Wild Forces: A Friends to Lovers Romance (O-Town Book 2)

by Karen Renee

  He looked rougher than normal. The usual light in his eyes noticeably absent, so I opened the door to him.

  The smile on his face held half its usual force, which worried me.

  “Come on in, Sullivan. Long time no see.”

  His lips pressed together and I realized his beard had filled in more. I didn’t think I was a beard kind of girl. Then again, I could be any kind of girl if it involved Gabe.

  I shook my head because that was pathetic of me, and I needed to be stronger.

  While I locked the door behind him, he moved to the breakfast bar, leaning his forearms on it. “You got any brown liquor?”

  “Uh, maybe,” I said, as I moved to where Kaylee kept the liquor. I made a mental note to box the bottles up for her since it had probably slipped her mind.

  I found a bottle of Captain Morgan and turned to Gabe. “Spiced rum work for you?”

  “It’ll damn sure beat what Dad ordered at Long Horn. Pour me three fingers.”

  I grabbed a glass and poured a drink for him.

  “Is there an occasion?” I asked as he took a generous swig.

  He smiled, but it looked malicious.

  “You could say that. My dear mother has an inheritance she plans to split between me, Brock, and Vamp.”

  I nodded slowly. “And that calls for brown liquor instead of say, champagne?”

  He leaned away from the breakfast bar and moved to the couch, so I followed him.

  Once I sat down he gave me a sideways glance. “You’re not drinking.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re drinking to, so maybe I’ll have one in a bit. You know, when you’ve filled me in some more.”

  He lifted his glass my way and nodded. After he swallowed another sip, he spoke.

  “It was hard not having a mother around,” he shook his head. “No, that’s not right. It wasn’t hard. Dad made sure there were female role models around. My Auntie Sandra, his mom, and once or twice a serious girlfriend would hang with us. None of that made up for how much I hated not having my own mother around though.”

  “Okay,” I drawled.

  Gabe had kept a very tight lip about his mother, up until recently. With this much information coming from him, I didn’t want him to shut down because of anything I had to say.

  He finished the rum, and held his glass out to me. “Do you mind? If I pour it, I might dump half the bottle in here. And, while you’re at it, Daughtry, pour one for yourself. I’m not in the mood to drink alone.”

  I came back to the living room with his drink and a Diet Coke with a splash of rum in it for me.

  He leaned toward me, the playful glint back in his eyes. “Lemme smell your drink. I don’t trust you, Cassandra.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was blitzed yet, but he was definitely feeling good.

  “I don’t think so, G-Rock. You need to keep to yourself tonight. But feel free to get whatever’s on your mind off your chest, okay?”

  He grinned mischievously. “You mixed your metaphors, Daughtry. Shame, shame. Thought you knew better than that.”

  There weren’t any metaphors being mixed, but I knew better than to argue with him.

  I grinned and rolled my eyes. “You were saying, it pissed you off not having your mother around.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, but now here she is, and she’s throwing around two hundred and fifty Gs to boot. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  My eyes widened. No doubt, he could do a lot with a quarter of a million dollars. While I didn’t know just how intoxicated he was yet, I knew telling him how to invest that much money would be lost on him in his state.

  He leaned toward me, nudging my shoulder with his. “Huh? What am I supposed to do?”

  I looked at him. “There’s a lot you could do, but it wouldn’t hurt to sleep on it for a day or seven.”

  He chuckled. “Or seven. You’re funny, Cassie-Cass.”

  And there was my proof. He could not be reasoned with in this state. I sipped my drink, and put it on the coffee table.

  “I wasn’t being funny, Gabey-Gabe. But that’s all right.”

  Gabe finished the rest of his spiced rum and put the glass back on the coffee table. When he leaned back on the couch, he slung an arm around my shoulders.

  His body leaned into mine. “Need to lay down, Cassie.”

  I tried to move away so he could do that, but his hand tightened on my shoulder.

  “No, you lay down, too. Snuggles.”

  Snuggles? Then again, there wasn’t much difference between this and when he persuaded me to watch movies with him. He shifted and I moved so he would have more room on the couch. His other arm went around my waist, pulling me snug to him, and he put his head on my shoulder.

