by Sybil Bartel
“You’re a dick for not calling Sam last night. She thought you were pissed at her.”
Pause. “Sam’s pissed at me?”
“No, you dumb fuck, she’d sad.”
“Where is she?” Finally, he sounded worried.
“I took her to school.”
Myles sighed. “Is she okay?”
How the fuck would I know? “She’s fucking perfect. I’m done being your go between.” I knew blaming Myles for this morning was only transference but I didn’t care.
“All right, I hear you. Listen, come by the studio tonight. I want you to listen to what we have so far. I’m gonna grab a few hours’ sleep, then pick up Sam but I’ll be back here by eight. Call the guys, meet me here.”
“You fucking call them.” I hung up.
I was putting on music when Carly came out of the shower. Soap, fresh, damp hair hanging down her back, soft jeans, tank top—she was everything I never wanted. And right now, I couldn’t think of a thing except getting her naked.
She walked past me and I caught a strand of her hair.
With only a slight tremor, she went completely still.
“Works for you.” I held the strand of hair out. I wasn’t messing with her, I was serious. “Wet hair, no makeup, no skirt.” I slid my eyes down her body then brought them back up. “It works.”
She didn’t say anything.
Just to see what she’d do, I let my fingers run through the strand then brushed the back of my hand down the length of her arm, slow, deliberate.
Trailing my hand like she was in a hypnotic trance, her eyes followed my every movement.
I picked up her fingers and brought them to my lips, just holding them there. Then I lowered her hand to my chin, rubbing her fingers slowly along my unshaven jaw.
“Hungry?” I murmured.
Eyes glazed, lips parted, breathing hard, Carly didn’t reply.
“Do you know what I want?” I whispered, bringing her hand back to my mouth. I grazed my teeth along one of her fingers, my tongue barely touching the tip before I ran her finger along my bottom lip.
When her eyes fluttered shut, I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my free arm around her and pulled. Her small warm body fell against mine and her breath fanned out across my face. I leaned down, my lips inches from hers and her eyes popped open.
“Breakfast?” she asked, breathless.
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Yeah. Breakfast.” I dropped my arm and let her hand go but I didn’t step back.
Carly sank to her knees and opened the bag on the coffee table.
I stared at the top of her head and all the blood rushed to my dick. She either knew exactly what she’d just done or it was innocent as hell. I was too turned on to care which.
“Did you read my story?” Her voice was steady but her hand shook as she opened a juice.
Inhaling, I walked around her to the couch and sat. “What do you think?” Cagey was the only game I had at the moment.
Holding out one of the coffees, she glanced at me. My fingers brushed hers when I took the cup and she blushed, quickly looking away.
“You either read it that night or you forgot about it completely.” She picked up a muffin.
“Neither,” I lied.
With a mouthful of food, she looked up, surprised.
“Busy.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Muffin?”
“No.” I liked watching her eat. Her fingers were long and thin, sexy.
“Not hungry?”
Not for food. “No.” I took a sip of coffee.
“Really?” She looked shocked or confused, I couldn’t tell which.
“Yeah.”
Carly set the muffin down, studied her hands a minute then looked up at me. “I see you leaving another woman’s house then you bring me food then you tell me you’re not hungry. I don’t know whether to be flattered or really alarmed.”
I couldn’t help it, I chuckled. “The latter.”
“Huh, well, just so you know, I can take you down if I need to.” She said it flippantly but there was an edge of nerves to it.
Carly was a buck ten, maybe buck twenty, practically half my weight and a good foot shorter, wouldn’t happen. Besides, I fought dirty, always had, always would. “I’m sure.”
She cocked her head. “Are you mocking me?”
Yep. “Never.”
“You are! You’re mocking me. Holy cow. Who knew Graham Allen had a sense of humor?” She smiled.
“Maybe you bring out the worst in me.”
“I think you do that all on your own.”
She had no idea. “What do you write about?”
