Rock Me Deep - Nora Flite Page 0,24

like frost to a metal pole in the dead of winter.

Was she jealous?

Scarlett's fingers glided down, touching my knee. I clasped her thin wrist before she dared to go further. “Listen.” My voice wasn't even strained; I'd been down this road before. Fighting off hungry fans after a show was old news. “I can't.”

“You can't?” She stiffened, gaze flicking from my face, to my grip, then back.

Letting the waitress go, I leaned in just enough so only she could hear me. “Sorry. I meant I won't.” Grinding the chair back, I got to my feet. “Colt, want to shoot some pool?”

“Fuck yes,” the drummer laughed, nearly falling from his seat. “I'll beat you this time, too!”

"One of these days, maybe." Strolling towards the green-felt table in the room, I couldn't stop myself from looking back. Just one small, scant look.

There were two pairs of eyes watching me; the dark pits of a girl who'd been scorned. And the other...

Lola's deep sapphires were starkly relieved. It sent a thrill to my core, one that was all too soon replaced by tense muscles. I wanted so much to believe she was happy that I'd denied the girl.

No, I told myself, yanking a pool stick off the wall. I could have broken it in my ripple of confused emotions. Stop getting excited over the prospect. You're making up signs that she likes you, when you should be spending your energy resisting the very concept.

Crushing too much chalk onto the tip of the stick, I stared at the back of Lola's head. Sometimes, even if it was the right decision, choosing music over other things made me feel hollow.

I couldn't risk the band over a fucking pair of pretty blue eyes that turned my blood to liquid silver. It was too reckless.

For them.

And for her.

- Chapter Six -

Lola

There was too much alcohol in my blood. But even worse... there was starting to be too much of something else. I didn't have a name for it. I only knew that it flared up when he was close.

When Drezden Halifax got near me, something clawed up from my very center and clutched around my middle. It turned everything into pressure and heat. It made me long for release.

Brenda was giggling, tangled up on my arm and saying something about me looking like my older brother. Nearby, Porter and Colt were having an argument over who had actually won at pool.

With four—or was it five—beers in me, I'd lost track of Drez in the fading hours of the evening. He'd been playing with the other guys, ignoring the wistful stares from the two waitresses each time they entered the room.

At some point, he'd vanished. I was too swept up in my conflicting desires to think about searching for him. Hell, if I found him, who knew what I'd do?

After such a long day, I just wanted to sleep.

“Excuse me,” I said, pulling away from Brenda. The red of her lips reminded me too much of fake, Halloween wax candy.

She let me go, her hand hovering in the air. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Just to get some air.” The migraine that pulsed behind my eyeballs needed more than fresh air, but I'd take that over the stifling backroom of the restaurant.

Brenda frowned, not moving to stop me. “If you need to go out, use that door there.” Pointing, she drew my eyes to an exit in the far corner. It was meant for escaping fires, but it was hot enough in here that it seemed appropriate.

I wondered why we hadn't entered that way. If we'd wanted to avoid the insanity of the fans swarming the place, it would have been logical. Unless everyone wanted that attention. Was that it? It hurt too much to think about. Instead, I gave a brief nod and stumbled out of the heavy door.

The sky was purple and black. It reminded me of Drezden, of the centers of his eyes when he got angry...

Or passionate.

Stop, stop thinking about him like that.

There were no clouds. Overhead, the stars guided me—called to me. Inhaling till my ribs threatened to break, I held my breath. Could I just float up, vanish forever into that void and not have to deal with the insanity growing in my heart?

Closing my eyelids, I endured a memory; Drez, offering me a forkful of food. And me, as I imagined myself from the outside, leaning in to take it like some pathetic dog.

What made me do that?

I couldn't make sense of

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