Twisted

by Cari Quinn

  A text came through and he leaped on his phone. Excitement surged and banked as he realized it was from Jazz. Not that he didn’t want to hear from her too, but at the moment he had another priority. Even his gorgeous, perfect best friend couldn’t compare with a sweet white pile of powder.

  Simon just got the esthetician’s number. He said it’s a new personal record. I think Deak’s too disgusted to laugh.

  Gray waited, unable to reply. But she wasn’t done.

  Back in high school, I saw girls give you their numbers way faster than that. Though you always tried to hide them from me. You always joked that I was hotter than they were.

  He swallowed and shut his eyes. Jesus, how had they gotten to this place? She’d been the cornerstone of his life for so long. The reason he wanted to be a better man. The answer to all the questions he’d never been brave enough to ask when he wasn’t high. They mattered too much, and he was a goddamned coward.

  Now she was asking him to remember a simpler time, one where his longing for her had been pure and untainted, while he had a hard-on for a mirror and a snow-white smile.

  His thumbs moved over the keys. You are hot. The hottest girl I’ve ever seen.

  Without giving her a chance to answer, he shut off his phone.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Then

  Holy crap, what had she gotten herself into?

  Standing in the foyer of Beth’s parents’ house, Jazz glanced around with wide eyes. She wasn’t a stranger to parties, but this one was a freaking rager. The place had already been completely trashed and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. The front door stood wide open and a steady stream of people poured in and out, most of them laughing and shouting and guzzling their drink of choice.

  And those drinks were all alcoholic.

  She didn’t balk when one of the senior guys pressed a bottle into her hand. Why should she? She could tolerate her liquor. She’d been sneaking sips from her mother’s stash since she was ten. Yet another reason her mom had said she was such a bad influence on her little sister.

  What kind of example are you setting for Molly? Drinking and slutting around.

  At the pang in her chest, she lifted the beer and took a sip. Bad influence. Right. That was her label, so she’d wear it proudly.

  “This is incredible,” Stacey said, bumping into her side. “There are so many sexy guys here, oh my gawd, I can’t stand it.”

  Jazz giggled, and not from her friend’s statement. Stacey’s glazed eyes and slack mouth gave her a shell-shocked appearance. Of course that also might’ve been from the pills she’d been popping on her way over, claiming they were some kind of muscle relaxant for bad cramps.

  “Who’re you planning on nailing tonight?” Jazz asked, leaning her head on Stacey’s shoulder as she took another gulp. This beer didn’t taste like any she’d had before. It had a metallic flavor to it rather than a yeasty one. But if it worked to ease her nerves about putting the moves on Gray—any kind of moves at all—she was down with it.

  “Who am I not planning on nailing is a better question.” Stacey patted Jazz’s head like a child’s before she snagged a beer from the same senior who had hooked up Jazz with one a few moments ago. He’d reloaded both hands with a pair of bottles that were already uncapped.

  Jazz took another bolstering sip, fearing repercussions, but instead of seeming pissed, he stopped and turned back to give them both a leisurely look. “You two come as a set?” he asked, licking his lips.

  Shaking her head, Jazz stumbled back. “N-no, of course not.”

  She wasn’t positive what he was asking, though she had a pretty good idea. A girl didn’t land in a handful of foster homes in two years without picking up a thing or two about the dirty, depraved things that people did for fun. And heck, she wasn’t slamming it. If more than one person was your scene, aces. But she only had one guy in mind. Even Toby didn’t garner more of her interest than a passing thought.

  Stacey shot her a sharp glance. “Depends what you have in mind, Mike.” Her tone turned flirtatious. “You bring some party favors with you tonight?”

  Jazz backed up again, straight into a hard chest. “Hey there. You heading somewhere?”

  She looked up at Toby’s smiling face and her stomach tumbled. It wasn’t desire that caused that shaken-marble sensation in her belly, but nausea. “No. I don’t think so.” Was she? How was she supposed to remember?

  He chuckled. “Let me know when you figure it out.”

  “’Kay.”

