Edwards, Willa - Midnight Mirage (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

The pain in his chest was tender now, but would only get worse if they followed after her to be rejected again. He’d seen firsthand how painful it could be to hear the truth from the person you loved. His own father had been destroyed by his mother’s truths. Could he and Gabe bear to listen to all the reasons they couldn’t be together from her soft lips? Would it ruin everything between them to know the truth?

If she didn’t want to be with them, he and Gabe weren’t about to coerce her, even if it would kill them to let her go. Lincoln might have a controlling and demanding side in the bedroom, but he wasn’t the same outside of it. He needed her to want them, to come to them, to love them, of her own free will.

Lincoln flashed back to last night, reassessing Mallory’s every look and moan. She’d loved every minute with them. He’d stake his next record advance on it. What he didn’t understand was why she’d left, why she’d turn her back on so much pleasure, walking away from two men who loved her.

They’d waited for her. One long year of waiting, and maybe it hadn’t been enough. Maybe she never would have been ready to be with them. But either way, they’d lost her. Lincoln refused to become a broken shell of a man by searching for something that was never his to begin with, and he would never allow that to happen to himself or Gabe.

“She left us, Gabe, not the other way around. If she wanted to be with us, she would be. What’s the point in chasing after her?”

“You wanker,” Gabe screamed, slamming his hand into the felt-covered walls in frustration. Lincoln looked up at his friend’s harsh tone, meeting the fire in Gabe’s eyes. Gabe was usually so even-tempered that the anger staring back at him startled Lincoln. “I waited a year for her because of you. For you. Because you were my best mate.

“Do you have any idea how many times I was close to just taking her?” Gabe’s accusing glare followed him, pinning Lincoln to the bed. “When she touched my hand while we ordered drinks at the Alternative Beats award party, I could have kissed her. She looked up at me with those sparkling eyes and pouty lips and I knew she’d let me, but I didn’t, because you said she wasn’t ready. When we danced at the Stamp Out Hunger Fundraiser, I could have taken her home that night. She would have come. I know it. But I waited, because you said it wasn’t the right time.

“Don’t you understand, Lincoln, this whole time I’ve been waiting for you, not her. Mallory would have come with us any time, and yes it may have taken more work to keep her or convince her we loved her. But that’s not what we’ve been waiting for. You’re the one who wasn’t ready, mate.”

Gabe picked up his prize Strat from the floor, the strings vibrating slightly with his rough treatment. The soft tingle of notes was the only sound in an otherwise silent room. Holding the guitar to his chest, reminiscent of a child holding a security blanket, Gabe turned back to his friend. His chest rose in large angry breaths.

“I’ve put up with a lot from you over the years, Linc, and you’ve done the same with me. I’ve accepted your slow, methodical need to be perfect and right all the time, and you’ve gotten me out of more scrapes than I can think of because I acted before I thought.

“But this is different. I’m not sure I can forgive this. Not after a year of waiting. Not after last night.”

Gabe turned the corner, fleeing from the small intimate bedroom that still smelled of Mallory. Lincoln opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything Gabe spit four last hateful words towards him. “You don’t deserve her.”

His footsteps echoed through the bus from the other end as Gabe pounded to the door. The hinges squeaked as he yanked it open, quickly slamming it behind him. In the silence of the bus, Lincoln’s heart thudded in his ears. Breath was almost impossible to gasp, as if a thousand-pound weight sat on his chest. What was he supposed to do now?

* * * *

“You look like hell.”

Mallory picked up her head from the cool diner table, glaring at the speaker. “Nice to see you, too, Krista.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t happy to see you, Mal.” Krista slid into the booth opposite Mallory. Her sunset brunette hair was twirled on top of her head and secured into place with a heart-studded butterfly clip, her smile understanding. “Hard night?”

