Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (17 page)

Liam shook Carter’s hand.  The pleasantry was quick and friendly.  But when he grasped Jake’s hand, the dramatics commenced.  Muscles flexed.  Veins bulged.  Eyes locked.  What.  The.  Fuck.  This so wasn't happening.  Except it was.  With my luck, Henry would show up too.

“Do I know you?” Liam asked, confused.  His gaze wavered between the two musicians.  “I swear I know you from somewhere.”

“They play for Hautboy,” I explained, and watched his expression shift in doubt.  They still hadn’t stopped shaking hands.

“Hautboy?  No way!”

“Yeah way.”  Jake showed his teeth in a mockery of a smile.

“Holy fucking shit.”  Liam’s face lit up with excitement.  He began shaking Jake’s hand harder, all but forgetting about their pissing match.

“We have a table over there.”  Jake gestured behind him, where an empty table sat beside the rear exit.  Marshall and Matthew, their bodyguards, weren't far away.  “Why don't you join us?”

“Thank you for asking,” I declined.  “But Liam and I were just talking.”

“He can come too.”

My eyes narrowed, causing Jake to smirk.  I quickly turned to Liam.  “Do you want to sit with them?”

“Do you mind?”

Hell, yeah, I minded.  It was my night off.  I had no intention on spending it with Jake and Carter.  They were up to no good.  I had no fucking doubt.

Nevertheless, Liam looked too excited to disappoint.  I sighed internally, knowing I’d lost my place as the center of his attention.  “No, it’s cool.”

“Great!”  Now that he was done with his little Jake-a-thon, his hand returned to my waist.  “I’ll get your drink.  What’re you having?”

“Hard cider,” Jake replied.  “She likes hard cider.”

“A double shot of Jack and a chaser of beer,” I corrected.  I needed something harder to survive sharing a table with them.  Him, I corrected.  Jake fucking Whalen.

“A double shot.”  Liam looked at me in doubt.

“And a chaser of beer.”

Another smile curved his lips.  “You’ve come a long way from Strawberry Schnapps.”  He winked at me, the fucker.  I can’t believe he just went there.  We’d drank the bottle four years ago, the night I lost my virginity to him.

“Shut up.  I was seventeen.  It was all I could get.”  I’d stolen it from Peter’s stash hidden behind the garage in our parents’ house.  If I would’ve taken anything else, I would’ve had hell to pay.

“I’m not complaining.  It tasted good from what I recall.”  So he had told me that night when he had kissed me in the backseat of his car.  He said it tasted good on my lips.

“Did you two go to school together?” Jake inquired, unusually interested.  He glanced between Liam and me, mentally calculating.

“Paisley and I dated through senior year.”

“We're not interrupting your reunion, are we?”  Jake gave his best effort to look contrite.  I knew he was anything but.

Saving me from having to answer him, my phone vibrated in my hand.   The message was from Peter.  “
Is that Liam McDildo?  Who else are you talking to?  Is that Jake Whalen?  Holy shit, that’s Carter Strickland!  What’s he doing here?
”

I looked up.  Peter was on stage, checking the equipment with the band.  Except his face was now devoid of color and he was staring wide-eyed in our direction.  “I'll be right back.  I need to talk to Peter.”  I stepped around Jake and headed for the stage.  It felt a mile away as I negotiated the barroom.  This wasn’t at all how my night was supposed to go.  I considered sneaking out the back door.  Stupid fucking asshole Jake Whalen, ruining everything.

Perspiration beaded across my face like a veil of humiliation.  My ears glowed with heat.  This was my fucking bar.  He’d gone out of his way to come here.  When I was on his turf, I tried my best to stay out of his way.  He could at least show me the same damn curtesy.

Passing around another table, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise on end.  I turned, found Jake a step behind me.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Shaw,” he scoffed, “I’m not following you.  I’m going back to the table.”

“Why are you here in the first place?”

“Work.”

“Work,” I repeated doubtfully.  I doubt half of Hautboy was going to grace a place like Trum’s with their musical talents.

