Hope Page 6

  "Figures. I told her that you always run by yourself." She rummages in her cabinets, opening and closing drawers, before she emerges in her Barbie attire. I wonder if I should tell her that those leggings with the ruffles around the hem are really made for little girls. "Whit and I are headed to Players'. Wanna go?"

  Something in her voice catches my attention, and I turn to study her face. She looks away, suddenly interested in her sandals. That's when I know she's hiding something.

  "Sure. Give me a minute to get ready." I walk past her, my eyes never leaving her face. "What about Seth?"

  "What about him? He does his thing, and I do mine." She shrugs, feigning indifference, but the crooked smile gives her away. There's a vulnerability there that wasn't there before, a slight twinge of pain echoing in her words.

  "About damn time," I mutter under my breath as I walk past her, shaking my head in disbelief. I know she's hurting, but Seth Henley was never going to be able to give her what she wants. She wants normal, and he's even further from that than I am. I just never thought she'd see it for herself.

  I'm proud of her right now, ruffled pants and all.

  In my room, I pull on a pair of black leggings and a silver tank. Besides being kickass, my favorite black boots are well worn and comfortable. After pulling my hair into a ponytail, I apply smokey eye shadow and red lipstick. When I look at myself at the mirror, I smile. I'm the complete anti-Barbie.

  I've been anxious all week, my body humming with nervous energy. Even when I tried to write, I couldn't focus. The words bled together. The lines blurred. I couldn't write a single word.

  I can't even pretend that this has nothing to do with Declan.

  It has everything to do with him.

  Besides the fact that he's so damn hot, I like him. I like that he's comfortable in the silence, that he doesn't push me, doesn't ask for anything I'm not ready to give.

  He's not like any guy I've ever met. If I'd met him before, when I was still me, we might've been friends. Heck, I might have dated him if he'd asked.

  Hot. Sweaty. And sexy as hell. I like the way he... runs.

  The only problem is that I've already fucked him. I remember what he did to my body, and in moments of weakness, I crave him. I crave what he could do to me, the places I know he could take me. Right out of my own body, out of my nightmares.

  That... well, that's what makes him a really, really bad idea.

  Chapter 17

  Declan

  As a rule, I never, ever go to Players'. But there's something about 'no' that Seth doesn't understand. He was drunk before we even left the house.

  We push open the heavy steel doors and walk into the crush of bodies and vibrating music. Above the noise, I recognize the powerful whine of Eric's guitar as his fingers expertly move over the strings. Dark. Soulful. Genius.

  I couldn't have taken his guitar if I'd won the sex bet. In my hands, it would be nothing more than a piece of wood, but in his... it becomes an extension of himself, a window to his soul. Many learn to play the guitar, but few are born knowing how. Eric is one of the few.

  Seth stumbles through the crowd, pushing his way to the front, a couple of feet from the stage, where several of our brothers have a table. "Next round is on me!" Seth shouts, making his grand entrance. Someone hands him a shot, and he slams it before pounding his chest and loudly roaring like a gorilla.

  I'm in for a long night.

  At the same moment I find her, Quincy turns, her eyes meeting mine. A pink stain steals across her delicate cheekbones, making her even more beautiful. Her smile freezes as she watches me, waiting for my reaction. And right then, in that moment, I can almost pretend that she's mine, that she's just as happy to see me as I am her. I can almost forget the pain that's become my constant companion.

  But 'almost' doesn't mean shit. It's what happens when the nice guy turns his head.

  Quincy's wearing her Players' uniform, so I know she's working tonight. Instinctively, I turn toward the bar where Brody is slinging bottles and sliding drinks across the counter.

  That's just my luck. This is the reason I never come here. They both work here, and I'm assuming that's how they got so close without anyone knowing.

  I turn back to Quincy and lift my hand, signaling that I want a drink. Her eyes widen in surprise. It's the first time I've openly acknowledged her since she came back to school and walked straight into Brody's arms. When she quickly turns and walks toward the bar, I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding until it began to burn in my chest.