“You have no idea.” Even Mallory was having trouble processing how she’d ushered in the New Year filled by two men. Krista had always been a great friend to her, the understanding and supportive sounding board she needed, but she still had no idea how to describe everything she’d done last night. All the dirty, tangled bus floor sex and screaming orgasms Gabe and Lincoln had given her. The emotional highs, and ensuing panic, that had forced her to leave in the middle of the night, before either of her lovers had woken up. Mallory had definitely earned her rock star rep last night.

“How was your New Year?” Mallory took a sip of her coffee, hoping either the caffeine or the heat would defog her cluttered mind.

“Good,” Krista responded with a wicked smile. It was the kind of smile that smelled of trouble. The sweaty, hot, sexy variety. It was always fun to see that wicked streak in Krista come out. With her baby pinks and innocent eyes, you never saw her coming. “So good James is home recovering. He’ll probably sleep all day.”

Mallory smiled before swallowing another gulp, the bitter taste burning down her throat. She wondered if her men were tuckered out as well. Lord knows they’d exhausted her, but there had been two of them and only one of her. Maybe they’d managed to preserve their strength.

Krista’s eyes flared as the waiter arrived with her cup. She didn’t touch the coffee, pushing the mug slightly away, her gaze never leaving Mallory’s heated face. Krista pressed her hands to the table as if to hold herself back from launching at Mallory, desperate for information. “Is that what happened to you? Did you meet a guy?”

Mallory paused for a moment, unsure how much she wanted to say. How much could Krista accept of her New Year’s Eve activities? It was hard for Mallory to even remember how she’d ended up in such a position, but from the first touch, it had been so damn good, she’d never considered fighting it.

“Yeah, kinda,” Mallory responded, concluding evasive truth the best way to go. If she lied, Krista would know and drag the details out of her. She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit the truth to herself, let alone her best friend.

“He’s a musician, isn’t he?” Krista grabbed the pillar jar of sugar and poured a liberal amount into her coffee, stirring vigorously to dissolve the thick grains.

Mallory nodded. Even if her men had never been on a stage, they were musicians. They’d definitely played her like a sax.

“He has to be talented, or you wouldn’t give him the time of day. And gorgeous, I’m sure of that. Definitely sweet and loyal. Probably foreign, with dark eyes and light hair.”

Mallory listened as Krista listed all the qualities of her dream man, the same ones written on her holiday wish list, and let out a sigh. What did it matter if Lincoln and Gabe had all the qualities on her stupid list? There wasn’t any future between them. There couldn’t be.

“When are you going to see him again?”

Mallory picked her head up. She’d almost blocked out Krista’s ramblings, but her question jolted her back into reality faster than her steaming black coffee. Across the table Krista sipped from her mug, her hazel eyes alight with curious interest. Like most women in a long-term relationship, she relished hearing her single girlfriend’s adventures finding the love she already had.

“I don’t know. I don’t—”

Krista slammed her mug to the tabletop with a clatter, halting Mallory’s words. The coffee splashed over the sides, onto the vinyl, dripping onto her laminated menu, but Krista paid no attention to the mess. “You’re not going to see him again?”

Mallory dropped her eyes, sure her friend could read the sign in her gaze as much as the gesture. “I didn’t say that,” Mallory defended, though she’d thought it.

It had been the most gratifying night she’d ever had. Maybe they could have made a weekend of hot, steamy sex, but regardless of how great they were together, it could never last. Why not just cut it off now and save them all the trouble?

“Mal, aren’t you through with this yet?”

Through with what? Falling for unattainable men? Having affairs with rock-and-roll gods? Ringing in the New Year with multiple orgasms?

“I know it’s been hard for you since your mom died, but she wouldn’t want you to live your life alone. Never opening up to anyone.”

Mallory took a deep breath, Krista’s words hitting her like a punch to the stomach. She couldn’t breathe—her chest felt too tight. “My mother has nothing to do with this, Kris.”

Krista reached across the table, pushing aside her coffee to clasp Mallory’s hand with a reassuring grasp.

