Finding Orion (18 page)

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Authors: Erin Lark

BOOK: Finding Orion
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Jace
lifted his
glass of Merlot and took a sip before setting it back down. "I didn't know
you drank."

"I
usually don't."

"You
nervous about something?"
He loosened the tie around his neck,
likely having come to the restaurant right after work.

I sighed and
stared down at my glass. The red liquid didn't offer any answers, so I looked
back at
Jace
. "It's
Karie
.
I'm sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't bring this up, but it's kind of on my
mind."

Jace
took another
sip of wine before removing his suit jacket. "You mean the one that kept
hovering around us the other night?"

I played with
the corner of my menu. "Yup, that's the one. She kind of has a thing for
Derek."

"Oh, he
told me."

"He did?"
I looked at him from under my lashes. "Well, I don't know what's gotten
into her, but she kept waiting for him to call even though she's already in a
committed relationship."

"Why?
The phone call I mean."

"I'm not
sure. Wait, what exactly did Derek tell you?"

Jace
shrugged. "She
made a move on him. Didn't work I don't think. He seems more disgusted about it
than anything else."

"Oh,
God, I'm sorry. The way she put it, it sounded as if he'd kissed her."

"Kissed
her?"
Jace
smirked. "I wasn't kidding the
other night when I said we have a rule in the band not to get with our fans."

"I
remembered you saying that, but then
Karie
was going
nuts at work today, going on and on about Derek. Thank God it isn't serious. I
would hate to see Alex's face when he gets home."

"Sounds
like a crush to me."

"Or
jealousy."

"Jealous?
Of you?"

I held my
wine glass by its stem, but I didn't drink. "Well yeah. Apparently, she's
known about you guys forever. Then I get to have a thing with the lead singer?
That much I get. But this stalking thing..." I set my glass back down.

"
Bree
."
Jace
reached
over the table for one of my hands. "It's just a crush. They're harmless."

"I
guess." I took a deep breath as he drew soft arcs across my palm with his
thumb. "It's just hard dealing with it at work, especially when I have a
thing with the leader of the band."

"Leader?"
He shook his
head. "No one leads the band. Kyle and I started it, sure, but we all have
equal parts in it. It's a partnership, a family even. Not a competition."

"Sorry.
I didn't mean it like that."

"I know
,
I just don't want you to think I'm one of
those
guys
.
" He picked up his menu and skimmed over the few entrees that
were listed on the first page. "You want an appetizer or anything?"

"If we
get one, I won't be able to finish my meal."

"And
that's the beauty of leftovers."

We ordered
our meals when the waitress came over to check on us before continuing our
conversation. The topics spanned from all ends of the spectrum. All the while,
skirting around any mention of our exes, past relationships, or any
expectations we had for the relationship we were just starting to share with
one another.

He told me now
that
he' d
had time to reflect on the other night, he
really did want the same thing as the rest of the band. Their recording was
actually supposed to take place on Sunday, so when he downed multiple glasses
of wine, I didn't stop him.
He's nervous.

I wondered
then if it was still possible for him to have been a Dom at some point in his
life. I knew from what I'd read that Dom who craved control in the bedroom
usually didn't have it in their working lives.

And being an
underling at some internet provider as well as not having any say as to how
well his music went over with the crowd was a loss of control I'm sure he
didn't need.

"So if
you and Kyle started the band years ago, did you study music in college?"
I asked after taking a sip of my wine.

He drained
his glass.
"Unfortunately, no.
At the time I had
no idea what I was doing. Music felt more like something fun to do than a
career. Not only that, but I'm sure my parents wouldn't have agreed. No, I got
stuck with accounting courses, most of which I haven't used in years except
during tax season." He smiled as he poured the last drops of wine into his
glass and held it up to me. "More?" When I shook my head, he
continued. "What about you? You can't tell me you went to school for
stocking shelves 101."

I laughed. "No,
but there's probably a course for that, and if not, there should be. It's
amazing how some of these school kids can't face a shelf correctly."

"Facing
shelves?
You got me there."

"Turning
product on a shelf so the front of it faces the customers.
It's mostly
for appearances, but also so folks can find what they're looking for at a
glance."

"Okay,
so if you didn't go to school for facing shelves, what did you study?"

"I did
close to three years of psyche but I still can’t read people—not even to make
an educated guess."

"Why’d
you stop?
Change of heart?"

"Something
like
that. My grandmother who lived in this area had
Alzheimer's disease and because both of my parents traveled for work at the
time, they shipped me over here to care for her." I glanced down at my
hands to make sure I wasn’t fidgeting—something she always corrected me for. "She
passed away a few years ago, and I just decided to stay." I shrugged. "I
think the worst part of it was watching her slip away. There wasn’t a damned
thing I could do."

Jace
set his hand
on the table palm up and nodded to it, squeezing my hand when I gave him mine. "I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

I shook my
head. "It's okay. It is what it is." Then as if to dismiss the
subject completely, I waved my hand. "Anyway, I think I'm done studying
psychology. I might go back if I ever get out of the job I have now, but it
isn't something I'm planning for."

