It should have been me. I should have been the one who nudged her beyond her feelings for that asshole in her past. Instead, it had been her lustful fantasies over Jordan.
Anyone but him.
I mirrored her crossed arms. “Past tense?” I needed to know. Had to hear her say it again.
She blinked. “What?”
“How you felt about Jordan.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She scrunched a handful of her curls. They sprang beautifully into place, framing her heart-shaped face. “Honestly, it wasn’t so much feelings as I just wanted to bang him.”
So, the second time hearing that theoretically should’ve felt less like a scapula carving out my heart before serving it to Hannibal Lecter. And yet, no.
“You never went for it?”
“Uh, you’re at my house all the time. Did you ever see him there?” When I didn’t answer—because there was a rock in my throat—she shook her head. “I mean, he’s a good guy, but it’s not like that with him. It was a thing, then it wasn’t. He never saw me as anything other than furniture anyway.”
“How could he not?”
She stopped scrunching long enough to arch a brow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been labeled cute as a button all my life, and some guys aren’t into adorable?” She wrinkled her nose. “Like kittens and bunnies and redheads with a ton of freckles and braces.”
“You don’t have braces anymore.”
“Thank God.”
“You’re beautiful and funny and smart. And smart-assed.” To save the moment from being weird, I reached out to yank on one of her bouncy curls. “What’s not to like?”
“I’ll remind you of that when my snoring keeps you awake.”
Thinking about us sleeping within the same four walls sent my mind spinning into a place it definitely should not go. “It didn’t this morning.”
“You were down the hall. I was just getting started.”
“Oh, it gets worse, huh?”
“Yeah. Especially when my allergies are acting up or I’m overtired.”
“After a night of that wine-soaked sex you mentioned earlier.” This time, when I touched her hair, the backs of my fingers brushed her cheek. Her throat bobbed, and I knew I should move back.
But I didn’t.
“Been awhile for me, gotta say.” Her voice was unnaturally cheerful, much like her expression. Her pupils, however, were huge. “Though I find ways to get the job done.”
“Do you?” I rubbed my knuckles along her jaw. Her skin was so fucking soft. I wanted to explore more of her and watch her lashes flutter, much as they were doing right now. “With or without wine?”
“I meant without the man.”
“Oh, I understood that part. Just wondered if you need a little…lubrication to get you to that place.”
Her lower lip trembled before she grinned. “I can handle that part all on my own.”
“Mmm. I bet you can.” I didn’t know what impulse made me step forward until I was crowding her even more. Some dominant part of me liked that she had to crane her neck to look up at me.
A muscle twitched madly under her jaw. Or maybe that was her pulse, hammering just like mine was in the head of my goddamned cock at being this close to her. Her juicy peaches scent would be branded on my skin.
“So, we gotta go. Out there—with our band. Where they’re waiting. For us. You know?” She stumbled backward into the wall.
Suddenly, I was calm as could be as I reached out to steady her. “You all right?”
“Fine. Awesome.” She evaded my grasp while her gaze tracked over my shoulder. Silent but hulking was probably watching our byplay.
Even with Riggs right behind me, it was nearly impossible for me not to grin. I’d affected her. She didn’t know what to make of it, and maybe she wouldn’t like it once she figured it out, but for one moment there, I’d been firmly dislodged from the friend zone.
And thank fuck she was looking anywhere but at my groin right now, because the current situation was hard as hell.
“Then why are you so jumpy?”
“Just tired. Noises still spook me. Plus, leftover nerves from last night at the club, and oh, my place almost being reduced to dust. The usual.”
“You’re sure that’s all it is?” Not that any of those things alone wouldn’t be more than enough. But my battered ego in her direction just wanted a small bone.
Yeah, probably shouldn’t think about that particular analogy right now.
“Of course. What else would it be?”
I dropped an arm around her shoulders. Casual. Light. Best friendly-like. Kill me. “You know we won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know. Noah has it handled.”
I slid my arm away. “Right. Chuckles always has everything under control.”
“Back on the Chuckles brigade.” She rolled her eyes.
“Oz is onto something.”
She sighed. “He’s just doing his job. I don’t know why you guys have to get all bitchy about it.”
“Did you just say bitchy?” I nudged her shoulder.
“Shut up.”
She sailed into the U-shaped cluster of our friends, shaking that ridiculously delectable ass of hers. Some days, I hated my job. Especially when my current level of self-inflicted torture was at somewhere around an eleven.
Then again, being twisted up with want was better than focusing on someone possibly wanting to do her harm. That it could be her ex somehow made it even worse.
I jammed my fists into my pockets so it wasn’t so obvious that I had less than innocent thoughts about everyone’s favorite little sister. Watching our bandmates’ faces soften as she came toward them made me feel even more like an asshole.
Until the appreciative gaze of Jonas Decker made my palms itch. He was the owner of Purgatory, a slick Mick with his perfect black-on-black suit that probably cost the same as my entire drum set. A ruby stone winked from his forefinger in a thick, hammered pewter ring that looked like it belonged on Game of Thrones.
The minute Teag got close to the circle of our band mates, Decker started spinning his ring with his thumb.
Every man had a tell.
It was just a flicker of
