Taking the Handoff, page 10
Seventeen
The bold neon flyer mocks me as I stir some cinnamon into my latte. Bernie bounces over to me—actually bounces with all the excitement of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh—to see what’s captured my attention.
“An open mic night? You should do it.”
I look away. “I don’t know.”
Truth is, my confidence has been shaken since the incident with Jason. And “incident” is all I’m willing to call it. I try not to think about it at all, but whenever I play my guitar or try to work on a song lately, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up like my body is bracing for attack. It usually goes away after I’ve played a couple of chords, but sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the feeling lingers long after I’ve put my guitar away. In those cases, only Luke’s comforting embrace has been able to drive the demons away.
Which has been another layer of torture in and of itself.
I thought being friends with Luke would be a step toward finally getting him to see me as a woman and not just Drew’s little sister, but all it’s done is put me in the damn friend zone. Except it’s this weird torturous friend zone with blurred lines. Because no matter how much I try to keep my hopes in check, I can’t help thinking that friends don’t usually snuggle on the couch every night like we do, or sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. That doesn’t feel only friendly at all. It feels like so much more, even though I know it’s not.
With a sigh, I focus back on my coffee, stirring the swirling liquid even though the cinnamon is already mixed in well enough.
“Why wouldn’t you take this amazing opportunity that fate has literally put right in front of your face?” Bernie asks, dramatically gesturing to the flyer.
“I just don’t think my music is ready yet.”
Bernie steps back, places her hand on her hip, and arches her brow. “Bullshit.”
I stare at her in shock. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I said bullshit. You’re scared.”
“I am not.”
“Prove it.” Her high-and-mighty brow arch morphs into a challenging expression.
Damn it. There’s only one way to prove I’m not scared, even though I’m actually terrified.
With another sigh, I pull out my cellphone and dial the number on the flyer. After a brief conversation with the organizer, I’m all signed up for my first open mic night in LA.
* * *
Forget butterflies in my stomach. I have a damn stampede of elephants. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve never been so nervous to perform, but now I feel like I might puke. My palms are clammy, and my legs won’t stop bouncing restlessly under the table.
It doesn’t help that Bernie keeps glancing up at the door behind me every time it opens like she’s expecting someone.
“Is JJ coming?” I ask her, not bothering to look behind me again. I kept looking back whenever she would look over my shoulder, but it started hurting my neck, and that’s the last thing I need tonight.
“No. He’s working tonight.” She sits up a little taller, and her lips quirk at the corners like she’s fighting a smile.
Confused, I frown. “Then who are you waiting for?”
“Hey, did I miss it?” I turn around instantly at the voice I could pick out in a crowd.
“Luke,” I say breathlessly, standing up from our table in the corner. “What are you doing here?”
I can’t believe he’s here.
He nods his head at Bernie still sitting at our table behind me. “Bernie told me about it.” He looks back at me with a piercing stare. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I swear my heart’s going to beat right out of my chest. He came for me.
“You haven’t gone on yet, have you?”
I shake my head. “No, but I should be soon. I’m on deck next.”
He reaches out and gently squeezes my bicep. “Then I’m gonna grab a drink from the bar. Be back in a sec.”
“Okay,” I say as he walks away. I plop down in my seat still staring at his retreating back.
“Do you like your surprise?”
I shake myself out of my shock fog and turn to Bernie. “How did you do it?”
“I texted him from your phone while you were getting ready for tonight. I had planned to just tell him in person, but he wasn’t home. I was glad it wasn’t a game night and he could actually make it.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it sincerely. I should probably be more nervous that he’s here, but somehow just knowing he came for me has eased all my worries and fears. I’m suddenly excited to get on stage and show him what I can do. Show him that I’m not the same awkward girl I was when we were kids.
Okay, maybe I’m still a little awkward.
Bernie gives me a warm smile and reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Anytime, hun.”
The emcee for the night announces the next performer. Only one more to go before it’s my turn. Luke joins us with his beer before I have to go onstage, and when the emcee calls my name, he squeezes my hand in solidarity.
Walking confidently onto the stage with my guitar, I step up to the mic stand and ground myself in this moment. My feet plant firmly on the floor, and I feel the energy of the space move through my body, bringing me to life like a live wire. It moves from the scuffed wooden stage to my feet, up through my legs, swirls in my belly before shooting up into my chest and down my arms. With one more breath, I feel the energy rise from my chest up through my throat and out of my mouth as I strum the first chord and let my voice carry across the room.
Eighteen
She’s breathtaking.
I can’t look away from the stage. She radiates happiness and light and all the things I think of when I think Emma. She’s incredible, and I’m completely in awe of her.
Her voice is smooth like warm honey but filled with the same burst of energy I get right before I reach the end zone. It makes me feel alive but calmed at the same time. She brings the words to life with all the emotion her body can carry. Her fingers slide over the smooth strings of her guitar with such precision that even if I didn’t live with her, I’d know she practices for hours every day.
Her voice and her guitar hold the audience captive until the final note fades away. Before she can even take a breath, I’m on my feet clapping hard and cheering for her as loud as I can.
