by E. M. Abel
“Don’t you want to come inside?” I asked, making my intentions clear as I let my eyes rake over him.
“You have no fucking idea how badly I want to, Sky…but I shouldn’t.”
I stepped back into his space, making sure to graze the erection trying to burst through his pants. His breath shuddered, and I looked up into his hooded gaze.
“Why not?”
“Because I…” He paused, taking a deep breath, as I leaned forward to kiss his neck. “Fuck. You aren’t playing fair.”
“Who said I had to?”
Logan’s hands came up and gripped my hair, pulling my head back. He stared into my eyes before pressing his mouth down on mine again. I moaned as his tongue explored, his teeth clamping down on my bottom lip. I was so fucking wet and turned on, I brought my body closer, searching for some relief, but before I could find it, he pulled away again. He shoved his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
“I want to know you, Sky. Not just your body. I want to know this,” he said, pressing the palm of his hand over my heart. I was sure he could feel how fast and hard it was beating. “I want to do this right and slow things down.”
His words were sobering, and I swallowed as the reality of my situation sank in. Logan was standing in front of me, asking to have my heart again.
No fucking way.
I might be willing to share my body with him again, but I couldn’t give him that.
We both stood there, panting, his hand still on my heart, as I fought the urge to scream at him. I wanted to get him out of my system, get my revenge, and get on with my life. Yet here I was, half-naked, begging him to fuck me.
What is wrong with me?
I took a step back and tried to slow my breaths. I felt like an idiot—and a rejected one at that. I’d thrown myself at him, and he’d turned me down. After everything he’d done to me and everything he’d put me through, I was still letting him win.
Turning away from him, I quickly picked up my dress and started to pull it back on.
“Hey. Please don’t be upset, Sky. Fuck, this is all my fault. I should’ve shown more self-control, but you’re …” He wrapped his hand around my arm. “Look at me, please.”
I closed my eyes, feeling the sting of tears and trying desperately to hide them. This was not what I’d wanted. He was supposed to be hurting. Not me. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my back and made sure my cold mask of indifference was in place before finally turning to face him. Disappointment marked his features as he recognized my lack of emotion.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“No, it’s fine. Really. Thank you for dinner. I had a good time.”
“Sky, forgive me, please. I can’t leave like this.”
“Really, there’s nothing to forgive,” I said, giving him my best fake smile. “It was a nice date.”
“It was better than nice. It was the best date, and I ruined it. I’m sorry.” He took my hand, and I felt my coldness weakening. Lowering his head to look deeper into my eyes, he said again, “I’m sorry. Please say you forgive me. Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
My mask began to melt away as a small grin curved my lips, and he smiled at the sight.
Fuck me and my undying need for affection.
“I really like you, Sky. Like, really, really, like you.”
I laughed, and he let go of my hand to put his arms around my waist and pull me close.
“Will you go out with me again, please?” He pushed out his lower lip.
I smiled but lowered my gaze to stare at his chest. I was giving him too much power, and it wasn’t safe. I had to remember who he was. What he’d done.
Lifting my eyes back to his, I murmured, “Maybe.”
But that didn’t discourage him.
He simply kissed me on the cheek and took a step back before lifting my hand to kiss my knuckles. “I’ll call you.”
I stood there and watched as he turned around and walked out of my apartment.
“What the fuck just happened?”
DILLON
I spent most of Monday thinking about Natasha as I tore down walls in an old building Matteo and I were renovating downtown. Natasha and I had spent a couple of hours on the phone the night before, and besides Sky, she was the only woman I’d ever done that with.
We’d talked about everything—from our families to our favorite music. I’d discovered where she’d gotten her exotic features. Her father was black, like mine, and her mother was half-Chinese and half-Native American. She’d grown up in Florida and moved to New York a few years ago to pursue her modeling career. Unlike my parents though, hers were still together, and her father was very involved in her life. He was a successful lawyer, and she’d had a lot of privileges I’d never experienced. She also had some pretty great success in her career, modeling in fashion shows around the world and even being featured in Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar magazine.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling a little inadequate although she never made me feel that way—quite the contrary actually. Natasha had spent a good amount of time gushing over my voice and telling me how shocked she was that I hadn’t signed any record deals.
She was sweet, and I liked her. We had plans to go out for dinner tonight.
“What the fuck is up with you today?” Matteo asked, tossing some old Sheetrock onto the floor beside me.
Blinking, I turned to notice him for the first time since we’d started. “What?”
“You’re, like, in la-la land over here or somethin’. Are you thinking about your song? Have you made any progress on it?”
I shook my head. “Nah.”
“Then, what is it? You finally bang Sky?”
“No, man. What the fuck? Why are you so obsessed with that?”
He shrugged, pulling the dust mask off his mouth and pushing it below his chin. “I just don’t get it. A man and a woman can’t be friends—at least, not best friends. When you were kids maybe but not once you hit puberty.”
