Page 28 of Flames and Flowers
“That was before we were married. And it’s really none of your goddamn business.”
“Then why’d she make it my business?”
“We’ve got nothing to hide. How about you? Mysterious Matt… You keep all your shit a secret, why? So you can screw whoever you want, and screw whoever else on the side?”
“Hey, you’re the one who just shoved me into a closet.”
“It’s a pantry.”
“You really want, we can take this conversation out there. Might kinda kill the happy buzz of this party, though.”Yeah, bravo for the bravado.I wouldn’t have had this conversation with him out there if he tied me to the kitchen counter and him and Lex took turns beating it out of me.
He scowled, studying me, and my heart thudded in my chest. My balls ached. My nipples felt tight and sensitive. I could barely breathe, I was so tense. I probably would’ve given anything to rub up against him right now. I was so starved for his attention, I’d take anything I could get, apparently.
I didn’t even care if he wanted to hit me, really, as long as I had the full force of his attention.
“We’re not the first couple you’ve been involved with, am I right?” he said.
“There’s that word again,” I muttered into my drink. “Involved.”
“What happened to the other couples?” he pressed. “Obviously, you left them at some point. What makes us any different?”
Thank God I didn’t have to answer that, because the door cracked open and Danica slipped in. She shut the door, leaning her back against it. “Um, why are you guys in a pantry? There’s probably a better place to make out in this house…” She smiled a little and threw Ash a look, a question in her eyes.
“Believe me,” Ash growled, “I wouldn’t kiss him right now if you paid me in Grammy wins.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Why are you guys fighting?” she asked gently.
“We’re not fighting,” he lied.
“Your husband just lied to you. We’re definitely fighting.”
Ash stabbed me with his fine blue eyes, and a shiver ran through me. My drink made an obnoxious slurp as I reached the bottom. Shit. I needed more tequila.
“I need more tequila.” I made a move for the door, but Ash’s hand landed on my chest and shoved me back against the shelving again, bruising my spine.
“Jesus. Would you stop doing that?”
Actually, I would’ve been grateful if he’d just kept me there, pinned against the shelf with his hand on my chest and a jar of pickles in my back, as he stared me down and decided what to do with me.
But his hand dropped away. “You really care that much?” he demanded.
“About what?” I said lazily, like I didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything, including this conversation.
“About what everyone thinks of you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me.” True, which was the weird part. I really didn’t care if people at large liked me or approved of me or not. But I cared aboutthis.
“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard out of your mouth.”
“Nope. Truth. I care that they like my music. Relate?”
Ash grunted an acknowledgment, because fuck yeah, he could relate.
“I care that they like me as a bass player and songwriter. That, I care about. I care thatthatis the conversation that is being had about me. And you know what happens as soon as anyone finds out the dirty details about my sex life?Thatbecomes the conversation. The entire fucking conversation.”
Ash lifted his chin, maybe considering that. Maybe he was too drunk to sympathize, even if he knew exactly what I meant.
