Deep (7 page)

We pulled up outside my apartment building. Funny, I’d never hated the sight of it before, but I didn’t want the trip to end. Time alone with Ben, talking, was special. I clasped my hands in my lap, studying the lines of his face. A moment later, he turned off the engine.

“Thank you for the lift home,” I said.

“Any time. I mean that.” He rested a hand on the steering wheel, shifting slightly to look my way.

Happy chemicals stirred inside of me. Lustful, crazy things telling me to jump him, to climb all over him and cover his gorgeous face in kisses. To rub my jaw against his beard and see if it felt soft or not. To let him see exactly how he affected me, how adored he could be.

“Kills me when you look at me like that,” he murmured.

I just smiled. My tongue was too tangled for any attempt at wit. Thing was, I couldn’t
not
look at him like that. It just wasn’t in me to be any other way, not with him.

He exhaled hard, staring out the windshield. “I go to that club a couple of times a week to pick up. Place like that? Easy as hell. Pretty much the only reason people go there is to get drunk and get laid.”

“I see.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, Ben. You’re not a virgin. Duly noted. Me neither, by the way.”

Dreamy dark eyes pinned me in place, owning me. He licked his lips. Every time he did that my hormones erupted into the song of joy, a full orchestra plus heavenly choir accompanying. The whole shebang. It was ridiculous.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he sighed. “Make me wish for all sorts of shit I shouldn’t.”

“Who says you shouldn’t?” I asked, leaning closer.

“Mal. Your sister.”

“This isn’t about them. It’s about you and me.”

“Sweetheart. Liz…” The deep, dirty way he said my name, holy shit. His voice rumbled through me, lighting fires and causing chaos everywhere it went. I’d never be the same.

“Yeah?” I leaned closer, and then closer still, heart thundering and lips at the ready. Never in my life had kissing someone seemed so important. I needed his mouth on mine. His breath and his body, all of him.

Nothing else mattered.

I turned, propping a knee beneath me to help with the height difference. Hesitant but hopeful smile in place, I put my hand on his shoulder, getting closer. Fuck waiting on him to make the first move. Time to go after what I wanted.

“Liz.”

“Yeah?”

That’s when it registered. Ben’s body language was all wrong. The man wasn’t moving into me, wanting me back. I was alone in this.

“You don’t…” Words caught in my dry throat, sticking. I withdrew my hand.

“I can’t.”

“What?”

He stared straight ahead. “You should go in.”

Whatever face I had on, it wasn’t happy. “You want me to go?”

“It’s for the best.”

“It’s for the best,” I parroted, staring perplexed at the dogged shadows on his face.

“I can’t do this, Liz. I can’t do it to the band.”

“And you answer to the band for who you date?”

“We’re not dating.”

I cleared my throat. “No, we’re not dating. But god, we spent hours talking and texting to each other.”

The look he gave me was tortured. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Right.” All of the emotion inside me felt huge, overwhelming. Still my mind worked, turning all of the evidence over, trying to figure out where I’d lost the track. How the fuck I came to be flailing in the woods. “I think you were a little bored, a little lonely maybe, so you played with me.”

With a grimace he turned away.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Nothing.

At least now I knew where I stood. As if that was any real consolation. I pushed open the passenger’s side door, climbing down.

“Liz—”

I slammed the truck door shut, cold metal stinging the palms of my hands. Done with him. I was so damn done with him. The bitter night air slapped me in the face, waking me right the hell up. How fucking embarrassing. I’d felt so much and been so sure. Went to show you how much I knew.

Nothing.

Not a single fucking thing.

Time to put my heart and hopes back on ice.

CHAPTER THREE

Ben: Hey, how you going?

Ben: You doing okay? Studies all good and everything?

Ben: C’mon, Liz. Talk to me. I’m still your friend.

Ben: So I guess you’ll be at the wedding?

*   *   *

“He’s not really going to wear one of those white satin Elvis jumpsuits, is he?”

My sister shrugged. “Whatever makes him happy.”

“Yeah, but this is your wedding.”

“
Our
wedding¸” she corrected, applying a final coat of lipstick then blotting it carefully on a tissue.

