Play (Stage Dive, #2)(41)

Written By: Kylie Scott



The shadows beneath his eyes had faded and he seemed more relaxed, stretching out his long limbs. Still, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “No, it wasn’t really. Go figure. Guess we should be sleeping on the couch every night from now on.”

“My bed is broken.”

He pushed back his hair, gave me a smile.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping?” I asked.

“A bit, I guess.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Dunno. It’s nothing.” He avoided my eyes.

“It’s something.” This was the first real in he’d given me. Or first vague in. Either way, I needed to take it. “What’s going on with you? What’s wrong? Sometimes I look at you and you seem so … ”

“What? I seem so what?”

“Sad.”

His face blanked, his hands settling on his hips. Tension radiated from his body like a force field. “Nothing’s going on. I told you that shit wasn’t up for discussion.”

“Sorry. I just thought maybe you’d like to talk about it.”

“Not up for discussion kinda means, I don’t want to talk about it. Got it?” His voice was hard and he used it like a weapon. Accordingly, it hurt.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Anger thinned his lips. “You know, Anne, you’re the last f*cking person who should be pushing me about anything. We had a deal, an understanding.”

Oh no, he did not. My chin jutted out. “And you’ve stuck to it so well.”

“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

“I went to the party. I played my part.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And you spent the night trying to prove you’re the world’s greatest lover or something. There wasn’t anyone around to see some of those kisses, Mal. They were all about you proving you’re the shit because that’s what you decided to do.”

“They were about more than that.” A muscle popped in his jaw. It was kind of impressive and a little scary. But screw him.

“Where they?”

“’Course they f*cking were.”

I stared at him, a little taken aback. “Okay. I didn’t realize. But don’t rip my head off for crossing a few lines because I’m worried about you. I don’t like seeing you sad either.”

“Fuck,” he swore and his face stilled. He linked his hands behind his head, muttering some more expletives. Then he let out a long breath, never taking his gaze off of me. His mood had shifted, the anger gone from the air. Ever so gently he reached out and traced my swollen bottom lip. “Looks sore.”

“It’s okay.” My voice wavered.

“I overdid it. Sorry.”

I wilted, the anger seeping straight out of me. His eyes were sad again and this time, it was all about me. I had no defense for that. “If the worst thing to happen to me is that you think it’s fun to kiss me and lie to people about me being pregnant with your child, my life will probably be pretty sweet.”

His smile lacked commitment, there and gone in an instant.

“Mal, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.” I should probably have shut up but I couldn’t. “It’s okay.”

He looked away.

“To be honest, I’m not exactly great at sharing either.” My hands flexed and fisted, flexed and fisted, as if to demonstrate the point. Awkward as all hell, I hated feeling helpless. Why couldn’t he just spill so I could try and fix whatever was wrong already?

“Can we stop talking about this now?” he asked the wall.

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” He reached out, tugged on a strand of my hair. Then his hand slid around to the back of my neck and he drew me in against him. Damn, he smelled good. I got giddy. Maybe there was also a little relief over the argument ending, hard to tell which. With my cheek pressed to Mal’s chest, my brain malfunctioned. I wrapped my arms around his waist, getting a solid hold on him just in case he changed his mind and tried to peel me off of him.

“That was our first fight,” he mumbled.

“Yeah. I won.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Pfft. Okay.” His arms tightened around me. “I’ll give you that one. But only because you’re being so childish about it.”

“Thanks.”

He breathed out hard. “I don’t want to fight again.”

“No,” I agreed wholeheartedly.

“Is it safe to come out yet?” Lizzy asked, peeking around the kitchen door. She gave Mal a quick once-over and then realized what she was doing and looked away. I didn’t blame her, but I didn’t like it. Man, now I was getting jealous of my own sister. Ridiculous, especially given the man had an army of women after him. If I planned to hang out with a rock star I’d need to get used to this.

“Your sister and I have to go have make-up sex now. It’s very important for the long-term health of our relationship.” Mal started forcibly stepping us toward the spare room. “But you have a good breakfast and a very nice day. Just leave the dishes; I’ll take care of ’em later. It was lovely to meet you, Lizzy.”

“Mal, you’re strangling me.” Or that’s what I tried to say. With my face pressed up against his hard chest, it came out garbled. Most likely my words were completely unintelligible.