Passionate Addiction (13 page)

“I know, and I want to be there for you. I’d like to meet your parents.” Shit. He was putting his heart on the line, and for some reason, he didn’t have a good feeling about the outcome.

She slowly shook her head. “It wouldn’t be the best time to meet them.”

“I know the timing isn’t perfect, but I’d still like to be there. For you.”

She smiled at him, squeezing his fingers. “You’re sweet. But I can’t.”

He waited for her to explain, to give him a reason other than bad timing. Only silence came.

“Why?” He slid his hand away and leaned back in his chair. For years he’d listened to her cry on the anniversary of her brother’s death. Not being able to hold her in his arms and comfort her had torn him apart…and now that he had the opportunity, she was pushing him away.

She focused on his hand as it retreated. “My parents.”

“What about ‘em?” He picked up his knife and fork and started to brutalize his steak.

“Blake,” she pleaded.

The pain in her voice was his undoing, and there was something underneath all that, something she tried to hide from him. He needed to know what it was.

He placed his utensils back down. “What about your parents?”

Gabi winced and looked him straight in the eye. “No matter how I say this, you’re going to take it the wrong way, and I don’t want that.”

Fuck
. Now he was beyond worried. His forehead started to break out in a cold sweat. “Tell me.”

She stretched across the table in search of his hand, and he reached up to meet her. Something bad was coming. He could feel it in the warmth that dissipated from his chest.

“My parents will judge you.”

He fought to contain his annoyance. People always judged him. The concept was far from new when it came to his appearance. So why had it never bothered him until now?

He nodded and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.” He patted her hand, then pushed from his chair, no longer hungry. Grabbing his empty glass, he walked to the nearby kitchen and filled it with water, chugging the contents to drown out the hurt.

“Blake.” He heard her chair scrape and her soft footfalls as she approached.

“I said don’t worry about it, Gabi. I get it.”

She moved in behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder blade. “They worry about me.”

He got that. Really. He did. He was just sick of living with the knowledge that he wasn’t good enough for her. For not being the guy she deserved. He never would be. Even before this weekend he’d known. And those were his own thoughts. What would it be like when someone else was there to reiterate how unworthy he was?

“I’ve told you before that they’re judgmental. They’ve always wanted to see me with an investment banker or lawyer or something equally pompous.” She continued to talk against his back. “And that’s their problem. I knew sooner or later they’d have to deal with what guy I brought home, because their opinion on what type of man I should be with is far from what I envision. But…” She squeezed him tight and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You will remind them of Greg. The tattoos. The clothing. The confidence in who you are. They’ll take one look at you and panic.”

He tightened his hold on the glass and gripped the counter with the other hand. Every word ripped him apart. Every reminder of his lack of worth. But like a masochist, he couldn’t tell her to stop.

“And on any other day, I wouldn’t care, Blake. I swear to you, I wouldn’t. I just can’t do it to them on the anniversary of Greg’s death.”

He turned, poised to walk away and gain some space. “I understand. And they have every right to draw those conclusions. I
am
everything that Greg was. I’m the drug addict from the wrong side of the tracks.” He took a step around her.

She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling hard. “No, you aren’t.” She reached up on her toes so they were mouth to mouth, her heated breath drifting over his skin. “You like to think you’re the bad guy. But you’re not. You’re a soft teddy bear hiding behind tattoos, leather wrist bands, and dark clothing.” Her fingers found his nape, and he closed his eyes briefly at the sensation. “I love you.”

He wanted to push her away, to place distance between them so he could brood in private. Gabi wouldn’t let him.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my parents,” she continued. “For us both to prove them wrong. Together.” Her lips pressed against his, soft and sweet, making his uncontrollable body react. When she pulled back and made eye contact, her irises were fathomless in the deepest blue. “But Wednesday isn’t the day for that. Let me spend this last anniversary with them, because next year, hopefully, I’ll be spending it alone with you.”

Gabi had a way of turning things around and making him hopeful.

“Come lay down with me,” she continued. “My head hurts and I need to rest for a while.”

He stood still, his heart pounding. He would always feel this way. Inferior. It was tearing him apart, and yet, no matter how much it clawed at his chest, he couldn’t fathom walking away. He’d fight anything to be with her, even if it meant his own insecurities.

She moved around him and tugged at his hand. “Come on, sexy rock god. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you make love to me.”

And as quick as that, his mood shifted from self-deprecation, to “let’s ride.”

***

Gabi woke later that night with a start, the bedside clock now reading twelve forty-seven. They’d gone to bed, made love, and must’ve fallen into an exhausted sleep. A loud knock sounded on the suite door, startling her again. She lifted from her stomach onto her elbows and squinted into the darkness.

“Blake?” she whispered. “There’s someone at the door.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Hey, lover boy, open the fuckin’ door.” The shout rang through the suite and made Blake’s head jerk to attention.

“Damn, Mason,” he growled and sat up, brushing a lazy hand over his face. “Go away!” he yelled.

A masculine chuckle echoed in the distance. “No can do, buddy. We’ve got plans to make and I want to meet the woman with beer flavored nipples.”

Gabi’s stomach dropped. They wanted to meet her? Well at least she assumed they meant her. Not that she had any body part that was beer flavored.

Blake groaned again. “He’s not going to go away.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Go back to sleep, angel, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Where are you going?” she asked in a rush. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the inevitability of meeting a band of famous rock stars. Blake’s arrival had been a surprise, and they’d known each other for years. His friends on the other hand were a completely different matter. They were the highly coveted men of Reckless Beat.

“I’ll go to Mason’s suite so you can sleep. I won’t be long.”

He grabbed his clothes from the chair in the corner and dressed.

