Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)

by Andrea Randall

  “I think I still love him,” I admit for the first time in weeks. “The worst decision I could have made to get over him was to work on this project.” I thump the back of my head against the tear-stained window.

  “Why do you want to get over him? If this is about work, have Carrie take you off the fucking project. Zoe is more than capable of taking over for you.”

  “It’s Adrian, Monica ...”

  “Oh, fuck Adrian.” Monica rolls her eyes and presses her head against the steering wheel.

  “I care about him, Monica—he’s good to me.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Just go talk to Bo and clear up what happened tonight. You still have to work together. If there’s any hope for you two, it starts with friendship. Deal with Adrian later. Will you take my advice, for once?” She gingerly slaps me upside the head.

  “He didn’t have to kiss me.” I roll my eyes as my cheeks fill with fire.

  “I think he did.” Monica’s long lashes sweep her cheeks as she takes a careful breath.

  “How the hell am I supposed to clear anything up from tonight? I told him we couldn’t be friends.”

  Monica shrugs and sweeps her hands toward the door, motioning for me to go. I shake my head.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” I resign as I leave her car.

  * * *

  A twenty-minute self pep talk later, I finally pull out of the parking lot and head for Bo’s house.

  You just need to say you’re sorry for bailing and that you still want to be friends...

  I almost use the closed gate as an excuse to abort the mission, but I vividly remember the code he gave me. Shaky fingers tap out the four numbers, and the gate slowly swings open. I climb back in my car and head down the driveway, white-knuckled and dizzy.

  Relief floods over me when I spot Rae’s car next to one I don’t recognize, maybe Regan’s, parked in the driveway. Their presence will make this easier. As I step out of the car, Regan walks onto the front porch. I hear yelling from inside the house. My feet catch up to my pulse, and I meet him on the porch.

  “What’s going on?” I ask as I head for the door.

  “No,” Regan huffs as he grips my upper arm and pulls me backward.

  “What the hell, Regan?” I watch his face fall as he shakes his head.

  Our heads turn to the voices getting closer to the front door.

  “Get the hell out of my house, you tramp!” Rae’s voice is full of rage as the acid in my stomach churns wildly. The yelling continues, but I can no longer focus on the words.

  “Ainsley,” I whisper, scanning the driveway. The car I didn’t recognize, I realize several minutes too late, is hers—I’ve only seen it once before. Regan releases my arm, turning me toward him. His face is full of pity.

  “We came back here after going to Les’s Diner. Rae wanted to show me the place. As soon as she saw that car, she lost it. I chased in after her, and—”

  “I’m good, Regan,” I put my hands up, “I can put the rest together. I’m getting the hell out of here.” As soon as my foot hits the top stair, the front door swings open, spilling three angry people onto the porch. If curling into the fetal position were socially acceptable, I’d be there in a heartbeat.

  “He didn’t invite you here,” Rae seethes.

  “He didn’t ask me to leave, either, did you, Spencer?” I can hear Ainsley’s snide smile tear through the back of my head.

  “Stop calling him that!” Rae screams.

  “Will both of you calm down? It’s after midni -” Bo stops mid-sentence and I turn around to find his eyes wide in my direction.

  My face feels like it takes on the color his loses in an instant. Rae’s hand flies to cover her open mouth as Regan grabs her shoulders. Swallow. Blink. Ainsley’s momentary shock is replaced by a wicked grin that turns her ice blue eyes black. Don’t bait her. Don’t bait her. Smile. Shrug. Do something

  “I had a nice time tonight, Spencer.” Ainsley stretches up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss squarely on Bo’s lips. His eyes don’t leave mine before I look to the ground in nausea.

  Breathe. You don’t know what happened. Well, you know a little what happened.

  As she brushes past me, Ainsley’s bubblegum-like body spray makes my mouth water—the way it does right before one throws up. She snickers as she gets in her car; the sound thumps my eardrums. I watch her taillights until they disappear from sight before I turn around again. My jaw ripples beneath my skin, and I pray that my teeth won’t break as I force my anger away with a deep inhale through flared nostrils.

