Ross 03 Leave Me Breathless (9 page)

The simple frame house appeared dark from the street, the driveway empty of both Gus’s truck and his girlfriend’s Jeep. Ghost parked and killed the engine, then sat in indecision.

This most likely had been a wasted trip. He should just call Macy now, go be with her and forget about everyone else’s fucking problems. He got out anyway and strode to the front door, pounding on it hard enough to wake the dead. And hopefully no one fitting that description was inside.

“Gus!”

The neighbors were probably going to come out shooting. He battered the door a few more times, rattling the three small squares of glass at his eye level. Peeking inside one of them revealed nothing but darkness in the living room. Impulsively, he gave the knob a twist, surprised when it gave and the door creaked open.

Well, this was probably wrong, but something told him to do it anyway. He hit the switch and flooded the room with sickly pale light, as all but one of the bulbs in the overhead ceiling-fan kit were burnt out. But that light was enough to disturb the snoring heap on the couch. Gus flopped over away from the disruption.

The breath left Ghost in a relieved rush. His friend was here. Not in jail, not lying in a ditch and, apparently, not dead. But the smell of alcohol was strong even from his position across the room. Hell, that was a good sign. Drunk he could deal with.

“Dude,” he bellowed, striding across the room and yanking him over onto his back. “Wake your ass up.”

Gus’s eyes flew open, so bloodshot he could’ve had a double case of conjunctivitis. “Huh? The fuck you come from, man?”

“I’ve only tried to call you about a dozen times to explain. And so have the guys, because we wanted to put together a jam session tonight.”

Gus’s bleary gaze tracked over to the clock on the bookshelf, taking a moment to focus on the time. “Shit.”

“Shit is right. You’re in a world of it if you don’t pull it together. They’re ready to toss you, kid.”

Gus pressed the heels of his palms into both eyes. “I don’t even care anymore.”

“Don’t say that. Where is your truck?”

“Wrecked it.” He burst out laughing. It was a terrible, almost frightening sound, and it turned into a coughing fit. Ghost took a couple steps back in case he started spewing vomit. Once he subsided, he lay back and grimaced. “Wrapped it around a tree, totaled that fucker.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.”

“Were you drunk?”

“Hell yes.”

“What are you trying to do, man? Kill yourself? Or somebody else?”

“Naw. That bitch ain’t worth that.”

Ah. It all became staggeringly clear. “Great. When did she take off?”

“
Fuck
her.”

“Okay. But will you look at yourself? It’s no wonder she split. I want to leave you too, and I don’t even have to live with you.”

“So leave.” Gus flicked a hand at him, turning his face toward the back of the couch again and throwing his arm over his head. “I don’t give a shit.”

This scene was so damn familiar, Ghost’s hands began to shake. Except he had been the one in his friend’s place. Brian had been the one trying to drag him kicking and screaming, fighting and cursing, back to the world of the living.

He had to turn away, fighting to fill his lungs with air. Old wounds he’d thought long since healed threatened to rip open and ooze again. Words he didn’t want to remember ricocheted in his brain, replacing Macy’s sweet sounds of pleasure that had been echoing there all day.

Brooke explaining to him over the phone why she’d left him. Her fucking weak-ass excuses. Each one of them an insult after the sheer magnitude of what she’d done to him.

It had been so long ago, it shouldn’t have still been so close to the surface. But it was. It could be triggered by the simple sound of a particular voice…and not even hers. He hadn’t spoken a single word to her in six years.

No other woman had ever fucked with his head like that. Not Raina. No one. No one ever would again. He’d all but sworn it in blood.

“You gotta get over this shit, man,” he said, hearing the tremor in his own voice. Who was he to give that advice?

He was someone who knew how the guilt, the
I-should-have
s and the raw sense of betrayal could eat a guy alive, if he sat around and let it fester.

“I don’t even know what she did,” he went on, “and I don’t care. Let it go.”

“It’s not even about—”

“Don’t dick me around. I know exactly what it’s about. You do this every time. I’m just amazed you’re coherent.”

“Give me time.”

Oh god
damn
. Did he have to go and say that out loud? Ghost turned around and shoved his boot down hard on the couch cushion Gus was lying on. “Look, if I have to haul you back to my place and sit on you until you dry out, I will.”
And you really have no idea how much I don’t want to do that. I’m supposed to get spectacularly laid tonight.
He could already feel the anticipation draining away…until a miraculous flash of inspiration struck him. “Or better yet, I can dump you out at your dad’s.”

Gus’s dad was a cop, and a big one at that. Hell, even Ghost was scared of him.

That got a reaction. “No friggin’ way, man. You call my dad, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“
That’s
funny. Look, if you really don’t give a shit about life anymore, do what you gotta do. I know from experience nothing I say or do is going to change anything. But I’ll tell you one thing—you skip out on practice Saturday, and you seal your fate with the guys. They’re done. So am I. Think about that while you’re prioritizing.”

Gus was silent as Ghost stalked across the room. He switched off the light, bathing the room in the darkness Gus craved, before slamming the door behind him.

And breathed. That house had been…oppressive. Like the dark cloud hanging over his friend had begun to permeate his skin.

Fucking relationship drama. God, if there was one thing he didn’t need. He’d had it in spades, and if Macy hadn’t seemed like such a practical person with a decent head on her shoulders, he might have called off tonight no matter how his genitals might protest.

He pulled out his cell phone and, feeling like a tattletale, called Gus’s parents to let them know they needed to check on him. His friend would want to kill him for it, but better that he was alive to do so.

