Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)

by Andrea Randall

  “OK, so, I’ll see you Wednesday. We have a few potential donors checking out the site on Thursday.”

  “Excellent. See you Wednesday, Ember.”

  Click.

  My phone stares back at me with an arched eyebrow. You agreed to be friends, what’s with the sinking feeling in your gut, missus? I slide it onto my dresser and shower in preparation for my chat with Monica later. That should be fun.

  * * *

  Bo

  “Rae?” I holler upstairs from the studio.

  “In the living room. Get your ass up here if you want to talk to me.”

  Grinning, I take the stairs two at a time. Rae’s matured a lot in the last couple of years, which also means she doesn’t take my shit like she used to. I turn the corner and find her washing the windows.

  “What’d you and November talk about last night in the bathroom?” Folding my arms, I lean against the doorframe. Rae pauses her circular motion against the glass, in thought, before resuming her task.

  “Nothing, really. Why?” She shrugs but doesn’t look over her shoulder to make eye contact with me.

  “Well, she just called me, and—”

  “Ember just called you?” Now she makes eye contact.

  I nod. “She apologized for acting strange last night but said you set her straight.”

  A knowing smile waltzes across Rae’s lips. “I just told her you truly were interested in being friends, and she seemed to understand. What? What’s with that look on your face?”

  “So she thinks I want to be friends with her?” The back of my neck screams with heat. I don’t want to be friends with her.

  “You do, don’t you? You can’t profess your love for her every day. If she loves you the way you love her, and the way you think she loves you, it’ll happen. Be friends with her and leave it alone, Bo.”

  “You know I’m in love with her, Rae. It drives me mad when I’m away from her, but it’s almost worse when I’m with her.”

  Rae’s eyes assess my words in the distance somewhere.

  “I know you do, Bo. It kills me that this is killing you. But, the fact is, she’s great for DROP, I want to be her friend, and—oh, come on!” Rae’s attention refocuses outside.

  “What?”

  “The girl’s persistent. She’s got that going for her.” Rae throws the roll of paper towels down and runs up the stairs, slamming her door shut. I walk to the window and see Ainsley coming up the front walk.Great.

  I ignore my irritation at Rae for promoting my friendship with November and hurry to the door, opening it before Ainsley has the chance to ring the bell.

  “Spencer! You startled me!” She smiles playfully and whips her hair over her shoulder.

  She called me Spencer when we were dating in high school, as a way to assert her position on the invisible top-rung of the high school social ladder. I’m not so sure it isn’t different now.

  “What’s up, Ainsley?” Her smile fades slowly as she must read the irritation on my face.

  “I tried calling you ...”

  “Sorry, my phone was on silent—I was in the studio.”

  “Well, I wanted to know if you wanted to have lunch.” She fidgets slightly on my front steps since I haven’t invited her in.

  “I don’t know, Ainsley ...” I drag my hand through my hair and leave it perched on the back of my neck.

  “Look, Spencer, we’re friends. Can’t friends have lunch?”

  Her intentions are muddled inside that innocent smile of hers. I can never tell what her angle is. Either way, I give in. I’m hungry.

  “Sure, let me just go get my phone downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

  As I walk outside, my phone vibrates with a text message.

  Rae: Big mistake.

  Shaking my head, I climb into Ainsley’s car, and head out for lunch.

  * * *

  Ember

  My nerves increase with each minute I wait for Monica.

  “Knock, knock!” She exaggerates as she bursts into my apartment.

  Instantly, my place feels alive with happiness and excitement. Monica wastes no time before showing me the lovely ring Josh used to ask “forever.” We make our way to the couch, where I have celebratory Brie and Riesling waiting.

  “It’s so perfect, so you.” I run my thumb across the emerald-cut solitaire. “I’m throwing you two an engagement party on Fourth of July weekend, a clam bake.”

  Monica’s smile is even bigger than before. “You’re amazing! A perfect Maid of Honor.”

  “What?” I scream.

  “Did you think I’d choose anyone else?” We scream in unison and hug, yet again.

