She swallowed down a rising sense of panic. What was he up to? What was he playing at?
Nothing good.
She was dimly aware of Camille’s goodbye as she and Drew stared one another down. The stare lasted so long, it stopped being a stare. It started being something more. Something deeper, more meaningful. For a moment, it was like old times when she knew they were on the same wavelength. Their brainwaves and heartbeats in perfect synch.
“How was my performance?”
His words brought her out of her reverie and she blinked up at him. “What?”
He leaned in and for one heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. “You wanted me to make Jessie jealous, right? How’d I do?”
It wasn’t so much his words that affected her so much as his tone. The venom in his voice was unmistakable. His eyes were suddenly filled with disgust, and for the life of her she couldn’t tell if that disgust was aimed at her, or himself, or maybe both of them. Shame and guilt came on her so quickly she nearly drowned. “I-I,” she started. Taking a step back, she tried again. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”
It was a blatant lie and they both knew it. The moment the words were out, she felt heat creeping into her cheeks. Shit. She’d never been any good at lying, and she’d never even tried with Drew before. She’d assumed it would be pointless because he knew her so well.
He was openly laughing at her as he signaled to the waitress for another drink. She looked around desperately for Lena. Last she’d seen her, Lena had been dancing with some guy who towered over her and was covered in tats. Now, she was nowhere to be seen.
“Running away again?” he taunted.
The heat in her cheeks turned excruciating. She knew exactly what he was referring to. That night. The reality of what he was trying to tell her had been too much. Too many emotions had descended on her all at once. She didn’t know what to make of it. He’d been her best friend. And she’d had a boyfriend. Who was Drew’s other best friend. There had been too much to process and all eyes had been on her. She’d panicked.
She’d run.
Even after he chased her down to the sidewalk out front of the karaoke bar, she’d ignored his pleading, shouted out something incoherent about how he’d ruined everything, and hopped in a taxi, leaving him there to face Jessie and their other friends.
Then Jessie had broken up with her. And then there was graduation to contend with, along with a broken heart to nurse. It had all been too much.
When she’d finally come to her senses and realized that she and Drew needed to talk about what had happened, he’d been the one to shut her out. The ladies’ room is that way.
It had been a lame deflection back then and the fact that he’d said it while cozying up to another anonymous chick…
Anger started to rise up alongside the shame. She jabbed a finger into his chest, trying desperately not to notice how hard that chest was beneath his T-shirt. “You should know, right? It’s not like you gave me much of a chance.”
Her finger was still pointed at his chest and when he took a step forward, anger darkening his eyes, he pressed himself against her finger. She dropped her hand so she wouldn’t be distracted by his body, but now she was defenseless. He was in her space. So freakin’ close she could smell his soap and was fairly certain she was growing tipsy from the whiskey fumes. He leaned in further and her helpful memory brought up a vivid sense memory of just how delicious it had felt to be crushed up against that chest.
Focus. She was angry, damn it.
“And what would you have said if I’d welcomed you with open arms?” His eyes were filled with an unfamiliar malicious glint that made her shiver. Clearly he was pissed too.
At least he hadn’t tried to pretend like he didn’t know what she was talking about. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to create a new barrier between them. “You were an asshole that night at the bar. I wanted to talk, make things right—”
“What did you want to talk about?” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving hers as they mocked her.
She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You know what.”
“I really don’t.”
She pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to talk about this. Not now. Not anymore. There was nothing to say. “I was hoping we could save our friendship.” She blinked in surprise at the depth of emotion that slipped out with those words. If he was affected by her words, it didn’t show.
“Save our friendship,” he repeated slowly. “Kind of like how you and Jessie managed to stay friends?”
“Exactly.”
His eyes were too knowing. Too all-seeing. It was discomforting, especially because it had been so long since she’d been in the same room with him. Had it always been like this? Had he always seen right through her?
Yes. She didn’t have to think about it. It was what had made them bond so quickly. He’d seen her—really seen her—even when she was faltering to find herself as a naïve freshman. Maybe he’d even helped her to find herself.
And right now, that epic bond had come back to bite her in the ass. There was no way she could lie to herself around this guy, so she admitted the truth. That maybe she and Jessie weren’t friends. Not really. A year had passed and she couldn’t look at him without thinking about all the hopes and dreams she’d shared with him and all the ways he’d let her down. “Okay, fine. So it’s not the easiest thing, being friends with someone you love—loved,” she corrected quickly.
Not quickly enough.
She caught his flinch and saw the flicker of something dangerously close to pain in his eyes before he looked away with a mocking smile. “No, I don’t imagine it is,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t want to talk that night when you deigned to speak to me after running away and shutting me out.”
The bitterness in his voice felt like a punch in the gut. For a second, the air was knocked out of her lungs as the full force of what he was saying hit her. “So, what are you saying?” she said, her voice hoarse from unshed tears. “Our friendship wasn’t worth fighting for?”
