Because of Luke Read online

  Taking Shannon's hand, I follow our little group further backstage. There's a tent set up with tables lining the back. They're covered in food, well what counts as food to Roscoe—chicken wings, ribs, pineapple, Doritos, egg rolls, and M&Ms—all his favorites. In the corner is a red cooler full of beer and a blue one full of water.

  "Party back at the old house," he whispers in my ear, as he passes by an hour later. "Hope you two can make it."

  I begin to shrug. "I don't know man. We should probably get going. Need to pick up Ray soon if we want to get him before morning."

  "And why would you want to do that? Enjoy this, bro. While you can."

  I take my brother's advice, mostly because every time I look at Shannon I think about how much we've missed out on. We never had dates like this—time spent getting to know each other, time with friends. For us, everything went so fast. We saw each other, were attracted to one and other, couldn't keep our hands off each other and the rest is history. Other than those few times before the tour and our encounter in Seattle, there were no dates. I've never seen her in this environment, and I like it.

  It isn't until three hours later that we end up back at the apartment. The after party proved to be too much for either of us. Between one chick after another trying to get my attention and Roscoe's obsession with drinking games, we finally decided to call it quits. And now she's sitting there on our bed, surrounded by pillows in nothing but that thin, pink tank top.

  "I've been thinking about this all night," I say as I descend on her, nuzzling my nose and mouth in her neck to make her giggle.

  "Me too," she moans back. "We could have stayed, you know."

  "No, baby. With you looking like this? Hell, no."

  She shivers and even though I know it's not the temperature of the room, I pull her close and drag the heavy comforter over our bodies. "I'm glad you liked the show," I mumble in her ear.

  "You were amazing." She tilts her head to look at me. "You had them all eating out of the palm of your hand." She shakes her head, then skates the back of her fingers over my jaw line. "You had me eating out of your hands."

  I fall into the kiss she offers, and my high begins to plummet. I kiss her harder, pulling her closer, getting lost in the way she tastes, the way her hands walk all over my chest and grip my shirt. And when her mouth finds my neck and her teeth prick into my skin, I let out a long slow moan, giving into the fantasy an entire night in the making.

  I hoist her up and pull her into my lap, so that we're forehead to forehead. Holding her face between my hands, our lips are still connected and every stroke of her tongue and pant of her breath, has me wild. I whip the tank top over her head and hold her at arm’s length, admiring the view. The bra she's wearing is pink lace and through the thin fabric, I can see the slightly darker shade of her nipples.

  Wisps of her hair fall over her shoulder as she leans forward to kiss my chest and I push them back. Then with one hand at the back of her neck, I guide her to me, smothering her lips with my own.

  Shannon reaches behind her. I hear a click and her bra falls away. And in the seconds that follow we're skin to skin. My hands glide up her back, locking her in place on top of me and our tongues probe and tangle together, her breaths coming just as fast as mine now.

  Fuck, I'm so hard it hurts. And it's like she's reading my mind, because she frees my erection and straddles me again. Somehow, during the make out session she's become completely naked, her underwear are somewhere in the tangled mess or our bed. And now we are blazing skin to scorching skin, and her slick heat is already rubbing against my dick.

  "Shit, baby." My fingers dig into the side of her hips as she eases down, stretching to fit me inside her.

  It feels so good I can't stop the growl that escapes me.

  Shannon pumps her hips up and down and back and forth, her gaze still fixed on me. "You looked so hot up there tonight?" Her voice is thick and husky.

  It's so fucking hot hearing her say shit like that.

  I thrust my hips upwards and she screams out my name.

  "Shit." I release her as she takes over, digging her nails into my chest as she stirs her hips harder and faster. "Damn, baby. That's good."

  "Were you thinking about me up on that stage?" she whispers.

  "Yeah, baby."

  "Were you thinking about doing me this?"

