In the Band

by Jean Haus

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. Most likely Marcus, I ignore it. I’m trying to understand what Romeo’s saying but it isn’t clicking. “So you didn’t want me for a drummer because Justin did?”

  His mouth turns down as he nods. “That’s part of it.”

  “What’s the other part?” I ask with dread.

  “Like I said, we don’t get along. And…having a girl in the band just seems like a bad, bad idea. Especially you.”

  I stare at him totally confused. What’s so wrong with me?

  “It’s not just that you’re good looking.”

  Me good looking? Though far from obsessed with my physical side, I accepted my little girl cuteness a long time ago. I could be plain or even unattractive. Cute isn’t so bad, but good looking? Coming from His Hotness? My head swims, and it definitely isn’t from the alcohol.

  His gaze finds the floor again while his clasped hands tighten. “When you play, you’re so focused, so driven, so damn beautiful.”

  My breath catches. I go from swimming to drowning. No one has ever called me beautiful. Much less the hottest man on the planet. And after Aaron’s revelation this evening that Romeo called me beautiful probably means more than it should.

  “They’re already flirting. Soon one of them is going to make a move and…” He glances up and stops at my open mouth stare. “What?”

  I’m humming inside. I could blame it on the alcohol but it’s him. His eyes so dark they’re almost black. Lips so full they draw me to them. The sexiness always dripping from him somehow hums into me. And that word. Beautiful. I want to kiss him. Badly. Desperate for him, I lurch forward. Completely uncoordinated within my rush of desire—and perhaps too much alcohol—I collide with the side of his head.

  “Ow!” I rear back holding my forehead.

  “Shit!” Romeo says at the same time. “What the hell was that?” Leaning back, he rubs his temple. “You trying to kill me?”

  My face burns as he watches me. My red skin must give him a clue at what I was trying to do because comprehension slowly enters his gaze.

  Still rubbing his temple, he says, “I can’t figure you out. Every time I think I have…” His eyes cloud with indecision.

  Turning redder by the second, I’m about to jump off the bed and run from the room when he reaches out and catches my chin in a tender grip. I freeze. My skin tingles under his touch. He gently pulls me closer and leans forward. My heart threatens to thud out of my chest as our gazes lock. Mine has to be a picture of shock and wonder.

  “You do something that blows my opinion upside down,” he whispers, tracing my bottom lip with a calloused finger.

  Those full lips come closer and I’m lustful energy, trying to throw myself in his lap and attack him, but he holds me back with a gentle hand at my shoulder and kisses me softly. Once, twice, three times. My heart still thuds wildly yet I catch the rhythm he sets. A rhythm that wants to savor our kiss. Savor me.

  I thought I was drowning, but I’m floating. Upward and into him and his slow burning lips.

  He builds the tempo, pressing his soft lips harder against mine while his hand gently slides up my neck, digs into my ponytail, and loosens my hair. Fingers tangle in released strands, gripping my head while his other hand curls around my waist. He gently drags me closer and his tongue sweeps, slow and delicious, across mine. His mouth’s sensual and slow exploration has my hands gripping the skin of his shoulders left bare from his sleeveless shirt. As he delves deeper, I suck at his tongue and he groans into me. My nails dig into his skin.

  That groan was hot.

  Suddenly, I’m lying on my back. Romeo kneels over me, hands pressed into the bed on each side of my head. He bends, his hair brushing my forehead, and slowly draws my lower lip into his mouth in a sensual draw that has me both drowning and floating. Though I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, I want to feel all of him. I curl a leg around the worn butt of his jeans and attempt to pull him down, even pull at his string necklace with its attached Celtic symbol. My body is screaming for the contact.

  Letting go of my lip with a tender tug, he rolls to my side. Not what I was aiming for but the line of his hard body against mine has me turning my head. Once again, we kiss slowly until the rhythm between us builds. Callused fingers find the bottom edge of my top and skim across my stomach. My body’s jolt tears our mouths apart. He chuckles —the sound echoes inside of me—but his hand stills.

