Kiss the Stars

by Jackson, A. L.

  All eyes on her.

  Couldn’t turn away.

  But he didn’t get it.

  Didn’t get that looking any closer would be the destruction of me. Worst was it would most assuredly be the destruction of her.

  I cleared my throat and followed him over to the outdoor kitchen fridge that was stocked with drinks. I grabbed a beer, popped the cap, and drained half of it in one gulp.

  Hoping it might calm the nerves racing through my body.

  Mia made her children’s plates, balancing two of them while Tamar tried to get Greyson into a high chair at one of the patio tables. He cried and kicked his legs and shouted, “I big, I big. No, Auntie, no!”

  The rest of the kids barreled back up the steps, herded by Austin and Edie.

  Tamar finally wrangled Greyson into his seat and strapped him in. “There.”

  I roughed a hand over my face.

  Feeling like I was sinking.

  Drowning.

  Washed away in a tsunami without even knowing it’d hit.

  Didn’t belong here.

  Not for a second.

  But Mia was trying to gather napkins and utensils for her kids while balancing their plates, and I was moving that way without thought, offering to take the plates from her as she attempted to tuck the silverware under her arm without dumping their food out onto the floor.

  “Let me help you.” My voice was a grumble. Some kind of fucked up plea.

  Those eyes really met mine for the first time. Hurt and begging for more.

  She hesitated.

  “Please,” I said.

  She breathed out a tiny, pained sound, one that trickled across my flesh and hit me like a song.

  A hypnotic melody that implored to be written.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as she handed over the plates.

  “No problem.”

  No problem at all.

  It was just a goddamned catastrophe.

  I followed her over to the table were the kids had set up camp. Each of them climbed onto the cushioned chairs around the large table. Plates were set in front of the younger children, each of them exclaiming their thanks.

  All except for Greyson who smashed a handful of his macaroni and cheese in my face the second I set it down on his high-chair tray.

  Bullseye.

  Apparently, I actually was the kid’s target.

  He shrieked with laughter and kicked his feet, his nose all scrunched up with his amusement. “Got you, Waif. I got you!”

  I edged back, trying to wipe the mess from my cheek.

  “Oh,” Mia breathed when she whirled around and saw what her kid had done, her fist flying to her mouth before a smile was splitting behind it. “Oh, God.”

  I cocked my head, raking a gob of it off. “You think that’s funny, huh?”

  “I do,” Brendon popped off, throwing his hand in the air like we were asking for his opinion.

  Smart ass.

  I tossed him a scathing glare, the little punk.

  Just like his dad. Calling bullshit.

  Mia passed me a napkin, words falling from around her barely contained laughter, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he did it again.”

  I wiped the stickiness away, fighting a chuckle building in my chest. “Kid hates me.”

  “No, way, Waif.” His brown eyes widened and his brows shot to the sky. “I wike you.” He grinned like he was posing for a picture. All teeth.

  “Bite?” He scooped a big glob of it onto his spoon and held it up to me, clumps of it dripping off the huge mound and falling to the ground, way too eager for me to comply.

  “Eat!” he demanded with the most massive, hopeful grin.

  My eyes fell to Mia. Her expression was soft as she looked down at her kid in sheer adoration.

  And shit. I was a damned fool. Such a fool because I was leaning down and taking the bite he offered, pretending like I was gobbling it up.

  And it hurt and it slayed and it busted me wide open again.

  Pulling back, I swallowed hard and pinned on the brightest smile I could find. Probably looked like the Joker.

  Deranged.

  Unhinged.

  Crazed.

  Greyson howled with laughter.

  “My turn! Watch me!” He shoveled a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth. “I share, Momma.”

  He turned his face up toward her, looking for praise.

  “That is very nice of you. But no more throwing food because that isn’t nice.” She tapped his nose with the last.

  “I nice,” he refuted, and God, I was going to lose my mind.

  Already had, apparently, because Tamar had shown up at the table and set Adia’s plate down in front of her. “Why don’t you two make your plates. I’ll get these guys set.”

  Mia’s mouth pulled at one side and her eyes narrowed when something played across Tamar’s red lips. A silent conversation transpired between the two of them that clearly had everything to do with me.

  Awesome.

  “Are you hungry?” Mia finally asked, shifting that gaze to me. There went my blood, traveling south, and not to my growling stomach.

  “Starved.”

  She offered the smallest smile and an even smaller nod.

  I thought maybe a truce.

  A free pass.

  She was going to let me off on the bullshit I’d pulled last night.

  “We should eat, then. If we don’t, Ash will never let us hear the end of it.”

  “Damn right, I won’t,” he hollered from across the deck.

  At her side, I made a plate, fighting the rumble of something deep in my bones. I shoved it down.

  I could do this.

  I could stay here without fucking it all up.

  Ruining it all.

  I sat down beside her at the larger table, pretending like I didn’t notice it was a circle of couples.

  The love-fucked.

  I took a hard glance at Mia. Tucking the feeling away. Wanting a piece of this for me.

  Reminding myself again why that would forever be an impossibility.

