by Linda Kage
I winced, feeling his pain. “Sorry, I wanted to be out of here before you woke.” Shifting my weight from one bare foot the other, I bit my lip. “In case, you know, you regretted last night and didn’t want to see me.”
He stopped clutching his head and dropped his hands to his lap so he could look at me. When he said nothing, I shifted again, growing more uncomfortable than ever.
Looking up at the ceiling, I cleared my throat and asked, “So, do you? Regret it?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and I couldn’t handle the suspense so I shifted my gaze back to him. He wasn’t reassuring me, telling me he regretted nothing, so that had to mean he did. He must wish last night between us had never happened.
The tears and devastation moved in. I hoped I could keep them at bay long enough to leave before he saw any, but I also wanted to stick around another second in case, by some miracle, he decided to...I don’t know...forgive me, or something.
But then he went and admitted, “I’m not sure.”
I blinked, wondering at first if I’d heard him right. Then I shook my head.
Had he just said I’m not sure?
What the hell? I scowled, suddenly no longer crushed, but just plain pissed. But he wasn’t sure? Surely, he knew whether he regretted having sex with me or not. Hell, the only reason a nice guy like him wouldn’t be reassuring me by now had to be because he did regret it.
So, why didn’t he just grow a pair and tell me that already?
“You know,” I muttered, glaring hard, the pain and anger bringing out my sassy. “I realize I fucked up. Bad. I lied to you for over a month. I betrayed your trust. Hurt your feelings. And tricked you in the most horrendous way imaginable. And I am sorry for that. I regret it like hell. That last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. If I could take that back, I would, but...” I shook my head. “I don’t know if I’d do everything again differently a second time through. Because if I did, I would never have gotten to know you as well as I did. I never would’ve learned what an...amazing person you are. I...fuck, I wouldn’t have fallen for you as hard as I have. And I can’t regret that part. But I also can’t let you use my feelings and guilty conscience against me again. The next time you’re horny and want sex from me, it has to mean something. Got it?”
He drew in a tormented breath and ran his hand over his face as he averted his gaze. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I got it.”
“I’m going to go,” I said as I whirled around, but a strange empty spot above the stairwell opening caught my attention.
Frowning, I whirled back. “Where the hell is Mozart?”
His face shot up, and his expression crumbled. “He’s gone.”
Gasping, I staggered back a step. Clutching at my chest, I blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean gone?” The little critter had been so full of life, and Asher had taken good care of him. He couldn’t have just...died. Could he?
“I mean he’s fucking gone,” he snapped, scowling at me for pressing the subject. “I came home, his cage was open, and he was nowhere in the apartment.”
“But...” My brow wrinkled as I shook my head. That made no sense. “He’s a squirrel. There was no other way for him to get out of this apartment except through that doorway up there, and he couldn’t have opened that himself.”
“Well, then he must’ve gotten free when I was coming in or going out. I don’t fucking know.”
I sent him an I’m-not-buying-it glance. “And you don’t think you would’ve noticed him darting out between your legs when you opened the door?”
“I told you, I don’t know. I just know I came home, and he was gone.”
Chewing on my lip, I turned back to study the bare stretch of wall where Mozart’s cage had once hung. “I think someone else let him out.”
Asher let out a tired sigh. “Impossible. No one else has been here...except you.”
I turned back slowly. “It wasn’t me.”
With a scowl, he growled, “I know that. So, who are you suggesting broke into my apartment to—” When he saw the answer on my face, he groaned. “Oh, Jesus. Are you back on the conspiracy theory that my dad’s out to get me?”
“It makes sense,” I said defensively. And it did...to me.
“Why would he just let Mozart go instead of, I don’t know, killing him? And why—if he did all the other things you think he did—would he bother with such stupid irritating stunts when he could come at me with something so much more lethal, like a gun?”
“Because he’s a bully. Bullies chip and pick at scabs until they get to the meat of the wound underneath. They rarely come at you with an outright assault unless they know without a doubt they’re bigger and stronger and can take you. You’re not a seven-year-old kid any longer; he’s trying to find your weaknesses. And he probably didn’t outright kill Mozart because who the fuck could actually catch that wily little thing to kill him? Why bother even trying when it would be just as devastating for you to find him gone?”
And I could tell it was devastating for him. His green eyes went shuttered with pain as he glanced at the spot where Mozart’s cage had hung. It must’ve really upset him if he’d already taken the whole thing down...too painful to look at.
I hugged myself, glancing at the spot as well. “I hope he’s okay.”
Asher sniffed and shook his head. “He’s probably living it up in some nice park full of plenty of trees and nuts.”
Or he was dead, I silently worried.
Glancing at me with a scowl as if he’d read my thoughts, he muttered, “Thought you were leaving because you’re pissed at me.”
I sighed. “You’re the one who can’t decide whether you regret sleeping with me or not.”
His green eyes went flat with anger. “Oh, well, excuse me for a being a little confused. But you hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me, and that scares the fuck out of me. No one’s ever gotten that close to me with me being so completely unaware of it before. So I’m so sorry if it’s taking me longer than you’d like to figure out if I can really trust you again.”
