Not Just Another Romance Novel (20 page)

“I better get back to my boys. You’ll be here?” He motioned to my stool.

I motioned to my crutches. “Not getting too far with those.”

He chuckled and leaned in for another soft kiss, and then he made his way through the crowd, getting stopped every few feet by his adoring fans.

I sighed as I watched his cute butt walk away.

“He really likes you,” Austin said. I glanced over at Shannon, still engrossed in her conversation with stool-guy.

I couldn’t help my grin.

“Have you told him about the project?”

I shook my head.

“Do you think you should?”

I shrugged. “I’ll tell him eventually. I’m not trying to be deceptive, but I didn’t expect this to develop into anything.”

“But it has?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I think it has.”

Austin grinned, and then the bartender interrupted our conversation to take our drink order. Not too much longer after that, MFB took the stage, and then it was much too loud for conversation.

As usual, Dax was epic up on the stage. He was really in his element, and just watching him fascinated me. I couldn’t stop staring at his hips as they swayed to each song’s beat. He wasn’t exactly dancing, but he had this perfect rhythm that moved his body.

I could only imagine what that would be like in bed.

I pictured his body without the shirt. With a stab of envy, I wondered how many of the screaming women in this bar had been lucky enough to see what he kept hidden under that shirt. I wondered if he ever took it off while he was on stage or if I’d gotten a private show the few times he’d taken it off around me.

Austin had mentioned that Dax had been fairly promiscuous since his ex had ended things, and I was curious what, exactly, that meant. I wasn’t sure if that conversation that should happen before or after the first time I slept with him. My logical side told me before, but everything else in my brain knew I’d get too overheated in the moment with him to really care about his past. I’d have to get past the jealousy if we were going to pursue an actual relationship instead of…whatever we were pursuing.

The bar started clearing out as soon as the show ended. I thought about heading back behind the bar, but I’d learned my lesson the last time. I didn’t want to see Dax back there with his fans. It had—surprisingly—hurt a little too much the last time. Besides, I had a hard time getting around on my crutches.

A table opened up, and Austin grabbed it. Shannon and stool-guy went back to their conversation. I wondered if they’d been talking all through the show, but I’d been too spellbound by Dax to notice. As I stood to join Austin, I noticed that stool-guy stood a little closer to Shannon than he’d been before the show. She exhibited all of her usual flirty behavior: flipping her hair wildly, finding reasons to touch him, expressive eye contact. I wondered how often she headed home with a guy she hardly knew. It would be an interesting extract to include in my research project.

I was almost at the bottom of my third glass of wine as Austin and I laughed about Shannon’s behavior when Dax walked up.

He slid into the booth next to me and tossed a casual arm around my shoulders. I looked over at him as he glanced at my drink. “You still on the meds?”

I nodded, and he gave me one of those scolding looks that told me I’d been a bad girl. But instead of feeling like I was in trouble, I just heated over at the look of pure sex he was giving me.

Good God, I wanted him to look at me like that when we were both naked.

I glanced away from him before I told him to take me right there in the booth in front of Austin.

“Great show, man,” Austin praised.

Dax grinned. “Thanks.”

“Seemed like something was different tonight. Even better than usual. New guitar?” Austin guessed.

Dax shook his head and furrowed his brow. “Nothing new.”

Austin’s eyes darted over to me. “Well, one thing’s new.”

Dax looked down at me, too. A small smile of surprise tipped his lips. “I guess I’m a little happier than I’ve been the last few months.”

“It came through your voice.” Austin would know. He’d known the guys in the band longer than just about everyone else crowding the bar.

I blushed like crazy. Austin was insane to imply Dax sounded better just because of me. But I couldn’t help the feeling of bliss that bubbled up inside of me at the thought.

A gorgeous, thin blonde girl wearing a really tight dress approached our table. “Dax, that was amazing,” she breathed, her voice a gorgeous rasp.

As I looked at her, I thought about how much better suited she was for him than I was. I hated girls who lacked self-confidence in the books I read, but she was Dax’s female counterpart in the looks department. I had self-confidence, and I knew I was worthy of someone like Dax, but if I stood side-by-side with this girl, I wouldn’t compare.

