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Автор книги: Kylie Scott

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“Reece left a while back,” I confirmed, picking through the chunks of donut. Delicious.

“Hard not to think less of you there.”

“Why?”

Mal took a sip of coffee, eyeing me over the rim. “You like the douche. You like him a lot.”

I filled my mouth with food. Such a great excuse for not answering. If I chewed really slowly it could kill the entire conversation.

“Even with you giving me crazy eyes, I could tell,” he unfortunately continued. “You’re just lucky I’m not the jealous type.”

I choked down the mother load of food in my mouth. “Is that why you started up with the sex adventure stories?”

He laughed, low and mocking. But who he was laughing at exactly, I couldn’t tell.

“Mal?”

“He shows up here, fresh from a night out drinking and fucking, fully expecting to find you waiting with open arms … I didn’t like it.”

“We’re just friends.”

He looked away, licked his lips. “Anne.”

The disappointment in his voice stung. I wanted to make excuses. Roll out the old standards. I wanted to protect myself. But I didn’t even know what I was protecting myself from. Mal hadn’t attacked me. His quiet reproof slipped past my guard in a way Lauren’s lectures and demands never could.

“Thing is, you’re both straight,” he said. “Men and women as friends doesn’t really work. One person’s always into the other. Fact of life.”

“Yes, I like him,” I admitted. “I have for a while now. He, ah … he doesn’t see me that way.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. He sure as fuck didn’t like finding me here.” Mal set down his cup and leaned against the corner of the faded gray kitchen counter, arms braced on either side. His damp hair slid forward, shielding his face. “Were you planning on using me to make him jealous?”

“Manipulating him and being an asshat to you? No, I hadn’t planned on doing that. But thank you for asking.”

“No skin off my nose.” He shrugged. “And he’s a douche who deserves what he gets. Turning up here, acting like you owe him something.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m sorry he was rude to you. I had a word with him. That won’t happen again.”

He snorted out a laugh. “You don’t have to protect me, Anne. I’m not that delicate.”

“Beside the point.” I took a sip of coffee.

“You know, I can live with you using me to get at him. Hell, we’re already using each other, right?”

Something in the way he said it stopped me. If only he wasn’t hiding behind his hair, I could see him better, gauge where this was going.

“No reason why we can’t milk this baby for all it’s worth,” he said.

“You’d do that for me?”

He half smiled. “If that’s what you want. Pushing asswipe’s buttons is too easy but I’m willing to make the effort. Hell, this body was born to make mortal men jealous.”

I smiled back at him, cautiously. Not committing to anything. This situation called for serious thought. The temptation to leap was huge.

“I do think he’s right about one thing. You can do better.” Green eyes stared me down. There was amusement there, as always. He seemed to be daring me, pushing me to see what happened. I really wanted to push back.

“But whatever,” he said, rolling his shoulders back in some sort of overdeveloped shrug. “Your call. After all, you’ve known this guy for how long?”

“Two years.”

“Two years you’ve been into him and never done a thing about it? You must have your reasons, right?”

“Right,” I said, sounding not the least bit believable.

He laughed and right then, I disliked him just a little. I’d never openly admitted my thing for Reece to anyone and here was Mal, ever so sweetly rubbing my face in it. Thing was, the status quo with Reece was infinitely preferable to anything I’d had since I was sixteen. If he settled down with someone else, my heart wouldn’t be broken. But who knew, we might get together one day.

Why act when doing so little was serving me so well?

The big blond guy mocked me with his eyes, smirk in place. He knew. I don’t know how he knew, but he definitely did. Man, I hated being a foregone conclusion, especially to him. Hated it with the passion of a thousand fiery hells.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

He stopped laughing.

“I’m serious. I want to make Reece jealous. If you’re still willing to help me, of course.”

“Said I would not a minute ago. Didn’t think you’d actually go for it, but …” He picked up his cup of coffee and drained it. “This should be interesting. Exactly how much do you know about being a heartbreaker?”

