Going Under (The Blackhawk Boys Book 3)

by Lexi Ryan

  I keep my eyes closed and focus on the feel of his thumb traveling along my jaw and his breath against my mouth, my ear, my neck. He nuzzles me there, his beard a thrilling scratch against the tender skin.

  And still, I keep my eyes closed. I know what happens when I open them. The dream ends. The fantasy breaks under the weight of our imperfections. We’ve been here before.

  He doesn’t seem in any hurry to end the moment, either. He slides a hand into my hair and we cling to each other until our ragged breathing steadies. Even then, he holds me still. There’s a distinct sweetness to the way his face is buried in my neck, a comfort and warmth that feels like home.

  And maybe that’s why I open my eyes. Why I break the spell. Why I pull away.

  Sebastian is staring at me, but the heat in his eyes earlier has been replaced by something else.

  He looks upset. No, he looks wrecked and filled with the last thing I want to see on his face: regret.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sebastian

  As I watch her open her eyes, my chest aches so much and my heart is pounding so hard that I’m sure if she listens closely she’ll know everything. About Dad. About Martina. About how much I’ve fucked up and how desperately I need her to tell me it’s all going to be okay. Somehow, if she’s says it, I might believe it.

  My hands are fucking shaking. There’s too much noise in my head, and the thrill of touching her has left me wanting so much more.

  She must see the panic on my face. She shakes her head and the softness leaves her eyes. “Don’t do it, Sebastian. Don’t stand there after touching me and tell me it was a mistake. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t you dare apologize for kissing me again. Don’t you dare tell me this was a mistake.”

  I was nothing but wild need when I walked in the door, and I didn’t even stop to appreciate that she’s in a robe. She’s barefoot and her toenails are painted a soft, light pink. It’s the color of innocence and femininity. God, she’s beautiful.

  “Don’t,” she repeats, her voice shaky.

  I take a lock of hair between two fingers and shake my head. “I didn’t say anything.”

  The light trill of her ringtone sounds from the other room. “Shit,” she whispers.

  “What?”

  She lifts her hand to her mouth. “That’s probably Logan. I was supposed to meet him…”

  I slide my hand into her hair and graze her bottom lip with my thumb. It’s red and swollen from my kiss, and I’ve only gotten started. “Tell him something came up. Stay here with me.”

  She catches my thumb between her teeth and bites down softly. I groan, long and low, at the feel of her lips around my finger, tongue grazing the tip. “Fuck,” I growl before lowering my mouth to hers again.

  She opens under me and moans into the kiss. I’m ready for everything her soft sounds promise. I want to take her in the shower, hold her in the bed, fill the tub, and get her off while she’s wrapped around me in the water.

  She’s breathless when she breaks the kiss. “Stay here with you and what? Is this how we’re being friends now?” I reach for the tie on her robe, and she grabs my hand to stop me. “Sebastian, what’s changed?”

  I need you.

  Her phone rings again from the other room, and she throws a helpless glance in the direction of the phone before turning back to me. “Can you tell me this is going to end differently than last time? Can you promise me you aren’t going to declare this a big mistake in five minutes or an hour?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t fucking want to analyze it right now.”

  “Logan’s waiting,” she whispers. “I should probably go.”

  “Right. Logan. Tell my friend I said hi.” I know my sneer isn’t fair, but I’m feeling selfish. I’m feeling cheated. I’m feeling like life isn’t fucking fair, and I want a break. I want Alex.

  She lifts her hand to her lips. “You don’t get to be mad at me about this when I don’t even know what you want from me.”

  I rake my gaze over her then back up to her face. “I think you know exactly what I want.”

  She lifts her chin. “You want to get me naked? You want to take me to the bedroom and spread my legs? Maybe you don’t even want to bother going as far as the bedroom?”

  “For starters.” I nuzzle her neck. “Dammit, Alex, I promise I’d make you feel so good.”

