Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(44)

hardening lap. Her delicate hands twist like thorny vines through my hair.

“Get off of me, Ainsley,” I grunt into her ear as she leans forward to brush her lips across my neck.

“You hide from me any chance you get. I’m not taking no for an answer anymore. You can’t hide how you feel about me. I see the

way you look at me, the way your eyes sketch me from head to toe. Forget about her, she walked away from you—twice, judging by her

absence after the concert.”

She’s good.

Gripping her tiny hips, I consider my options. Jack’s betrayed me once again, and all I can feel is her ass rubbing against me.

All I can smell is her want. My moment of indecision is a second too long, leaving an opening just big enough for her tiny body to

slither through as her lips sear into mine. The force of her kiss sends my back into the piano keys. I ignore their warning; I’m

tired of losing.





Chapter Nineteen



Ember



“What the hell happened, November?” Monica volleys her attention between the road and me as my tears streak her car window.

We’ve been sitting in the DROP parking lot for over half an hour in heavy silence.

“I just want to go.” I sniff and look at her through swollen eyes.

“Where are you going? It’s Thursday.” Monica reminds me that I’ve still got work in the morning.

“I’m calling in tomorrow. I just have a zillion phone conferences—I can do that from home.” I rub my eyes and tie my distressed

hair away from my neck.

“What. Happened?” Monica begs, locking her car doors to prevent my exit.

I breathe out the sordid tale in one breath, my throat cinching around the details of Bo’s anger—and his kiss. She shakes her

head and rests it against the back of her seat.

“First of all...your parents’ song?”

“Not now, Monica...I’ll explain that later.” I smirk at her attention to detail.

“I’m sorry, Ember. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I just...don’t know why you don’t want to be with him.”

Her words pinch my heart. Bo’s kiss felt exactly like it was supposed to, exactly mine. He sweeps me off my feet with every

sideways glance and simple smile. His passion for DROP is awe-inspiring. He wants me. He loves me. What the hell is my problem?

“I think I still love him,” I admit for the first time in weeks. “The worst decision I could have made to get over him was to

work on this project.” I thump the back of my head against the tear-stained window.

“Why do you want to get over him? If this is about work, have Carrie take you off the f*cking project. Zoe is more than capable of

taking over for you.”

“It’s Adrian, Monica ...”

“Oh, f*ck Adrian.” Monica rolls her eyes and presses her head against the steering wheel.

“I care about him, Monica—he’s good to me.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just go talk to Bo and clear up what happened tonight. You still have to work together. If there’s any hope for

you two, it starts with friendship. Deal with Adrian later. Will you take my advice, for once?” She gingerly slaps me upside the

head.

“He didn’t have to kiss me.” I roll my eyes as my cheeks fill with fire.

“I think he did.” Monica’s long lashes sweep her cheeks as she takes a careful breath.

“How the hell am I supposed to clear anything up from tonight? I told him we couldn’t be friends.”

Monica shrugs and sweeps her hands toward the door, motioning for me to go. I shake my head.

“I’ll go talk to him,” I resign as I leave her car.



*



A twenty-minute self pep talk later, I finally pull out of the parking lot and head for Bo’s house.

You just need to say you’re sorry for bailing and that you still want to be friends...

I almost use the closed gate as an excuse to abort the mission, but I vividly remember the code he gave me. Shaky fingers tap out

the four numbers, and the gate slowly swings open. I climb back in my car and head down the driveway, white-knuckled and dizzy.

Relief floods over me when I spot Rae’s car next to one I don’t recognize, maybe Regan’s, parked in the driveway. Their presence

will make this easier. As I step out of the car, Regan walks onto the front porch. I hear yelling from inside the house. My feet

catch up to my pulse, and I meet him on the porch.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I head for the door.

“No,” Regan huffs as he grips my upper arm and pulls me backward.

“What the hell, Regan?” I watch his face fall as he shakes his head.

Our heads turn to the voices getting closer to the front door.

“Get the hell out of my house, you tramp!” Rae’s voice is full of rage as the acid in my stomach churns wildly. The yelling

continues, but I can no longer focus on the words.

“Ainsley,” I whisper, scanning the driveway. The car I didn’t recognize, I realize several minutes too late, is hers—I’ve only

seen it once before. Regan releases my arm, turning me toward him. His face is full of pity.