One More Song

by Seabrook, C. M.

He smiles down at me, his eyes warm, inviting.

  “I have a son, Liam,” he says, his smile broadening when he mentions him.

  “Really? Millie didn’t mention that.”

  “He’s two. Lives with his mom. I hate that I only get to see him on the weekends. But I know right now it’s what’s best for him.” Granger keeps talking, and the more he does, the more I like him. And I get why Millie wanted to set us up. We actually have a lot in common.

  And I wonder for a moment if the spark really matters. I’ve read that some of the best relationships start out as just friends. Maybe things could blossom between us. And maybe I’m just kidding myself.

  When Granger turns and starts talking with Millie’s husband Keith, Millie pulls me close and whispers, “So? What do you think?”

  “He’s really nice.”

  She groans. “He’s more than nice, Em, he’s made for you.”

  “Maybe,” I say, not wanting to deflate her hope so soon.

  I glance over my shoulder and Granger smiles, but there are no butterflies, no knee-weakening moments. But it’s still nice to be out, even if my best friend’s idea of fun is dragging me to a dive bar to sing karaoke. What’s the worst thing that can happen?

  “You know what you need,” Millie says.

  “Pleeease don’t say tequila shots.”

  She laughs. “You know me too well.” Her arm slings over my shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have fun tonight if we have to drink an entire bottle of Patron to make sure of it.”

  I groan. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

  She laughs, and her enthusiasm is infectious. That is until I see the black Cadillac, one that looks suspiciously close to my ex-husband’s, parked in front of the bar with the blinking Karaoke sign in the window.

  This would totally be somewhere that Mitch would hang out, trying to re-live his glory days on stage.

  I say a silent prayer as Granger opens the door for us, Please, please, please don’t be here.

  When I scan the mostly empty bar, I let out a sigh of relief when there’s no sign of him. Thank God. The last thing I need is my ex-husband judging me.

  I smile, realizing it was a dumb thing to be scared about anyway. He’s at his place with our little girl. No need to worry about running into my past tonight.

  But then my eye catches on a man at a back table. My body immediately flushes, and my skin pricks.

  Ash.

  Turns out it’s not my past I need to worry about. Because right now, my present is staring right at me.

  Those butterflies that I’d been hoping for earlier start fluttering like crazy.

  “You coming or what?” Millie asks, reaching for my hand. My eyes are locked with Ash’s though. He sees me and I see him and the loud, dark bar spins. I follow Millie, but my heart seems to rush from my body and leap into his lap.

  I don’t want this. A man with a rough voice and broad shoulders and eyes that don’t just see. They sear.

  And it hurts, to be seen.

  I blink, force my feet toward the bar. Refusing to look back. The shots are poured, and I take one, then another and Millie claps and the alcohol burns as it goes down. The lime is sharp, and the salt is strong, and I ask for another and Millie laughs saying I need to sing before I get a third and I disagree, but she is my friend for a reason. She knows how to make me do things I wouldn’t do otherwise.

  “Come on,” she begs, dragging me toward the DJ. “Are you worried about embarrassing yourself in front of Granger?”

  I frown. Almost asking who Granger is because ever since I stepped into this bar, I only see one man. The one I shouldn’t be thinking about. The man who has tormented my sleep for three nights straight. I hear him late, well past the time everyone else is asleep, in the kitchen, drinking his warm milk which is so damn tender it nearly makes me melt.

  But I won’t. Melt, I mean.

  I’ve done that before, let the sweet things a man does erase all the bad things I know he is capable of.

  I won’t be played a fool for a second time. But God, the temptation is hard to resist.

  “What song are we singing?” I ask, knowing I can’t back down. If I do, if I let my fear get the best of me, then it will mean this man I don’t even know will have won. What he is winning I don’t quite know, but it would feel like I am giving up a piece of myself.

  And I won’t do that. Never again.

  Granger and Keith have bottles of beer and they are in the front of the crowd as Millie and I step on stage. I won’t look past them toward the back of the room where Ash sits in a ball cap with Saint beside him. If I do, I will lose my resolve.

