eyond Desire Collection

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eyond Desire Collection Page 115

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al


  I snort. Jax’s mom still thinks her kids are eight. They get pajamas and board games just as they had every year since she was five. “What time is the wakeup call?”

  “Seven-fucking-thirty. You’re so lucky your family does Christmas Eve and skips the morning torture ritual.”

  “Yeah.” We used to do Christmas morning. That is until I’d just stopped going the year E died. That Christmas I’d stayed in bed and pretended the day didn’t exist. For some reason, after that, Mom stopped making a big deal about holidays. She said as long as we were together on a regular basis that’s all she cared about. The cold chill of loss hit me again. “Do you mind company?”

  “Not if the company is you.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Jax is waiting for me in her doorway when I pull up in front of her house. “What’s going on?” she asks when I reach her side.

  Still soaked from standing in the rain with Lucy, I shiver.

  “Jesus,” she whispers. “Come on. Get inside.”

  She pushes me into the bathroom and hands me a dry towel. “I don’t have any clothes that will fit you. Just strip and I’ll throw yours in Mom’s dryer. You can wrap yourself in a blanket or whatever while they dry.”

  Too cold and wet to care, I do as I’m told and wrap the bath sheet around my hips. I emerge with my wet clothes and hand them to her.

  She runs them downstairs to the dryer she shares with her parents, and when she returns, she rakes her gaze down my body. “Damn. No wonder Lucy keeps going back for more.”

  “Not tonight,” I say almost to myself.

  “Well sure. Isn’t she at her mom’s?”

  “No.” I run a hand through my damp hair. “She’s home… with Cadan.”

  Jax straightens. “What? No. She can’t be. I thought he finally left.” Her eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

  I nod and sit on her couch, wrapping a blanket around me. “Yep. Positive. I just came from there.”

  “Oh, damn.” Jax sits next to me, staring straight ahead, curling a lock of her blond hair with her fingers. Then she turns her sympathetic eyes on me. “You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?”

  I close my eyes, not wanting to answer. Of course I have. But I don’t want to admit it even to myself, much less Lucy’s best friend. “Does it matter? Her mate is back. Nothing I can do.”

  She doesn’t deny it. After a minute, she leans over and hugs me. The way a sister would hug a little brother, even though I’m about a foot taller than she is. “What can I do to help?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I mostly came over so I didn’t have to explain to Lillian why I was home.”

  She straightens. “You’ve moved back to your house?”

  I nod. “It would appear so.”

  “It’s about time.” She jumps to her feet. “Since you’re staying over, I think it’s time to drink. A lot.” In three steps she’s in her kitchen with her liquor cabinet open. “What’s your poison?”

  “Whiskey?” I say hopefully.

  “Of course.” She fills two lowball glasses half-full and returns to the couch, the bottle dangling from her fingers. “I don’t know about you, but I won’t be happy until I can’t feel my lips.”

  I raise an eyebrow in her direction. “Rough day?”

  “Not as bad as yours, but bad enough. Remind me to fill you in later.” She raises her glass to mine. I follow suit, clinking my crystal against hers.

  “To friends who stock plenty of whiskey,” I say.

  She laughs and scans her gaze over my body once more. The blanket has fallen, and I’m once again only wearing the towel. “To hot half-naked friends who drink said whiskey.”

  I nod, appreciating the ego boost more than I care to admit, and then throw the drink back with one gulp.

  “More?” She holds the bottle out.

  “Yes. And keep ’em coming.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Lucy

  Seth’s red taillights glow in the distance. I stand in the rain, ignoring the water streaming down my face as I focus on his truck until he eases around a bend and the taillights disappear. A sense of loss hits me, and I start to shake. It’s evident who I want to be with, and it isn’t the guy waiting for me inside the house.

  I drag my feet across the gravel walkway, wishing I could get in my car and follow Seth home. But I have to deal with my problems. Running away isn’t going to help. Once inside, I grab a towel from the downstairs bathroom and then head straight for my room to change. At the top of the stairs, I pause. There’s a light glowing from my bedroom.

