Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)

“Regan, don’t.” I lean forward, “I told you I didn’t want to know anything.”

“Just be quiet and listen. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing to tell if I even wanted to. Whenever I’ve been at their house, he’s always in the studio...alone. He doesn’t ever really go anywhere.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Honestly? Because you carried that drunk giant out of the bar, all the while not knowing where your “boyfriend” is.” Air quotes and all.

“Regan?

“Yeah?”

The words elbow each other for pole position in my throat. My eyes cast downward and Regan places his finger under my chin, forcing me to look back at him.

“Ember, what is it?”

I close my eyes as a single tear slides along the outline of my nose and falls onto my lip. I feel his thumb wipe it away as he pulls me into a hug.

“I know,” he whispers.





Chapter Twenty-Five



Bo



My head pounds in rhythm with a bang on a door.

Shit, where am I?

I peel my eyes open and blink around in disbelief. I’m in November’s bedroom. Looking to either side of me, I quickly put together that I slept here alone last night—judging by the undisturbed covers. I hear the apartment door creak open slowly and muffled greetings become louder.

“Where the hell were you all night?” She sounds exhausted.

“Pace drove down and picked me up. He just dropped me off to get my car.”

Turner.

Blood races through my veins at the sound of his tone with her. I don’t remember much about last night, but I don’t need to remember anything to know he’s been a dick.

“Is he here? Those are his shoes, aren’t they?” His volume rises, and with it, the hair on the back of my neck.

“I said he could stay here.” I can tell by her tone that she doesn’t care for his.

“Yeah,” the pompous ass interjects, “and I said he couldn’t.”

“Well, good thing this is my apartment then, huh? There’s no way I was going to let him drive home last night with how drunk he was. If anything happened...I couldn’t do that to Rae ...” I wonder if she’s starting to cry based on the tightness in her voice, but their continuing argument erases those thoughts.

“Wait, he’s in your fucking bedroom?” I start to sit up when I hear Adrian walk through the kitchen. She stops him.

“Look at me, Adrian, I’m in the same damn clothes I wore last night, and I haven’t slept. You wouldn’t return my calls, I was afraid Bo had alcohol poisoning, and I put him in my bed because he’s too big for my couch. What do you think happened here?” Ember’s yelling now.

“You don’t think it’s inappropriate for you to take your ex-boyfriend home and for me to find him in your bed the next morning?” His condescension is palpable. I’d love to punch him.

They’re right outside the bedroom door. My head is spinning wildly, and I don’t think I can stand, let alone engage in a confrontation with Turner. I try to calm the vortex of my brain, in case I need to intervene.

“I think it’s inappropriate for you to wander down the beach after midnight and not return my calls. That’s what I think is inappropriate.” I can almost see her hand on her hip by her tone, and it makes me smile.

“It’s him or me, Ember. When you figure it out, come find me.” Adrian’s voice gets softer as he walks away.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? This isn’t a competition, Adrian. I’m with you.”

Ouch.

“Figure it out, Em.” He slams the door shut. For a moment, I can’t tell if Ember’s left with him, until I hear her feet pad down the hallway. I close my eyes and pretend to still be asleep.

“Bo?” she whispers as she quietly opens the door.

I don’t respond. Ember walks to the side of the bed and stands still, but I can hear her breathing and smell her perfume. I hear her dresser drawer open and chance a glance with one eye in her direction. She lifts off her dress from last night and reaches for a t-shirt. She really has lost a bit of weight; her shoulder blades don’t hide in her skin the way they should when she puts her arms down.

I close my eyes when she starts to turn around. She sinks slowly onto the bed. Suddenly, her hand is on my bare chest, just over my heart. I beg it to slow down, but it won’t; her touch is its life. Without a word, she rests her hand there for what feels like a minute. I hate that I can’t see her face. With a heavy sigh, she moves her hand to my forehead, brushing my hair aside. Her soft fingertips glide down the side of my face and her thumb traces my bottom lip, pausing long enough for me to have to suppress the urge to kiss it. I can feel her pulse pounding against the pad of her thumb.

Ember stands, balancing herself on my arm and running her fingers along the outside of the leather cuff Rae bought me for my birthday last year. She lets her fingers trail the length of mine as she pulls her arm away and walks out of the room. I hear her leave her apartment, get in her car, and drive away. I reach for my phone.

It’s now or never.

“Rae? Yeah, it’s me. No...I’m fine. Listen, I need your help.”





Chapter Twenty-Six



Ember

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