Snare (Falling Stars #3) (27 page)

"Nice to meet you," she says, her voice cool.

"Yeah, you too," I blurt, just as insincere.

Her eyes widen before she scowls.

I don't even care right now. I'm so mad at the ginger beast for turning me inside out.

Sidestepping Kami, I find Liza and stick to her like glue.

The weight of his stare is like someone tapping at your back, nonstop, for an hour. It makes me fidgety and anxious. The amount of energy it's taking to ignore him is exhausting the shit out of me.

"I'm gonna go check in with Kel," I tell Liza.

Taking my hand, she squeezes.

"You okay?" she asks, her voice full of concern.

"Just tired," I lie.

She doesn't buy it, but she lets me go with a look telling me we're talking later.

"Sid," Lyra shouts, stopping me.

Damn it. So close to escaping.

Putting on a smile, I turn to her.

"Hey," I greet.

"Cass and I are going on stage tonight with Dad." She bounces on the balls of her feet, Cass quietly moving in next to her sister.

"I heard!" I exclaim. It's hard not to be excited when she's so pumped.

Moving my eyes to Cass, I ask, "You excited?"

She bites her lip, but nods.

"It's okay to be nervous," I say, squatting down. "Everyone gets nervous." Leaning in closer to them, I whisper, "See Liza over there?"

Their eyes shift to where my cousin sits on Jackson's lap. When they look back at me, they nod.

"Even she still gets nervous. In fact, I had to calm her down at the last concert, she was so nervous."

"Is she your friend?" Lyra asks.

"More like a sister," I answer, smiling, my eyes flitting to Liza and then back to the girls, "but we're cousins."

"Oh," Lyra looks between us, "you don't look like you're related."

"Don't I know it," I laugh out, standing again. "Not all of us can look like her."

"No, we can't," Lyra agrees, but then says, "You have prettier hair."

"Lyra," Cass gives her sister a warning hush.

"What?" She shrugs. "I think you have prettier eyes, too."

I don't know what to say, so I just blink.

Cass groans, covering her face.

"In fact," she looks over at Liza and drops her voice, "she's super pretty, but I definitely want boobs like yours." Her eyes drop to my chest.

"Oh my God," Cass moans, her face now turning dark pink.

"Yeah, well…" I stumble over my words, "don't let your dad hear that."

"I'd never," Lyra gasps. "He's a guy, he just doesn't understand."

Unable to hold it back, laughter bubbles up and out of my mouth.

"I'll make sure to get out there and watch your performance," I tell them as I walk out of the room.

Funny, Xavier twists me inside out, but his daughters make me feel like a goddamn rock star. I definitely like them more than I like him. The ginger-bearded ass crack.

Chapter Twenty-Three
Sidra

Hours later, the bands are finished on stage and meeting with the charity representatives. I'm wrapping up everything so I can get the hell out of here.

"What's going on?" Liza's question makes me jump.

"Christ, don't sneak up on me," I breathe, hand over my rapid beating heart.

"Spill it," she orders.

So, I tell her while multi-tasking with the website, comments, and posting thank you videos. By the time I'm sharing the last behind-the-scenes photo, I've caught Liza up on Xavier's weird change.

Surprising me, she falls into a fit of laughter.

"What's so damn funny?" I snap. "I didn't do a damn thing for him to be mad about."

"Oh my God," she pants, "just the fact," she gasps, "that you are worried," she gasps again. "You are soooooo falling for him."

"Am not!" I argue.

"You so are," she laughs out. "I never thought I'd see the day that my hump-him-and-dump-him cousin would become a one-man kind of woman."

"Bite your tongue, hussy!" I throw a crumpled post-it note, hitting her in the arm.

"Me thinks she doth protests too much," she quotes, taunting.

"Whatever," I grumble, hating that deep down, in the crazy girl area, she's right. "Is your car here? I'm going to the hotel with you."

"Isn't your stuff at his house?" she asks, no longer laughing.

"Yep, but I'll send someone to get it later."

I close up my laptop and collect all my devices into my bag.

"Sid, you should probably talk to him," she advises.

"Nope." I sling my bag over my shoulder. "So, tell the graffiti giant he's going to have blue balls tonight, 'cause I'm sleeping over."