  Oh my God. Cadan’s in there. I yank the door open and storm in. “What do you think—” I stop mid-sentence, silenced by his pained expression. He’s holding the picture Seth drew of me this morning. Sadness haunts his eyes as he glances up at me.

  “He drew this, didn’t he?”

  I nod.

  Running his fingers gently over the paper, he crumples the edge with his other hand as he appears to fight with his emotions. It’s all I can do not to rip it out of his grip to smooth the best gift anyone has ever given me. “Please be careful with it.”

  His fingers uncurl, and with effort he puts it on my nightstand.

  “You don’t have any reason to be angry, you know,” I say. “You and me? We’re not together.”

  He stands and walks over to me. “I know, Lucy. The last thing I need is a reminder.”

  I take a step back, and even though I’m fully clothed, I press the towel to my body. The way he’s gazing at me makes me feel as if I’m completely naked. As if he’s seeing more than he should.

  “That picture?” He waves a hand toward it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that content. That peaceful.”

  “I was asleep.”

  “I saw that.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Do you love this guy?”

  I stand frozen, unable to move, unable to answer his question.

  “You do.” Cadan hangs his head, defeated.

  “I… I don’t know. I mean, that’s not a fair question,” I stammer out.

  He brushes past me and then pauses in the doorway facing the hallway. He doesn’t look back when he says, “You should get into dry clothes. We can talk downstairs.”

  Once he’s gone, I shut the door with a soft click. I can’t recall ever seeing Cadan appear so sad. The guy who just left was a stranger to me. Usually cocky and full of more confidence than should be legal, he’s subdued, maybe even apologetic, as if he really is remorseful. I don’t know what to make of this new development.

  I head to my bathroom and turn the shower on. Memories of this morning flash through my mind. Seth’s hands ghost over my body, making me tingle with remembered desire. It’s hard not to compare Seth to Cadan since Cadan is the only other person I’ve been with. I can’t stop myself though. When Cadan and I were together, we had plenty of fire and intensity fueled by our connection. But with Seth there is something else. When we’re together, there’s a tenderness combined with heat and raw emotion that doesn’t have anything to do with mates or magic. We’re two people desperate to know one another. By choice, not fate. And it seems more real.

  After a hot shower, I emerge and dress in jeans and a sweatshirt. Wearing thick wool socks, I pad downstairs, dreading the coming conversation. Cadan is sitting stiffly on the couch in front of the fireplace.

  “Hey,” I say.

  He turns and gives me a slight smile. “You look warmer.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Have a seat.” He gets up and disappears into the kitchen while I settle in and wait. When he comes back, he hands me one of the two mugs he’s carrying. “It’s mocha.”

  I tuck my feet under me, grateful I have something to concentrate on.

  Cadan sits at the opposite end of the couch. After a few moments, he clears his throat. “I’m going to tell Cassie we’re not recording the new songs.”

  I snap my head up and stare at him. “
But what about the publishing contract?”

  He shrugs. “We can write new songs for it. I’m sure we can work something out. I bet we can even get a shortened tour if you want. We’ll have to do a few television appearances, but not much more. Jeff’s been digging through the contract, and it’s pretty flexible on the promotional stuff.”

  “Really?” I turn to face him, my brows pinched in confusion. “Last time I talked to him he said the contract was ironclad.”

  “He was mistaken.” Cadan puts his mug down and gazes into my eyes. “I want you to be happy, Luce. Like that picture. I want you to sleep soundly and not look like you’re in a perpetual state of frustration or anger. After I saw the picture, I realized just how unhappy I’ve made you.”

  “You didn’t make me unhappy per se…” I don’t really know what else to say.

  He snorts out a sardonic laugh. “Right. Well, I disagree. When we first met you smiled a heck of a lot more than you do now. I’m pretty sure I’m a large part of that.”

  “Cadan.” I sigh. “I just lost my dad. Mom and I have been fighting. Our relationship has been unsettled at best, but you’re not the reason I’m struggling. I’m just going through a rough patch right now.”