  “So,” Monica continues after our second glass of wine, “what is this nonsense that you had to discuss with me in person?” She places her elbow on the back of my couch and rests her head on her hand.

  “It’s Adrian ...” I start with shaky cadence.

  “I knew it.” Her blue eyes grow wild, a million questions and assumptions swirling behind them.

  “I told you when there was something to tell, I’d tell. Last weekend, when you saw his car in front of my house, we kissed the night before—hard. It was so good, Monica, I have no words. I didn’t lie to you; we didn’t have sex that night.”

  “That night?”

  “No. That happened on Friday...in his apartment.”

  “Ember, A, what the hell? B, how could you not tell me?” She slaps my shoulder and crosses her arms.

  “I know. I know. He asked if I wanted to come by his place on Friday on my way home from Concord. It worked out well that you had to drive separately anyway. I really didn’t want to make a big deal if it turned out to be nothing.” I feel my cheeks reach a temperature I haven’t felt in a long time.

  “So ...”

  I can’t help the grin. “It was perfect, Monica. We had dinner, went dancing, then...you know.” I shrug. “I’m telling you because you’re my best friend and now that I think this is turning into something, I need you to know about it. I’m going to his place again on Friday.”

  “Are you going to start spending all of your time in Boston, or is Big Shot going to grace the Cape with his presence?” Her tone is playful, but I know she’s serious.

  “Relax, he’s coming here Monday or Tuesday for dinner. He’s grown up, Monica. We both have. When we were together on Friday, it was like the best parts of our past and the best parts of our present collided. We got to skip over the “get to know you” stuff and just enjoy each other.” I swirl the last sip of wine around in my glass.

  “Judging by the glow you’ve had since I got here, I’d say you aced the “enjoying each other” portion of the evening.” We break into laughter; mine is relieved.

  “Thanks for not being pissed, Mon. Listen, don’t tell anyone about me and Adrian. By anyone, I mean Rae or Bo.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m livid; I knew there was something going on that night we met Regan. I hardly talk to Bo at work, and I’d never say anything to Rae. Your secret is safe with me until you’re ready. How is he, by the way? Regan, I mean.” She can’t stay mad for long. Who’d be able to with a gorgeous ring like that on their hand?

  “He’s great. I think he likes Rae. He gave her his number.”

  “I’ll allow it, especially considering you seem to be tied up at the moment.” She arches her eyebrow, letting me know this won’t be the only in-depth discussion we’ll be having about Adrian.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hey Blue.” Adrian is waiting for me at my apartment when I get home from rehearsal at Finnegan’s. Rehearsal went great, but my Tuesday just got a hell of a lot better.

  “Hi.” I waste no more words. I wrap my arms around his neck and rise to meet his mouth. My lips are hot in an instant and my hips involuntarily press him back against my door. Adrian’s sex appeal is an addiction, and I’m a happy junkie.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” He grins against my lips as I reach past him to open the door.


  When we get inside, I kick off my shoes and flick on the lights. I toss my bag to the floor and turn around. “So, what do you want for dinner? I can cook or we can go out.”

  A wicked grin takes over his face. Without response, he lifts me off my feet and spins me around; our mouths become the epicenter of desire. As I stroke my tongue through his mouth, I’m barely cognizant of the fact that he’s walking toward my bedroom. Panic blazes through me, as memories of the last man in my bedroom flicker across the vision of my closed eyes. I pull away briefly to study Adrian’s face, and all anxiety subsides. This is the face of pure desire—uninhibited need.

  “Five years and now I can’t go three days without seeing you. Take your clothes off.” Adrian’s voice turns to a low growl as he nudges me onto my bed.

  My eyes widen to distract from my shocked grin as I surrender to his command. Who wouldn’t? Look at him. Adrian’s grey pants crumple at his feet as I toss my jeans and panties to the floor. I lean back onto my elbows and inch my way to the top of the bed as a naked and needy Adrian crawls after me.

  “Your bra’s still on.” His hands shake as they work their way up my legs ahead of the rest of him.