  “And then what?” She gasps and arches into me when I suck at the skin beneath her ear. She slides her hand into my hair. “Sebastian… God, please, I…”

  “Please what, Alex? Tell me what you want. Anything. Tell me, and it’s yours.”

  She releases my hair and whispers, “I want you to stop.”

  My gut goes cold. I back away. “Right. Because Logan.”

  “No. Because this is us. What if I tell you to take me to bed? What are we after that? Fuck buddies? Ex-friends? Coworkers who can’t look each other in the eye?” She licks her lips. “Maybe you did me a favor when you put on the brakes last month. Because you were right. I need more than just a hookup. I can’t do this unless I know there’s going to be more. With you, I’d need more.” There’s a note of hope in her voice, like she’s waiting for me to say everything is different now. “Has something changed? Should I believe this is going somewhere?”

  I swallow hard. “I can’t change the past. If I could, I would have a long time ago.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I care about who you used to be?” She shakes her head. “Sebastian, you aren’t that guy anymore. I’m not even convinced you were ever as terrible as you believe.”

  “But I was. I was him long enough to fuck everything up.”

  “What did you fuck up? I want to understand.” Her voice rises and echoes off the vaulted ceiling. “What did you do that was so terrible that I can’t be with you?”

  I stroke the scar at the corner of her mouth then follow it down her neck to where it widens and disappears into her robe. “I don’t deserve you.” My words come out the husky rattle of someone who’s been trying to breathe water. “If you were with me, there’d come a day that you’d regret it.” I lift my eyes to hers. “But if you say the word, I’ll fucking fight Logan and anyone else in my way for every minute I can get between now and that day.”

  * * *

  Alexandra

  Sebastian offered me what I’ve wanted for years, then left me standing in the middle of the foyer, trembling with some emotion I couldn’t fully identify.

  I texted Logan that I was going to be late, and by the time I finish getting dressed and make it to the Lemon Rind, my mind is fuzzy from a thousand thoughts traveling in a hundred directions. My hands are trembling, and I can still feel the scratch of Sebastian’s beard on my neck.

  Logan is waiting for me by the front doors, and flashes a concerned smile when I enter. “Everything okay?”

  I touch my fingertips to my lips. Are they swollen? Are my cheeks red? When Logan looks at me, does he know what I’ve just done? Can he see that Sebastian just kissed me, touched me?

  “Alexandra?” I’ve always loved the way Logan says my name without shortening it, but with the memory of Sebastian’s exhale of “Alex” hot against my ear, the four syllables feel less like my name and more like this girl I’ve been trying to be. “What happened?”

  “Before I left the house tonight, a friend came over and he…” I open my mouth and close it again. My eyes are burning. I’m so confused. Part of me wants to be angry with Sebastian for confusing me right when I was finally moving forward. And yet another part wants to back-pedal to the moment he put his hand between my legs and find a way to keep him there—to rewrite history and let him take me to the bedroom, feel him slide between my legs.

  “He hurt you?” Logan steps toward the door, and I reach out to grab his wrist before he can push his way outside.

  “No.” I shake my head. “He kissed me.”

  Flinching, Logan drops his hand, his jaw going hard, and I aver
t my eyes. He’s been nothing but kind to me, and I’ve never given him a real chance.

  “I let him kiss me.” And I let him do more. And if you hadn’t called, maybe I’d have let it go even further. “It just happened, and I know you and I are new, and there’s nothing exclusive here, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you.”

  He spins around, swings, and punches the wall. “Who is he?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He hangs his head and rubs his knuckles. “It does if you have feelings for him.”

  “If I didn’t care about him, tonight wouldn’t have happened.” My stomach flip-flops. How did I let that happen?

  Because it’s Sebastian.

  Because you’ve always loved him.

  Because tonight something was wrong and he needed you.

  Maybe it’s the last that bothers me the most. I let Sebastian touch me because I wanted him to, and that would have been enough, but adding to that was the feeling that something was off with him tonight, the sense that he needed me, the sense that his offer to try to be more was rooted in a desperate attempt to escape something else. I don’t want to be his new high of choice—a drug he indulges in to feel better and then feels guilty about later.

