by Cari Quinn
“In the basement with my gear. We’re tricking out a whole Krystal Sword practice area.”
“But I don’t know how to play the drums. I’ve never even tried to.”
“So you’ll learn. You pick up every instrument in a nanosecond. Why do you think I bought you these? Otherwise you’d be kicking my ass on the guitar in no time.”
She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he laughed and gripped her waist. “Thank you. Oh God, I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
He brushed her hair out of her eyes, his fingers lingering on her temple. “That smile just did.”
Twenty-Four
Now
Getting the munchies at five a.m. when you really wanted nothing more than another hour’s sleep and a quickie freaking sucked.
Jazz threw her legs over the side of the bed and winced. Yeah, so maybe a quickie wasn’t the best idea. She’d had so much longie the night before that her vagina threatened to file a formal protest.
A smile snuck over her face as she glanced at Gray over her shoulder. He slept on his back with the sheets pooled around his waist and his arm thrown over his face. No wonder he’d finally crashed. Her thigh muscles were still trembling from how hard they’d gone at each other. She hadn’t known it was physically possible to have sex for that long. It certainly wasn’t something she was familiar with. Her previous max had been twice in one night, and even that was as rare as the dodo bird. Most guys just rolled over and that was it.
But not Gray. He just went…and went…and went. He’d fucked her a good three times before he’d even come, for God’s sake. Which made his losing it on his lap while eating her out the night before even more adorable. Clearly the guy had the stamina of ten men, so if he’d gotten that turned on by going down on her—
She grinned. Yeah, she’d just float on that knowledge for a year or two.
Biting her lip, she rose and hobbled over to the armoire. She pulled out one of the robes and wrapped herself in the decadent terrycloth, brushing her nose along the collar. She’d forever associate that faint cinnamon scent with Gray and lovemaking from now on.
Hell, who was she kidding? She’d associate everything with Gray and lovemaking. Hot tubs, terrycloth robes, silky sheets rubbing over her naked torso while she slept. He’d slept nude for years but she never had before the last two nights, with him.
At this rate, she never wanted to put on clothes again.
She moved toward the door a little too fast and her head sloshed, making her giggle and slap her hand against her forehead to hold it still. Guess her high hadn’t totally worn off yet. She couldn’t say she minded. It was nice to walk down the hall toward the front of the cabin and not quite feel her toes on the floor. This floaty sensation she had going worked for her big time.
Nothing to worry about. No stress. Just afterglow and a nice, low-key buzz.
Trying to be quiet, she fumbled around in the dark, walking into walls, bumping into furniture. Giggling with every misstep. She finally found herself in the kitchen and flipped on the light. A gasp escaped her as she took in the sheer size of the space. And the appliances. Holy crap. She didn’t cook or bake very often, but she’d probably be moved to more frequently if she lived in a place like this.
She padded over to the gigantic stainless steel refrigerator and pulled open the door. Inside there was everything she could possibly want. Wrapped sandwiches, a cheese plate, fruits and veggies. She pulled out the cheese plate and turned, intending to search for crackers.
Instead she came face-to-face with a very naked Nick.
Her hand slipped on the plate and she would’ve dropped it if he hadn’t darted forward to close his hands around hers. She stared up at his face—which was much better than staring at his schlong—and blinked. “Uh, thanks. Um. You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here?”
“Not so much. Close your robe, Jasmine. I might see something I’ve already had.”
She thrust the plate into his hands and turned around, hurriedly tying her robe tightly enough to cut off her air supply. Guilt surged into her, thick and hot. She couldn’t even say if she felt guiltier for Nick catching her in the cabin next to naked or because he’d seen her next to naked again, a fact Gray would not appreciate. While she puzzled it out, Nick set down the plate on the table, then stepped closer and loudly sniffed her hair.
“You smell like pot,” he said flatly.
“So?” She turned around. “What’s the big deal?”
He tucked his fists under his arms, evidently perfectly at ease with his nudity. What was up with the boys in this house? “Since when do you do that shit?”
She averted her gaze. “Can you please cover up?”
“I thought we were all friends here.” She heard the smirk in his voice even without seeing it. “Fine.” With a heavy sigh, he moved to the counter and returned with a couple of dishtowels linked together and slung immodestly around his waist. “Better?”
“Not hardly.”
“Oh Christ, you’ve seen it, licked it, and ridden it. The only thing you didn’t do was play backdoor bingo with it and that probably wouldn’t have been off the table if we’d had more time. At least judging from the screams coming out of Gray’s room.”
He was just goading her. Just digging around, looking for the weak spot. She knew better than to engage him, especially when she held a huge amount of the responsibility for this hopelessly awkward situation. But she was just blitzed enough not to care.
“We didn’t do that. Yet.”
Nick snorted and snatched a piece of cheddar off the plate. “No, you used the time to get high instead. Trust me, you’ll hurt a lot less over the long-term if you stick to bottom-friendly activities.”
She shouldn’t laugh. Too bad she was still high enough to find him amusing rather than inappropriate. She choked on her chuckle and chose a piece of cheddar for herself, popping it in her mouth once her giggles had subsided.
