Losing You (Stars On Fire #4)

by Ryleigh Andrews

  “Does that smile mean you’re happy I’m back?” she asked with affectionate humor.

  He drew her into an easy embrace, her arms wrapping themselves around his waist, her head finding a place against his chest. His arms secured her to him, his hand on top of her head, smoothing her incredibly soft hair. Tenderly kissing the crown of her head, he inhaled the sweet scent of her flower-scented shampoo.

  “Yes, I’m very glad that you’re back,” he spoke quietly.

  Tilting her head, she peered at his face and he wondered what she saw as her eyes traveled over his face. Tom knew he was a good-looking guy but he had a feeling that wasn’t what she was looking for. He had a feeling she was searching to see if he was being honest. He had nothing to hide from her.

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek with her soft lips. “I missed my best friend more than I ever thought I could. Don’t ever let me leave you again. I can’t bear it without you.”

  Her words stunned him. How hard had life been for her these past years? Despite the warning his head screamed that he may be stepping over a BFF line, he bent and lightly brushed his lips against hers.

  “I won’t,” he promised, breaking the embrace. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. As much as he wanted to keep her all to himself, he knew he really should share. “Now on to two more people I think you’d want to see.”

  Tom headed to the fire pit where Ollie and Gwen were sitting. He hadn’t told them that Lizzie was in town nor had he told Lizzie that they were there because he had wanted it to be a surprise. He wanted to see their reactions to this.

  Gwen was the first to notice him. She started to smile but it froze when her eyes landed on Lizzie.

  “Holy fucking shit!” Gwen exclaimed.

  “Language, Gwennie,” Ollie remarked as he poked at the inflamed logs with a stick.

  “Lizzie?” Gwen said, ignoring the hated nickname Ollie used.

  Tom caught the huge smile on Lizzie’s face before she launched herself towards Gwen and his ears were filled with girl squeals followed by Ollie’s squeals of “Holy shit,” over and over.

  Surprise a success.

  Four high school friends reunited.

  After the excitement of seeing Lizzie died down a bit, the hurt came out. “It’s about fucking time you came home!” Gwen yelled. “Eight years, whore.”

  “I know,” Lizzie responded, properly chastised. “I’m here now.”

  “Good!” Ollie said, giving her a bear hug and kissing her cheek.

  “So, how are you guys? Fill me in!” Lizzie commanded.

  “Oh, he’s still the same ol’ Oliver,” Gwen responded, jerking her head towards Ollie. “Leaping from woman to woman faster than a gold-medal Olympic manslut.”

  “Gwennie, I’m surprised you saw that from behind your mountain of romance books.”

  One would swear that these two hated each other, but it’d been like that since high school and they still hung out, though as of late, the jabs had become more frequent and a little more personal. This volley on the milder side.

  Lizzie laughed and sat down on one of the chairs. Tom took a seat on the arm of her chair and the foursome chatted for a while, catching up and grilling Lizzie about life in Denver and her return to Chicago. Looking up, Tom’s eyes wandered over the party and he sighed when he saw Molly making her way to him. He didn’t want to deal with her now. She’d picked a bad time to finally show her face.

  “Pooh bear! There you are!” Molly sauntered up to his side, looping her arm with his, pressing her fake tits against his chest.

  Pooh bear? What the fuck?

  Tom quickly glanced down at Lizzie and Ollie and Gwen, all working hard not to laugh.

  “What have you been doing? I’ve been looking all over for you.” She purred, actually purred, but he caught the spark of dislike in Molly’s eyes instantly when they landed on Lizzie next to him. Tom shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t want a scene and set to defuse the situation.

  “Lizzie, will you be okay for a bit?”

  “Sure. I’ll just stay here and catch up with Ollie and Gwen. Have a blast, Pooh bear!” she said, winking at him.

  Goddamn it! That was gonna follow him around for some time to come.