“Things that go bump in the night. Why were you giving Myles’s girlfriend a ride to school?” She picked up her coffee.
Because I was a prick, I deliberately misled her. “I was already there, she needed a ride.”
Something passed across her face but she quickly covered it. “Ah, okay.” Her voice got quiet. “I get it.” Her finger traced the edge of the coffee lid.
“Do you?”
“Loud and clear.” She wouldn’t look at me.
“Look at me, Carly.” I waited till she glanced up. She was so pretty, innocent and pretty, “No misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstandings?” Her voice was just above a whisper.
I didn’t blink. “I’m not boyfriend material.”
“I got that,” she whispered.
“Good.” I felt like an ass. No, scratch that, I was an ass, a total classless prick. It was my excuse for saying what I said next. “Wanna get naked?” I might’ve smiled.
Blushing instantly, she looked away. “Um, yeah, no thanks.” She scooped up the remains of her muffin and went for the kitchen.
On my feet in a flash, I blocked her escape. Moving my hand slow so she wouldn’t flinch, I brushed her hair off her shoulder. “Why not?” I leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I’ll make you feel good.” My palm skimming down her arm, I rubbed my nose across the very edge of her ear and she trembled. Warm, citrus, woman, I breathed in.
“I don’t doubt that.” Her voice unsteady, she shivered.
I wanted to taste her so bad, it hurt. Every muscle in my body was aching to push her against the wall and take her but my mind was screaming at me to stop. One taste, that was all I wanted. One kiss. Then I’d stop. Knuckle under her chin, I leaned in.
And she stepped back. “Can I ask you something?”
Fuck. “Yeah.”
“Why are you here?”
Besides sex, which obviously wasn’t happening? Good question. I only had one excuse. I couldn’t stay away. “You want me to leave?” I smiled. It probably came across as a sneer.
Expression guarded, she watched me for a moment. “I want a lot of things.”
And that was my cue. Time to go. “Only one thing I’m good for, woman. Let me know if you change your mind.” I winked. “Later.” I kissed her cheek and turned.
Before I could walk to the door she caught my hand and honest blue eyes met mine. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“You don’t want me to stay either.” I was out the door before she could reply.
Chapter Ten
Problem
I threw myself into work and ignored the two calls from my dad. I had nothing to say to him and I didn’t want to know what my fucking bitch of a mother was up to. I was pissed at myself for going to Carly’s this morning and I was even more pissed I’d left. I was fucking sinking and I needed to get a grip. She didn’t play my game and I wasn’t going to change who I was for some random chick. Fuck that. I needed sex.
I closed up the shop at six-thirty, went home, worked out then showered. I was at the studio by eight, edgier than shit. Myles looked up from a computer screen when I walked in, his usual smile absent.
“What up?” I put my bass down.
He ran his hands through his hair. “Working.” His shrewd brown gaze passed over me then went back to the computer.
“On?”
“‘Break.’ I want you to do lead locals on it for the album. It’s your song.”
I pulled a chair over. “Your call.” I wasn’t thrilled about doing it. I could carry the song, I just didn’t want the attention.
“You talk to him?”
“Who?” I knew who. I kicked my feet up on the long countertop that held the computers.
“Don’t fuck with me.” Myles always called me on my bullshit. “Did you talk to your dad? Have you seen her?”
“No and no.” I laced my hands over my stomach.
“What are you gonna do when she shows up here?”
“What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do?” Have a fucking tea party?
Myles turned and looked at me. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“I’m not a kid, Myles. She can’t do shit to me. As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead.” And I was done discussing it.
“All right. Just checking. You know I got your back.”
Neil walked in with a bottle of Patron. Six-foot-six freak of a stud, he was a darker version of Myles but on steroids. His arms as big as my thighs, ex-Danish Special Forces, he was guarded as fuck, and if you were stupid enough to dismiss his genteel accent, you deserved what you got.
“Graham.” His voice deep and quiet, Neil inclined his head at me then set the Patron down.
