“Please leave, Viola.”
She began toward him once more.
The crunch of her boots against the ground caused his head to fly out of his hands.
“Please,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
She froze once more, now just a few feet away from him. “What if I don’t wanna leave?”
He sank his trembling fingers into his hair, over and over, looking down at the ground, breathing heavy and labored.
“I think Betty’s onto us anyway,” she said. “So things might not be a secret for much longer.”
He clasped his hands tightly and pressed them to his mouth, eyes falling closed as he shook his head. “She caught you too, huh?”
“Right as I made it to the porch. Gave me enough Godly blessings to ensure I feared for my life.”
“All those Godly threats were her way of telling us to stop before she stops it for us. And we should heed her warning.”
“So she threatened you too?”
“It’s what she does best.”
“Just because we have to stop doesn’t mean we can’t be friends… Right?”
“I can’t be your friend, Viola.”
“So we’ll just be nothing at all?”
“Yes.”
“So, I’m the reason you’ll leave after the holidays and be gone for another ten years? Just to avoid me? I’m the reason you’ll throw away everything you’re trying to rebuild with your family?” Her heart clenched at the thought. Her fake relationship with Milo was really about to further fracture Jon’s relationship with the people he loved most. A relationship that was already on shaky ground, leaving him wobbling and unsteady, as he tried his damnedest to rebuild.
“It was gonna be another ten years regardless.”
“I don’t believe that. The fact that you came back after that terrible dinner on the first night proves how badly you want to fix things with them. How badly you don’t want to be away from them for another ten Christmases. Not exactly the actions of a man who doesn’t plan on coming back. Sounds like the actions of a man desperate to make amends before it’s too late.”
He chuckled, lips rising into a smirk as he cut his blue eyes to her once more, voice lowering. “You really think I came back for them?”
She lost her breath at his words, at everything they said and, at the same time, didn’t say, her chest stilling in mid-rise.
When she didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes and looked away from her once more. The steady chirp of crickets from all around seemed to rise higher in volume with every moment of silence that passed, but still, his labored breathing was seconds from overpowering it.
“Even if you didn’t come back for them, you’ve stayed this long for them. At some point, it hit you how badly you need them.”
“I needed something badly, alright.”
And she’d given it to him. Was a quick roll in the dirt all Jon had needed to get her out of his system? At that moment, Milo would’ve told her that going down on Jon—letting him go down on her—was the biggest mistake she’d ever made. A mistake that would firmly place her in Jon’s casual sex box forever. That would ensure he never looked at her as anything more than a quick, cheap thrill. One false move from receiving an unsolicited picture of his dick that she could place right next to Gleb’s.
Gleb. She found herself amazed at how quickly that name had disappeared from her mind. A name that had once tortured her with every second that passed now only made it difficult not to burst out laughing. It was amazing how one person could render another so insignificant. How quickly another person had made her see Gleb with new eyes. With crystal clear vision. Gleb may as well be a speck of dirt on the bottom of her shoe when put up next to Jon. She couldn’t even fathom, in the deepest crevice of her aching heart, how she’d even found him attractive in the first place.
She went on, desperate to escape the thoughts that were turning her stomach. “You’ve even agreed to this awful fishing trip tomorrow.”
Jon hissed with a shake of his head. “Don’t remind me.”
“You even pretended to be excited when Robert brought it up at lunch. A rock star, getting back to nature? With the estranged family? Sailing? Hunting? Fishing? Pretending that the thoughts of doing all those things with dear old Dad doesn’t make him want to gouge his eyes out? If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. If that’s not a guy trying to make things right with his family…”
“Don’t get too smug. You’re gonna be rotting on that fishing boat right next to me.”
“And I’m appropriately horrified, don’t worry.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, you don’t strike me as an outdoor girl at all.”
“Never knew how much of a New York City girl I was until I actually moved there.” She shivered. “The thought of gutting a fish who just who looked me in the eye? Peeing in the woods? Sleeping on the ground that dozens of other people have probably peed on too? And in the dead of winter, no less? Ugh. Vomit-inducing on every level.”
“So you’re gonna be a barrel of laughs tomorrow, then?”
“Not intentionally, but probably, yeah…” Her chest warmed like hot cocoa as they shared a gentle smile.
His smile grew, nodding toward her hand. “How’s your finger?”
She raised her hand to look down at her marred finger. “Still swollen, but getting there…”
When she looked back up at him, his eyes had left her hand, now focused squarely on her legs, which were bare under the sleeping shirt that stretched down to her knees. It was as if her calves were just as titillating as a pair of bare breasts or splayed thighs the way he seemed to grow lightheaded. As if every nerve ending under his skin was stirring and tingling as furiously as hers were with every moment his eyes remained on his body. She couldn’t stop her clit from throbbing when he licked his lips. She swore she could feel the moment the pulsating bud swelled out from under the hood between her legs and brushed against the cotton of her panties—as if it could sense that tongue from several feet away and was begging for another colloquy. Her thoughts were confirmed when the sensitive nub began an ardent pound, not only making its presence known to Viola but demanding her full attention, leaving no doubt in her mind as to where it wanted to be. Up against those lips of his, still gleaming from his tongue’s attentions.
