Not Just Another Romance Novel

by Lisa Suzanne

  He held onto the bottle of lube as we made our way toward the register to pay.

  And that’s when everything sort of went to hell. I was giggling at something Dax had said, gazing at him adoringly, when I turned to look ahead of me.

  And there stood Scott.

  His eyes widened when they met the box and the bottle in Dax’s hands. He glanced over at me without really looking at me, and then he strode by us without a word.

  As I watched the familiar figure retreat without even so much as a “Hello,” the ache of disappointment permeated through my bones.

  He’d just kept on walking like I was some stranger.

  But I wasn’t a stranger.

  I was his best friend.

  Correction. I was his former best friend.

  Dax and I didn’t use the condoms. Seeing Scott had sort of forced me out of the mood, and Dax had to head home to get ready for band practice anyway.

  I spent the rest of the day lounging in my pajamas and trying to figure out Statistics on my own. I wasn’t so keen on asking my tutor to teach me the material, especially not after he’d totally ignored my existence at the pharmacy. And not now that I had it in my head he might have feelings for me.

  I wondered what Scott was up to. Whether he was thinking about me.

  I doubted it. He was probably off having a blast with his new best friend. Or maybe she had been a date.

  I sighed, finished my study guide, and closed my Stats book along with the other book Scott had let me borrow as I resigned myself to the fact that I’d probably bomb the test.

  Austin, Shannon, and I watched MFB at Emerson’s again, and Scott was mysteriously and noticeably absent again. The Saturday night crowd was as loud and wild as the Friday night group, but my new sex partner had done us the great favor of reserving us a table. It helped since I was supposed to stay off of my ankle, and I also found it to be an incredibly sweet gesture.

  “What happened to the guy who gave up his barstool for me?” I asked Shannon just before MFB took the stage.

  She laughed. “Pete? He’s a nice guy, but I wasn’t feeling it. Besides, Hawk called.”

  “Hawk?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

  “The biker. Rusty’s brother.”

  I giggled. “How could I forget Hawk?”

  Our conversation was cut short as the first four members of MFB took the stage and the ladies started screaming.

  And then Dax Hunter strode confidently across the stage to the microphone, and the noise was deafening.

  When the lights were bright enough that I could read his shirt, I just shook my head as a blush lit up my face.

  “I Had Sex Last Night” was written in bold, bright letters across his chest.

  Austin and Shannon both looked to me for my reaction. I was glad the lights were dim so they couldn’t see my scarlet cheeks as I stared ahead at the stage, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that they were both laughing. Hysterically.

  I narrowed my eyes at my friends. Then I turned my attention to the man wearing the shirt talking about me as I hoped against hope people would just think it was a funny t-shirt.

  And then a little piece of me realized it wouldn’t be so bad if people knew. Maybe the women would lay off of my man a little when they saw us together and read his shirt. Certainly they’d put two and two together, right?

  Somehow I doubted it. Dax Hunter was a hot commodity, as evidenced by the way the women in the front reached toward him up on the stage and then practically fainted when he touched their outstretched hands.

  I’d always have competition with him. I’d always have other women around, and he’d always have to play the part of the rock star kissing his adoring fans.

  The thought made me a little bit sad. With Dax, it would never be just the two of us. There would always be someone else vying for his attention and his affection.

  After the show, Dax drove me home. It was a strange realization that this was my normal. It was well after one in the morning when we left Emerson’s, and I should’ve been tired. But with Dax’s hand inching its way up my thigh as we sped toward my apartment, I had a hard time feeling anything aside from desire.

  When we got home, we didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Margaritas, my drink of choice for the evening, fueled me. Tequila had always been panty-dropping juice. Combined with Dax “The Panty Dropper” Hunter, I didn’t have much of a chance of a quiet night early to bed.

  He slammed me up against my front door and then his mouth crashed down to mine. He was clearly in control—he had to be since he’d driven me home—but I tasted the faintest hint of whiskey as his tongue flicked softly against mine.

  His fingers moved sensually and nimbly as he made quick work of my clothes—jeans and a simple black blouse. I’d chosen something a little naughtier for underneath since I figured we’d end up back at my place, and the low growl that escaped his chest when he saw my black silk bra and panty set made it well worth the extra attention I’d paid.

  I’d never been with a man as sexual as Dax. I’d never not made it to the bedroom for sex. I’d had sex in places aside from the bedroom, of course, but this was a carnal connection, an urgency for each other no one else could satisfy.

  Before I knew it, he was fastening on one of the condoms he’d bought earlier that day. Then he bent me over one of the chairs in my dining room as he slid into me from behind.

  I didn’t even need the lube. I was, for lack of a better word that always grossed me out when I read my romance novels, plenty moist to accommodate him.

  This was our third time together, and it was as pleasurable as the first two times. I thought again of the t-shirt he’d worn the first night I’d met him, and he really was a machine at this.

  I tried not to think that it was because he’d had so much experience. I tried to think that it was just a talent.

  But the tiny, very pessimistic thought about why he was so good at this wouldn’t leave my mind.

  I thrust back at him with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Apparently I was doing my job correctly, because his breathing increased as his groans grew louder.