“So, what are you saying? We’re faking it? We aren’t really best friends?”
“Or you really want to be more, but you’re both too chickenshit to admit it.”
I shook my head, pulling my mask off, too. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Our moms are best friends, and we grew up together. That’s it. I care about her, and she cares about me. We’re practically family.”
“Yeah, but you’re not, and she’s fucking hot. Do you guys paint each other’s toenails and have sleepovers and shit? Is there something you need to tell me? Maybe you secretly have a crush on me instead.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. I mean, look at me,” he said, holding his arms out to display his ragged cargo pants and old T-shirt, both covered in dirt and dust.
I put my mask back on to keep working. I didn’t know why I even bothered.
“So, why don’t you hook us up then? I see the way she checks me out!” he shouted as I slammed my hammer into another wall.
“If you want her so bad, why don’t you just ask her out?”
“I don’t want to step on any toes. Want to make sure you’re not secretly in love with her first. Bros before hos and all that.” Matteo picked up his sledgehammer and smashed it into another wall.
“How thoughtful,” I deadpanned.
“So, if it’s not music and it’s not Sky, then why are you so distracted?”
I kept working, considering if I wanted to say anything. I wasn’t one to share my business with people. Sky was the only person I really talked to, and that was because she forced me.
“Oh, it’s like that?” he asked, resting his hammer on the floor beside him.
“What?”
“You don’t trust me? We spend every day together. I tell you every detail of my life, and you sit there, listening and never telling me shit.”
“Well, maybe if you’d ever shut up…”
He flicke
d me off and hit his wall again.
“I’m going on a date tonight, and I was thinking about where I should take her.”
“I’m not sure about tonight, but you should invite her to the show on Thursday. Bitches love it when you sing.”
I chuckled. “She’s already seen me sing.”
“Ah,” he said, as if he’d been let in on a secret.
“What?”
“She’s a fangirl then.”
“No. She didn’t even recognize me until I told her I sang.” I paused for a minute, contemplating if I should say more. “She’s a model…a successful one. I’m guessing she’s accustomed to a certain type of guy, a certain type of lifestyle, and I’m not sure I can…meet her expectations.”
Matteo nodded in understanding. He was quiet for a few minutes as we both continued with our work.
When we stopped hammering to move the debris into a pile, he straightened his back and looked me in the eye. “Find a woman who’s too good for you and then become a better man for her.”
I stood there for a second, taking in his words. I was a little shocked by their wisdom. “Damn, man. That’s deep.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, someone posted it on Facebook the other day.”
Laughing, I shook my head. Figures.
Later that night, I stood at Natasha’s apartment door, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. It was a lot like the feeling I would get before going onstage. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d crushed on someone like this. Taking a moment to check my black button-down shirt and pick off a piece of lint, I finally straightened my back, cleared my throat, and knocked.
A few seconds later, the door opened with Natasha standing on the other side in a little black dress. I took my time looking at her—sexy black heels, smooth and toned legs, nice hips, trim waist, perky and round breasts that could easily fit into my hands. By the time my eyes reached her face, a seductive smile was curving her pink lips.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, wanting to tell her she was beautiful but wishing I had something more original to say.
She’d probably heard those words so much that they’d lost their power.
“You’re breathtaking,” I told her instead, hoping it might separate me from the rest.
Her cheeks grew pink, like her lips, and she glanced at the floor before peering up at me with a shy smile. “Thank you.”
“Shall we?” I asked, turning and holding out my arm for her.
Reaching back to grab her small purse and keys, she pulled the door closed behind her and slipped her arm through mine. “We shall.”
About an hour later, Natasha and I were sitting in an expensive Italian restaurant, the candle between us highlighting her smile and golden eyes. She had the type of face songs were written about.
“You make me feel shy. I’m not used to feeling shy,” she admitted as she reached for her wine.
I grinned, a little surprised by her candor. “Why is that?”
“I’m not sure. I think it’s the way you look at me.” She took a sip as our eyes locked. “You don’t just look. You pay attention. I like it.” She smiled. “So, tell me about yourself, Dillon. I feel like I told you my entire life’s story last night, but I didn’t learn much about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well…I know you grew up in Maryland, but what brought you here? Are you close with your parents? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I leaned back in my seat. “That’s a lot of questions.”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.”
I chuckled.
“Wait. Do that again.”
“What?”
“Smile.”
I smiled, and her gaze drifted over my face, taking it in. “You have dimples. Man, I thought you were hot before, but when you smile, it’s pretty incredible. You should do it more often.”
“Yeah?” I took a sip of water.
“Definitely.”
A few seconds and sparks passed between us, grins curling our lips.
“What did you ask again?”
Natasha giggled, and I felt my lips lift a little higher.
