Love Resolution (Black Cat Records series) (20 page)

“Oh!” She grabbed onto his upper arms to steady herself.

“Excuse me,” he muttered voice gruff, his taut biceps flexing beneath her hands.

She didn’t move, couldn’t move, savoring the warmth and feel of him. When her gaze finally lifted from where it had stalled out on the center of his chest, she encountered his blue as the Caribbean eyes and fell into them with a splash.

Her grip tightened. She didn’t want to let him go. Not now, not ever.

His hands came up and covered hers.

“Marcus, please,” she pleaded, moistening her lips and moved in closer. “I miss you so much. Talk to me. I know we can work this out.”

He stared at her. A moment passed, and then another. She allowed hope to soar from the cage of her heart.

“No, Avery,” he said softly, prying her fingers loose. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Hope plummeted to earth, sputtered, and died. Bitter tears curtained her eyes as she watched him turn the corner out of sight.

“You ok, Avery?” Ray asked.

“No, I’m not.” His rejection was a searing wound through her chest. She felt battered and bruised inside and out. “I’m going to need a moment.”

He took a step toward her as if he wanted to comfort her, and then hesitated. “Sure. I’ll give you a few.” All business he moved toward the exit. “I’ll send the rest on ahead to the hotel,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll wait for you by the car.”

Marcus took another swig of his Coke, wishing it was Crown instead. A whole lot of Crown.

Something to take the edge off.

Something to help him forget.

It had been a near thing on the plane today. He’d been about a heartbeat away from taking what she had offered. He no longer trusted himself to do the right thing where she was concerned. He had no freaking willpower when it came to her. He was going to have to do something drastic to get her to move on with her life. Something to make her hate him.

His gaze flicked over to her again. He’d been pathetic, stalking her all night with his eyes.

It didn’t help that she looked so devastatingly beautiful.

She was wearing some clingy thing that gathered around her wrists and was tied at the chest. His fingers itched to loosen the ribbon so he could watch the black and white dress slip off her shoulders and puddle to the floor. No doubt underneath there’d be some sexy lingerie. Maybe he’d even talk her into keeping those high heels on when…

Shit
.

He pulled the collar of his t-shirt away from his hot neck. He barely refrained from audibly growling at the jackals salivating all over her, including that effing Tempest guitarist. His hands tightened on the glass tumbler in his hand. He and that guy had some unfinished business that needed to be resolved. He took a step toward him, anticipating an outlet for the tension coiled inside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery throw her arms around some handsome Latino guy he didn’t recognize. The impeccably groomed man ran a familiar hand through Avery’s hair and down her arm before he kissed her hand.

Who the hell was this?

“Benito!” Trevor exclaimed. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Oh, so
this
was the guy responsible for Avery’s gender bending transformation. She’d mentioned him before, but she’d never said anything about how good looking or touchy feely he was. His eyes narrowed.

“Hey, little brother,” Dwight said, moving to stand close beside him. He followed the direction of Marcus’ gaze. “Who’s that guy with Avery?”

“Ricardo Benito,” he muttered.

“The celebrity stylist?”

“Apparently,” he bit out, feeling pissed as he watched Benito flirt with her.

“They look pretty cozy.”

His sentiments exactly.
Marcus closed his eyes, shuttering his emotions from view. When he opened them Dwight was still there. “Do you need something bro, or are you just hanging around to torment me?”

“Marcus, it’s obvious you’re still in love with her.”

Marcus thought it pointless to deny it.

“So why don’t you try to work things out with her?”

“There’s nothing to work out.”

“Doesn’t appear that way to me.”

“Leave it, Dwight,” Marcus growled. “Things don’t always end up the way we want them to.”

“Strange talk coming from a control freak like you.” Dwight’s brows rose. “Haven’t you always just taken what you wanted?”

Marcus glared at him.

“I don’t understand you, little brother. Why do you torture yourself? It seems like you want to be miserable. Actually I’m too tired to argue with you tonight. I need to call Lisa before I turn in.” He glanced at Avery and then back at Marcus. He shook his head as he walked off muttering, “You know where to find me if you need me.”

Absently, Marcus nodded, searching the room for Avery. Locating her again, he moved in closer, not happy to see Jackson had joined her now. Maybe he couldn’t have her, but he definitely didn’t want that douche to be his replacement.

“Hey, Marcus. Old buddy.” A tall, slim man with shaggy blond hair and a crooked nose came up, slapped him on the back and unwittingly blocked his view of Avery. “Long time no see. How the heck are you?” His brow rose curiously as Marcus strained to see around him.

“Owen,” Marcus replied distractedly. “How are you?”

“Good. Just got back from Hawaii. You remember Wendy Wilcox don’t you?” Owen drew a statuesque tanned blonde into view.

“Hello, Marcus,” she purred, her lips lingering an uncomfortably long time on his cheek. Oh, yeah. He remembered her. Remembered that they had nothing in common except what they had shared in the bedroom.

