Faking It (Losing It, #2)(42)

My heart thumped. I wanted him. I’d been attracted to him before, and now it had only grown. Tonight had been so perfect. He’d said all the right things, and made me think, and pushed me to be myself. Which is exactly why I didn’t need to date him. My dating history was toxic, and he was the last person I wanted to taint. We could be friends. I’d needed a friend like him my entire life. He called me on my bullshit and made me less afraid.

And yet, when he looked at me and his skin touched mine . . . friendship was the last thing on my mind.

My phone buzzed, and I jumped at the chance to escape. I pulled away to answer it, but the name on the screen made @anm,me pause.

Mace.

The conversation with Cade had put me in a peaceful place that I didn’t want to destroy. I hit ignore, but just seeing his name had ruined some of the luster of the evening.

It had been a long day, and all the emotions of it hit me all at once. Maybe all I needed was sleep. I asked Cade for a rain check on the drink, and he volunteered to walk me home. I was happy for the company because his presence kept my mind from dwelling on the things it shouldn’t be dwelling on . . . like how things were spiraling out of control with Mace. And the rockier our relationship became, the more disruptive he was toward the band, which meant more than whatever was going on between us.

When we reached my block, Cade held open my apartment building door for me.

“Your landlord still hasn’t fixed this lock?” He followed me up the stairs and said, “You should let him have it, Angry Girl. That’s ridiculous. It’s not safe to leave it like this where anyone can get in.”

I kept climbing the stairs and smiled at him over my shoulder. “I know . . . some complete psycho could creep into my apartment while I sleep . . . naked.”

We reached my floor and he said, “You’re right. I could do that.”

I laughed and gave him a playful push. His hands caught my arms, and he pulled me closer to him. My stomach felt like I’d just gone down the drop of a huge roller coaster. I licked my lips and he said, “Really though, please make your landlord take care of the door. If he doesn’t, I will.”

His face was stern, and it gave me goose bumps.

I tried to play off the way he affected me with humor. I rolled my eyes and said, “Yes, Master. Anything else you’d like to order me to do?”

His eyes darkened, and something contracted low in my belly. A whimper built in my throat, and I was seconds away from throwing myself at him when I heard someone call my name.

“Max?”

The clenching in my belly turned painful. Cade’s hands loosened on my forearms, and I turned to face Mace.

He’d been sitting outside my door and was climbing to his feet. He lumbered down the hall, one hand on the wall to steady himself.

He was trashed.

I took a step away from Cade and asked, “Mace, what are you doing here?”

“Clearly not having as much fun NQU3T"as>I lifted my c





25

Cade

I was torn.

Part of me wanted to tell her it wasn’t a good idea, that she should take the night to cool off and think. Another part of me was already thinking of how she would look on the dance floor. And then in the back of my mind was the tempting thought that I should take her into her apartment and prove that she was anything but boring.

As usual, the responsible choice won out.

“Max . . . it’s been a long day. Are you sure you don’t want to do something a little less—”

She cut me off. “I want to dance, Golden Boy. I can do that with or without you.” She turned that killer pout on me and added, “Though being alone really isn’t the safest option.” She batted her eyes and smiled. She already knew she’d won.

“When I blow your mind with my dance moves, I expect an apology.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the stairs after her. “We’ll see who blows whose mind.”



We hailed a cab and headed north, into my area of the city. We pulled up outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse in a less than stellar neighborhood. I should know because it was mine. I’d passed by this place numerous times and just figured it was probably abandoned and filled with homeless people.

I asked her, “Did you want to dance or get murdered?” fingernails scrape back owI wondered if

I paid the cabbie and slid out of the car. Max grabbed my hand and started tugging me toward the warehouse.

“Relax, Golden Boy. I think you’ll like this place.”

I liked her. Too much for my own good.

I could feel the vibrations from the music before we even entered the building. It didn’t look like your typical club. There were couches and artwork painted onto the walls that made it feel like a cross between a friend’s apartment and a graffitied street corner. A lot of buildings around the city were covered in murals that spanned multiple stories. There was similar art on the walls here, but it was smaller, and up close you could see all the detail work.

Max said, “Welcome to the Garage.”

This place pulsed with the same vibrancy that bled from Max’s every word and movement. It matched her. So yeah, she was right. I liked it.

It didn’t feel like normal clubs that were packed tight and reeked of sweat with modern, upscale fixtures. This place had a heartbeat all its own. It had soul.