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Lick: Stage Dive 1(57)

By:Kylie Scott


I bet it wasn’t. “When do you tour next?”

He shook his head. “There’re none booked. Won’t be until we get this new record down, and that hasn’t been going so well until now.”

“Okay. How does this work? I mean, do you believe what happens on the road, stays on the road?” I asked. The boundaries of our relationship had never really been established. Exactly what did our marriage mean? He wanted us to stick together, but I had school to consider, my job, my life. Maybe the good wives just dumped it all and went with the band. Or maybe wives weren’t even invited. I didn’t have a clue.

“You asking me if I’m planning on cheating on you?”

“I’m asking how we fit into each other’s lives.”

“Right.” He pinched his lips between his thumb and finger. “Well, I think not fucking around on each other would be a good start. Let’s just make that a rule for us, okay? As for the band and stuff, I guess we take it as it comes.”

“Agreed.”

Without a word he stepped back from me, crossing over to the stairwell. “Mal?”

“What?”

“Close the door down there and lock it,” David yelled. “Don’t you come up here under any circumstances. Not till I tell you it’s okay. Understood?”

There was a pause then Mal yelled back. “What if there’s a fire?”

“Burn.”

“Fuck you.” The door downstairs slammed shut.

“Lock it!”

Mal’s reply was muffled but the pissy tone carried just fine. These two were more akin to actual brothers than David and his biological sibling. Jimmy was a jerk and just one of the very good reasons we should never return to LA. Sadly, hiding out in Monterey wasn’t a viable long-term solution.

School, band, family, friends, blah blah blah.

David reached for the back of his T-shirt and dragged it off over his head. “Rule number two, if I take my shirt off you have to take off yours. The shirt-off rule now applies to these sorts of conversations. I know we need to talk about stuff. But there’s no reason we can’t make it easier.”

“This’ll make it easier?” Highly doubtful. All that smooth, hot skin just waiting for my touch and my fingers itching to do so. Keeping my tongue inside my mouth while his flat stomach and six-pack were revealed tested my moral fortitude no end. All that beautiful inked skin on display, driving any attempt at a coherent thought straight out of my mind. Good God, the man had some power over me. But wait up, we were married. Morally, I was obliged to ogle my husband. It would be unnatural and wrong to do otherwise.

“Get it off,” he said, tipping his chin at my offending items of clothing.

The stairwell sat calm and quiet. No signs of life.

“He ain’t coming up here. I promise.” David’s hands gripped the bottom of my T-shirt and carefully pulled it off over my head, rescuing my ponytail when it got caught.

When he reached for my bra I pressed my forearms to my chest, holding it in place. “Why don’t I keep the bra, just in case …”

“It’s against the rules. You really wanna go breaking rules already? That’s not like you.”

“David.”

“Evelyn.” The bra’s band relaxed as he undid the clasp. “I need to see your bare breasts, baby. You have no idea how much I fucking love them. Let it go.”

“Why do you get to make all the rules?”

“I only made that one. Oh, no—two. We have the cheating rule as well.” He tugged at my bra and I eased my grip, letting him take it. No way was I moving my arms though.

“Go on, you make some rules,” he said, running his fingers over my arms, making every little hair stand on end.

“Are you just trying to distract me from the conversation with the no clothes thing?”

“Absolutely not. Now make a rule.”

My hands stayed tucked beneath my chin, arms covering all the essentials, just in case. “No lies. Not about anything.”

“Done.”

I nodded, relieved. We could do this marriage thing. I knew it in my head, my heart. We were going to be okay. “I trust you.”

He stopped, stared. “Thanks. That’s big.”

I waited, but he said no more.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, filling the silence. The minute the words left my lips I wanted them back. If I had to demand his faith and affection, it didn’t mean a damn thing. Worse than that, it did damage. I could feel it, a sudden jagged wound between us. One that I’d made. Of all the stupid times for me to get impatient! I wished it was the middle of winter so I could go stick my head in a snowdrift.