  I take several calming breaths, closing my eyes and getting lost in the music.

  Brothers' Keeper. Drew is the lead singer. Eric plays guitar. Ty plays the drums, and Devin is the bassist. Jenna made Eric promise he'd join the band once she saved his guitar. I'm not sure he would have done it without her. They're singing a song Eric wrote called Sixty Seconds, a song about the moment you know your life is forever changed.

  One minute. Sixty seconds. It doesn't seem like a long time, just a blip on the radar of this journey called life, yet so many things can change in the blink of an eye. Love. Loss. Death. One minute can feel like a lifetime.

  A beer materializes before me, a small hand offering it to me. I reach out, wrapping my fingers around the bottle as my eyes lift to meet hers. Whoosh! A sudden wave of emotion washes over me, warmth sweeping through my veins, leaving me confused and breathless.

  "Thanks." The word gets stuck in my throat. I can't look away.

  Why can't I look away?

  "You're welcome." Her words, the lilt of her voice, the sad smile on her face... it draws me in. And I hate it. I hate myself for loving her. Still.

  "How've you been?" I inhale deeply, hungry for air. It's the first real breath I've taken since I let her go six long months ago. And God, I've missed her. For the first time, I realize that accepting whatever she offers might be better than having nothing at all. My life sucks without her in it.

  "Good." The soft smile on her face makes the sick feeling in my stomach so worth it. "School is really kicking my butt right now. Working a lot. You know the drill. You?"

  "Busy." The concern in her eyes forces me to look away. I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing, but I want this. I need this. "I'm working things out."

  When my eyes meet Brody's, something passes between us, something I'm too tired to analyze. I see the concern in his eyes, the worried glance at Quincy, before he turns away, mixing a drink and smiling at the next person in line.

  He just gave me permission to talk to his girl, a girl I once wanted more than I wanted anything else. And I know how much that cost him. I know because I'm not sure I could've done the same if the situation were reversed.

  "I have to get back to work. I'll be back around in a few minutes." I hear Quincy speaking, but I don't register a word she says. My attention has suddenly been captured by the sexy blonde at the end of the bar. Not her exactly. The guy with his hands on her ass, sweeping them up her back as he moves to kiss her neck.

  "Yeah." I stand, gripping the bottle in my hand tightly. "Later." I slowly walk toward the bar, completely missing the hint of a smile on Quincy's lips. As if in a trance, I walk forward, drawn to Liza like a moth to a flame.

  There's something about her, about that hand kneading her hip that completely pisses me off. Over the music, I can hear Liza's quirky laugh and see the tension in her movements. She tries so hard to look like she's having the time of her life, but I know the truth. It's all an act.

  Only a few feet from them, I stand still, guzzling my beer in one long swallow. I seethe inside, watching as the guy leans over and licks her throat, trailing his tongue up the side of her neck to her ear.

  That's it.

  I've had enough.

  Stalking forward, I watch her as she opens her eyes and focuses on me. Recognition, then shock washes over her face before she pushes the guy away, dismissing him with the swipe of her hand.

  I wait for her.


  She takes her time as she walks to me, closing the distance between us. "Admit it," She giggles, her deep green eyes playful. "You're stalking me." Reaching up, she smoothes the collar of my shirt, her fingers grazing my neck.

  "From the look of things, I'm beginning to think I should."

  "What?" She pouts, her lower lip jutting out. "You didn't like Mark? Or Matt? Yeah, I think it was Matt. He was cute." As if on cue, Mark/Matt pushes his way through the crowd toward us. I step into his path, pushing my chest into his face. With my eyes, I dare him to say something.

  "Back off, buddy," I warn him. I'm not a violent man, but this dude is two seconds away from getting his assed kicked into next Sunday. When he backs down without a fight, it only proves my point. He's a prick.

  I turn to Liza and take her hand in mine. Without waiting for her reaction, I move, pulling her through the crowd behind me.

  "What do you think you're doing?" She tugs on my hand, but I grasp it firmly. She's not going anywhere.