  “I thought you might want a challenge.” In a second, his hand is around my back and my bra is unclasped. “Right,” I tease, “I should have known.” My smile disappears as all moisture leaves my mouth and travels south.

  “What?” Adrian hums as he brushes my hair aside and has his way with my neck.

  “Condoms are over there.” I point to my bedside stand.

  “Still against the pill, huh?” He chuckles.

  “Some things don’t change, you know.”

  “I know,” he pulls a condom out of the drawer and rolls it on, “like how fucking hot you make me when you arch your eyebrow. It’s like you’re begging me to test you.”

  “Test me?” This is a rather ridiculous position to be having this conversation in.

  “Yeah,” he breathes onto my hard nipples before slowly circling his tongue around each one, “it’s like you’re waiting to see if I’ll screw it up again, or what my angle is.”

  I bite my lip and shift underneath him. “Maybe ...” I admit, pushing on his shoulders while he kisses down my stomach.

  “My angle is you, Blue. I just want you. My God, you’re gorgeous.”

  It’s hard for me to form a rebuttal while his tongue strokes me into oblivion.

  “Adrian ...” My knees shake as my thighs tighten around his head.

  Turning his head to the side, he kisses my thigh, releasing its vice around him. His eyes lock with mine. Rocking back slightly, he grabs my foot, and gently glides it up onto his shoulder as he leans over me.

  “Go slow,” I whisper as I anticipate the intensity of what’s about to happen.

  Thankfully, he indulges my request and leaves my leg resting on his shoulder while he places his hands on either side of my shoulders.

  “Damn, I love how much you want me.” He moans as he easily slides inside me.

  He pulls out slowly and reenters just as gently, before picking up speed. Gripping my sheets and arching my back in response, I anchor myself on the one foot still on the bed. My neighbors slip into the periphery of my discretion as I groan each time he drives into me, louder and faster. I release my sheets and press my hands into my headboard behind me.

  “I’m so close, Adrian...don’t stop ...” Ragged breaths stutter my plea.

  “Oh my God, November, you’re so fucking hot.”

  His admiration is my undoing and my legs go limp as I wail his name into the ocean breeze blowing through my room. Adrian collapses on top of me in a sweaty thud a few seconds later, and my leg rolls drunkenly off his shoulder.

  “November,” he pants with his chin on my chest, eyes locked on mine, “that was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had.”

  Before I can answer, my phone rings. I grab Adrian’s watch and laugh at the fact we’ve only been in my apartment for a half hour, though it’s felt like a day.

  “By the way, I love that you wear a watch,” I tease as I answer the phone.

  “What’s up, Mon?” I yawn.

  “Josh and the guys want to know if you can come back down here. They haven’t left yet and got some idea for a song.” She sounds bored.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few.” I click “End” and stretch out across my mattress.

  “Where you going?” Adrian asks.

  “The guys want me to go back down to Finnegan’s to try something out for our set this weekend. This is our last time to practice till then. Wanna come?” I slide back into my clothes and pull my sex-hair into an overly messy bun.

  “Sure. I love when you do that to your hair. What’s that?” Adrian kisses me once before getting dressed, nodding to the composition notebook I’ve picked up.

  “My music comp notebook for lyrics, notes, whatever.” I shrug.

  “Isn’t that the one Cavanaugh gave you?”

  “Yeah, it’s my only one. Wait, does that bother you?” I watch a crease form between his eyebrows.

  “No, but I figured it would bother you.” I don’t think I believe him as I watch his eyes search for anything else to focus on.

  “I haven’t had a chance to get to a good music store. I’ll get one Saturday morning in Boston before I head back here.” I throw the notebook in my messenger bag and head for the door, ignoring the screams from my heart to hold on. Hold on? To what?

  We can’t escape Monica’s almost-glare as we walk into Finnegan’s five minutes later.

  “What’s up, guys? Where’s C.J.?” I ask as I head directly for the stage.

  “We just wanted to try this fiddled-up version of “Foolish Games” by Jewel.” There’s no percussion in that song,” Josh says as he hands me a sheet with lyrics on it. I stop him.