Dax looked uncomfortable as he looked anywhere but the blonde girl standing beside him. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You going out tonight?” she asked.

He looked over at me. “No,” he said, his eyes never leaving me.

She sighed. “Tomorrow?”

Something seemed to click in his head when she asked that question, and Dax grinned wickedly at me. “Definitely not tomorrow.”

I grinned back, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

Blonde bombshell wasn’t leaving, though.

“Sorry, Britt.” He spoke to her, but he looked at me. “I don’t think I’ll be going out for a while.”

She sighed, and he finally broke his gaze with me to look over at her.

“Don’t tell me your days of manwhoring are over.”

He chuckled. I bristled.

But then I thought about how we hadn’t even slept together yet, how this was all brand new but we liked each other. How he called me during his free time. How he slept over in my bed without any expectation of sex. How he’d stopped the sex on our first night together.

And I knew that, at least for him, whatever we were starting was different from what he was used to. And that knowledge gave me back the confidence that blonde bombshell Britt tried to strip away from me.

He nodded at her as his arm tightened around my shoulder. “Over.”

I was frankly shocked at his admission. He’d just told this beautiful girl he was with one woman now, and that one woman was definitely
me
.

And I had a date lined up with an athlete and feelings for my best friend.

Oh, fuck.

21

“So exactly how drunk and high on painkillers are you?” Dax rasped into my ear.

He’d volunteered to take Austin and me home. Shannon had left with stool-guy, only after Austin gave him the third degree to make sure he wasn’t a serial killer or something.

Dax and I were making out on my couch, and he’d just buried his face in my neck and traced a line up to my ear with his lips when he’d whispered those words.

Did I want him to take me right there on my couch? Definitely.

Would it be sort of wrong? Probably.

But I didn’t think it would be any
less
wrong to have sex with him the next night. After my date with another man.

I pushed him away, but only slightly. Just enough so I could look into those gorgeous blue eyes. “I need to tell you something.”

He looked alarmed.

I took a deep breath, glad I’d had a few glasses of wine. I wasn’t drunk, exactly, but my inhibitions were lowered enough that I knew I could tell him what I’d been holding back.

He sat back on the couch and I took his hand in mine.

“Something you said tonight got me thinking about how whatever this is,” I motioned between the two of us, “well, it’s definitely a thing.”

He nodded, the alarm in his eyes sliding down a level to worry. His brows crinkled in confusion. “What did I say?”

“You told that blonde girl you weren’t planning to go out for a while.”

He shrugged defensively. “That could mean anything, Piper.”

I felt stupid for a half a second, but my psychology background told me he was lashing out as a defense mechanism.

“Dax, tell me what you meant by it,” I said gently. I was trying my hardest to be soothing, to show him through my words that what he’d really meant had been clear to me and I wanted the same thing.

He sighed and looked away from me. “Why don’t you say whatever it is you need to tell me first.”

I nodded. “Okay.” I tightened my grip on his hand. “You know my thesis project?”

His eyes snapped back to mine in surprise. Clearly he hadn’t expected me to shift topics. “Yeah?”

“It’s about more than just stereotypes in novels.”

He looked confused, and I felt bad. I truly had no intentions of deceiving him or misleading him, but I didn’t think I’d get so close to someone fitting the requirements of my list so quickly.

“What is it about?” he asked, his voice thick.

I took a deep breath. “It’s about male leading men and how they create unrealistic expectations for real life relationships.” I said it in a rush.

“Male leading men?” He was still confused where I was going with this, but a sudden light dawned. “Wait a minute. Was I part of your experiment?”

I looked up at him guiltily.

His eyes widened a little, and then he stood. He paced in front of me for a minute, anger starting to permeate.

“What else should I know?” He gritted out his words between a clenched jaw.

He looked so sexy when he was angry.

I closed my eyes for a second, mostly because I wanted to remember how gorgeous he was. I wasn’t sure if I’d just messed everything up and this was the end for us, and I needed to remember how beautiful he looked standing in my living room before he walked out my door.