“Hey.” I tried to never fuck with Neil. He was only ten years older but he was on another plane.
Neil glanced around the studio but he didn’t look impressed. Then again, I’d never seen him impressed.
“Where are the other two?” he asked Myles.
I assumed he meant Ben and Aaron. They usually traveled as a pair.
“On their way,” Myles confirmed.
“Good.” Neil looked at me. “We need to talk. You got a problem.”
The hair on the back of my neck bristled and the control room was suddenly too small. “What kinda problem?”
“Georgia Marie Allen.”
Fuck. She was here.
“Who is she to you?” Neil demanded.
“No one.” I dropped my feet, pushed my chair away from Neil and stood. “Where’d she show up?”
“The club. Sit.” The accent was no longer genteel.
Goddamn it. I grabbed my bass. “How long ago did you see her?” I was going to put an end to this bullshit, right now.
Neil took half a step and blocked the door. “I said, sit.”
“I got a problem. Not you, me. Move.”
Neil didn’t move and he didn’t say shit. He didn’t have to. His stare was more effective than a firing squad.
Fuck. Fuck. I sat.
“She showed up at the club this afternoon asking for you. I happened to be there so the manager sent her to me. Either drunk or using, she demanded to see you, then threatened to have you arrested if you didn’t speak with her. She said you owed her. Is that true?”
I—I—fucking owed her? The simmering rage I’d been holding back broke. I shot out of the chair and, because I couldn’t hit a goddamn thing in this fucking cash-suck studio, I stood there. Jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, I waited for the first sign of movement from Neil so I could shoot the fucking messenger.
Two hundred and fifty pounds of Danish Special Forces muscle sized me up and read me like a book. “You sure you want to make that mistake?”
I really wanted to make that mistake. Because that first fucking hit, the only one I’d get in before I went down, would wreck.
Myles stepped in front of me. “You’re not bleeding all over the studio.” I didn’t move. “Doing you a favor, bro.” He raised his eyebrows and held his hands up. “Your life, your choice, but I say we toast the new studio.” He shrugged, all casual, like there wasn’t testosterone-fueled adrenaline ripping through the confined space.
Ben and Aaron walked in.
Aaron’s cheerful mood filled the studio like bad cologne. Excited and animated, he bounced around the space like a fucking ping-pong. I moved to one corner and Neil stood by the door. Plastic cups appeared and Myles, Ben and Aaron toasted the new studio while Neil and I glared at each other. I filled my cup for another and Neil stepped over and did the same. I sneered at him and a hint of a smile hit his mouth.
“Evening the playing field.” He held his cup up. “You’re welcome.”
Cocky fuck. I tossed the Patron back and let the burn settle. “I would’ve gotten one hit in.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He refilled his cup then mine.
The Patron was dulling the anger enough to see that he was probably right. “Why the fuck are you here?” He never took an interest in the band.
“Silent partner. Who is she?”
“My mother.”
Neil nodded and we each drank.
“What does she have over you?” Neil tossed his cup.
“Besides genetics and an attitude? Nothing.”
“I might argue the attitude part but point taken. Is she going to be a problem for the club?” Always worried about the bottom line, this was why Neil handled the club’s finances.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Whatever. I’m outta here.” I tossed my cup and told the rest of them I was leaving.
“Let’s record a few tracks before you take off.” Myles moved to turn on some equipment.
“Tomorrow.” I grabbed my bass.
Myles looked disappointed but he didn’t call me on it, and Ben and Aaron knew better than to say shit to me.
Right before I walked out the door, Neil stopped me. “Don’t let anger rule you.”
I didn’t. It owned me.
Chapter Eleven
Slipping
I didn’t go looking for my mother. I did the next stupidest thing. I drove straight to the bar. If I was lucky, Carly wouldn’t be working.
I wasn’t lucky. And because God frowns on pricks like me, one of the skanks in my contact list was there with a group of friends. She’d already had a few. Two months ago, I would’ve been counting my blessings, instead I sat at the bar and wondered how long I had. Not long. She found me before Carly had even come over.