  The noise was getting to her. The music wasn’t something she was familiar with, all screaming guitars backed by a vocalist who shrieked more than sang. Normally she enjoyed any kind of rock or metal. Not tonight. Her temples were pounding like hammers into wood. She swallowed to wet her dry throat before remembering she still held a bottle in her boneless fingers. She took another swig, letting the off-tasting liquid flow down her throat. Why was her face so hot all of a sudden?

  “Jasmine, isn’t it?” He leaned down and ruffled the hair she’d teased into blue spikes at her crown. “You want to go somewhere a bit quieter? Maybe we could talk a little, get to know each other.”

  “Okay.” She nodded again and regretted it when her head spun. Jesus, she was becoming a lightweight. Couldn’t even handle one beer. She let out a tipsy giggle, pleased at how Toby steadied her with his iron fingers. God, his strength was hot.

  But when he started to head toward the stairs, she planted her boots on the carpeted floor. “Uh uh. Don’t know you. Can’t go upstairs with you ’til you buy me dinner.”

  His amused smile made her offer a goofy smile back. At least it felt goofy to try to make her lips work. “Is that so?”

  She firmed her wobbly chin. “Yes. My mom taught me that.”

  “Your mom sounds like a smart woman.” He flashed her a lethal smile, one she’d heard the girls talking about as a panty-dampener. She couldn’t tell if she was still wearing panties, never mind if they were wet. “How about the basement? Other people are down there, but it’ll be easier to get better acquainted.”

  It was getting harder to argue. Maybe she shouldn’t. She wanted so badly to make friends, and here was a chance.

  She glanced over her shoulder to tell Stacey she’d be downstairs. Except Stacey wasn’t anywhere in sight. And neither was Mike.

  Swallowing hard, she faced Toby again and gave him a smile. She could do this. Perhaps she’d even have fun. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Now

  On the back deck of the cabin where Gray and Nick were staying, Jazz tugged down her slip dress and peered at her phone. It was late. She debated texting Harper, then decided she needed an urgent pep talk that involved actual speech.

  She was about to seduce Gray. All alone. Him and her. And Nick, except he’d be in a different room. That was a whole other kettle of hot mess. Her guilt on that score alone made her want to turn and hide. But she wasn’t hiding. She was going for it.

  She was almost sure.

  Ducking behind the hot tub, she called her partner-in-crime. It was chilly tonight so she sway-rocked on her high-heeled boots to generate body heat while she waited for Harper to answer. And maybe because she was nervous. Just a tad.

  “Help me,” she whispered as soon as her friend answered.

  “Let me guess. His zipper broke?”

  “Ha ha. So not funny. I’m on the verge of chickening out. He’s not answering my texts and I’m dressed like a—” She glanced down at the insanely expensive scanty red dress she’d bought at the spa’s gift shop. The boots were on loan from Harper from a few weeks ago, but this was her maiden voyage in them. “I think I might look like a hooker. A scared one. Harp, I’m blonde. What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You know, I’ve heard blonde is a perfectly respectable hair color. Sometimes blondes even have more fun.”

  “I’m not having fun right now. My scalp still hurts from all the bleach and I’m getting draft
s in places that should never feel cold air. Why am I doing this again?”

  “The hair thing, I couldn’t tell you, since you were plenty hot as a brunette and a rainbow and every color in between. If I had to guess, you thought becoming blonde would help you score. But I seriously doubt you needed to bother, since your scoring is in the bag.” Harper paused. “Where are you anyway?”

  “At this very instant?”

  “No, last Tuesday. Yes, right now.”

  “Kind of crouching behind the hot tub. Gray’s window overlooks the deck. It’s sunken. The hot tub, I mean, not his window—”

  “Jasmine. Go inside and talk to the man. You’re going to get pneumonia if you stand around outside half-naked.”

  “Aww.” Jazz couldn’t help but smile. “You sound like a mom. How cute.”

  “Do I?” Harper asked, clearly pleased.