She licked her own lips and swore she could still taste his sweet flavor from when she’d gotten a delicious sample on the floor below her feet the first time. Her knees began to wobble when his eyes remained on her legs.
He must’ve seen it because his gaze slowly climbed her body once more, and once it reached her eyes, amusement shone in his blue orbs.
“What was that—” His voice broke. “Between you and Milo? At church this morning?”
What was he really asking her? Was he asking whether there was trouble in paradise? Whether a split was on the horizon? A split that would leave enough room for him to wiggle his way in or, at the very least, make the guilt charging through him a little less potent if he decided to close the space between them and give the pounding pearl between her legs some much-needed attention?
“It was just a stupid argument,” she said, once it hit her how selfish her thoughts were. “We argue all the time, so…”
“Sounds healthy.”
For friends, it was healthy. For lovers, not so much. But we’re not lovers at all, so…
“He’s annoying.” She shrugged, suddenly blasted with the memory of Milo praising the sermon that basically told him he was going to burn in hell for all eternity.
“No arguments here.” He laughed.
“He loves you, though.” She knew her words would only serve to make him feel more terribly about the tension between them. The tension that had grown so thick they were both now gasping in each breath. She knew they would only serve to remind him why they couldn’t do anything to quell their breathless desire. At least not without feeling even more terrible than he already did. At that moment, however, she c
ared more about making him feel better than about her own selfish need to feel him. To feel the weight of his body on top of her. The warmth of his lips on hers. The soft, wet brush of his tongue on her slit. “He really does love you, Jon. A lot. I know him better than anyone, so you can trust me. Honestly? I think some part of him might be a little jealous. I know because I’ve seen how he acts when he’s gotten jealous with past girlfriends…” And by girlfriends, I mean boyfriends. “And the way he acts with you is… very similar.”
“Not sure if that’s enlightening or really fucking weird.”
“I mean, he embraces the math nerd persona because he has no choice but to—because that’s who he is at his core—a huge nerd. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a nerd but, I think, secretly, he always wanted to be one of the cool kids. He always wanted to be like you.”
His eyes fell to her lips. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this long without you here.”
Her eyes widened. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting him to say, but that definitely hadn’t been it. “And here I was thinking I was making the entire experience a nightmare for you.”
“Oh, you are.”
“Oh.” A surprised laughed bubbled up from her lips.
“Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
“Maybe next year you should bring a cute girl home so she can help make the experience a little more bearable for Milo too.” She clapped her mouth shut when she realized she was being a little too blasé about the fact that she was carrying on an affair with her boyfriend’s brother. She snuck a pained look at Jon. He must’ve thought she was a complete monster. Or, at best, totally psychotic.
Instead of eyeing her like the savage cheating monster she supposedly was, however, the amusement in his eyes grew deeper.
Was he so amused by her because she’d fallen too far in his mind to take seriously? Was the smile on his face one of genuine adoration, or proof that she’d become nothing but a joke to him? An ongoing quip that he couldn’t help but smirk at? The kind of knee-slappingly heartless hoe that couldn’t possibly stand the test of time with his brother, which made it easier to laugh at? To laugh off?
She found herself furious with Milo for the millionth time since touching down in Utah. Knowing that every single thing Jon thought about her was built on a mountain of fallacies. Knowing that what they’d had on the plane really had been real—the fact that he still couldn’t resist his attraction to her proved that it had been. If things had been different, she and Jon could’ve really worked out. Hell, they might’ve even stood the test of time. Regardless of how terrible their affair was making him feel, he couldn’t stay mad at her. No matter how desperate he was to push her away, he couldn’t help pulling her back in a moment later. He couldn’t stay mad because their connection was undeniable. The conversation easy. It just felt… right.
And it would never be hers. Not completely anyway. Not without revealing the secret that, as that horrendous church service had proved, would devastate Milo more than she could’ve ever imagined.
Her anger at Milo forced her to draw in a sharp breath because she suddenly felt on the verge of death. It was a breath taken in vain because, if she couldn’t have Jon, it seemed death was the only thing she had left.
“Have you ever brought a girl home?” she asked. “I mean, before you got kicked out at fifteen, obviously?”
“Can’t bring home a girl you’ve never had.”
“How quickly you forget that you’re talking to your biggest fan. I know just as much useless information about all your exes as I do about you, if not more. Wildly jealous social media stalking can prove quite informative.”
“None of those girls were really my girlfriends. Just a bunch of narcissistic personalities whose celebrity ensured they never learned the meaning of the word no. Women with publicity teams at their disposal who had no problem trying to blackmail me into monogamy by dropping unauthorized press releases saying we were in a relationship.”
