Forbidden Lyrics Page 12

  Brecken.

  Even in my drunken stupor, I can spot his beautiful face anywhere. The minute our eyes connect, he makes a beeline for our table, ignoring every girl wanting to cling to him, either because they recognize him or because he’s hands down the hottest guy in the room.

  “Ladies.” Multiple deep voices surround us. What the– when did they all get here?

  Kade kisses Adrienne’s temple as he helps her stand. “Let’s get you girls home. Think you’ve had enough fun for the night.”

  Quinn and Tatum whine, pleading their cases to their husbands, who both try to suppress their laughs while escorting their drunken wives from the building. Which means, it’s only Brecken and me.

  Out of nowhere, a laugh bubbles to the surface, growing in intensity until I’m practically doubled over and clutching my stomach.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, grabbing my arm to help me out of my seat.

  “This,” I say, waving a hand around the room. “You’re rescuing me after a night out. My, haven’t the tides turned.”

  Brecken smiles, a real, genuine smile. The one that lights me up inside, sending every nerve I have on edge. Nothing else matters when I’m looking at him. Not Myles’ disapproval of our relationship, not the fact that we’re limited by time. The only thing I can see and focus on is the beautiful man in front of me.

  “Come on, drunkie. Let’s get you home.”

  I barely remember leaving the club or getting into the cab of his truck. In fact, the whole ride home is a blur. The only thing I remember is the feel of his hand in mine as I sat as close as I could with my seatbelt on; even being so bold as to lay my head on his shoulder. Did he kiss my head a few times?

  Before I know it, we’re parked in my driveway. He turns the engine off and unbuckles both our seatbelts. “You need Advil and sleep.”

  I scoff. “I’m fine.” Pretty sure that was English.

  “Yeah, sure you are.” He jumps out of the truck to hurry around the front, opening my door and helping me to the ground. His strong arm wraps around my waist, making me feel as light as a feather. I don’t even attempt to find my keys. Instead, I hand him my clutch so he can open the door for us.

  Everything’s a blur as we walk through my tiny house. Lights click on and off before I fall onto my mattress.

  “Let’s get you undressed.”

  I smirk. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

  In the shadows of the room, I barely make out his confused expression. “Really?”

  Sitting up, I’m blessed with a moment of clarity. Brecken stands over me, tossing my shoes to the floor. This man has been my obsession for as long as I can remember. And now he’s here, in my bedroom, taking care of me without question.

  Grabbing his shirt, I tug him toward me and press my lips against his. They’re just as soft as I remember. And he tastes of mint and beer, and something I can only imagine is him.

  When we pull back, he smiles down at me. But the smile fades as my body goes limp and the room turns black.

  I. Hate. Tequila.

  Whoever invented the foul stuff should be drug into the street and shot. Of course, all the vodka I piled on top of it probably didn’t help. Or drinking Tatum’s shots. How many did I have? I lost count after the third or fourth round. But man, last night was a blast.

  The cold floor freezes my bare feet the minute I jump out of bed, eliciting a yelp. I scurry across the hall into the bathroom and examine the remains of my partying. Makeup smeared and crusty, hair in a giant rat’s nest, and mouth dry enough to be mistaken for the Sahara.

  That’s when I notice it. The tank top and shorts. This is not the outfit I wore last night. After brushing the nastiness from my mouth and untangling the mess on my head, I walk back to my room, looking for things that are out of place.

  The ripped jeans I wore are neatly folded up at the foot of my bed. The shoes are together on the floor in front of my closet. My pink shirt and cami are slung over the chair in the corner, not haphazardly, but carefully, like someone didn’t want them to wrinkle.

  Feeling around my shirt, I breathe a sigh of relief when I come in contact with my bra. At least whoever undressed me didn’t take advantage. As far as I know. But who in the hell took great care of my clothes, and apparently me as well?

  I close my eyes and try to remember the details of last night. Dancing, drinks, loud music, blinding lights. Nothing sticks out.

  A clang from my kitchen causes my heart to double its rate. Fear skates over my skin as I inch toward the door.

