“I’m not sulking.” Aiden’s voice is gruffer than his expression.
“Oh, please. You’ve been sulking since Carly stepped foot in California.”
Aiden grunts and looks out at the pool.
“And you.” Linc turns his eyes on me. “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but you and Felicity need to sort our your shit before it implodes.”
My spin stiffens. “Felicity and I are just fine.”
“Oh, really? ‘Cause last I saw, you two aren’t even friends, let alone back together. How long do you think that’s going to work, huh?”
“Stay out of it, Linc,” I warn lowly.
“I’d love to, but this affects us all — if you two don’t find some common ground,fast, things are going to fall apart before we make it halfway through this tour.”
“Did you have a problem with our performance last night?” I growl. “Because I’m pretty certain it was the best damn show we’ve ever played.”
“That may be true. But only because you were running on pure anger the whole time you sang. Once that rage runs its course… once the fire between you burns out… what’s left? What’s keeping your music grounded? What’s giving you the emotional drive to convince the crowds you’re a cohesive act? What’s keeping the two of you togetherat all, besides a signature on a contract?”
His words hit me harder than anticipated.
What’s keeping us together?
It used to be late night lyric sessions, writing under the stars with crappy guitars. It used to be bare limbs in the moonlight, our gasps and moans making melodies in the air that needed no accompaniment. It used to be a hell of a lot of things that are no longer relevant.
What’s left to hold on to?
The silence drags on as I consider his words. Even Aiden looks worried as he stares across the table at me.
“Figure it out,” Linc says softly, eyes on mine. “Make it right with her. Bury the hatchet, before we’re all up shit’s creek without a paddle.”
* * *
We’re waitingfor the check when we spot them walk into the pool area, dressed in torturously tiny string bikinis. Carly’s wearing red, Felicity yellow. My eyes drag along her body inch by inch, taking in the sight of all that pale, porcelain skin under the scorching sun overhead. It’s bad enough she’s nearly naked. When I see her dark hair is pulled back in a thick braid, I lose it altogether. I’m instantly hard, flooded by memories.
My fingers sinking into silky depths in a dark alley outside a bar, my self-restraint unraveling with every strand that falls free around her face.
My hand wrapped around that braid, holding it like a leash as I drive into her from behind with relentless thrusts.
My name on her lips, her cries the most beautiful symphony I’ve ever heard.
Fuck.
I shift in my seat, but it’s no use. My erection is harder than steel, and it’s not going anywhere on its own. Every day I spent without her, living like a celibate monk in Hawaii, was torture. But these past few weeks have been a whole new kind of hell. I am a walking case of blue-balls, hornier than a high school freshman, set off by her most innocent actions.
The way she gnaws her bottom lip when she’s nervous.
The way she walks, hips swinging with natural grace.
The unexpected laugh that bubbles up from her throat.
The grip of her fine-boned hand on the microphone shaft.
Two years is far too long to go without tasting her, without touching her skin or claiming her mouth or hearing her scream my name.
“You should see the looks on your faces, right now.” Linc laughs like he’s having the best day of his life.
I look up and see Aiden wearing a tortured expression that mirrors my own, his eyes on the blonde in the red bikini currently applying lotion to Felicity’s back.