Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3) (7 page)

She gave me a considering look, mulling me over. “There’s nothing like family. You’re luckier than most.”

“Yes.”

She let out a sigh. “The truth is we’re selective about who comes in to work with our kids, but I like your story—and your sincerity. I also think the kids would love to hear you speak to them—maybe play a song. We’ve had a few musicians come in for little concerts, mostly classical, so you’d be quite the treat.”

“I’d be honored.” An idea struck. “Maybe I could teach some classes on how to play the guitar—kinda like my dad taught me. Sorry if I’m being presumptuous, I’m not even a real teacher, but I think I’d be good.” I leaned forward and smiled broadly. “I do have a sparkling personality, Mrs. Smythe.”

She let out a laugh and blushed. Score.

I settled back. “Or, if you just need a volunteer to work the lunch line one day or clean the hallways, I’d be proud to do whatever you need.” Truth.

She tapped her fingers on the desk. “Just so you know, we don’t cater to the media here. No reporters are allowed inside our facility and we don’t link our names with celebrities. Whatever work you do here will be confidential.”

I nodded. I got what she was saying. “I don’t have an ulterior motive for this. I can assure you, this isn’t about me putting on a show or getting attention. This is for me alone. I could have been one of those kids.”

She seemed to come to a decision about me and stood. “Great. I’ll give our calendar a look and see where we can fit you in. No doubt, you’re going to cause quite a stir here. I’ll call you and let you know.”

We shook hands and for the first time in a long time, maybe since I’d left Dallas behind all those years ago, I felt like I was
home
. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what stirred my heart—maybe it was holding Violin Girl’s hand or maybe it was knowing that I was doing something worthwhile that wasn’t about
me
.

Whatever it was, it felt damn good.

A FEW DAYS later, I woke up at one in the morning.

Violin Girl was on my mind. Constantly. She hadn’t played for me since the ice cream fiasco, and frustration rode me. I’d spent three wasted nights out on the patio waiting for her to appear. Spider had even tried to get me to go clubbing with him and Mila, but I’d stayed home. Blair had insisted I take her to dinner, but I’d made up an excuse about working on some music. I was obsessed with hearing her play. Seeing her.

I thought back to the ice cream shop. There was no doubt Violin Girl had been angry with me when she stomped out. The question was—why? Was it because she was attracted to me and was jealous of Blair? Like me, did she feel the current between us—as if some invisible, electric wire connected us? I shoved a hand through my hair.

Did I want
her
or her music? I didn’t know.

The sound of music caught my ears, and I immediately shot out of bed and headed for the window and pulled back the curtains. I opened the window. Shit. Had she been playing late at night so I wouldn’t see her?

I picked up the binoculars from my nightstand and put them to my face.

What I saw made me groan.

Bathed in moonlight, she stood with her violin in hand. Her red robe swished around her body as she manipulated the strings with her bow. Staccato yet delicate notes reached my ears, the sound heartbreakingly beautiful as if an ethereal creature was whispering in my ear. Inhaling sharply, I strained forward, recognizing Verve’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony”, one of my all-time favorite songs. Her music captured me, wrapped me up, and I stood there wishing she were in front of me, wishing I could just touch her.

She angled her body to face my house, the small part in her robe teasing me. Her pale skin gleamed, the soft rise of her breasts visible. I immediately took a step back from the window.
Dammit.
I’d been deluding myself. This may have started out as music, but I realized it was so much more. Cloaked in her dark sounds, she was everything I never knew I wanted, but I didn’t like how it made me feel.

Out of control. Yearning for something that wasn’t safe.

Yet, as if my feet had a life of their own, they took me back to the window where I watched her end the piece with a long slow note.

She took her bow.

She flourished her hands.

I held my breath, waiting to see what was next.