  Marc

  Sluggishly walking up the front steps to his best friend’s house, Marc had one thought on his mind—Tom’s secret stash of Red Bull. He needed to wake the hell up. Last night . . . or was it this morning . . . he’d crashed hard when he’d rolled into his bed. To be honest, he was kind of surprised he’d even made it there after all he’d done at that party.

  When he woke up, he’d been so completely disoriented, he didn’t know what day it was, only this nagging feeling that he needed to be somewhere. He’d remembered in the middle of his shower—Tom’s party.

  Having hurried through the rest of his shower, Marc had gotten himself dressed in his standard jeans and t-shirt. Tonight he’d chosen an old school Last Star shirt . . . well, not that old school. Only from when the band had first started to perform shows . . . about five years ago.

  When he’d glanced in the mirror, the shirt still looked good. Him on the other hand . . .

  After dragging a hand through his damp hair in an attempt to style it, he’d left and had made the couple block walk to Tom’s.

  These parties as of late had been missing something . . . four somethings actually. Four of his closest friends. His childhood friends, Marty and Todd, his old co-worker, Mia, and his younger brother, Clark. Together, the four formed the band Last Star which just got signed to a record deal and were now in LA working on their debut album. Their dreams were coming true and Marc was beyond happy for them but he missed them.

  For years, he saw Mia every single workday and most weekends. The guys he’d known his whole life, and while Marty and Todd may not be related by blood, Marc considered them his brothers. He saw them at least every weekend. Now that they’d been gone for a few months, it was taking a bit to get used to not having them around all the time. He’d been branching out, meeting new people, but it was wearing on him. Those four had kept Marc out of his head . . . but now, that was becoming more difficult and he’d been waking up more and more often not remembering the night before or the bad flashbacks that had pushed him to the drugs in the first place . . . at least for a little while.

  Reaching the kitchen, he opened the fridge and opened the produce drawer and grabbed two hidden Red Bulls. Not the greatest hiding place, he thought, kicking the door shut as he opened the can and downed the contents.

  Tossing the empty in the recycle bin, Marc crossed the room to the back door and stepped out onto the patio. He quickly scanned the faces for Tom and found him over by the cooler. The other man noticed him and lifted his chin in acknowledgment. Marc returned the gesture and made his way to his remaining best friend.

  Marc hadn’t known Tom as long as the other guys but the moment they’d met he had known he’d found a friend for life. And when Mia entered the picture, it had been the six of them. A six-pack of best friends.

  All of them meant the world to Marc, each in their own unique way, but Tom . . . if he had to single one out as his ultimate best friend, Tom would be the one. Marc smiled at the thought and stuck out his hand to shake Tom’s.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?” Tom asked in greeting.

  “Not too much. Sorry I’m late. Had some trouble waking up today. So, how’s the party going?”

  “It’s one of my parties . . . it’s fucking great,” he answered, his gaze locked on his face and Marc knew Tom could easily figure out from his bloodshot eyes why he had difficulty waking up. Too much alcohol and drugs had a tendency to do that. He waited for the lecture that didn’t materialize. That’s fine. Not like he wanted one anyway.

  “An old friend of mine is here. I’d like to introduce you to her.”

  Marc’s eyes lit up. “Her? Mmm . . . I like the sound of this.”

  “Yes. A female. Has it been that lo
ng?” Tom asked good-naturedly.

  Marc jabbed him in the ribs. “Longer than I care to admit,” he responded.

  Lizzie

  “Let go, Foxy,” Lizzie said, pulling on the tug toy in the young dog’s mouth. The dog whipped her head back and forth, about yanking Lizzie from her seat. “Whoa, doggie,” she chuckled. She loved dogs but with her crazy job, it never seemed like a practical thing to do.

  Maybe now . . .

  Tonight, not only had she gained Tom back in her life, Lizzie had her other best friends from high school back. She could kick herself for letting so much time come between them or she could just go with it and be there now.

  Definitely the latter, she thought, watching Ollie sneak some ice down the back of Gwen’s shirt.

  “Oliver!” Gwen screamed and Lizzie laughed and turned her attention back to Tom’s dog.