  Logan steps toward me and reaches for my hand. I instinctively pull away, and he flinches and sighs heavily. “So it’s over?” he asks softly.

  I hate myself a little right now. Here’s this sweet man who wants to give me everything I should want, and I’m so hung up on Sebastian that I can’t accept it. But I’d hate myself more if I let this continue. “It’s not fair to you, Logan. You’re such a nice guy, and I really care about you.”

  He shakes his head as he looks away, but he can’t hide the pain on his face. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I don’t want to be the nice guy. I want to be the guy you want.” He steps back and swallows hard. “But you don’t. You want him. And if I thought fighting for you would change that, Alexandra, I wouldn’t just fight. I’d fight dirty.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, because his words are too close to an echo of what Sebastian himself said to me. The only difference is that Sebastian’s bottom line includes his promised ominous ending. “I don’t deserve that.”

  “Fuck that.” He drags a hand through his hair then stops and goes behind the counter to pour himself two fingers of whiskey. He shoots it back and closes his eyes a beat before looking at me again. “Whoever he is, I hope he deserves you. But if he doesn’t, you know where to find me.”

  “Thank you, Logan. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He plants his legs wide and crosses his arms. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  * * *

  Martina’s Journal

  You know how every soon-to-be seventeen-year-old girl dreams of spending her summer vacation? Not in fucking rehab.

  That’s right. Mom and Dad are on to me. I got sloppy, and they decided I needed to spend my summer break at an in-patient facility in Indianapolis, where they can teach me why methamphetamines are going to fuck with my life and my future.

  I don’t know what they want from me. It’s not like I’ve stopped going to school, and my grades have slipped but I’m not flunking out or anything. Despite the incessant appeals to female vanity at this facility, I don’t look like those meth junkies on the billboards. I’m smart about it, and I’m definitely no fucking addict.

  But they don’t care. Their narrow view of the world is all black and white: All drugs are bad. Use once, and you’ll end up on the street. Today you’re having fun, but tomorrow you’re spreading your legs for any guy able to supply your next high. As if.

  Alex cried when they dropped me off. She hugged me and said, “Please just get better.” What, am I sick? Because I’ve felt more alive the last six months than I ever have.

  I know she cares, but maybe she’s a little jealous too, ya know? She’s having such a hard time with me living my own life. Even when you’re fraternal twins, people want to throw you together in every facet of your life as you grow up. They want you to dress alike, take the same dance class, wear the same clothes, love the same books. Alex and I have never been like that, but until lately we have been close. I just think a natural part of getting older is spending more time doing different things. But I’m not sure she sees it that way.

  Of course, she doesn’t know about Mr. Bedroom Eyes, and I’m not sure if knowing about him would make her feel better or worse. Probably worse. He’s older, for one, married, for another, and he’s not afraid of an occasional buzz.

  Anyway, I’m here for the indefinite future to “get sober.” As if I don’t know what sober is like. As if I couldn’t stop on my own if I wanted to.

  So I guess I’ll be back to writing in this stupid journal all the time, because God knows there’s nothing better to do around here.

  Time for me to go eat the shit they call food. Joy. More later.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sebastian

  On Saturday, I go to Mom’s after the game. I haven’t talked to Alex since I left her in her robe last night. Did she go to Logan? Did she tell him about me? Did she let him touch her? The questions are only drowned out by the questions about Dad and what the hell I’m supposed to do about that.

  When I walk in the door, I hear Mom and Olivia arguing in the back of the house. They’ve been doing that a lot since Olivia started college, and maybe even more since she got knocked up.

  I can’t make out what they’re saying at first, but then I hear Mom say, “Stop it! You don’t know that. You’re going to have a great life.” Olivia mumbles something I can’t make out, and then I hear my mom say, “This is my choice, Olivia. Please, baby. I need you to understand I won’t live like that again.”