  Fifteen

  Leif

  Twenty-One Years Old

  Strobe lights flashed in blinding rays of white light as I railed on the drums. Sweat flung from my drenched body. Soul crashing with the violent, raging rhythm.

  The crowd surged and thrashed and toiled at the foot of the stage. Wild. Untamed. Minds absent, swept away in the reckless energy as they throbbed in the pit.

  I fed off of it. Sucked it down. Muscles in my arms screaming with exertion as I pounded through the song.

  The rest of the band came unhinged on the stage. Guitar and bass deafening. Milo screamed his aggression into the mic as his entire body slammed with the beat.

  And for a few minutes, every single person in that club was free.

  I tossed my sticks into the crowd. All the people standing at the foot of the stage were gasping for their breaths, as soaked as me, all the chaos they’d been holding onto released into the songs that we had played. I strode off the stage and went right for the room in the back.

  Couches were set up all around. Lights cut low. Music blared from the speakers.

  I accepted the bottle Miles offered as I walked in.

  I plopped onto a couch. Did two fat lines that were already cut on the table, and I didn’t complain at all when a girl I’d hooked up with last week got onto her knees and went to work on my fly.

  Lyrik West and his crew rolled in.

  I gestured to the table.

  My offering.

  As long as they had the dough, all were welcome to play with me.

  The band was nothing but an easy cover.

  Music might have been the one piece that I still possessed of my soul, but it was Keeton who owned me.

  Lyrik cocked me a smirk as he took a seat and gave himself over to the oblivion.

  I guessed it was the least I could do.

  * * *

  Leif, Twenty-Three Ye
ars Old

  The front door of the auto-shop swished open, sending a slice of late afternoon light streaking into the reception area. Heaving out a sigh, I sat forward on the stool where I sat behind the counter, trying not to be annoyed as I tossed my phone to the grungy surface.

  But this bullshit was stupid.

  Sitting up here like I was some kind of mechanic’s apprentice or some shit.

  I had barely glanced up at the figure that slipped inside before my throat was going thick with a tingly awareness. My head snapped up to find this girl who was all kinds of wary standing just inside.

  Wearing the shortest shorts and a long tee that almost covered them, her blonde hair swept up in a messy knot on top of her head. Flipflops on her feet.

  There was an oil streak on her gorgeous face.

  An innocent face.

  Shy and sweet. Cheeks full, almost as full as her pink lips.

  Her green eyes were big and round as she took in the surroundings. “I . . . um . . . are you open?” she asked, her nerves skating through the air.

  “Yeah.”

  She gestured out the door. “I got a flat. I tried to change it myself, but . . .” she trailed off, those eyes watching me as I pushed to standing.

  My heart rate sped.

  Sped with something brand new.

  “You need my help?” I grunted out.

  She smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

  * * *

  We banged into my apartment. Door crashing on the wall as I went back for her. Diving in for a kiss that I didn’t ever want to end. My arms curled around her tiny body. Lifting her from her feet. Spinning her and spinning her as we kissed and touched and clawed to get closer to the other.

  Frantic.

  Like if we lost this moment, we were going to lose everything.

  We knocked into the entryway table as I yanked her shirt over her head, and a second later, I had her pressed to the door.

  Kissing her like it was the last thing I was going to do.

  Just as quickly, I pulled her away and lay her out on the couch.

  Like I couldn’t sit still.

  Desperate to have her everywhere.

  And I knew I was never going to be good enough for this girl when she shivered like she’d never been touched before when I ran my nose up the inside of her thigh, from her knee up to the hem of those super short shorts. When she whimpered as I dragged them down her legs. When she whispered, “Be careful with me,” when I crawled over her.

  I gathered her up, held her close, and I made a silent promise that I would always be.

  That this was different.

  Tender when I slowly pushed myself into the sweet relief of her body.

  She gasped, and her head rocked back on the couch cushion, her chest pressing into mine. I swallowed the sound, relishing in the feel of her blunted fingernails sinking into my shoulders.

  Her arms tight around my neck and her heart a thunder that raced to meet with mine.

  I edged back, watching down on her as I fucked her.

  But I knew well enough this was different.

  This was different than all those girls.

  Knew I wasn’t ever going to be the same.

  * * *

  She nervously raked her teeth across her bottom lip, glancing up at me where she was curled up at my side with her head rested on my shoulder. Two of us under the covers in my bed. Her sweet body warm and alive next to mine.

  Night pressed at the small window of my bedroom.

  The sleazy sounds of Los Angeles howled through the darkness right outside the rundown building.

  Sirens spinning. Gunshots in the distance. Shouts of hatred and abuse.

  She just curled deeper into the safety of my arms while I pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “Hi,” I murmured.

  A timid smile pulled at her mouth, and she gazed up at me, tentatively playing her fingers across the satisfied thrum in my chest. “I never imagined this was the way my day would turn out.”

  I squeezed her a little, the words I delivered close to a tease. “What, you didn’t expect to get a flat tire?”