  The delicious aroma of bacon greets me first, followed by fried potatoes, and lastly, some eggs. Who the fuck is in my kitchen?

  I turn the corner and gasp, looking at the man making himself at home in my house.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Breck says, sliding a hefty dose of eggs onto a plate. My stomach rumbles with excitement as I enter the room and slide into a chair at the table.

  “Morning?” Confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now. “How? Why?”

  Breck chuckles and places a plate in front of me while taking a seat next to me with his own food. “Yes, sleepy-head, it is morning. How what? After last night, I figured you’d need a good, greasy breakfast, so I decided to take it upon myself to make it for you.”

  I don’t move, just keep my hands in my lap as I glance from the plate to Brecken and back again. “I’m confused.”

  He laughs, a soft, joking sound as he grabs my hand and places the fork in it. “Here. You use this and shovel the food into your mouth. That’ll help with your headache and stomach issues.”

  Smartass. “I know how to use a fork.”

  “Kinda doesn’t look that way to me.” He takes a bite and smirks while chewing.

  My stomach rumbles again and I can’t avoid the pain any longer. I stab at the fluffy eggs and hum my enjoyment as I eat. Damn, he’s right. This is exactly what I needed.

  He walks to the fridge to grab the ketchup and when he returns, proceeds to squirt no less than a quarter of the bottle on top of his potatoes.

  “Dude, want some potatoes with your ketchup?”

  “What?” He takes a hefty bite and I’m mesmerized by his jawline as I watch him chew. “I like ketchup.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a condiment, not a food group. Do you know how much sugar and salt is in that stuff?”

  Breck rolls his eyes. “Now you sound like my mom.”

  “Well, someone has to. Good Lord, man. Take it easy. That’s a good way to ruin your body.” I can feel my cheeks flame and do my best to hide my face, putting extra concentration into my food.

  “Ruin my body?” He makes a point to over-exaggerate looking down. Did he just flex a little? Oh my God, he did. Like I can see his abs through his stupid T-shirt that’s hugging his body like it’s second skin. Not that I paid attention to that detail. At all. Or his biceps. Or forearms. Or the lopsided grin on his stupid face that’s sporting a shadow along his jaw.

  Definitely not paying attention to that.

  “It’s okay, you can look. I know I’m hot.”

  Full of himself much? “Careful. I may revisit this lovely meal and that’d be a shame because I’m really enjoying it right now.” Along with the view but he doesn’t need to know that.

  I’m graced with another soft laugh, which makes my stomach flip for a different reason than the alcohol still inside it.

  We sit in enjoyable silence, the only sound the clanking of our forks against our plates. Looks like I was hungrier than I thought because the next time I look down, all the food is gone.

  Brecken takes our empty plates and loads them into the dishwasher, leaving me to sip the cup of coffee he brought over a few minutes ago.

  A flash of a memory inserts itself behind my eyes. Only it can’t be true.

  “How did I get home last night?”

  He stills, back straightening at the sink before resuming his task. “You don’t reme
mber?”

  I shake my head. “Half the night is a blur. The last thing I truly remember is dancing at the club. There’s a flash of the drive home, but it’s all jumbled together. And then nothing.”

  Silence. And not the comfortable kind. I can almost feel a wave of disappointment roll off him as I approach, cradling the mug in my hands to warm away the chill sliding over my skin.

  Tapping his shoulder, he stiffens again and refuses to turn around. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” His answer is short and curt, devoid of any emotion. This isn’t like him at all.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. You can’t pull a fast one over me.” Grabbing his arm, I force him to face me. And just like his voice, there’s no sign of emotion on his face. It’s completely blank. “Did I do something last night?”

  Breck crosses his arms in front of his chest; a defensive stance I know all too well. It’s the position he takes when he’s going up against Myles.

  “You honestly don’t remember?” I shake my head. Damn my stupid brain. Why won’t it work? Something happened and he’s upset about it. What did I do?

  I take a step back, putting some healthy distance between us. “Did I go home with someone?”

