With Every Heartbeat

by Linda Kage

  Asher straightened and turned my way, not having realized I’d come in. He tipped his head toward the hall. “He’s in the back. Hey, help me move this speaker, will you? It’s a heavy bastard.”

  I nodded and moved forward to assist him. We grunted and strained for a couple minutes to rearrange the stage until he had everything where he wanted it. He didn’t ask questions or try to strike up a conversation, which I appreciated. I’d learned that when he was in a certain mode, he became too focused for social niceties. Which worked perfectly for me. A little labor without having to come up with words was exactly what I needed.

  But as soon as we had everything where he wanted it, he grinned at me as he dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Thanks, man.” I could see a conversation approaching, so I mumbled something and hurried down the hall to knock on Pick’s office door.

  The last time I’d been in the owner’s office of this club, it’d been located in another room, and another man had been behind the desk. I’d gotten shot that day and seen two people die. Strangely enough, I felt more rattled today than I had then.

  “Come on in,” Pick called from inside.

  After taking a big gulp of air, I entered. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say; I just knew I needed help. Advice. Something.

  Anything.

  And I trusted Pick more than anyone to be confidential and helpful.

  When he glanced up and saw me, he let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God, it’s you. I’m working on this bitch of a schedule. Do you think you can work tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday night? Lowe has chicken pox. Chicken pox! Can you believe that fucker? What twenty-two-year-old gets chicken pox?”

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled as I began to pace. “But, yeah, sure. I can work them. No problem.”

  “Thanks, man.” Pick started to pencil me in when he must’ve finally noticed how badly I was wigging out. His pencil stopped moving a good minute before he lifted his eyes. “Everything okay?” he finally asked.

  “No.” I captured my head with both hands and walked a little faster, needing to vent out some of the adrenaline churning through me.

  Pick sat his pen down and straightened, finally lifting the rest of his face to give me his full attention. “What’s going on?”

  I knew he was good for discretion, but I still didn’t mean to blurt out quite everything that vomited from my mouth. “Last night...I broke up with Cora. She was cheating on me. And then I got drunk and had sex with Zoey, like, all night long.”

  Groaning, I squeezed my head harder and closed my eyes to block out the buzzing between my ears.

  When I risked a glance at Pick to gauge his reaction, he was just staring at me with the blankest expression. Finally, he said, “And then you woke up, right? Because this was another one of your crazy-ass dreams. Right?”

  Collapsing on his couch, I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “I wish, but no. This one wasn’t a dream.”

  “Holy shit,” Pick exploded. “I mean, shit. Holy shit, man. You...” He shook his head. “I mean, we’re really talking about you doing this, right? Not Ten. You?”

  I seared him with a glare and he immediately apologized. “Sorry, I just...” He held up a hand and blew out a long breath. “It’s just a shock, that’s all. Sorry about that.” He smoothed his fingers down the center of his chest as if straightening a tie he wasn’t wearing. “I’m calmer now.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not. Twenty-four hours ago, I was with one girl, settled down, completely committed in our relationship and thinking I was going to spend the rest of my life with no one but her, and then bam, a few hours later, I’m inside her roommate, and...God, I can’t even...I’m not...I don’t even know. I have no idea what to do about this.”

  “Yeah,” Pick said, looking a little shell-shocked himself, which didn’t ease my nerves at all. Then he cleared his throat and shook his head. “So, um...are you sure it’s over between you and Cora?”

  I sent him a sharp look, a little incredulous he even had to ask. “Yes.” There was no doubt in my voice at all. “I hate her. She killed anything and everything I ever felt for her the moment I read the texts she sent to another guy...to multiple other guys.”

  “Are you sure?” Pick cocked a leery eyebrow. “I mean, about your feelings? All this just went down. You may think you hate her now, and then realize...shit. I mean, you weren’t just upset and hurt and struck out at her by sleeping with her friend... Did you?”

  “What?” I surged to my feet, my face molting hot with anger. “No! God, no. I would never...not to Zoey. Not with any girl, but definitely not her.”