And…well, that was all there was to do. Practice had been a bust. He’d been confronted with a pathetic ugliness he hadn’t needed to see. But now he was done. Free at last. For a guy who wanted no strings with a girl, he was sure chomping at the bit to get to this one.

Macy’s phone rang, and she leaped halfway across the living room to snatch it up. All night, she’d kept it within arm’s reach, and of course he picked the one moment she put it down to call.

“I was starting to think you’d changed your mind,” she said by way of greeting.

“Sorry about that. Had to handle some business with a friend.”

“Everything okay?”

“Not really, but it will be as soon as I see you.”

So he could talk sweet as well as sexy. She smiled and settled the phone between her ear and her shoulder. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“My place or yours?”

Considering she’d spent the evening cleaning like crazy? There was no way she was going to put all that effort to waste. Not that she was a slob, but she very rarely actually
dusted
. “Mine. Do you know where I live?”

“Are you kidding? I hide out underneath your bedroom window every night. I was really there last night, watching you.”

She laughed. “Oh, really.”

“No. What’s your address?”

She gave him quick directions, and he said he knew the building.

No going back now, was there? Well, she supposed she
could
, but…who would want to?

“Are you dressed?” he asked.

“Hey now, we did all that last night. Let’s just wait—”

“No, you goof. I meant are you decently attired such that we might go into public without getting arrested.”

Public? “Oh. Yeah, I’m dressed.”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.” He hung up.

Okaaay. Nothing had been said about any public appearances. This wasn’t a
date
. What on earth did he have in mind?

She was staring out her living room window exactly eighteen minutes later when his GTO purred its way into the parking space in front of her apartment. Purse already in hand, she bolted for the door, excitement churning through her belly.

Seth was already out of the car and striding around to the other side to open the door for her. She almost stopped in her tracks. He looked good enough to eat. And demand seconds. Tight black V-neck T-shirt, leather jacket and ratty jeans that broke over his boots just the right way. On his head was a black Fedora. He was definitely a guy who could pull off hats.

Dayum
. Maybe she could take him somewhere after all.

“Wow,” she said as she skirted around the door he held open. “You look great.”

“Wow yourself,” he said, his lopsided grin wreaking havoc with things down south.

Did they really have to go anywhere?

When the clean smell inside his car unleashed a torrent of flashbacks, she put the question to him as soon as he got in the driver’s side. He planted his arm across the seatback and turned to look out the rear window as he backed out. The position gave her a great view of his neck. How she wanted to nibble that thick vein, lick it, feel his pulse throbbing inside.

“Well,” he answered, “I hope you don’t get mad, but Brian called a few minutes before I called you. There’s a get-together at a friend’s house, and he wanted me to go hang out with them. I shut him down, but when I was talking to you, I remembered everything you were saying last night, and…I thought this might be a good thing for you. If you don’t want to go, say the word. We’ll get sushi instead.”

Ah, sushi, the one interest they did share. But she wasn’t hungry. She shrugged. “I don’t mind going. Candace will be around, right?”

His scoff had her lifting an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen those two in the last year when they’re not attached at the hip?”

“Hmm. Do we have a certain measure of hostility about that?”

“I wouldn’t say I have
hostility
about it.” He straightened in his seat and zoomed out of her parking lot. “He’s in a fool’s paradise, and I hate it for him. That’s all.”

“Why do you say that? They seem pretty solid to me. She would never hurt him; that much I’d bet my life on.”

“Every relationship I’ve ever seen is like a bubble ready to burst, and most of them do.”

“Some of them don’t.”

“I guess I’m too cynical to think any of them around me are going to remain intact.”

Insanely curious now, she glanced over at him, sizing up his body language as he manhandled the gearshift. If they hadn’t passed through the yellowish wash of a street light, casting the tense lines of his face into stark relief, she might have thought these were simple observations of his.

“So who burned you?” she asked casually, smoothing her palms over her jeans.

He waved a dismissive hand. “An hour ago I was standing over the miserable, wasted heap of a good friend who would rather lose everything he’s worked for than even make an effort to get over the woman who keeps walking out on him.”

She didn’t buy it, but if it was a conversation that was going to bring down the night, she didn’t want to have it. “I’m sorry about that. But don’t let it sour you. These things work out all the time, and sometimes they don’t, but that’s life.” She shrugged and fell silent, staring out the window as the buildings gave way to skeletal trees missing their summer foliage. God, she hated winter.

The solid warmth of his fingers curled around her hand. She looked over to find Seth watching her in between glances at the road. “Didn’t mean to get heavy on you, there.”

“It’s okay.” At least she knew there wouldn’t be any weirdness on his end, if he had such a foul outlook on relationships. “Honestly…I wouldn’t know about the drama, myself. The one serious relationship I had, it was just… nice. All the time. So any speculation on my part about these things is just me talking out of my ass.”

He grinned and his thumb stroked over the back of her hand. “Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I’ve had more than my share…and I don’t recommend it.”

He had?

The two little words kept echoing in her head as their drive continued, as he parked among what must’ve been a dozen other cars at a house in the middle of nowhere, as they walked through the front door to a chorus of greetings from people who were strangers to her.

He’d
had serious relationships? He’d been in love?

If ever a man existed that she would’ve pegged for never having succumbed to the lure of domesticity, it was Seth Warren. Wow. She couldn’t even imagine the guy in a relationship that lasted more than one night. Or one night at a time, at least.

“Check him out, lookin’ all
GQ
and shit.” Some guy laughed, giving Seth’s hat a thump.