  Bo steps toward me. “November ...”

  Yep, that’s me.

  “Jesus, November, what are you doing here?” Rae whispers. Apparently, we’re all just catching up that I’ve been standing on the porch for several minutes.

  My fingernails dig into my palms as I force myself to relax my jaw. I clear my throat before I speak.

  “I, uh, just wanted to tell Bo “thank you” for showing me the studio tonight—it’s lovely.” Swallow. “So...thank you.” I force a smile. “Also, I’m sorry about what I said about not being friends. Clearly that’s all we’ll be.” I turn and dash to my car.

  “Ember, wait!” Bo runs after me, beating me to my car and blocking my door with his body.

  My arms cross in front of me, protecting me without having to ask my brain for permission.

  “Are you about to tell me that wasn’t what it looked like?” I bite the inside of my cheek until it hurts.

  “No...I mean—” He kicks my tire with his heel before I cut him off.

  “Ainsley? You warned me about her, Rae warned me about her, and all you did tonight was prove that you’re no better. You kiss me, and come back here with her?”

  “You kissed her?” Rae runs down the stairs toward us.

  “It’s none of your business, Rae!” Bo hollers through gritted teeth.

  Rae looks like she’s about to say something, but tears trickling down her pale cheek stop her. Regan reaches an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in, kissing the top of her head as she stares at us in defeat.

  “I meant that kiss, November.You were the one who walked away.” Bo grabs my shoulders, and I’m too tired to fight him.

  “You called me self-righteous. Then, apparently, came here to fuck your ex-girlfriend.” His head turns to the side and he winces against my accusation.

  “It’s you, November. You’re the one I’m in love with. I’m insane over not having you.” He’s not making sense, and it becomes clearer that he’s been drinking since he got home.

  Suddenly, Bo’s hands slide from my shoulders to my cheeks and he forces his mouth against mine. His tongue slides sloppily against my lips before I pull away and push him aside, opening my car door.

  Three sets of eyes watch as I slide into my car and look at Bo.

  “You taste like whiskey...and bubblegum.” I slam the door, start the engine, and lock the door when Bo tries to enter the passenger side.

  “God dammit, Ember, listen to me for once!” He screams as he pounds his fist into my car window.

  Fearing for the glass, I leave the engine running but unlock the door. Seeming relieved, Bo slides inside. Before turning to face him, I lock eyes with Regan and Rae, giving them a slight nod to excuse them from the scene.

  “What?” I ask, as I chew on my bottom lip.

  “When you left, I came back here and went into my studio.” Bo’s words are quick and slightly slurred. The smell of liquor permeates my car.

  “I don’t want to know anything else, Bo. I don’t. Please stop.” I put up my hand to prove my point.

  Bo fists his hair. “November, I’m not leaving this car until you hear me out.”

  “Well,” I shrug, “it’s going to be a long walk back from Boston for you.”

  Shit.

  Bo’s eyebrows knit together. “Boston?” Before he annunciates then, realization sears his eyes. The rise and fall of his chest increases as he puts it together. “How
long has it been going on?”

  “What are you talking about?” I feign ignorance.

  “Don’t screw with me!” He punches my dash, causing me to jump. “How long have you been fucking Turner?” His teeth are clenched so tightly, I’m surprised words escape at all.

  “Get out of my car. So help me God, Bo, get out of my car right now before I lay on this horn and have Regan force you out.” I beg my chin to stop quivering as I force my eyes into his.

  With a petulant shrug, Bo gets out. Hanging onto my doorframe, he ducks his head into my car.

  “You’re right. We can’t be friends,” he says before he slams the door.

  I don’t wait for him to step away from the car before I put it in reverse and tear out of his driveway like a bat out of hell.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Sorry to wake you.”

  “It’s OK, Blue, you sounded upset.” Adrian holds his door open well past midnight. I texted him after I left “Casa Cavanaugh” and flew here in record time.