Bernie laughs behind me, and a couple of people look at me like I’m a crazy stalker fan, but I couldn’t give two shits about them. Emma just fucking rocked it up there, and I’m damn proud of her.
She walks off the stage and down the two stairs on the side. Her face is lit up like the damn Fourth of July, her green eyes bright with excitement and her smile wide with joy. She’s radiant, and I want nothing more than to bask in her warmth.
It takes everything in me not to kiss her when she gets back to the table. Instead, I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug and drop a kiss to the top of her head. It’s all I can allow myself.
Bernie pops up beside us, and Emma breaks away from our hug to give one to her friend. My arms feel cold, and I try to push down the empty feeling in my chest at the loss of contact.
She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend. You don’t give lingering hugs to women who are just friends. Maybe the more times I say it, the more my body will get the message.
Bernie gushes about how great Emma did, and I chime in telling her how amazing she was. Pink blooms across the apple of her cheeks, and my dick pulses in my pants when she nibbles on her deep red lip.
“Thanks, you guys. It means a lot that you were both here.” Emma focuses on me. “Especially you, since I know you probably had a million other things to do tonight.”
“I already told you there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
She stares at me, her mouth slightly parted and her eyes looking at me with a tinge of wonder and hope. My heart starts to speed up the longer I stare at her, but I can’t make my eyes break away from hers.
She lets out a shaky exhale and blinks like she just woke up from a trance. She ducks her head as if embarrassed and then turns to Bernie and starts engaging her in conversation.
I attempt to pay attention to what they’re talking about, but the words go in one ear and right out the other. All I can do is stare at Emma’s mouth, her ruby-red lips calling to me. I shift in my chair and discreetly adjust myself before I make an excuse of needing to use the bathroom.
There’s only one other guy inside when I enter the men’s room, but he quickly zips his pants and leaves—of course, not before he gives me a look like he recognizes me but can’t quite place where from. I pace the length of the bathroom, internally chewing myself out and trying to get my shit together. My fingers pull through my hair in frustration.
Why does it have to be Emma that makes me feel like this? I mean, Jesus Christ, who in the universe did I piss off to make me feel all of these freaking feelings for my best fucking friend’s sister?
I need to get my head on straight and figure this out. I need to put up clear boundaries for us and help Emma find an apartment. Maybe if she’s not living with me, it’ll be easier to ignore what she’s brought to life inside me.
With my resolve set firmly in place, I exit the bathroom and head back to the table. When I approach, Emma turns around, and her face lights up again when she sees me. My heart stutters in my chest, and I know without a doubt that it’s too late. The pep talk I just gave myself in the bathroom was completely useless because even if I know nothing can ever happen, it doesn’t change the fact that I want it to.
I want Emma.
And now I’m going to have to fight like hell to make sure I don’t slip up and make her mine.
Nineteen
Shaking my head, I pull the blanket up to my chin, my eyes glued to the TV. “What a bunch of dumbasses. Everyone knows the killer strikes when you all split up.”
I don’t know what I was thinking watching a horror movie.
Actually, yes, I do. I was trying to challenge myself by doing something I’ve never done before—watch a horror movie from start to finish. My few friends in school used to love horror movies, but I could never stomach them. One time my freshman roommate in college watched When a Stranger Calls with a group of girlfriends, came home, told me the whole story line, and we both ended up having nightmares.
Yep, I had nightmares about a horror movie just from hearing the plot.
My imagination can be a scary place sometimes.
Now that I’m older I thought I could handle it.
I was wrong.
My heart starts racing as the music escalates, and I consider getting up to turn on the light so that I don’t completely obliterate my future sleep with nightmares. But then the blonde girl on the screen captures my attention, and I’m frozen in place. She turns a corner, looking behind her and breathing heavy after running from the unseen killer. The camera faces forward, and the killer grabs her at the same time that bright lights blind me and a scream rips from my throat.
“Jesus Christ, Em! Blow out my fucking ear drums.” Luke covers his ears and squints at me curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped tight around me and a bowl of untouched popcorn sitting on the coffee table. He glances at the screen at the same time I find the remote and hit pause.
“What are you watching?” When he sees what’s on the TV, shocked hazel eyes meet mine. “Are you seriously attempting to watch a horror movie? By yourself?”
I shrug and mumble, “Maybe.”
He shakes his head and covers his mouth. It only takes me a second to realize he’s trying to hide his laughter, and I chuck one of the throw pillows at him.
He catches it swiftly and offers me a teasing grin. “Come on, Em. You’ve never been able to watch horror movies. Why start now?”
“I made a promise to myself when I moved to LA that I was going to try new things, push myself out of my comfort zone. I thought I could handle it.” I whisper the last part quietly, hating to admit defeat.
Luke gives me a tender smile and then saunters over to the couch while taking off his jacket. He slings it across the arm of the couch and then sits down right beside me, his thigh touching mine.
Heat floods my cheeks at the connection. God, what I’d give to have him touch every part of my body. To caress my skin like he desired me the way I’ve always desired him.