“Work.”

Turning on my heel, I stepped into the hall that led to the back of the bar, where you could find the game room, the bathrooms, the kitchen, and the entrance to the stage.  There was also a small, albeit dingy alcove with a working payphone.  Though, no one ever used it.  That’s what made it perfect.  It was a dark, private space where you could get five minutes of peace.

Leaning against the wall, I took a drawn out breath through my nose and released it slowly.  Something had to give.  I couldn’t keep fantasizing over a man who obviously didn’t share my infatuation.  I knew nothing about him, and what little I did know wasn’t remotely promising.

I needed to move on.  The fuck if I wasn’t trying.  But he was sabotaging my efforts every step of the way.  I couldn’t even escape him in my dreams.  Every morning I woke up sweating and tangled in the sheets, just short of an orgasm.  It was too the point I was loath to sleep.

The past week, dear God, was it torturous.  When he wasn’t in the studio, he was killing me with kindness.  Where you going, Shaw?  Why are you going there?  When are you going to be back?  Are you going alone?  Do you need help?  Maybe I should come with you.

It wasn’t cool.  It was fucking obnoxious as hell.  He reminded me of Carter, only Carter was genuine.  His brazenness was the underpinning of his true personality.  Jake’s curiosity was a ploy fabricated to annoy me into liking him.  Although, it was having the opposite effect.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.  Jake stuck his head into the alcove and squinted, likely searching for the men’s room, which was the next door over.  “Shaw?  Is that you?”

“No.”

“What're you doing in here?”

“Waiting for my brother.”  So that I didn’t look like an ass when Peter didn’t show up, I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted him.

“Are you hiding from me?”

“No.”  Yes.

His head cocked to the side.  He stepped into the alcove with me.  My back was against the wall.  I had no room to move.  “Your boyfriend brought your drinks.  He’s waiting for you at the table.”

He’s not my boyfriend, I almost said, but I refused to bestow him that clarification.  “I’ll be right out.”

Fuck.  Jake flattened his palm on the wall just above my shoulder, and leaned in.  “Are you doing this just to spite me?”

In my mind, the image from the newspaper surfaced, the one with him hitting on the blonde.  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, using his own words.  “I had no idea you were going to show up here tonight.”

“Are you going to fuck him?”

Did you fuck her? I refused to ask.  He was trying to make me slip.  The nerve of him.  He wanted to know if my world revolved around his, while I knew he was in another universe completely.  “That’s none of your business.”

His jaw ticked.  “He was your first, wasn’t he?”

That’s none of your business either, I didn’t say.  It would’ve revealed too much.  “He was the only one that mattered.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I lifted my shoulder, feigning objectivity.  “I loved him.  Anything after that was a meaningless fuck.”

“Fuck you.”

A smirk wormed its way across my face.  “What’s the matter?  Did I mar your spotless reputation?  Am I really the first girl that hasn’t waited to spread my legs at the crack of your whip?”  God, he was so high on his pedestal.  It felt good to knock him down a peg or two.

Jake’s nostrils flared.  The smile had barely faded from my face when he dropped his head and crushed his lips to mine.  His hand threaded into my hair, holding my mouth against his.  His force was unnecessary.  With my back against the wall, I had nowhere to go.  This was the second time he’d taken me by surprise, the fucker.

This time, however, I didn’t cede to his kiss.  Raising my hands, I shoved him away.  Or tried to.  He didn’t so much as budge.  When I lifted my knee, he quickly blocked me.  Then he shoved his knee between mine, parted my thighs, and lifted me over his hips.  His mouth moved to my neck, biting and licking his way up my throat.  “Tell me you don’t feel anything, Shaw.”

“What am I supposed to feel, Jake?  I don’t even
know
you.”  His parents died.  He and his grandmother raised his little sister—who was away at college, and wasn’t on speaking terms with him.  He liked Em’s cooking, but then most people did.  Oh, and he liked rough, kinky sex.  That was the extent of what I knew about Jake Whalen.  It was a scratch on the surface.