  Tom had the life she wanted—being a part of a couple, a pet, friends. She hadn’t been the other half of a couple since . . . Lizzie glanced up when she heard crickets actually chirp. It’d been a long time. Maybe since college. Shit. Had it been that long? At least tonight brought her back to her friends—and it felt so nice.

  It would feel even better if she was spending time with Tom. Instead, he was being Pooh bear to Holly or whatever the hell her name was. Tom had a girlfriend and Lizzie didn’t know how to feel about it.

  “Lizzie.”

  Speak of the devil, she thought, looking in the direction of his voice. She tipped her head to the side as she regarded the sexy as hell man beside him.

  “I’d like to introduce you to a great friend of mine. Marc Kerr, this is Lizzie McCullough.”

  Dropping the dog toy, she extended her hand. “Marc, nice to meet you.” His touch sent warm shivers down her spine as he enveloped her hand in his. Looking up, she saw intense eyes the color of an overcast sky regarding her with what—she wasn’t sure. She’d never experienced that look before, and the feeling it gave her was quite intoxicating. She wanted more.

  “The pleasure is mine,” he replied, the underlying sensuality of his voice captivating her.

  All her focus was on his face. His piercing light blue eyes, his dark brown, wavy hair, his full lips flanked by two teasing dimples. Her eyes traveled over his strong body. He wasn’t stick skinny nor overly bulky . . . just manly. When her gaze returned to his face, she saw those dimples in full force, an amused expression on his face. That smile was totally worth the price of getting caught checking him out. Though she still blushed.

  Foxy dropping her toy on her feet along with a nudge of her head dragged Lizzie’s attention away from Marc.

  “Foxy,” Tom spoke, “Leave Lizzie alone.”

  “Arf!” the dog spoke back, pushing the toy closer to Lizzie with her nose.

  “Foxy, bring me the toy,” Tom ordered. The dog barked again, this time dropping it at Marc’s feet.

  “I see your dog is well trained, Tom,” Lizzie observed, laughing at Foxy’s antics.

  He playfully glared at her. “It’s because she’s showing off for you.”

  “I could leave . . .” she suggested, pretending to walk away.

  “Hell, no! I just got you back!” Tom exclaimed, pulling her soundly into his side.

  “How do you know each other?” Marc asked.

  “High school party many years ago,” Tom answered.

  “How’d you two meet?” Lizzie asked in return.

  “I met him while he was on a job site. I was there to interview the owner and we just hit it off,” Marc replied.

  “When was that?” she asked curiously.

  “Ninety-eight? Ninety-nine?” Tom answered.

  How had she not known about Marc? Eight years he’d been a part of Tom’s life and this was the first she’d heard of him and the guilt poured over her head like the slime on Nickelodeon when she was a kid. “Wow. A long time then,” she said, trying her best not to sound jealous because that’s what she was. Jealous of all the time Marc had been able to spend with Tom while she was alone in Denver, slaving over a stupid job, and she had no one to blame but herself.

  “Yeah,” Marc said. “He’s been the best.”

  Tom looked at Lizzie, eyes raised expectantly.

  “What?” she asked.

  “This is where you say, ‘Yeah, he is,’ or ‘I one hundred percent agree.’”

  “Oh . . . sorry,” she replied then turned to Marc. “So, what do you do, Marc?”

  “I’m a reporter,” he answered, but laughed when Tom bumped into her side with an exaggerated huff. Lizzie laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Definitely the best,” she said quietly.

  “Now, that’s more like it,” Tom said jovially, pulling her closer to his side and giving her a strong squeeze.

  Though she savored being up against her best friend’s side, her eyes were locked on the man in front of her. Marc had, with just a look, lit her body on fire, and she definitely wanted to explore that. Years without that feeling fueled that desire. Lizzie wanted him and the degree in which she did electrified her.

  “Pooh bear . . .” came the grating voice of Tom’s girlfriend in the distance.

  “Goddammit,” Tom grumbled, his body going tense.