“God, Anne. You look amazing.”

She really did. The vintage lace dress was divine. With her bright-red hair artfully drawn back from her face, she looked so elegant. I had to blink a time or two, my eyes actually getting a little misty. Given how long the makeup artist had labored over my face, I didn’t dare mess up her hard work.

“Thank you.” She reached out¸ giving my hand a squeeze. “You’re looking pretty awesome yourself, birthday girl.”

My birthday had actually been yesterday. Anne had insisted on waiting until I was old enough to legally join in the wedding celebrations in Vegas. Rather an unexpected delight, since treating me like a full-fledged grown-up wasn’t really her thing.

Ev, Lena, Anne, and I had spent my birthday hanging out in this Bellagio villa’s personal hot tub, nibbling yummy things and sipping cocktails while being waited on hand and foot. Because of course the villa came with a personal butler. Oh, and the outdoor fireplace had been roaring because during December in the desert it actually does cool right down at night. Last but not least, we had cake pops, because nothing could possibly be better than cake on a stick covered in candy.

That shit owned my soul.

I smoothed down the skirt of my own vintage dress, a knee-length ink-blue Dior number we’d found during a Saturday market hunt a few weeks back. It was beautiful. Feminine without being froufrou. My hair too had been pulled back into a simple but classy style.

Wonder what Ben would think.

Not that it mattered. I felt good about how I looked and that was that. My world didn’t stop or spin based purely on his or any other male’s validation. Until my feelings for Ben simmered down some, however, I’d just keep doing my best to avoid him—or at least eye contact with him. Even a stubborn heart like mine had to give up eventually. School had been busy and work much the same. What with Anne occupied with wedding arrangements, Rhys had given me extra hours in the bookstore, so there’d been plenty to keep me occupied. Ben Nicholson had been little more than a stray thought. Mostly. It would be nice later tonight to get out and let my hair down a little. See what Vegas was all about.

Sam stood, giving me a nod. It was time. Any lingering thoughts about the man gave way to squeeful excitement. Muted conversation could be heard coming from the living room, the faint sounds of music.

“Okay, future Mrs. Ericson. Everyone’s arrived so—”

“Pumpkin!” an overly familiar voice wailed. “Pumpkin, where are you?”

A picture of perfect calm, Anne turned to face the doorway and hollered back, “In here.”

The doors crashed inward and Mal appeared, turned out in a truly amazing slick black suit with matching Converse on his feet. What a sight. His golden hair shone, falling over his shoulders. Left undone at the bride’s request. Already he felt more like a brother. But even I had to admit, the man had it going on and then some.

“You’re not meant to see me before the ceremony,” said Anne.

“I don’t like rules.”

“I noticed.”

He ambled up to Anne with a faint smile on his face. “You know, I look pretty fucking awesome. But, Pumpkin, you look even better.”

My sister smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

“Gonna marry me?”

“You better believe it.”

He buried his face in her neck. A moment later Anne squeaked and beat him on the back. “Do not give me a hickey before the wedding, Mal, or I will kill you.”

Maniacal laughter filled the room.

“I’m serious!”

“I love you. Let’s wed it on.” Like something out of a movie, he swooped her up into his arms and carried her out, pausing briefly at the door. “You don’t look too bad either, Lizzy. C’mon, let’s do this!”

I picked up both mine and Anne’s bouquets and followed with a smile. This was going to be awesome.

Out in the super fancy living room, the furniture had been set aside, leaving plenty of space for the ceremony. And the Santa Elvis performing it. The big bewigged guy wore a belt bearing so many sparkly stones it was a wonder his pants stayed up. That thing had to weigh a ton. Vases full of red roses covered every available surface, the heady scent filling the room. A roaring fire burned in the corner. It was perfect, beautiful, and there were so many happy, familiar faces all gathered around, waiting to share the moment. Anne finally had the family she deserved.

In the corner, a string quartet started playing, and Santa Elvis opened his mouth. His rendition of “Love Me Tender” was wonderful. Or so I was later told.