“Do you want me to come with you?” She held the sheet to her naked chest.

“No. Mason sounds like he’s in the mood to stir up shit. You don’t wanna be around that.” He strode to the door, holding the frame as he glanced back at her. “You can meet them in the morning.” Without a goodbye, he strode away.

Light entered the bedroom when he opened the suite door and Mason’s voice became louder. “Where’s the hottie?”

“Sleepin’. So keep your fuckin’ voice down.”

She heard claps of flesh on flesh and hoped they were hugging and not punching the crap out of each other.

“I bet I could find a pleasurable way to wake her.” Mason chuckled.

“She’s too much woman for you, Mace. You couldn’t keep up.”

“Fuck that. I’m willing to try.”

“Move outta the way. Let her get back to sleep.”

The light began to fade.

“Goodnight, beer-flavored-nipples-lady.”

Gabi smothered a laugh with her hand.

“You’re a dick,” Blake replied. The suite door closed with a click, leaving her in darkness.

Gabi’s humor faded as she flopped back onto the bed. Her concerns from earlier seeped back in. Maybe she shouldn’t have been honest with Blake about meeting her parents. She could’ve made an excuse for him not to come home with her instead of telling the brutal truth. But that wasn’t her. She didn’t lie. She couldn’t stand people lying to her, so she gave him the same respect he always paid her. Only, she’d hurt him in the process and fallen asleep before she could make sure he was all right.

“I’m such an idiot.” She squeezed her eyes closed.

First thing in the morning she would talk to him—when her head no longer throbbed and she could think straight. Until then, she needed all the beauty sleep she could get if she had to meet the family that was Reckless Beat.

Blake strode beside Mason to the elevator and waited for the lead singer of Reckless Beat to hit the button.

“So… Is there a reason why you woke me in the middle of the night?” Blake yawned and blinked his eyes until they stayed open on their own.

Mason jabbed him lightly in the ribs with his fists. “I missed ya, bro.”

“Don’t give me that shit. It’s only been a couple days.”

The doors to the elevator opened and Mason stepped in, holding his hotel card to the security panel before pressing the number to the floor above. “Yeah, I never was a good liar.”

Blake followed him in for the short ride up to the next floor. “So, what then?”

Mason waggled his brows. “We’ve got plans to make.”

He followed Mason into the hall. “What plans?”

“I’ll let Mr. Smitten fill you in.”

Mr. Smitten? Mitch, Obviously. Unless someone else had fallen head over dick in the last few days.

Mason opened the door to the only suite on their side of the hallway and led him into a dimly lit dining room. Mitch sat on a coffee colored sofa, his head resting back, his eyes closed. Leah, their band manager, was on the far end reading a magazine.

“Blake.” Leah greeted him with a smile and threw the magazine onto the coffee table in front of her.

“At least one of us is getting some sleep,” Blake grumbled.

Mitch sat up straight and opened his eyes with a yawn. “Good to see you, too, ass-wipe.”

Mason dropped onto the opposite couch and crossed his legs.

“Where is everyone?” Blake strode around Mason and sat on the armrest.

“Sleepin’. Alana and I are downstairs on the same floor as you.” Mitch jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “And Sean and Ryan are back there, snorin’. How’s your woman?”

“Gabi’s fine. She’d be even better if I was sleeping beside her, so get on with it.”

Mitch smirked. “Consider it a returned favor. I won’t forget the day you dry humped Allie in her sleep.”

Blake’s lips curved. Although his playing days were over, the memory of that morning with Alana and Mitchell made his blood pump faster. “I can still taste her on my lips.”

Mitchell’s smirk changed to a glare and his hands clenched into the sofa cushions. “Payback, motherfucker. It’s coming.” Blake chuckled. Mitch was way too easy to rile. “Yuck it up. You’ll get what’s comin’ to ya. Someday soon, Gabi might wake up with me rubbing against her.”

Leah pivoted in her seat and pinned Mitch with her blue-green stare. “Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate seeing as though you and Alana are getting engaged?”

Engaged
?

Mitch crossed his arms over his chest and glowered. “You know what I mean, Leah. He’s gotta pay for being such a cocky prick. I’ll get Mason to do it if I have to.”

Engaged
? A lot had changed in a little over forty-eight hours.

“Don’t worry. If she’s a hottie, I won’t need encouragement.” Mason grinned and they all turned to Blake waiting for him to bite. “So, is she a hottie?”

Blake frowned. He’d been away for two days and the whole dynamic changed. “When the hell did you get engaged?”

Mitch smiled and sat forward in his chair. “I’m proposing tomorrow.”

Blake ignored the tightening in his throat, not wanting to acknowledge that the sensation sprung from envy. It had nothing to do with Mitchell’s gorgeous girlfriend and everything to do with what Blake wished he could have with Gabi.

He wanted to be the one proposing. He wanted to be the one getting down on his knee and peering up into the beautiful face of the woman he loved. Except, he was stuck in the secret boyfriend zone, not even able to meet her parents.

Pasting on a smile, he stood and stepped to the side of the table, holding a hand out for Mitch to shake. “Holy shit, bro. That’s awesome.” It
was
awesome. Mitch had scored above his pay grade when it came to Alana. She was a special kind of woman. One you didn’t let go of, and they both belonged together.

They clasped hands over the corner of the coffee table and knocked each other’s shoulders in the only form of acceptable masculine affection.

“Thanks. That’s the reason you’re here.”

Blake stepped back and took his seat on the armrest.

“I need help planning it.” Mitch sighed. “I want to make it special for her.”

Blake nodded. “Well seeing as though your first attempt was done in a superhero costume with no thought or prior planning, I think you’re a step ahead.”