  “You could say that,” he says with a scoff.

  All the blood drains from my face. “Was I-did I…” I can’t even finish the sentence as bile rises in my throat.

  Brecken’s at my side instantly, cradling my body against his. “Oh, God, no.” He runs a soothing hand down the back of my head, trying to calm my rattled nerves. Why can’t I remember? “It wasn’t anything like that.”

  “Then why are you so pissed at me?” I push back to get a good look at his face. Worry lines still crease his eyes, though they ease as I run a finger to smooth them out.

  Then, in a blink, his whole demeanor changes. Like flipping a switch. All unease is washed away, revealing the smiling friend I’ve known my whole life. “I’m not pissed at you. Truth is, I drove you home last night.”

  “Oh. That’s good. I’m glad I didn’t go home with a stranger.” If he drove me home, why is he so sad? “Did I do something to upset you?” I widen my eyes. “Oh, shit. Did I puke in your truck?”

  He laughs and brushes a chunk of hair from my face. “No, you didn’t puke at all. I took you inside and brought you to bed.”

  Relief crashes through me. “Thank God I didn’t do anything stupid.” I wrap my arms around my waist, reminding me again of what I’m wearing. “So, who changed my clothes? It couldn’t have been me because if I was that drunk, I wouldn’t have folded everything so neatly.”

  Pink tinges his cheeks. Damn, he’s adorable when he’s embarrassed. “Um, well, you asked me to.”

  Now it’s my turn for heat to coat my cheeks. “I-I did?”

  Breck holds his hands up in defense. “Don’t worry. I did it quickly and kept you covered.”

  It honestly wouldn’t have bothered me if he had taken everything off. Well, not true. I would have rather been awake to enjoy that. Having Brecken stare at my naked and willing body, his hands tracing the lines and contours, maybe even his mouth doing…

  “Lizzie? Did you hear me?”

  I jerk my head back, almost ashamed of the fantasy I just allowed myself to live in. I press my thighs together to quell the sudden ache between them.

  “Oh, sorry. Guess I’m still tired.”

  He grins. “I asked if you were mad.”

  I smile a genuine smile and grab his hand. “Not at all. I’m glad it was you who took me home last night.”

  “Phew,” he says, wiping his brow. “I was afraid you were gonna cut my dick off for taking your clothes off and not remembering.”

  Hands on my stomach, traveling lower, lower, until they reach that sweet spot…

  “Uh, no. I’m just sorry I put you in that position.” Think of something else other than getting naked with Brecken. Baseball. Furry animals. Pizza. “How was the baseball game?”

  For whatever reason, I’m just now piecing together his outfit: a Royals shirt with a giant mustard stain on the front, blue jeans that have a matching stain, and the worst case of hat hair I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “Did you stay over?”

  Breck looks away for a second. “On the couch. After I tucked you in, I waited until you were asleep and not in danger of choking on vomit. And I wanted to be close by to make sure you were really okay. I had to stay.”

  He stayed to help me. No one has ever done that. Any of my exes would have dropped my sorry ass off and left without looking back. Brecken was genuinely concerned for my well-being. Another flutter in my stomach all but propels me into his arms. It’s taking everything I have not to wrap my arms around him and kiss him like I want to. There’s nothing more I want than for him to brand me as his, to take my mouth and own it.

  Rather than act on this instinct, I reach up on my tip-toes and kiss his cheek, sliding ever so slightly down the rough stubble until they meet the corner of his mouth.

  “I’m glad you did.” It’s the boldest statement I’ve ever made to him. Not since that night when I wanted more. The night his kiss ruined me for others.

  Instead of swooping me into his arms, like I had imagined, he takes a step back and pushes me to the side. “You’re welcome.” He looks nervous, like he doesn’t know what to do. “I, uh, should get home and shower before coming back and finishing the last of the flooring. I still smell like a ballpark and you probably want to freshen up too.”

  Is he saying I reek? I’m not about to do the pit test right this second, but I’m sure he’s not wrong. I can only imagine what I smell like up close. No wonder he wants to get away from me as fast as he can.