  "Let's go." I tug harder, my blood boiling. "You're coming with me."

  "You can't tell me what to do."

  She almost runs into me when I abruptly stop and turn to face her. "Liza, I can. And I am." I take two slow, even breaths before I lose control. When we get back to our table, I sit, pulling her into my lap. I'm surprised that she doesn't put up a fight. Instead, she comes to me easily, her back tucked against my chest, as she leans into me. She smells so damn good.

  Once she's situated, I look around the table to find several stunned faces.

  Seth sits up straighter, a shit-eating grin lighting up his face. He doesn't have to say a word- his eyes say it all. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he reaches for a shot, handing me one, and we slam them together.

  He pointedly looks at my hand on Liza's waist before his eyes rise to meet mine.

  "I'll be damned."

  Chapter 18

  Eliza

  There are just some things that can't be explained. One minute, I was basking in the glow of a buzz and doing my usual. The next, I was sitting in Declan's lap. I may not know how I got here, but I do know how it makes me feel. How he makes me feel.

  His warmth radiates through my body, an energy building at the base of my spine and spreading to the tips of my fingers. So unlike anything I've ever felt before. When he speaks, his voice is intoxicating, vibrating through his chest and deep into my bones. Tomorrow, I may think this is the stupidest thing I've ever done, but tonight, it feels more real, more alive than anything I've ever known.

  I wonder how he can laugh and talk with his friends so easily while my body is on fire.

  When Corrine pulls out the chair next to Seth and sits down, I don't know who is more surprised. I've always kept this part of my life separate from that part of my life. Our expressions mirror each other- hers of shock and mine of shame.

  "Liza?" she asks in disbelief. I meet her gaze head-on. I may be embarrassed, but I'm still me, and I refuse to back down. I'll never make that mistake again. "Wha- How?"

  "Corrine, this is my friend, Declan." I don't want to drag out my bag of lies, but there's no nice way to tell her I met him one night, he screwed my brains out, and we've been going running together ever since. How do I explain that we haven't said a word to each other all week, but I'd sell my soul for an encore performance?

  Yeah, some things are better left unsaid. She'd never understand.

  Girls are supposed to want flowers and dinner, maybe a movie, but all I want right here, right now is for someone to give me even a glimmer of hope. I'm standing on the edge of the rest of my life. It's sink or swim, and I all I can do is hope it gets better than this.

  It has to.

  Corrine leans back in her seat, propping her feet up on the chair next to her. She pretends to be listening to the music, but I feel her relentless stare, the intensity of it peeling back my skin. She has questions. I don't have answers.

  I close my eyes to block out her probing glare, and I feel myself floating away. The voices around me fade, and all I think, all I hear and feel is Declan. His hand slowly traces circles on my hip, lulling me into a trance, while his breath teases the sensitive skin of my shoulder. I can't remember feeling this... safe. Ever.

  "You alright?" His voice, the deep, husky grovel in it, sends all sorts of crazy, mixed-up signals to my brain. All I can do is nod. His laughter vibrates across my shoulder, his lips so, so close to where I want them to be. "I think it's time to get you home."

  Home.

  That word twists me up inside. He doesn't want to be with me again. He just wants to take me home. Home... as in not where he is.

  I feel so stupid.

  I sit up suddenly, really becoming aware of my surroundings for the first time. When I try to stand, his hands grip my hips tightly, holding me in place. Reaching down, I place my hands over his and push them away. I stand quickly, causing the world to spin around me. He rises behind me, his chest brushing against my back.

  He keeps touching me, like his hands belong there, like he has a right to. I back up quickly, putting distance between us, and because I don't want to look like a total nut job, I turn to Corrine and say what I always do, "I'm calling it a night. See you in the morning."

  Her shoulders visibly relax as she settles back into her chair. By the way she's watching Seth, I know I won't see her tonight. And here I was- so proud of her.

  "I'll take you." Declan's husky voice makes me wish for things I have no business wishing for.

