I lean on my elbows and reach into her eyes with mine. “Destiny can fuck anyone she wants. That’s her business, not mine.”
She swallows and pulls her guitar into her lap, but her gaze burns back into mine as she plays. That voice reaches into me and grabs right onto my cock. Strokes. Makes me hard for her.
Carol comes by with Marcus’s burgers. I give the bar a quick once over to be sure everyone’s set, then grab my beer and follow her to their table. I pull an empty chair around from the next table and drop into it.
“So, how’s Blaire’s couch working out for you?” I ask Marcus.
“It folds out into an actual bed, dude,” he answers through a mouthful of burger, and I see there are two on his plate. No surprise there.
“You’ve always been a overachiever,” I say to Blaire. Both she and Marcus were class valedictorians, he two years after I graduated and she the year after that.
She lifts her hand to high five her husband. “Yep, really shot for the stars, didn’t we babe? Living large in a one bedroom dump in the worst section of Oakland with a foldout couch in our rat infested living room. Doesn’t get any better.”
Caiden chuckles as his palm meets hers. If there’s ever been a couple who have had a tough row to hoe, it’s those two. He went to jail for fucking her when she was seventeen, and it was a year before he could come within fifty yards of her without getting his ass hauled back to prison. I was overseas during all that, but Marcus filled me in on all the gory details when I got back. He felt like Caiden had taken advantage of Blaire and wasn’t happy they were together. But he had to eat his words when he met Addie. She was a member of his Oak Crest High water polo team and he basically lost his coaching gig because he couldn’t stay away from her.
Moral of the story, don’t fuck underage girls.
No worries there. I toss a glance over my shoulder at Lilah and find her watching me as she plays. Destiny has to be at least twenty-one or Mom couldn’t have hired her to waitress. Good thing about twins is, that means I know how old Lilah is too. Not that I was worried. No question in my mind that Lilah is all woman.
I listen to the song she’s singing and let her voice works its magic on me. And as the words sink in, I realize it’s the first time I haven’t at least recognized the song. I look more closely at her face and her eyes spark, and that’s when I realize.
She’s doing what I asked. She’s singing something for me that she wrote.
I turn and listen to her sing about breaking rules and taking what you want. That voice combined with those words makes me want to climb right out of my skin and into hers. Before I realize she’s done it, like some fucking snake charmer, she’s pulled me right out of my chair with nothing but that voice.
Chapter 8
Lilah
Every time Bran’s eyes rake over me, I catch fire and have to remind myself of all the reasons this can’t happen. But I’m sure there has to be a wet spot on the back of the little black skirt I stole out of Destiny’s closet when I was getting ready tonight.
Which proves I’m the worst person who’s ever lived.
In my mind, I keep telling myself “hands off” when it comes to Bran. I’ve set my resolve that nothing can happen, despite the way I ache for him. When I changed out of my warm-ups and baggy T-shirt into some of Destiny’s most revealing clothes before I came here, I justified it by telling myself it ups my tips. That’s not a lie. But the second I saw Bran standing behind the bar, his black Sam Hill T-shirt clinging to his cut torso, I knew in my heart who I’d dressed for. At the wolfish spark in his eye when he saw me, the image of him taking these clothes off with his teeth flashed through my mind and I’ve been wet ever since.
My heart pounds every time I look at him—every time I catch him staring back. And I can’t keep my eyes off him.
He’s at the table near the door with two couples when I clear my throat and start on a song that I just wrote this week. It’s still a little rough around the edges, but he asked to hear one of my original songs, and if there’s a song I’m going to sing for Bran, it’s going to the one he was the inspiration for.
He turns and looks at me, and at first it’s the same predatory gaze he seems to reserve just for me. But as I start on the chorus of his song, and he hears what I’m singing, his eyes widen.
“There's nothing left to lose. There's nothing else to find.
Take my invitation, leave none of me behind.
Rules restrain the meek, and chains are meant to bind.