All too soon, he pulled back and released her. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. A painful lump formed in her throat. Why did he have to push things this far? Why couldn’t he leave things alone?
“I ache with wanting you,” he said in a raw whisper.
Her guts twisted in agony. The situation was racing away, out of control like a runaway train, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she’d wanted was to prevent this from happening. And now, she was living her own nightmare. His confession trapped her between reason and passion. Reason never failed her. Passion never lasted. The answer stared her down.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t have any feelings for me, and I’ll walk away.” The muscle ticking in his jaw said otherwise. “We’ll go back to being friends.”
“I don’t want this,” she said. Nothing could be further from the truth. Once the words came out of her mouth, reality settled down on her like an oppressive weight. This was huge. Her heart swelled until her ribs ached and tears stung behind her lids.
He recoiled like she’d struck him. Hurt flashed through his eyes, and it shredded her soul to see it.
“I want to be friends. Friends last forever.”
“Right.”
The distance between them increased as he backed away from her. He wasn’t even gone, and she already felt the loss of him. It took all of her self-control to keep from flinging herself at him and begging for forgiveness. Instead, she retrieved her courage and looked him straight in the eyes. His ego might be bruised tonight, but ten years from now, he’d thank her for being the sensible one.
“You’ll see I’m right,” she said, forcing a tight smile. “When you’re hanging out with your wife and kids in the suburbs someday and I’m the crazy old maid who comes to visit, we’ll both laugh about this.”
He snorted and shook his head, avoiding her eyes. She wanted desperately to see into them, to reassure herself the two of them were alright, but he turned and headed toward the front door. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Luke, wait. You don’t have to go.” The expression on his face when he turned to look at her brought a fresh sting of tears to her eyes, knowing she’d put it there. “Please tell me we haven’t fucked things up.”
He blew out a heavy sigh and shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. I just…I just can’t be around you right now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, though. Right?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice rough.
The door slammed behind him and between them. She was buried deep beneath the covers of her bed before the tears returned.
The ache in Luke’s chest threatened to submerge him like a rogue wave, but he knew if he gave into it, he’d drown. From the very start, he’d realized things could end up this way, but he’d been willing to take the risk. Once rejection eased, anger swept in to replace it. He was angry with her for being stubborn and shortsighted. Most of all, he was angry with himself for overestimating her feelings for him. How could he be so incredibly stupid? Their friendship was at risk, and he had no one to blame but himself.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. They would be alright. He’d make sure of it. But between now and then, he needed to find a way to ease the sting. Felony Bar was still open. He could drop in and drink himself into oblivion, but he quickly rejected the idea. Sitting around with Jack and Ally, watching their romantic bliss unfold, was more than his wounded heart could bear.
He was halfway home when he spied a new text on his cell from Elijah Crowe. The others had gone unanswered, but this one came at just the right time. He pulled the car to the curb and tapped on the message.
Dude. I’m in town. Come see me.
Those three little words held a million different meanings. Come see me. He stared at the phone and drew in a few breaths as he debated his options. A smart man would take his wounded ass home, drink a few beers, and get up tomorrow with a better outlook. Or a hangover, depending on how low he sank between now and then. Anything sounded better than sitting alone in his apartment.
The stoplight at the next intersection changed colors three times before he made his decision.
CHAPTER 10
THE BLACK stretch-limousine glided away from the curb in front of Tasha’s apartment. Luke slid down the long seat to make a place for her. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the pool. His grin lit up the darkness. Happiness surged through her.
“You look good enough to eat,” he said. The blatant approval in his eyes sent heat into her cheeks.
In honor of the night, she’d worn her favorite black sequined mini-skirt and an asymmetrical white halter top with a black-and-white print of Marilyn Monroe’s face splashed across the front. Thigh-high fishnets and black boots with four-inch heels and pointed toes completed the look. It was conservative compared to her usual eclectic style but still sexy.
“Thanks. So do you,” she said. He looked delectable in a blue Henley shirt. The short sleeves showed off the veins on his biceps and forearms, the favorite parts of his body. How had he managed to grow better looking in only a week? Was it even possible? Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“You changed your hair.” Luke tugged on a loose tendril of hair spiraling from behind her ear. At his touch, her body thrummed with sexual chemistry. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” On impulse, she’d changed her pink locks to platinum, a two-hour process, but well worth Luke’s words of praise.
The week without him had been painful. A dozen times a day, she’d reached for the phone to share a funny thought or incident but stopped herself. The distance between them had been her idea, and she’d vowed to honor it. He’d reach out to her when he was ready.
With each passing day, a new butterfly had unfurled in her belly, knowing they’d be together for the concert. She’d found herself thinking about what to wear and what they would talk about. Now, sitting across from him, the words tangled on her tongue in an uncharacteristic bout of shyness.
Their eyes remained locked. The walls of her throat tightened. His eyes were so deep and dark she might fall into them if she leaned forward too far. An ache began growing between her legs. Someone cleared his throat, reminding her they weren’t alone.