  He scoots forward and places his hand on my thigh. “I know, babe. And that’s why I want you to have whatever it is you need. As much as it kills me to say it, this tattoo guy seems to be better for you than I am.”

  I straighten. “Are you really trying to hand me off to someone else?”

  “No.” He says it with finality. “Definitely not. I want you with me. Always. But not if it’s not the best thing for you. One day we’ll be together. But not now I don’t think.”

  “One day, huh?” The pressure in my chest loosens a bit. It makes it easier to think we might have a chance to find our way together someday, even if I don’t feel it now. And I don’t. My heart lies elsewhere.

  “Yeah.” His arms come around me and he holds me against him, stroking my hair. I let him, comforted by the fact that he finally seems to be thinking of me for once in his life. He lets go and stands. “I think I’ll go to bed. Merry Christmas Eve, Luce. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  A moment later, the stairs creak under his footsteps and then the guest room door shuts with a soft click. Sitting on the couch with my legs tucked under me, I contemplate calling Seth. But I want to talk to Jax first about Cadan and this new turn of events. Pulling out my phone, I hit Jax’s name and wait. It goes straight to voice mail. Damn.

  An hour and three more tries later, I give up and go to bed. As warm and cozy as I am, sleep eludes me. Not even the soft strum of the rain on the windows can lull me into oblivion. After staring at the ceiling and watching the clock tick until well past three a.m., I finally fall into a fitful sleep where I dream of Seth. He’s with me, but not really. We’re standing together, but he doesn’t seem to know I’m there, as if one of us is a ghost, but I don’t know which one. Frustrated, I do everything I can think of to get him to notice me. I yell, wave my arms, and even go so far as to wrap my arms around him and kiss him, but he stands there, impassive and unaware.

  Finally he turns his head in my direction, but he doesn’t see me. No. He sees someone else walking out of the coastal fog. She’s tall and slender, her long hair blowing in the breeze.

  Seth’s eyes light up with wonder, and he lets out a surprised gasp as he strides toward her. She grins and holds out her hand. Almost running now, he reaches for her, but just as his arms wrap around her, she disappears once again.

  A guttural cry of loss tears from Seth, and it’s so heart wrenching it feels as if someone has stabbed me in the chest. I run to his side, wanting to comfort him, to ease his suffering, but still he doesn’t hear or see me. He sinks to his knees, anguish-ridden with grief.

  I wake with a start. “Elsa.” Her name slips from my lips in a whisper, and I sit straight up in bed, wide awake, my heart racing. My eyes adjust quickly in the predawn light as I take in the familiar surroundings of my bedroom. The dream seemed so real I still feel the moisture on my skin.

  Leaning back against my mountains of pillows, I rub my eyes and start when the sound of the front door opening catches my attention. Low voices reverberate from downstairs. I glance at the clock. Six a.m. Jumping out of bed, I stuff my feet into my slippers, wrap myself in my robe, and descend to the first floor to investigate.

  Cadan and Will, our blue-haired bass player, are sitting at my bar drinking coffee. “Hey.” I rub my eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Will came to pick me up,” Cadan says into his coffee. “We’ll be on our way in a few minutes.”

  “What?” I sink down onto a barstool. “But it’s Christmas and it’s so early.”

  Cadan gives me a sad look. “I don’t mean to leave you alone today, but really, I think it’s for the best.” He gets up and nods to Will. “If you’re ready, I think now’s a good time.”

  Will tosses him a set of keys. “Whatever, man. You’re driving. I haven’t even gone to bed yet.”

  I grab Will’s arm. “You drove here from Sac?” It’s where the band is hanging out while waiting to see what Cadan and I decide.

  He yawns and nods. “Don’t worry. I didn’t get up until four.” He gives me a quick hug and whispers, “I’m sorry about what went down. You didn’t deserve that.”

  I squeeze him in acknowledgement. It feels good to have someone admit I’m not totally crazy. “It’s good to see you, even if only for a few minutes.”