I stood and hobbled over to him. I did my best to wrap my arms around him. He didn’t wrap his arms around me back, but he didn’t push me away, either.

“Here’s what you need to know, Dax. I made a list of different types of leading men. I was the constant in a social experiment, and the different leading men were the variables. My experiment included dating each of my favorite types of men from the books to see what happened. And you know what? Nothing happened with any of the others. I found the one I want to be with when I met you.”

“So the rock star wins?” He made air quotes around the words “rock star.”

“It’s not a win or lose type of thing.”

“Have you been dating other men the whole time we’ve been seeing each other?”

“I wouldn’t call it
dating
, exactl—”

He cut me off. “Sleeping with?”

I backed away like he’d slapped me. “Dax!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sounding all that sorry.

But if he’d had to ask me that question, I sort of felt like he didn’t know me at all. I sat back down, mostly because I wanted to stay off of my ankle. I hoped he’d follow suit, but he didn’t.

“I didn’t sleep with any of them. I only kissed one of them, and it was before I met you.”

“And how many more are lined up?”

I sighed. Two, if you counted my stepbrother. But I wasn’t about to admit that to Dax as he seethed with anger.

“I have a date tomorrow, but I already know nothing is going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know because I won’t let it. I want to be with you. Just you.”

An image of Scott flashed in my brain, and tears welled in my eyes.

It was a tiny lie, but it was what he needed to hear. I’d get over my crush—or whatever it was—on Scott eventually. I really liked Dax. I wanted to explore a future with him.

“You have no idea what I’ve given up for you in the few weeks I’ve known you. Goddammit, I’m so stupid.”

“No, Dax. You’re not stupid. I am for not being honest about my project from the beginning.”

He glared over at me. “You won’t get an argument from me. I need to get out of here.”

“Wait.” I stood to move toward him, but he held up his hand. I stood rooted in place. “Will you just tell me one thing?”

“What?” His keys were in his hand. He fidgeted with one of the keychains.

“Why are you so mad?”

He walked to my door. He spoke with his hand on the doorknob. “Because I trusted you, and you lied to me. Because I’m an idiot who thought this was going somewhere. Because I finally put my ex behind me when I met you only to find out I’m just a lab rat in your experiment.”

And then he twisted the handle to my doorknob and walked out.

I sat down on my couch in stunned silence before the tears hit. And when they hit, they hit hard.

I cared a lot about Dax. While we hadn’t known each other long, we shared a connection I’d never had so quickly with anybody else. It wasn’t just his good looks or his hard body. We had fun together. We connected. I liked spending time with him, and if we had enough time together, I could see myself falling in love with him.

I could see him in the same way Conrad Greene, CEO of Greene Apps, saw his job.

I already thought about Dax all the time. It was strange how important he’d become in such a short time, but he was part of the landscape of my life as if he’d been there all along.

And the tears fell harder as the guilt consumed me. I’d hurt him. I’d broken his trust.

And I had no idea how to get that back.  

I couldn’t call Shannon because she was with stool-guy. I dialed Austin, but the call went straight to voicemail. My only remaining option was Scott.

I dialed because I needed someone. I dialed because I needed my best friend.

“Piper?” he answered. His voice was groggy, as if I’d woken him.

“Hey,” I managed, my voice laced with the tears that hadn’t stopped falling.

“Are you crying?”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t get out more than one word at a time.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Give me ten minutes, okay?” His voice was gentle. It was Scott. My Scott. My best friend I’d been missing so much.

“Okay,” I said.

“Do you want to stay on the line with me while I get dressed?”

He was being so sweet, and I wasn’t sure I deserved it. But I felt so bad and I was so sad and I just didn’t want to be alone. I just wanted to hear his voice. It was comforting.

“Okay.”

“I’m going to put you on speakerphone for a second, okay?”

“Yeah.”

I waited, and then his voice came through the line again. I could tell I was on speaker.

“Piper?”

“I’m here.”