Grinning wide, I wrap my arm in hers and drag her to the venue exit.

Jack slides into the car, closing the door behind him. His eyes instantly land on me.

"Oh, fuck no," he shouts.

"She's coming to the hotel with us," Liza says.

"No, she's not," Jack argues.

Liza crosses her arms over her chest and scowls.

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head and reopens the car door, "don't give me that look."

"I can't believe you're being such a jerk." Liza's bottom lip quivers.

Now, I feel like a jerk.

"Don't worry about it," I interrupt. "I'll get a taxi to the hotel."

I scoot toward the door, but Liza puts her hand out, stopping me.

Remember that mama bear I told you about? Yeah, she's in the zone and I'm not even going to poke her right now—even if I probably deserve it.

"The only person getting out of this car is him," she grounds out, jaw clenched and fire in her eyes.

"You weren't just inside helping Xavier look for her," he argues, pointing at me.

I blink at this information.

"Why is he looking for me? He's done his best to avoid me," I disclose.

"Fuck," Jack groans, rubbing his palms over his eyes, "I don't want to get in the middle of you two."

"Then close the door and you won't be between me—"

"Not you," Jack cuts Liza off. "Her," he points at me with his long, inked finger, "and Xavier." He motions toward the building. "You've never seen the angry Xavier beast," Jack leans toward Liza. "I have. Then, I have to worry about my dick getting the Christmas ornament treatment if I piss
her
off again." He extends his finger in my direction. "No fucking thank you."

"I don't care," Liza bites out. "Sid, you're—"

"Going to get your ass out of the car." Xavier's voice is unmistakably angry.

Dropping my head on a heavy exhale, I slide over to the door, and mumble, "Jackson?"

"Yeah," he answers, meeting my eyes.

"You're dead to me." I point to my eyes and then at him. "Merry fucking Christmas," I say, dropping my eyes to his crotch before climbing out.

As I straighten out of the car, Xavier's arms come to both sides, caging me against it.

His nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and eyes hard and narrowed on mine, I find myself pissed off, but also aroused.

Why does pissing him off make me so hot?

"You're really going to order me out of the car just to pin me to it?" I snap.

"We need to talk," he growls, deep and low, sending fuck-him-against-the-car vibes straight to Xena.

"I have no idea why you are so pissed off, but whatever it is, it's your problem." I poke a finger at his chest.

Pushing off the car, he points to another one waiting behind Jack and Liza's.

Oh no, he is not ordering me around.

Stepping closer, I press my chest against his body and push up on my toes.

"You and your orders can go fuck themselves, dickhole," I shout.

I turn to my left and get two steps away before his arms band around me from behind.

"You want to do this here?" he asks, the question a threat. "Fine."

He turns me to face him, but his hands stay locked on my arms.

Uncomfortable with the public manhandling, I try to pull out of his grip.

"I thought we had a mutual understanding that it's just you and me," he growls low.

"What are you talking about?" I stop struggling for a minute.

"I saw you and Jimmy's moment back there," his head jerks toward the building, "and if I'm fucking you, I think you could, at least, let me know who else is too."

There's an instant flash of regret on his face, but it's too late.

"I agree." My response surprises him. "
If
I were fucking someone else, you should be told. You wouldn't want to stick your face where someone else's dick has been."

Too far? Probably. Do I give two shits? Nope. I give no shits and no fucks.

"Christ, Sid, if you're fucking Jimmy, too, I just want to know. I'm not okay with sharing."

"Whoa, wait," Jimmy starts to interject, but I put my hand up, silencing him.

The weight of so many stares is becoming too much. Knowing even more ears are privy to this conversation, my skin burns with embarrassment.

"You're an asshole," I shout.

Finally pulling out of his hold, I take three steps back.

"So, tell me about my exploits with Jimmy, 'cause I'm fascinated by what your imagination's come up with," I quip, every word exaggerated.

I turn to Jimmy and continue, "And you'll have to let me know how accurate he is."

Sliding my eyes back to Xavier, I growl, "Since I've never had the experience." Then, I shrug and lean toward him. "But
maybe
, after this, I'll be persuaded."

"Fuck, Xavier, there's nothing going on," Jimmy confesses.

Snapping my head toward him, I narrow my eyes.

