Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  I thought about Brant—about how good he made me feel. About how I didn’t have this trepidation with him. Spending time with him, being with him, it was easy. Kieran, even if he did feel the same way about me, not so much. He was a more complicated creature.

  He shifted in his sleep, his hand falling dangerously close to my breast.

  I wanted him to touch me, but I wanted him to do it because he wanted to, not because he was half asleep and I was a warm body. I turned on my side and his hand moved to my ass.

  Of course it did.

  I looked down at his face. His black lashes dusted his cheeks and a rebellious lock of hair curled down over his forehead. He was as beautiful as any work of art in the Nelson-Atkins. It was almost painful to look at him.

  He still wasn’t Finn McCool. He was Kieran.

  Kieran who buried his face in my cleavage. I was almost worried he was going to smother himself, but I wouldn’t deny it was nice having him there.

  He’d said he knew I was a woman—meaning he wasn’t unaware of my assets.

  A stray seed of hope bloomed. Maybe I could have him after all, but what would that mean for our friendship? What if it didn’t work out?

  And what about Brant?

  This felt too right to worry about that.

  Until I saw April’s panties on the floor. Her tiny, lacy, delicate, pink panties that she’d worn for her night with Finn Fucking McCool.

  Bile churned and I hated everything. I hated the way I’d acted, the thoughts in my head, my emotions—I felt like a total fucking psycho.

  I suddenly couldn’t stand for Kieran to touch me. He’d been touching someone else, fucking someone else, but he came to me to feel safe? But I wasn’t safe at all.

  I untangled myself slowly, easing away from him. Part of me wanted him to wake up, to notice I was leaving, but he didn’t. He scrounged in the bed and was still. As if I’d never been there.

  I poured a glass of wine, grabbed my Kindle and ran a hot bath. Sinking into the heat, I let the bubbles and wine leach away my stress and I lost myself in a Virginia Nelson novel. After I’d finished it, I put my Kindle to the side and ran some more hot water.

  She was my go-to read for happily ever after. I kind of wished she’d write my life story because then I’d know that after all of this bullshit, that I’d end up exactly where I was supposed to be with exactly who I was supposed to be with.

  And I definitely had my doubts.

  Why couldn’t I be in love with Brant? That would make things so much easier.

  I suppose I hadn’t even given myself or him a chance. Not really. I was pining over Kieran, which was an absolute waste of time.

  All of this was. I should get my head straight and work on Chubbalicious. The rest of this could wait. I still needed to finish the alterations for Hollie’s dresses and I only had a week.

  My phone rang. It was April. I didn’t want to answer it. I’d just fixed my brain to where it was in a workable place, but I knew she’d keep calling until I answered. I considered turning it off, but then I’d wonder what she wanted, or when she was going to show up because I hadn’t answered.

  “What are you doing?”

  “In the bath.”

  “Come over.”

  “I can’t. I’ve got to finish these alterations.”

  “From the bath?” she asked.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Obviously not. I was taking a break with some wine, some Virginia and some bubbles.”

  “Rosa is still at Gavin’s. I think they really hit it off. We need to plot to find someone for Hollie.”

  “Well, I was going to pair her with Austin for the shoot. She likes the cowboys.”

  “That’s brilliant.” She was silent for a long moment. “So, I was a bitch earlier.”

  “Me too, maybe just a little.” I didn’t want to fight with her. I loved her. And that was as close to an apology as either of us would get.

  But did I love her more than Kieran? No. I didn’t.

  “After Kieran leaves tonight, do you think you could grab my panties? I forgot them.”

  I’d seen dozens of girls use that as an excuse to come back over in hopes it would lead to something more. It was interesting that she asked me to get them for her. “Do we need to be that close?”

  “Yes. I know that’s a girl-that-won’t-go-home technique. I really didn’t do it on purpose. I just didn’t want to put them back on after…well. Yeah.”

  “So now you’re asking me to pick up your crispy panties?” I snorted.

  “You can use a baggie. It won’t kill you.”

  “It might, it just might.” I remembered how the sight of them turned my stomach.

  “Please? I wouldn’t bother if they were cheap, but those are real silk. I got them in Paris on my senior trip.”

  “Fine.” I hated the word as soon as it was out of my mouth.

  “You’re the best.” She sighed. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted to come over and get them myself.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because I told Kieran I was different, and I am.”

  “I’ve got to go. My bathwater is getting cold.”

  “You’re still not coming over later?” she prodded.

  “No.”

  “I guess I’ll have to go to The Rooster by myself tonight.”

  “Why are you going back?” A sinking feeling in my gut told me I’d be going too.

  “Because I want to prove to him that I can handle his job. That I won’t freak out on any girl who tries to put her hand in his jock. You should come too, I mean, if you and Brant are dating.”

  “We’re not.”

  “What are you doing? Just fucking?”