  “Okay. So, you’ll be back in a bit?” I can’t keep the hopefulness out of my voice. I’d rather say, ‘Hey, use my shower. And while you’re at it, we can conserve water and do it together.’ But judging by his skittishness, that’s not going to fly. He doesn’t feel that way toward me, which is fine. Again, he’s only here for a limited time. No sense in forming an unattainable attachment.

  “Yep, I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He grabs his hat and keys and bolts out the front door.

  Smooth, Lizzie. Real smooth.

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I drag my feet into my bedroom and dig out a pair of yoga pants and off the shoulder sweatshirt. Might as well be comfy if we’re going to spend the day here. And if he’s not going to notice me, it won’t matter that I look like a hobo again.

  As I step into the warm shower, I let the water rinse me clean, washing away the remnants of last night and my awkward encounter this morning with the object of my obsession.

  Why did I ever open YouTube? This was the worst idea I’ve had. Needing a distraction from making an ass of myself in front of Brecken and sobbing like a loon on my couch are two different things.

  I barely hear the door opening as I grab a tissue and run it gently under my red, sore eyes. Each sob wracks my chest, tearing my heart open and bleeding for every happy couple I watch on the screen.

  Worst. Idea. Ever.

  “What’s wrong?” Brecken slides next to me on the couch, concern marring his beautiful features.

  I sniff unladylike and grab another tissue. “Nothing.”

  He eyes me skeptically. “So you’re sobbing on the couch just because?”

  Swinging my gaze from the screen, I force a weak smile. “You’ll laugh.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Well, if you keep avoiding the question, I’m gonna get pissed. What happened in the couple hours since I’ve been gone? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

  Always so protective. “No, nothing like that.” I blow out a quick breath. “I got sucked into watching those videos of soldiers coming home after a deployment and surprising their families.”

  “Okay,” he says, dragging out the word.

  I quirk a brow. “Haven’t you seen them?” He shakes his head, s
till staring at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted a growth on my face. “Here.” I press play on the video currently queued and turn the screen toward him. The music doesn’t help as we watch kid after kid run into their parents’ arms, tears streaming down their faces. Another rogue tear falls from my eyes as the video comes to an end. I turn to Brecken whose eyes are now watery and red-rimmed.

  “Okay, I get it now.” He sniffs, trying to hold onto his man card. “Why are you torturing yourself with this?”

  I shrug and close my laptop. Moment of truth time. Should I pour my feelings out on the table and run the risk of rejection? Once I give them a voice, I can’t take them back. But this game we’re playing is excruciating.

  Now or never. “I guess I wanted to feel something, anything, to forget that there’s no one who feels that way about me.”

  “How so?” Brecken inches closer, our thighs practically touching.

  Cautiously, I meet his gaze. “I don’t think anyone would be that excited if I returned home after being gone that long.”

  Brecken lifts a hand. As if in slow motion, he brings it closer, sweeping a lock of hair away from my face. “Are you kidding?” I shake my head. “Lizzie, you’re a catch. I know for a fact there’s someone out there who would scoop you into their arms and hold on tight, never letting you go.”

  “Yeah?” Doubtful. “I’ve had too many failed relationships to know there’s no one around here like that.”

  “You’re right.” Okay, not the answer I was looking for. “He’s not around here. Not anymore.”

  Now it’s my turn to be confused. “Huh?”

  Without warning, Brecken scoops me up to straddle his lap, pulling me close to his chest. I wrap my hands around his biceps, clinging for dear life as he cradles my body while looking deep into my eyes. Something swirls within their gray depths. Something I haven’t seen in years. Only once, briefly, in a moment of opportunity that we both seized.

  Realization hits me hard, damn near knocking the breath out of my chest.

  “I-I didn’t think you felt that way.” My heart is pounding a rhythm I can barely count. All these years of wondering, coupled with the cat-and-mouse game we’ve been playing over the last couple weeks, finally come to a head. Right here, in this moment, I’ve found what I’ve been hoping for.