  “Comfy?” he asked.

  My nerves were making me tense, but I lied. “Yep.”

  “Good.”

  His hand at my shoulder moved to my neck. I looked over to see he’d raised his head and his eyes looked different. Not drunk, though they did shine like he’d had one too many, but intent and determined.

  He lowered his head and kissed me. Everything froze. My mind, my heart, and my lungs. His tongue prodded at my lips, and I opened for him. He tasted of spiced rum. So much spice, I wanted to revel in it, but this was wrong.

  I twisted my head away. “Gabe, no.”

  His hand at my waist came up to cup my cheek. “It’s just kissing, Cassie,” he said against my cheek. Except my name came out ‘Cashie.’

  “To you it is, but to me it isn’t. I can’t be one of your conquests, Gabe. Plus, you’re drunk. You’d never make a play at me if you were sober. Sleep it off.”

  I gently pushed him to his back, stood up, and put a blanket on him.

  When I wandered back out to give him another pillow, he was out cold. I took the pillow back to my room. Then I packed an overnight bag. If I stuck around until he woke up, things would be even more awkward. So even if it made me a wimp, I was going to do my damndest to avoid Gabe.

  In the parking lot, I ran into Kaylee.

  “Hey, uh, listen. Gabe Sullivan is on the couch upstairs. Hopefully still sleeping, but I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

  “Why is he on the couch?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not my place to say, but I can’t be there when he wakes up, and I—”

  She gasped. “Did he do you?”

  The way she inadvertently emphasized the word ‘you’ made my face fall.

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that, Cassie. I just... You guys are just such good friends, and everything. I—”

  I put a hand up. “I get it, Kaylee. No. He didn’t ‘do’ me. Not even close. I just don’t want him to know where I am, and I’m sorry I won’t be around to help you out more tomorrow.”

  “Pshaw! Don’t be. Dad and Uncle Tom will have it handled.”

  I nodded. “Okay. And don’t forget about your liquor stash. I – or really, Gabe – probably owe you a bottle of spiced rum, but I didn’t want you to forget it.”

  She grinned. “Thanks, hon. Stacey’s stash is thin at best, so I’ll do that.”

  8

  Whiskey

  Gabe

  “WHO THE FUCK IS THIS guy?” a gruff voice demanded.

  “A friend of Cassie’s, Dad. He’s just leaving. Promise. Here, can you take this box down to my car. It’s all liquor, and will have to go in the trunk.”

  I pried my eyes open, glad to see Kaylee had led her father out of the apartment. When I turned my head, I caught a whiff of Cassie’s sweet perfume and I remembered the last thing I said to her about kissing.

  Shit! I kissed her last night, but hell if I could remember what that had felt like. My cheeks puffed as I blew out a disappointed breath. I couldn’t have been a bigger dumbass.

  When I stood from the couch, Kaylee came back into the apartment.

  “You need get the hell out of here, Gabe,” she hissed at me.

  “Not until I talk to Cassie. Where
is she?” I asked, moving to Cassie’s room.

  Kaylee scurried and blocked me. “She isn’t here, asshole. I don’t know what the hell you did to her last night, but nobody makes my friend leave her apartment and not pay the price.”

  “I didn’t do anything to her,” I muttered, hoping she didn’t see through my lie.

  “Right. Whatever, Gabe. Go home, and for God’s sake, shave.”

  My head had been aching when I woke up, but Kaylee’s shrill voice made it throb. I turned around and went to my apartment.

  When I walked in the door, Brock pounced on me.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.

  My eyes widened, but I blew out a breath trying to figure out what to say.

  “I went to Cassie’s last night. She listened to me, but I was drinking. I kissed her, but she asked me to stop. I fell asleep on their couch. I thought for sure she’d be there this morning. She was long gone, and her roommate, being the bitch she is, wouldn’t tell me where she is or anything.”

  I could see Brock fighting a grin. Hell, he was probably trying not to laugh. I didn’t even realize someone else was in the room with us until Clint chuckled.

