Deep

by Kylie Scott

Music started up again and the room filled with the sounds of clapping and cheering. Mal's and Anne's mouths were melded together. I wanted that, what they had together, and without a doubt it would be worth waiting for. After spending seven years believing love had to be just so much bullshit, I couldn't give up on it again now. That was the truth. One day I'd find someone else who made me feel like Ben did.

  I just had to wait it out.

  Santa Elvis started beating out "Viva Las Vegas" while those assembled went wild. Everyone apart from me and Ben. Shit. I'd pretty much missed the entire ceremony. Thank goodness, Mal's dad appeared to be taping it. Worst sister ever. I went to start clapping, like everyone else, then remembered the posies of flowers still gripped tight in my hands. Whoops, better not.

  So many happy smiling faces--except for one. Oh great, my mom was here. From the other side of the room, her mouth wrinkled, brows drawn in tight. Seemed my initial lack of attention on the bride and groom hadn't escaped everyone's notice. Her gaze darted between me and Ben, her frown deepening. Might be best if I avoided dear mama for the rest of the night. Possibly the next decade too, just to be safe. The last thing I needed was for Jan to decide to start sticking her nose back into my life now.

  No, thank you.

  "Little sister," Mal cried, bearing down on me with arms wide open.

  He'd obviously finally set Anne down, because she was busy being tag-team squeezed by David and Ev. My new brother-in-law basically tackle-hugged me, picking me up around the waist and squeezing me crazytown tight. Breathing ... so passe.

  "This is going to be great. I always wanted a little sister," he said. "Older sisters are okay, I mean, don't get me wrong. But little sisters are way more fun, right?"

  I just kind of wheezed.

  "And you wait until you see what I got you for your birthday. Best. Present. Ever."

  "Dude, put her down before you fucking break her," said Ben with some urgency.

  "What?" Mal deposited me back on my feet. Thank god.

  I gave my sore ribs a rub, taking nice deep breaths. "There was a touch too much love in that hug."

  "Oops. Sorry, little sis."

  "All good." I grinned, still catching my breath. "Congratulations."

  "Yeah. Congrats, man," said Ben. They shook hands vigorously, followed by some shoulder slapping.

  "Thanks, dude."

  Without missing a beat, the drummer moved on to his next love hug victim. Which left me and Ben staring at each other again. Not awkward at all.

  "You look great, Lizzy."

  "You too." I couldn't meet his dark eyes any longer, so instead I studied his shoes. A nice safe target. The big black boots made for quite a dramatic contrast against the cream marble floor.

  He said nothing.

  And yeah, okay, I was done. "Have a nice night."

  "Liz, wait--"

  "Must mingle."

  His hand hooked my arm. "Wait. I want to talk to you."

  "I don't think that's a good idea." I pulled my elbow free.

  "Please."

  That one simple word did it, made me hesitate. Stupid soft me. "Okay. Maybe later."

  "Later."

  It was good to want things in life. Didn't mean you were necessarily going to get them. Already, the thought of hearing whatever he had to say brought anxiety rushing to the surface. Bridesmaids are busy people; I had shit to do. Ben Nicholson could just wait. Tonight wasn't about me or him or the lingering mess between us. Not even a little. There were about twenty-five or so people present, excluding Santa Elvis and the string quartet. Mal's family, his dad and sisters, husbands and kids. Mine and Anne's mom (henceforth known as She Who Must Be Avoided). The Stage Dive members and their partners, plus Lauren and Nate, of course. Lots of people to meet and greet and mingle up a storm with.

  But first I wanted to hug my sister. To hold her tight and know that good things happened to good people, and that she was every bit as happy as she'd always deserved to be.

  So that's what I did.

  *

  After I spent almost five hours chatting and being the best bridesmaid possible, the wedding reception finally began to wind down. Hand to god, I'd more than earned my night out on the town. I'd avoided both Ben and my mom by never standing still for long. My attempts to keep Mal's clutter of nephews and nieces under control went a long way toward helping.

  Mental note to never, ever have children. Working with them would be fine, but I wanted to be able to clock out at the end of the day, thank you very much. They might be cute, but they could also be total maniacs. I was pretty damn certain Mal would be getting hit up for the replacement of at least one of the fancy jacquard-covered chairs. I'd tried to get the pate finger art out, but with little luck. The perpetrator of that particular crime remained hidden under a hallway table.

