by Cari Quinn
Then there were all the hours they spent together before sleep…
She nodded and reached out to cup his jaw. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I am now. Just stay in the cabin with me, baby. Please.”
The tremor in his voice had her nodding again. He really had missed her. She smiled for his benefit and stroked her index finger over his eyebrow ring. “How can I say no to a sexy, sweaty rock god in denim and leather?”
“I’m not a rock god with you. I’m just a guy who’s in love with a girl.”
She launched herself into his arms and pressed her face into his damp hair. His laughter rumbled through her, sweet and reassuring, and his arms banded around her like steel, holding her up. He would never let her fall.
“Let’s go.” She eased back and grinned. “My plans for the night just got a lot more interesting.”
Twenty-Nine
Then
“You can’t just bring a couple of pairs of shorts and T-shirts. What if the Minors want to take you out to dinner somewhere fancy?”
Gray snorted and tossed a pair of rolled-up socks in the open suitcase beside her on the bed. “The Minors aren’t going to be home. Think you’re missing the point, squirt. This is the final party before college. A long weekend to rip it up on the beach—”
“Yeah, because there are no beaches here.” Jazz dug a pair of his board shorts out of the suitcase. “These are surfer shorts. You don’t surf.”
“Sure I do. Just not particularly well.” Grinning, he snatched the shorts and tossed them back in the suitcase. “You should be happy I’m leaving. Now you’ll get a whole long weekend to yourself to practice Krystal Sword’s latest material in the basement without me prodding you to take it up a notch.”
She wrapped her arms around her updrawn legs and dropped her chin to her knee. Moping wouldn’t do her any good. Her life was going pretty well. She’d recently joined Gray’s band for real—no more probationary period—and she’d made it through the school year with nothing lower than a C. She’d gotten her job at the waffle house, and it wasn’t completely sucky.
Hell, she even had a couple of friends. And none of them laughed when she brought her not-quite-brother with her to parties. They were kind of a fixture now. Gray-and-Jazz. Jazz-and-Gray. Where one went, the other wasn’t far behind.
Soon, he would be so far ahead of her that she couldn’t ever hope to catch up.
“I wish I wasn’t so fucking young,” she whispered.
“Say what?” He started to laugh, but then he must’ve seen her face because he fell silent.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
He sat beside her, too close as always. The boundaries between them seemed to grow thinner by the day, and a part of her rejoiced at that. The rest knew she couldn’t let it happen. Somehow she had to erect barriers strong enough to keep him out.
Not when it came to her body. Sex was easy. She’d finally had it for the first time a couple of months ago when Gray was gone for a weekend visiting Berkeley. It had been fine. No big deal. She and the guy were still friendly. But matters of the heart were a different story. She’d already let Gray in way too far, especially since he was going to leave.
Forget going to. Every time she looked into his eyes, she saw that his bags were already mentally packed. He was ready to move on from life in suburban Vista View.
Ready to move on from life with her.
“You know, it’s not going to be easy for me either,” he said quietly. “You’re my best friend. Do you honestly think I want to leave you?”
She couldn’t restrain her laugh. “Dude, you’re so eager to go. Don’t even try to hide it.”
“I’m eager to go somewhere new, try something different. But I’m not the least bit excited about leaving you.” He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I have an idea.”
“Uh oh.”
He grinned. “Let’s you and me spend the weekend together. Somewhere far from here.”
She blinked. Blinked again. She wasn’t sure what he was suggesting, but the possibility made her tingles have little tingle babies. “You don’t mean…”
“Let’s go somewhere and get a room—a couple of rooms,” he said quickly. “Bring our guitars and sit up playing all night, writing fucking awesome music.”
And fucking. Please God.
But she didn’t say that, because that couldn’t happen for a million reasons. Not the least of which was that she wanted the Duffys to adopt her. Her screwing around with their son wouldn’t exactly show them she was worthy of the title of daughter. Plus, it seemed seriously squicky. She and Gray weren’t related, but if she legally became his sister, that would change things. And she really wanted to be a Duffy.
She also really wanted to have sex with Gray.
“You already have plans. Why would you want to break them to be with me?”
Lightly, he pinched the back of her hand. “You didn’t seriously just ask that, did you? Hello, I’ve broken plans this entire year to be with you. We have fun together.” He bumped her hip with his. “Don’t we?”
“Guess so.”
“Jeez, a little enthusiasm, please.”
“Yes, we have fun. Always.” She grinned and tried to tamp down on her growing excitement. “But where would we go?”
The width of his grin matched hers. “Anywhere. My graduation money’s burning a hole in my pocket so it’s dealer’s choice.”
“San Francisco,” she said immediately, thinking of the stacks of postcards she’d sent away for from Chambers of Commerce all over the country.
Imagining where else she could go had helped make the lonely nights in random foster homes seem more bearable. She dreamed of traveling all over the world, but the Golden Gate bridge had always called loudest and longest to her. She’d imagined standing on it so many times, looking out across the water, her hair blowing behind her in the breeze. Bright sunshine warming her skin, filling her up inside so nothing bad could ever touch her again.