  And that's all I can take. She squeals, then laughs as I wrap my arms around her waist and swing her to the side. I rest her on her back and kiss her like I never have before. Like it'll be the last fucking time and I don't want to forget how she tastes. Our tongues fight against each other as we struggle to taste more, feel more.

  I was wrong. I thought being in this bed with her would take me down off the high of this crazy night, but it's only amplifying things. Right now, I'm so far out of my head I feel like I'm floating. And once her legs are wrapped tightly around my hips, I'm gone. Not just inside her body, but in her damn mind. And I swear I can anticipate everything she does, every ounce of need and desire.

  The first time I slept with Shannon it was amazing. I couldn't get it out of my head. The second time and every time since, it is like being lost in a dream. But this time, instead of being lost in my head, I'm in hers and I don't want to be anywhere else.

  Shannon's head rests on my bare chest and I gaze down at her shiny dark hair. The light from outside reflects off it as I twirl it around on my fingers. I'm still out of breath and sweaty. We both could use a shower, but there's no way in hell I'm getting out of this bed anytime in the next few hours. Where I am right now is perfect. I don't think I've ever been more satisfied.

  I link my fingers with hers, and she sighs as she tightens her grip around my waist, and tangles her legs with mine. She deposits soft kisses that tickle my ribs, then tilts her head until our lips meet again. Mine are sore, and as red and plump as hers are in the moonlight, I can tell they've had more action than they can take too. But it doesn't stop me from devouring them. From taking in every one of her breaths as she releases them.

  Damn it, she tastes good. Too good. This is all too good.

  Shannon pulls back, smiling up at me. "You were loud," she giggles.

  "So were you." I kiss her again, holding her head to mine and rolling to my side.

  When we finally come up for air, she pushes me away and sits up laughing. "What is with you?"

  I move in behind her, trailing my tongue up her spine and sweeping her hair to the side, to kiss her neck. "You," I say. "You're with me and I don't think I've ever been so damn happy."

  "Me neither," she whispers.

  Shannon crawls on top of me again and the view of her straddling me, those wide blue eyes staring down at me, her nipples peeking through wisps of long hair, has me completely undone.

  "Are you serious?" Shannon looks down. "Again?"

  She acts like I can help it. Has she fucking seen herself naked?

  Shit. This can't last.

  I don't know where the thought comes from, but it's there—the words at the tip of my tongue—like it's been festering in the back of my mind all this time. It can't last. Because it's too good. And even though there hasn't been a whole lot in my life, the good things don't last. They never do.

  "Hey." She leans down to kiss me, then hovers there staring into my eyes. "Where'd you go?"

  I shake my head slightly. "I'm here. Just...thinking."

  "About?"

  "Are you happy?"

  She frowns. "With you? Are you kidding me? Of course I am."

  "You married me," I say.

  "I did. Even though it was a shit proposal." She laughs. "But I'm glad I did."

  "We knew each other—what? A few months? But you barely knew me. You barely know me now."

  "I knew enough. And what I knew, I loved. I still do."

  "What if we don't work?"

  "What if we do?"

  I cover my face with my hands and release a loud breath. "I'm fucked up, Shannon. I've got mommy issues
, daddy issues. I don't know what I'm doing with my life. School isn't the same as it used to be and I get this bad feeling sometimes. Like I'm going to fuck you and this kid up too."

  She takes my hands from face and brings them to her lips. "I know all of that. I knew all of that and I married you anyway. You're not going to hurt me, because I won't let you. And you're not going to hurt Ray because you love him. I've seen the way you look at him, how happy he makes you. And you want to know something? I've got issues to. So if you ask me, we're perfect together."

  "Maybe you're right." I slide the pad of my thumb along her jaw.

  "I know I am." She places her hand over mine.

  I catch her left ring finger and lightly stroke the ring there. "I need to get you a real one of these. One from me."

  "It's okay. I don't mind wearing this one."

  "I mind it. I want you to have the real thing. Better memories, you know? Bet you always thought you'd get married in a church instead of a courthouse. And you imagined a poufy white dress and big ass diamond, huh?"