She thought she saw a flicker of pain, regret maybe. But then it was gone and his eyes revealed nothing. His smile became a smirk as he leaned down so his breath was warm against her cheek. “It wasn’t your friendship I wanted, Livvy. I wanted more. You know that.”
She stared at him. I wanted more. Her heart raced in her chest. Of course she’d known that. But knowing that and hearing him say it out loud—with real words and not a Rick Springfield song—it took on a whole new meaning. “Oh.”
She tried to come up with more, but “oh” would have to suffice. That was all her stunned brain could conjure. Oh.
Oh, indeed.
Her world flipped upside down before righting itself just as quickly. Her breathing grew erratic, her hands shook.
“Relax, Livvy, I said wanted, as in past tense.”
Oh.
Disappointment slithered through her veins. No, not disappointment. Confusion, that was all. She was riding an emotional roller coaster here.
“So y-you’ve changed your mind?” she managed. She should be grateful. If he didn’t want more maybe he wanted their friendship back. And that’s all she wanted…wasn’t it? That’s what she’d been missing so badly this past year. Her best friend. But maybe it was impossible to get that back. Maybe their friendship had suffered too much.
So what then? What did she want if she couldn’t have him as her best friend?
Despite what she’d just said, she couldn’t imagine having the sort of fake pretense of a friendship that she currently had with Jessie. Seeing Drew and pretending to be friends might be even more painful than not seeing him at all. But were those the only options?
That thought was too depressing to contemplate.
He studied her for a moment, his eyes unreadable. At what point had he become so damn inscrutable while he could still read her like a book?
He stil
l hadn’t answered but maybe the answer was obvious. Clearly he’d changed his mind about wanting her. Which was fine. It was good. She was glad. It wasn’t like she’d thought Drew had spent this past year pining over her, not when he could have any woman he wanted. He’d probably gotten over his crush, or whatever it had been, before graduation day.
Instead of outright answering her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her close. She let out a little yelp at the sudden move, and barely refrained from whimpering at the full body contact. He pressed against her, his heat warming her and making her achingly aware of her body and the places where it molded to his.
He wasn’t kissing her, wasn’t touching her inappropriately. It wasn’t so different from the bear hugs he used to give her. Except that it was different. There was nothing friendly about this embrace.
God, it had been too long since she’d gotten laid. Surely that was why her body was currently heading into sexual overdrive at this contact. That was the only explanation for the fact that she was so turned on she could barely hear the music over the sound of her heartbeat.
His head came down toward hers and this time she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t see it coming. She knew what was going to happen but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Her lips parted even before his mouth closed over hers. She opened for him as he picked up that kiss exactly where he’d left off.
This time there was no audience, just them. For a moment there, Livvy even lost track of herself. Her ever-constant inner monologue grew silent, the critical voice shushed by the euphoric haze of sweaty desire that made a mockery of her plans and expectations for this evening. This was unexpected.
And it was fucking fantastic.
When he lifted his head, it felt way too soon. She found herself clinging again, this time her hands were buried in his shaggy brown hair at the base of his neck. Her breathing was coming in pants.
He pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands. He kept her chin tilted up so she couldn’t look away. She felt the loss of his arms around her severely.
His eyes were smoky, dark with lust, but just as indecipherable. There were emotions there, swirling beneath the surface, but she couldn’t place them. What did he see in her eyes? Desperation, probably. That’s how she felt—desperate.
She tried to tell herself it had just been too long since she’d been intimate with someone. This was just an overdose of hormones, that was all. But her body begged to differ. It was reacting to Drew, plain and simple. Jesus, she’d never realized that they had such good chemistry. Like, off-the-charts, sparks-and-fireworks kind of electricity.
Holy shit.
Maybe he saw her awe and wonder, or the burgeoning confusion about what this meant, or any of the other emotions that were fighting for supremacy in her jumbled state. Whatever he saw, it made him laugh softly. It was a laugh she remembered—his self-deprecating chuckle. One that made him so much more human and epically adorable. It was the laugh that gave away his insecurities and marred the unflappable rocker boy image he’d perfected way back in high school.
He ran a thumb softly over her lower lip and she gasped for air, audibly and perhaps a bit melodramatically.
“I guess the real question is, what do you want from me?” he asked.
She stared up at him in stunned silence. She didn’t need a mirror to know she resembled a deer in headlights.
The question shouldn’t have been a difficult one. She wanted her friend back. That’s what she’d been desperately hoping for. But her tongue felt stuck in her mouth. That was the answer she would have happily given a year ago when she’d tried to talk to him at the bar. It was the answer she would have given earlier that night, before he’d gone and kissed her.
Before he’d fucking rocked her world with a simple kiss.
So now…what did she want?
Sex.
That was the obvious answer, the one her wet panties could never deny. But her brain clicked into gear at the thought. Sex with Drew meant being another notch in his bedpost, which was the one thing she’d never wanted.