“When are you going to tell me what’s going on? I know you’re cooking up something. I can smell it.” Ally addressed the group at large, green eyes narrowed in speculation at Jack. He studied Ally with somber eyes, all smoldering bad-boy intensity laced with self-deprecating humor. “You know I hate surprises, Jack.”
“You’re going to love this one. Quit your bitching,” Karly said, her tone full of loving humor for her best friend. “Trust me when I say your boyfriend is awesome.” Randy cleared his throat. “You’re awesome too, baby,” she said and quickly patted his leg. “The best.”
“Great. Everyone knows but me?” An exasperated sigh ruffled the silky blond hair over Ally’s brow.
“Don’t look at me,” Tasha said. “I have no idea.” If something was brewing, no one had bothered to clue her in.
Ally crossed her arms and sat back against the plush leather seat. Her cool frown was the perfect foil for Jack’s steaming hotness.
“Patience.” Jack patted her leg, a smile curling his mouth. “We need to stop and pick up Luke’s date, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Luke’s date? It took all of Tasha’s control to keep her broad smile from slipping. Two words sent her fantastic evening into the toilet. She cast a covert glance at him. One of his eyebrows lifted. She winked at him, determined to keep up the charade of indifference, no matter the personal cost.
“Where’s your date?” Luke asked Tasha. “I thought you’d bring someone.”
“No,” she said.
His friendly, curious tone sent a dagger into her heart. He’d said he wanted more than friendship. I ache with wanting you. Had she imagined those words? They’d swirled in her head for days.
She’d agonized over their meaning, thinking she’d hurt him, yet it hadn’t been a week, and he was already dating someone else.
Why was she acting like a schizophrenic mess? One minute, she pushed him away and the next, her guts ached because he was fine and moving on. She wanted this. This was her decision.
Get over it, Gretzky.
“I thought you’d bring Heath. You guys have been going out for a couple of years now,” Karly interjected. “Is there a romance budding?”
“It’s not like that,” Tasha replied. A loose thread on the hem of her skirt provided a welcome distraction from Luke’s burning stare.
“Tasha doesn’t do relationships.” The toe of his shoe nudged her foot. “Right?”
The edge to his voice sent a stone of regret plummeting into her gut. Leave it to Luke to throw her own words back at her. She did this. She’d pushed him away. She’d told him to take Sherry to the concert. Now, she’d have to spend the night witnessing their date. Karma was a stone-cold bitch.
The limo stopped. Luke exited the car to collect Sherry. Tasha remained in the car and tried to pretend she didn’t care. Witty banter flew between the other couples, but she didn’t hear a word of it. All her attention focused on the car door, an unpleasant knot in her stomach.
“Hey, everyone.”
“Hi, Sherry,” the group responded in unison.
Luke climbed into the car behind Sherry. Her brown hair floated over her shoulders, framing a pretty face with a sunny smile. His hand rested on the small of her back as he guided her to a seat. The knot in Tasha’s stomach tightened. The hem of Sherry’s sundress swirled around slender legs, a sharp contrast to Tasha’s tight, brazen outfit. She wore little makeup, just a touch of blush and lip-gloss, highlighting a peaches-and-cream complexion. Next to her wholesomeness, Tasha felt cartoonish and jaded. Uncomfortable in her own skin. When had that happened? She’d always flaunted her individuality, worn her eccentricity like a shield, and now, sitting next to his sweet-faced date, she questioned it all.
She swallowed a grimace and forced a friendly expression. After all, it wasn’t Sherry’s fault. If only she wasn’t so damn nice, it would be easier to hate her. With a heavy sigh, Tasha settled back in the seat and focused on the passing scenery. This was what she wanted, the way she insisted things had to be.
Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted it anymore.
CHAPTER 11
NOT ONLY had Jack procured front-row seats, they were center stage, so close Tasha could touch Tristan, the lead singer, if she wanted. The performance was slick and choreographed. She knew the words to every song and sang them at the top of her lungs, swaying with the beat. For a little while, the music helped her to forget Luke and Sherry, standing near her elbow.
“Elijah, I love you!” screamed the girl beside Tasha, echoing what seemed to be the general consensus of every single female in the stadium. It was hard to look anywhere else. Tristan was a golden sun god, but Elijah sat behind his drum kit like a king on his throne. With muscular arms flailing, sweat flying, and his rugged drumbeats driving the music, Elijah captured most of Tasha’s attention. The cocky, deep-dimpled smile on his boyish face morphed into a scowl as the songs grew heavier and faster. His bare chest heaved with exertion. At the end of his drum solo, he pointed his drumstick at Tasha and flashed a mega-watt grin, sending Karly into ecstatic swoons.
“Did you see that?” Karly grabbed Tasha’s arm. “He pointed at you.”
“He did not,” Tasha said, but her heart missed a beat. In an arena full of thousands of fans, the probability of being singled out seemed impossible. She had a better chance of being struck by lightning.
At the end of the next song, he slammed his drumstick onto the head of the snare drum and launched it into the crowd. A deafening roar of excitement shook the walls of the stadium. Accompanied by shouts of approval, he launched four more drumsticks into the sea of craziness behind her. The final time, he pointed at her again and said, “For you, Tattoo Girl,” before launching the stick at her with uncanny precision.