“How come?”
“Because it reminds me of freedom.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. She waited for him to tease her, but he only nodded.
“Yeah.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go to San Francisco.”
Thirty
Now
This was either her brightest idea or her worst.
Several days later, flush from a day of beautification—a manicure, a spa wrap and a new haircut and color, despite the warnings from her stylist that she’d probably end up bald—Jazz pulled up in the driveway of the cabin. She’d really found her groove working with Deak and Simon, and she wanted to extend that streak. Perhaps she could even start knitting the band back together. The two factions of Oblivion would only be separate for a couple more days, and if she could start linking the two groups ahead of time, that would make their upcoming weekend sequester so much more tolerable.
She dug out her phone to text Gray.
Come out and help me.
His answer was nearly instantaneous.
You’re here?
She smiled, reading his anticipation in the question.
I am. Now get your butt out here.
Coming. Both ways soon enough, I hope.
Depends how fast you move.
She sent him a winky face then hopped down out of the truck.
She’d arrived a couple of hours early tonight, hoping they could maybe get some practice time in with the new material she’d purloined from Deak and Simon. They didn’t mind her role as the band go-between, and they even seemed cool with her wanting to get Gray’s feedback on the latest stuff they’d come up with.
And Nick’s too, of course, assuming he was in the mood to play well with others. That was always anyone’s guess. He’d had Tori, the girl groupie with really big boobs, over the last few nights and that had mellowed him out a bit. So Jazz was hopeful he’d still be in good spirits tonight.
Jazz had just opened the back of the truck when the front
door opened. As Gray’s familiar cedarwood scent drifted over her, she let out a relieved breath. No weed tonight or any of the other nights since their argument over the sugar video. Just her Gray.
Thank God.
“Hey you. After the long day I’ve had, you’re a sight for bleary eyes.”
“Ouch. Bad one?”
“No, all good actually. We worked on three more songs, including one that Nick’s been working on solo for a while. It’s looking like we might even have a surplus to take into the studio. But the day’s a million times better now.” He tugged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his, swallowing the laughter that followed. His tongue slicked over hers, quick and hot, stirring her moan before he moved back and swept a hand over her hair. “Red now? Christ, woman, being with you is like getting a new chick every night.”
“Do you like it? Check out the streak of pink.” She ducked into the light beam from the truck and shook her head. “I cut a few inches off too.”
“I love all of your looks.”
“And here I thought you never noticed,” she teased.
“You’re always gorgeous.” He rubbed a hunk of her hair between his fingers. “I do have a particular preference though.”
For unknown reasons, her stomach sank. “Oh yeah? Which one?”
“The one where you have beautiful all dark hair without a hint of color in it but night. Because you trapped all the sunshine inside.” He skimmed his fingers over her chin and tipped her face up to his again, sealing the words with a kiss.
“Aww.” She framed his face between her hands and sighed into his mouth. “You say the sweetest things.”
His smile turned wicked. “Just buttering you up for the dirty.”
“Ha. Like you even need to.” She shivered at the cool wind that tinkled through the miles of trees around them. Uncharacteristically cold weather had settled into the area and she’d spent most of the day shivering and imagining snuggling with Gray under the duvet.
“Let’s get you inside.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Then he let out a startled laugh, evidently noticing her cargo. “Dude, you brought your drums? You moving in with me or what?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I already did, smartass. We share an apartment, remember?”
“Mmm-hmm. I’ve had the pleasure of living with you for a good portion of my life. But from now on it’ll be in the same bed.” He leaned in the back of the truck and grabbed her disassembled drum kit, hauling up the pieces with an easy strength that almost distracted her from what he’d said.
Almost.
It shouldn’t be that shocking to hear him talk about them being a real couple. She’d already said she wouldn’t settle for anything less, and he’d indicated the same. But it was still so amazing to imagine that it could be so.
“We can actually share the same bed now,” she said softly.
He turned back, his arms full of her kit, and grinned. “The minute we get back to our place, your stuff’s moving into my room.”
She picked up her drum stand and slammed the truck shut, then followed him across the lawn. “What if I want you to move into my room?”
“Mine’s bigger.”
“Is this some kind of gender stereotypical reference? Because my uterus can carry a baby. Unless your sword of destruction can do that, I win.”
“Point taken.” He choked out a laugh and shouldered open the front door. “I can’t wait to see that, by the way.”
Her breath caught. “See what?”
“You pregnant.” He tossed her another of those mind-erasing grins and shoved his way into the foyer.
“Hey Nick,” he called out. “Give us a hand.”
She stopped in the doorway, her arms going lax. First they were going to share a bed. Now he wanted to see her pregnant.
God, she was simply going to burst from happiness if he didn’t stop saying stuff like that. And best of all? It seemed as if he was just talking off the top of his head.
Hell yeah, we’re living together.
Hell yeah, we’re going to have babies.