  “You so do. I have to get knitting. I found this pattern for the most adorable booties—”

  “Jazz. Stop stalling.”

  “But he hasn’t texted me back since this afternoon. He was supposed to tell me which room was his and instead I had to guess. What if he doesn’t want me here?”

  “What was the last thing he said to you?”

  Jazz gripped the edge of the Jacuzzi to adjust her position. “Uh, something about me being the hottest girl he’s ever seen.”

  “And you’re still outside? Did that bleach fry your brain or what?”

  “I’m scared. This is so huge. And—and Nick’s here.”

  “Oh Lord. Don’t tell me you want a repeat of that threesome, because I swear to God, I will come there and—”

  “No, no, of course not.” Jazz had to laugh. “Believe me, once was plenty. It wasn’t even a normal threesome. I told you, there wasn’t penetration by both, just Nick.”

  “The words penetration and Nick should never be in the same sentence. Just FYI.”

  “Nick’s not that bad. Okay, fine, yes he is, but he has redeeming qualities.”

  “Do not mention his penis. Na-na-na, can’t hear you,” Harper said in a singsong voice as Jazz choked out a giggle.

  “I’m not. I’m just saying, I feel bad for doing this while he’s here. It doesn’t seem right. I don’t want to hurt him if I can help it.”

  “You can be discreet, right? You’ll be leaving early in the morning. Just try not to swing from the chandeliers—or the deer antlers—and you should be good.”

  Jazz peeked over the hot tub at Gray’s window. He’d lifted it part way and the light was on in his room but from this angle she couldn’t see if he was actually in there. Dammit, why wasn’t he answering his texts? “I can be discreet, I just don’t want it to be awkward.”

  “So wait for a less complicated time then. Bring back my catering truck and go back to the ginormous suite of rooms at the spa you’re sharing with my delectable husband and the manwhore. Just keep on pretending that your heart isn’t breaking every moment you’re not with Gray. Go on, I dare you.”

  Jazz slumped behind the hot tub and tapped her head lightly against the side. If she kept doing it, maybe the pain would distract her from the knot of nerves in her throat. “Direct hit.”

  “Sorry, but it had to be said, sweetie. Dispensing tough love means I love you.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Jazz blinked away the sudden film in her eyes. “Me too. And I know you’re right. I’ve come this far, I might as well—”

  “Actually come?” Harper offered helpfully.

  Just like that, Jazz’s grin returned. God, she’d missed having a girlfriend, and Harper was one of the best she’d ever had. “From your mouth to God’s ears. Okay. I’m heading in. I’ll have the truck back by seven a.m. as agreed. Or, you know, in fifteen minutes when he tells me I look like a skank and kicks my ass out.”

  Harper snorted. “Right. You’re so getting nailed tonight.”

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence.” Jazz smiled and flexed her damp fingers around her phone. “Later, chick.”

  “You better call me tomorrow. I want deets. Lewd ones.”

  “Pregnancy hormones kicking in already?”

  “You know it. They’re fierce. And where’s my husband? Getting beautified, which is basically an oxymoron. He’s already perfect.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Luck, sweetie.”

  “’Bye.” Jazz clicked off and shoved her phone in her boot.

  She was about to stand when the scrape of Gray’s window being raised hit her ears. She ducked even further into the shadows, but she finally gave up and peeked over the Jacuzzi.

  Gray had his arm out the window, and he held a glowing cigarette. Or…maybe not. He blew out a breath then she caught an unmistakable whiff of what he was smoking. That was no cigarette. Since when had Gray started smoking pot?

  She thought back over the last few months. The awkward silences between them, the unexplained absences, the unfocused expression in his eyes. She’d tried to play all of that stuff off as his being uncomfortable with the band, though she’d suspected deep down that there was more to it than that. She’d been afraid of how much that stupid threesome had influenced his behavior. Something had seemed to crack in him after that. But no, maybe she’d pegged him all wrong. Plenty of musicians got high on a lot worse things than pot.

  Not Gray. Never Gray.