  “Love to stick around and hear this brotherly heart-to-heart, but I got a job to do, boys.” He shoved Brock’s shoulder. “Think about what I mentioned, Brock.”

  He turned his brown eyes on me. “As for you, man. Get your shit together. Crazy as it sounds, sometimes the truth comes out when we’re drunk. Think about that shit, ’cause I’ve been thinkin’ you’ve got more feelings for Cassie than you’ve admitted for a long-ass time. You wait too long, you’re gonna let her get away.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but he ignored it. When he got to the door, he twisted to me. “And Gabe. I’m old enough to tell you right now, it’s never good to let one get away. And damn fuckin’ sure never good to let the one who is meant for you to get away. So, take care of that shit.”

  Brock and I stared at the door for a beat, and then I went straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change clothes. In my room, I pulled the blinds, and tried to get some more sleep.

  No matter how I tried, Cassie permeated my thoughts. And my dreams. I had a dream about kissing her that night, but I could not remember what it felt like, what she tasted like, and it drove me crazy. I had a fuzzy memory of the pained look on her face when I pulled away from her, and telling her it was just kissing, but normally I remembered how a woman kissed. It was important. Vital. And, I’d finally done it but couldn’t remember fuck all about it.

  When I woke up, I felt mildly better, but I had to get some exercise or I’d go insane.

  Brock wasn’t home, so I grabbed my basketball and went to a nearby court. My truck had been serviced yesterday, so I finally had my wheels back. When I pulled up, I noticed DeShawn and two of his friends already playing.

  As I approached the court, DeShawn yelled, “Sullivan! You look like shit!”

  I shook my head, and set my ball and water by the fence. “You got room for one more?”

  DeShawn’s cousin, Kevin shook his head. “I got to go. And he’s right, you look like hell. What happened to you?”

  I shrugged. “Had one too many last night. You know how it is.”

  They nodded. The other man, who I had not met before, said, “I can’t stay. Kev’s my ride.”

  After they cleared out, DeShawn said, “I’ll play you, but you ain’t hungover. Something else is goin’ on.”

  I told him about being at Cassie’s last night.

  He wiped sweat from his forehead and shook his head. “You went and fucked up, Gabe!”

  I dribbled the basketball, but called over my shoulder, “Tell me something I don’t know, Dee!”

  As I made my way to the hoop, DeShawn stole the ball from my right side. This started an aggressive game of one-on-one, and nearly an hour later, DeShawn had won. Twenty-five points to my eighteen.

  I had my back against the chain link fence, ass to the ground, and my arms propped on my bent knees. DeShawn sat on an aluminum bench nearby.

  “You were drunk, and you kissed her?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed.

  After a moment, I added, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

  DeShawn’s head swayed from side to side for a moment in deliberation. “I don’t know about that. You shouldn’t have done it while you were drunk.”

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “You go from banging every woman who bats her eyes at you to swearing off women. Then you tie one on and kiss Cassie. How you think she’s gonna take that shit?”

  I hung my head, and for at least the fifth time that day, wished I could kick my own ass.

  FROM THE BATHROOM, I heard my cell phone ringing in my bedroom. I shrugged on my t-shirt and grabbed my phone just in time.

  “Hey, Vamp,” I greeted.

  “Heard you decided on a major.”

  “Yeah. Entertainment Management.”

  “Pop says you’re thinking of running your own club?”

  I chuckled. “Well, I have to work my way up and shit, but that would likely be the end goal.”

  “‘Likely?’ Why so uncertain?”

  I sighed. “I’m not uncertain, but I damn sure know life has a way of throwing major loops in the best-laid plans.”

  He paused. “You’re right. If you’re serious about nightclub management and shit, I got someone you need to talk to. He’s a brother who transferred to the Jacksonville chapter, but when he lived in Biloxi, he managed a club. You want, I’ll pass on your contact info, but just to say, he might be headed to O-Town with his woman sometime, so you could even talk to him in person if you’d prefer.”

  “I appreciate it, Vamp, but it’s gonna be another two years at a minimum. So maybe I’ll hold off on that.”

