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Sweet Ache (Driven #7) Page 81
Author: K. Bromberg

I’m not sure if he says the words to me or to reassure himself, so I let the comment settle between us. I shift my body, our limbs still entangled, and I wonder if our hearts are slowly following suit.

Doesn’t he get that he’s so much more than the little boy who made promises and the man who’s trying to keep them? Thousands see it. He holds them all spellbound with his music. Hopefully in time, he will too.

The emotional overload of the day and the satisfaction of sating our desire together pull the ribbons of slumber until they wrap around our bodies, slowly tying us together until we succumb.

Chapter 21

QUINLAN

“Read ’em and weep, boys!” I lay the three aces on the table to the curses of the guys around me.

“Fuck, Hawke! Why’d you bring her?” Rocket asks tossing his cards down as I make a show of pulling all the chips in the pot toward me, playing it up as Hawke throws his head back and laughs. And it’s such a good sound after last night and the state he came to me in and the confessions of his past on his lips that I glance over and hold his eye, my own smile widening.

“Ah, poor sports!” I grumble with a smirk. “Good thing we’re not betting on pink heart tattoos tonight or Hawkin right there just might be getting one!”

Vince howls out in laughter that turns into a coughing fit when Hawkin gives him the evil eye. “What?” Vince says innocently before turning those hazel eyes of his back to me.

Hawkin’s phone rings and breaks up the moment. He furrows his brow before he scoots his chair out to take the call. I watch Hawke’s broad back as he disappears into the darkness of the backyard, then turn back to three beseeching pair of eyes.

“I want to see all of your hearts,” I tell them, pointing to my wrist so they understand what I’m talking about. I inspect them all, Vince’s is the smallest, Giz’s the largest. “What gives, Giz? You like pink or something?”

“The right kind, in the right place I do,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows that causes me to blush.

“He’s just gullible as fuck and will bet on anything,” Vince clarifies, earning the middle finger Gizmo lifts at him.

“So tell me, boys, what’s the last thing you guys bet on?” The three of them fall silent as they glance at one another, and I realize that they think I can’t handle it. “Oh come on, I won’t be offended.”

Vince clears his throat and looks down at his tattooed heart before looking back up. “Last bet was getting a woman into bed within a certain amount of time.” He purses his lips, eyes intense on mine, waiting to see my reaction.

“Well, considering it’s you guys, a rock band with women who’ll spread their legs for you at the drop of a dime, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. Besides, it’s not exactly something easy to prove. Anyone can stand on the opposite side of a closed door and moan, right?”

Rocket abruptly scoots his chair back and excuses himself while Giz leans back, effectively removing himself from the discussion to let Vince and me continue. “You make a good point. That’s why this bet entailed that another member of the band be able to partake to make sure the parameters of the bet were fulfilled.”

“Partake?” I say with a laugh, my mind firing suddenly and an alcohol-fogged memory coming to the forefront. Another night where Vince talked about threesomes. Is this something that’s a norm with the band? Is that what Hawkin’s used to? Is it something I have to do if I even have a chance at being on his long-term playing field?

The idea is definitely a turn-on, no doubt—being with two men at the same time. My imagination toys with the thought momentarily before I remember that Vince’s eyes are scrutinizing my reaction.

“You make a threesome sound so damn sexy,” I tease to dispel the sudden awkwardness I feel because I wonder just what he and Hawkin would be like together. “So who won?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Hawkin asks as he walks up, pulling me from my lascivious thoughts and making me realize what a lucky girl I am to be sitting here right now. And shit, I’ve been with him all damn day—from going out to breakfast to pretending to be tourists and walking hand in hand along Muscle Beach where we people watched and laughed all day long—and the man still makes my heart stutter at his sex appeal and good looks. Because a man can be sexy or good-looking, but when he’s fortunate to possess both attributes and they’re all rolled into one package? This woman’s a goner.

“The last bet you guys made,” I answer. Hawke coughs, choking on the sip he just took before shooting a warning glance over at Vince.

“No worries, bro,” Vince says. “I didn’t spill our secrets. What happens in the band stays in the band.” He taps the neck of his beer against the one in Hawke’s hand. “It’s all good. How ’bout you?” He lifts his chin at the phone Hawkin sets on the table. “Everything okay?”

“Fucking stellar,” he replies. “Hunter needs money.”

“Hawkin, you can’t—”

“Drop it, Vinny,” he snaps, silencing the conversation despite the glances some of the guys angle his way. I can tell he’s upset by something, but at least I have a much better understanding of the dynamic now. “Are we going to play or what?”

The night wears on, hands are dealt, big wins and big losses are had, but I’m enjoying the competitiveness because it’s fun to see Hawkin around the people he’s most comfortable with. He’s definitely the closest to Vince, but the love he feels toward the other two guys is just as apparent. The band has invited me into their inner circle without the begrudgery I’d expected.

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K. Bromberg's Novels
» Sweet Ache (Driven #7)
» Aced (Driven #5)
» Raced (Driven #4)
» Crashed (Driven #3)
» Fueled (Driven #2)
» Driven (Driven #1)
» Hard Beat (Driven #8)