"Sorry, Sid, I've known him too long to let this shit hang," he apologizes and walks up to Xavier. Clamping a hand to his shoulder, he says, "She's doing some less than legal research for me." With a pat, he walks away from us.

"Fuck," Xavier breathes.

"You," I finish for him.

His large hand grabs my bicep and he drags me back into The Fillmore.

"Manhandling," I accuse, but stumble along behind him.

Any other guy, and he would taste his balls right now. Fucking Xavier, I want to be pissed, angry, and hate, but him… My chest constricts at the thought of ditching his ginger ass and skips a beat for considering hating him. I even rethink glitter bombing him. Why? Because I'm sure I'll want to jump his dick the moment he flares a nostril and I will not have glitter-clit.

Treacherous fucking organ!

He finds an empty room and pulls me inside, closing the door behind us.

"Why be private now?" I snap.

Xavier releases my arm and rubs the back of his neck.

I face him, arms crossed over my chest.

"When I saw you walk away with him…" he lets the words drift off.

I say nothing.

"Then he had his arms around you in the hall. My jealousy was irrational and I'm sorry."

His eyes meet mine, now soft, a silent plea to forgive him.

"I'm not used to getting jealous. It's been a long fucking time." There's an intensity to his words, like he's trying to say something else.

"Not my fault or problem," I retort.

"You're right," he agrees.

"You're an asshole," I add.

"Yeah, I am."

"What you did out there," I point at the door, "in front of everyone…" I clench my jaw, unable to finish.

"I know," he concedes, stepping closer.

My heart flutters and stomach tingles. I tamper that shit down and narrow my eyes.

Goddamn it, I don't know how to fight like this.

"Stop agreeing with me," I snap, "It makes it hard to be mad at you!"

"I don't want you to be mad at me." His words sound like an oath.

"Fuck," I groan.

"I acted like an asshole, a jealous asshole," he begins.

"A jealous inflamed asshole," I correct.

He has the nerve to fucking grin.

"A jealous inflamed asshole," he repeats, then adds, "I went a bit crazy."

"And every time you see me around another guy, hug or whatever, you're going to go all 'me, Sasquatch, you Sid'?" I shake my head. "No thanks."

Liar, liar, panties on fire. Apeshit jealous Xavier has you so worked up, you've pictured riding him—twice.

"I'm not perfect and can't control if I get jealous," he admits.

I open my mouth, but he puts a hand up.

"But I can promise not to stew on it and go crazy." He moves even closer.

Our eyes lock and the heat of his body penetrates through my clothes.

The moment he's against me, full frontal contact, the heat races straight between my thighs.

Struggling with the urge to claw out his eyes, kick him in the balls, and angry fuck him, I clench my hands at my side.

"I hate you," I grumble.

Oh, how I hate him. I hate what he did, how he affects me, and the way he makes me feel shit I don't want to.

"I know," he whispers, his warm, calloused hand slipping around my neck and into my hair.

Reaching up, I grip the cotton against his chest.

Fisting the hair at the back of my head, he brings his mouth an inch from mine.

"You're turning me inside out," his words wash over my face, "and I hate you for it."

The admission goes straight to my heart, making it gallop in my chest.

In the stupidest dumb girl decision ever I pull on his shirt and push up on my toes.

"Shut up, you're better when you don't talk." I accentuate the words with a lick to his lip.

The force of his mouth crashing on mine sends us stumbling back and slamming into a wall.

His hands go to my ass, squeezing.

Frantically grabbing at the fly of his jeans, I yank and jerk his body to get them open. The moment the zipper is lowered, I slip my hand inside.

I break away from the kiss, and pant, "No underwear?"

"Gets in the way," he responds.

One of his hands moves from my ass to hip, sliding up my body until he can brush my hair over my shoulder. Tugging the collar of my shirt away, his mouth latches on to my neck.

Pushing his hips against my hand, I wrap my fingers around him and stroke.

"Back pocket," he growls into my skin.

Getting into his pocket, I find the condom, bring the packet between my teeth, tear it open, and spit the piece of foil at him.

That's for pissing me off.

"Always so prepared?" I ask, reaching down and slipping the condom over his length.

"You've set the precedence for fucking in dressing rooms," he retorts, running his teeth over my collarbone.