Her heart skipped another beat when he came out from behind the drums and sauntered to front stage, directly in front of her. Spotlights glinted on the gold hoops piercing his nipples. Her gaze traveled from the tips of his black-and-white Chuck Taylor’s up the long, lean length of his legs. Leather pants hung low enough on his hips to reveal the V of his obliques and looked as if they might slip lower with every step. She tried not to stare at the impressive bulge in front of her, but it was nearly impossible to look anywhere else.
“You all are some crazy motherfuckers,” Elijah said, arms spread wide in greeting. “Are you ready to slow things down a little?” The crowd screamed. He grinned down at Tasha and winked one of his electric blue eyes. “I want to dedicate this next song to my good buddy, Jack. He’s sitting down here in the front row.” Elijah pointed to Jack, and the crowd screamed again, completely bowled over by his charisma. “I met this guy back before Seven Drift existed, and he means a lot to me. When Jack told me he’d met the girl of his dreams and he wanted to plan something special for their anniversary, I said, ‘Hell yeah, man. I’m in.’”
Ally’s mouth dropped open in surprise as Elijah sauntered over to them and kneeled down on the edge of the stage. He pulled a small blue velvet box from his back pocket and handed it to Jack.
“No freaking way,” Karly said. She turned and gripped Tasha’s arm, nails digging into her skin. “Oh my God!”
Right there in front of thousands of people, Jack got down on one knee. He took Ally’s hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it. The spotlight pooled around them. Despite the thousands of people watching, he only had eyes for her.
“Baby, you are everything I ever wanted and more than I ever deserved,” he said in his rich voice. “My life started the day I met you, and I don’t want to live another day without you in it. So, if you’ll have me, I want to marry you.”
Speechless, Ally nodded her acceptance, and Jack slid the ring onto her finger.
Tears stung Tasha’s eyes. She chased them away with the back of her hand, unsettled by so many unexpected emotions. Ally had always rebelled against the idea of marriage. Her parents had divorced when she was young. Jack had suffered through a traumatic divorce with Chelsea. Tasha never expected to see either of them tie the knot. An overwhelming sense of loss and betrayal left her feeling empty until she saw the glow on Ally’s face and the pride and love in Jack’s eyes.
Stupid fuckers had her questioning her beliefs. Was it possible to be happy with one person? She wanted the best possible outcome for two of her favorite people. It felt like betrayal to consider the possibility of anything else.
“Now that, motherfuckers, is how you propose to your lady,” Elijah said. Applause rocked the stadium. He reached down to shake Jack’s hand then took a seat behind the impressive black grand piano at center stage. The brilliant arena lights dimmed until Elijah sat alone in a pool of yellow light. Butterflies of excitement hovered in Tasha’s stomach. Ally stood next to Jack, her oval face flushed with embarrassment and excitement, while Jack gazed down at her with an expression of total devotion. They fought and complained about each other, but they were so totally in love. The sight of it tightened Tasha’s throat. She’d never known that kind of love. They were lucky.
Her gaze flickered to Luke. He watched her, brow furrowed, almost in puzzlement. Immediate warmth heated her skin, and her pulse skittered. Her fingers curled with the impulse to reach for him. Memories of their kiss flashed through her mind. He took a step toward her then stopped and cast a glance at Sherry.
It was painful to have him close, yet unattainable. There was no one to blame for it but herself. She’d put him there. She cursed under her breath, turned her attention back to the stage and away from him.
“Ally, this is for you, from Jack,” Elijah called out as he started the introduction to their most famous song, a love ballad written by him. Emotion weighted every word, made
all the more sweet by Elijah’s smooth tenor voice and Jack’s proposal. The black arena sparkled like a clear night sky as the fans held up cell phone lights to show their appreciation. Overcome with feeling, she sought out Luke to anchor her, only to find Sherry pressed against his side, whispering in his ear, her eyes shining with adoration. The sight of Luke’s head bent over Sherry’s ripped through her heart like a knife. He was beautiful and perfect, and he wasn’t hers.
She took one last look at him, vowing to put her turmoil aside. When his lips brushed over Sherry’s in a chaste kiss, Tasha’s insides tangled into a knot. She knew how soft his lips felt and how he tasted like mint. It could’ve been her on his arm. His lips on hers.
She was beginning to think she’d made a terrible mistake.
CHAPTER 12
WHEN THE band took their final bow, the gang headed backstage. Tasha tried to ignore Luke by sliding in between Karly and Ally. Even though she couldn’t see him, she felt the weight of his stare on her backside as they followed a security guard through the bright hallway to the band’s dressing room.
Intent on making the best of a bad situation, she focused on the idea of sharing space with Seven Drift. It was a dream come true. She’d have a good time no matter what. Her happiness would never rest in the hands of a man. Even if the man was her best friend.
“And how, exactly, do you know Elijah Crowe?” Ally asked Jack as they waited for the band to appear.
He shrugged, pleased by the look of excitement on his fiancée’s face. “His parents lived next door to my mom. He used to play David’s clubs in Chicago and at Felony, before his band made it big. Back then he was just a skinny punk.”
Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 58
