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My bottom lip wobbles, and a tear slides down my cheek as my pen hovers above the page. I always get to this part but can never write it. Not yet, anyway. The part where I admit my undying love for the guy. Okay, undying might be a bit of a stretch. Then again, he’s dead, and I still love him, so the term is pretty fucking fitting now that I think about it.
Telling him the truth. That I love him. Love. Not loved. Because even though he’s gone, these feelings are pretty fucking real. And they’re only the tip of the iceberg. Admitting that his absence hurts. That it’s killing me. That I feel like I’m drowning with no hope of breathing ever again. Not when the man with the power to give it to me, to help me breathe, is six feet under.
I jerk back, nearly running into a stunned Rory behind me. Not gonna lie. The guy’s built like a god. Broad shoulders. Strong arms. A black shirt hugs his biceps, and light reflects off his warm, coffee-colored eyes and tan skin. Did my tongue just grow three times its original size? I think—yup—it totally did. He’s…well, he appears to be a surfer-boy with a side of bad decisions, and the tattoos etched onto his forearm are enough to make a girl like me fall to my knees and worship the bastard right here, right now.
I’ve played this game a time or two. Pretty sure it comes with the territory when you're a rockstar. But never—and I mean never—have I had to fight the urge to grab someone and kiss them more than in this moment.
“Don’t disappear.” “And where would I go?” “Not sure even you know the answer to that.” I step even closer, dropping my voice low. “I know a runner when I see one.” “I thought you said you like the chase?”
“We know Dodge.” She shrugs. “And even then, I know of Dodge. His parents run in the same circles as Rory’s, and Rory’s parents run in the same circles as mine, and…” “And Dodger’s little sister is practically engaged to one of Tatum’s older sister’s best friends,” Rory chimes in. “Well, fuck.” I grip the back of the couch but leave plenty of space between me and the girl on the next cushion. “Should I get a notepad so you can draw me a family tree? Or…”
“Pretty sure your ego can take the hit,” Tatum muses. “You did good, by the way.” “Thanks. You, too.” With a laugh, she asks, “And what did I do?” “Sat there and looked pretty.” “You think I’m pretty, huh?”
“You guys should stay a while. We have drinks. Food. Whatever you want. Except no drugs.” He gives Tuke a pointed look, and Tuke grins around his mouthful of jerky. “Drugs are bad. Stay in school.” “Already graduated but great advice.”
“Why don’t you catch a ride with Pax, and I’ll hang out for the meet and greet?” Rory suggests from the couch. “Then Herb can give me a ride back to the hotel later?” My eyes widen at the opportunity she’s gifted me. When they lock with Rory’s behind Tatum’s back, she winks at me, proving she knows it, too. Well, would you look at that? You might be my new favorite person, Baby.
This girl’s a vault, and I’ve always been a sucker for picking locks.
The shield covers her expression, but I don’t need to see her face to know she’s smiling. I’d bet my life savings it’s a real one, too. Not the flirty facade she used on me to sneak into the venue earlier. Not the smartass one she wore as armor when she ran into Dodge and the rest of the band after the show. Nah. This one’s for her. And for some reason I can’t explain, my chest puffs up in pride. I put it there. That smile. Me.
“A burger and fries.” I clutch at my chest. “My hero.” “Hey, if you’re nice, I’ll let you get a shake, too.” “Let me,” I repeat with a scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know me very well.” “Not yet.” He reaches for the restaurant’s door, holding it open for me. “But give me time.”
Pax could be a Greek god—and honestly, he’s competing pretty hard for the title-–and
“Not gonna let me revel in my victory?” I counter, dipping the red plastic spoon into the paper cup for another bite. He watches as I lick the spoon, and something sparks in his eyes. “Seems like you’re reveling in it just fine.”
“Kinda feel like I need to do something to make you smile today, too,” Pax murmurs, somehow riding the line between making me feel like we’re talking about the weather and something more. Picking up my burger again, I say, “It was a bad day.” “I’ve had a few of those.” He shrugs. “They fucking suck, am I right?”
It’s refreshing. Having someone willing to relate to you without all the added prying I’ve grown to loathe over the years. Sometimes, less is more, and very few people get it. That when you’re mourning, you don’t need a solution. You don’t need a Band-Aid or a word of wisdom. You just need a yeah, that fucking sucks. Let me sit with you while we both wallow in self-pity and vent about how much fate hates us.
Love me or hate me, but if I only get to live once, I have no problem making reckless decisions because there’s nothing worse than living with regret. I should know. I’ve done it for years.
“You’re a pretty little liar. I’ll give you that much,” he murmurs. “Who says I’m lying?” “So you always happen to want what’s right in front of you?” I lift my shoulder again. “Maybe.”
“You seem like you’re someone who likes to keep things close to the chest.” “Yet here you are, prying like a seasoned expert.”
“Favorite book?” I prod. “Wait, don’t tell me. You’re more of a TV show guy, am I right?” “Right again, Birthday Girl. And I’m gonna go with…Vampire Diaries.”
“So what do you say? Are you turning me down, Mr. Security?” “I should,” he counters dryly. “It might be good for you to be told no every once in a while.”
“Pretty faces like yours are used to getting what they want,” he murmurs. “But you’re right. After the whole kidnapping thing, I guess I can put out.” I laugh even harder. “So selfless.” “You have no idea.”
“Sorry, but pegging isn’t my thing. Or at least, not on the first date,” I add, letting him jump to whatever conclusion he wants by my not-so-thinly-veiled innuendo, er, in-his-end-o.
“You wet for me, Birthday Girl?” I keep my eyes on his and spread my legs a little further apart. “Why don’t you find out?”
“Fuck, I want to kiss you.” I swallow, the blaze from his body seeping into mine as my opposite shoulder presses into the wall. “Then why don’t you?” “Because if I kiss you, I have a feeling I’ll want to fuck you.”