Hell yeah, I’m going to make you my princess bride and we’ll ride off on golden steers—
“Yo, gimme that.” Nick grabbed the stand out of her hands and headed into the living room. “You planning on being a permanent fixture here until we go back? Well, more than you already are?”
“Nah, I’m not camping out here.” She booty-bumped the door shut. “I just figured since you guys are collaborating, and the three of us are too, that I could kind of be the bridge between the two groups until we get our weekend all together before we head into the studio. Deak and Simon are fine with it. The club shows have been going well—” She broke off, thinking of the awkward show with Gray at Rave. But since that night, he’d seemed fine. Mostly. “Anyway, they want your input on the stuff we’ve been coming up with.”
“Yeah, Vapor and I have had a few breakthroughs too. Lo and fucking behold.” The doorbell rang and Nick’s smile turned lascivious as he strode past her to the door she’d just closed. “Hold that thought.”
“Well hello there—” Nick began, his voice low and suggestive.
After that tone, she definitely hadn’t expected to see a hulking bald tattooed man in the doorway. From Gray’s chuckle behind her, neither had he.
“Switching teams, man?”
“Shut the hell up.” Nick opened the door wider, allowing Jazz to get a better look at the visitor’s face.
Her stomach wobbled. This was not good.
Gray’s hand landed on her shoulder an instant before Nick spoke again. “Snake, what are you doing here?”
“Now is that any way to say hello to your old buddy?” Snake muscled his way into the foyer and gave Nick a hug that Nick returned with little enthusiasm.
“And look at this, my replacements are here too. It’s like old fucking home week.” Snake swaggered across the hall and stuck his hand out at Gray, ignoring Jazz completely. “What’s up, man? Greg, isn’t it?”
“Gray,” he responded, clamping his palm that much tighter on Jazz’s shoulder. “You remember Jazz.”
Snake acted as if Gray hadn’t spoken. Jazz shifted, moving more securely into the circle of Gray’s arm. Not for protection, but because he’d tensed like a wild animal on the verge of leaping for the kill.
“Where is Tori?” Nick asked, bracing his arm on the open door. “How the hell did you find out where we’re staying?”
“Tori’s waiting in the car. She accidentally let it slip about the cabin’s location and I offered to give her a ride here, seeing as we’re old friends and all. Guess you guys had a little hot tub soiree type thing the other night?” Snake circled his finger. “She just thinks you’re the hottest thing ever. Which kind of sucks for me, since we’ve been hitting it since that party backstage last year. Guess a current Oblivion guitarist is worth more than a has-been Oblivion drummer.”
Nick shot Jazz a look. Jazz flung one at Gray, who stared at Snake as if he were the same sort of creature that he’d taken his name from.
“Okay, so you’ve got a thing for Tori. Works for me. She neglected to inform me that you two were acquainted.” From Nick’s thin smile, he’d be sharing his displeasure about that fact with her soon enough. “If you want to take her and go, by all means.”
“Really, man? That’s where we’re at after all this time?” Snake shook his head and glanced at Gray. “You ever have a friend you’ve known since you were kids, one you’d give your goddamn life for, sell you out for the flavor of the month? Fucking blows.”
“Yeah, I know what it’s like to have a friend I’d give my life for.” Gray tightened his embrace on Jazz. “You’re looking at her.”
Jazz’s heart squeezed and she glanced up at Gray, unable to suppress her smile. But he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was locked on Snake, who was glaring at Nick.
“That’s not what happened and you know it. I had your back long af
ter Simon and Deacon turned theirs. I fought to keep you in the band. You promised me you’d keep clean and you broke those promises time after time.”
“Speaking of promises, I ran into someone else you guys know recently.” Snake walked over to the door and closed it, leaning a beefy shoulder against the wood as if he expected someone to try to forcibly shove him out.
No one moved.
Jazz figured the guys were as shell-shocked as she was. This was just supposed to be a relaxing night hanging out. She’d hoped to continue the good streak they were on, and now they had this sneering giant of a dude causing shit.
Nick pushed a hand through his hair, his frustration leaking through. “Yeah? Who?”
“Not sure you know her, Nicky boy, but my man Gray over there sure does.”
Jazz went cold. She didn’t look at Gray but she didn’t need to. The rigidity of the arm around her shoulders told her everything she needed to know.
What was coming next wouldn’t be good.
“About five-six, long blonde hair, blue eyes. Fucking stacked—”
“Mind your manners, asshole.” Gray stepped in front of Jazz as if Snake had thrown an actual punch her way rather than a metaphorical one. She didn’t even think she was his intended target, just a casualty of his war with Nick, Deacon and Simon. Oblivion would always be their band, and he’d never stop seeing her and Gray as outsiders.
But at least before she’d had Gray on her side. Always. Right now, despite his solid frame blocking her view of Snake, she felt very much alone.
“Gray.” She nudged him back but he didn’t move. So she sidestepped him and slapped her best I’m fine smile on, the one that had served her well from facing her first foster mother at twelve to looking Mrs. Duffy in the eye at sixteen after her oldest son had tried to rape her.
She would never break in front of anyone.
