteen years and couldn’t say the same about him.
The rest of the guys however…
J.T. was famous for leaving articles of clothing strewn about the living room. Or any room for that matter. The man changed clothes more frequently than my old college roommate.
Styx was always hungry. My best guess was that drummers burn a lot of energy while playing. Either that or the poor guy had a tapeworm, because everywhere he went, you’d find a trail of wrappers left in his wake. Candy bars. Chips. The lonely remains of an empty gummy candy wrapper. Seriously? I might have had a mild addiction to gummies. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that mild. On occasion, when left unsupervised, I might have OD’d on the suckers a time or two. For someone like me, finding an empty wrapper was the equivalent of cruel and unusual punishment. Could the guy not leave a girl one lonely gummy? I think the bigger question was, how the hell did he manage to eat all that junk food and not gain an ounce?
Then there was Hawk… Sweet. Funny. Charismatic. Hawk. Let’s just say the man was a walking disaster when it came to tidiness. His personal hygiene was on point. But his room…
Oh boy.
Last night, while on my way back from the kitchen, I’d passed by his room and found him fiddling around on his guitar. I poked my head through the crack in the door, intending to say good night, and that’s when I’d seen it. He’d been in Panama City less than a week, but his room looked as if he’d been sleeping in it for weeks on end. Clothes were strewn all over the floor. Dishes sat abandoned on the nightstand. The bed had
been the only pristine space in the entire room. Guess the man had his priorities.
I’d just finishing brushing my teeth when I heard another crash. This time, it was followed by a string of colorful curse words.
I hurried downstairs only to discover that Hawk was in the kitchen, wearing a frilly apron and surrounded by what appeared to be every pot and pan in the cupboard. Every available surface was occupied by a pan, plate, or dish of some sort. When I reached the center of the room, he looked up from the chaos and flashed his pearly whites.
“Good morning, Princess Victoria.”
At first, I was confused, thrown by the princess reference, but he merely pointed to my shirt, and when I saw what I was wearing, I couldn’t help but giggle.
In my haste to find out what was going on, I’d forgotten to change out of my Princess Belle T-shirt. Of all the princesses, Belle was definitely my favorite, and I particularly loved this shirt because it was so soft.
I toyed nervously with the frayed hem. “Good morning. You’re up early.”
“Shit! I didn’t wake you, did I? I’m sorry. Did you sleep any better last night?”
“Much better. Thank you.” I took another look around the destroyed kitchen. “Hawk? What on earth are you up to?”
“Making pancakes,” he answered with a silent duh. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
I surveyed the damage and chuckled. “It looks as if the entire contents of the fridge and cabinets exploded and you were left standing in the aftermath.”
His hand immediately went to his chest in a show of mock hurt. “You wound me, Princess Victoria. Here I am, trying to be nice by making you breakfast, and you mock me.” He finished by scrunching up his face and pretending to bawl. This guy was quite a character.
I chewed my thumbnail to keep from laughing too hard. “No. I’m not mocking you. I promise. It’s just that…well…you have made a pretty big mess.”
He glanced to his left and then his right and gave his shoulder a half-hearted shrug. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did make a wee bit of a mess. But it was only in the interest of surprising you with breakfast in bed.”
My heart softened on impact. “You were going to bring me pancakes in bed? That is so sweet.”
Hawk continued pouring on the charm. “Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m a sweetheart.” Behind us, someone groaned.
“Yeah. You’re a regular Aunt Jemima,” Dylan grunted. When he stepped into the kitchen, he took one look around the room and swore. “Who the fuck is going to clean up this mess?”
Hawk stripped off the frilly apron and sprinted past us. “Sorry! I’ll cook all the meals, but these hands don’t do dishes. Can’t risk damaging the callouses.” He held up his hands and wiggled them over his head, then he continued up the stairs.
“So much for breakfast in bed,” I murmured before picking up a dishtowel.
He pointed to my shirt and smirked. “Cute.”
I cringed, wishing for everything I’d just changed the damn thing. “Tell you what. You wash, and I’ll dry. After that, I’ll take you all out to breakfast. My way of saying thanks for allowing me to crash here.”
Dylan grunted once more before reaching over and snatching the towel from my hand. “You wash, and I’ll dry. Breakfast is negotiable.”
I stepped around him to plug the sink before turning on the faucet and adding detergent. “You don’t want to go out for breakfast with me?”
He handed me a stack of dirty dishes. “Didn’t say that.”
My face scrunched up in confusion. “So, which part of breakfast is negotiable?”
“The bill,” he replied matter-of-factly. It took a moment, but when I finally caught on, my mouth fell open in understanding. He didn’t want me paying his way.
