Leaving Amarillo(77)
“Sorry I forced you to do something you didn’t want to do,” I spit out at him. My hands shoot forward, my palms striking him against his broad chest. “I f*cking hate that shirt.”
He grabs my wrists with one hand and wrenches them into the tight space between our bodies while bracing his other one beside my head. I’m a willing hostage between brick and Gavin’s solid body.
“You didn’t force me to do shit.” His breath tickles the side of my face. “And don’t hate on the shirt. Especially now that you know it’s telling the truth.”
My pulse races at the reminder, not that I could’ve possibly forgotten. The memory of last night has played on repeat behind my eyes nearly every second since.
Shoving myself against him in a weak attempt at pushing him away, I try my best not to inhale his intoxicating scent. Masculine soap, a faint hint of tobacco, and undertones from the cologne I bought him for his birthday.
“You’re an *.”
“True, but completely beside the point at the moment. How about you tell me what’s really got you so upset and we go from there?”
My chest rises and falls between us, barely grazing his as I pull in much-needed breaths.
“I-I don’t even know how to explain it exactly.”
“Try.” The force of the command in his voice is only half as harsh as the punishing glare in his gaze.
“Okay.” I recall what Mandy said about band members not needing to fight in front of the influential audience members inside. I don’t want to lie to him, but the last thing I need is Gavin defending my worth to Dallas or arguing publicly with Mandy. Settling on a lie of omission, I pause to lick my lips and lift my chin. “I overheard someone saying the band would be better off if I wasn’t a part of it. Not just anyone, either. Someone who would know—someone who matters.”
“Dixie. Listen to me.” He leans closer and I feel the anger from where I stand. “Whoever said that is a f*cking moron. You are what makes this band. You are why people stop drinking or texting or whatever the hell it is they’re doing and pay attention. Don’t ever let me hear you say that we would be better off without you again. Understood?”
I hear myself let out a breathless sound and then a whimpered, “Okay,” while still locked in his stare.
“Do not make those noises. Unless you want our second time to be in this alley.”
We’re so close that his lips brush mine as he speaks and I can’t help but smile against them. “Technically it would be our fourth time. Our second time was in the shower. The third time was in that chair by the window. Try and keep up.”
His hands fall to my backside and his fingers press into my flesh. I’m not sure if I rock my hips forward or he does, but the part of me that’s throbbing with need brushes against his obvious arousal.
“You’re going to get us into trouble, Dixie Leigh.”
I shiver when his head drops onto my shoulder and his teeth graze my neck. “I think maybe I like trouble,” I whisper. “A lot.”
It feels like home in his arms, safe and warm, protected from the judging eyes of an unfamiliar audience and Mandy’s painfully honest observations. The deep cadence from Gavin’s rumble of low laughter tickles me behind the ear and I squirm. Turning my head when a metal door clangs shut I see that we’re no longer alone.
Straightening myself upright immediately, I watch Gavin take a necessary but excruciating step backward. Dallas’s horrified anger is obvious enough to be a tangible thing even from five feet away. His fists are clenched at his sides when he stalks over to us. The sickening fear that those fists might be about to slam into his best friend’s face sends my body into panic mode.
“What in the ever-loving f*ck is going on out here?”
I barely hear him over the pounding of my heart. An inferno of fiery rage flares in his face and heats my skin with the shame of being caught like this.
“Nothing,” I answer quickly, ignoring Gavin’s entreating gaze. “I wasn’t feeling well. I got sick and was upset about . . . about what I heard Mandy tell you. Gavin was comforting me.”
Dallas’s rage is somewhat diluted by guilt. His eyes soften, cooling a few degrees when they land on me. “Dix, she didn’t mean that. I talked to her, explained. She—”
“She said I was holding you back, Dallas. Maybe she’s right.” I shrug, despite the soul-stinging pain of knowing she might be.
“What happened to her getting us, D? I thought she liked our sound. Dixie is damn sure a part of that sound.” Gavin’s stance has changed and now he has clenched fists, too.
I realize that I just inadvertently revealed that Mandy was the one who’d upset me a second too late.
“It’s more complicated than that. Dixie only heard part of the conversation.” Dallas shoots a fleeting look of sympathy at me before turning a hardened glare on Gavin. “Speaking of complicated, in the future, if my little sister is upset, you tell her to come talk to me. And from now on, you comfort her from arm’s f*cking length.”
“I don’t take orders—not even from you, Dallas. And right now, I’m not real happy about the way you let your new friend run her mouth about your little sister. And for the record, she’s not anybody’s little anything and she’s standing right here so how about not talking about her like she isn’t.”