  I drop my backpack on the island and slump onto the couch. My body shifts to the left when he sits next to me.

  “What happened?” Adrian’s arm envelopes my shoulders and he kisses the top of my head.

  I’ll never listen to Coldplay again ...

  “I can’t be friends with him, Adrian.” I rock my forehead side to side in my folded hands.

  “Did he do something to you?” His body stiffens as he leans back.

  So many things ...

  I look up, forcing a smile before I shake my head. My face feels flush as I move to straddle his lap. Fighting the tears from the roller coaster bitch-of-a-night I’ve had, I take off my shirt and cast it to the floor. Adrian’s eyes widen in praise as he cups my breasts in his hands. I lean forward, tracing my tongue up the side of his ear, eliciting a groan from his throat.

  “God, I’ve missed you this week. Come with me, I want you in my bed.”

  I nod and take his hand, silently following the lion into his den.

  Foreplay has no purpose here—need wants what it wants. Adrian’s expert moves take me away from everything that’s happened over the last few weeks. Thankful for the pitch-black room, I blink a few tears out of the corners of my eyes.

  “Harder, Adrian,” I whisper into his ear.

  Make me forget ...

  * * *

  A gentle nudging of my shoulders pulls me from a deep, sex-induced sleep. I peel my eyes open and groan at the sunset peeking through the bedroom curtains.

  “Hey, babe, your phone’s ringing—it’s Monica.” Adrian places the phone in my hand and I blindly answer.

  “Hello?” I yawn.

  “Hello? Hello? Where the hell are you? Hello...God ...” she scoffs into the phone.

  I pull the phone away from my ear to see it’s just after eight, and Monica’s just putting together that I didn’t go back to the hotel last night.

  “I’m in Boston—” I don’t have time to finish before she launches in on her tirade.

  “Boston? Ember what the christ are you doing?”

  “What am I doing? I’m lying in Adrian’s bed, pushing the image of Ainsley kissing Bo on his front porch out of my head—that’s what I’m doing.” I hiss into the phone so Adrian can’t hear from the kitchen. I replay the scene, detail by gory detail, for Monica.

  “So you’re with Adrian for the specific purpose of getting over Bo?” She asks unapologetically.

  “No, I’m not. But last night, it became clear that Bo and I are too toxic to even be friends, let alone anything else. So why not actually be happy with someone who lets me be me?” I pace into the kitchen wearing only my panties and one of Adrian’s undershirts.

  “Ha! Lets you be you? OK, we’ll see how long that lasts. You forget—I was around last time Adrian was, Ember. You were the furthest thing from being you.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I stop and Adrian lifts his head from his iPad with an arched brow.

  “I mean you turned into a giant snob when you dated him in college, and I really don’t want to put up with that again.” Her tone is blunt and unforgiving.

  This revelation is news to me. Further, it’s irritating that she’d cast how we may have acted several years ago onto the people we are today. I spew a frustrated goodbye into the phone and begin pouring myself a cup of coffee.

  “Not a pleasant call, I take it?” Adrian spoons cereal into his mouth and chews while waiting for my answer.

  “Monica’s had a rod up her ass for weeks now. She isn’t keen on the idea of us being together.” I perch on the stool across from Adrian and roll my eyes as I sip my coffee. Adrian swallows his cereal as a Cheshire grin swallows him.

  “Together, huh?” He bites his bottom lip in the way that drives me wild.

  “Looks that way, doesn’t it?” I shrug and return the grin.

  Adrian’s gaze breaks from mine and his grin disappears. My stomach plummets.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with what’s been going on with Cavanaugh, does it?” Gut punch.

  “Adrian...” I slide off the stool and pace toward him, while his eyes remain fixed on the floor. I slide hips between his knees and force him to look at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “If we’re going to do this, Ember, it’s going to be the real deal. I want you—all of you. I screwed it up once before, and I’m not going to do it again. If you need more time—” He shakes his head slightly as he tucks my hair behind my ears.

