Very Twisted Things
Page 19

 Ilsa Madden-Mills

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Hurt and then anger flared. He’d brought back my music—but he didn’t want me.
He splayed out his hands. “Look, this is my fault. I just came over to get Monster. Not this.”
My chest got tight. “You should leave,” I said, pulling my robe together.
He inhaled a deep breath, his eyes seeming to plead with me. “I’m sorry, V. Promise you’ll play for me again. Hearing your music, watching how you let go—it reminds me of how I used to feel when I first discovered music. The emotion in you is so fucking visceral—”
“Stop, with your compliments. You don’t have to explain.”
Still he didn’t move, frustration flickering across his face as he ran a hand through his hair and then tugged on it as if he needed grounding. “V?” He sounded confused. “There’s something between us—I don’t know what—but it scares the hell out of me. My life … it’s crazy right now … and my ex got pregnant with another guy’s baby, and it messed with my head—”
“Just go. Please.” My voice cracked. Here I was, a silly girl who stupidly thought he was going to be the one who made me whole. Hadn’t I learned that no matter how many changes you make in your life—changing your address, dumping your boyfriend, or calling yourself by a new name, nothing ever changes.
Grief will always keep me a prisoner.
Still he stood there, his gaze darting around my face as if looking for an answer.
I gave him one. I pivoted and walked back into the house. I clicked the lights off and went to bed. He might be a rock star, but I was Violet St. Lyons and no one kissed me and said it was a mistake.
“Romeo was an idiot. He met Juliet, fell in love, and got hitched two days later.”
—Sebastian Tate
THE NEXT DAY, I stood at the dining room window, watching as V jogged past the front of my house. Walking away from her the night before had been hard, my body screaming for me to take what she’d been offering. Maybe I could have kept it casual, but my gut knew that once I let myself go with her, I wouldn’t be able to control getting in deep. Spider had been right. She was the first girl in five years who’d gotten my attention. Sure, I’d dated lots of girls, but none of them had been serious girlfriend quality, and that had been on purpose. V was everything I didn’t need right now. Relationships were all about the timing, and right now sucked.
She came to a stop just outside the gate to our house. I watched as she paced back and forth for a few moments, a little crease of concentration on her face as if she were debating. Finally, she came to a decision, swung her legs over our gate and then proceeded to march straight up our drive. I grinned but then quickly frowned. It wasn’t a good idea to have her here. My resolve was weak. I still remembered how she’d felt pressed against my chest, her tongue in my mouth, her hands clutching me. I groaned.
Spider stumbled groggily into the marble tiled entry, blue hair sticking straight up from his pale face. We’d had some words last night about Mila, but our spats never lasted long. They’d both been gone last night when I’d returned.
“Rough night?” I asked.
“Maybe.” He scratched his crotch through his dark blue boxers. Nice.
The doorbell went off and he flinched at the sound.
“Bloody hell, who’s here this early?” He stalked to the door to check the peephole. Seeing who it was, he tossed a smirk over his shoulder at me. “Now that’s a sight for red eyes. It’s your girl from next door.”
“Not my girl,” I said. “You handle it. I have some muffins to check on anyway.” I left him in the foyer and headed down the hallway to the kitchen.
He snorted, yelling at my retreating back, “You’re kidding me, right? There’s a hottie on our steps, and you don’t want to invite her in? Maybe she brought us an apple pie.”
“You hate apple pie,” I called back.
He muttered loud enough for me to hear. “Be warned, I never turn down girl pie.”
Whatever. I kept walking until I was in the kitchen. I pulled out the blueberry muffins, and Monster flew into the room, practically salivating.
I strained to hear what Spider had decided to do, and was rewarded when I heard him open the door. Muted conversation and then laughter reached my ears. A bolt of unwanted jealousy hit me. Of course they’d hit it off.
Spider sent me a smug-ass look as they entered the kitchen together. “Look who’s here,” he announced. I definitely detected glee in his tone.
She set down a purple dog collar on the granite countertop, a rhinestone nameplate dangling from the center. “I wouldn’t have come by so early, but I found this at the bottom of the pool when I cleaned it this morning. Thought you might need it since Monster likes to run off.”
“Thanks.” I did my best to not let my eyes rake over her, but they had a life of their own. I took in her tight running shirt, gray pants, and athletic shoes. Sweat still glistened on her face, and her ponytail was damp. I wanted to lick her neck and taste the salt on her body. I wanted to pull her hair down and run my hands through it. I wanted to peel her shirt off—stop!
She rocked on her heels a bit, looking uncomfortable as we made eye contact.
On the other hand, Spider seemed bushy-tailed, leaning against the stainless steel fridge, watching us both with a crazy glint in his eye.
I cocked an eye at him. “Don’t you think you need some pants?”
He sent me a wry grin. “No way am I budging from this kitchen. Does my lack of attire bother you?” he asked V with a formal flourish.