“I need to be a heartbreaker?” Across the other side of the living room, the bathroom door stood wide open. A wet towel sat forgotten in the middle of the floor. Mal’s boxer briefs lay abandoned alongside.

I needed to do some cleaning today.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No.”

Funny, when Skye had lived here, I’d usually wound up doing the bulk of the tidying for her too. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time. A leftover habit from running a household early, most likely.

“What is it, Anne?”

“Your towel and dirty clothes are on the bathroom floor.” I pointed to them, just in case he’d forgotten where the bathroom was.

“Random change of topic.” Mal sidled up next to me, standing closer than he needed to. “But you’re right. They are indeed decorating the floor and doing a lovely job too.”

He said no more.

The dirty laundry lay there, taunting me. And I’m pretty sure that Mal in his silence did the same. Either that or I was a neurotic mess. It was a close call.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, pumpkin?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“I really don’t like you calling me that.”

He made a dismissive noise in his throat.

I sighed. This was one war I’d likely never win. If taking over the care of a thirteen-year-old had taught me anything, it was to pick my battles.

“That’s not my problem,” I said.

“No?”

“You need to tidy up after yourself,” I said firmly.

“That a boundary I’m hearing there?”

I stood taller. “Yes, it is. I’m not your mommy. You need to pick up your shit, Mal.”

He grinned. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Thanks.” I smiled back at him, feeling lighter already. “What was that about being a heartbreaker?”

“You’re going to smash me in two, after showing the jerkwad what a momentous girlfriend you make, of course.”

I’d only ever been on the receiving end of heartbreak. But fuck that too. Bad habits could be broken. “I can do that.”

Mal looked away.

“I can.”

“Not doubting you, pumpkin. Not doubting you at all.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lauren barged in a bit before six in the evening. Or she tried to. The door rattled. Next came the swearing and banging.

“Anne! What’s wrong with your door?”

I undid the new sliding bolt and she thundered into the room.

“Your door’s broken,” she said, her brow creased.

“No, Mal had a new lock put on it. He was worried about security.”

A bald, muscular man had appeared after Mal disappeared off to band practice. Apparently, rock stars outsourced household chores to the head of their security team. This guy had the new sliding bolt installed in no time. He was eerily efficient and uberpolite. The whole experience had weirded me out a little.

“Hey, wow. You look great.” I said, taking in her slick dress and hairdo. A beautiful white orchid sat behind her ear. “What are you all dressed up for? Where are you off to?”

“What, this old thing?” She smoothed a hand over the slinky caramel-colored silk dress. “Thanks. And can I just take a moment to say, awesome job landing Malcolm Ericson. He probably doesn’t deserve you, but go you.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“When he told me the story, I couldn’t believe it. Love at first sight. That’s beautiful.” Shit, her eyes actually misted up. “I think you’ll be wonderful together. And why aren’t you dressed, by the way?”

“Huh?”

Right then, Mal strode out of the second bedroom in a black three-piece suit. Since when had wearing a vest looked so fucking hot? My lungs shrunk a size. Either that or the oxygen in the room had been mixed wrong. He was beyond slick with his hair tucked back behind his ears, the angular line of his jaw perfectly smooth. I’d barely gotten used to him half naked and now he was throwing Armani at me. I never stood a chance. Prostrating myself at his feet was the obvious reaction to such a heavenly sight. How I managed to remain upright I have no idea.

Forget Bond and his ilk. I’d take a drummer in a suit any day of the week.

With a low wolf whistle, Lauren looked him over. “Malcolm. Who’s a pretty boy?”

“Only pumpkin is allowed to objectify me,” he said, straightening his cuffs. French cuffs with cufflinks.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, then smacked a hand over my mouth because crap, my mouth. It was an idiot determined to make an ass out of me.

“Anytime.” He winked. The liar.

“Your pumpkin needs to get ready,” said Lauren, ignoring our carrying on.

He looked me over and frowned. “Anne, Davie wants everyone dressed up. You can’t go in jeans and a T-shirt.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The party. Pumpkin, c’mon. We don’t have time to mess around.”

