Then he’d seen Jazz come out of a closet with Nick before a show at the Blue Rhino, and lo and behold, all his reservations had fallen away.
Halfway across the parking lot to the van, a sleek black vintage Mustang pulled up beside him. The passenger window slid down and Cricket leaned across the seat, her lips curved with such pleasure he half believed she was happy to see him.
“Hey there, handsome. I tried your cell. Thought you might be ready for a lift back.”
“Phone’s off.” He scraped a hand over the top of his head, squeezing his palm until the prickle of his short, crisp hair centered his meandering thoughts. All the gel had a purpose. He could’ve cut glass with the spikes on his skull.
“What about the lift? I’m here now.” She waved a plastic baggie, her smile widening. “I even brought a party favor.”
He’d taken two long strides to the window before she let out a tinkling laugh and tucked it out of reach. “Not so fast, handsome. Come with me and we’ll share.”
Share. Yeah, fucking right. Like any good dealer, she never touched the stuff. She just used it as the powdery hook at the end of a very long rod.
Sucking in a breath, he tipped back his head. “I already partied tonight, remember?”
Partied. Talk about ironic. The parties she threw only lasted fifteen to twenty minutes, and the crash hurt like a motherfucker. But God, for that high, for those brief, golden moments where nothing hurt anymore, nothing crowded his brain until he couldn’t think…he would’ve sold his soul.
Maybe he already had.
“I do. But this is premium stuff. I saved it just for you.” She waved the bag between two slickly polished nails, that smile taunting and luring him both. It would be so easy to just go.
Why should he sit in that room with those jerks? He’d thought they were good guys once. Deak was, yeah. But the other two, they only cared about themselves. That was obvious after what they’d pulled with their old record label.
Nick was even worse. He didn’t only want to steal their music and hijack the band, he wanted to take the one thing away from Gray that had kept breath coming in and out of his lungs for years. He’d built a life out of taking care of her, out of righting all the wrongs that people he’d never met had done to her when she’d been too innocent to fight back.
And Brent. Fucking Brent.
He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing hard on the memory of Jazz’s mouth on his. So soft and wet. For that moment, she’d wanted him. Sixty seconds out of his life he would cling to with both hands, despite the promises he’d broke by even touching her.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
For years, he’d waited for the day she saw him as someone other than her protector. Her buddy. Her music partner. He’d given her all the time in the world to make her move, determined not to force her hand by possibly guilting her into a relationship she didn’t want. He knew she loved him, but was it the way for her it was for him? Sure, she’d made what seemed like a few tentative steps in his direction. She just never followed through.
Eventually he’d begun to think she’d slotted him firmly in the big brother zone, with the occasional exploratory side trip into “what if?” That didn’t work for him. He couldn’t be her friend with benefits. He honestly didn’t think he could even casually date her.
After all these years, it was all or nothing.
Now, with the choices he’d made, even if she did want more, even if she could love him the way he loved her, it didn’t matter because he’d ruined everything before they ever had a real chance. He wouldn’t let the drugs touch her, even peripherally. So he couldn’t touch her either.
His promise to keep her safe came before all else.
Gray cleared his throat. Rust filled his airway, gathered on his vocal cords. “So give it to me and get out of here before she sees you.”
“She?” Cricket laughed again, harder-edged this time. “That sweet little thing that was hanging on you at Frenzy? She’s Oblivion’s drummer, isn’t she?” She slipped her tongue in the corner of her mouth. “She also belongs to the group, so I’ve heard.”
He slammed his hand against the car, making her jump. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that. It isn’t that way.”
Images of that night with Nick and Jazz flashed through his mind, stark and bleak like the churning sky. Her undressing, tugging off her bra and baring her breasts. Crawling on Nick’s lap to kiss him, driving her fingers through his hair. Her slipping onto Gray’s lap, facing away from him. Gray helping her to open her legs wider so Nick could get a nice long lick.