  My gut twists at the tremor I hear in Mom’s voice. What are they talking about?

  Their voices are coming from Olivia’s room, so I head in that direction, but I stop when I hear Mom say, “It won’t be easy, but we’ll get through it together.”

  “Haven’t we been through enough?” Olivia says. “It’s not fair.”

  I draw in a sudden sharp gasp and realize I’ve been holding my breath. Is the cancer back? I won’t live like that again. My hand trembles as I turn the knob and push open the door to Olivia’s bedroom. She and Mom are sitting on the edge of the bed, turned sideways to face each other.

  Mom sees me and the blood drains from her face. She tilts her head to the side. “Sebastian…”

  “But you got the mastectomy so it wouldn’t come back.” I shake my head. “The cancer…”

  Olivia throws her hand over her mouth and tears spill from her eyes.

  “No, Bash. That’s not what we’re talking about,” Mom says. “I’m healthy.” She looks to Olivia, but her brave smile cracks as she turns back to me.

  “Then what is it?”

  She takes a deep breath and schools her expression to reflect complete calm. “I can’t do it anymore, Bash. Sometimes people need to take their punishment. I spent years looking the other way while he sold his soul.” Her composure cracks when she lifts her gaze to mine. “While he sold yours.”

  She knew?

  Olivia presses her hand against her mouth to stifle a sob, and Mom takes her hand and squeezes it. “I found out what he was doing. He said he had an opportunity to make some fast money and he took it. He’s spent the last month trying to buy my silence, trying to drown me in gifts so I’d stay.” She stands and crosses the room to stand in front of me. She’s almost a foot shorter than I am, but I feel like her little boy when she holds my face in her hands. “I’m ashamed that I ever gave him the impression I could be bought. I’m ashamed of so much, and I couldn’t sink into that kind of shame again. It would kill me. I found an opportunity to escape him and I took it. Forgive me.”

  My eyes burn and my hands shake as I wrap my hands around her wrists and pull her against me in a tight hug. Her body shakes as she releases a sob, again and again and again. “Forgive you for what?
”

  “For letting him almost ruin your life,” she says between sobs. “And for turning him in. Your father was arrested tonight.”

  * * *

  “Do you want to tell me why you’re so miserable?” Dante asks. I came to the Cavern to drink after leaving Mom’s. I was going to hide from my feelings by drinking, but I’m on my second beer when Dante slides into the seat across from me.

  “I’m not miserable,” I lie. But maybe it’s not a lie. Maybe I’ve sunk to a level that’s worse than miserable. Because my father lost his mind, and Alex is falling for someone else. There’s an ache that sits on my chest like a boulder slowly compressing my lungs. It’s an ache I’ve felt before. I felt it after the fire, when Martina was declared dead and Alex was in critical condition. I felt it when I was at Purdue, and Olivia called to tell me Mom had cancer again and my parents didn’t want me to know. Alex is the only person who’s ever been able to make this ache budge, and now she’s his. It hurts to imagine her with him, and I feel like an asshole for wishing she weren’t, because I know he’ll treat her right. I’m selfish and jealous and want every one of her smiles and laughs for myself.

  Dante sighs. “You want to tell me another one?”

  “Dad was arrested tonight. He had a shit-ton of inventory, and they found it. It’s bad.” I shake my head. “But it feels good, so I’m not sure what that says about me.”

  “Fuck.” He grabs my beer out from in front of me, and downs half of it. “You were right. He was back in it.”

  “Maybe he was never out,” I whisper. “I don’t fucking know. I’m just glad…” Glad it’s over. Glad he can’t infect my life again. “It’s like he didn’t learn anything after the fire.”

  We’re silent for a while. I finish my beer and Dante orders us two more while I try to sort out the tangle of emotions making a mess of my thoughts. Mom’s guilt. Mine. Dad’s arrest. The fact that she had the courage to do what I should have.