“What brought you to New York?”
“Ah, yeah. Well, I grew up in the projects, and I knew I didn’t want to stay there. My best friend and I decided that, once we both graduated, we’d pack up what we had and move to New York to chase our dreams. We moved here about four or five years ago and have been chasing them ever since.”
“So, your music brought you here.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“And what about your family? Do they come to visit you?”
“No. I go see my mom during the holidays. She still lives in Maryland, but I was able to help her move into a better neighborhood. She works a lot and doesn’t like to travel much.”
“Single mom? What about your dad? Do you have any siblings?”
“My father was arrested on a drug trafficking charge when I was five. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. I had an older brother, Maurice, but he followed in our father’s footsteps. Got caught up in gangs and was shot and killed when I was thirteen.”
Natasha’s grin fell from her lips, and she glanced at the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. Now, you see why I prefer to let other people talk.” I grinned before taking another bite from my food. I could feel her eyes on me, but this time, I avoided them. I didn’t like feeling pitied.
“Did you always want to be a model?” I asked, determined to lighten the mood and change the subject.
“No way. I wanted to be a lawyer, like my dad. As a matter of fact, I’m still in school. I’m only going to classes part-time for now, but I plan to go back full-time next year. Modeling is great—don’t get me wrong—but I need a backup plan, you know?”
“Absolutely.”
A model and a law student? That’s remarkable. She had her shit together, and I both admired and envied that about her. I wasn’t sure I had much to offer.
“What about you? What do you hope to be doing in five years?”
“Making music, doing what I love. Honestly, I only hope to be happy.”
“And are you happy now?”
“There’s still more I hope to accomplish. But, yes, I believe I am. I’m happy I met you.”
Even in the dim candlelight, I could see the pink tinting her cheeks as she smiled.
“I’m happy I met you, too.”
Just as I opened my mouth to ask her a question, my phone started ringing in my pocket. Shit.
“Sorry. I keep it on me in case of emergencies,” I muttered as I pulled it out.
I peeked down to see Sky making a funny face. She was always messing with my phone and changing her profile picture. I silenced the call and stuck it back in my pocket.
“It’s no problem. You can take it if you want. I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine. Just a friend.”
I wondered how Natasha would react once she found out my best friend was a woman. For the first time, I cared enough to avoid mentioning it. I’d have to tell her soon—but not tonight.
The waiter arrived with the check, and I held my breath as I opened the folder to peer down at the total. I hoped I had enough to cover it. I carefully blew out my breath once I realized I did—although I’d be living off of ramen noodles for the next few days.
Good thing Matteo got me that gig.
That reminded me. “What are you doing Thursday night?” I asked as I slipped my credit card in with the check and placed it on the edge of the table.
“Thursday? Nothing. Why?”
“I have a gig, and I was wondering if you’d like to come.”
“I’d love to go.”
Relief washed over me as her face brightened with excitement. Despite my lack of direction and success, she still wanted to see me again. I felt like the luckiest man in the world.
&
nbsp; Before we left, Natasha went to the restroom, and I sent a quick text to Sky to make sure she was okay before arranging for an Uber.
Dillon: What’s up? Is everything okay?
Sky: Yeah, I’m fine. I wanted to check in and see what was up with you.
Dillon: I’ll call you later. I’m on a date.
Sky: A DATE! You’d better call me!
I rolled my eyes. That woman is so nosy.
“Everything okay?” Natasha asked as she came to stand beside me.
“Oh, yeah. Just getting us a ride home.”
SKY
Logan had called me twice since our date, but I hadn’t answered. It had been two days, and I was still pissed at myself for giving in to him so easily. To be honest, I was also scared to talk to him. He was better at this than I was. He had manipulation down to a science, probably because he’d been playing women for so long. But I refused to give up. I was going to make Logan Evans pay for what he’d done to me. I just needed time to reexamine my plan.
Walking into Dillon’s building, I carried a bag of treats for Kuma and a six-pack of Dillon’s favorite beer. I hadn’t heard from him since Monday night when he told me he was on a date. He’d evaded my questions long enough, so I’d decided to walk my ass over to his apartment to collect some answers. Reaching for the knob, I thought twice and took a step back before knocking on the door. I didn’t want to have another incident like last week.
A few seconds later, Dillon answered the door in nothing but a pair of baggy sweatpants. His chest was covered in sweat, and he was breathing heavy. I sucked in a breath, both surprised by his intensity and the overwhelming beauty of his body.
Damn.
Yes, he was my best friend, but there was no harm in looking.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” I asked, getting on my tiptoes to peek over his shoulder.
Dillon shook his head, still fighting to catch his breath. “I was doing some calisthenics.”
“Oh. I thought maybe you were getting it on with your new girlfriend,” I teased, pushing past him and rubbing Kuma’s head as she ran up to sniff her treats.