  The music starts and I recognize Millie’s pick immediately. “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” I smile, grateful that I at least know the words, and I feel the tequila course through my bloodstream as the lyrics pull up on the screen in front of us.

  I sing, dancing with Millie and feeling the alcohol in my system. The crowd sings along and I don’t know how I ended up at the Boneyard tonight, but here I am. Letting it all out.

  Needing this.

  When the song ends we take exaggerated bows and Keith and Granger laugh, telling us we were great.

  “Did I earn another shot?” I ask and Millie laughs as the four of us head back to the bar.

  The shot feels so good I take a fourth and it’s then I start seeing double. I look to the back of the bar and Ash is still there. He hasn’t moved since I arrived. He could at least come over and say hello. Congratulate me on my performance. It’s a silly thought. I’m drunk. And Ash doesn’t owe me a thing.

  He’s nothing to me other than a paycheck. That’s all.

  If I think it enough times maybe I’ll believe it.

  I try not to look back at him, but I can’t help notice the tension between Ash and the other guys. They’re arguing about something. Finally, it’s Saint who gets up and starts toward me.

  “So karaoke, huh?” he says, giving me a dimpled grin.

  “So what do you think, am I good enough to join your band?”

  He chuckles. “Sweetheart, we’ll let you in the band if you promise to keep baking those apple pies of yours. I swear I’ve already gained ten pounds since we moved in.”

  I laugh. “Deal.”

  That’s when I notice the gaping expressions on Millie, Keith, and Granger’s faces.

  “What?” I ask.

  “This is one of the guys living with you?” Millie asks, her voice extra loud even though she’s trying to whisper. Her jaw is dropped. “Do you have any idea who he is?”

  “Sorry. I’m being rude.” I make a quick introduction to everyone, but there’s still a stunned silence filling the space between us, and I have no idea why. But I’m a little too tipsy to worry about it.

  I glance over my shoulder looking for Ash as someone starts belting out Ace of Base’s “All That She Wants,” but he’s no longer in the booth. But Synn and Dusky are both still in the booth, Dusky looking worried and Synn scowling.

  “Landon St. James is living with you?” Granger asks, leaning close, his brows raised and looking at Saint like he’s some kind of national hero.

  I give a small frown at Saint, who gives me a dimpled smile like he’s used to all the attention. Maybe I should have googled these guys.

  “Is it hot in here?” I say a little too loud. The room spins, and my skin feels tingly. I need to move, and I feel myself pulling away from the conversation, moving to the dance floor.

  As I walk away, I hear Millie say something about how if Keith wasn’t here, she’d have Saint sign her tits.

  They’re all cracking up and happy, and I hear Granger call me back, but I don’t listen.

  I need to dance the alcohol from my system. Thankfully, Granger doesn’t come after me as I snake my way onto the crowded dance floor, and I’m glad. He’s too captivated by Saint. Good. I don’t want his hands on my skin. I want to get lost. Memories of my past flash before my eyes and I blink them
away. Mitch holding my wrists so hard they bruise. Mitch telling me I was a shitty lover, a worse wife. Lies and fights and me messing it all up, telling myself it was all my fault. It never was.

  But the lies we tell ourselves...they run deep.

  The music is loud, and whoever is singing now really sucks but I don’t hear the words I only hear the beat. The thump, thump, thump of the bass and I let it wash over me. I close my eyes and let myself float away.

  When a man’s hands run over my bare arms, I flinch. Then I feel the heat of his skin and I know who it is before I’m even spun around and looking at him face-to-face.

  Ash snakes his arms around my waist, and I draw in a sharp breath.

  I should push him away, but I don’t. Can’t. I lean in. Closer. Feel his hard cock against my belly, and a whimper forms in my throat.

  I’m drunk, I know I am, but I don’t care. I want him to hold me, to get lost in this crowd, in each other...and it makes no sense.

  I barely know the man. We’ve only talked a handful of times. But it doesn’t change the fact that every time he walks into a room, my body betrays me, makes me want things I know will only leave me with another broken heart.