  "I kind of like that dress Stephanie Seymour wore in that Guns 'N Roses video," she says with a grin. "It's not really my style but, I don't know...it's cute, right?"

  "Oh, baby, you could totally pull that off. I can't promise we'd make it through the ceremony though, with you looking like that."

  She smirks. "I liked our ceremony. It was intimate and who cares about all the other stuff." She gives me a quick kiss. "All I ever imagined was the perfect guy. And even without the stupid dress or the ring, I got him."

  This time when she kisses me, I don't hold back my obvious desire. I grip the sides of her hips, hoist her up and ease her back down on top of me. I could explode, when I hear the little moan she lets out as I enter her again. I could fall the fuck apart and she's the only one who could put me back together again.

  I hear my wife before I see her the next morning and I'm up in a flash. Food poisoning my ass, I think as I peer through the half-opened bathroom door. She's cozied up next to the toilet, and my mind is on high alert.

  "You all right?" I call.

  She groans a response and I step into the bathroom, squatting down next to her.

  "What's the matter?"

  She shrugs.

  I trace slow circles on her back with my palm. "I'm going to take Ray and grab you something for your stomach. You going to be okay until I get back?"

  She nods. Her hair is draped over her face and I draw it back, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  "You know what this is, right?"

  She doesn't respond.

  "It's not chicken, baby."

  "I'm sorry," she whimpers.

  I get down on the floor next to her and pull her into my lap, cradling her in my arms. "Why the hell would you be sorry?"

  "We can't..." she sniffs, then covers her mouth.

  "We can't what? What's the matter?"

  "We can't afford another baby, Lucas. It's tight enough with the three of us. And after everything we talked about last night...I just...maybe you were right. Maybe this is the thing that will break us. Not having enough money is stressful, and with a little baby and another one on the way. How can we? I'll have to go on maternity leave. You're still in school...we can't."

  "We can. We don't have a choice. You're stuck with me and we'll figure it out. I promise."

  I don't dare tell her what I'm really thinking. That she's right. The way we're living now won't work. We need money. The cash Ross gave me is almost gone, she barely makes anything working at that pharmacy and between rent, groceries and day care, we're pretty much tapped out every month.

  There's my trust fund. But the very thought of it makes me sick. I can't spend my father's dirty money. I won't.

  There's only one way out of this. A month ago I would have called anyone crazy who told me what I'm thinking right now. But today, I couldn't be more ready to reunite with my brother and our goddamn band.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Greenwich Village, Manhattan

  Sheila

  I'd never admit it to a soul, but I'm fickle as hell. If you asked me a week ago if I was over him, I'd have said hell yeah. But watching him now—being this close—I realize that's so far from the truth. And it's not the least bit funny.

  In fact, it's downright tragic.

  We haven't really spoken much since we broke up. Or stopped sleeping together—whatever it was. After he left and rekindled things with my sister, I did my best to go about life like nothing had changed. Even though everything has.

  Luke bows to hug me, and I'm sure I hold on a little too long. Roscoe's dark expression is a dead giveaway. I quickly pull free.

  "Nice to have you back," I say. "How's Shannon?"

  Not like I couldn't just call her and ask. I probably should, but every time I think about it, it's late and I don't want to call and wake up the baby—or stop them from doing whatever they might be doing.

  "She's good. It's nice to be back," Luke responds.

  "So what brings you back? Anyway?" Dash nudges him in the shoulder.

  Luke sinks into the sofa, shrugs and puts his feet up.

  "The Moscow show, that's what." Roscoe's voice is louder, more animated than usual and it makes me smile. He's probably more thrilled than all of us put together.

  The band back together again. At last.

  "You rocked that show, bro." He tousles Luke's shaggy hair and plops down on the sofa next to him. "Right on time." He winks. "We've got a show this Friday. The first one to promote the new album. You ready for the big time?"

