Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(40)

t mean to.” She sniffs and slides a teal spaghetti-strapped dress over her tiny frame.

“I know he didn’t mean to, Rae...and the stuff with Adrian—Monica doesn’t even know what she’s talking about. Please don’t

say anything.” I rub my damp palms along the edge of her comforter.

Can this get any worse?

Rae sits next to me with her hands between her knees. “I won’t say anything to Bo. Just...please don’t lead him on, OK? He’s in

love with you, and if you give him even a sliver of hope that gets destroyed, he’ll be crushed.” She’s not looking at me; she’s

talking to her closet.

Yes, this is much worse.

“I haven’t meant to lead him—”

“I know you haven’t. I’m not saying you have, but cut the bullshit banter with Ainsley, OK? It only fuels her fire, and gives Bo

a reason to think ...” She shakes her head and looks at her hands.

“I’m sorry, Rae.”

“I love you, November. You know that? For me, you’re like a sister and that won’t change. But you were the best thing that

happened to Bo, and I don’t care what anyone says about how fast, crazy, and reckless it was. It was you two. It was your story,

no one else’s.”

I pull her into a tight hug, fighting tears for something I can’t identify. I’m upset that Rae is hurting over me and Bo, my best

friend isn’t on my side, and a gorgeous fiddle player I barely know senses the screwed-up war raging inside me. I haven’t let

myself fully reassess my true feelings for Bo since I left Adrian’s hotel room that night, and right now is not the time to start.

I’ve been proud of how we’ve handled our working situation, but it seems like that isn’t working for more than one person

involved. Before I can give it any more thought, Monica comes in holding my ringing phone.

“It’s Adrian,” she says dismissively.

Caller ID, you traitorous bitch.

I grab my phone and answer, while I head down the stairs and outside.

“Hey you, what’s up?”

“Not much, babe, haven’t heard from you since Tuesday night.” His voice tenses my insides.

“Adrian, I’m so sorry. This week I had like eight hundred teleconferences, and we’ve got the concert tonight—”

“Who’s going?” I hear him swallow what I can only assume is beer, based on his cool tone.

I clear the shakes from my throat. “Um, me, Monica, Josh, Bo, Regan, and Rachel.”

Silence.

“Adrian? Is that a problem? I can ditch and come see you.”

Did I just say that?

“Nah, it’s cool, Blue. Just do you, remember? I know who you’re coming to tomorrow.” The cocky smile is evident over the phone

and makes me simultaneously roll my eyes and smile.

“I’ll talk to you later. I miss you.” I really do.

As soon as I hang up, I hear footsteps behind me on the porch.

“Ready? Who was that?” Bo asks as he snaps a leather cuff around his wrist.

“Just my parents. Oh my God, listen to this.” I get closer and lower my voice, telling him about them going to San Diego to hit

the studio again.

“That’s awesome, November! I can’t wait to hear their new stuff.” He really can’t.

I roll my eyes and chuckle. “We’ll see ...”

“Oh stop, they’re great and you know it.” He playfully taps my shoulder, and for the first time since I walked blindly away from

him, I feel it.

With closed eyes, I dip my ear to my shoulder and take a slow breath. In the span of a second, the front door opens and Bo shoves

his hand into his pocket as our friends gather on the porch.

“All right, guys,” Monica starts, “we can all fit into my car since Josh is meeting us there.”

Bo rubs the back of his neck, leaving his hand in place. “Actually, I’m gonna take my car, too. Ember, will you ride with me?”

Everyone turns to stare at me.

Oh for f*ck’s sake. Are we seventeen? Seriously? Breathe. Get your shit together, Harris.

“Sure, let’s go.” I head for Bo’s car, pushed forward by the collective breath everyone was holding.





Chapter Seventeen


When we exit the driveway, Bo turns the music down. Please not now.

“I wanted to get you alone for a few minutes.” He rubs his hand on the top of his thigh.

“Why?” Cursing the late summer sunset, I attempt to cover my red cheeks by looking out the window.

“You love Coldplay. I don’t want tonight to be ruined for you. We don’t have to sit next to each other.” He glances my way as I

mentally scan the group. Crap.

“Like that wouldn’t be obvious.” I chuckle. “Two couples book-ended by us.”

“Are Regan and Rae a couple?” Bo turns to me in complete seriousness.

“Take it easy, you know what I mean.” I wave my hand.

A few minutes later, I realize neither one of us has turned the music back up. Bo sees me eye the dials and reaches for the volume.

I block him with my hand, and a zap of static electricity causes both of us to chuckle uneasily. I clear my throat.