She didn’t tease me. She threw her shoulders back and dropped the robe, letting it pool at her feet as blood rushed through my veins. Like a beautiful, life-sized alabaster statue, she was fucking mesmerizing. My eyes went over every inch of her skin, imagining the cool air hitting her nipples, imagining that she said my name, even though she didn’t even know it.

I clutched the binoculars so tight I was afraid they’d snap in two.

Naked.

Without boundaries. Without shame.

With my necklace on.

Beautiful. Defiant.

She’d
wanted
me to see her. And part of me thrilled at this little game we played.

Then she raised her head and stared across the shrubs, straight into the darkness where I waited.

She’d set out to torture me. Her breasts looked heavy as she cupped them, her fingers drifting over her tits. She tossed her head back and in my head, she moaned, imagining me with my fingers between her legs, entering her, teasing her. Lust hammered into me at the image, and I growled in my throat, hard, ready for her. I shoved my hands in my underwear and fisted my cock, but the action was cold. Empty. I wanted nothing but the kind of release that came from driving into her.

That’s it
. Enough.

I tossed down the binoculars and grabbed my jeans and slid them on, dashing out of the room without a shirt, although I did put my feet in flip-flops.

I ran out the back patio door and made it halfway to her house before it hit me.

What made me think she wanted to see me?

Better yet
, what was I going to do with her after I coaxed her into my bed?
There’d be a fallout because she was my neighbor; there’d be no walking away from her the next day, and the scary part was I didn’t know if I’d want to.

Even though being with her might be the end of
me
.

I came to a stop, indecision riding me as I battled myself. Images of her flitted through my head, the arch of her neck, the curve of her waist, the way her hands had moved over her body—

But she was a fantasy. She could practically be in another dimension for all it mattered. Sure I wanted to have the soulmate kind of love that Leo and Nora had—that was part of the reason I wanted a real home—but my dreams came first. Not this need for a girl.

With a groan and a few choice curse words, I spun around and headed back to the house.

I came to a surprised halt when I found Spider and Mila sitting out on lounge chairs, dressed in swimming clothes. I guess they’d come out after I left.

“Kinda late for a swim, isn’t it?” I snapped.

They both startled, eyes big as I strode over and plopped down next to them. Monster immediately jumped up to lay on my chest. I scratched her on the head and sighed heavily. Maybe I needed to jump in the water. Cool off my libido.

“Never too late to hang with friends,” Mila said in a cheery tone, eyeing me warily.

Spider just shrugged at me and set down his Jack and Coke, his eyes glued to the pink one-piece swimsuit Mila was sporting.

Whoa. I sat up straighter. It’s like this. Mila’s a straight-as-an-arrow-never-said-the-word-fuck kind of girl. She was not my style—and definitely not Spider’s. She’s our employee and friend, and we’d agreed a long time ago that she was off limits. In fact, Nora had promised she’d kick me in the nuts if Mila got her heart broken out here.

So why was Spider picking her up and tossing her in the pool with his hands all over her ass? She certainly seemed to enjoy it, shrieking and squirming with her arms wrapped around his neck.

My eyes darted between the two of them.
Were they—?
Nah. That was impossible. Because
if
he was messing with her—I’d fucking kill him, and he knew it.

They continued to frolic like two school kids, and I got antsy. I needed to get out of here. Get a breather. “Wanna go for a walk, baby girl?” I cooed at Monster, who’d been nipping at my fingers for attention. She gave me a doggy grin and yipped a yes.

“She never makes over me like that, and she’s
my
pet,” Spider called from the pool.

I grunted. Spider
had
bought her from a roadie a few years ago, but I’m the one who ended up taking care of her. I fed her, walked her, took her to the puppy salon. Hell, I’d even taken her to a movie premiere once. “You’re my baby, aren’t you? The only girl I need,” I cooed to her as she licked my hand.

Spider climbed out, his lean body dripping water as he walked over to grab a towel. I flicked my eyes at Mila, who was still swimming. “Tell me you didn’t mess with Mila.” I kept my voice low.