Nick narrowed his eyes. “You look happy. Or is that just the high?”
“I am happy. And high,” she admitted. “But not very. I didn’t smoke that much and it’s been a couple of hours.”
“Enough to get the munchies at five a.m.,” he said drily, holding a hand over his dishtowels as he strolled to the table. Unfortunately, he hadn’t done such a great job at covering his ass, which she got a healthy glimpse of before she turned her back.
“I’m sitting now. It’s safe to look.”
Without responding, she joined him at the table. She probably shouldn’t sit with him while he was basically naked, but for God’s sake, they were in a band together. They were sort of friends. And she owed him…something.
“That proves it,” he said after a moment, his focus on the cheese. He selected another piece and flipped it between his dexterous fingers.
Damn guitarists. Everything was a pick to them. Though she wasn’t much better, considering she was tapping her fingers on her thigh.
“Proves what?” she asked, stilling her hand in favor of grabbing another piece of cheese.
“We’re sitting here, both of us almost naked, and there aren’t any sparks between us.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she muttered.
He laughed. “Annoyance doesn’t count. You’re over me. And while I might be not so pleased about that for myself, I’m glad for you.”
She tilted her head to gauge his sincerity. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“Since when are you so altruistic?”
“I’m sitting here with a fucking boner, staring at cheese so I don’t stare at your tits. Does that sound altruistic to you?”
There she went, laughing again. “Your boner must’ve gotten smaller, because I totally didn’t notice.”
“Ouch. The lady has a sharp tongue.” His mouth quirked. “And knows how to use it.”
“I’m so not a lady.” She sighed and nibbled cheese off her thumb. “I’m sorry. This situatio
n sucks sweaty balls.”
“Can’t say I’m thrilled with it.” He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward, his gaze snagging hers. “I’m less thrilled with you smoking up when I know it’s not your scene. He doesn’t have you doing anything else, does he?”
She rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. All the excitement of the past two nights must be finally catching up with her. “Anything else like what?”
“Anything harder than pot.”
Something in his voice made her drop her hand in her lap and give him a hard stare. “A, he doesn’t have me doing anything, period. I make my own choices. I don’t normally smoke but it’s not like I haven’t in the past.” Years ago, when I didn’t know any better.
Jeez, where was that judgmental voice coming from? There was nothing wrong with a bit of harmless experimentation now and then. She hadn’t smoked in years but that didn’t mean she had a problem with it. She definitely didn’t see any issues when she was still coasting, though that floaty state was starting to wear off. Dammit.
“Sure you did.”
“I did. And C, what are you insinuating? What else besides pot would he be ‘having me do’? You realize how completely random that is, right?”
“You missed B, and it’s not random at all. Users use. I’ve seen enough of that with my own relatives. Not saying all pot smokers take it to the next level, but plenty do.”
“Maybe some do, but not Gray.” She shoved another slice of cheddar between her lips.
“Sorry, I must’ve missed his halo the last time we spoke.” Shaking his head, he laid his hand on the table as if he intended to get up. “Look, never mind. You’re all abuzz with sex hormones and you’re probably still higher than a kite. We’ll talk when you’re—”
“I love him,” she interrupted, snatching Nick’s arm before he could rise. “It’s not sex or weed that has me buzzing. Well, not entirely. It’s him. I’ve wanted this since I was a kid, Nick.”
He didn’t respond for a few moments. “I understand that,” he said finally. “And I hope it turns out to be exactly what you’ve been wishing for. But if it doesn’t, I’ll be here.”
“Here for what? To fuck me all better?” She let his arm drop and covered her face with her hands. Tears threatened, burning the back of her eyes, and beyond them lurked shame. For what, she wasn’t even sure.
Was this the crash? Or did some part of her hear the warning in Nick’s words, and know he was right to offer it?
“This isn’t about fucking,” he said quietly, and that only made the shame burn hotter, scorching her cheeks. “We’ve been past that for a while now. I told you to go after him, remember? Twice,” he added. “I didn’t want to. I still did it, and it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”
She lowered her hands into her lap and nodded, swallowing hard. It was all just overwhelming, is all. Even getting exactly what you wanted after so long cost a big emotional toll. No wonder she was reeling.
“I’d like to think that maybe we’re even friends.”
“Yes,” she whispered, struggling to meet his gaze. “We are. At least I think so. But if you’ve got a problem with Gray, then you have a problem with me. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is.”
Nick lifted his hands, palms out. “Hey, I managed to collaborate with the guy today. He’s got some chops.”
Her surprise dried the leftover dampness in her eyes. Damn, that was some really good pot if it had her reading this situation all wrong. Perhaps he was actually being a dick and she was still buzzing enough not to notice. “Swear you’re not messing with me?”
“I swear. We came up with some good stuff. We were at it for hours.” At her flush, he laughed. “Sorry, bad choice of words considering. But we’re dealing with each other.”
“Good.”
He shrugged. “Not saying we’ll ever be pals, but maybe we can keep it about the music and leave the rest behind.”
“We all want the same thing. For Oblivion to rock.”