He’d made it clear that he’d moved on from the idea of wanting more with her. He’d never been one for relationships to begin with, she’d always known that about him. From day one it had been loud and clear in his demeanor and his words. He’d never tried to hide the fact that he was a player. He lived for the thrill of the chase.
It had been clear to her from the first moment his eyes had met hers during that fateful karaoke performance. For a second her heart had stopped. Time had stopped. The world had come down to Drew on that stage singing that ridiculous song, and what that meant.
He wanted her.
But then her brain had clicked into gear and it had been so obvious. The only reason he’d thought he might want more with her was because she was the one woman he couldn’t have. And now that she was single, he’d moved on. Of course he had.
His eyes were boring into hers as he waited for her answer. It seemed like she’d been silent for a lifetime. “I want…” She realized as she was speaking that there was only really one possible answer. “I want to be friends again.”
His stance didn’t change and his eyes remained the same stormy enigma. But something about him shifted. The air between them lightened and cold, stark reality was thrust into her face.
His hands dropped from her face and he took a step back so they weren’t touching. “That’s too bad, princess. That’s the one thing I can’t do.”
He walked away. Just like that. Like that epic kiss hadn’t just happened…twice. Like he hadn’t just taken her heart out of her chest and crushed it.
Like he’d forgotten about her all over again.
After several moments of staring after him, she lost him in the crowd. Only then did she snap out of it.
She would not cry at a club.
She was done crying over Drew. Or Jessie. Or Camille, for that matter.
She was done.
Straightening her spine, she did a cursory glance around the room for Lena but came up empty. A crushing weight on her chest made the decision for her. She’d text Lena from a cab. For now, she had to get out of there.
Cold air hit her in the face as she walked out of the club. Hailing a cab, she climbed in and gave her address through frozen lips. Everything about her was frozen as she texted Lena a simple message saying she’d had to run and that she’d call her in the morning.
It wasn’t until she was crossing the bridge into Brooklyn that the pain set in. Despite her earlier resolve, the tears came and they came hard.
Aside from the pain, her chest felt empty. Like when she’d walked away from the bar, she’d left her heart behind.
Chapter Five
Drew nursed his bloody mary, wincing as Avery slammed a cupboard door in the kitchen. When she came out of her little kitchen and caught his miserable expression, she gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Maybe it’s time you slow down on the drinking.”
He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.” But she was right, and he knew it. That week he’d gone out harder than he had all year. He’d been hellbent on drinking away the pain he’d felt when Livvy had rejected him…again.
Avery fell onto the couch beside him. “Word on the street is that you and Liv are going to the wedding of the century together.”
He stared at his drink resolutely. He’d gone all week without talking about her, or that stupid wedding, or the glorious disaster of a kiss. “This ‘street’ you mention. It wouldn’t happen to go by the name Kimmie, would it?”
Avery pursed her lips, trying not to smile. Then she fell back against the pillows with a laugh. “Yeah, okay, fine. Camille told Kimmie, who told me and—”
“And you told the rest of the city,” he finished.
She punched his arm but didn’t try to deny it. One thing he loved about Avery, she owned her flaws. She was the first to admit that she was a shameless gossip. The petite brunette didn’t have a mean bone in her body but she
would do anything for a good scoop. “Have you ever considered going into journalism?” he asked. “Celebrity news, possibly?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t try and distract me, Drew. You and me, we both suffer from unrequited love. It’s kinda our thing. So spill.”
Unrequited love. That was one way of putting it. Fucking hell was how he preferred to label his particular disease. A disease he’d thought he’d thoroughly expunged until it popped back up in his life like the Spanish influenza of feelings.
When he didn’t speak, Avery continued. “Seriously, Drew. I heard there was kissing. Am I the only one left in the friend zone?”
He flinched at the reminder of that kiss. Those kisses. Those were the memories he’d been actively trying to kill from his mind. He had a sort of twisted logic that if he killed enough brain cells with booze, surely those memories would be part of the massacre. Avery waited patiently. He ignored her for all of three seconds. But she was right. If there was anyone in the world who could understand this particular circle of hell, it was her.
He told her everything, including but not limited to Livvy’s lie that started the whole nightmare. He finished by telling her what he’d said before walking away. That he didn’t want to be her friend. What bullshit. He’d missed her friendship every day of every month over the past year. He wanted her friendship so badly it hurt. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Being in her life but not the love of her life would never be enough. Being her friend would be a slow, agonizing death for him. But Livvy wouldn’t understand that. She’d made the choice to stay friends with Jessie so she couldn’t possibly understand. But Avery…she got it.
After a moment of stunned silence, Avery whistled. “Whoa.”
“Yeah.”
He risked a glance and saw that she was giving a pitying look that made him cringe. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” He took a sip of the drink and awaited her verdict. Out of all his friends—the ones he had left, these days—Avery was the only one who truly understood his predicament. She should because she was in the same boat. The only difference was, she was pining over her best friend, Kimmie, who happened to be a girl and, unlike Avery, happened to be into boys.
The Plus One (Starting From Zero Book 3) Page 6
