Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1
Page 10
I threw the hood from my jacket over my head and walked through the cold rain to the address written on the crumpled flyer in my pocket. I quickened my pace as it rained a little harder, hoping the contents in my gym bag didn’t get soaked. I waited on the corner for the light to change so I could cross the street. My teeth chattered, and my toes were starting to numb. Not the best idea to be cold and wet during flu season, but I didn’t trust that I could make it to my destination on time if I took the bus.
A car stopped at the red light and the window rolled down.
“Maeve,” Rich called.
I took a few steps closer to the car and ducked my head to look through the window. The car looked brand-new. Then again, Rich took such good care of his material possessions that you wouldn’t be able to guess the true age of anything he owned.
He leaned over the armrest. “What the hell are you doing walking in the rain? Where’s your car?”
I crossed my arms. “Loaned it to a friend.”
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I’m not going home.”
“Just get in,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride to wherever you’re going.” The light turned green, and the cars behind Rich started to honk.
I looked back at the impatient driver who honked again. I let out a deep breath and got in the car. Rich turned the heat up, and I felt my toes defrost.
“First time I’ve picked up a girl off the street corner,” he said.
I scowled. “Let me out.”
“I’m kidding, Maeve. Damn, when did you become so serious?”
I shook my head and focused my gaze out of the window.
“Where am I taking you?”
“Laurel Drive.”
“What’s going on out there?”
I looked down at my mood ring. “There’s a dance studio there.”
Rich’s eyebrows met.
“Don’t,” I said before he could utter a word. “Just please save whatever smart ass comment you were going to say.”
He glanced at me for a second. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” He cut off the heat.
It wasn’t a long ride, and in just a few minutes Rich pulled up in front of the studio. The small building was tucked behind an automotive repair shop.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“No problem.” Rich rested his hands on his thighs. “Do you need a ride home?”
I opened the car door and let it swing open. “It’s fine. I won’t be finished here for another hour.”
“I can come back.”
I pressed my back against the seat. Rich’s warm brown eyes were smiling at me.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He let out a chuckle. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
He looked down at the steering wheel. My eyes gleamed over the tattoos on his forearms. I remembered when I went with him to the tattoo shop to have them done.
“Just trying to be friends, Maeve. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah…but you’ve been making it very clear that you can’t handle friends.”
He shrugged. “I admit I haven’t been the nicest guy to you. But you broke my heart. Can you blame me?”
I stared at his face, trying to determine if he was bluffing. This was why I never played Poker. I couldn’t tell the difference between who’s holding a good hand and who’s got nothing to work with.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you in an hour.”
I got out of the car and didn’t look back as he drove off.
The dance studio smelled like pine and spandex. It was bustling with little girls in leotards and ballet slippers and young girls stretching on the worn dance floor.
“Can I help you?” asked an older lady from behind the front desk.
“Hi, I’m here for the adult class?”
She smiled and gave me the paperwork to fill out. When that was over, she pointed to the dressing room. I edged through the crowded room to change into my leotard and tights. A few of the girls smiled at me as I got dressed. I gave them a nervous smile back, feeling a little like the first time I changed for work at the club. But this dressing room didn’t hold the same stale smell or the same worn-out faces. I saw smiles and smelled nylon. I heard laughter and feet stomping against the dance floor, not the introduction of the next dancer from the DJ or the sound of someone grunting in my ear.
“Hi,” said a girl who looked about my age. She wore her hair in a tight bun and the same black leotard and pink tights as me. “You’re new here.”
I gave her a nervous smile. “Yeah, first day.”
“I’m Billy.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. “I teach here. My mom owns the studio.”
“I’m Maeve.”
“It’s nice to have you, Maeve.” She smiled and gestured me to follow her.
I slipped on my other shoe and stuffed my gym bag in one of the lockers, and then followed her out to one of the dance rooms.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside, feeling relieved to be trading my usual vertical metal pole for a horizontal ballet bar.
* * * *
Rich took the keys out of the ignition, so I knew he wanted an invitation upstairs. And what was there to stop me from inviting him up? I had the apartment to myself and had nowhere to go.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said.
“You’re welcome.” His eyes flickered over my outfit. “You look good in…whatever it is you’re wearing.”
“It’s a leotard.”
“Yeah, that.”
“Thanks.”
I lingered in the car, my gym bag sitting in my lap. I chewed on my lower lip. “Do you want to come up?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, sure.”
We didn’t say a word to each other as we walked up to the apartment. There was really nothing to say. He knew why I asked him to come inside. I knew why, too.
Once we were inside, I plopped my gym bag by the door and threw the keys on the kitchen counter.
“Something to drink?” I asked.
“No, thanks.”
I opened the fridge for a bottle of water. Rich sat on the couch. It was weird watching him there — the spot where Jacob had been sleeping.