  “You okay?” he whispers and nips at my ear.

  Unable to speak with his mouth on my skin, I nod.

  His lips slide along the line of my jaw while his fingers swirl a pattern on my stomach and ribs. By the time his lips cover mine, I’m panting. Hard. The kiss is frantic and hot and nothing like I’ve ever felt. A mere kiss has never gotten me so worked up. Between more searing kisses, he tugs at my top and I eagerly help him shed it from my skin. His mouth and weight press me back into the bed. When his hand slips under my sports bra and his rough palm grazes my skin, I moan into him.

  His arm trembles. His tongue pauses its movement with mine. Slowly he pulls back and I almost whimper as his hand leaves my skin. “This is going too fast,” he gasps. His gaze devours my body before he quickly yanks a blanket across my semi nakedness.

  My fingers grip his arm as my eyes question his.

  “We’re just starting to become friends,” he says with lashes sweeping down so I can’t read his eyes. “We’re not ready for this.”

  “You don’t want me,” I blurt out miserably still raw from Aaron’s revelation earlier and the memories of countless girls surrounding Romeo.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “That’s not it.”

  I look at the wall while my lower lip trembles again. What the hell is wrong with me tonight? I want to put my trembling lip in a strait jacket.

  “Riley,” he says lowly, but trying to get my emotions under control I stare at the painted brick wall. He tugs my hand gently and places it there. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he asks hoarsely.

  My gaze flies to his. He drops my burning hand. It curls in remembrance.

  I try to explain my reaction. “I just…my ex…he didn’t…he said…” I ramble weakly with my voice breaking. A sob builds in my throat while he frowns and stares at me. Still a bit buzzed and depleted from our blast of lust, I’m falling apart into pieces of anguish. “He admitted…he never thought—”

  “Shhhh,” he whispers, pulling me closer to him by the waist and cradling me against his shoulder while his fingers stroke through my hair.

  The weight of the night settles on my chest. I slowly release a shudder and my body calms. He keeps gently stroking my hair. My eyes flutter closed. His thumb at my waist creates a soothing pattern. I let out another deep breath and drift into the cocoon he creates until dreams and darkness engulf me.

  Chapter 11

  Something keeps buzzing and vibrating against my hip. But content and snug, I try to ignore it. Stay asleep. I float back into a nest of warmth before the irritating buzz comes again, and I slowly become aware I’m lying on a muscled chest. Stomach muscles rise under my palm. An arm pins me against a hard body. And my leg is curled around a muscular thigh. These things more than the buzz wake me up. My eyes fly open with last night’s memories.

  I’m in Romeo’s bed. With Romeo.

  Detangling myself quick as lightning, I paste my body to the wall with my knees still on the mattress.

  Below me, his face is soft in sleep, almost boyish. His beauty freezes me. I simply stare at him until his arm slowly sweeps across the bed as if searching for me.

  Shit.

  He’s going to wake up.

  Grabbing my top from the headboard, I leap over him and frantically search for my shoes while tugging on my shirt. One boot lies on the floor but the other one is nowhere to be seen. My head is almost under the bed and my fingers reaching for the boot—how the hell did it get so far back?—when Romeo softly says, “Riley?”

  Double shit. />
  “Yeah,” I say weakly, yanking the boot out.

  “You leaving?”

  His voice sounds confused. Because I’m leaving or if he’s still half asleep, I’m not sure. I don’t look at him rather plop down on the end of the bed. I could sit in the chair but then I’d have to face him. “I need to get home.”

  I hear him sit up. When his hand touches the bare skin of my shoulder and my body imagines it as a caress, the mortification rushing under my skin bursts. Underneath the mortification, the darker fear of rejection pulses. “I’m sorry about last night. About coming on to you. I…my ex wanted to get back together. Then I found Marcus and Chloe going at it and…between the alcohol and everything else, I just wasn’t myself. I was in shock. It was a messed up night. I was messed up on more than just alcohol.” Oh, hell yes. Score. If that wasn’t a perfect save face, it doesn’t exist.