I stare at the screen waiting for him to say or do something. I can feel him staring at me, but I’m afraid if I turn toward him while we’re this close, I might actually lean over and kiss him.
His body shifts and then his arm crosses my body, sliding casually across my belly. The touch warms my face further, and sirens go off in my head telling me to calm the hell down. This can’t mean what I want it to.
“W-what are you doing?” I stammer.
His warm breath glides across my cheek. “I’m grabbing the remote, unless you just want to sit here and watch a paused screen for the rest of the night.” His voice is husky in my ear and sends longing straight to my core.
I can’t speak or breathe. I can barely even think anything apart from Luke’s arm is touching my stomach.
Okay, so it’s not the intimate touch I’ve dreamed about, but it’s a whole hell of a lot more than the brush of his arm at breakfast or the touch of his leg pressing against mine when he sat down on the couch.
This is purposeful.
Especially when he slowly slides his arm back, the remote gripped firmly in his palm, while my nerve endings fire everywhere his arm grazes.
I bite my lip to contain the moan I’m barely holding back. Unbidden by me, my eyes stray from the TV screen and look toward him, instantly finding his hazel gaze. I have to be dreaming because I’d swear his eyes are filled with lust.
“You ready?”
I try to shake away the dirty thoughts spinning through my mind of all the ways I could ravish him on this couch. “What?”
“To watch the movie? I’ll watch it with you if you’re that set on trying to get through it.”
I swallow forcefully and nod, afraid if I speak, I might ask him to do something else with me. Even if I wasn’t imagining his heated gaze, I know he’d never act on it.
Luke presses play on the remote, and immediately another scream escapes the girl on TV as the killer attacks her. I clutch the blanket to my chest and try to focus on the movie, but my senses are hyper aware of everywhere Luke’s leg touches mine, his steady breathing, and the occasional glances he casts my way.
I finally get absorbed in what’s happening on the screen and sit frozen, blood rushing through my ears and my heart pounding so furiously I’m sure even Luke can feel it because it has to be shaking my body as I wait for the next horrifying moment. Suddenly, the killer strikes out of nowhere, and a scream escapes my throat. Instinctively, I curl toward Luke and bury my face in his chest, my heart racing and my body shaking uncontrollably.
Why, oh why, am I such a wimp?
Embarrassment floods me at the chuckle that escapes Luke’s chest. I glance up to see mirth skirt across his face before his hand comes up to brush aside a lock of hair from my cheek. Our eyes meet and everything stops. I can’t hear the movie over the whooshing in my ears from my pounding heart. But this time it’s not pounding in fear.
His lips are right there. I glance at them before looking back into his eyes and see his pupils dilate and his breathing stall before coming out heavier than before. I lick my lips and watch in fascination as his eyes drop to them, and that heated look I thought I was imagining before comes back tenfold.
We both lean forward until our lips are just a breath from each other. The ax murderer from the movie could jump out of the screen and I’d be none the wiser because all I can focus on are Luke’s perfect lips and how close they’re coming to mine.
“Luke,” I whisper, longing clear as day in my voice.
His eyes snap to mine, losing their lusty drowsiness and immediately filling with guilt. My heart drops into my stomach at the change that comes over him.
“We can’t, Emma. I can’t. Drew would never forgive me.” He clears his throat and jumps up from the couch. “I, uh, I forgot I need to watch some game tape to prep for tomorrow. So, I’m gonna go do that. You should, uh, probably just skip the horror movie. They’re overrated anyway.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, the movie the last thing on my mind while my heart cracks at his rejection.
He’s just about to exit the room when I call out to him, “I made too much dinner, so I put the leftovers in the fridge for you.”
That’s a lie. I made extra so he wouldn’t have to cook after a long day and grueling practice, but like hell I’ll admit that to him now.
He grips the back of his neck, an apology written across his face. “Okay. Thanks.”
He walks out of the room, and I find the remote to turn off the movie while I try to fight back tears.
But what did I honestly expect?
Did I really think Luke would actually make a move? It’s a small relief that at least I know I haven’t been imagining his attraction. For once, I’m not alone in my feelings.
I’m just alone in wanting them to turn into something more than just distant longing.
Twenty
I’m in trouble.
Big fucking trouble.
I’m falling for my best friend’s little sister.
In my defense, she’s too fucking loveable for her own good.
She’s sweet, smart, sassy, and downright sexy. Her laugh has made me hard more than once in the past week. The way she moves, talks, sings, dances around the kitchen while she’s waiting for the coffee to brew—all of it is driving me crazy with an insane need to claim her as mine. I want to ravage her and bury myself so deep inside her I won’t know where I end and she begins.
It’s a goddamn miracle I’ve lasted this long without kissing her gorgeous, luscious mouth. I almost lost control of myself the other night when I attempted to watch that horror movie with her. She was just so…perfect. After weeks of falling for her, noticing all the ways she silently takes care of me—cooking for me, leaving encouraging Post-it notes all over the house on game days, and even setting up my favorite movie in an attempt to cheer me up when I came home from an epic loss—I nearly caved. She was right there, her lips a breath from mine, her eyes screaming at me to claim her. And fuck did I want to claim her.
