The Queen B* Strikes Back (9 page)

“I’d always pictured you as the heavy-metal, emo-screamo type.”

“Screw you.” I tried to walk away again, but he still held on. “Is there a reason why you’re refusing to let go?”

“Yeah.”

When he didn’t elaborate, my frustration inched closer to fury. “Then what is it?”

“I just wanted to hang with you.”

“Didn’t you bring any of your posse with you?”

He shook his head. “Did you?”

I snorted with laughter. “Morgan breaks out in hives when it comes to music like this, and Richard won’t go near anything that doesn’t have a techno beat.”

“Good.” He shifted his grip as he wrapped his arm around my back, pinning my arm in the process and forcing me closer to him. “Then it’s just the two of us. No need to worry about what our friends would say. No need to put on any acts for the public.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but none of my arguments came out. Not that it mattered since he’d pretty much struck them down before I could make them.

“What do you say to enjoying this concert together?”

My body was smashed against his, toes to chest, and only a few inches separated our faces. The last time we’d been this close, he’d reminded me that friends don’t kiss. It was a lesson I wouldn’t forget. “Are you trying to turn this into some sort of date?”

“If you want to call it that.” He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. “Or we can just be two friends who are enjoying a concert together.”

Every time he reminded me that we were just friends, it grated on an already raw part of my soul. Now I understood why guys hated the “let’s be friends” line so much. The thoughts that were racing through my mind at the moment were anything but friendly. I was torn between dragging him to a corner to make out versus shoving him away and doing my best to avoid his company all night.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I asked.

He grinned. “You could always change your mind.”

Before I could say I couldn’t, the lights went out in the club, and a lone spotlight zoomed in on the center of the stage. The crowd hushed as the strumming of a single acoustic guitar came from the speakers. I turned around as the singer we’d all been waiting for stepped out onto the stage and launched into one of his best-known songs.

I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to my happy place. I’d only been to Hawaii once, but the song transported me back to that beach on Maui where I’d relaxed in the sun. Only now, the warmth penetrating my skin came from the guy standing behind me, his hand on my hip as our bodies swayed in time with the music. I may not have been on the beach, but the sensations were still the same. I felt calm, at peace, happy.

And I knew it had as much to do with the company as it did the music.

We’d finished off our water about halfway through the concert, and once Brett had his other hand free, he circled my waist with both hands and locked me in his embrace. One hand worked its way under my tank top, and the heat from his palm against my bare stomach stirred up a whole new level of awareness inside me. I should be pushing him away, not wanting him to keep going higher—up to my bra, my breasts. But he kept it there for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. It was almost a possessive hold rather than an attempt to feel me up, which only added to my confusion.

My thoughts drifted from the music to my unexpected company, and I started to overanalyze the situation. Brett and I had more in common than I’d first realized. He also had no problem showing the people there that I was with him. But what would happen if he did the same when we were at school? Would Summer extract revenge? And if so, how would it compare to what she’d already done? Would she drag Brett down with me?

And as much as I fought to resist him, I was falling even harder for Brett. My head was still screaming
Danger!
but the rest of me was too far under his spell to care. Brett was like sweet wine or chocolate. Too much could be a bad thing, but a little indulgence here and there was near heaven. And tonight, I could allow myself this brief indulgence.

Brett lowered his mouth to my ear and whispered the lyrics of the current song in my ear, interrupting my thoughts. When he got to the part about making banana pancakes, my heart melted just a little more. Of course, he’d reminded me of the weekend and how I was the only person he’d ever made pancakes for outside of his family. I slid my hands over his and lost myself in the moment.

He pressed his lips against my temple in a soft kiss. I glided one hand up his arm and reached behind me to his neck while I listened to the lyrics of the next song. I’d always liked this song, but for some reason, it resonated with me louder than it ever had before. If Brett and I came out as a couple, it would turn everything upside down, but moments like this proved it wasn’t impossible for us to be together. I didn’t want this feeling I had being with him to go away. And when the singer got to the end of the song, the last few lines repeated the same question about how things were supposed to be.

Even after the last chords faded and the audience erupted into applause, the question echoed in my mind. I had never come close to having a boyfriend, much less experiencing the complicated emotions Brett stirred up inside me.

I needed to know.

I turned around and faced him. Much to my surprise, I watched the same complicated confusion play out on his face as he looked down at me. At least I wasn’t the only one confounded by teenage hormones and this crazy attraction that neither of us could deny.

“Lexi?” His voice was strained and raw, and I could barely hear him over the crowd, but the question came in loud and clear.

He was waiting for my permission before he kissed me.

And I nodded.

I’d barely had a chance to close my eyes before his lips were on mine. He started out soft and tentative, as though he expected me to go premenstrual and slap him.

I pulled him closer and let him know in no uncertain terms that I wanted more.

His laughter vibrated from his chest into mine, and he deepened the kiss.

Everything around us seemed to stop and fade away. I was fully encased in the world Brett created with his lips, his mouth, his arms. My heart pounded in my ears, and I was almost afraid to breathe because it might ruin the moment to gasp in life-sustaining air. I wanted to inhale him—his smell, his taste, his warmth. They all became part of the wonder and excitement and frustrating intoxication that was Brett, and I couldn’t get enough.

I tightened my hold on him as my knees turned to Jell-O. His arm squeezed around my waist, pulling me against him until I had no idea where I ended and he began. We were locked at the lips, and our bodies merged together with such perfection that the silly romantic notion that Brett was made just for me crept into my mind.