  Without acknowledging him, I turn and push my way to the door. Once outside, I walk quickly, turning the corner before I hear the door open behind me. Declan calls my name, but I walk faster, weaving my way through the alley and out onto the street.

  I have to get away from him. Away from the nice boy in the polo shirt who clearly has no idea how fucked up I am.

  At the corner, I wait for a car to pass by. Out of nowhere, Declan appears beside me, grabbing my arm and roughly pulling me to him. "What are you doing?"

  "What's it look like I'm doing? I'm walking home. Alone." I shove my finger into his chest, bitterness in my voice. "Thanks to you."

  He freezes, his body tight with tension. "Oh, so now you're mad? I'm sorry I rescued you from some dick who only wanted to use you. My bad."

  "Rescued? Ha!" I huff. "Did you ever think I might want to be used? That sometimes I just need the escape?" The words fly out my mouth before I can bite them back, and his fingers dig into my shoulders as reality finally sets in.

  His dark eyes grow sad, full of pity, and I hate it. I hate myself.

  My chest heaves with deep breaths, and he moves closer, backing me against the building, one arm on each side of my head, caging me in. "Do me a favor, Liza? The next time you need to escape, come to me. Just -" He rests his forehead against mine, his hand tangling in my hair. "Come to me." His lips whisper across mine, a promise I can't afford to make.

  He stares into my eyes, searching. Deep inside my soul, I feel something inside of him tugging on something inside of me. And I feel myself giving in, that same part of me reaching out to him, begging to be rescued.

  It draws me to him when my head says to run.

  Abruptly releasing me, he breaks the connection, turning to walk away. I can only watch, willing my feet to move, a prisoner inside my own body. Though I would never allow myself to chase after him, I can't let him go. "Declan!"

  He turns, standing in the light of the streetlamp, staring, watching, waiting. His shadow dances on the wall as he begins to walk, one foot in front of the other. Slowly, deliberately, he gets closer. And when he's finally standing in front of me, I whisper, "I need to escape."

  My lips tingle as his eyes trace them. Hungry. Starving. Without warning, his mouth crashes down on mine, our breaths mingling together, becoming one, as we cling to each other. I melt against him, accepting the undeniable truth.

  This kiss, this man... this is exactly what I needed.

  Stupid, stupid girl.
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br />   I thought I was running from him, but I was running to him.

  Chapter 19

  Declan

  Soft.

  Red.

  Sweet.

  If it's possible to fall in love with a pair of lips, I've fallen hard.

  I've thought about them, dreamed about them, tried like hell to resist them- ever since I had them. Seriously. In love.

  When our mouths collide, it's not gentle, not the kiss of timid lovers. No, it's desperate and hot and passionate, and it makes me forget everything I thought I knew about myself. It's the kind of kiss you can get lost in.

  Her lips part, her tongue briefly touching mine, teasing before retreating. I chase, delving further into the warmth of her mouth. I've been craving the taste of her all week, the memories of that night on replay in my head. I couldn't stop thinking about her, remembering, even at the track. And believe me, it's damn near impossible to run with a hard-on.

  A soft whimper fills the night; that simple sound echoes in my ears as my heart beats erratically in my chest. I wrap one hand in her hair, drawing her close as my other hand circles her waist, pulling her roughly against me. I groan against her, slowing the kiss. With a quick peck, I release her. After a few moments, she opens her eyes as she sways against me. There, in the depths of those wild, green eyes, I'm filled with a rush of anticipation so strong it takes my breath away. All the doubts I had before evaporate, replaced by the certainty that I need this as much as she does.

  I step back, putting some distance between us. Reluctant to break contact, my hand trails down her arm, capturing her hand in mine. When I weave my fingers through hers, I feel connected to something bigger than this moment. "Come on, Liza. Let's go."

  "Where are we going?" Her voice is low, almost a whisper. I hesitate, looking down into her upturned face, searching her eyes for any hint of what she's thinking.

  "To escape," I whisper back, afraid to ruin the moment before it's even begun.

  "Will you be naughty again?" She arches her brow, a playful smile teasing her lips.