Page 34 of Expressionate
"N-no," she stutters, shocked by my reaction. “Notme.”
I don’t see any bruises, so I relax. I let my hand and arm remain around her back, though, needing to feel her close. "Do you need me to beat someone up for you?" I ask with a smirk. Now that I know she's okay, I feelbetter.
She looks as if she's contemplating it for a moment, which perks my interest. Could something really be going on? But she shakes her head in the next moment. "No," she replies. "I'm sorry. I'm just whining. It really has nothing to do with me. I’m just worried about Trish. I had to pick her up from the ER today. She said it was just a fall, but I'm not sosure."
We both stare at each other and her lips are slightly parted. One of her hands reaches toward it as if shocked that so many words came tumbling out. I never would have thought, in a million years, that I would want a chick to actually talk to me – to tell me about her life, but the very fact that Love is doing just that means I'm getting closer. I resist the urge to fistpump.
The door beside us opens and Blake walks back in, setting his now empty beer bottle on the bar top and nodding toward the stage. I sigh and tip my chin in his direction as he strides over and climbs up. Behind me, Cross whispers sweet, bullshit, promises to the busty redhead one last time and then he, too, is moving past me to thestage.
"I have to go,” I say. "But just know, if you really do need me to take care of someone – I don't care if they're upsetting you or your sister. I'll doit."
I stand, and her words stop me. "Why?"
Turning, I look down at her and I lean closer. She instinctively backs up, but has nowhere to go. "Because," I say in a guttural tone. The scent of her is intoxicating. I want to lick her, suck her. I want to see her perfectly plush lips wrapped around me. But what’s more, I want to see her hair on my chest as she sleeps and her tears on my skin when she cries. "I look out for what's mine," I finish before turning and walking away. I don't look back, but I hope like hell she's dropped that ice queen mask of hers. If she drops it for anyone, I want it to be forme.
* * *
We finishthe set as the bar patrons trickle out. The only people remaining, aside from the employees, are a group of old men in the back, the redhead, and Love. I already know Cross is bailing and heading out with the redhead. They solidified plans on our break. Though I tried to keep track of Love after every song, I can see that she's wavering on her stool. There are napkins stuffed in her purse – she probably doesn't notice that they're sticking out. I can barely make out the inky blotches of scribbles on them as I head her way after the stage break down and lastcalls.
"Hey," Blake says, catching me before I can reach her. I almost groan inexasperation.
"What?" I say a little sharper than Iintend.
He doesn't even blink. "I'm heading out," hesays.
Now, I'm confused. "You've got a hookup,too?"
He shakes his head. "No." He doesn'telaborate.
I frown, turning my back on Love for just a moment to face him. "What'sup?"
He doesn't respond, simply looks at me in that way that he always has. That pragmatic stare that tells me I can't expect an explanation until I need one. I sigh, waving my hand at him before shoving my fingers through my hair. “Fine,” I say. “Do what you need to. Call me if you need anything.” Blake looks at me for another second more before nodding and heading out the door. At least I'll have Love to myself on the ride back. That's a pretty damn sweetconsolation.
I shake my head and move to the bar. "Hey, you ready toleave?"
Blonde and brunette waves smack my arm as she turns her head too quickly and almost takes a head-dive out of her stool. I curse and barely manage to catch her before she hits the floor. Limp in my arms, Love's head moves back, and her eyes meet mine, open and a littlefoggy.
"You're drunk, baby," Isay.
Slowly, she nods her head. "Yeah," she slurs a little as the single syllable comes out. "I think Iam."
"Come on." I help her off the stool and when she sags and stumbles a bit, I think what the hell, and swing her up into my arms along with her purse. She makes a small sound of protest that I ignore as I nod to the bartender that I'll be back as I carry her outside to theJeep.
"Where are we going?" sheasks.
I look down at her. "Wherever you want to go,Lovely."
"Why do you call methat?"
I smile. Drunk Love is a very curious Love. As we reach the passenger side of the vehicle, I nod toward the handle. "I'll tell you if you can open that door for me," Isay.
She reaches out and fumbles for a moment, almost sliding from my grip as she tries to yank on it and her fingers slip. I grunt and readjust her, hefting her higher against my chest. Her unique smell – something like mint and shampoo that smells like a sea breeze teases mynose.
Love finally manages to get the door open and I set her inside. But before I can pull back, her hands are on my shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, pulling me closer. She tugs so hard I almost fall over her. Instead, my face comes just inches from hers. "You'll tell me now?" she asks, big gorgeous eyes blinking at me, making me itch to dive into theirdepths.
"I call you Lovely," I say, "because youare."
She holds me for several more moments, her eyes heavy-lidded. She's drunk right now. I can't kiss her. No matter how fucking good her tits feel smashed up against my chest. Or how sweet her breath smells – like strawberries and orange juice. No matter how fucking hard my goddamn cock is. I gently reach up and wrap my fingers around each of her wrists and ease her away. She goes without resistance, leaning back against the seat as I close thedoor.