  Couples were beginning to get overly amorous, what with the late hour, rich food, and expensive booze. As for me, I was ready to par-tay!

  "We're about to slip away," reported Anne, hooking my elbow with a hand. Her other arm was occupied resting around her husband's neck.

  "I guessed." I nodded. "The dude attached to the side of your head kind of gave it away."

  Mal didn't bother coming up for air. Instead, he kept right on nibbling at Anne's ear. But he did say something. Some muttered string of words I didn't have a hope in hell of understanding.

  "What did he say?" I asked.

  "He said we have to go consummate our marriage," said Anne.

  "Of course he did. Have fun with that."

  "We will."

  More incoherent mumbling from the guy attached to her ear.

  "I thought that was meant to be a surprise for when she got back?" replied Anne.

  Mal finally surfaced. "But it's just so cool. I am just so cool. I think she deserves to know this."

  "It's your present, it's up to you. Tell her if you like." Anne laughed.

  The smile Mal gave me was megawatt, blinding. "I got you a baby blue 1967 Mustang GT for your birthday."

  "You did?" I shrieked in glee.

  "Exactly. Aren't I just the best? Ohmigod I'm fucking amazing! My own mind is just blown by me. Put it there, little sis." He held up his hand for a high five.

  I slapped palms with him with much zest. "That's awesome, Mal!"

  "I know, right?"

  "Thank you so much."

  "It's nothing." A careless hand waved my gratitude away. "Sheesh."

  Only Anne seemed unenthused. "You got Liz a muscle car? You bought me a Prius."

  With pouty lips, Mal framed her face with his hands. "Because you're my Pumpkin Prius princess. Girls like you don't drive muscle cars."

  "Girls like me?"

  "Beautiful, clever, good girls with lots of respect for traffic lights and shit like that. Besides, you've got me. You don't need any more muscle in your life."

  I wouldn't say Anne looked appeased, exactly. But she did drop the subject after yet another lingering kiss.

  "What are you up to tonight?" she asked me eventually.

  "I thought I might go dancing or something," I said, rocking back on my heels in excitement. Vegas, here I come. "Put my legal ID to good use."

  Anne's grin faltered. "Right, yeah. Listen, Sam was thinking of going around to a couple of clubs too. You mind if he tags along?"

  Ruh-roh. "Sam the security man?"

  "Yeah." Her gaze wandered around the room for a moment, avoiding mine. "He won't get in the way, I promise. He's a really great guy and going out on your own in Vegas isn't the smartest idea. You don't mind do you? I promise he won't get in your way or anything."

  "No, I guess not."

  "Good." She visibly relaxed, leaning against Mal. "I think they took your stuff up to the penthouse suite already, by the way. You've got the key, right?"

  "Yep. All set."

  "And if you go anywhere on your own, don't get lost in the hotel. That place is huge."

  "I'll be fine. Go make merry with your husband." I smac
ked a light kiss on her cheek. "Congratulations. It was a wonderful night. You looked beautiful."

  "What 'bout me?" came from Mal.

  "Very pretty." I gave him a pat on the head. "Later!"

  I had a man to forget and a town to explore.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "What'd you say your name was again?"

  "Liz."

  "Lisa?"

  "Close enough." I gave the drunken blond a smile and took another sip of my margarita. He might be cute, but cute didn't make up for rampant stupidity or a blood alcohol level sky-high, such as he had to have. He gave me his version of a pantie-wetting grin and I had no doubt it worked when the dude was sober. Or when the object of his lustful affections was in the same state of inebriation.

  Sadly, my two-and-a-half-margarita happy buzz didn't even begin to qualify.

  We'd been dancing for an hour or so, having fun. There'd been no real touching or grinding or anything to lead him on.

  Because I knew limits, didn't I? Yes I did.

  The hotel had a large selection of bars and nightclubs. Not to mention the plethora of nearby ones. We'd started at a place across the road before heading back closer to home. Good music, lots of dancing, and a couple of drinks. My fun had been found, my hair let down.