  “Pooh bear?” Marc asked, chuckling at the name.

  “Fuck off,” Tom said with a laugh before turning to Lizzie. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m being summoned.” He motioned for Foxy to follow him and the pair left Lizzie alone with Marc.

  Neither of them spoke nor did they move. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was full of energy. The air hummed with it.

  Marc shook his head like he was trying to break free of something and then cleared his throat. “So, Lizzie, is that short for Elizabeth?”

  She nodded, still totally incapable of speech. His smile was lascivious in a way that had to be illegal somewhere. The more she regarded his lips, the more she saw it wasn’t really a smile. More like a sensual smirk full of confidence and that drew her to him and made her feel like a pile of putty waiting for Marc to do whatever the hell he wanted to her.

  “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked, motioning towards the swing. Somehow she managed to squeak out a “no.”

  He situated himself in the corner facing her, one of his long legs resting beneath him, the other on the ground, casually pushing the swing. Lizzie adjusted herself, tucking her legs beneath her and letting Marc do all the work. Their knees barely touched, but she felt the searing heat of his leg against her bare skin regardless.

  “Comfortable?” he asked, the intensity of his eyes burning a hole through her soul as he spoke.

  She nodded her head, snapping herself out of the spell he wove.

  “Good because I want to know everything about you and I’m not letting you go until I’m satisfied.”

  “Really? And what do I get in return?”

  “More than you can imagine,” he warned.

  Marc

  Lizzie may have been quiet and a little awkward, but Marc sensed the fire beneath the surface. He knew he got to her. He liked that knowledge . . . immensely. What he didn’t know was if it was as much as she got to him. She was a fucking knockout wrapped in a small package and he had this insane desire to unwrap her. And as they sat on the swing, talking and getting to know each other, it only grew. This had never happened to him—not to this degree. He’d be a fool not to explore it.

  Marc looked up and saw the bright moon high in the sky—when did it get so late? He felt like he’d only been talking to Lizzie for minutes not hours. Checking his watch for confirmation, he saw that it was indeed close to two in the morning. His eyes scanned the yard, and he saw only a few people on the deck. Everyone else had left.

  “Looks like the party’s over,” he said, his eyes returning to her. Unable to help himself, he lightly touched the soft skin of her knee with the tips of his fingers, feeling her flesh erupt with goose bumps.

  “It sure looks that way,” she agreed, smiling at him. He reall
y liked her bright and infectious smile. It took his breath away. He felt high. Was he? He didn’t think so, but whatever it was, it was so much better. With just a smile, he felt the tug on his heart and the increasing pressure in the front of his pants. It had been a long time since he’d experienced anything close to those feelings, and he didn’t feel like giving that up so easily.

  “It doesn’t have to be,” he offered, his roaming hand rubbing her thigh, wanting to continue higher.

  “I agree,” Lizzie stated, her head bent down, watching his hand on her leg. She lifted her gaze, looking him in the eye and her smile grew.

  “You do?” he exclaimed, his eyes widening, totally surprised. God, he was so out of practice. “I mean, of course you do. So . . . where should we continue the party?”

  “We can go to your place, if you’d like. I can follow you.”

  Marc couldn’t believe his fucking luck. This girl had him stammering like a nervous schoolboy, but he didn’t care. Lizzie wanted to go home with him.

  “That would be great. I only live a couple of blocks away.”

  “I’d like to say goodbye to Tom. If you could meet me out front . . . I’m the black Jeep,” she said. He nodded because that’s all he could manage. Elizabeth was going home with him. Placing her hand over the one he had on her thigh, she lifted it slightly as she rose from the swing. She kept their joined hands close to her so his hand rested on her lower belly, right above the waist of her tiny ass shorts. The ones his eyes kept falling to over the course of the night. The ones he couldn’t wait to strip from her body. He looked up and Lizzie gave him a smile that made him very glad he was sitting down. She then let his hand go and turned towards the house. Marc watched her walk away, appreciating the way her ass looked in those short as sin shorts. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on it.

  Tom