  But what if I can keep my heart out of it? Women do it all the time. Booty calls, hookups, friends with benefits.

  Trouble.

  Trouble.

  Trouble.

  My heart pounds.

  But I don’t want to listen. Not tonight. Tonight I want to give in to temptation.

  I close my eyes as Ash’s hot breath runs against my ear. And when I do, I see him bowing to Cady. Pen in hand, bent over a journal. Eyes that blaze with regret, same as mine.

  I know him.

  “That was quite a performance up there,” he says, his voice deep, intoxicating, pulling me deeper under his spell.

  I exhale, unable to speak. What can I say?

  Fuck me.

  It’s what I want.

  It’s been so long since my needs mattered to anyone. I’d be a fool to think they mattered to this man who holds me now.

  He is so wrong for me. But maybe in this precise moment, he is exactly right.

  “I want you so bad, Ember,” he whispers.

  I moan, knowing I’m in deep, deep trouble.

  Millie said I deserved some fun. But is this fun? It doesn’t feel like it. It feels intense. Raw. Real. Like a very bad idea.

  The song ends, but Ash doesn’t let me go. Those stormy gray eyes sear through me, inviting, promising, demanding, and all I hear is the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

  “Ember?” A voice breaks through the moment. Granger’s hand is on my shoulder. “You okay?”

  I lick my lips. Am I okay? The question is so insane I literally laugh. I step away from Ash. Am I okay?

  No. Not even close.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I lie.

  The men look at each other and I can see them sizing the other up. But there’s no comparison. Ash’s presence takes up the whole room. Granger may have a few extra pounds on him, but Ash is larger than life.

  “You’re Asher Stone,” Granger finally says, both defeat and awe in his voice.

  How does Granger know that? My head is still spinning with the mixture of alcohol and Ash being so damn close. But I know I’m missing something. Something important.

  Ash rests a hand on my lower back, possessively, and it seems like the whole bar has gone silent, watching us.

  “And you are?” Ash asks

  “This is Granger,” I say. “My...date.” The word is extra tight. And both men must hear the edge in my voice because I see Ash’s nostrils flare, sense the way Granger stiffens.

  I back away, embarrassed for all of us. Mostly Granger. He’s a good man who deserves a nice girl and the truth is I’ve never been good. Not really.

  The guys living with me probably think I am. Just a sweet girl who bakes cookies and is planting a garden and puts meals on the table at the proper time. But I haven’t always been that girl. And the longer I stand in Ash’s presence, the more I remember the kind of person I was before Mitch.

  Wild.

  Foolish.

  I took risks and made mistakes.

  And I paid dearly for each one.

  I back away, saying I need to use the restroom, giving them both a strained smile. A fake pasted-on smile that Granger seems to believe and he says he’ll be waiting for me when I get back. I nod. Ash nods too as if we’re in on the same joke, but I know the punch line and I don’t want to hear it. I’ve been the brunt of it far too many times.

  My eyes scan the room as I head toward the back of the bar. Millie and Keith are still occupied with Saint, and I look for an exit. I need air. Now.

  I take in a deep breath when I push the backdoor open, the cool night air of early April hitting my face. I press my back against the metal wall, looking out past the parking lot. A graveyard lies before me. The Boneyard got its name because it was built right next to a cemetery and I wonder how many secrets are buried here?

  That’s one thing I know about - secrets.

  I’ve become an expert at keeping them.

  My own and others.

  The back door swings open, and even before I see who comes out, I know it’s Ash who followed me.

  “You okay?” he asks, moving toward me. He runs a hand over my cheek, and I moan. My stomach twists.

  I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me.

  Damn him for making me feel things I shouldn’t. I try to keep my walls intact, but they come crashing down around him.

  “I’m better now,” I whisper, his mouth so close to mine. I breathe him in. Sandalwood and leather and fresh ink from a pen. He smells like paper, like poetry. He’s a musician, sure, but I want to believe he is so much more. “Kiss me.”