“Why don’t you come and sit down.” He patted the space next to him.
I meandered around the kitchen counter and sat but made sure to leave a few inches between us.
“How was dance class?”
“It was good. I think I’m going to go back next week.” I’d met a few girls whose first names weren’t a gemstone or the name of a car. Normal girls who loved to dance because of how it felt, not because of how much cash was thrown at them.
“Is that why you work at the club?” he asked. “Because you like to dance?”
I stared down at my half-empty water bottle. “I work at the club to pay bills, Rich. It’s not exactly the kind of dancing you do at a ballet studio.”
He smiled. “I still can’t believe you work there.”
“Why?”
He should believe it. I’d given him enough lap dances to prove it.
He shrugged. “I dunno. I only go there to see you, you know.”
I turned to look at him, my fingers still picking at the label on the water bottle. “Why do you come and see me?”
“Because I love watching you dance.”
He leaned in close to my face. The smell of his skin brought me back to freshmen year. Rich had been the first guy I’d slept with in college. I had been lost on campus, and he’d offered to walk me to my next class. A few days later and my feet were braced on the wall against his twin size bed in his dorm room. It was like that for a while until Rich had brought up the idea of exclusivity.
Rich set his lips on mine. Kissing him was like dancing choreography I’d learn years ago. Once I remembered the right steps, everything else flowed together. I kissed him back, readjusting myself s
o that I was straddling his waist. His hands ran up and down my tights.
“You can’t spend the night,” I said between kissing.
He pulled back. “What?”
I held his face and looked him in the eyes. “When we’re done. You can’t spend the night.”
He kissed me again. I loosened up and pulled the hair tie free from my hair.
When I heard the doorknob jiggle, I froze. Rich sat still, his mouth hanging open.
I perked my ears to listen over the pelting rain against the window.
Shit. It was definitely the door.
I leapt off Rich’s lap and back onto the couch, just in time to see Jacob walk through the door. It was dark in the apartment, so I wasn’t sure if he noticed we were there.
Rich and I both cowered back when he flicked on the light. Jacob’s eyes immediately fell on me.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “You’re back.”
Fuck. I felt like a jerk. What was I doing? And why was I about to do it with Rich?
“Uh, Rich. This is Jacob,” I said, almost as if an introduction would suddenly make them friends.
Jacob just stood there, silent, holding a small brown paper bag. His hair and shirt were damp.
Rich switched his gaze between both sides of the room. “Jacob? You have a boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“I’m staying with Maeve for a while,” Jacob said.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said to Rich.
“What?” Rich whispered.
I turned to look at him. “You have to go.”
He grumbled as he got off the couch and headed toward the door. Jacob took two steps to the right to let him pass.
“Have a nice night,” I heard Jacob mutter to Rich before he walked out.
I couldn’t look at Jacob’s face, but I could feel him looking at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Finished early with Jim and wanted to surprise you.” He walked toward the couch and set the brown bag on the coffee table. “Aunt Meg made apple cobbler. I know it’s your favorite, so I thought I’d bring some home for you.”
I reached out for the bag and peeked inside. The smell of cinnamon wafted toward my nose. “Thank you.”
“Sorry I interrupted.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything. He just gave me a ride home from dance class.”
“How did it go?” He sat down on the opposite side of the couch.
I leaned back and laid my head against the cushion. “It was wonderful.” I turned to face him. “Thank you for suggesting it.”
A frown creased the lower part of his face. His glasses were speckled with raindrops. Why didn’t he dry them off? Maybe because he would rather not see me. Thank God he’d walked in when he did. I didn’t think I could have ever faced him again if he’d been there when Rich was walking out of the bedroom.
“Aunt Meg was disappointed that you didn’t come with me.”
I got up from the couch and snatched the brown bag with the cobbler. “I’m sure she knew why.” I walked to the kitchen to grab a fork. I might have been upset with Aunt Meg, but there was no way I was passing up her apple cobbler.
“She wants to know if you’re coming for Thanksgiving.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter and stabbed my fork into the opened Tupperware. “I don’t know.”
“Your mom won’t be there.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me herself.”
I took a bite of the cobbler and let out a deep breath. It felt good to have a little piece of home. “Okay, then. I guess I’m coming for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Jacob gave me a small smile. “Good. Then we can leave Thursday morning. Or we could leave Wednesday night. There’s a holiday party at work, but I don’t have to go.”
“No, it’s fine. Go to the party. We can leave Thursday.”
I finished the last few bites of the cobbler and set the empty container and dirty fork in the sink to wash.
“Would you come with me?” he said.
“To the party?”
“Yeah. We haven’t hung out in a while.”
I shrugged. “Okay. It’ll be good to get out when midterms are over.”
“Great.” Jacob pulled out some books from his backpack. “Looking forward to it.”
“Me, too.”
“So, you ready to help me study?” he asked.
