Play (Stage Dive, #2)(61)

“You’re the peacekeeper. But you were ready to rip into Ben the other night.”

“About you. You’re turning out to be kind of a mind f*ck for me, pumpkin.”

I frowned.

“Not saying you mean to be.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

We sat in silence. Eventually, he lifted the flowers out of my arms, stood, and headed down the stairs. The only noise the entire time was the soft thud of his shoes on the worn wooden steps. Carefully, he placed the flowers on Mrs. Lucia’s doorstep, before returning to sit beside me. A statement had been made by confiscating those flowers, but what exactly did it mean? That was the question. Mal Ericson was quite the mind f*ck himself. And he went on tour in a couple of days. It’d be foolish of me to ignore this oh-so-salient fact. I tugged at the buckles on my boots, all agitated. Too many emotions were stirred up inside of me.

He did that.

“When I was sitting up there, waiting for you, a couple of things occurred to me,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend for real now.”

I stopped breathing for a moment, thrown. “I think I needed to hear you say that.”

“You have been for a while. Didn’t mean for you to be, but you are. I just have to get used to it.”

Of course, when he put it like that I sort of wanted to physically hurt him. Instead, I sat and waited to see where he was going with this.

“Don’t get mad,” he said. “Just stating a fact.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Liar. See, now this is why we should have gone to counseling when I suggested it right at the start.”

“What?” I scrunched up my nose. “When did that happen?”

“Day after I moved in, when we were sexting.”

“We weren’t sexting, we were just texting. You said you wanted to get a dog too, if I recall correctly. So I really didn’t think you were serious about counseling.”

The slow curl of his lips made something hot and delicious unfurl deep in my stomach. “Pumpkin, I’m always serious when it comes to you. Even when I’m messing around, I’m still serious as shit. Whatever you need, whatever I have to do. It’s been that way since we met. Haven’t you noticed yet? We’re f*cking destined or something. I can’t help myself. It’s pathetic, really.”

“Huh.” I stuffed my hands beneath my thighs, giving his words a moment to sink in. “That’s what you figured out waiting upstairs?”

“Yep.” He shuffled closer, pressing his hip to mine. “Think about it. Things were shit and then I met you at the party and you amused me. I wanted more time with you and then I saw Ev’s side boob and Davie threw me out so I had to move in with you. I wanted to sleep with you and we accidentally broke your bed jumping around on it so you had to crash on the couch with me. I wanted to have sex with you and you got bored on the ride home and jumped my bones. See? Destiny.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s beautiful. But I’m not sure it completely makes sense.”

“It’s fate, Anne. Written in the stars. Leave it the f*ck alone.”

“You’re crazy.” I hung my head and sighed. What else could I do?

“That’s better. Can’t stand it when you’re sad either.” His arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me in against him. I grabbed hold of his fingers, just hanging on.

That was better. Everything would be okay. But there was still an issue I was curious about. “Why did you ask me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He shrugged, looked away. “I wanted to spend time with you. You make me happy.”

I scrunched up my forehead. “That’s all it was?”

“That’s pretty f*cking important. Guess with Davie pairing up I was feeling a bit lonely or something. I thought we could be friends.”

I just stared at him.

“Needed a chance to get to know you a little better, just you and me alone. Moving in seemed a good way to do that. And you needed the help. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Whatever shit you’re telling yourself, stop it,” he said.

“What? What are you talking about now?”

“Reece.” He rested his head atop of mine. “You’re worrying about him. Stop it.”

“Mal …” How could I explain this to him? The words were weighted in lead, impossible to get out. I hadn’t been thinking about Reece, but now that he mentioned it …

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I wiggled out from underneath him, needing to see his face. Since when could he read me and why couldn’t I do the same? He appeared calm and sure, beautiful as sin. His lips sat slightly apart, his eyes serene. Suddenly, the words weren’t so impossible to find after all.

“I hurt him.”

“Maybe. But he’s the one that left you hanging on. He hurt you too.”

“But I fix things,” I said. “It’s what I do.”

“You can’t fix this.” He toyed with my hair, wrapping the short strands around a finger.

“Why not?”

“You going to dump my ass? Send me packing?”