Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(8)

Grant was on the stage, holding a microphone in his hand, singing with the lead singer of Bank Avenue. No, he was singing to the lead singer.

And not just any song…my song.

My hand fell onto the back of Miller’s chair as ice filled my veins. What the f*ck was happening?

“Shit, Ari,” Miller cried over the music. He stood abruptly. “This is not what it looks like.”

I threw my hand up in the air. “Save it.”

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more, but it was good for him that he realized it was a lost cause.

All I could do was stare as my boyfriend serenaded another woman with the song he had written for me. Cold fury took over, and rational thought fled my mind. The only thing that was there was Grant standing on stage in my favorite pair of his jeans and a black button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was perfectly tousled. His expression had the serenity that always took over when he got lost in his music.

Then, his eyes flickered open at the end of the second verse, and he stared straight ahead at the skinny bitch in an outfit much the same as I had found on the band’s website.

The chorus seemed to play over and over again. Their harmony blended together as if they had done this before.

Every time I see you. You make me feel better.

Every single day. You push away the pain.

You push away the memories.

You’re my life raft. In an endless ocean.

You saved me from drowning.

You saved me from myself.

You’re my life raft. In an endless ocean.

I waited there, paralyzed, until the end. The crowd erupted into cheers. Grant cracked a confident smile, looking out across the room at his many admirers. I knew the instant his eyes landed on me, and I could read his lips all the way across the bar.

Oh f*ck.

“Oh f*ck.”

Ari’s face in the crowd silenced the cheers. Even through my buzz, I wasn’t stupid enough to have wanted her to see that.

Thanks, I mouthed to Killian.

She winked at me and said something else, but I shoved the microphone in her face and jumped off the stage. The crowd was unyielding as I attempted to reach Ari.

“Fucking f*ck,” I grumbled under my breath.

I nearly knocked someone down while trying to get to her.

Her icy glare should have stopped me in my tracks, but I barreled right through the protective wall she had put between us. I grabbed her around the middle and pulled her against my chest. She smelled f*cking amazing.

Fuck. I just wanted to take her home and forget this day had ever happened.

“Let’s go home,” I said into her ear.

She yanked herself from my grasp and crossed her arms.

“Great show, man!” one person said, clapping me on the back as he walked by.

I nodded at him, but I kept my focus on Ari. She hadn’t said shit yet.

A series of interruptions kept us from speaking.

“That was amazing,” one groupie said.

“Oh my God, you guys should sing it like that all the time.”

“That’s the best I’ve ever heard it.”

I ground my teeth and tried to block it out. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

She continued to glare at me as if I were the only f*cking person in the room who had done something wrong. Why was she up on her f*cking high horse when she was the one who had pushed me away this morning? She had things to account for, too.

I roughly grabbed her by the arm and hauled her toward the entrance. She gasped and tried to pull away, but I held on to her tight. If she wasn’t going to speak up, then she’d have to deal with this.

As soon as we stepped out of The Ivy League, Ari wrenched her arm free from me and walked around to the side of the building. I pursued her.

“What the f*ck is your problem?” I demanded.

She turned around, crossed her arms, and stared at me. She just f*cking stared at me. I could see she was seething. It was all bubbling up under the surface.

“The cold shoulder? You’re not going to f*cking say anything?”

Ari turned her head to the side, looking out toward the parking lot.

“Okay, fine. You know what? Don’t say anything. I have enough to say for the both of us,” I spat at her. “I thought we were over all this shit. I’ve never been in a f*cking relationship, but I can pretty much guarantee that it’s not supposed to work this way. You’re acting like a f*cking crazy person, Princess. If I wanted to f*ck around, I’d be banging every girl in the League tonight.”

“That’s good to know,” she ground out.

“But I’m not. I was f*cking pissed tonight. I came here to get wasted. I wanted a distraction after you didn’t f*cking pick up your goddamn phone.”

She turned her head back toward me. “Will you always need a distraction when one day doesn’t go as planned?”

“I’m not a f*cking saint, Princess. You knew that when you signed up for this. I play in a f*cking rock band. Girls throw themselves at me left and right, but not a single one of them compares to you.” I ran my hand along her jawline and up into her messy blonde hair. “What’s going on with us?”

She stepped away from my touch and closed her eyes. I wanted to lash out at her all over again, but the ice was cracking. Pain was written on her face. Her eyes were scrunched together. She swallowed a couple of times as if she was trying to keep from…crying.