“And even though you clearly like it down and dirty,” he whispers, “I think you deserve a bed so I can worship you fully.” “Who says I need worshipping?” His chuckle is low and throaty, causing my core to tighten. “Anyone who ever tries to convince you otherwise, send them to me.” Body aching, I whisper, “And what will you do?” “Let them watch as I worship you.”
“I wonder if they have cameras. If they’re watching you through an app on their phone.” My eyelids flutter, and I grip his wrist between my thighs, slowly rolling my hips against him. “If they do, I’ll have to track down the footage.” “Why?” I breathe out. “Because I’ve never seen anything sexier than the way you look right now.” He dips even closer. “Do you have any idea how hard I am? My cock is fucking throbbing. I’d give anything to pull it out and squeeze the tip, pretending it’s this tight pussy.”
“Wanna fuck this pretty mouth with my tongue as I’m buried inside you. Wanna feel this tight pussy squeezing my cock the same way it’s squeezing my fingers. So fucking greedy, Birthday Girl. So fucking greedy.”
Slowly, Pax pulls his hand out from under my skirt and lifts it above the table, licking his forefinger and middle finger as his eyes hold mine. “Well, would you look at that. I found a new favorite dessert.”
“I think I know how to clean up a little mess.” “Yeah, but do you know how to let someone else clean it up for you?”
And maybe it’s because the girl in front of me isn’t looking at me like she wants to fuck a rockstar simply to claim she did. Nah, she’s looking at me like tonight is a secret. One meant for only me and her.
Reaching for the helmet on the seat, she slides it on and tilts her head back. Grabbing her throat, I bring her toward me, squeezing softly before redoing the buckle.
Most girls I’ve been with would’ve said, “Are you okay if I call Rory?” as if my opinion—or my time—matters. Tatum? Tatum doesn’t give a flying fuck, and it’s a hot as hell.
“You should put it out.” “Why? ‘Cause it’ll kill me?” I ask, sucking in another plume of smoke, then blowing it out. “Only the good die young, Birthday Girl.”
There it is again. Her unapologetic, hit-you-over-the-head-with-it remark. I like it. How she isn’t afraid to speak her mind or tell me what she wants.
“And who’s being generous?” I challenge, tossing her own word back at her. “You or me?” “Me, obviously.” She grins. “You’re welcome for letting you touch me, by the way.” My fingers drag along her skin, committing every curve, every silky inch, to memory. “You are a prize.” “I thought I was a fan,” she argues dryly. “And a perk.”
Now about that third orgasm…” I laugh and kiss her nose. “And how would you like it?” “Well, let’s see.” She nibbles her bottom lip. “I’ve had your hand and your mouth. The only thing missing from the trifecta is the thing between your legs.” “You saying you want my cock, Birthday Girl?”
“What? It doesn’t turn you on?” “You being a famous rockstar who’s had your dick in who knows how many holes?” She scoffs. “Hardly.” “Yet here you are,” I point out. “Spread out beneath me, your taste still on my tongue and requesting a third orgasm.”
I’ve been in her shoes more times than I can count in this profession—only wanting one thing from the girls I pick up after a show—it doesn’t soften the hit to my ego. So this is what it feels like. To be on the other side. To be the one pushed away. Fuck, I don’t think I like it.
“You’re right about the good dying young, Pax,” she whispers. “And I know you don’t know me. I know I have no say in what you do with your life. I know you’re an untouchable rockstar, but…you should quit.”
“So?” I repeat. “So, you’re a rockstar and I’m… Pax, I’m no one.” She slips out from beneath me and reaches for her clothes. “I’m not even a groupie. I’m just…some girl you hooked up with after a concert one time. Add me to the list, am I right?”
“Can I at least have your number?” “No.” I jerk back, trying not to be offended, though it isn’t exactly easy. Not when she seems so distant and unaffected. “Why not?” I ask. “Because we already agreed to one night only and you’re not allowed to chase me.” “Then don’t run,” I suggest.
She’s hiding something from me. I just can’t figure out what it is. “Why won’t you give me your number?” I ask. “Because I’m…because I’m already with someone.” “With someone,” I repeat, feeling less than convinced. This girl spews more bullshit than a lactose intolerant person after a pound of cheesecake and a bottle of Ex-Lax to wash it down.
But it’s been years, Arch. Years since you left. Since your life was ripped from you. And it’s weird. Because it feels like it was yesterday. Like you were just here. Just a text away. That I’ll see you at brunch…or at least I would if I still went to them.
Hell, it feels like it’s been so long that I don’t even know how to live without it. The pain. The constant ache. The reminder that you’re gone and everyone else is still here. Living.
What am I saying? Of course, it doesn’t make sense. I’m writing to a dead person. None of this makes sense. All I know is I’m tired. So damn tired, Arch. I don’t know what else to do. How can I let someone go when they were never mine to begin with?
Now? Now, I’m afraid I’m as much of a ghost as you are. But maybe it’s how it’s supposed to be.
Soon after, Archer passed away in a car accident. He was an organ donor, and Mav got his heart, shattering mine in the process. Our families call it a miracle. Maybe it is, but I can’t help but hold a grudge against fate for fucking him over like that. Archer was…he was as close to perfect as a person can be. Thoughtful. Caring. Kind. Charismatic. Genuine. He was amazing.
Her voice cuts through my thoughts. I shift my cell to my other ear, attempting to focus on our conversation instead of getting lost in the past. In the plaguing what ifs that never seem to rest despite the years they’ve haunted me.
Lips pursed, she gives Hades a scratch behind his ears. “Play nice, Hades. I know Tatum seems like she needs a bite in the ass every now and then, but let’s give someone else that job, okay?”