  And then he exploded into me, and he pumped a few more times as his fingers came down to help push me into my own ecstasy.

  He hugged me from behind for a quiet, peaceful moment before he stood and pulled out of me.

  And then we walked down my hallway together to get ready for bed.

  24

  Sunday consisted of solo studying and packing for my trip home. I tried my hardest to put Scott out of my mind even though every single concept on my Stats study guide reminded me of him.

  Dax understood when I told him I wouldn’t be able to go to Emerson’s that night. I needed a good night’s sleep so I could concentrate on my test at eight in the morning. While we were both sad it wasn’t going to work out to spend our last night together, he was considerate to the fact that I had a test and needed to focus on my studies.

  He really was a great boyfriend.

  He even volunteered to drive me to the airport, and he’d collected my return flight information so he could pick me up the following Sunday. When I’d asked him about his own Thanksgiving plans, he was vague, simply saying he would spend it with some friends.

  I wondered about his family life. We’d been so busy finding our place together that we hadn’t really connected on that personal level.

  I vowed I would get to know who Dax Hunter was a little better when I got back from Thanksgiving break. Maybe I’d even get to know him better while I was at home, especially since we promised we’d talk to each other every day.

  So when I crawled into bed on Sunday night after a boring day by myself, I felt the loneliness. I had already started getting used to—or addicted to?—having Dax in my bed, and I found myself missing him.

  But that didn’t stop the traitorous thoughts about Scott from entering my mind as I tried to fall asleep.

  ***

  When I woke the next mor
ning, I had a new text from Dax. Good luck on your test.

  The test was all I had left on my agenda before Dax came to pick me up to take me to the airport.

  I really felt like I needed to say something to Scott. I just wasn’t sure what. I hated the idea of leaving for almost a week without clearing the air between us. We’d had a nice moment on Thursday when Dax and I had nearly ended things, but since then, he’d been more distant than ever. And the CVS incident only cemented the weirdness between us.

  I rushed through the test so I’d be able to walk out the same time as him. It would be my only chance to talk to him before I left. I probably scored in the C-range, if that, but sometimes life overruled tests.

  I turned in my test at the same time as him, and he looked surprised. He walked quickly—too quickly for me to keep up with—but I managed to catch his sleeve just as we exited the Psych building. “Hey, you want to walk me home and I can grab that book you lent me?” It was a feeble excuse of a way to spend more time with him, but I needed something.

  “Sure.” It wasn’t an assured sure. It was a questioning, drawn-out, nearly sarcastic sure. “Or you can just bring it to class next Monday.”

  “I’d rather get it to you before Thanksgiving break. I just know I’ll forget it, and I’m thinking about it now.”

  He sighed. “Fine.”

  I hated that he didn’t want to spend time with me. He didn’t even want to be around me long enough to walk me from class to my apartment.

  I hated what had happened to us.

  I missed what we’d had as friends. We used to laugh all the way home, and then he’d come in and we’d flip through the television channels until we landed on some stupid reality television show, where we’d trade barbs back and forth about the psychological make-up of each person on the show. We used to watch old movies together, old black and white ones that I always hated but didn’t care because I’d get to spend those moments with Scott. We’d share a bag of popcorn and a Pepsi.

  There was so much we used to do that we just didn’t do anymore. It was like our friendship had magically died overnight, right about the same time I started to realize I had feelings for him.

  Was this my fault? Was I subconsciously pushing him away?

  Or had Hayden been onto something?

  My eyes filled with tears as we walked in awkward silence toward my apartment. I looked up at the sky, an old trick I’d learned to ward off tears.

  But the hot stinging wouldn’t go away. I didn’t want him to see me like that, so I did everything I could to push away the hot feeling behind my eyes.

  I thought about puppies. Puppies always made me smile. I thought about Dax. He always made me smile, but at that moment, the thought of Dax made the burning behind my eyes hurt even more. For some reason, I felt like I was betraying Dax as I walked with Scott.

  It was ridiculous to feel that way. I had every right to walk home with a friend.

  But somehow the heaviness between us felt like much more than a walk between two friends.

  And then suddenly we stood in front of my apartment building. All I had to do was walk to my door, unlock it, and go inside. I’d grab the book and hand it to Scott, and then Dax would pick me up and I’d be on my way home for Thanksgiving.

  But that wasn’t how the day was supposed to play out.

  I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

  I was tired of the radio silence from Scott. I was confused by all of the feelings hitting me from every direction. I was maybe falling for Dax and maybe falling for Scott.

  But worse than that, I missed our friendship. I missed him. I thought longingly of our stolen moment on my couch just a few days earlier when he’d comforted me and I’d felt a sense of peace.

  I stared at him for a minute before I spoke. He stared straight ahead. I knew he felt my eyes on him from the way he flinched. It was slight and muted, but it was there.

  “What’s wrong with you lately?” I finally asked, my voice soft.

  “Nothing,” he muttered.

  “Stop lying to me!” My voice went up in volume…much louder than I’d intended it to be. Suddenly I was yelling at him, and the burning behind my eyes intensified until one hot tear slid down my cheek. Another followed on the other side.