I shook my head, clueless. “Okay, you two. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Will someone please clue me in?”

“I told you about this.”

“Like you told me about you moving in here?”

“You didn’t tell her you were moving in with her?” asked Lauren, voice low and deadly.

“It was a surprise,” he said, recovering quickly. “A great big beautiful romantic gesture because I knew how much my Anne wanted me with her. She was just too shy to say so. Look at her! The woman practically worships the ground I walk on. And you heard her, demanding I sexually service her at all hours of the day. I can’t do that shit from afar, you know?”

Lauren raised a brow. “You told me she okayed it and had forgotten to give you a key, Mal.”

“Which was basically the truth.” He threw his hands out wide. “C’mon, ladies, we don’t have time for this.”

“Anne, I’m so sorry,” said Lauren.

“It’s fine. I’m happy he’s here.” And though a tempting idea, throwing something at him right now wouldn’t actually help. I took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. “Let’s get back to the ‘What the hell is going on here’ question. We’re meant to go to something formal tonight, I take it?”

“I told you.” He pulled out his phone, flicked through a few screens then shoved it in front of my face. “I’m a fucking great boyfriend, see?”

The message on screen read: AMEX ON TABLE. DRESS UP TONIGHT. My name, however, was nowhere in sight. Sure enough, over on the dining room table a black credit card sat waiting. I’d figured he’d just forgotten the thing. Him leaving it for me to go on a spending spree had never crossed my mind.

“It says you sent this to someone called Angie,” I said tightly. “Not me, Mal.”

“I did?” He glared at the phone. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Who’s Angie?” asked Lauren.

“Fucked if I know, but apparently she’s still looking for the card.” He laughed. “As if I’d give it to just anyone. Right, sorry. Anyway, Anne, can you throw something on? We gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Out.”

I scowled at him and didn’t move an inch. “Try again.”

“It’s a thing at David and Ev’s, a wedding anniversary party. Not that it’s even been a year, but whatever. Davie put lots of effort into it and asked us all to dress up. I’m sorry I screwed up telling you.” He fell to his knees, hands clasped to his chest. “Please? I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. See, look, I’m on my knees, Anne. I’m groveling just for you.”

“Okay. I’ll go. Next time, please make sure I get the message.”

“I will. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he gushed. “You’re the best, pumpkin.”

There was only one really good dress in my wardrobe. A vintage black lace dress from the fifties. I’d bought it for my twenty-first birthday last year. I liked to believe I’d just stepped off the set of Mad Men in it. Luckily, my hair wasn’t looking too bad hanging loose. Some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss were about as primed as I could get in less than five minutes. One of these days I’d have time to go all out getting ready to meet the members of Stage Dive. Just not today.

Out in the living room, the pair of them bickered.

“I can’t believe you accidentally messaged some stray instead of your girlfriend,” said Lauren.

“Does my girlfriend seem bothered? No. So remind me again, what business is it of yours, hmm?”

“If you hurt her, Ev and I are going to take turns disemboweling you with a shovel. Be warned.”

A gruesome mental image, but I had to smile. It felt good to have friends watching my back.

Mal scoffed. “You can’t disembowel someone with a shovel.”

“Sure you can. It’s just messier.”

He grunted.

“Anyway, why are you in the spare bedroom? She sick of you already?”

“Gotta put my shit somewhere, Anne’s closet is packed. You girls, no idea about sharing.”

I shut the bedroom door and started shrugging out of my jeans, pulling off my shirt. Next came the panties. The neckline on the dress was wide and strapless bras always dug into my sides. There were few torture devices more horrible than a strapless bra. It wasn’t like my breasts were big. The girl in the mirror looked good and happily, the dress still fit just fine. No way could I do up the zipper on the back however. I slid my feet into my super-high black heels saved for special occasions and headed on out, trying to hold my dress together.

“Lauren, would you mind–”

“That’s my job now.” Mal smiled and stepped behind me. “Cool dress. Classy.”

“Thanks.”