  A slight giggle slipped from her mouth. “I think I hit a little more than a bump in the road.”

  I blew out a heavy sigh, shifted so I could spread my hand out over her cheek.

  Sure I’d never spoken a louder truth in my entire life.

  “Never could have anticipated crashing into you.”

  Sixteen

  Mia

  The house echoed a hushed stillness, the windows darkened to a wispy calm from within, walls seeping with a resonating silence.

  The hour deep.

  Only hours until dawn.

  But I couldn’t sleep. I guessed the worry and fear and dread were finally catching up to me. Wearing me thin.

  It’d been four nights since the false alarm had rung through the house.

  Tonight, I found I couldn’t remain locked inside that room for any longer, so I’d slipped out to the pool with a bottle of wine in search of peace.

  That peace lasted for all of ten minutes before I heard the heavy engine roar as it came up the street and parked in the garage at the back.

  His footsteps echoed from the other side of the wall as he came up the sidewalk. The gate buzzed, swung open, and he was there.

  Emitting his own gravity.

  He was wearing tattered jeans and another thread-bare tee, this one white and stretched taut across his strong chest.

  “Mia . . . what are you doing out here this late?” The words were grated, scraping across my flesh like the seductive rake of teeth.

  A shiver rolled down my spine, and I clutched my wine glass to my chest as I sat forward a little, my legs dipping deeper into the cool waters like it could halt the flashfire that lit in my body. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to be. Both you and my brother seem to think I need to be permanently locked in my room. I might as well be Brendon and Kallie with the way you treat me.”

  Maybe it was a challenge. A gauntlet. A tease.

  Anything to ease the tension that was banging between us.

  He huffed a sound and looked to the side before bringing that penetrating gaze back to me. “Had I known you were going to be out here this late, I wouldn’t have left.”

  Skeptical laugher rippled from my mouth, and I took a sip of my wine. “I thought you were here to play. I wasn’t aware that my brother had hired you as a body guard.”

  “Maybe you’d be better off if he had. Seems it would have served a better purpose.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve seen plenty in my life. I’m not helpless.”

  His head shook, his hair tossing shadows against the brick walls where the yard lights glowed across his face. “Never implied you were, but you have more important things to be living for than I do.”

  There was something in his voice, the twist of a knife slashing his tongue that had me swiveling my attention fully to him. My eyes narrowed as I tried to make him out better through the lapping darkness. “Why would you say that?”

  Blowing out a sigh, he glanced toward the wing of the house where my children slept. “I think we both know what’s really important in life, don’t we?”

  My spirit clutched in an erratic way, and a thick, solid lump formed at the base of my throat.

  “I know what’s important to me,” I answered on a haggard breath.

  A smile tugged at his mouth. One that was utterly sad. Beautiful and dark and invading the space.

  This man that was terrifyingly beautiful and devastatingly bad.

  Written in the scars he wouldn’t allow anyone to see.

  “Do you want to join me?” I asked, lifting the bottle of wine I had sitting on the cool deck beside me.

  Blatant enticement.

  Apparently, I was wanting a few more of those scars for myself.

  But I couldn’t get over the other night. The way he’d touched me. Kissed me. The way for a few blinding moments, I’d
felt utterly alive.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mia.”

  “Friends,” I told him. God. I was so full of shit. “We’ve been managing that, haven’t we?”

  He laughed a harsh sound. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  “I do.”

  He blew out an exasperated sound, his face downturned, hesitating, before he finally gave and started to move in my direction. He grabbed the end of a pool lounger and dragged it over to where I was, sitting down on the very end of it about a foot away.

  He rested his forearms on his thighs.

  His lean, cut body on edge.

  I could almost feel his spirit fluttering in the stagnant air.

  “Not exactly dressed in pool attire.” He gestured to his boots and jeans before his gaze was sweeping me, my tank and short shorts, my bare legs exposed in the muted light in the water.

  Hunger flashed in his eyes.

  Desire and need.

  Chills rolled. Goosebumps a ripple across my skin.

  I cleared my throat and forced a light smile as I swiveled to face him, offering him my glass of wine. “I share as well as my son does.”

  Chuckling, Leif reached over and grabbed the full bottle instead. He tipped the entire thing up as he brought it to his mouth. His thick throat bobbed as he swallowed, his lips drenched in the sticky sweetness when he pulled the bottle away.

  He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, eyeing me the whole time.

  I gulped.

  Why did he have to be so sexy?

  He gave a new meaning to the Law of Attraction.

  His own gravitational pull.

  I felt like I was orbiting him.

  Wanting more but terrified to get too close.

  He angled his head to study me, and I took a shaky sip of my wine like it might stand as a good enough distraction to keep me from crawling on my hands and knees to him.

  “How are you doing, Mia?” His voice was serious. Hard but full of care.

  God. This man. He was going to be my undoing.

  I laughed out a brittle sound and let my gaze wander across the yard. “Other than the fact I can’t sleep? Jumping at every bump in the night?” Aside from the sorrow and the mourning? Aside from how damned badly I was aching to feel him?