“Now?”
“Better now than never.”
I’d given up on studying. Midterms started the next day. If I didn’t know it by now, then a few more hours of studying weren’t going to do the trick.
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s see exactly how smart you really are.”
Chapter Eleven
I saw her the minute we walked into the crowded restaurant. Her sparkly top and perfectly coifed hair made her easy to spot. How many headbands did this girl own? She sunk her gaze on Jacob from across the room.
Jacob was busy introducing me to his coworkers, but I watched Taylor’s every step. Did she even notice that I was standing right next to him? Doubtful.
“Your, uh, friend is waving to you,” I said to Jacob as we made our way to the bar.
Mid-terms were over, and I was ready to celebrate. Jacob ordered us both a drink and then looked around the room.
“Taylor?” he said.
“Yeah. Did you invite her here?”
“No. She works at the clinic.” He handed me my drink.
“Since when?”
He took a swig of his beer. “Few weeks, I think.”
I let out a little snort. “How did that happen?”
“She said she needed a part-time job, so I told her there was an opening.”
I slumped my shoulders. “Come on, Jacob. You can’t be that dense.”
His eyes narrowed.
“She likes you.” I surveyed the room. “She’s one step away from having your name tattooed on her chest.”
Jacob smirked. “She’s a nice girl.”
It took all I had not to gag. I snuck another look at Taylor, who was mid conversation with another girl. She seemed like everything I wasn’t. Wholesome. Pure. Perky.
I clung to Jacob for the first hour of the party. With a little help from the second martini, I was able to loosen up. I watched Jacob as he interacted with his coworkers. Watched at how people reacted to him. It made me smile. Jacob had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room. My eyes gleamed over his mouth when he smiled and over his arms as he pushed the hair away from his forehead. I wondered what it’d be like to get my fingers tangled in that hair.
I got lost in the thought of kissing him, remembering how it felt. My face flushed, and the conversation of the crowd seemed louder. I set my drink down at an empty table and wiped my damp palms against my jeans.
“Everything okay?” Jacob whispered close to me.
The goosebumps flared along my skin when his lips met my ear.
I nodded. “I’m just going to use the bathroom.” He gave me a scrutinizing stare. “Really, I’m fine. I think I drank that martini a little too fast. I’ll be right back.” I snaked through the sea of people to get to the ladies’ room. I ran the cold water at the sink and wet some paper towels to dab my flaming cheeks.
I needed to get it together. Why was this so hard?
I took a deep breath and pulled my hair behind my shoulders. When I left the bathroom, I had to distract myself with someone other than Jacob.
But that plan was going to be hard to follow through with. I made my way through the crowd and found Jacob huddled next to Taylor. I stopped to watch them, focusing my vision so hard that it blocked out everything else in the room. Ugh, she was smiling and laughing, spewing her conservative sweetness all over him. Probably telling him she was a virgin, waiting for the right guy to come along. What was worse—he was smiling with her. He was actually enjoying the conversation.
Di
d I interrupt them? I knew I could. It would be easy.
But I fought the urge and headed for the bar instead. I sat down with a huff and ordered a diet Coke. No more drinking for me. My thoughts were fuzzy enough. I needed to feel in control and focused.
“Is this seat taken?” a deep voice asked.
I didn’t bother to look up from my phone. Rude, I know. But I wasn’t in the mood.
“If it’s empty, then I guess it’s available.” I rummaged through my purse for a piece of Nicorette gum.
I heard some shuffling, so I assumed he sat down.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I nodded toward my soda and popped my gum. “Taken care of already, thanks.”
He drummed his fingers along the bar as he ordered from the bartender. “You look familiar,” he said to me after the bartender set his drink down and walked away.
I did an internal groan and set my phone down on the bar. Like I never heard that line before. But when our eyes met, I knew why. Shit. And I thought this night couldn’t get any worse. I recognized him from the club. He’d come in the other night with a bachelor party and spent a pretty penny on me and a couple other girls. What the fuck was he doing here?
“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.” Back to having my face in the phone.
“No,” he said. “I’ve seen you somewhere.” He slung back his shot and then took a sip of his beer. Probably the reason he couldn’t quite pin me—he’d racked up a pretty high tab at the club. Not that I was complaining. The less he remembered, the better.
His eyes flared open. “I know…that club. You were one of the dancers.”
Damn.
My eyes flickered around the room. Thank goodness it was loud in there. This was the last fucking thing I needed.
“It was nice talking to you.” I grabbed my phone and slinked out of my seat.
“Wait,” he said. “Sorry. I promise I won’t mention it again.”
His dark eyes were warm. He was attractive, sure. But I had the image of Rita shaking her ass in front of his face in my head — not the best foot to start off on. I glanced over at Jacob, who was still knee-deep in conversation with Taylor. Did he even notice that I hadn’t returned from the bathroom yet?