  Anyway, a pity he had to go and wreck it now by trying to score. Over my shoulder, Sam the security man (who most definitely didn't dance) kept the same position he had for the past three hours, holding up the bar with a glass of whiskey in hand. He'd wanted to check out a couple of clubs, my ass. The man had been sicced onto me for certain. For not the first time tonight, he narrowed his eyes at my dance partner and shook his head in disbelief. I just smiled back at him. Tonight wasn't about serious. It was about laughing, dancing, having a few drinks, and celebrating being young and single.

  My drunken companion slipped an arm around my waist, licking his lips. "So, Lila."

  "Yeah, Mike?"

  A frown. "Mark. My name's Mark."

  "Oh, gosh, sorry, Mark. My bad."

  "No worries, babe." A hazy grin slipped across his face once more as he leaned forward, moving in for the kill.

  I think not.

  I turned my face away and took a hasty side step, escaping his attempt at any mouth-on-mouth behavior. Once my last half of salty, tequila-infused heaven on ice was finished, I was out of there. Sam and I could find somewhere else to hang. If it wasn't guaranteed to give me a brain freeze I'd have just downed it. "Well, this has been great."

  "Party's just starting," he slurred.

  In what was no doubt planned to be a smooth move, the douche stumbled into me, knocking my back into the bar. Worse yet, my god damn drink spilled all over the floor. Those things were not cheap, and I sure as hell hadn't been willing to let Mark buy me any. He'd started getting enough ideas as it was. Idiot.

  "Shit." I shoved at the drunken twit's chest, trying to get him off of me. "Move it."

  Like my words had suddenly grown superpowers, the dickhead flew backward into the crowd, landing sprawled on his ass several yards away. Whoa. How about that. I gazed in slack-jawed surprise. Then, into the wide-open space in front of me stepped Ben.

  Crap.

  "Hey," I said, setting my now empty glass on the bar. "Hi."

  His forehead was furrowed, his mouth a severely straight, unimpressed line. Goodness, did he look angry. Between the beard and the expression on his face, he looked downright barbaric. He might as well be dressed in furs and carrying a spear, presenting me with the boar he'd caught for dinner. Ah, good old-fashioned Stone Age romance.

  "How you doing?" I asked.

  Still nothing from him.

  "Did you want something to drink? I was just about to move on to another club, but if you'd like to hang here for a while, that's fine with me."

  He set a hand on the bar either side of me, fencing me in. Huh.

  "Having a good night?" I asked.

  "Not really. Been looking for you."

  "That's sweet. But you didn't need to do that."

  "You knew I wanted to talk to you."

  "Yes, I knew."

  "You said we'd talk later."

  "I know. But here's the thing: maybe I didn't want to talk to you after all, Ben. Maybe I just want to forget what happened and move on with my life."

  Behind him, two of the bar's bulky security guys ever so gently escorted my former drunken dance partner from the premises.

  "Bye, Mike." I finger waved.

  "And what the fuck were you doing with that guy?" he growled.

  "Dancing, until he got a wee bit too inebriated. My safety isn't the issue here. I have my friend Sam with me, should I run into any trouble." I nodded to where the man stood by the bar.

  If anything, his presence just seemed to make Ben crankier. "Then why wasn't he doing something about that idiot crawling all over you?"

  "Probably because he knew I had it covered."

  He cocked his head. "You had it covered?"

  "Yep."

  "Funny, sweetheart. Cause I could have sworn I walked in here to find some drunken asshole trying to maul you." The man, he fumed, his cheeks turning red and eyes blazing. It was kind of impressive.

  "I realize it looked bad, but I had it under control."

  "You did, huh?" His laughter, it didn't really sound the smallest bit amused. "Christ. You're done here."

  "Ah, no. I'm actually not. Now see, this is where we have a problem." I folded my arms. Then unfolded them because like fuck I'd look defensive. He was the one in the wrong, not me. "You're not prepared to take me, or my feelings, seriously. What you want is to hide away in Mr. Too Cool for Commitment land and just play with my affections when it suits you. Okay, I've accepted that. But none of that means it's okay for you to come in here and act like you're the boss of me. None of it."

  "That so?" he asked, leaning down so that we were almost nose to nose.