“It’s not that I don’t understand, Mal. I do. Your mother’s loss was devastating, but you can’t keep pulling away from anyone who gets close to you. You have to let someone in.”

Mallory pulled back her hand, wrenching it from Krista’s iron sympathy. “This wasn’t the time, believe me.”

“How do you know, Mal? Did he ask you to leave? Did he tell you he never wanted to see you again?”

Lincoln and Gabe had never said anything like that, but they hadn’t said anything about her staying past sunrise, either. They must have assumed she knew it was only for one night. That’s the only way it could be. They couldn’t share her indefinitely. That’s not how relationships worked. And she wouldn’t choose between them.

“You didn’t even give him a chance,” Krista responded, taking Mallory’s expression as confirmation.

“At least I don’t give too many chances,” Mallory sneered under her breath. Looking up, she met the pain and anger in Krista’s eyes and realized she hadn’t said it low enough.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Krista spit out through her tightly clenched jaw.

“That’s great advice, Kris. Are you planning on taking it yourself?” Mallory’s snide tone echoed through the almost-empty diner. It was five thirty in the morning on New Year’s Day. Everyone else was asleep, exactly where she should be so she wasn’t spouting hurtful words she couldn’t take back because of her own throbbing wounds. But she couldn’t stop herself either, her misery loving the possibility of company.

“Ever planning on telling James you want more, or how unhappy you’ve been?”

Krista turned in her seat, planting her feet on the ground and grabbing her bubblegum leather purse. “You’re right. Maybe I should go do that right now.”

Krista shifted on her bench, sliding down the remaining distance to the edge, her bright pink sneakers flashing beyond the table ledge. Mallory reached out, grabbing her arm and pinning it to the laminate countertop.

“I’m sorry,” Mallory whispered, her voice shaky with emotion. Her heart thudded in her chest, capable of cracking into a thousand pieces like a dropped champagne flute with just the right push. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just that you—”

“Mentioned your mom,” Krista finished, sympathy returning to her voice. She swung back into the bench, gripping Mallory’s arm within her own, somehow understanding she needed the continued supportive contact.

Mallory nodded. Her mind slipped back to that November over a year ago when she’d buried her mother. The smell of that fall day surrounded her in the January diner. Her scratchy, raw throat a diminished version of what she’d felt that night, from crying for far too long.

Hardly aware of it, Mallory gripped her upper arm through the leather of her jacket, covering the sentimental tattoo she’d gotten to remember her mother after the funeral. The following month she’d quit her job, setting out on a new career.

“Maybe you’re right, Mal. Maybe this guy isn’t the one. Maybe he’s not the guy to let into your heart.”

Mallory took a deep breath. Why did Krista’s words, the ones she’d thought herself, feel so devastating? Her stomach lurched at the idea of being with someone other than Lincoln and Gabe. A cold sweat trickled down her neck as she considered being with someone else, even if they could offer her more than amazing sex, more than a threesome that was guaranteed to end and crush her heart in the process.

“But you need to find someone you want to let in. Someone you can open up to, someone you’re willing to let love you. You deserve that much.”

“You’re starting to sound like Giselle.” Mallory chuckled, a smile playing upon her friend’s pink painted lips.

“Maybe Giselle’s right every once in a while.” Krista laughed with her.

Mallory might mock her uptight friend, she might cringe at some of the conservative notions Giselle spouted, but she was certainly right about a few things. Starting with those stupid lists.

Chapter Eight

Mallory pulled into the parking area, dialing up the volume on the radio. She danced in her seat, slamming her decade-old Golf into park as the engine groaned in return. She hadn’t heard the song on the stereo before, but it was good. She’d have to figure out who sang it. Maybe she could convince her editor to do a feature on them for the next issue.

Beneath the pound of the bass, Mallory heard a vibration rattling against her tape recorder and keys. Digging through her purse, she pulled out her cell, where it was singing out the newest Mirage single. She peered at the LCD screen on the front before flipping open the phone and pressing it to her ear.