  “You, too, Luce.” He releases me and disappears out the front door. Cadan gazes at me, taking me in as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. Then without a word, he follows Will outside.

  I sit back down, trying to reconcile the sadness of watching him go with the desire to dance around my kitchen in sheer elation. Without another thought, I run upstairs, throw on some clothes, and race to my car.

  Twenty minutes later, I pull up to Jax’s house and stop behind a familiar red truck. I frown and glance at the clock. Six forty-nine. What is Seth doing at her house so early on Christmas morning?

  More curious than anything else, I grab Jax’s present and jog up the stairs to her front door. I knock and hop back and forth, trying to stave off the cold. After a few moments, I knock again and blow on my now-frozen fingers while I wait.

  Impatient, I press against one of her side windows and peer in. I gasp, then shock turns me to stone. I blink, certain I’m hallucinating. It isn’t possible. But the scene doesn’t shift. Right there on the couch is Jax, sprawled across Seth. She’s wearing tiny sleep shorts and a camisole top. He’s wearing nothing. Her shirt is riding up, helped along by his hand splayed across her lower back.

  I jump back, a sob forming in my throat. Dropping Jax’s present, I spin and bolt.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Seth

  An elbow slams into my gut and I groan. “What the—”

  “Jesus, Seth. Cover yourself.” Jax throws the towel at me and runs to the window. “Oh, dammit!” She pulls the door open and yells, “Lucy!”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, clutching the towel around my waist.

  “It’s Lucy.” Jax scowls and waves a hand toward the street. “She must have seen us sleeping and got the wrong idea. ’Cause look.”

  I peer out the door. The woman I’ve been dreaming about all night has a horrified expression on her face as she frantically tries to unlock her car door. She drops her keys, and when she bends to pick them up, she knocks her head on the mirror. “Ouch. Fuck,” she cries.

  “Lucy,” I call, stepping out onto the porch. The cold morning air nearly freezes my balls off, but she’s so upset, I can’t force myself to go back inside.

  She pauses but doesn’t look up before pulling her door open and climbing into her car.

  Shit!

  Barefoot and all but stark naked, there’s no way I can catch her before she peels away from the curb. “Son of a… fuck.” I slam the door shut and immediately s
earch for my phone on the coffee table. Her line rings and rings and rings and finally her voice mail answers.

  “Lucy. Jesus, babe. It’s not what you think. I slept on Jax’s couch. My clothes were drying and I passed out before they were done.” A knot forms in my stomach. “We were drinking and… Shit, that sounds bad. But really, Lucy. Nothing happened. Jax must’ve fallen asleep on me. I swear to God all we did was sleep. I’d really like to see you. Give me a call. I’ll come over. Or you can come to my place if you’re free. Call me back.”

  Jax stares at me for a minute, her brows pinched, then makes a disgusted smacking noise with her mouth. “I have got to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.”

  I sit on the couch, running my hands through my hair while I wait for Jax to finish in the bathroom. By the time she finally emerges, I’m pacing. “I need my clothes.”

  She quirks an eyebrow. “You’re not going to go over there, are you?”

  “Of course I am. I can’t let her think something went on here.” I frown. “Why aren’t you more upset? You have to know what she was thinking.”

  “I am upset. But we didn’t do anything, so this will blow over.” She crosses the room and fishes her phone off her desk and curses under her breath. “Dead.”

  I wait for her while she digs around for the cord and eventually plugs it in. When she turns around, she actually takes a step back even though I’m across the room from her. “Damn, Seth. You look like you’re going to murder someone.”

  “My clothes, Jax. I need to go.” The look on Lucy’s face, the obvious pain—I can’t let her go on thinking Jax and I… just no.

  “No, you don’t. Isn’t Cadan still there? She doesn’t need you barging in on her. I’ll talk to her. Trust me.”

  “Jax,” I growl.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and juts her chin out stubbornly. “Wait for her to calm down.”

  “Fuck me.” I stuff my feet into my shoes and grab the blanket off the couch. Wrapped in purple chenille, I’m halfway down the stairs before Jax catches up.

 

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