Mal leaned in closer, his breath warming my neck as he slowly did up the back. I immediately broke out into goose bumps.

“I never noticed how long your neck is. It’s very nice.”

“Mm.”

“And you have sweet little ears.”

“Um, thanks.”

“No bra?” he asked, his voice casual.

“No. With this dress, I can’t … We don’t actually need to discuss this right now.”

The tips of his fingers trailed up my spine, ahead of the zipper. I got shivery, the English language leaving my mind.

“That’s going to be a hell of a distraction, pumpkin,” he breathed. “Trying to look down the front of your dress all night.”

The look he gave me made me quiver in strange places. This was the problem; my inability to tell if he was serious or not. The whole scene was about establishing ourselves as a couple for Lauren’s benefit, right? It just didn’t feel like it for some reason. It felt personal. With Mal touching me, I kind of forgot Lauren was even in the room. She was, however, most definitely present.

Lauren groaned, loudly. “Oh good god, my ears are bleeding.”

He made me feverish without even trying. I needed to guard my reactions and keep it together. It was the only way this would work.

“Thank you,” I said, as my dress finished tightening around my chest and settled into place.

“My pleasure.”

I expected him to move back. He didn’t. If anything, he got closer. The warm male scent of him, the iron-hard feel, all of it got closer and closer. I tried to bend away from him in an effort to preserve what remained of my sanity, but he just followed. Overwhelming didn’t cover it.

“Guys.” Lauren was tapping her foot. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”

“Ignore her. She’s just jealous of our love.” Mal’s arm came around my middle, holding me to him. The press of his hardening cock against my rear could not be mistaken. I know we were supposed to be playing the couple, but was rubbing his penis against me really necessary? Me liking it was beside the point. Don’t even go there.

“Yes, Malcolm, I’m jealous of your love. That’s it.” Lauren shook her head slowly. “Come on, let’s get moving. Nate will be waiting and he doesn’t wait well.”

“We better go,” I said.

“Yeah.” His voice was soft and dreamy, and spoke of good, hard times in bed. Then he shook his head, gave me his usual grin. “Pumpkin, stop rubbing your ass against me. We gotta go! I don’t have time to do you now. Prioritize, woman.”

Sometimes the temptation to hit him was so huge.

***

Twice the crowd had gathered at David and Ev’s condo tonight. They varied in age from young teens to elderly, from conservative to edgy. All of them primped to perfection. Every inch of David and Ev’s condo had been decorated, also. White candles of every size sat in clusters around the room. Vases filled with bright bouquets were on every available flat surface. The ring of fine crystal and the popping of champagne corks battled classic rock for supremacy. Tonight’s vibe leaned heavily toward the romantic.

There was a buzz in the air, one of expectation. It was exciting.

Mal kept a tight hold on my hand, his big, warm fingers encasing mine. I took my cues from him, staying close to his side. Whenever some sexy siren tried to approach him he basically shoved me at them with a “Meet my girlfriend, Anne.” I’d almost tripped the first few times he’d used me as a human shield, but I was getting the hang of it now. With the last one I’d just held up a hand and said “He’s with me.” She’d taken it with relatively good grace.

“I thought that one was going to hit me,” I said, watching the disappointed girl stalk off into the crowd. “Being your girlfriend is dangerous.”

“What can I say? I’m a magnificent specimen of manhood. Of course they all want me. But I do appreciate you protecting my honor.”

“I should hope so.” I smiled.

“Come and meet Jimmy. This’ll give you a thrill.” He wound his way through the crowd, drawing me along behind him. “’Scuse us. Move please. Move.”

Jimmy Ferris stood beside the mantle like a painter had positioned him there. The man was living art. Dark hair brushed back, blue eyes bright. He was a lot like his brother, David, long and lean, but smoother and harder. More intense if it was possible. Maybe meeting Ev had chilled David out. Jimmy certainly lacked the lost-in-love eyes.