“Is that even legal?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t care. They knew what it really was, and if they didn’t, they learned fast.”
“But you were photographed by the paparazzi with all of them.”
“Hard not to be photographed with someone you’re fucking, however casually.”
“True…” She frowned softly. “So… you’ve never had a real girlfriend? Ever? Not one?”
“For what? I already told you, Viola. Sex. Drugs. Rock music. What man in his right mind would have any interest in a relationship?”
Viola’s heart sank as his words rocketed her back to one of the few conversations she’d had with Gleb that hadn’t revolved around his dick. How Gleb had said those exact words—“I’m not looking for a relationship” just a few days before blessing her with a picture of his crooked dick. She knew what those words really meant. She’d learned their heart-churning meaning long before Gleb. “I have no interest in a relationship” really meant “I have no interest in a relationship with you, Viola Rice.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could sprout wings, refusing to let him know how deeply those words affected her. Had she really allowed herself to become so deluded? To believe that a connection between her and a rock star who thought she belonged to his brother could be anything more than a figment of her wild imagination? Had she really allowed herself foolishly to believe that there really was a real connection between her and Jon? Hell, if what he’d just told her was true, he couldn’t even find it in himself to connect with some of the sexiest starlets in Hollywood! If he couldn’t even claim them, on what planet would he ever claim her?
She pressed her lips together.
“He doesn’t live in the same world we do. He doesn’t feel like we feel. He doesn’t think like we think. He’s selfish. He’d eat you for lunch, peanut.”
Considering Jon had already eaten her alive—literally and figuratively—at that very stream, the latter part of Milo’s prior warning didn’t scare her anymore. It was the former that still sank her stomach. Made her palms sweaty and her skin crawl. Was she just another notch of many on Jon’s belt? A girl he was able to fool around with and walk away from without a single thought or emotion? Did he feel anything for her at all?
Most guys found it easy to have sex without emotion, and she imagined that was ten times as true for a guy like Jon. While touring with the band, he probably had sex without emotion every night. Before he’d even learned the girl’s names—if he ever bothered to learn them at all. Imagining the feelings she had for him not being reciprocated made her feel so sick she had to swallow back the bile in her throat.
Some part of her wanted him to be feeling as emotionally attached to her as she already did to him. Some part of her felt that he already did. He’d been waiting there for her, after all, knowing she could find him there if she wanted. Surely if he really didn’t want anything to do with her—if he really didn’t feel what she felt—he wouldn’t have put himself in a position to be found by her, alone, in the middle of the night.
The biggest question for her was: how did he want to be found? Did he want to be found by the Viola he was dying to get to know better? Or just the Viola he was dying to fuck? And if she was simply the Viola he was dying to fuck, was it too late to flip the switch?
“What’s your number?”
She blinked rapidly as his voice tore her from her thoughts. “My… My number?”
“Yeah. How many guys have you been with? I’m curious.”
“You’d be wise not to ask questions that you yourself aren’t ready to answer.”
“Couldn’t answer it even if I wanted to.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you lost track somewhere around album one, huh?”
He nodded up at her. “How many? Tell me.”
“No.” She clenched her fists.
“What am I supposed to do when he brings up sex? Tell him I don’t want to talk about it?”
�
�Yes!” Milo slammed his fists on the table. “Tell him you don’t want to talk about it. Say those exact words. ‘I don’t want to talk about sex.’ See how easy that was?”
“I don’t want to talk about sex!”
There, she’d said it—or rather, shouted it—as the memory of her conversation with Milo sent her into overdrive. She’d said the seven words she’d been terrified to say to any man for most of her adult life. The words she’d been convinced would surely push them away forever once they realized she wasn’t worthy of knowing.
She doubled down before the fear in her heart made her drop dead right where she stood. “We can’t hook up, and I understand that, but if you want to be friends, then I don’t wanna talk about sex, or be your fuck buddy, or be your casual sex plaything or whatever it is you’ve got planned for me in that head of yours. Strictly…G-rated. Forever.”
“I already told you, Viola. I can’t be your friend.”
“Then I guess we’ll be nothing at all.” Her eyes widened at herself. Where had this courageous Wonder Woman come from?
His eyebrows shot up—rising a little higher with each second she remained silent—his eyes shining with amusement. A smirk kissed his lips. The girl who’d had his cock in her mouth the night before didn’t want to talk about sex? He had every right to be amused, frankly. If she were in his shoes, she probably would be too.
Regardless, she steeled her spine, preparing for the fight he was about to put up. Preparing to explain herself. To inform him that she was a human being with real thoughts, real feelings, and real hopes and dreams. Not just a wet hole for him to partake in, in secret, that wasn’t even worthy of his friendship afterward. Something to use, then discard. She waited for him to remind her that sex was all she could ever be to him because she belonged to his brother.
Refrain (Stereo Hearts Book 3) Page 21