  In the refreshing light of a new day, last night seems so far away and even more ridiculous. Adrian doesn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated him last night. I used him. He at least suspects that, which is why he’s hesitant to move forward. Who can blame him? That was a shitty thing to do. Bo can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants, but I’ll be damned if that will affect my actions. Studying Adrian’s reserved expression, I realize I don’t want to lose him. I care for him and everything we can have together. And, no matter what has happened or will happen between us, he would never pull what Bo pulled last night. Not in a million years.

  Or a thousand lifetimes.

  “Hey,” I grab his wrists and bring his knuckles to my lips, “I don’t need more time for anything. Things with Bo are going to be complicated until we’re finished working on the collaboration. Then I can go back to my permanent office on the Cape and only deal with him a few times a year.” In theory, seeing Bo a few times a year sounds like too much. The words, however, are somewhat difficult to say. “That’s another thing,” I continue, “you live here. I live on the Cape ...”

  “Listen, you keep coming here on Fridays after you leave Concord—stay the full weekend when you don’t sing at Finnegan’s—and I’ll stay at your place Sundays and Mondays. Sound good?”

  The apartment brightens with the return of our smiles.

  “You’ve given this some thought,” I tease.

  “You’ve been my only thought for quite some time, Ms. Harris.” He seals his declaration with a kiss.

  “I need to go for a run. Do you have a good route around here?” I pick up my backpack, which only holds my running gear.

  “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

  “All right, Turner,” I tease, “but you’ll probably have to slow down a bit.”

  “Ha. With you? You’re probably right ...”

  I playfully punch his shoulder before we dress and head out for a run.

  * * *

  “That was a great route, Adrian!” I feel exhilarated and refreshed for the first time in days.

  “Yeah,” he pants, “told you I’d have to keep up with you.” He playfully smacks my butt as the elevator doors close.

  “Good to see some things never change,” I quip before kissing his cheek.

  When I’m with Adrian, in the moment, thoughts of Bo are light years away. It’s when I’m alone or too deep inside my head, that thoughts of what could have been seep in. Just stay in the moment, and no one will
get hurt.

  When we reach Adrian’s door, I hear someone banging around in the kitchen and stop short.

  “Is that housekeeping?” I ask.

  “Nah, that’s probably just Pace.” Adrian unlocks his door with annoyance.

  “Your brother’s here? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Adrian’s older brother Pace was one of my favorite people at Princeton. He graduated the year Adrian and I got together, and I only saw him a few times after that. Adrian swings his door open, and I let out a childish squeal.

  “Pace!”

  Startled, he drops the spatula in his hand and whips around.

  “November? What the hell?” He jogs toward me and pulls me into a hug, spinning me around twice for good measure before setting me down.

  While it’s clear Pace and Adrian are brothers, Pace is nearly six-foot-six, towering six inches over his younger brother. Built like a brick wall, and athletic to boot, he could have played nearly any sport at any college of his choosing. His family’s tradition of Princeton, however, overruled any athletic aspirations he may have had.

  “All right, you two,” Adrian teases.

  “Where the fuck have you been hiding her, Adrian?” Pace squeezes my shoulders, forcing all the air from my lungs.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Pace.” I wriggle out of his hold and pour a glass of water. “I think the real question is what are you doing here?”

  “I live here, smartass. Well, not here in this apartment,” he continues when he sees my confused look, “but in this building. I’m one floor up.”

  “Of course you are.” I roll my eyes at the brotherly competition that hasn’t died down. “Guess medical school served you well?”

  Adrian covers his mouth in laughter, and Pace punches him in the shoulder.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Pace dropped out of medical school two years in,” Adrian says.

  My eyes bulge out of my head. “You’re kidding! Did your parents have joint coronaries?”

  The brothers laugh and shake their heads. Pace tells me that his parents were understanding of his decision, being that he did try medical school for two years and promised to pay them back for their investment.