  His hand drops with an echoing thud on the bed. “I thought you were waiting for Marcus and Chloe?”

  Oh, triple shit. “Naw.” I knot a lace. “I was kind of waiting for them to ah…finish?” I can feel my face burning. “Please don’t say anything about them.”

  “Why would I?” Tension tightens his tone.

  “I’m just saying. I’d be beyond embarrassed if they found out I knew.” I peek at him through my hair. His eyes are hard. His face tight. His mouth an angry thin line. My gaze finds my feet again. Is he really that pissed that I lied about Marcus and Chloe last night? “I’ve got—”

  “To get going,” he says sarcastically.

  At his tone, I’m desperate to escape. The turn of the lock sounds as I push off the bed.

  Romeo is up and past me in two seconds holding the door to a crack.

  “What the hell?” I hear Justin yell from the other side of the door.

  My hands slap against my cheeks. My eyes round. Justin is Romeo’s roommate?

  “I’m busy right now,” Romeo says into the crack.

  The skin under my hands burns.

  “What?” Justin says incredulously.

  “You heard me.”

  The door groans from a push. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “No. Give me a half hour.”

  “The last time I brought a girl—”

  “Just go!” Romeo says angrily before turning around and slamming his back against the door.

  My fingers dig into my cheeks as this new revelation threatens my spot in the band. “This can’t be happening.”

  Romeo smacks his head against the door and closes his eyes.

  My eyes shift to Justin’s messy side of the room. “You’re not going to tell him about last night, right?”

  His eyes snap open. “Yeah, because I want to destroy the band.”

  That hits a nerve because obviously Justin was out all night with somebody, but somehow I can’t be. Or maybe just not with Romeo. Or Sam. But the bigger problem would definitely be Romeo, who I was with all night. My hands finally drop. “Okay…um…we’ll just pretend last night never happened.”

  Romeo eyes narrow before he nods. Letting out a long sigh, he cracks the door. “He’s gone.” He opens the door wider and I fly out into the hall without a goodbye.

  Two knocks later, I’m collecting my stuff from all over his room while Marcus, still dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a I Love My Baby Bump t-shirt—his thing for collecting free t-shirts goes a little too far with that one—stands over me.

  “Where were you all night?” he demands.

  “I slept in my car.” He doesn’t know the keys were in my bag.

  “Huh?” He rears back from leaning over me. “I checked it early this morning.”

  “Must have been when I was on a walk. Bit hung over. Way too many shots.” Keeping my gaze on collecting my clothes strewn everywhere makes it easier to lie.

  “Why didn’t you respond to my texts?”

  “Phone must be on silent.”

  “Shit Riley.” He shakes his mop of a head. “Look at the thing once in a while. You had me worried like a sick bitch.”

  “Where’s Chloe?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

  “Left in the middle of the night.”

  “How’d she get home?” I ask since I was her ride.

  He shrugs, but tightly grips his neck from behind. “Must have called somebody when I was out looking for you.”

  Since he’s not being up front with me, I feel better about lying to him. Just a little.

  “Um Riley?”

  “What?” I snap, settling three heavy bags on my shoulder. Wanting to have options, Chloe packed way too much.

  “Your shirt’s inside out.” His expression is startled. “And backwards too.”

  Air rushes from my lungs as he stares at the tag above my chest. My face burns. Last night my lip was in tremble mode. Today my skin is in flame mode. My face needs to gain some damn control. Finally, I come up with a somewhat plausible excuse. “I used it for a pillow.”

  His frown is knowing. “Wouldn’t be much of a pillow.”

  “Better than nothing,” I say through clenched teeth.

  He nods, but the knowing gleam in his eye stays.

