by Susan Ward
Her eyes go wide as she turns back toward me. “No. I haven’t. I didn’t and I couldn’t. All I know is I thought things were good between us after the gig. It seemed good. Better than good. Wonderful. And I don’t even know what you’re suggesting you think I’ve done.”
Some of the urgency of the moment prompts me that I need to dial this down, listen more, and not run headfirst into accusation tossing. Explain, not hurt. Try to understand, not react. Try to get through this to the other side and have her with me.
“I’ve wanted you in the worst way for years, Avery.” The second I start to talk, I can feel this isn’t going to go smoothly because the shit I’ve bottled up inside me is bubbling, refusing to be contained. “Don’t stare at me like you don’t get it. The night of the gig at the Bowl. Remember? You’d have hated it if some guy did you wrong the way you did me. One second we’re into each other and I believe we’re finally starting to be something, and the next you take off with my brother and leave me hanging. No explanation. Nothing. Off with him like I didn’t matter. Eric first. Ethan second. Like always. Even with you. That’s what’s been going on with me since we’ve been here. Trying to figure out why you could kick me that way and how not to hurt so much because I love you.”
“Oh…” she says as if stunned, her mouth staying in a round shape as she sinks down on her recliner again. Then her brows crinkle again. “But I didn’t leave you hanging. I called and called you that night. Left messages. Sent texts. I…”
Her words are lost in the memory of the voice mail I listened to at my house, and out of nowhere I recall how panicked she’d sounded. I’d forgotten that in everything that’d gone down the night at the Bowl, and failed to connect the dots.
“I tried to reach you, Ethan. I really needed to talk to you about a lot of things. I wasn’t leaving you hanging or kicking you or whatever you rudely think I did deliberately. God, I can’t believe you’d think I’d treat you that way. I don’t play games with guys. You should know that without me telling you.”
I tip her chin, needing to see her face. When our eyes meet, I know she’s telling me the truth. Whatever happened, that’s not what that night was to her. And all my messed-up junk in me because of my brother kept me from wondering if she might have been with him for another reason.
My heart pounding, I ask, “What happened that night, Avery?”
Her body does a small shudder, like the memory is horrible, and she brushes back the hair from her face. “Eric showed up at my sister’s house. He was acting and talking crazy, E. To the point I was almost afraid of him. He kept saying people were after him and he needed me with him, but I didn’t want to go. I was scared. Then I thought what kind of friend would let him take off alone the way he was, and worse, what would you think of me if I let your brother down that way and something terrible happened. I tried to call you, to have you help me figure out the right thing to do, but I couldn’t reach you. And Eric was beyond listening to anyone. He was going whether I went with him or not. But someone had to have his back. And I couldn’t let him leave Emmy’s alone because I couldn’t let you down that way. I was trying to be a good friend, but more important, the person you’d want me to be. I left with him because I care about you.”
Oh fuck. “That’s why you were with him the last night he was home?”
She nods. “We drove around in your car, Ethan. I don’t even know how he got it. For hours. Then he got a call from some men and we went to a pickup spot. They put him into a car. And that’s the last time I’ve seen Eric. Then the next thing I know Alan’s bringing me home to tell your mother Eric’s OK. And everything snowballed from there. I didn’t know your parents were going to expect me to stay until Eric’s problems are resolved. I’ve just been trying to be a good friend to your family. Your family, Ethan. That’s why they matter to me, that’s why I do what they ask me, and that’s all I’ve tried to do since Eric showed up at Emmy’s—the right thing because I care about you.”
Whoa. I lean back in my seat, needing support, feeling like I’ve been crushed by that cement truck on my chest again. “I’m sorry. I hate the thought of you going through Eric shit and being afraid. And I feel like the worst kind of asshole not being there for you when you needed me.”
Her misty eyes fill with a look that floods me with sensation. “You made up for it after. That’s why I don’t understand this. If you were upset about me going off with Eric that night, why didn’t you tell me? Why haven’t we talked about this sooner?”
I close my hand over hers, hardly able to take in air through my gushing emotions. “I’m telling you now. That it took so long and me being a jerk to you, you didn’t deserve that. It’s my issue. That I jumped to the wrong conclusions about everything is my issue. No one else’s. The last couple of months have made me realize I’ve got some things I’ve got to work through if I want to have the life I want.”
When her eyes fix on me this time, they’re different, like melting pools of chocolate. “And what do you want, Ethan?”
My heart jumps into my throat. “You, Avery. Right now, that’s all I’m certain of. I want you. If you can give me another chance after being so awful to you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for a very long time.”
She sniffs and it’s then I realize she’s been crying softly through our entire exchange. Waiting for her answer doesn’t work for me. I grab her in my arms and hold her tight against me. “I’m sorry.”
“Is there anything else you might have gotten wrong we should clear up today?”
An errant part of me even knowing the truth—because Avery would have told me if that had happened that night—wants to hear her say she didn’t get with my brother during that insane Eric drama, but no fucking way am I doing that to her. Asking her something awful just to hear her say it didn’t happen because I need her to because of the fucking demons in my head that are not fully contained yet.