  It sounded bad the way she said it—dripping with derision. I wouldn’t call it “just fucking”. There was more to it than that and I suddenly felt protective of what Brant and I had. It wasn’t a relationship, per se, but it wasn’t some sordid thing either. And I didn’t want to share the details of that with her.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to show up at The Rooster and crawl up his ass.” That would set a bad precedent anyway. He had a paper to write, we’d agreed to see each other next week, I didn’t want to spend every minute with him. Neither did I want to deal with my feelings for Kieran tonight.

  Going to the club would just make me feel bad about myself and reiterate all the doubts in my head on some demon loop from hell that I couldn’t unhear. I had better things to do.

  “I don’t think he’d see it that way.”

  “Why isn’t Hollie going with you?” I didn’t know why I tried to argue. I knew I was going.

  “She’s got a thing with her sister. Come on, I don’t want to go by myself.”

  “Why not? If this is all well and good, why not go by yourself?”

  “Because I think I lied. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

  Her confession did me in. I wanted to say no, I wanted to say that was her tough luck and to deal with it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. “Fine.” I hated that word. “Pick me up at ten.”

  “You’re the best, Claire. I love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. See you later.” I hung up before she could respond.

  Why in the name of all that was holy did I allow myself to get talked into these things?

  6

  I waited for Kieran to leave before I emerged from my room.

  April’s panties were on the counter.

  That was completely unsanitary and made me wonder what other things he’d been putting on the counter.

  As well as wondering if he’d heard my conversation with her. Not that it mattered.

  Okay, that was a lie. He’d have to have been standing outside the bathroom door to hear me and that mattered quite a bit, but I couldn’t think—i.e. obsess—about that now.

  I decided to wear crop pants, flats and a cute bowling shirt. It had a ’57 cherry red Chevy on it and it made my boobs look amazing. Of course, I
always thought they looked amazing. It was hard to go wrong with boobs.

  The bell rang promptly at ten.

  A sick feeling settled in my gut. This was such a bad idea. Bad. Bad. Bad.

  I opened the door and April was dressed to kill. She was wearing a tiny leather miniskirt that I could have used for a garter, a filmy see-through club halter, and those designer heels with the red sole.

  “Wow.”

  “Do you think he’ll like it?”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “You look great, too. I love that shirt on you.” April smiled.

  I knew she was trying to be nice, but I didn’t want her to be nice.

  “Ready?” I didn’t invite her in.

  “Um, are those my panties on your counter?” She pursed her lips.

  “Yeah. Kieran left them there.”

  “I see.” Her expression was unreadable. “Let me just grab them and save you the baggie.”

  “Did you tell him you were coming tonight?”

  “Of course. I told him and Brant you were coming too.”

  “We’re not sitting by the stage. We’re not going to be those girls.”

  She looked at me after she’d stuffed her panties in her purse. “What do you mean?”

  “You know. The ones that want to put their stamp on the guys and keep other girls from getting their fantasy. But that’s how they make their money.”

  “It’s not even like that. I want him to see me, to know I’m there.”

  “He will. Especially since you told him you’re coming. I think going tonight is a bad idea anyway.” The word bad kept flashing with neon blinkers behind my eyes—a kind of warning I would regret ignoring.

  “How else will I be able to prove to him I can handle his job?”

  “Go next week. This is too soon. It’s like calling the day you get his phone number. It’s desperate.”

  “You’re weird, you know that, right?” April eyed me. “Why do you care so much about what other people think?”

  It occurred to me that women like April didn’t have the same rules as the rest of us. She was so used to getting who and what she wanted, it would never enter her brain that there were rules to the hunt.

  I shrugged. “Hey, I just live with the man.”

  “Did he say anything about me?”

  Aside from the part where he’d stop seeing you if I wanted him to? “No. We did our usual Saturday thing. We watched American Horror Story and took a nap.”

  “Together?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah, together. What about it?”

  She bit her lip. “Why haven’t you guys fucked? You have all the hallmarks of a relationship. You do everything together.” I heard what sounded like defeat in her tone.

  “Because we’re just friends.” The words tasted like poison, both because what had happened this afternoon had been something different and I was ready to throw away our honest friendship because I was suddenly obsessed with his dick.

  And more than that, I realized. I was obsessed with the idea that a guy like him could want a girl like me.

  Someone with a perfect body could be aroused by someone with an imperfect body. I wanted to prove it to myself, and everyone else.

  “So says you until you fall into bed. You can’t say you’re not attracted to him. I mean, no sane, heterosexual woman could not want to ride Kieran Holt like a mechanical bull.”

  “I have never denied he’s hot.” She was interrogating me and I was about to defend our relationship to her like her opinion had any bearing on the matter. So I clamped my mouth closed.

  “You didn’t say you don’t want to sleep with him,” she whispered.

  My blood was lava coursing through my veins. Why should I deny anything? What business was it of hers? “I already slept with him. This afternoon. In his bed. We napped.” I returned her hard appraisal. “And I don’t think it’s his job that you need to prove that you can handle. I think it’s me.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d said that. But I’d already jumped off the cliff, there was no climbing back up to the ledge.

  “I think you’re right. As long as you’re in the picture, no woman has a chance to really be with Kieran. You’re always there. Your friendship, your intimacies…no one can compete with that. He uses you like a shield so he can hide from any real connection.”