I shrank inside myself a little, soaking in what he’d just said. I really had hurt him, and on top of that, I’d left him so gun-shy he wasn’t sure if he could trust again. I knew exactly how that felt. When Fisher had left me hurt and deceived, he’d broken my trust and trampled all over my feelings, making it so I didn’t want anything to do with any man again...until Asher had come along.
And yet here I was, doing the very same thing to the one person who’d helped me heal from a similar wound.
Feeling the full weight of my shame, I bowed my head. “You’re right. I’ll go.”
When I turned away, he growled a curse, then called, “Remy...” But I was already rushing up the steps to escape him.
To escape myself.
But no matter how fast I ran, or where I went, I was still there, with me...the bitch who’d wounded Asher Hart.
The urge to race after Remy and drag her back into my apartment festered. Damn it, she was probably crying right now, and I didn’t want that. I’d just wanted my head to stop pounding and a few minutes without questions and lifelong commitments to think clearly again.
Didn’t she understand I’d never been presented with the opportunity to love and be loved before? Not like this. It was scary-ass shit. And to know it had all started with a lie and broken trust...what guy in his right mind would give that another chance?
I guess a crazy, messed-up guy who just wanted his woman any way he could get her. Because a second later, I flung off my sheets and grabbed the first pair of pants I found—the dress pants from last night’s wedding. Fastening them, I raced for the steps. By the time I shoved my way into the alley, she was gone. All I caught sight of was the back bumper of her car as she turned out of the alley.
“Damn it!” I clutched my aching head, and shifted my bare feet over the dirty asphalt to keep broken glass from digging into my heels.
I was going to hav
e to hunt her down now, and I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. Guess I could start with confessing that I wasn’t regretful about last night at all. Last night had been...awesome. But I’d been pissed that she’d tried to sneak out on me again, and I was still finding it difficult to let go of all her lies.
Pick had been right, though. I was going to have to forgive her, because I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life without her. Last night had opened my eyes to the fact that I did know her. She might’ve deceived me about a couple big things, but inside, she was still that person who’d befriended me, and I wasn’t ready to lose that friend...or lover.
Blowing out a breath, I ran my hands through my hair and turned to re-enter the apartment. I needed to put more clothes on, maybe take a few painkillers and drink about a gallon of water before I chased her down. But before I could step back inside a strange, animal-like chatter from a nearby dumpster made me pause and glance over.
I expected to see a rat, so when a bedraggled-looking squirrel with hair matted so badly even its tail wasn’t bushy darted out from under the dumpster, I nearly pissed myself.
“Wha...Mozart?”
It must’ve been him because he raced straight for the opened door and sprang inside, leaping down the steps to disappear into my apartment.
“Holy shit,” I gasped. My pet had come home.
Emotion swamped me, and I raked a shaky hand over my face before I hurried downstairs to get him something to eat. Life on the outside must not have treated him kindly because he shook as if cold or scared. I wanted to grab him and cuddle him close, but I knew he wouldn’t like that. So I rushed to my kitchen cabinets and emptied a whole bag of peanuts onto the floor. He didn’t even care that I remained right there next to the pile. He rushed forward and started filling his hands before breaking one open and eating it right there.
“Poor little guy,” I murmured, getting to my feet so I could get him some water. “It was tough out there, wasn’t it?”
A smile lit my face as I watched him for a minute before he decided this was enough bonding, and he disappeared under the bed. Then I blew out a shaky breath and glanced around my apartment before laughing in utter relief. “Welcome home, buddy,” I said aloud, but the place was still lonely enough that my voice echoed around me. It made the empty little hollow part in me pang with need.
The first person I wanted to call was Remy. Hell, she was the only person I wanted to call and tell.
And that told me everything, right there.
So, she’d lied. She’d had a reason and it had never been to hurt me. She’d apologized and was truly sorry. I could get over that. Because, fuck, I loved her.
Accepting that almost instantly sparked this freeing sensation inside me. Joy rippled along my skin, and I tore off my pants to take a quick shower.
I was going to get her back.
After I cleaned myself up, I dressed, pulled on my shoes, and pocketed my phone. Making sure Mozart was still content and under the bed, I straightened from the floor and headed for the door.
Remy Elisa Curran, here I came.
Ten minutes later, I pulled up to her apartment building and killed the engine of my bike as I remained seated, just...staring at her place. I’d kind of run over here without a game plan. She’d gone all epic and put herself out there, singing songs to me in front of hundreds of people to get me back, and all I knew to say to her was, “I don’t regret it.”
Wincing over my own lameness, I was kind of tempted to chicken out, start my Triumph and head back home. I had no experience in love. What if I freaking failed? What if giving her—us—a chance ended up slaying me?
And what if I was so scared of the pain that I missed out on the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me? Clenching my teeth, I leapt off the seat and strode to her building. I had until the second story to boost my resolve, and I spent most of that time breathing like some kind of fighter ready to hop into a ring for his first round of blows.
Things had ended up good between Pick and me. Things could end up good here, too. And strangely, it felt as if I were once again risking everything important in my life just to build a relationship with someone. But this girl was worth it.
