I tug at my hand so she’ll release it, because there’s no way I’m going to take her near toxic Gabe. She gives me a weak smile and finally lets go.
Of course, Gabe looks pissed when I step next to his table. His stick of a girlfriend gives me her usual sex eyes. She gives anyone in a band sex eyes. I ignore her like always. Never been adverse to trailer trash until her.
“Hey, I need to borrow your truck,” I say, getting right to the point. Being nice to this asshole isn’t going to help.
He reaches for his beer. “Screw that. My truck might be a piece of shit, but your drunk, high ass ain’t driving it.”
“Haven’t had a drink.”
The beer in his hand pauses midway to his mouth.
“Sober as your grandma.”
“My grandma drinks a bottle of Wild Irish Rose a night.” His chin lifts and he nods toward the rear exit. “You haven’t gone out back with Sam?”
“Nope, and I need to take her home.” I gesture at Allie behind me. His weasel eyes roam over her and I want to punch him.
“That the girl you were singing to?”
“Quit being a dick. Just give me your keys. I’ll put some gas in.”
He takes a swig of his beer slower than shit to piss me off. Setting it down, he says, “Full tank and I get front next time we go to Detroit.”
What is this? Fucking grade school? “Fine.”
He slides the keys across the table. “It’s parked on the left side of the block.”
I snatch the keys up without a good-bye.
Allie watches me cautiously as I step toward her. I lift and jingle the keys. “I can give you a ride home.”
She frowns at the keys. “Um…could we look for Holly one more time?”
I’m not sure if she doesn’t want a ride home from me or doesn’t want to leave Holly without telling her. Damn, I’m hoping it’s the second. “Sure,” I say, grabbing her hand for another tour around the bar. I’m hoping Sam and Holly stay in the alley out back a little longer.
Luckily for me, Holly’s nowhere in sight, and in minutes we’re outside. Allie doesn’t say anything about Gabe’s rust bucket as I open the door for her. I can’t help noticing the curve of her ass as she climbs in.
Inside, she gives me the directions to her apartment complex while looking straight ahead. I know where it is. I’ve been there. Two or three times. Different girls each time though.
As I drive, I try to make small talk by asking about school and the shop. She answers in a monotone, and her answers aren’t more than one or two words. Her head’s back and her eyes are almost closed. I’m racking my brain for how to save the moment. It feels like we’re already at the end of something immense that never truly started. My tat is done. I could do another one, but I need to wait a few months unless I want to appear pathetic. My other choice would be to look like a stalker as I roam around campus on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, trying to act casual while I search for a glimpse of her auburn hair or olive branch–tatted arm or that purposeful gait I’ve come to recognize.
At the huge complex, she directs me to the building where her apartment is.
I’m strangely, stupidly torn up inside the closer we get. I find a parking spot near her building. She unclasps her seat belt.
“Which one is it?”
She points to the second floor.
“Let me walk you up,” I say, unclasping my seat belt. I’m not looking for anything more than to prolong the time in her presence. I’m desperate for more.
I get around the car to find her staring up at a dark window. She wraps her arms around her waist. Sighing, she appears lost and disoriented.
“Allie?” She doesn’t look away from the window. “You okay?”
“You don’t have to walk me up.”
My hand reaches for hers. “I do. I’d go crazy all night wondering if you’d made it.”
With heavy-lidded eyes, she stares at me for a long moment. She takes in a deep breath. “All right then.”
Hand in hand again, we move across the sidewalk and up the stairs. Her steps are wobbly. On the landing, she almost trips, but as I reach for her waist, she pushes me against the railing, shoves her hands into my hair, and covers my lips with hers, catching me in open-mouthed shock.
Her ring presses into my lip as her mouth moves over mine. Her attack has me against, then bending over, the rail until habit and lust take over. My hands find the small of her back and my tongue the taste of her mouth. She sucks my tongue deeper—holy hell—then pulls away with a little nervous giggle.
“Gah. I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Inside a pant, I say in a low voice, “Kiss me or kiss someone on the stairs?”
Another nervous laugh escapes her. “Maybe both?” She grabs my hand and hauls me up the rest of the stairs.
Still astonished, I let her.
At her door, she surprises me again by falling forward and kissing me. Her mouth is hot and wet on mine. Her hands search under my shirt, caressing my stomach then ribs. She finds my nipple ring. Her thumb circles the metal as her tongue wraps around mine.
Holy double hell.
I grab her ass, jerk her up, and set her on my dick. Her legs wrap around me as we fall against the door. The kissing turns frantic. It sings of sex, sex, sex. Our mouths suck at each other until I pull her head back by her curls and slide my teeth along her neck. Letting out a groan, she sluggishly slides down my body, unlocks the door, and yanks on my shirt to drag me into the dark interior.
Without thinking, I put my hands on the doorframe and resist.
“You’re not coming in?” she says, her grip slackening. In the shadows of light from outside her door, her gray eyes glitter with confusion.
I want to. I want her. Bad. But I’m frozen. What the hell is wrong with me? “I can’t,” I say in a rush of air. “Need to get the truck back.”
Her fingers slowly release my shirt, and she steps back. “Oh.”
Though the living room is dark, I can read the rejection on her face. I reach for her hand and tug her closer. “I want to badly,” I say, brushing her cheek with mine and watching as her lids flutter closed. “I just…the truck,” I repeat. What I’m really thinking is that this has one-night stand written all over it, with her all buzzed up and not acting like the Allie I’m starting to know. And suddenly, even though every single part of my body is pushing me to walk through the door with her, I know I can’t. I’m not exactly sure what I want from her, but the emptiness of a one-night stand and the inevitable awkward morning isn’t it.
To avoid temptation, I’m careful not to touch her when I lean down. “But I want to see you again,” I whisper into her ear. “Soon.” I give in to the urge and let my lips slide over the skin of her cheek. She leans into me. My tongue traces her lip ring. “Let me take you to dinner.”
Her head wobbles slightly. “Huh? Dinner? No. Um…maybe coffee,” she murmurs.
This girl is trying to drive me nuts. She’ll drag me into her apartment for sex, but getting a date out of her is like pulling teeth. “Okay then, coffee.”
I give her another quick kiss and then take off, rushing down the stairs we just stumbled up before I change my mind and push her inside to take her against the back of the door to her apartment. Getting into the truck, I glance up and see a shadow in her apartment window. By the time I raise my hand to wave, the silhouette is gone.
