Dancin’ through San Diego with you That’s where I want to go
Mmm I say dancin’ through San Diego with you That’s where I want to go”
My cheeks burn as I turn to watch Bo sing the chorus of my parents’ song without any help from me. I’ve been rendered speechless. His fingers skate across the keys, and his eyes are closed so tightly his lashes have disappeared. All levity has left me as I lean forward to stand and walk away from the piano. Bo stops playing when he feels me shift.
“Ember, stop.” He grabs my wrist and pulls my arm toward him. I meet his eyes and see them catch fire as they look me over. Goosebumps form on my skin under his watchfulness.
Neither one of us says anything for what feels like a Thousand. Damn. Lifetimes. I wriggle my wrist out of his grip and slide off the piano bench. Bo drives his fist across the keys and the raucous clamor of notes makes me jump.
“Damn it, Ember, what the hell?” He leaps to face me and we’re standing toe-to-toe, my chin lifted to meet his eyes.
“Me, what the hell? You, what the hell. You take me out of a concert to bring me to a studio, and then you play and sing along with me to my parents’ song?” I’m yelling and I don’t care.
“No, you, what the hell.” He points his finger in my face. “You bait Ainsley at lunch, don’t let go of my hand when we walk in here, and then you want to sing in here? We haven’t spoken more than a few words at a time to each other in the last few weeks, and you start singing in my studio like nothing’s wrong.” He lowers his hand to his hip and takes a massive breath.
“What do you mean like nothing’s wrong? What the fuck is wrong here?”
“Everything is fucking wrong here, November. I’m in love with you. I’m absolutely crazy about you, and you dance around my organization like walking away from us was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.” His face darkens under his true thoughts about my actions.
“The easiest thing I’ve ever done? I did nothing but cry and scream for a damn week after I left here. You didn’t even try to call me, Bo! You didn’t even try ...” My voice breaks into traitorous tears as I recall the heartbreak I felt when he didn’t come after me. He left me alone. Just like I asked.
“Don’t pull those tears on me now. You’ve got to be kidding me. I was on my damn knees in your ex-boyfriend’s hotel room begging you to listen to me, and you expect me to chase you after he had to drive me home? How self-righteous do you intend to be, exactly?”
His words punch holes in my heart, and, I admit, my ego. I brush past him and head for the stairs, my vision blurred with angry, defeated tears. I make it one step past Bo before he grabs my arm, spinning me to face him.
“What?” I demand, trying to regain control of my arm.
“You love me, November. I know you do. I see it on your face and feel it from you whenever we’re together. Why won’t you let yourself be happy with me? What the hell is the problem?” His nostrils flare.
“I ...”
“I can’t take this anymore,” is all he says before grabbing my face and crushing his lips into mine.
Surprise jumps from my throat as I tighten my hands around his wrists, trying to pull his hands away from my face. He only pulls harder, burying his lips deep into mine—opening my mouth is my only relief from his pressure. His tongue feverishly searches mine, desperation seeping from each taste bud.
Fresh tears signal surrender as I relax into his body and snake my hands through his hair. A flip book of every passionate moment we experienced together flickers through my brain as his hands drag down my sides. His teeth tug on my lower lip before he dives back in, making my mouth his through pleading moans. Tightening my hands through his hair, I press my hipbones into his pockets. My heart beats through my lips, and I’m forced to pull away to catch my breath.
The previously silent studio records our erratic breathing. We stare into each other, holding each other, willing each other to say something. Bo’s eyes are dark with an intensity I’ve never seen. He’s still holding my face. I grab his wrists one more time, and he lowers his hands with mine. Adrenaline gushes through me, and I’m forced with a decision I don’t take long to make. I step back and cock my head.
“I’mthe self-righteous one?” I clench my teeth in an attempt to calm my quivering chin.
“Excuse me?” Bo cocks his head back and considers my half question.
“No one has ever spoken to me that way. You’re an asshole.” I turn and place my foot on the first stair to head out of the studio.
“I won’t chase you forever, you know. I really can’t do this to myself for much longer.” He looks worn out and my chest tightens under the realization of what I’ve been putting him through, what we’ve been putting each other through.
“We can’t be friends.” I frown and head carefully up the stairs. When the studio door closes behind me, I hear him bang both fists on the piano. I reach for my cell and Monica picks up within the first ring.
“Look, we’ll talk about it later. Can you pick me up at DROP?”