He froze. “Sod off.”

I stiffened. “Fuck you. She’s too young—”

“Twenty-three, same as us.”

I scowled. “I feel responsible for her. Remember the drummer she met in Austin that screwed her over? Took her months to recover from catching him with another chick. Don’t be part of the problem, man.”

He settled back on the lounger and reached for his drink. “Nothing’s going on between us.”

“Dude. It’s nearly two in the morning. Nothing good happens late.”

He lit a cig. “She’s here because her apartment’s being painted. The fumes were making her sick. I would have told you, but you were already in the bed.”

If that was the whole story, then why did he keep looking at her like she was a slice of his favorite pie?

I exhaled and stood up, ready for my walk. “All I’m saying is
if
you touch her—well, then you gotta marry her or some shit.”

He eyed me carefully, a hard glint in his gaze. “I don’t see why you’d care. You had your chance with her and didn’t take it. Do you regret it? Do you want her now?”

I groaned. “I also used to wear loafers and button-downs. Things change, but she will always be one of my dearest friends. And that means protecting her from assholes who just want to get in her pants.”

He blew out a trail of smoke. “Like I said: sod off.”

I snapped at his nonchalance. “Don’t play with her. She deserves better.”

He jerked up and glared at me with clenched fists, a red flush on his cheeks. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

My shoulders squared. Bigger and bulkier than him, I didn’t doubt that I could kick his ass, but he also had the wiry thing going for him. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but take a good look at yourself. You drink too much, get in fights, and use girls. I don’t want Mila part of that. The truth is … you aren’t over Dovey.” Dovey was his best friend at Briarcrest Academy, the chick he’d loved desperately, only she’d chosen Cuba Hudson—the rich football player—over him.

I muttered, “Look, you brought up Emma and the reunion last week, but you’re going to have to face Dovey and Cuba when we go back. They’re going to be all over each other. Are you ready for that?”

He narrowed his eyes.

I nodded. “You’re in no shape to date Mila.”

His chest heaved, the veins in his neck causing his black widow tattoo to bulge. “You think I’m worthless. Just like everyone else.”

Pain sliced through me at the hurt in his voice, and I immediately deflated. “God, no. Never. You’re my number one. Me and you, we’re like G-strings and strippers, beer and pretzels. Hell, you’re the one who thought of us wearing the mink coats on stage. Just—she’s not like the girls on the road. She’s—”

“What’s going on?” Mila said, coming up next to us as she rubbed a towel over her face. Her eyes went from me to Spider. “Are you two arguing?”

We gave her nothing but silence. Except for Monster. Known to be spastic, she barked at Mila and then bolted across the yard—headed straight for Violin Girl’s property.

Dammit!
“Come back!” I yelled as she disappeared. I sprinted after her, dodging the shrubs and evergreen trees that separated our properties. I stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle but kept going. Breathing hard and near limping, I came to an abrupt halt when I reached Violin Girl’s patio area. Shock ran through me. I was exactly where I didn’t need to be. Then, Monster sent me a wild-eyed look from the edge of the pool and promptly took a flying leap into the water.

Fuck.

Her head kept going under and popping back up. She was tiny—too tiny to even get out if she got to the edge. I stripped my jeans off and dove in, reaching her just as she sank. I dove under, grabbed her and backstroked to the edge of the pool. I set her down on the concrete where she immediately coughed up water, her little body vibrating. Using my arms, I leveraged myself out of the pool and picked her up. She licked me and I let out a sigh of relief. “Dammit, Monster, you scared the shit out of me.”

Feeling eyes on me, I turned to face the owner of the house.

She stood on her upstairs balcony, wide eyes staring as water dripped down my chest, the imprint of my male anatomy obvious from my tight black boxers. Her pool was heated—
halleluiah
—and my manhood stood firm. At least I wouldn’t have to hold Monster in front of my crotch to hide my frozen balls.