  I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Just a little bit. She sounded like a bad Cosmo article about unavailable men. “Really? So is this the part where you’re convinced that he loves you, but he’s just too broken to see it?” I shook my head. “You have to take him the way he is, the same as he has to take you. Don’t make excuses for what he does. The way you are together right now? That’s the best it’s ever going to be.”

  “You’re wrong. He’ll let me in when he sees he can trust me.”

  “Let you in? Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I hated it when people did that. They’d make every excuse in the world for why someone didn’t call, or they didn’t connect, or whatever. It had to be because “he’s emotionally unavailable.” It could never just be because the guy wasn’t interested. It was pathetic.

  “You know, you’re supposed to be his best friend and you act like you don’t know him at all.”

  My mouth opened before I could stop myself. “And you think just because he put his cock in your pussy that you know everything about him. Newsflash: that’s just fucking. He didn’t make love to you, you didn’t have some deeper connection. You asked for the Finn McCool experience, and you got it. That wasn’t Kieran. Breakfast the next day? That was Kieran. And you know what’s worse? You asked for it like a present. Like something you can buy. And guess what else? It was. Finn McCool is for sale, Kieran isn’t.”

  The look in her eyes as something cracked inside of her punched me in the gut. April was my friend. I wasn’t supposed to want to hurt her, and I did. I knew my barbs would hit home and I sharpened them anyway. I sliced and cut because I could. That wasn’t me. Or at least I didn’t want it to be.

  “I didn’t know any other way to get his attention,” she murmured. “He didn’t chase me like the other guys do.”

  I hugged her. “Look, you can fix this.”

  Why was I trying to help her now? I didn’t want to help her, I didn’t want them to be together.

  But I did want Kieran to be happy.

  My selfish heart said that I could make him happy, but I had to take my own advice. If a man wants you, he’ll find a way to tell you. And Kieran, in all the years we’d roomed together, had plenty of opportunity to tell me. It wasn’t me he’d taken to bed, it was April.

  “How?” she asked.

  “First, we’ll go tonight and we’ll sit in the back. He’ll know we’re there, but we’re not going to buy any dances or try to get his attention in any way. But you can’t buy any dances from any of the other guys either. Then you’ll tell him you need a ride back to the house because we’re going to leave your car here. We’ll take a cab.”

  “How are you going to get home?”

  “I’ll be fine. One of the guys can bring me home.” Probably Brant. Or maybe I’d just spend the night on the roof of The Rooster watching the stars and trying not to think about Kieran and April.

  She sucked in a deep breath. “I… thank you.” April hugged me. “I didn’t know I’d feel this way.”

  Yeah, me either. Instead of answering, I called a cab.

  When we got to the club, I put on my party face. I didn’t want anyone asking me what was wrong, so it was time to be that girl. The one who was always fun, who always had a slick remark, and who drank like a sailor.

  Liquor was the best lube for unwanted social interaction.

  We chose a table in the back as I’d suggested and Austin sat down at our table almost immediately. He was, of course, ripped like Adonis. He was wearing a pair of low-slung jeans with a giant belt buckle and nothing else.

  He was the one I’d babysat his daughter.

  “Hey, honey. D
idn’t expect you guys back tonight,” he said.

  “This is as good a place to drink as any,” April replied. “Speaking of, I’m going to get some drinks. Rum for you, Claire?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  When she was gone, Austin leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Couldn’t get enough of Finn McCool, could she?”

  I shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  “I should probably mind my own business, but she knows girls come back here all the time with the same idea she’s got.”

  “She does. But we should both mind our own business.” I grinned.

  “I meant to ask, this photo shoot we’re doing. Can I have copies of all my pics for my portfolio?”

  “Oh, of course. And after Chubbalicious is making some money, I’ll be able to pay you.”

  “No need. Happy to help.” He winked at me. “Although, if you wanted to give me a dollar, I wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lip turned up in a smirk as he stood and angled that shiny belt buckle close to my face.

  This wasn’t usual fare for me. On the nights we came to the club, I didn’t usually get dances or put dollars in anyone’s jock. I was always Kieran’s guest and I hung out in the back sipping my drink and chatting with the girls.

  But fuck it, right? That’s what they were here for. Maybe all that time I’d spent trying to be different and set apart, I’d been an asshole? I’d been enjoying the scenery without tipping. That was kind of a douche move.

  “I guess I owe you one.” I pulled a dollar out of my purse and tucked it in the waist of those deliciously worn jeans, my fingers grazing over his oblique.

  “Best buck of the night.” He winked again.

  “Flirt.”

  “Tease,” he tossed back.

  “I can’t help myself.” My tone implied even if I could, I wouldn’t.

  “Nor should you.” He squeezed my shoulder before migrating to another table.

  April shoved two shots of rum under my nose. “Did I see what I think I saw? Did you… tip?”

  I shrugged. “I figured it was time.” It grossed me out to realize that I hadn’t been tipping not because I thought I was different, but because I didn’t want to be that sad, fat girl who had to come to a strip club to put her hands on a man.