  He does. The kiss isn’t hard, like I expect. His lips are soft, and I close my eyes, sinking into the moment, wanting it to go as far as he will take me. All the way.

  The kiss intensifies, the heat between us so damn hot I can’t breathe. I let out a soft purr, needing relief. The sky is dark, and no one is back here, it’s just Ash and me and the swollen moon, casting just enough light over us for me to see his eyes.

  My head is spinning, the mix of alcohol and his touch sparking something inside of me that I’d forgotten how to feel. My walls are down, my inhibitions gone, and it’s just him and me.

  I moan as his kiss deepens, feeling his hard body pressed against mine. My back is against the brick wall, and my dress hitches up my thigh as I lift one leg, arching my back, needing the friction of his own leg on my pussy.

  It aches. Deliciously so.

  “Ash,” I whimper, needing the relief only he can provide.

  He looks at me, those stormy eyes intense and matching the lust I feel. I don’t want to think about how easy it would be to fall into his gaze, to lose myself completely in him. I just need this. Now.

  “Please.”

  He groans, his hands running down my body, over my hip, down my thigh, his fingers finding the hem of my dress and hitching it up higher. “What do you want, Ember?” he asks, voice gravelly.

  Normally I’d be too shy to say it. But the need is too intense. “Make me come.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters, one finger sliding under my thong, slipping inside me. Then another one. His thumb circles my clit expertly, until I’m crying out with the rise of pleasure. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

  I cry out louder as a surge of sensations explodes within me. Electric heat sizzles through my clit, blazing through every cell in my body. It’s too much, and not enough at the same time.

  My body shudders, jerks, until I’m falling.

  Ash holds me. Captures me. And his mouth silences my whimpers as I slowly come down from the high. And when I do, the world is spinning.

  “You okay?” he asks, pulling back slightly, cupping my jaw. His face is blurry, but I can see the concern in his eyes.

  “No.” I shake my head, my stoma
ch rolling, and I barely have time to push away from him before I’m doubled over, spilling the contents of my stomach.

  Chapter Eight

  Ash

  I don’t know what Ember’s playing at, and the thing is, I don’t think she knows either. She’s all torn up, that much is for certain. I hold her hair as she finishes.

  Groaning, she lifts her eyes to mine. “I’m so sorry.”

  I give her a wry smile. “Let me get you some water. Sit down, I’ll be right back.”

  “Tell Millie you’re taking me home.”

  “You don’t want Granger to—”

  She cuts me off. “No. I don’t want Granger.”

  Hope blossoms in my chest and I feel like I’m fifteen fucking years old. I need to get a grip. “You’ll be okay out here?”

  She nods, sliding to the gravel. Her dress hitched so high up her thigh it should be illegal. “Just come back quick.”

  I take one last look at her before heading back inside the bar. A deep need to take care of Ember surges inside of me and I can’t remember the last time I put someone else’s needs before my own. Too damn long.

  Her friends are at the bar, but I scan the room for mine first. “Hey,” I say, a hand on Synn’s shoulder. “I’m gonna take Ember home. She isn’t feeling so hot.”

  “Thought she was on a date?” Synn says, jaw clenched. He knows me so damn well.

  “Yeah, the date’s over. I’m gonna get her home in one piece.”

  Synn snorts, eyes dark. “You never change, do you?”

  “Let’s not do this, not here, in public,” Saint says, coming between us. He’s always the mediator of the group and usually it annoys the fuck out of me. But right now, it’s a relief. I don’t want to fight - I want to get back to Ember.

  “Let’s talk tomorrow,” I say, stepping back. “Trust me on this, okay?”

  Synn shakes his head, doubting me, and I know why. He has no reason to trust me after I fucked everything up, getting us here. Almost destroying the career we worked so damn hard to build.

  I’ve always been good at breaking things.

  Turning from them, I look for Ember’s friends. They are still at the bar laughing, and I give them a sharp nod. “Looks like I’m gonna take Ember home tonight. No ill will here, she just isn’t feeling well.”