  It had never occurred to her that he could be on something because he’d always been militantly anti-drugs. Back in high school he’d flipped out when she’d gone through her experimental phase. It hadn’t lasted long. She’d tried a few different substances at parties. She’d also gotten fall-down-drunk more than once. She’d soon realized that she didn’t want to lose control of her faculties—ever. His rants every time she touched the illegal stuff had certainly pushed along the process.

  Now this. It was better than the alternative, though. All of the alternatives.

  She nearly let out a peal of hysterical laughter. Damn, she actually felt relieved that he might have a pot problem. A few tokes she could handle. She’d been in bands since she was a teenager. It was almost a standard part of life on the road.

  That didn’t mean she approved of Gray developing a habit. She’d definitely try to get him to cut back or quit. She was just happy it wasn’t something worse.

  Like the heroin that Snake, Oblivion’s first drummer, had gotten hooked on. She shuddered. Once that shit had its claws in you, it was almost impossible to tear yourself free without leaving some vital parts of your flesh behind.

  She sucked in a breath and winced at the aroma that came with it. They’d discuss the pot situation, after. She hoped it didn’t affect performance. Assuming he would be doing something that counted as performing because dear Lord, if he didn’t, she might start toking up herself.

  The time had come to find out.

  She lurched to her feet. Luckily she had a firm grip on the side of the Jacuzzi because she wobbled on her super-high boots and nearly did a header onto the deck. Awesome. Naturally Gray picked that moment to glance her way—and to drop his joint. Whether he did it intentionally in the hopes of hiding it or due to her appearance, she couldn’t say.

  Swagger firmly in place, she marched over and picked it up, waving it back and forth. “So this is what you’ve been up to.”

  Her gaze dropped to his bare chest and the swirls of black ink that banded his upper right arm. Her focus slid farther down, stopping at the unbuttoned top button of his jeans. Swirls and shadows lurked behind his zipper. A tattoo? Just a really dense happy trail? Hard to say, but at that point, she forgot how to speak.

  And breathe.

  “Give me that,” he snapped, leaning out the window far enough that she could watch his chest and abs ripple in perfect harmony. So many damn muscles. They would’ve struck her dumb again if he hadn’t been about to snatch the joint.

  She’d just have to ogle later.

  She stumbled backward, retreating until her spine hit the hot tub. He was already hauling up the sill and climbing out, making her h
eart rate zoom up to dangerous levels. Soon she’d need CPR.

  Mouth-to-mouth, yes, please.

  “Seriously, you’re not even supposed to be here. What the hell are you—Jesus Christ, what are you wearing?” He took one step toward her and stopped, reaching up to run his hand over his face. He spread his fingers over his eyes and swore. “Yeah, got it right the first time. Not hallucinating. Fucking thigh-high leather boots and blond hair.”

  “Nope, no hallucination. This is all real.”

  “No kidding. I don’t know what you’re here for, but I think you chose the wrong night.”

  “Because of this?” She lifted the joint to her mouth as he cursed again. Why the hell not? She’d never made a believable good girl anyhoo. “Friends should share.”

  Before he could make another grab, she took a deep drag. And started to choke.

  “Christ, don’t.” He bolted forward and locked an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She coughed again weakly, not even protesting when he plucked the joint out of her hand. She expected him to toss it aside, not to bring it to his perfect lips and take a deep breath. After inhaling, he blew out the smoke until it curled up lazily in the air between them. “Mine. Not yours.”

  “Is that how it is?” She swallowed to ease the burn in her throat and swayed again, though not from her boots this time. The weed had already hit her head, and wow, she had no complaints. Already her nerves were fading.

  Now she was just hungry. And not for food.

  “Yeah.” He drew in and out, lightly blowing the smoke between them, squinting his eyes as the plumes swirled through the air, pungent and sharp. Intoxicating in their own destructive way. “This is a party for one, babe.”

  “You definitely sound high.” She caught her fingers in his belt loops and ducked her head under his chin. His body heat radiated against her, searing and intense. Being this close to him was like stepping up to the edge of a cliff and staring down into an inferno.