“True enough. Hey, I’m inviting a friend over tonight. Serious hot tub time.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “You should stop by earlier and we can all party together. Sound good?”
“You should stop by earlier and we can all party together. Sound good?”
From just outside the doorway, Gray heard only those two sentences, but they were more than enough. He stepped inside the kitchen and tried to keep his face impassive despite the cozy scene he found. Jazz wearing just a robe, her hair tumbled around her sleepy eyes and her mouth still swollen from his kisses.
And Nick was fucking naked from the waist up—and the waist down, something that became apparent when the other man stood to meet Gray’s silent challenge.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Gray asked, blinking away the haze from his mind. He’d crashed hard and slept better than he had in weeks—maybe ever—but now the light made his eyes hurt. “You’re sitting around wearing fucking dishtowels while you’re talking to my girl?” And making plans with her tonight right under my nose.
“Gray,” Jazz began, pushing aside the little snack the two of them had been sharing. “Don’t do this. Nick’s cool.”
Gray slouched against the doorway, fighting every instinct that demanded he cross the room and tug Jazz into his arms like a kid with his favorite toy. But he wouldn’t do that, because if he and Jazz were going to have a real chance, he had to trust that what was between them could withstand anything.
Even Nick freaking Crandall.
“Is he now?” Amazing that he managed to sound so calm when everything inside him was raging out of control. Just seeing Jazz with her cheeks and neck softly pink from his own stubble burn made all kinds of crazy intense protective instincts surge to the forefront.
“Yes. We were just talking. He knows about us now,” she added, somewhat unnecessarily considering her very presence in their cabin at this time of day. “It’s all good.”
Somehow he doubted that. Gray swiveled his head to give Nick a steady look. “That so?”
“Sure. It’s not like I hadn’t figured it out the first night we were here, what with all the screaming.” Smiling blandly, Nick leaned against the wraparound counter and cocked his hip, probably to show off his barely covered attributes.
“Screaming’s a bit of an overstatement,” Jazz mumbled, making a sandwich out of her cheese before popping it into her mouth.
If he had his way, she’d scream twice as loud next time to wipe the smile off that smug bastard’s face.
Gray pushed his fists into the pockets of his robe. “So what’s this about a party tonight?”
“I invited a friend over. No orgy yet, though I also invited Jazz.” Nick licked his lips. “And you, of course.”
“Sorry to get in your way, man.”
“It’s kind of a habit of yours, isn’t it?”
“Nick,” Jazz said, not looking at either of them.
Gray plastered on his own thin smile. “I think we’ll be busy tonight. Thanks but no thanks.”
“Christ, this is way too much drama before breakfast. I’m outta here,” Nick said, pushing his way past Gray into the hall.
Gray waited until Nick’s bedroom door slammed shut before he inhaled, long and slow. The residual burn in his nose made him shut his eyes.
Every step forward with Nick always resulted in two back. Not kicking the guy’s ass for openly coveting Jazz was bad enough. But knowing that he was silently—and not so silently—judging him, and waiting for him to fail so that he could swoop in and be the savior dumped even more gasoline on the fire.
Worse, he couldn’t help wondering if the reason Nick’s condemnation sliced so deep was because it echoed everything replaying on a constant loop in his head.
When he was sure he had a hold on his ragged emotions, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside Jazz. Rather than speak, he gestured for her to get on his lap. He half expected her to decline, but she sighed and folded herself against his chest, curling her small fist i
n the vee of his robe. Right over his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, stroking her tangled hair.
“For what?”
For so much more than I can ever say. “That this is so unpleasant for you.”
Her quiet laughter took him by surprise. “It’s a clusterfuck for all of us, not just me.” She straightened her fingers, brushing the smattering of hair on his chest. “This is all my fault.”
“No.”
“Yes. I knew better than to bring him into the middle of us.” She kissed the dent in his chin. “I know you don’t believe it, but it’s most unfair to him. We’re happy. He’s not. Not because of me, I don’t think, just in general.”
He stared out the window above the sink at the towering firs tipped in morning silver. “I can’t think about his happiness when you’re in my arms. Honor no longer exists.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “All I care about is making you mine.”
Her lips tipped up on one side. “You did that years ago. All the years in between were us just getting it right.”
It wasn’t that simple. Couldn’t be that simple no matter how much he wished he could rewrite history. Yesterday had provided yet another example why not.
Cricket had met up with him a couple of hours before Jazz arrived, and she’d doled out more blow than expected. It had helped that he’d given her a down payment on what he owed—also known as two-thirds of his savings—but she’d also been surprisingly understanding about the Nick situation. And when she’d hit on him again and he’d mumbled out an explanation about Jazz, she’d backed off.
She probably thought he was an idiot. As long as she kept supplying him, he really didn’t give a shit.
Regardless, he needed to start trying to cut back. After last night, he’d proven he couldn’t be trusted when he’d done a line. Not only had he encouraged Jazz to smoke with him, he’d been high enough to think that trying Jere’s coke-on-pussy trick was a good idea. Thank God she hadn’t taken him up on the idea of trying something more adventurous.
