Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(53)

“Are you serious?” I asked, deeply confused because I couldn’t afford to be elated. Any minute now he’d do his usual thing and run. Just like in his truck that night. Just like in Vegas. I didn’t really think I could handle it again. Not now. My life felt precarious enough as it was, so susceptible to sudden, extreme change.

“Very,” he said, clearly cranky. “I already warned him off you.”

“But you and I are just friends, remember?”

He blinked, outrage momentarily suspended by surprise.

“We already had this conversation and that’s what you said you wanted,” I said. “And now you’re looking like you want to pee on my shoes to mark your territory.” I shook my head. “What’s going on here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“Did he make a pass at you?”

“Not about that,” I groaned. “Ben, I’m getting my own room. You do your thing and have your space, and I’ll do the same. I think we’ll get along a lot better long-term that way. That’s what we decided, right? So that’s what’s happening. Decision made.”

“Because of Vaughan?” he asked, his back teeth grinding.

“Vaughan has nothing to do with this. Because of us having a baby. Because of you and me and this crappy cycle we’ve got going on where I get my hopes up and then you run away or hide behind the friends thing. It’s completely doing my head in. It’s not healthy.” I set my hands against his chest and pushed him back a step. “You know, you pretend to be this easy come, easy go, laid-back kind of guy. No ties or commitment, just living the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle to the limit and all that. And hey, that’s just awesome, Ben. Good for you. But if that’s who you want to be, then don’t go making a separate set of rules for me. Because that’s as hypocritical as f*ck.”

Whoops. Another dollar for the swear jar.

His jaw shifted angrily. Or his beard did. Whatever.

“Good night.” The elevator doors slid open and I slid out, walking so fast I was damn near running. Time to get my stuff packed. If there wasn’t a spare room, I’d share with Anne and Mal for the night, make other arrangements in the morning. Man, I was so tired. Could have sworn my limbs weighed more than a mountain. If I was glowing, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it at this time of night.

“I never wanted to be in a relationship,” he yelled from back down the shiny hotel hallway.

“Congratulations. You’re not.” I gave him the bird too, because the bird was not swearing.

“Lizzy! Fuck. Wait.”

I slid my key through the door lock and hustled my ass on in. Not locking him out, though it was tempting. But hell, one of us needed to be the adult. I charged on through the living room and into my room, grabbing a suitcase from out of the closet. It was already over half full. When you only ever stopped for two nights at a time, there never seemed much point in unpacking. A few items were hung up—a coat and a couple of dresses. The rest had gone to the laundry service. There was just my makeup and junk in the en suite, a couple of pairs of shoes strewn on the floor, and I was good to go. Vacating the premises, ahoy!

“You’re leaving,” he said, standing in the bedroom doorway.

“Yep.”

“Liz…”

“Hmm?” I turned, waiting for whatever nonsense he’d try to sell me on next. The big man just stood there, though, face set in harsh lines.

And he had nothing.

“Probably for the best,” I said. “I’m not sure there’s anything either of us could say right now that would help. Let’s take some time to calm down and talk about it tomorrow, okay?” Yeah. Toothbrush, hairbrushes, and all that crap got thrown into my toiletries bag, which was then shoved into the corner of the suitcase. Next went my Converse, Birks, and fancy sandals with a heel. Then everything out of the cabinet. “You know, I think if we have our own space we might actually be able to give the being friends thing a good shot.”

No comment.

Over went the top of the suitcase and I started zipping it up. Better call someone up to help me carry it, since I doubted Ben was in the mood to be helpful. If I’d been warned once about lifting heavy objects “in my condition,” I’d been warned a hundred times. I’d mosey on down to reception and—

Ben’s hand slipped around to cup my jaw, his lips pressing firmly against mine. My mouth had been partially open already; no big deal for him to slide his tongue in and rub it against mine. He kissed me determinedly, taking me over. Christ, I could feel that down in my toes. They curled up tight, along with my eager insides. The edges of his beard brushed against my face and his other hand grabbed my ass, pulling me in tight against him. Already the man was thickening, getting hard. It felt so superlatively, unbelievably good. All of it.

And wrong.

“W-what are you doing?”

His reply was the lash of his hot, wet tongue against the side of my neck. Every nerve-ending in the vicinity went up in flames, while I went up on my toes, leaning into him, getting closer. No. Bad me. This wasn’t what we were supposed to be doing at all.

“Oh god. Maybe we should talk now.”

The man’s hands, they were so clever. Beneath the skirt of my jersey and up and into the back of my panties before I had a clue where they were even heading. Strong fingers kneaded my butt cheeks while his teeth sank into the base of my neck. He groaned as my breath stuttered, my lungs contracting sharply.