"See,
you're just as jaded as I am. Expect nothing and never get hurt, right?"
Jace
grinned.

I frowned and
chewed at my bottom lip. "You're right." I'd had high expectations
before and they never helped.

"So,
does this mean I have to worry about you analyzing me? Should I be lying down
or something?"

There was
that humor again. Aside from the fact that I'd used my super-psych powers the
other night, it was limited to body language—something I would've picked up on
regardless of what I learned in school. "I can try, but almost everything
I studied was replaced by skew numbers, product codes, or some other useless crap
I learned at
Farrin's
."

"You
don't sound too happy about your job,"
Jace
pointed out, accepting his meal when one of the wait staff brought it out.

I waited for our
waiter to leave and lowered my voice. "In my defense, neither do you."

"Touché.
But just you
wait and see. One day I'm going to be a world-famous singer."

He's joking of course.
I wouldn't
have doubted it for a second. "Hoping for nothing, right?"
No expectations—no way to get hurt.

He pointed
his fork at me.
"Exactly."

 
After we finished with our meal, we decided to
leave the car along

Winslow Way
and started toward
Puget Sound
. The wind
coming off the water was crisp, and a constant reminder of the colder months
ahead. My heels clicked on the pavement, filling in the silence between us as
Jace
took my hand in his.

Passing a few
of the smaller shops,
Jace
made his way toward the
water. It was a clear night, and if it weren't for all the damned streetlamps,
we would've been able to see the stars.
Not
unless you get away from the city.
And that was at least a two hour drive
in all directions.

Jace
leaned
against the railing overlooking the water and spoke just as the ferries closed
down for the night. "Ever been to
Seattle
?"

I glanced at
the landmass far across the water. "Had an interview with a company over
there once, but the commute would've been too much."

Jace
looked
skyward. "We have to head over there on Sunday."

My eyes
widened. "There's a recording studio over there?
Where
at?"

He winced at
the lights shining off the water. "Somewhere off

twenty-third avenue
,
I believe. Kyle's the one who's good with the maps. I just go along with them."

"So they
drag you places, huh?"

He shrugged
and hung his head between his shoulders. "I've been to these things
before. But they were nothing like the one we're going to. The studio in
Seattle
is the real deal.
It has rooms.
Mics
.
Headphones.
Amps.
Places for us to store all our crap."
He looked
at me, and his eyes were darker than before. "Fuck, man, I've played in
front of crowds before, and none of them ever made me feel this queasy."

"Maybe
it's because you're actually going in with some kind of expectation. You aren't
as jaded as you thought, huh?" I elbowed him in the arm. "It's okay,
you know. You're allowed to be soft sometimes."

"I guess,
but I don't even remember getting like this when we had our first gig." He
leaned with his elbows on the rails. "And we all want it. It's the only
thing they talk about at home. I don't think any of us have gotten more than
three hours of sleep this week."

I reached for
his hand, squeezing it as I spoke. "Then maybe we need to get your mind
off it for a while." I smiled when he looked back at me. "Come on. I
know of a warm bed you can sleep in, away from the band."

"Ugh,
man, you have no idea how good that sounds." He turned toward me and
pressed his forehead to mine. "Thanks,
Bree
."

"Anytime."

****

The drive
home felt like an eternity. As soon as we got in the car,
Jace
couldn't go fast enough. And unlike the trip to the club the other night with
Simon, every light we drove toward turned red well before we got there.

"I think
the world's taunting us,"
Jace
murmured,
gripping at the steering wheel.

Passing
streetlights illuminated his face, and when his cheeks hollowed, I could tell
his anxiety from before was still there. He drummed his thumbs on the wheel,
patted a hand against his lap, chewed at his lip.

I reached
over and set my hand on his leg.

He stopped
fidgeting and looked at me before glancing back at the road. He didn't seem as
tense after that. Not until we reached another red light.

Counting down
the minute and a half we had to wait, I decided to take a bold risk and
unbuttoned his slacks.

His mouth
opened, and his jaw nearly hit the floor, but he didn't stop me. Instead, he
focused on the light, only
now,
he was probably
begging it to stay red instead of flipping over to green so we could get back
to my place.

He released a
ragged breath when my fingers brushed up against his cock, which was swollen beneath
two layers of fabric we couldn't possibly remove so long as we were in a moving
car.

The light
turned green, and
Jace
revved the engine, speeding
down Madison Avenue before making a sharp turn onto

Wyatt Way
. We were just a few blocks from
the bar now, but I wasn't finished yet.

Jace
kept both
hands on the wheel, arching his back when I leaned over the center console to
kiss along the side of his neck.
 

"You're
going to get us both killed if you keep—"
Jace's
breath caught, and his body tensed.

"You
just worry about the road," I said, smiling against his neck.

I knew if we
got another red light, I'd never see the end of this, but I didn't care. He'd
either have to keep driving or pull over. Either of which could work, and for a
brief moment, I forgot about it being a Friday night or how many cops were
probably hidden in dark alleys just waiting for us to drive past.

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