  Pick nodded, looking relieved. “Hey, man. I was just making sure.”

  I ran my hand through my hair and began to pace in a circle. “I still...I mean, she was a virgin. I was drunk. I shouldn’t have...I know I need to talk to her, but I have no idea what to say. She was gone when I woke up, and I drove to her place without thinking, except Cora was there, so I took off without talking to her, and...I just... It was her first time,” I repeated stupidly. “I know I have to apologize, but—”

  “No, no, no.” Pick stood up and waved his hands, instantly nixing that idea. He came around to me. “Whatever you do, you do not apologize to a woman ever for having sex with her. Unless you freaking forced her. Shit, you didn’t force her, did you?”

  I scowled. “No.”

  “Okay, good. That’s good. It’s a start. We can work with that.” He paused beside me, eyeing me with a worried gaze.

  Shaking my head, not comprehending, I asked, “Why can’t I apologize to her?”

  “Because you just completed one of the most personal, bonding acts a woman can go through. You don’t ever want to tell her that was a mistake and you regret making that kind of connection with her.”

  “But I do regret the way it happened,” I argued. “No girl’s first time should come from a drunk guy mauling her after he just found out he’d been cheated on. She’s not...she’s not some rebound lay.”

  “Perfect.” Pick snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Tell her that.”

  I blinked at him and waited for him to say more, but he just shrugged. “What?”

  “Well, what do I say after that?”

  He shrugged and then patted my shoulder sympathetically. “No idea, man. Sorry. Every situation is different. You’re going to have to wait and see how she reacts to the first part before you proceed with the rest of your conversation.”

  I swallowed, feeling sick again. “Great.”

  I’d be going into this blind, and I had a bad feeling that when I came out of our talk, Zoey would no longer be in my life.

  Fear clutched my throat.

  I began to remember every moment we’d talked before last night, how we’d been able to open up to each other and share some really personal things with complete trust. Zoey might just know more about me than any other living person on the planet. She was a confidante and a friend. The fact that I still wanted to have sex with her in every speed and position ever made was completely inconsequential. I didn’t want to lose her friendship.

  Pick let me hang around his office for a couple more minutes. He talked me through a few scenarios until I felt a little better, but I was still bone-deep scared. I still wanted to see Zoey as soon as possible. And I still needed to know we could repair what I had obliterated between us. But Pick thought I should give her a day to adjust and deal with what had happened.

  He reminded me that she probably felt as if she’d betrayed Cora and might not want to see me just yet, because my presence would only heighten her guilt. Knowing she was going through that made me feel worse, but I decided to follow his advice. Ergo, I had to wait at least twenty-four hours before tracking her down.

  I left his office with a grateful thanks. When I exited the hall and entered the main part of the club, I slowed to a stop, catching sight of Ten as he pushed through the front door.

  Checking the time, I realized practice must already be over. D
amn. I wasn’t ready to deal with him. Sticking to the shadows of the hallway, I narrowed my eyes and watched him stalk toward the bar.

  “I need alcohol. Bad.”

  “Well, you came to the right place.” Asher flipped up a cup and served him a shot of tequila.

  Ten didn’t even say thank you; he snagged the cup from the bar and downed it with a hard swallow, then he gritted his teeth and focused on Asher. “What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

  Asher chuckled as he flicked his head to the side, letting me see the blond ends he’d dyed into his dark hair, which I hadn’t noticed earlier when I’d come in. “Caroline thought I’d look cool with highlights. So...I went and got some. Who gave you the black eye?”

  “Caroline?” Ten repeated incredulously, narrowing his eyes, and completely ignoring Asher’s return question. “You mean, my Caroline?”

  Asher arched an amused eyebrow. “Your Caroline?”

  Ten flashed his teeth in a silent snarl. “Noel’s Caroline. Caroline Gamble. You know who the fuck I mean, damn it.”

  “Oh, well then...” Asher grinned. “Yeah, that Caroline.”

  Face growing dark, Ten leaned across the counter toward Asher. “Since when are you and Caroline such great buddies?”