  “Your choice, but wouldn’t you rather know if there’s shit you haven’t thought about before you—”

  I interrupted him because I did not need anything changing my mind. “I’ll think about it, man. All right?”

  “Good,” he muttered.

  “Rainey set a date yet?”

  “Shut up. But you’ll be the first to know, after I do. See you soon.”

  My gut said to call Cassie about my brother giving me shit on my major, but I knew better. The last time I felt this uncomfortable, I had pissed off Granny when I was twelve. I couldn’t remember what I did, but the discomfort of disappointing my favorite woman still felt the same.

  “Shit,” I hissed.

  “You say something, Gabe,” Cecilia called from the living room.

  “No. Sorry.”

  I suddenly wished I hadn’t showered. The urge to run hit me like a boulder, and I wanted to kick my own ass. Repeatedly.

  Cassie

  I SPENT THE NIGHT WITH my parents, and within half an hour I remembered why that was not a bad idea, but the worst idea. My mother couldn’t understand why I needed to stay in my childhood room while my roommate moved out.

  I couldn’t understand why it was an imposition on my mother to have me in the house. Yet, half my childhood had seemed to be a direct imposition on her. So, being an adult, I ignored her reaction to my presence and focused on Dad. He had been thrilled to see me, and he made his special breakfast casserole this morning.

  Now, had my mother been upset by that, I’d have understood, because Dad needed to watch his cholesterol and sodium intake. But he used any excuse to make the sausage, egg, white bread, and cheese casserole and a daughter in the house was a daughter who needed his idea of breakfast.

  Mother had left early for yoga, and then she had plans to go to a late lunch, leaving me and dad to ourselves. I cleaned our breakfast dishes while Dad shaved.

  He came out of the bathroom dressed in navy blue slacks and a short-sleeved baby-blue button-up shirt. “You sure I can’t talk you into coming to the office?”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t bring any office-appropriate clothes. It slipped my min
d when I packed my stuff.”

  He grinned at me, but the look in his eye said he knew I was lying.

  “You gonna be okay while we’re gone?”

  I fought rolling my eyes or asking if he thought I was thirteen rather than twenty-three. Instead, I grinned. “I’ll be fine. The piano out of tune in the den?”

  He scoffed. “Like I’d have an out-of-tune piano in my house? Are you crazy? And I know your cat’s been hiding from you, but she loves lounging on that instrument.”

  I chuckled. “She does, but if she’s still holding her grudge, then she’ll bolt as soon as I enter the room. Anyway, I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “I better, honey. I want my hugs before you leave.”

  After Dad left, I took a cup of herbal tea to the den and settled myself at the piano. Mom, my cat, slunk out from behind the piano and stared at me. It didn’t seem quite like a glare, but with her feline personality it was hard to be certain.

  “Okay, sweet girl. I’m sorry you can’t live with me at the apartment, but someone’s got to keep Dad company, you know.”

  We adopted Mom fourteen years ago, when I was nine. That made her at least fourteen, but seeing as she was pregnant when we took her in, I suspected her age to be fifteen. Watching her pad away from me, her old age seemed to be reflected in her slow gait. I sighed and thought about what song to play.

  For the last two years, I had loved that music was a thing between Gabe and me, so much so, it was pretty much our thing. But now, with so much weighing on my mind, I hated that my love of music drummed up thoughts of him.

  I sat at the piano and shoved thoughts of Gabe out of my head. My fingers hit the keys, and instinctively they played the chord to one of my favorite Maroon 5 songs, “Whiskey.” The lyrics started in the second bar of music, and I couldn’t help but sing it.

  Having heard it and played it a gazillion times (minor exaggeration), I easily flipped all the appropriate pronouns. While it didn’t all apply, I had always been Gabe’s even if he wasn’t mine. Allowing myself to be so reckless was a stupid mistake on my part, but I knew I had let it go on far too long. I had learned the lesson in a bitter way.

  I finished out the song, singing it and playing it on the piano with tears brimming in my eyes. It was like hearing the song for the first time. Occasionally that happened to me. I could hear a song over and over again, but not until I played it would I understand the song in a visceral way.