Yeah, I was in way over my head, but at the moment, I had no intention of fighting it.

I had no idea how long the kiss lasted or how much of a spectacle we were making on the center of the dance floor, but the steamy bubble around us suddenly burst when some disgruntled asshole shoved Brett and muttered something about us getting a room.

Our lips parted, and I had to blink several times to get my bearings. I was clearly drunk on Brett’s kisses, but at least one positive came out of this encounter. Unlike our first kiss, I’d managed to keep my shirt on.

However, it was just barely on. Brett’s hands were all the way up to the back of my bra, and I was pretty sure he would’ve succeeded in removing it if we’d continued for much longer. As for me, I had one hand plastered against the back of his neck and the other shoved into the back pocket of his jeans where I had a brazen hold on his firm ass.

Yeah, not my finest moment.

And yet, even though I’d been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar (or in this case, Brett’s pants), I made no effort to remove it. It was the furthest I’d ever gone with a guy, and I was glad it was with someone like him.

Brett grinned at me and moved one hand to mirror mine.

I jumped from the squeeze, but as the initial shock wore off, I kind of liked his hand on my posterior. It carried the same possessiveness he’d demonstrated all night, and if he was trying to make a claim on me, I’d allow it.

At least for tonight. Once school started in the morning, I’d have to go back to enforcing the “just friends” stance for both our sakes.

As my gaze swept out past him, I realized the show was over, and the lights were up. Everyone could see us like this. My cheeks flamed, and I tried to back away.

“Don’t,” he murmured, doubling the strength of the tangled arms he’d secured around me.

“But it’s time to go home. Besides, we have school tomorrow.”

His mouth formed a thin line of challenge, but he released me. “Fine.”

Before I could stop myself, I’d threaded my fingers through his. I knew I needed to go, but I wasn’t ready for the magic of the evening to end. I didn’t trust my tongue to express what the rest of me was trying to sort out, so I let my actions do it for me. I looked into his eyes and smiled.

The corners of his mouth rose in response. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your car. This area can be rough at this time of night.”

We wandered through the streets of SoDo, hand in hand, to where I’d parked near Safeco Field, but when we reached my little Prius, Brett refused to let go.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, swinging our arms until I wasn’t sure if he wanted to dance or pull me into a game of “London Bridge.”

I stiffened my arm to halt the motion, but my voice was soft as I replied, “I did, too. You know, all things considered.”

He came closer. “Meaning?”

“You certainly know how to take a laid-back event and…”
Ruin it. Mess it up. Uncover one of those secrets I’ve hidden from the world.

He kept coming closer until we touched. He ran his thumb along my lower lip. “And what?”

I couldn’t hold back the shiver that cascaded down my spine. My breath shook, and my hands trembled. My answer tumbled out in a rush. “Make it better.”

“Same here.” He leaned in and kissed me one more time. Unlike at the club, he seemed to make an effort to stay in control, to keep the kiss at the good-night level rather than the let’s-get-it-on level. He pulled back a few inches and combed his fingers through my messy curls. “We should do this again.”

My pulse quickened. He wanted to go out with me, to dance and kiss under the stars and oh my God, I wasn’t ready for this. I immediately went into defense mode. “Well, I don’t think he’ll be back to Seattle for at least a few months—”

“I’m not talking about a concert. I’m talking about a date.”

“This wasn’t a date.”

“No, of course not. It was just two friends enjoying a concert together,” he repeated, his dark eyes teasing me as much as the tone of his voice, “and ending with some hot and heavy kissing.”

“I’d hardly call that hot and heavy,” I replied, trying to make light of what had been the hottest “date” I’d ever been on.

“You were the one with your hands in my pants.”

Of course he’d throw that back at me. I now wished I’d gotten my fake ID to say I was twenty-one so I could blame my behavior tonight on too much alcohol. I wiggled free from him, but he braced his arms on either side of me and captured me between him and my car.

“It doesn’t have to end tonight, you know,” he said.

My throat tightened until it was hard to swallow. “You know why I can’t. Your friends will give you hell if we went out.”

Not to mention, I’d risk getting hurt if I let him get too close. I’d built that hard shell around me for a reason.

“And I’m determined to prove you wrong.”

His breath bathed my ear, and I lost all will to fight him. A whimper escaped my lips. He’d discovered how to push all my buttons, to get under my skin and past my defenses.

“Think about it.” He pushed off my car and walked away without looking back. He’d thrown down the gauntlet, and he left it up to me to accept the challenge.

I got in my car and locked the doors before I lost my mind and chased after him. Or worse, pulled him into the cramped backseat and did something really stupid. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the night. I replayed every little detail on my drive over the lake back to the Eastside suburbs. The smell of his skin. The way he varied the pressure of his kisses from feather light to firm. The fact that he’d held on to me in one form or another from the moment we ran into each other until we got to my car. The soft way he sang the song to me and how each lyric seemed to apply to us.

If I’d been looking for a sign from some divine providence, this evening would be it.

Unfortunately, I was too stubborn even for a higher power’s intervention. That didn’t mean, however, that a few more cracks hadn’t formed in my tough outer shell.

And I had a feeling Brett wouldn’t let up until it was completely demolished.

Chapter Eight

I froze the moment Brett stepped into the classroom. Our eyes locked, and he gave me a cocky grin.

Damn him!

It was fourth period, and just as he’d done for the last two weeks, he took the seat next to me.