Ben stood to the side with Jimmy and David, all of them dressed in similar dark suits. Only Ben had actually ditched his jacket and tie. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, leaving the ink on his thick arms exposed. God, he was glorious. So … manly, for want of a better word. Everyone else faded into the background. He looked so damn fine. It hurt, and angry or not I’d have told him as much, had I been able to find my tongue.

He looked up and found me staring. There was no censure in his eyes. Just the same, embarrassment threatened to flood me, turning my face to red. But he stopped and stared at me too. If our breathing and hearts were beating in exactly the same rhythm, it wouldn’t have surprised me. It was crazy. I should have known better by now.

There was just me and him.

Things were said and I heard my sister’s laughter.

His gaze strayed down over my dress then back up again. Little lines appeared beside his eyes, his face tensing. As for me, my jaw ached from all the things I was holding in, all the words left unsaid. Or maybe it was just more of the same, the urge to convince him that there was something real between us that was worth the risk. Some jumble of sex and friendship and I don’t know what. The fabled connection.

In all likelihood, he still wouldn’t want to hear it. The man made my head and my heart hurt.

“No, you’re not doing it right.” The pronouncement split my focus, my gaze darting to the front of the room. Something was wrong in wedding town.

“
I’ll
do it,” Mal told Santa Elvis.

The King just shrugged. Guess he got paid either way.

“Of course you, Anne, take me, Mal,” he proceeded, my sister still held high in his arms. “You’re my Pumpkin, my whole damn world. You get my music and all my weird moods, and you think I’m funny when other people are just shaking their heads wondering what the fuck I’m on about. I think it’s cute when you have your little hissy fits, but if you need me to listen and take shit serious, I promise I will. Good times or bad, you’re with me and I’m with you. No matter what, we’ll always work stuff out together, okay?”

“Okay,” said my sister, raising a hand to wipe a tear from her face.

“You’re the only woman I want or need, and no way are you into any other guy, ’cause you got me and I’m awesome. We good?”

“We’re good.”

“Right,” said Mal. “We’re married.”

“They’re married!” shouted Santa Elvis, throwing in a hip swivel just for fun.

Music started up again and the room filled with the sounds of clapping and cheering. Mal’s and Anne’s mouths were melded together. I wanted that, what they had together, and without a doubt it would be worth waiting for. After spending seven years believing love had to be just so much bullshit, I couldn’t give up on it again now. That was the truth. One day I’d find someone else who made me feel like Ben did.

I just had to wait it out.

Santa Elvis started beating out “Viva Las Vegas” while those assembled went wild. Everyone apart from me and Ben. Shit. I’d pretty much missed the entire ceremony. Thank goodness, Mal’s dad appeared to be taping it. Worst sister ever. I went to start clapping, like everyone else, then remembered the posies of flowers still gripped tight in my hands. Whoops, better not.

So many happy smiling faces—except for one. Oh great, my mom was here. From the other side of the room, her mouth wrinkled, brows drawn in tight. Seemed my initial lack of attention on the bride and groom hadn’t escaped everyone’s notice. Her gaze darted between me and Ben, her frown deepening. Might be best if I avoided dear mama for the rest of the night. Possibly the next decade too, just to be safe. The last thing I needed was for Jan to decide to start sticking her nose back into my life now.

No, thank you.

“Little sister,” Mal cried, bearing down on me with arms wide open.

He’d obviously finally set Anne down, because she was busy being tag-team squeezed by David and Ev. My new brother-in-law basically tackle-hugged me, picking me up around the waist and squeezing me crazytown tight. Breathing … so pass
é
.

“This is going to be great. I always wanted a little sister,” he said. “Older sisters are okay, I mean, don’t get me wrong. But little sisters are way more fun, right?”

I just kind of wheezed.

“And you wait until you see what I got you for your birthday. Best. Present. Ever.”

“Dude, put her down before you fucking break her,” said Ben with some urgency.

“What?” Mal deposited me back on my feet. Thank god.

I gave my sore ribs a rub, taking nice deep breaths. “There was a touch too much love in that hug.”

“Oops. Sorry, little sis.”

“All good.” I grinned, still catching my breath. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah. Congrats, man,” said Ben. They shook hands vigorously, followed by some shoulder slapping.