When I reached her door, I shook my hands out at my sides before lifting one to knock. Before my knuckles could meet wood, however, the door flew open, inward, making me jump back in surprise.
I expected Remy to be there, so I blinked in confusion when Gally stepped into the hall. He was so busy buckling his belt together, he was almost upon me before he realized I was in his path. Pulling up short, he yanked his head up.
“Oh, hey, man.” A smug, just-got-laid grin spread across his face. “Finally decide to end your dry spell? Right on!” He lifted his fist to bump with me in congratulations just as another band member—Holden—stepped from Remy’s apartment behind him, tugging on his shirt.
My mouth fell open as I gaped between the two. “What...?”
But seriously...what?
Gally laughed while Holden turned a bright red. Finally, my bass guitarist shrugged. “What can I say? The girl can’t get enough cock. She likes it best when every hole is filled.”
Snickering, he slugged the side of his arm against mine as if sharing some kind of inside joke. But all I could taste was acid, and all I could see was a blurry mass of light.
“Don’t worry, Hart,” Gally’s voice irritated my ears. “We got her nice and hollowed out for you. Have fun.”
I didn’t stop to think it through. I don’t think it was possible to even contemplate thinking at the moment. I just wanted to hurt the idiot bastard. Make him bleed and scream and ache deep inside...the way I ached.
With a savage roar, I dove at him, shoving him against the wall. “You’re dead, asshole. I can’t believe you touched her. She fucking hates you.”
I popped him in one eye and would’ve gone for the other, but Holden yanked me backward off him.
That only pissed me off more. I tried to hit him too, but he used my own tactic against me and pinned me to the wall and pressed his forearm to my throat to subdue me.
I struggled, shoving and pushing at him to get off me, but the bastard was bigger, which made me growl in frustrated rage. If I could just have the size of Knox or Quinn, or even Noel, I so would’ve taken him down right then.
Calling forth some inner-adrenaline booster, I heaved at him again, making him stumble backward, away from me. About to leap after him, I jarred to a halt when I heard a voice—Remy’s voice—cry, “What the hell?”
But it wasn’t coming from the direction of her apartment. Whipping my head up, I gaped at her where she stood poised and frozen at the top of the stairwell, still wearing the dress she’d been in last night and clutching a steaming Styrofoam cup to her chest. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but her hair was pleasantly mussed—from me having my hands in it the night before—and she was so fucking beautiful, I took a second just to catch my breath.
Behind us, the door to her apartment opened. When I glanced over and saw Jodi peek curiously into the hall, wearing nothing but a short, silky wrap that was tied loosely enough to reveal she wasn’t wearing much underneath, I closed my eyes and cursed under my breath.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” the girls demanded, nearly simultaneously.
“Ask that fucker,” Gally answered, and I could tell he was pointing at me, but I was still too busy bowing my head in shame and berating myself for my stupidity to actually see it. “He’s the douche who attacked us for no reason as soon as we stepped into the hall.”
A second’s worth of silence followed, letting me know everyone was now looking at me, waiting for my explanation.
Then Remy had to go and murmur, “Asher?” as if she were actually concerned about me.
“Damn it,” I hissed and lifted my face, meeting her gaze, and wincing as soon as I did. “I...” Fuck, I couldn’t confess it. But her big brown eyes were so wide and worried. I blew out a
breath and admitted, “I...misread the situation.”
She blinked, crinkled her brow, then glanced between Gally, Holden, and Jodi before her eyes flared with surprise. Then she whirled back to me, scowling. “Are you fucking serious?”
I winced and pressed my hand to my aching head. Shit, I’d forgotten to take painkillers for my hangover. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I immediately started, pushing all the guilt and apology into my expression that I could manage. “I wasn’t thinking. Shit. They came out of there still dragging their clothes on.”
Eyebrows arching, she set her hands on her hips. “So you just assumed they were in there visiting me? Really? Wow, that must’ve been a two-minute threesome since I just saw you, what, twenty minutes ago.”
I opened my mouth to deny my kneejerk assumption, but damn...she was right.
Not knowing when to keep his mouth shut, Gally swaggered forward, licking his lips as he eyed Remy’s dress. “That’s actually not a bad idea. You’re looking a lot better than you did a few days ago...Remy. Why don’t you show Holden and me the inside of your bedroom now?”
When he took one more step toward her, I growled and shoved him back. “Back the fuck off.”
His eyes narrowed, and I knew he would’ve charged, so I turned to him fully to take him on. But Remy popped between us, pushing a hand against my chest, and holding up one in Gally’s direction to ward him off.
“Okay, enough,” she commanded. When Gally and I both stopped, she blew out a breath, cursed something in Spanish, and muttered, “Why are guys so freaking punchy?”
I kind of liked that she’d yet to take the flat of her hand off my chest. So I said, “Because it’s a hell of a lot faster stress reliever than eating ice cream or talking smack about another chick like you girls do.”
She glanced at me, her brown eyes wide with so many emotions. I detected humor in there before she scowled and then shuttered it all up with grief. “So not the time to be sexist and cute,” she finally muttered.