Despite my claim, I wanted to cave.  I wouldn’t, but I sure as hell wanted to.  “Put me the fuck down!”  I demanded.  His teeth scraped the edge of my jaw.  If he reached my lips, I was done for.  When his lips were against mine, I found it hard to think of anything other than the feel of him, the taste of him.  His hunger.  His control.  “Please, put me down.”

“Mother fucker.”  Peter and his meticulous timing, decided at that moment to grace me with his presence.  “I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass who or how rich you are.  If you don’t let my sister go right now, I’m gonna beat the ever-living piss out of you.”

Jake loosened his hold and stepped back.  My feet dropped to the ground.  I quickly smoothed my clothes and pushed my hair from my face.

“You alright, pipsqueak?” Peter asked.

“I’m fine, Peter.  Can you give me five minutes?”

“No, I fucking can’t.  I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re surrounded by all the cocks of boyfriends past!”

“Peter!”

“You gotta stop playing these games with her,” Peter told Jake, ignoring me.  They were chest to chest now.  “She deserves better than this.”

“I know.”  Jake rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look at me.  “It won’t happen again.  I’m sorry.”

I felt like someone punched me in the chest.  Despite knowing his stance aligned with mine, I had unwittingly hoped he’d change his mind.  My fucking bad.  I should’ve known better.  Everyone had warned me that he was unwavering when it came to his rules.

Jake squeezed past Peter and stepped from the alcove.  Unfortunately, his easy capitulation enraged Peter, who—indignant on my behalf—grasped his arm and spun him around.  Next thing I knew, Peter threw a punch, and Jake hit the ground like a sack of Idaho fucking spuds.

“That’s all you have to say?  Sorry?  You asshole!” Peter growled, looming over him.  “Stay the fuck away from her!”  He kicked him for good measure.

“Peter!” I shouted.  While I—admittedly—felt a sense of satisfaction to see Jake on his knees, I didn’t want Peter causing him serious damage.  “That’s enough!”

“What do you see in this guy?  He’s a fucking pussy!”

Lifting himself from the ground, Jake pushed the hair from his face, causing the curls to stand on end.  I took a long gander.  I wanted to remember him that way, when he was at his lowest.  Tomorrow when he was back in true form, I'd remember that he bled.  “Nothing.  Not anymore.”  He had the audacity to look away, as if I wounded him with my reproach.

Asshole.

Digging in my pocket, I pulled out my keys and handed them to Peter.  “Take my car.  You’ll need it for your equipment.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Home.”

“How’re you getting there?”

“I’ll walk.  It’s only a few blocks.  I need the air.”

“It’s dark out.”

“Marshall can take her.”  Jake wiped a smear of blood from his nose and looked to Marshall, who nodded in assent.

“Then Marshall can walk with me, because I’m walking.”

“Text me when you get home,” Peter called as I walked away.  For the first time in God knows how long, I didn’t flip him the bird over my shoulder.  That was saying a lot.

Back at the table, Liam stood as I approached.  I really wanted to walk right past and straight out the door, but he bought me a shot, and the hell if I wasn’t going to drink it.

“You bouncing already?” Liam asked observantly.

“Yeah.”  Lifting my shot glass, I tilted my head back and downed half the contents.  “Herpes are flaring up.”

Liam stared confoundedly—at a loss for words—and then glanced over my shoulder.  Understanding dawned across his features as he took in Jake’s appearance.  “Oh right.”

“Yeah.”

“I see Peter's still overprotective.”

“It was deserved this time.”  Unlike the time Pax had assaulted Liam.  Peter had stood there and watched.  The two still held resentment for one another.

Biting back a smile, Liam leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek.  “Is it instigating things if I asked for your number in front of him?” He whispered in my ear.

“You’re going to call me from Madrid?”

“It's only until July.”

“One condition,” I qualified.  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I handed it to him.

“What's that?”

“You send me any dick pics—I get to post them on the Internet.”  Liam and his jock friends were notorious for them in high school.