  If I hadn’t seen him with another girl at the diner, I might’ve been able to let it go.

  But I had seen him. I was being replaced, and that hurt.

  “I’m not lying.” His voice was still soft, and he still refused to look at me.

  Even though my outburst was coming, I still took a second to note the attractiveness of the man in front of me. His body hidden behind a black shirt and jeans was athletic and agile…something I’d never noticed. His profile revealed a strong, clenched jaw, the muscles working back and forth.

  “Scott, this has been going on for weeks. You’re ignoring me. You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me! You’re my best friend and you won’t look at me!” I was becoming uncontrollably hysterical. Tears tracked down my cheeks by the end of my tirade, and then my last sentence came out on a quiet whimper as a sob broke through. “Why won’t you even look at me?”

  At long last, his head turned in my direction. His clouded blue eyes met mine, and I finally saw all the painful emotions he’d been hiding from me for weeks.

  It wasn’t just pain. It wasn’t just sadness. It wasn’t just hurt.

  It was agony.

  Plain and simple. He was suffering, and it was because of me.

  I saw it all there, written plain as day as his eyes came into focus on me. I knew with just that one look that Hayden had been right after all.

  “You really want to know why, Piper?” he asked. His voice had gained some volume, too. The ache in his eyes turned to fear and then to anger as his jaw clenched for a second, pulsing with fury.

  I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to know anymore, but he didn’t wait for me to answer. “It’s because I fucking love you. I’m in love with you, okay?” He was yelling now, full blast. “I’ve loved you since the day I fucking met you. But you’ve got your rock star, and I can’t sit by and watch you fall in love with him.” He looked away from me, and his voice dropped in brokenhearted defeat. “I want you to be happy, Piper. That’s all I want for you. But if it’s with someone else, it’s going to have to be without me. Happy fucking Thanksgiving.”

  He stared at me for just a beat longer, and then he turned.

  He moved quickly down the sidewalk. He walked away from me.

  He was in love with me?

  Love? He loved me?

  When Hayden had mentioned that maybe Scott had feelings for me, I thought it was a crush—much like the one I had on him.

  But love?

  I stood on the sidewalk in front of my building, my hands shaking and tears streaming down my face as I stared after Scott, his body getting smaller and smaller the farther he walked away from me.

  ***

  I saw Scott’s stupid Stats book sitting on my living room table the moment I opened my door.

  If it wasn’t for that stupid book, he’d never have said those words to me. Instead, I’d forced the issue and heard a confession I clearly wasn’t ready to hear. I was with Dax now, and my friendship with Scott would never be the same.

  I sat on my couch and cried for a long time. I cried for as long as I could as I held Scott’s book in my hands. I thought about my friendship and my recently developed feelings for Scott. I thought about the sex and my recently developed feelings for Dax.

  I thought about the myriad of emotions coursing through me that hadn’t taken on definite shapes quite yet.

  And then I forced myself to stop. I had tears left in me, but I needed to get ready for my trip. I stood from the couch, took a shot of tequila straight from the bottle to settle my nerves, and packed my bag.

  I slipped the Stats book in at the last minute. It seemed to be the one thing I had that belonged to Scott, and something in my heart wanted it with me.


  I wished I had something of Dax’s to take with me. I wanted one of his t-shirts that smelled like him. I wanted something to remind me of him while I was away.

  But it seemed that all I had were the memories of what we’d shared and a few pictures I’d taken of him up on stage.

  Dax spoke softly as he drove me to the airport a little while later. “I’ll miss you too, sweets.”

  I hadn’t said I was going to miss him.

  It’s not that I wouldn’t miss him. Of course I would. He’d somehow woven into the fabric of my life in a short time. He was part of things now, and I liked having him there.

  I just couldn’t get Scott and his stupid words out my head.

  I’d been quiet since Dax had first arrived at my apartment to drive me to the airport, and apparently he mistook my quiet for the longing we’d both feel while I was gone. I sent a tiny smile in his direction to make him feel like that was my issue. I couldn’t talk about my real issue, especially not with him.

  When he pulled up to curbside checkin, he hurried around to the trunk to get my suitcase before meeting me by the passenger side of his car.

  He pulled me in for one of his special Dax kisses, slow and sensual. He even slipped his tongue into my mouth while his arms held me tightly.

  His kisses were like some magical elixir. He managed to help me forget about everything else for a minute, and that was exactly what I needed.

  Dax was the one I wanted to be with. Definitely Dax. To be honest, I wanted him right there on the curb, but I had to get going. We hadn’t had time for one last romp between my class and packing before my flight. I wished we’d made the time. I needed to feel that intimacy with him. I needed to remind him how well we connected one more time before I left.

  Or maybe I just wanted him to help me forget about Scott.

  Dax and I had never exactly labeled what we were doing as exclusive, but after our fight when I’d confessed the real motivation behind my master’s project, we both knew we were in the beginning stages of commitment. A part of me wanted to remind him of that before I left. I had no idea what sorts of temptation he would face when I was gone.

  I was pretty sure a few days away from all of this drama was exactly what I needed. It would give me time to clear my head, to figure out how I really felt about Dax.