The dark looks he gave the woman at his side were far less than friendly. She kept her nose high in the air and ignored him. I’m not sure I could have maintained her pose of complete indifference so well. Jimmy Ferris had a lot of presence. There’d been all sorts of rumors going around about what he’d been up to since rehab. Given the size of him, I’d say lifting weights featured heavily. Ben was a big guy in general, heading on into lumberjack territory. But Jimmy appeared to have been working at it, hard.

“Jimbo,” said Mal, making room for me beside him. “This is my girlfriend, Anne. Anne, this is Jim.”

Yep, Jimmy gave me the same chin tip as the others. It was a secret handshake. So I gave him one back. He smiled, but only just. It was a fleeting thing.

Mal leaned down in front of me, getting in my face. “Nope. No crazy eyes. Your theory is bullshit, pumpkin. They’re only for me.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Jimmy,” I said, pushing my pretend partner out of the way.

“She still doing the eyes thing?” asked Jimmy.

Rock stars gossiped. There you go.

“Lust has no expiration date, Jimbo. And hello, Lena. You look very nice.” Mal offered his free hand to the woman at Jimmy’s side. The arctic chill of her manner turned equatorial in an instant. How strange.

“Mal. How are you?” The woman gave his fingers a brief squeeze, before offering her hand to me to shake. Brown hair fell past her shoulders and funky red plastic-rimmed glasses sat on her nose. “And this must be Anne. Great to meet you. Mal’s told me so much about you.”

“He has?” I shook her hand, returning her smile.

“At band practice today, you were all he could talk about,” she said.

“She’s the love of my life,” sighed Mal, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

“See? You’re the love of his life.” Lena gave me a charmed smile. Apparently it was only Jimmy she detested.

“This week,” said Jimmy.

With a small sigh, Lena half turned her head toward him. That was all it took.

Jimmy gave me a strained smile. “Sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.”

“Pumpkin, Lena is what we in the industry call ‘a babysitter’,” said Mal. “If you’re an unmitigated fucking asshole who doesn’t know how to behave, you get a gorgeous girl like Lena to follow you around, making sure you’re not a PR disaster for the record company.”

“I said I was sorry.” Jimmy stared out across the room, doing the same crinkly forehead thing his brother did. It kind of reminded me of James Dean.

“Hey.” Ben appeared on my free side, staring down at me from his lofty height. There was more chin tipping. All of the band members wore matching black suits, but Jimmy had lost the vest and added a thin black tie. Ben wore the tie but had ditched the vest and jacket and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up his strong arms. Both limbs were liberally inked. Tattoos and suits made for a damn good combination.

The quality of the eye candy tonight was off the scale. Mal still had them all beat, of course.

“Pumpkin, guess what?”

“What?”

Before I knew what was happening I’d been dipped back over his arm. The entire room had turned upside down. Fuck, was the front of my dress gaping? I slapped my hand down over my collarbone, just in case.

“Shit, Mal! Up.”

He immediately righted me. Blood rushed about inside my head and the room spun. Beside us, Ben and Lena laughed. I think Jimmy was busy doing his bored-stare thing. It was hard to see with my head still spinning. I’m pretty sure people were watching. If I heard an upside-down girl shouting obscenities, I’d probably take a look.

“No one saw anything,” Mal said, reading my mind. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Fine.”

His thumbs rubbed circles into my hip bones through the fabric of my dress. He held his face close to mine. “Sorry, pumpkin. I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay.”

He squinted down at me. “Is it really okay or are you just saying it’s okay and you’re going to bust my balls about it later?”

I thought about it for a moment to be sure. “No. But don’t do it again or I’ll hurt you.”

“Got it. No more throwing you around.”

“Thank you.”

“I won’t embarrass you again, Anne. Promise.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“See,” he said, his smile huge. “Our communication skills as a couple are fucking excellent. We’re working out great!”

“Yeah, we are,” I said, my heart elated. It was strange, we’d only known each other a few days but I trusted him. I liked him and I was really grateful to spend this time with him. After the disaster with Skye, I needed Malcolm Ericson in my life right now. Hell, after the last seven years I needed him. He brought out the sun.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

And then he kissed me and ruined everything.