  “I know the words, Josh.” I chuckle. “All girls know the words to this song.”

  “All right,” Regan chimes in, “here we go ...”

  He slides the bow across his fiddle slowly, creating a chilling intro that sends goosebumps down my spine. Josh’s fingers strum notes on the guitar where a piano is in the original version. Monica ignores Adrian as he sits next to her, and I ignore both of them as I perch on the stool—giving myself over to the song.

  I open my throat as wide as possible to keep up with Regan’s fiddling and Jewel’s intentions for the song. It feels good, until we near the end. Josh, Regan, and I seem to intuitively slow down in time over these words and I close my eyes as tight as they’ll go.

  I sing the last three words of the second verse extra slow, and take a deep breath at the end; the guys do too. The silence feels longer in my head, I’m sure. I force my throat to reopen, and I finish the song with my eyes still closed.

  “Jesus Christ, Ember, that was awesome.” Josh stares at me slack-jawed as Regan nods.

  “Yeah, November, you were meant to sing with a fiddle.” Regan squeezes my shoulder and puts his fiddle in the case.

  I can’t bring myself to look up. I can’t look at Monica. I’m sure she knows what I was thinking—what I was feeling.

  “Ember, I gotta take this call outside, K?” Adrian holds up his phone and I nod, returning my gaze to the floor.

  “You don’t sing for him.” Regan blurts out as Adrian leaves the bar.

  “What? Who?” I ask, startled back to the present.

  He lifts his chin to the door. “Your boyfriend.”

  “Adrian’s not my boyfriend.” I slide off the stool and square off to Regan.

  “Whatever. Either way, you don’t sing for him. If you did, your eyes wouldn’t have been closed the entire time.” He walks over to me and taps my forehead with his index finger. “Who you singing for, Beautiful?”

  “Me.” I shrug as I feel heat betray my face.

  “Ha! OK. Whatever you say. Just don’t stop singing for “you” then, OK? That was perfection.” He walks his suddenly cocky self over to the bar and pours himself a
beer.

  I look to Josh. It’s my turn to look shocked. “Did you hear that?” I ask incredulously.

  Josh shrugs and puts his guitar in its case, seeming to have gone mute. I turn to Monica who holds up her hands in defense.

  “I’m not getting into this with you, Harris. I heard what he said, and I agree with him.” She tilts her head to the side, daring me to challenge her. Challenge accepted.

  “You agree with him? About what, exactly?” I hop off the stage.

  “The look on your face, that was all Bo. You forget, I’ve seen you with him more than anyone here, but Regan picked up on it after one song.” Her face doesn’t even get red. She’s confident and unwavering.

  “So you think I’m still singing for someone who broke my heart?” My volume increases, causing the guys to turn toward us.

  “Oh for the love of God, Ember, would you listen to yourself? Bo was in a mess of shit, and all you can think about is how it made you feel.” Here it is, the first time Monica and I are talking about what happened in Concord.

  “Jesus, Mon, go ahead—tell me how you really feel.” I put my hands on my hips, waiting for her response as Adrian reenters the bar.

  “You want to know how I really feel? I’ll tell you. I think you made a huge mistake when you walked out on him in Concord, and you’re making a bigger mistake now.” She points at Adrian without making eye contact with him.

  My chest heaves under my anger. Adrian’s eyes volley between us in silence. I stare through Monica as I address her and our friends.

  “I’m done here. Let’s go, Adrian.”

  Regan and Josh stand bug-eyed and silent as I brush past Monica and lead Adrian out of the bar.

  “What was that all about?” Adrian asks as we get to my car.

  “Monica’s a bitch, that’s what that is about,” I huff.

  “Is it because of me? Did you tell her?”

  Before I can answer, Regan hollers after me.

  “November, wait!” I roll my eyes as Adrian gets in the car.

  “What’s up, Regan?”

  “I’m sorry if I pissed you off back there, I—” I cut him off to spare him the torture creeping across his face.