Deep (Stage Dive 4) - Page 11

Not that I’d be volunteering that analysis for my finals.

Actually, my psych books had been less than helpful in working out exactly what this love thing was about. To be fair, I did learn some fun facts. Turns out a boy rat and a girl rat, both virgins meeting for the first time, can fornicate immediately in a proficient fashion. No messing around working out the mechanics, they’re just into it. But not so with the higher primates like monkeys. They bumble and fumble their way through initial attempts, working out the relationship and requirements. So it was a relief to know it wasn’t just me. Or even just humans. Apes screw up first dates too. And they don’t even have condoms or bra straps to deal with.

Anyhoo, the point is, the books were big on weird facts about animals getting it on but short on the particulars regarding the type of love or lust at first sight that was plaguing my every waking moment—and a good majority of my nonwaking moments too.

Christy’s new roommate, Imelda, glared at me over the edge of her bright blue drink. Lord knows what was in there to make it that color. I’d only moved into Anne’s old apartment two weeks ago. Apparently, however, these two had already bonded to the point of creepy possessiveness.

The bar had been Imelda’s choice.

“Chris says you know the guys from Stage Dive,” she said.

My ex-roommate shifted nervously.

I just shrugged. Photos of Anne and Mal together had done the rounds of the Internet a couple of times. It was pretty much an open secret in Portland these days. Though me talking about my sister’s business didn’t need to happen. Ever. And Christy was well aware of that policy.

“I think it’s bullshit,” the girl continued, standing so close her hot breath hit my ear.

I resisted the urge to recoil. “Think what you like.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t we dance?” Christy suggested, sounding as fake peppy as could be. “Quick, drink up!”

We did as told. Then, all of a sudden, Imelda was all hands up in the air waving them about without a care. She snagged Christy’s hand and started dragging her through the crowd. Christy in turn caught my wrist, towing me along. Alrighty then. Our progression through the throng was not gentle. Elbows and assorted other body bits bumped into me, sending me reeling this way and that. A hand grabbed my ass.

“Hey!” I growled, spinning around. In the dark sea of people surrounding us it could have been anyone. “Asshole.”

When I turned back, Christy and her new BF had disappeared. Strobe lights blinded me. I could barely see for shit. Crowds have always made me nervy, and this place was a crush. It wasn’t a phobia, exactly, just a distinct dislike I’d been working hard on overcoming.

Surely Christy would realize she’d lost me and come back. Surely. Waiting. Still waiting. Some chick trod good and hard on my toe, bringing actual tears to my eyes. I tried to hop on one foot to give the other a rub and almost landed on my butt in the process. Yeah, Christy wasn’t coming back. Furthermore, I might have never loved crowds, but right now I was deep in the land of hate.

God, screw this.

It was ridiculous. I was a hairsbreadth away from being twenty-one and over the whole scene already. Guess I’d just go back to my lonely girl apartment. As nice as it was to have some space, I’d never actually lived on my own before. I wasn’t lonely, exactly, it was just that the absence of other people made for a definite adjustment. Bet Ben and Lena were getting on like a house on fire. How could they not, what with Lena being all funny and gorgeous and Ben being Ben.

Another body in the near-dark knocked into me, sending me staggering sideways. Since when did you need to wear full body armor to be in a bar? Perhaps I should head back to the bar, where we’d been standing before. But surely I was better staying here, where Christy last saw me. I looked back and forth in indecision. Neither option appealed. Hell, being here no longer appealed.

I blinked furiously. Not crying, just … you know, my toe stung.

It might be time to go catch a cab. I’m pretty sure at home I had all of the ingredients required for emergency mood-enhancing nachos. The bonus being not having to share it with anyone. Call me greedy, I don’t care, and bring on the melted cheese, baby.

Suddenly, two huge hands descended upon my shoulders and I was forcibly turned around. Some sort of mountain stood before me. A man mountain.

“Ben!” I cried happily, throwing myself at him (which of course didn’t move the man an inch). His big hot body felt divine, heavenly. I wrapped my arms tight around his waist and clung ever so slightly. “I’m so glad to see you.”

His hands tensed on my shoulders, fingers rubbing. “I told you not to come in here.”

“I know.” I sniffed, then set my chin on his chest and gazed up adoringly at him. “But have you noticed how I actually make my own choices like a real live adult?”

“You don’t say?” He gave me a dour look and tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear. Such a simple, sweet move; it worked for me big-time. Of course, anything involving him touching me would.

“How was your date with Lena?”

No reply.

“That good, huh? Oh well.”

“I can see you’re real cut up about it,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. The pain goes deep. It’s really good to see you.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “Yeah, you too. Still, kinda pissed you came in here, though.”

What a silly statement. I gave him both brows up and Oh really in the eyes. Start out as you mean to go on and all that. Because at no stage would I be answering to the man for where I went and what I did. Trust and respect, etcetera.

He shrugged, unimpressed. “You didn’t like me going out with Lena. I didn’t like you coming here.”

“Both of these things are true,” I said, relenting just a little. “What are we going to do about them, though? That’s the question.”

“Hmm.” He grabbed hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

“I’d like that.”

Without another word he led me through the crowd, clearing the way with his body. In his plain jeans and plaid shirt, no one seemed to recognize him. In Portland, he was just one more bearded, tattooed dude among many. Attached to Ben, no one messed with me. I was neither bumped nor groped, thank god. Ah, togetherness. What a rare and beautiful thing. No wonder Anne was so wacky about Mal if this was how he made her feel. Walking beside Ben, my heart seemed so light I might hit my head on the ceiling.

Tags: Kylie Scott Stage Dive Book Series
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