Jaggerd McKinley was much more my speed. He works at his dad’s body shop in Amarillo. He’s a nine-to-five fella—a blue-collar guy with blue-collar dreams. He’s right smack in the middle of my league. Heck, he’s the epitome of my league.
I vow to myself then and there to let go of this lust-fueled need to have Gavin Garrison in any way other than as a friend, a bandmate. Maybe I should consider myself lucky to get to be a part of his life in any way. He’s white-hot, burning flames licking up everything in his path. And I’m just a little bluebird flying dangerously close to the fire.
When I finally pull myself together and exit the women’s restroom, I run smack into Gavin and his new friend. The redhead is wrapped around him like a vine, like the ivy that used to cling to Nana and Papa’s oak trees. Papa used to tear it off and burn it—said it choked the life out of the trees.
I’m having a similar fantasy.
“Dixie, wait,” Gavin says, extracting himself from the grasp of his company for tonight.
“I’m gonna catch a cab and head back to the hotel.” I swallow the nauseating pride clogging my esophagus. “Enjoy your evening.”
I’ve barely made it five steps when a tall, dark-haired man steps in front of me. “Your leftovers, Miss,” he says, thrusting two heavy takeout boxes into my hands.
“Um, thanks.” I take them and bolt out the door.
Gavin can get the check, if he hasn’t already. It’s the least he can do for twisting me up into this human pretzel of messy, ugly emotions.
As soon as I’m out the door I sling the boxes into the nearby Dumpster with all my might.
“What if I wasn’t finished?”
The deep timbre of his voice comes from directly behind me. Close enough to cause me to freeze for an entire second before turning around.
“Then you should’ve gotten them yourself.” I shoot a quick glare at him before sticking my arm out and hailing a cab.
“I wasn’t talking about the food. I think you know that.”
My fists clench at my sides. “You know what, Gav? If you weren’t finished with your little cherry-haired dessert item, then you’re free to take your happy ass right on back in there. Don’t let me stop you. You never have before.”
Gavin’s hands fly up in exasperation. He so rarely loses his composure it rattles me even more than his yelling.
“What do you want from me? Tell me what I’m supposed to do, because for the life of me, I can’t seem to stop pushing your buttons.” His forehead is creased and he’s looking at me like I’m a puzzle with missing pieces.
Oh, he pushes my buttons all right.
All my resolve to let this go evaporates instantly. I may never be able to have him, but I want him to know. I need him to know how I feel. And even more than that, I need to know whether or not he feels the same way I do, if he feels the pull, the connection between us. If I haunt his dreams the way he owns mine.
Mustering every once of courage I have, I take a step closer to him. When I open my mouth, my heart falls out.
“I want you to touch me. To take me, to own and possess me like you know you already do. I want you—all of you. The good, the bad, and that secret darkness inside that you never show anyone else. I want to be the one you spend your nights with, the one you wake up with, and the one you can’t stop thinking about.”
Everything about him suddenly seems harder. His eyes, his jaw, the set of his shoulders. “You’re playing with fire, little Bluebird.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But I can’t stop. I don’t want to.”
For a moment we are just two still beings, breathing and existing together in the same space on a busy street in the middle of the night.
A cab pulls up next to us and Gavin reaches around me to jerk the door open. “Get in,” is all he says.
But I see the panic and determination swirling in his eyes and I’m afraid of which will win out. Afraid that if I get in, he’ll slam the door and send me on my way.
“You go first,” I barely manage to whisper.
“Get in the damn cab, Dixie. Now.”