  ***

  Both slightly hung over, and with my mom and sister out on their usual Sunday afternoon library trip, Chloe and I decided to make it a pool lounging day. We rarely hang out at Chloe’s house. She and her single mother live in a tiny apartment. She’s always said she’s living it up at my house.

  My father has a decent job in an engineering firm, but we were never rolling in the dough. Now as the divorce looms closer, I wonder even if my father continues paying the mortgage, if my mother will be able to afford living in our two-story, four bedroomed home. Scared of a huge electric bill, she only ran the air conditioning this summer if the temperature hit over ninety. Though nowhere near ninety today, the sun is out and it’s hot for September.

  “What’s for dinner, Mom?” Chloe asks from under her hat. Long, white ribbons from the huge bow hang off the wide brim, over the back of her pool chair, and trail in the water.

  I take a long sip of ice tea before responding. “Mexican casserole. It’s in the crockpot.” I drag a foot through the pool water and rest my plastic glass on my bare stomach. Though it’s a two-piece, Chloe hates this suit and says the short-bottoms look like I should be out running instead of swimming. My opinion of her tiny suits is that she should stop getting them from Victoria-Slut-Secret. She finds my opinion amusing.

  “You and that stupid crockpot.”

  “I’d die without a crockpot and the Internet.” I let out a weak laugh. “I swear recipes are the only reason I go on the net anymore. But you just throw a bunch of stuff in and presto four hours later you have dinner.”

  “Ugh. Riley, you’re beyond butt-ass-lucky you joined that band because otherwise you’d be the most boring eighteen-year-old in the universe.”

  The band. The best and worst thing about my life lately. I’ve been holding in last night all day and waiting for her to tell me about Marcus, but she hasn’t brought it up. Needing to get out my own secret and hoping she’ll share too, I say, “Something happened last night.”

  She pushes the brim of her hat up. Her eyes are so wide her fake lashes rise above her plucked brows. “What? This better not be about Aaron.”

  I shake my head. I haven’t told her about that yet either. He’s been texting me all day. I’ve been erasing them without even reading. His words last night stabbed to death what we had together. I take a deep breath and blurt out, “I spent the night with Romeo.”

  Her mouth drops, her chair wobbles, and then splash! She’s under water and her hat is floating by me. I kick it back her way. Coming up, she spits out water and, “Holy shit! Are you trying to kill me?”

  What’s with everyone thinking I’m out to annihilate them lately? “Ah, no…just sharing my sexual escapade.” And hoping she’ll share hers too.

  Chloe never goes underwater. She wipes at her running makeup and slicks back her w
et platinum blonde hair with irritated hands. “You didn’t think telling me you had sex with Romeo might be a bit shocking?”

  “We didn’t have sex,” I grumble and fish out an ice cube from my tea.

  She stares at me then reaches for her chair. “How could you sleep next to that without going into attack mode? Did Aaron kill your sex drive with his lameness?”

  I’m not going to admit I did attack Romeo. I finish chewing the ice cube while she settles back into her chair. “We…things got a little heavy, but it’s complicated with the band thing. We work together and neither of us plans on repeating last night.”

  She wrings her hat out over the water. “So you don’t like him?”

  I blink at that. Do I like Romeo? Not so much. “I’m attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? But he’s still an asshole.”

  “Huh,” she says, plopping the wet hat on her head. “Never thought you’d be one to fall for the bad boy type.”

  “I’m not falling for him.”

  She raises a brow. “Is he a good kisser?”

  My eyes round at the memory of his lips on mine then him sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.

  She laughs.

  I chuck an ice cube at her.

  We float some more. She teases me. I chuck more ice cubes. But she never reveals whom she slept with last night. Though I’m betting there wasn’t much sleeping going on in that room.

  Chapter 12

  Between Kendra and Romeo, I’m starting to detest Mondays. Though my Ancient Roman History class Wednesday mornings is super boring, at least its drama free. However, dealing with Kendra is not as bad as dealing with Romeo. I’m dreading going to Calculus.