A a quick moment of awkward silence followed, and then Scott filled it. “When do you, uh, go home for Thanksgiving?” I heard some rustling, like he was getting out of bed and getting dressed.

“Monday.”

“After Stats?”

“Yeah.”

“I decided not to go home to Illinois for the holiday since I’m going for Christmas. But Austin invited me to his family’s Thanksgiving, so that should be fun.”

More awkward silence. I hated the awkward silence. I wanted it filled with Scott. His voice, his warmth, his friendship. Maybe more.

And just thinking about that word,
more
, hit me with a fresh wave of tears for what could never be between us.

“Did someone hurt you, Piper?” he asked, his voice quiet but louder in my ear. He’d taken me off of speaker.

“No,” I choked out. “It was me.”

“It couldn’t have been you. You’re too good. You’re sweet and kind. You’re gentle and loving. You’d never hurt anybody, not intentionally.”

“That’s the problem,” I wailed. “It wasn’t intentional.”

I thought I heard him mutter, “Never is,” but I couldn’t have been sure. It wouldn’t have made sense in the context of our conversation.

“What’s your favorite thing to eat on Thanksgiving?” he asked, changing the subject.

I cleared Dax from my mind for a minute to focus on answering his question.

“Um…” I thought about it. “Sweet potatoes.”

“I like stuffing. My mom makes this incredible stuffing from scratch. I’m so disappointed I’m missing it this year.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“It starts with toast and bacon. One of my greatest memories from my childhood was tasting a piece of toast doused in bacon grease on Thanksgiving morning. It was fantastic.”

I made a noise to show I was listening.

“I wonder if Austin’s mom makes the boxed stuff.”

I chuckled. It wasn’t a full laugh, or even a small giggle, but it was a short puff of breath—something other than tears. And it felt good.

“What if she does?” I asked, and then I sniffled.

“Then I’ll just sit there with a smile and eat it because I’m a guest in their home.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

I pictured him shrugging, deflecting my compliment. “I hope she makes green bean casserole, too. I love that stuff.”

“Me too.”

“But you know what’s even better than that?”

“What?” I wiped away a stray tear from my cheek.

“Pumpkin pie.”

“Yuck.” I spared no love for the disgusting texture of pumpkin. It ruined a perfectly good pie in my opinion.

“Yuck?”

“Pumpkin pie is gross.” I sniffled again.

“Are you even American? It’s a staple of Thanksgiving.”

“It’s disgusting.”

Scott laughed the laugh I’d missed so much. More than I’d realized, even. It felt like I didn’t know I’d missed it so much until I’d heard it again. It filled a little bit of the empty ache in my heart.

“Why is it disgusting? It’s pie, for one. That makes it delicious all by itself.”

“I like pie. Pumpkin’s just gross.”

“That’s why you smother it with cool whip.”

“We use the squirt stuff.”

“Reddi-Whip?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re doing it wrong. That’s why you don’t like pumpkin pie. Someday I’ll show you the right way to do it.”

“Okay.” I liked when he talked about a future that included the two of us. Maybe my fight with Dax had to happen for me to rely on my old friend again. Or maybe Dax and I would figure things out. I had to hope he’d forgive me.

“Stop thinking about whatever happened for a minute, Piper.”

I sighed, not realizing we’d been silent for a while. Scott knew me so well. Better than I knew myself sometimes.

“Sorry.”

“You can tell me all about it when I get there. Focus on Thanksgiving food for now.”

“How far away are you?”

I heard a knock at my door, and I stood and hobbled over to open it.

“I’d say pretty close,” Scott said through the phone and in front of me. He grinned. “Want me to stuff your turkey?”

I burst into the hysterical tears where I was crying just at the sight of my friend and laughing at his perfectly timed pick-up line. He pulled me immediately into his arms for comfort.

It felt so nice and warm there.

“Let’s get you off that ankle,” he said gently, and I nodded. He helped me over to the couch, and we both tossed our phones on the coffee table and sat. I wanted to cuddle into his side, but after the past few weeks of weirdness between us, I wasn’t sure if it would be okay.