  "That's so, baby." I play-punched him in the shoulder, which it should be noted, I barely came up to. Okay, so maybe the alcohol on a mostly empty stomach had made me slightly/lots braver/sillier. "So why don't you take your little caveman jealous tantrum bullshit somewhere else. See, I do this funny thing I like to refer to as whatever the fuck I want. Understand?"

  He just stared.

  "And as pretty as you are with your beard and your muscles, you are too damn tricky and ... complicated and shit for me."

  "I am?"

  "Yes, you are. Are you finally seeing my point here?"

  "You bet."

  "Excellent. So take your hotness elsewhere, kind sir. I want no part of it!" Huh. I had so told him. Drunken bravado was the best.

  He nodded once, not so much at my words but as if he'd decided something. It didn't take me long to find out what. The man grabbed my hips tight and bent, setting his shoulder to my middle.

  "Don't--"

  And up I went. Then down went the front half of me. Down, over his shoulder in a fireman's hold.

  "Ben, put me down."

  His arm went around my knees, a hand holding onto the back of one thigh. Almost at a not cool height. Though not a single little damn thing about this actually was cool. Then the ground started moving beneath us.

  "Ben!"

  He didn't even slow down.

  "I take it you're finished for the night, Miss Rollins," asked Sam.

  "Make him put me down," I screeched.

  "I'm afraid I can't interfere. You see, Mr. Nicholson also contributes to my wages."

  "You have to be kidding me."

  "Puts me in kind of a difficult situation. You understand."

  I had nothing.

  "To be fair, he texted me asking where you were, hours ago," said Sam. "I didn't tell him."

  "Oh yeah, you're a peach."

  Sam grinned. The jerk.

  "I've got this," grumbled the prehistoric asshole carrying me.

  "Right," said the incredibly useless security man. "Might go lose some money on a card game, then. Nigh
t-night."

  Ben just grunted.

  So I smacked him on the ass. "You're being absolutely ridiculous. Put me down."

  "Nope."

  "Do you have any idea how insane this must look?"

  "Don't care."

  "I do. God, Ben. You drive me nuts."

  Another grunt. How original.

  My laughter came out slightly too high-pitched, too crazy. What a night.

  So tempting to lose my shit, but no. Conflict resolution. I was a professional to the last. "Ben, why don't you put me down and we can talk about whatever you want over a drink. You've obviously got my attention now."

  "I don't think so."

  "Look, I'm sorry I didn't take your request to talk seriously before. Let me make it up to you."

  He ignored me.

  Pity those around us didn't. They giggled and pointed and carried on like we were a damn comedy act. But did anyone think to try and help me? No.

  People.

  "I'm trying to be reasonable here!"

  "I know."

  "Which is pretty fucking mature of me, given I'm upside down talking to your ass, Ben!" I growled in frustration, slapping at his rear one more time just for fun. Had ever a man been born so bone of head and firm of butt? I think not.

  "Keep that up, I'm going to start giving it back to you," he warned. "And my hands are a hell of a lot bigger than yours, Liz."

  "You are such an asshole."

  "You know, you act all cute, but you've got a mouth on you when you get riled up."

  "Bite me."

  "It's late, Lizzy. Time for bad girls to go to bed," he said.

  "Aw, Ben. If you were having trouble scoring, you should have just said so. We could have worked something out."

  His laughter was low-down and dirty. "That's real accommodating of you, sweetheart."

  "No worries. I think it's a damn shame a big strong hairy rock star such as yourself has to take to kidnapping women out of bars to get any."

  Cool air hit the back of my thighs as the skirt of my dress was raised. Teeth grazed over my soft skin in warning, his breath coming dangerously close to warming pertinent areas. Or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, time to freak right out.

  "Don't you fucking dare," I screeched, wriggling around.

  Arms tightened around me and the sharp teeth were replaced with his lips. "Stop squirming."

  "Stop being such a bastard and put me down."

  "You said to bite you." The idiot tittered.

  Whatever. Simple people are often easily amused.

  Hell I was a long way up. It was a little scary. Down a fancy hallway we ventured, the sound of slot machines and the faint stink of cigarettes indicating the massive gaming room had to be somewhere near. Next, a glossy elevator with an ad for some show, playing on repeat. The foolish man had left his wallet sitting in his back pocket. At last, some entertainment. Why not, since I was along for the ride?