  Luke grins—that lopsided one that sends flutters to every part of my body.

  Shit. I can't keep having these kinds of reactions to my brother-in-law. Regardless of the fact that he's my ex. It just isn't right.

  "Where you going, Little S?"

  I bristle at Ryan's new nickname for me. I prefer Sparkles. Little S is insulting and completely unnecessary. He knew me first, and he's known my sister for less than twenty-four hours put together. What the hell?

  "To my room," I say. This girl is taking over every part of my life. Even when she isn't here.

  But I've forgiven her, I remind myself. For everything. She's my sister, she's happy and so am I.

  "Why don't I walk you?" Luke jumps off the sofa and follows me toward the door.

  There's snickering in the background before Roscoe pipes in, "No funny business, now. He's a married man."

  Oh, god.

  "Shut the fuck up, Ross," we both say at the same time.

  It's completely silent all the way down the hall. Roscoe's finally loosened his leash and I've been lucky enough to snag one of the best suites, at the end of the hall and I'm seriously looking forward to some alone time. As much as I miss Luke's company, this isn't the time. And definitely not the place.

  "How are you?" he asks as I shut the door behind me.

  I turn from him, searching the room for something to occupy me. "Fine," I say quickly. "I'm good."

  Luke chuckles. "You sure about that?"

  "Of course."

  "Because you're acting kind of weird."

  "No, I'm not." I reply making a haste trip toward the fridge.

  He comes up behind me as I open it and grabs my elbow. "Yes. You are."

  I sigh picking up a bottle of rum and a can of Coke. "Of course I am, Luke. What did you expect?"

  He frowns leaning up against the bar and crossing his arms. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

  "Are you serious? You're married to my sister. You're my nephew's father. This," I gesture between the two of us, "is going to be weird no matter how you slice it."

  His frown deepens. "But it wasn't awkward at the show last month."

  "I was drunk." Just like I will be in an hour or so.

  "But when you hugged me...and her...and we were all hanging. I thought...I don't know, that everything was cool."

  "Well, it's not," I snap. I regret my pissy reaction at the drop. "But it has to
be," I continue as I close the fridge. "And it will be. Don't worry about it."

  "I'm sorry." Luke is staring at the floor when I turn to look at him. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

  "No." I'm quick to reassure him. "This is right. You're supposed to be here. And we're all so happy you're back. Even me, I swear. It's just going to take some getting used to."

  "What can I do?" Those gray eyes are driving me to drink this damn rum straight.

  "Nothing," I smile. "Just keep being you. And I'll be me. We'll be fine." I hand him the rest of the rum, but he refuses, so I toss it back instead.

  "If I recall, you being you and me being me is what got us all into this mess in the first place."

  I laugh, licking my lips. "You're probably right." I shrug. "Okay, you be you—the Luke I met before any of this—and I'll be a little less me," I add with a wink.

  He grins. "I'd say you've got a deal, only I like you just the way you are. If things were different—"

  "They're not," I cut in before he can continue the same thought that's been running through my head all night. "So we're going to start again and do things differently this time. Hell, maybe I'll find myself a boyfriend, just to make sure I behave."

  He smiles.

  "Everything's going to be fine, Luke. We're all going to be just fine."

  God, I hope so. Because I get the distinct feeling this is a mess waiting to happen.

  Four Days Later

  Sheila

  It's Wednesday morning and I'm still in freak out mode. I've woken up from a vivid dream of my past. And my freaking past is just a few rooms away. And the oddest thing is that we've been here before. In this hotel. And if I didn't know any better, I'd swear this very same room. Damn it, the memories.

  I climb out of bed, throw on my sweats, grab a banana and head down to the hotel gym to work my frustration off.

  Maybe I'm onto something. Maybe I really do need to get myself a boyfriend. It would certainly help in a situation like this. Or would it? I'd constantly be comparing him to Luke. How he kisses me, looks at me, says my name, touches me. But at least someone would be doing the latter.