I also wrestle into never to be spoken of land those blog posts that appeared out of nowhere about the gig at the Bowl. How she got them. Why she posted them. What that was about, because I’m sure Eric’s in the mix of that one, the answer’s going to be fucked up like everything involving my brother, and I don’t want anything else about him mucking up my feelings for her.
Like I said, I’m a work in progress.
Like I said, the only thing I want is her.
I bury my lips in her hair. “Yeah, there’s one last thing on my side of the table we need to talk about.”
She peeks up at me and it’s almost like she tenses in anticipation of what I’m going to say. “I’m listening.”
“Are we good yet? Do you still kinda like me enough to go back in time and finish our first date the way I’ve longed to and then start being who I want us to be?”
Her face brightens.
I’ve surprised her.
She’s sparkly Avery from head to toe.
Torture for me, but, fuck, do I want it.
Fuck, I want her.
“Hmm…” She pretends to give that serious thought, and even knowing she’s teasing, it’s agony waiting for her to finish. “Intrigued is a better word. I’m intrigued enough to go back in time with you and see what we can be.”
Part Three
“You ride the bumps. You ride the smooth. You ride the ride however it comes. That’s love. And you don’t let anything ever come between you.”
~ Alan Manzone
Chapter Thirty-One
“Avery”
“What are we doing, E? We can’t just escape from prison. I thought we weren’t supposed to leave without the bodyguards. Won’t Dillon come looking for you?”
He crashes his mouth against mine, leaning back against the wall and molding my body into his. “I’ve already told you. We’re finishing our first date the way I’ve imagined it. That means us. Somewhere alone. For a really long time. No interruptions. Just you and me. Don’t change your mind on me now. You think I can’t manage a successful prison break? I was
raised here, remember, and I know how to slip off without Dillon.”
He peeks around the privacy hedge of the east corner of the house and stares across the lawn toward the ten-foot back wall looking for I don’t know what.
I tug on his arm. “Your bedroom’s right there. We could go there. It’s private enough for talking and whatever else we might get to.”
His eyes glow wickedly before he leans in, silencing my protest with a passionate, hard kiss that leaves me breathless. “No way. We agreed before we left the theater. We need time alone. Time to talk. Us time to figure out us. With my family bugging us every five minutes that won’t happen.”
Figure out us—I wish he hadn’t said that. Now we’ve left the house, some of the euphoria has faded from Ethan finally making a move to fix things with me. Each step farther from the house brings my runaway emotions more in check.
Nothing puts sanity on a situation like shining sunlight on it. It brings sharply to mind that beyond our next move being going to bed together, I’m still not certain what he’s looking for with me. That I jumped into the sheets with him once before when I was unclear what we were, and I didn’t like the after. Even with his explaining what his jerk treatment of me was about, I’m not one hundred percent ready to let down my guard and open my heart to him.
Funny how that wasn’t important two months ago, but it’s suddenly darn near the most important thing to me: knowing what he wants before I let myself get close to him again.
I agreed to go somewhere to talk things through. But I can tell since he got me onboard with his plans he’s more focused on the part about going to bed together. And that’s not where I want to begin. I don’t want to jump feetfirst into heartache again.
It saddens me to feel this way, because I never expected to and don’t like it, even knowing why it’s logical I do. But then, I never would have thought before the last two months that E was capable of treating someone as badly as he treated me. Doing the kind of crap the rest of the band does to girls that I’ve witnessed my fill of on tour. The I don’t know you in the morning routine. Taking them to bed. Walling them out after they’ve had their fill. Going on with their life like it’s nothing to them, leaving girls hurt and hanging in confusion. No, never once did I imagine Ethan capable of that. It’s got me wondering what else I don’t know about him.
And now I’m here, ready to take off with him, it brings front and center to my thoughts all the things I haven’t told him. My part in the deception his family has maintained with him. What is he going to think of me when he learns the truth? That I’ve been a part of it.
My confidence he’ll understand why I agreed to participate with what his family’s been doing has been badly shaken by the past weeks and how he hurt me.
There’s no doubt about it. I’m less trusting, less sure over things, and I’ve been changed by what he put me through. To experience how quickly he could turn on me after saying he loves me is a horrible thing to go through.
There’s a lot unresolved between us. And I still haven’t told him I’m pregnant. I’m starting to think we shouldn’t leave here when there are so many shoes left to drop.
He pulls me up to his side. “When I tell you, we have to haul ass to that gate when the security guys are out of view. It’ll take us out onto the street. We can grab an Uber from there.”
I stare up at him. “Then what?”
His potent blue eyes are hot with arousal. “We go to my house. Barricade us in. And we don’t come out until we’ve got everything worked out and we know what we’re doing.”
His voice—excited and sweet—I can feel through my body. Like what we’re doing is very important to him and no game. The blood pumps through my veins and the pulse is between my legs.
“Let’s make a run for it, Avery,” he orders. Sane thought takes flight, and in a second we’re sprinting to the gate.
Safely outside the wall, he reaches in his pocket for his phone. Tap, tap, tap, and he looks at me with an adorably pleased expression. “Two minutes until the car gets here and we’re home free.”