Over the years, I’d often wondered if he looked at me differently because I’d grown up with money. It’s funny because with Michael, I’d never given it any thought. We’d both grown up privileged. It had been easy to just assume that because of his father’s wealth, Dylan had grown up the same way we had. Standing shoulder to shoulder, feeling the tension that rolled off him, it was clear to see that hadn’t been the case. Whether because of the divorce or his own pride, Dylan had obviously worked hard for everything he’d acquired. Michael wouldn’t have thought twice about allowing me to foot the bill. Any other time, I might have argued, but something told me that would only drive a wedge further between us. This was the most we’d spoken since the moment I’d first dropped them off. For some peculiar reason, now that I had him talking, I wasn’t ready for the conversation to end.
I cleared my throat as I dunked my hands beneath the surface of the hot, soapy water and started washing. A mountain of silverware and eight glasses later, I finally trusted myself to speak.
“I really enjoyed your show the other night.”
“Yeah, I kinda figured that out judging by the way you were dancing,” he admitted gruffly.
I stopped scrubbing and grimaced. “Oh, God. You saw that? I’m so embarrassed.”
He nudged me with his shoulder. “Naw, don’t say that. I just meant you looked as if you were really lost in the music. Like you weren’t just listening to it. You were living it. You know?”
My stomach relaxed, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. My next words came out on a whisper. “That’s exactly how I felt. Your voice…” I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. His chin dipped toward his chest as he leaned forward and waited for me to continue. “It’s very unique. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard anything like it.”
His gaze went up and to the left as he shook his head. “That was either a compliment or the most polite insult I’ve ever heard.”
“No, no. I sincerely meant that as a compliment. You have an amazing voice, Sin.”
His eyes closed briefly, and a smile flirted with the corners of his pouty mouth. Then he cleared his throat and sidestepped to close the distance between us. “I was wondering how long it’d take for you to call me that.”
A rush of boldness filled me, and the next thing I knew, I was facing him with my arms draped casually around his neck. He looked taken aback at first, but he didn’t move away, so I took that as a good sign. “Yeah, well, I guess it just took a few days to catch on. But I have to disagree with the guys.” I pressed up on my toes to whisper in his ear. “You’re not nearly as bad as you pretend to be.”
The air crackled between us as my mind raced with thoughts of all the dirty things I’d let him to do to me if only he’d offer. Things I’d often dreamed of since that fateful night four years ago when we’d almost kissed. He might not have done it then, but there was absolutely nothing stopping him now.
I studied his face, tracing a finger over the small scar on his brow where the piercing used to be. His eyes must have read the question on my mind.
“I took them all out after my arrest,” he said quietly. “Seemed pointless to have them done again. All part of keeping some demons in the past, I suppose.”
“Ah,” I replied in an even softer voice. “I like this look even more.”
Sin rested his forehead against mine. Staring at my mouth as if he wanted to claim it.
Do it, I silently pleaded, remembering something he’d said the last time we found ourselves in this position. “Lips this beautiful would look spectacular sliding down my cock.”
“So…” he whispered. Still staring.
Seconds ticked by and still nothing happened. My heart sank.
“You’re never going to kiss me, are you?”
This was nuts. We were two hot-blooded, available adults. What could be wrong with a little harmless kiss?
Judging by the tension radiating off his body, everything.
I smiled and tugged on his shirtsleeve until a small smile appeared. “Why won’t you kiss me?”
A pained expression caused his eyes to crinkle, but he never said a word, just picked up a pan he’d already dried and ran the towel over it a few more times as the awkwar
d silence stretched on between us.
“It’s complicated, V. Even if I wanted to kiss you, I couldn’t.” Our eyes met briefly before he diverted his gaze and took a step back.
“It’s because of him, isn’t it?” I already knew the answer, and all it did was make me curse the day I’d ever kissed Michael Cross in that damn laundry room.
“That and many other reasons.” He took my hand in his and lifted my open palm to his lips for a soft kiss. It might have only been my palm, but I felt it right between my legs. “I think it’s best if we keep things the way they are between us. I don’t want to make any mistakes I’ll regret later.”
The sting of his words cooled anything taking place between my legs. While his words hurt, I knew he was right. I might need a man to help me forget Michael, but Sin was never going to be that man.
I smiled to save face, and we went back to work on the dishes, trying to act as if the last five minutes hadn’t transpired. “Well, I don’t know how you feel, but I think it’d be in our best interest to keep Hawk out of the kitchen.”
He eyed what we’d washed before surveying what still lay waiting to be tackled and growled, “No shit. The man’s an absolute menace.”
“But you love him anyhow,” I volleyed, seeing right through his tough guy façade.
“I’d die for him.”
I believe you would, my subconscious agreed.
Stuck on his last words, I worked the rag in circles over the plate I’d been washing. I didn’t know how long I washed the same plate, but at some point, he reached into the water to retrieve it, and for the briefest of moments, our hands met below the suds. His calloused fingers wrapped around my pinky and ring finger, sending a jolt all the way up my arm. My breath caught in my throat as my heart thumped wildly inside my chest. Startled, we broke apart and stepped away from the traitorous water. Soapy suds dripped from the tips of my fingers onto the wood floor. It wouldn’t be a mistake, my brain whispered. Rather than meet my gaze, his eyes remained focused on the puddle forming at my feet.