“Oooh, I was hoping I’d find you here, Graham.” She fingered the collar of my jacket, exaggerating my name as a cloud of cheap perfume choked the air out of my lungs.
“Yeah, why’s that?” What the fuck did I ever see in her, besides the obvious?
“Maybe I want to play?”
Carly came up, smiling, innocent. “What’s your poison, Mr. Allen?”
Okay, maybe not so innocent. “Beer, Patron.” I suddenly wanted to get shit-faced.
“Oooh, I love tequila!” The skank gripped my forearm.
“Good for you,” I snapped, shaking her off.
All doe eyes, Carly glanced at her. “Should I add one to your tab?”
Instantly sizing up the situation, the skank smiled sweetly. “No, I’ll just have a sip of Graham’s.” Her hand trailed down my arm.
I leaned back, glanced at her hand then back at her so there’d be no misunderstanding. “Get your own fucking drink.”
Carly smiled and left.
The dumb-shit girl wasn’t as smart. “So testy, Graham. You know, I can help you with that,” she purred.
“Not happening.”
She pouted. “That’s not what you said last time.”
I prayed to God Carly hadn’t heard that. This was embarrassing. Then I got pissed that I was embarrassed. I took it out on the skank. “Walk away while you still have a shred of dignity.”
“Asshole,” she spat.
“And proud of it.” I refrained from flipping her off before she walked away.
Carly put my drinks in front of me. “Groupie?”
“Skank.” I wasn’t gonna lie.
“Your respect for women humbles me,” she said dryly.
I threw back the Patron and shoved the glass back at her. “Another.”
“I’m assuming you don’t n
eed a lime?”
“Is a lime a fruit?”
She filled my glass. “How about salt? Is salt on the approved list?”
I tossed back the second shot and shoved the glass back at her. “Salt is for pussies. Another.”
Concern crossed her face before she quickly masked it. She refilled the glass. “Any particular reason for the tequila?”
I did the third shot, feeling it. “No. Wanna have sex?”
“Gee, tempting, but no,” she mocked. “Another?”
“Will it increase my chances?” She could mock me all she wanted, I knew she was into me.
“No.”
Damn. “Another.” What the fuck was I doing? I could handle my alcohol but I never went overboard, at least not in front of Carly. Fuck it. I reached for the fourth shot and had it almost to my lips.
“Did you drive the Barracuda tonight?” Carly asked so sweetly, anticipation flooded my stomach then went south.
I threw back the shot. “Yeah.” It burned like hell.
She broke into a huge smile. “Awe-some!”
Then I got it. I couldn’t help it, I smiled. Her excitement was contagious. “You little opportunist.”
“Yep.” Looking proud of herself, she filled the shot glass again. “That’ll be forty bucks.”
I slapped three twenties on the bar, did the extra shot, grabbed my beer and stood. “Keep the change.”
I walked over to the pool tables and waited to play the winner of an ongoing game. An hour later, after losing twice, I made my way back to the bar. My movements exaggerated and slow, I knew I was gonna pay for this tomorrow. At least I hadn’t been bothered by the skank again. I sat at the bar and didn’t notice the fight-club jerk right away. Opposite end of the bar, Carly was leaning in and talking to him. I trained my eyes on them and waited. Please, oh please let the motherfucker see me.
I was staring, so I knew I saw it, but I still couldn’t believe it when he stood up and Carly kissed him on the cheek. So engrossed in her, he didn’t see me as he walked out with a shit-eating grin on his face. What. The. Fuck?
Carly watched the shithead leave then turned and looked right at me. I was so furious, I wanted to follow him outside and beat the shit out of him. How often did that motherfucker come in here? How often did she kiss him? As if she could read my thoughts, Carly smiled condescendingly and shook her head. Oh hell no. Fuck her. I got up and walked out.