  Asher gave a shrug as he refilled Ten’s shot glass. “Since we met at my first gig last week, I guess. We exchanged numbers and started texting—”

  “You what?” Ten snagged the next drink and swallowed it whole before slamming the empty glass back down. “Does Noel know you two are suddenly so tight?”

  Asher made a face as if he wanted to contradict Ten’s terminology, but then he said, “Yeah. I mean, I think he knows. Why? We just talk. What’s your deal, man?”

  “My deal is that I don’t want some fucking prick talking to her and thinking he can get into her panties because over my dead body is that happening. Ever. Got it?”

  Asher grinned suddenly, as if he finally had Ten exactly where he wanted him. “Why not?” he taunted. “She’s cute. She’s fun. She’s sweet. I think it could be good between us.”

  “And I think my fist would feel good slamming right into your throat, motherfucker.”

  A full laugh exploded from Asher. “Man, you are so obvious. If you want me to stay away from her, just tell me you like her, and I will.”

  “I like her,” Ten nearly roared. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

  “Fine.” Asher shrugged as if it were no problem whatsoever to step aside and let Ten have a go. Then he poured Ten a third shot.

  “Fuck,” Ten muttered. “I can’t believe you got me to admit that.”

  “What can I say?” Asher looked pretty proud of himself. “I’m just that good.”

  “Fucker,” Ten muttered, before glancing around. “Where’s Pick?”

  “He’s in the back, talking to Hamilton.”

  Ten straightened; his face paled. “Ham’s here? Shit.” His gaze veered toward the hallway and instantly found me, watching them. Then his shoulders heaved as he drew in a deep breath. “Hey.” His voice was cautious, respectful, regretful.

  I didn’t answer, but I did step out of the shadows before stopping again, my arms folded over my chest. He grew uncomfortable under my direct stare. He cleared his throat, glanced away and tapped his empty shot glass against the countertop, motioning for Asher to pour him another.

  Asher glanced between us and then poured. He watched Ten down that shot before Ten grabbed the bottle from his hand to pour himself another. As Ten tossed that back as well, Asher pointed back and forth between us. “So, if you two are breaking up, does that mean I have to pick sides? Because I’d rather just stay neutral if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Fuck you,” Ten said, shaking the bottle to find it empty. “Get a different alcohol, will you?”

  When Asher did, Ten swiped it out his hand, muttering, “Stop looking at me like that, fucker.”

  “Wow.” Asher let out a low whistle. “You know, I’m not sensing any appreciation. And here I’d just agreed to step aside so you could have Caroline, too.”

  “You did not agree to step aside so I could have her, ass wipe. I’m never having her, either. You agreed to step aside, because you know your stupid rock-star ass is worse for her than my dumb man-whore ass. Jesus.” Ten sucked down the next shot and then shook his head and bowed his face as if the alcohol was starting to get to him.

  Pick strolled out of the hallway and slowed to a stop when he spotted the newest arrival. Setting his forearm against my shoulder to lean against me, he studied Ten passively. “Well, if it isn’t Can’t-Keep-It-In-His-Pants Tenning.”

  Ten slowly looked up and scowled at Pick. “Not a good time for that shit, man.”

  Pick just smirked back. “Didn’t we warn you to never tell him about you and Cora?”

  “Say what?” Asher asked as I tensed and glanced at Pick.

  How did he know Ten and Cora had—

  Pick slid his arm off my shoulder to pat it reassuringly.

  Ten’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between us. “Fuck,” he said. “I should’ve known Ham would tell you.”

  With a chuckle, Pick shook his head. “Actually, he didn’t. But I figured it out from the tension between you two and that black eye you’re sporting.”

  “Wait. What loop am I being left out of?” Asher snagged Ten’s shot cup and cleaned it before Ten could demand more. “You’re not saying Quinn gave him the shiner, are you? And, Ten, you really didn’t fuck Cora...did you?”

  “Oh, yes he did,” Pick announced so openly that I flinched from hearing it said aloud and in such a mild, blasé tone.

