Lick (Stage Dive, #1)(66)

“Are you alright?” His fingers brushed over my face, tucked back my hair. Until I put a hand to his chest, forcing him back a step. Well, not forcing him. He chose to give me my space.

“I … um.” I licked my lips and tried again. “I need to go home.”

“Come on, I’ll get us a cab.”

“No. I’m sorry. I know I started this. But …” I shook my head.

David hung his.

“That was goodbye.”

“Like f*ck it was. Don’t you even try to tell me that.” His finger slid beneath my chin, making me look at him. “We are not finished, you hear me? Not even f*cking remotely. New plan. I’m not leaving Portland until we’ve talked this out. I promise you that.”

“Not tonight.”

“No. Not tonight. Tomorrow then?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I had no idea what I wanted to say. My fingernails dug into my sides through my dress. What I wanted these days was a mystery even to me. To stop hurting would be nice. To remove all memory of him from my head and heart. To get my breathing back under control.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated.

“I don’t know.” Now I felt tired, facing him. I could have slept for a year. My shoulders slumped and my brain stalled.

He just stared at me, eyes intense. “Okay.”

Where that left us, I had no idea. But I nodded as if something had been decided.

“Good,” he said, taking a deep breath.

My muscles still trembled. Semen slid down the inside of my leg. Shit. We’d had the talk, but things had been different back then.

“David, you practiced safe sex, right, the last month?”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Good.”

He took a step toward me. “As far as I’m concerned we’re still married. So no, Evelyn, I haven’t been f*cking around on you.”

I had nothing. My knees wavered. Probably due to the recent action they’d seen. Relief over him not taking to the groupies with a vengeance after our split couldn’t be part of it, surely. I didn’t even want to think about Martha, that tentacle-wielding sea monster from the deep.

Sex was so messy. Love was far and away worse.

One of us had to go. He made no move so I left, hightailing it back toward the club to find Amanda and Jo. I needed new panties and a heart transplant. I needed to go home. He followed me, opening the door. The heavy bass of the music boomed out into the night.

I rushed into the ladies’ room and locked myself into a stall to clean up. When I came out to wash my hands, looking in the mirror was hard. The harsh fluorescent lighting did me no favors. My long blonde hair hung around my face a knotted mess care of David’s hands. My eyes were wide and wounded. I looked terrified, but of what I didn’t want to say. Also, there was the mother of all hickeys forming on my neck. Hell.

A couple of girls came in, giggling and casting longing looks back over their shoulders. Before the door swung shut, I caught a glance of David leaning against the wall opposite, waiting, staring at his boots. The girls’ excited chatter was jarringly loud. But they made no mention of his name. David’s disguise was holding up. Arms wrapped around myself, I went out to meet him.

“Ready to go?” he asked, pushing off from the wall.

“Yeah.”

We made our way back through the club, dodging dancers and drunkards, searching for Amanda and Jo. They were on the edge of the dance floor, talking. Amanda had her cranky face on.

She took me in and a brow arched. “Are you f*cking kidding me?”

“Thanks for asking me out, guys. But I’m going to head home,” I said, ignoring the pointed look.

“With him?” She jerked her chin at David, who lurked at my shoulder.

Jo stepped forward, wrapping me up in her arms. “Ignore her. You do what’s right for you.”

“Thanks.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and followed suit, pulling me in for a hug. “He hurt you so bad.”

“I know.” My eyes welled with tears. Highly unhelpful. “Thanks for asking me out.”

I’d bet all the money I had Amanda was roasting David over my shoulder with her eyes. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

We left the club as one of his songs came over the speakers. There were numerous cries of “Divers!” Jimmy’s voice purred out the lyrics, “Damn I hate these last days of love, cherry lips and long goodbyes …”

David ducked his head and we rushed out. Outside in the open air, the song was no more than the far-away thumping of bass and drums. I kept sneaking sidelong glances, checking he was really there and not some figment of my imagination. So many times I’d dreamed he’d come to me. And every time I’d woken up alone, my face wet with tears. Now he was here and I couldn’t risk it. If he broke me again, I wasn’t convinced I’d manage to get back up a second time. My heart might not make it. So I did my best to keep my mouth and my mind shut.

It was still relatively early and there weren’t many people milling about outside. I held out my hand to the passing traffic and a cab cruised to a stop soon after. David held the door open for me. I climbed in without a word.

“I’m seeing you home.” He slid in after me and I scurried across the seat in surprise.