I stare at him, shaking my head. “Something tells me you’ve done that before. Is that how you snuck out of the house to meet girls when you were a kid?”
He grins and my insides shimmy but I roll my eyes. He’s already dragging me along with him too easily. It’s so hard not to get swept up by my emotions and lose myself in Ethan. Lord knows I’ve already done too much of that for a girl who’s supposedly strong and independent.
When the Uber arrives, Ethan opens the door for me. Without pause I climb in, and we head for his house in West Hollywood. The miles are all about touching and kissing, and my panties are soaked through by the end of the drive, to the point I can’t think through anything.
He pulls me along with him into the house, closes the front door, and then flattens me against it, holding my face. “There. Now we’re back. Exactly where we were supposed to be two months ago.”
My breath catches in my throat and my lids flutter wide. “Whatever will you do with me?”
His hips roll forward, brushing where I ache. “A little this.” His mouth lowers to graze the side of my neck. “A little this.” His fingers brush playfully across the thin cotton tee covering my breasts. “And some of this. If you want me to.”
How much I want him makes my head spin, but somehow I manage to maintain some reserve. “In that order?”
“Any order you want.” His thumb teases my lower lip and his mouth follows. “Whatever you want, Avery. You say and I’ll do.”
My face tilts up. “Kiss me.” And his mouth crashes into mine, bringing urgency to sing through my limbs. Even during our night together, he didn’t kiss me this way. Passionate and consuming. Immediate and gentle. Sweetly him yet lust-fueled and carnal.
My lids drift closed from the disorienting assault of sensation and I don’t stop him when his hands close around my wrists, moving me toward his room and the bed, and letting me know as I suspected that talking things out is happening later.
Between kisses and grinds, he starts undressing me. My head sways on the pillow as his mouth moves freely to each part of me he bares. My breathing matches his own ragged breaths, and I’m naked, lying beneath him before I know it.
He rolls back to sit on his knees between my legs. “You’re so beautiful, Avery.” He takes off his shirt and the look in his eyes makes my heart jump. He drops it on the floor. “Now what do you want me to do?”
I want to talk first. Be sure…
My thoughts scatter.
He’s tracing down my middle with a finger, lightly stirring but stopping there. The memory of how his fingers and mouth held hostage my clit turns my insides to screaming want, and as if he can read my thoughts, he eases forward, kissing me there.
A single soft touch of his mouth and his face lifts to me, and I make an aggravated groan.
He knows exactly what I want, how to make me want it, and I also know it’s what he wants, too. E is a fiend and a virtuoso at giving a woman oral pleasure. I could tell the last time we had sex he’s as into it as much as I love having him there. The memories turn up the heat in my body, and the notion of moving forward slowly with Ethan is shredded.
He pulls off his jeans and then goes back between my legs, teasing me with his erection. “I want you so badly. If you don’t want me fucking you hard now, you better say it. I’ve been near bursting since we climbed into the car.”
I meet his simmering gaze. As nice as it feels having his hardness against my slit, I ease my hips back. “I want you to kiss me everywhere.”
Laughing, he runs his tongue along my ear and I shiver. “Exactly what I was hoping you’d say. But I wasn’t sure so I asked. I’m glad we think the same way. Because short of touching and tasting all of you before I’m inside you won’t be enough for me.”
I swallow hard as he starts roaming down my body with his hands and lips, all the way to my toes before he settles with his shoulders between my thigh
s.
He brushes upward with a thumb and blows into me. “She’s very pretty. I like that you’ve left a little landing strip of red hair. Now I don’t have to wonder if your hair is red everywhere.”
I groan as his mouth joins his fingers. My back arches up, bringing me flush against his face, and he starts feasting there. Fuck, he is good at this. Drawing the pleasure to the point where I’m boiling. He eases back to tend another hot spot. Giving and stirring and taking with that tongue of his. To the edge, then back, over and over again.
Inside five minutes, I’m writhing with want and thrashing on the pillow, and he grabs hold of my hips, stilling me. “Don’t come. I don’t want you to make me leave here.”
Panting, I thrust upward into him. “Don’t stop. I won’t make you leave.” My fingers curl around the covers. “Yeah. Oh, there. E, I want you there.”
His tongue strokes slowly, lifts, and he laughs. “No. The longer you hold back the better it’ll be.”
I implore him with a frantic move of my hips. “I’m crawling out of my skin. I don’t think it gets better from here.”
“O ye of little faith.” He proceeds to prove me wrong with a relentless assault that propels the burning climb higher. As though he senses I can’t take any more, his tongue plunges deep and I cry out, the shock waves rolling down my limbs. Wave after wave, pushing me near a painful limit, but his mouth doesn’t stop against me.
I’m lying there gasping as he climbs up my body and reaches for a condom from the bedside table. Not wasting any time, he rolls it down his hard length.
“Hurry, E,” I whisper.
He plunges into me as deep as he can go and stops. I open my eyes to find him balanced on arms that quiver, staring down at my face. “No, not hurrying. You better prepare yourself for a lot of me and a lot of this bed. I warned you at The Cockyard. I want to do every fantasy of Avery I’ve ever had. And we’ve both waited too long for us to get here.”