  “Holy shit.” Asher’s eyes bugged before he turned an accusing gaze on Ten. “Man, what the hell?”

  “Relax,” Ten growled. “It was before they started dating...” Guilt crept over his face before he more quietly added, “...or so I thought.”

  Asher lifted both eyebrows. “But I thought you hated Hamilton’s woman.”

  “She’s not my woman,” I bit out, only for Pick to pat my shoulder again. Unwillingly, the twitchy muscles under his touch calmed.

  Asher didn’t seem to know how to respond to my outburst. He slid his surprised gaze from me to Ten.

  “Why do you think I hate her?” Ten admitted, glancing apologetically my way. “The bitch lied to me and said you two had only been a one-time deal.”

  I studied him for a moment before something suddenly became clear to me. “Is that why you never let her stay overnight at our place?” Ten looked away, the apology on his face morphing back into guilt. I snorted. “You were afraid she’d crawl out of my bed and right into yours.”

  Wow, that was a sobering thought. All this time, my own roommate had known she couldn’t be trusted to keep her legs together around other men, and I’d been a clueless idiot. “Well, thanks for letting me know what she was really like. Appreciate it.”

  “Hey.” Ten turned back and lifted his hands in defense. “She was so into you after you guys started going hot and heavy, I kind of thought she might’ve changed for you. I hoped she had.”

  “But just not enough to trust her overnight at our place, huh?”

  Ten sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I told you I was sorry. And I am. If I could take it back, I would. The last thing on earth I’d ever want to do is betray one of my friends. I feel like shit, okay.”

  I didn’t want to give in, but I knew he was speaking the truth. He didn’t betray his friends, otherwise he would’ve satisfied his craving for Caroline a long time ago. But he stayed away, in honor of Noel.

  “So, what do you say, Quinn?” Pick squeezed my shoulder again. “Are you going to forgive the dumbass for accidently sleeping with someone he probably shouldn’t have?” When his gaze met mine, I realized he wasn’t referring to just Ten and Cora; he was reminding me of Zoey.

  I glanced away, the shame catching me in the throat. What I’d done with her was fifty times w
orse than anything Ten had done with a girl he thought was completely available and willing.

  After blowing out a breath, I nodded. “Yeah,” I said, my voice rusty as if I hadn’t talked in a week. “I guess. Whatever.”

  “What? Really?” Ten straightened, looking bewildered. “Just like that? You forgive me?”

  He stared at me in disbelief as if he wanted more from me. “What?” I said, scowling back. “Don’t expect a hug or anything.”

  Pick and Asher burst out laughing. Looking a little sick to his stomach, Ten spun on his stool to face the bar, and then reached over to snag the bottle out of Asher’s hand so he could tip it up and just let the alcohol guzzle down his throat.

  Scowling, Pick pointed at him. “Hey, you’re paying for that entire bottle now, fucker.”

  The front doors came open. The four of us turned as Mason strolled into the club. His face was dotted with red splotches but he was whistling under his breath. He stopped when he saw us staring, though. Glancing around, he sent us a perturbed scowl. “Well, thanks for inviting me to the party.”

  “Hart and I are just keeping Hamilton here from killing Ten,” Pick explained. “What’re you doing out and about? I thought you had chicken pox.”

  “I do, but...” Mason pointed toward the stage, only to frown and scratch his arm. “I promised Asher I’d help him reset the stage for karaoke night. Except...”

  “Quinn already helped me.” Asher nodded to me with a grateful smile.

  “Yeah,” Mason said slowly, sliding his gaze his way. “What is Quinn doing here, though?” Then he glanced at my roommate. “And Ten too, for that matter. I thought Gamble was filling in for me tonight.”

  “Ham broke up with Cora,” Pick announced.

  Again, the calm, level way he said it made my jaws clench. Coming from his mouth like that, it sounded like some average, everyday thing had happened, whereas I was barely keeping myself together from all the trauma. I wanted to rage and break things, and curl into a ball and die, and then shrivel up from mortification, all while the things I’d done with Zoey kept whirling through my brain, keeping me perpetually guilty and horny at the same time.