“Wendy,” Marcus returned and took a step back, totally disinterested in what she was selling. A quick glance at Avery revealed that her attention was riveted in their direction. Her brows were lowered and her posture stiff.

“Avery,” Marcus heard Jackson say as he tugged on her arm.

She blinked and her attention shifted back to her small entourage.

And that’s when Marcus knew exactly what he would have to do. It would hurt her temporarily, but after he did it, they would be done. Permanently. There would be no more pleas from her to get back together.

And he knew just the right woman for the job.

Adrienne Tate.

Groupie extraordinaire.

The only thing Adrienne loved more than sleeping with someone famous was telling everyone else about it.

“Wendy tells me you guys dated back when you lived out here in LA,” Owen mentioned.

“Dating? Is that what you called it?” Marcus commented drily. “I’d use a different word,” he concluded, leaving Owen perplexed and Wendy smirking before making his way toward Avery.

He saw Avery’s chin dip. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Will you all please excuse me? I need to… I need to…” Words seemed to fail her as she hurried away.

“Avery,” Marcus called out and caught her by the elbow before she made it out the door.

“What do you want?” she hissed under her breath, tugging her arm free.

“You were right. Earlier on the plane. We do need to sit down. Hash this out.”

Her expression softened.

“There are things that need to be cleared up. Let’s get together tomorrow in San Diego.”

“What time?” she asked after a short pause.

“You have the Opus thing in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Well, unfortunately I’ve got shit booked up through the afternoon. Why don’t we meet after the concert? My room. So we can talk privately.”

“Alright,” she agreed.

The hope that he saw blossom in her eyes drove a spike of dread straight through his heart.

Alone in the small tropically themed lobby of the Half Moon Inn in San Diego, Avery picked at the threads in the colorful floral pattern of the cushion on the rattan chair while she waited for her ride to arrive. A fish tank bubbled softly behind her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, trying to allow the soothing sounds to quiet her unsettled mind.

Her thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous night. After her conversation with Marcus, she had watched him leave the party with Owen and Wendy, jealousy sinking its razor sharp claws deep into her heart. She’d moved toward the door to go sulk in her room when Bryan had stepped in front of her. “Is everything ok?” he’d asked. “You look upset.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” She had started to walk around him, but he had grabbed her arm. “Let go of me,” she’d told him, enunciating each word carefully, her irritation bleeding over into her tone. “Go on back to your skanky groupies and leave me the hell alone.
”

Eyes narrowed, he’d had no answer to that and given her venom, it’d been no great surprise that he’d complied with her wishes.

Back in the swanky white on white California beach themed room at the C Beverly, she’d endured yet another sleepless night, this one even worse than the previous as she’d lain awake wondering if Marcus had taken Wendy to his bed.

I’d use a different word.

She’d eventually moved out to the lounger on her balcony. Putting her earbuds in, she had scrolled up the volume trying to drown out her tortured thoughts, anxiously waiting for the sunrise.

After that, she had successfully avoided contact with Marcus as well as everyone else, boarding the plane well ahead of them and locking herself in the bedroom. If he’d been with Wendy, she hadn’t wanted to know and couldn’t have borne the pity from the others. Mentally, she had held it together, but just barely. Scratching off each hour she’d endured. Hoping that when the time finally came to talk, Marcus would tell her this had all been a big mistake. But the evidence against that happening was becoming impossible to ignore, and as that had started to sink in, her thoughts had become increasingly negative.

Face it.

He’s moved on.

It’s over.

There’s nothing left to save.

She should have been used to people checking out on her when she needed them most. No one ever loved her enough to stay. First, her father after her mom died, then Justin with the drugs, and now Marcus.

Intentional or not, each time she ended up feeling emptier than the last. It was getting harder and harder to pick up the pieces and go on. She was beginning to wonder if she should trust anyone with her heart.

“Good morning.”

Startled, Avery swiped at her eyes before looking up.

Bryan stood in front of her wearing low hanging jeans and a corded navy shirt, his faux hawk perfectly styled with gel. He set down a guitar case.

“Morning,” she mumbled, cheeks flagging with red, remembering the last words she’d spoken to him.

The cushion sank down as he sat beside her. “When’s our ride coming?”

“What?”

“Our ride,” he spoke the two words loudly as if she was hard of hearing and raised a brow. “To the high school in Epicida. It hasn’t been cancelled, has it?”

“No, but I really didn’t expect you to still come. I mean I know we talked about it before, but after the way I acted last night.” She blew out a breath and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry by the way.”

“Apology unnecessary, but accepted. Dammit Red, I’m new to this friend business, but I’d be a real shitty one if I abandoned you the first time you said an unkind word to me, don’t you think?”

She nodded, attempting a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Why’d you bring your guitar?”

“I thought I might play something. The kids in LA kept asking us to.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, why don’t you go get yours, and then we’ll come up with something to do together on the drive over?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”

“Avery.” He swiveled to put a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you do what you wanna do for a change?”

“You’re right.” Her chin lifted. “I’ll get my guitar and be right back.”