Some of the girls laughed, while another gasped. One girl gave him the middle finger. A second rolled her eyes, but none of them left.

“I said hopefully, ladies. Hopefully.” He pointed to Luke, Braden, and me. “These are good people, my future people.” Lifting his hand, he crossed his fingers. “Here’s to hoping, anyway.”

Braden and Luke were grinning. At the sight of the relaxed amusement on Luke’s face, I was startled for a moment. My body warmed at the sight, and the corners of my own mouth curved up in response. Because he smiled, I wanted to smile. Then he glanced to me, and the smile faded. So did mine. I was zapped by the abrupt change.

He leaned forward, murmured something to Braden, and left.

I watched him go and felt the kick of rejection against me. It had been like this for a month now. Since talking to him, things had gotten better. A tiny bit. We performed, and once we were on stage, everyone clicked. It shouldn’t have been like that, but that was the one place all four of us didn’t hate each other. It was like all the bullshit had vanished, and we were back in the beginning. Emerson was easygoing. Braden was…still Braden. Luke was my best friend again, and I loved everybody. As soon as we were done, though, the same tension immediately returned. Awkward silence was the norm now, as we set up before our gigs and as we tore down afterward. There was no gig planned for this weekend, and a part of me had looked forward to a weekend of working at Rowdy’s and not feeling chewed up inside and out, just by being around Emerson and Luke.

I hadn’t known about the party until Braden mentioned it earlier. And watching Luke walk away, for what felt like the hundredth time this month, I had enough. I stormed after him without thinking.

I bumped into two of the girls at the same time, pushing them back.

“Hey,” one girl cried out.

The other hissed under her breath, “Bitch.”

I skewered both of them with a look.

They wanted Luke. There were so many girls, always the same, always wanting to end up in bed with him. I wanted to obliterate them, all the time, all at the same time, and it was becoming a different hunger all on its own inside me. I did my best to ignore the feeling as I followed Luke across the road to Rowdy’s. He went inside through the back door and down the basement stairs.

It was raining, but I didn’t feel it.

The bar was louder than normal. Cheers, hollering, and music crashed against my eardrums, along with the smell of smoke and sweat. I gritted my teeth. Good. I wanted to yell, and the basement was a perfect place to get it out.

When I pushed open the last door, after going down the stairs, I didn’t hold back. I didn’t think I was able to anymore. “You can’t keep leaving.”

Luke was behind the bar. He straightened, a bottle of whiskey in one hand. “What?”

“You can’t keep leaving. This is ridiculous.”

“What are you talking about?”

I flung my hand out in the direction of his house. Pointing at the air in a savage motion, I added, “Before. Just now. I came up to the group, and you left.” I missed my friend. “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you. I’m sick of this. It’s been a month of this. If you won’t let me in, then…” my chest was heaving, and I spat out, “let me go!”

Aw, shit. I didn’t mean that. Dread quickly lined the bottom of my stomach. He was going to kick me out, once and for all. It was going to be the end, and I would never get him back. I was startled at the vehemence behind that thought.

My eyebrows bunched together. It had just hit me. I hadn’t joined the band to be in the band. It wasn’t about staying away from Elijah. It wasn’t about making Braden happy. It wasn’t even about me playing the drums again, although now that I got back to it, I didn’t think I could quit again. No. This was all about Luke. Ever since he picked me up. It had taken root in me then, and the yearning for him had dug deep, burrowing so much inside me that I had forgotten he was even there.

I wanted us back. It wasn’t just about sex.

A dark storm was brewing in Luke’s eyes. His knuckles were white as he gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No.” With a deep breath, I raised my chin. “But I want to.”

His eyes widened, and he jerked back from the bar. Then his chest went up and held. “What did you say?”

Screw it. The decision fell into place. Everything lined up perfectly, and I wet my lips. This was the real reason I followed him. I wanted him, any way I could get him. “You heard me. Sex or nothing. I can’t do nothing.” Not anymore.

His chest abruptly fell and rose back up again in a gaping breath. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were dark with the same hunger that was gnawing inside me, but he wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving?

He couldn’t move, a voice whispered in the back of my head to me.

I had left him three years ago. It was my turn to go to him, so I said a small prayer in my mind and started forward. My foot moved out in an unsteady motion. He turned, watching me, as I made the slow progress to him. One step at a time. My knees shook, my palms were sweaty, and my vision blurred as I focused on his face. I took that last step around the bar and stood inches away from him.

Now or never.

Please, don’t reject me, I silently prayed. I wasn’t sure how many rejections a girl could take.

“Luke.” I raised a hand.

His chest was moving up and down at a rapid pace now, and his eyes never left mine. The hunger was there, but he was holding back. My arm began trembling. I forced my fingers to spread out so my palm touched his chest. I felt his strength pulsating underneath my hand. Moving my hand lower, I could feel his heart under my palm, and I closed my eyes.

Please, Luke, I whispered in my head. Please, touch me back.

My forehead rested against his chest. I stood there, feeling him. One touch. I ached for it, and then his hands went to my hips. It was a light touch at first. I felt him take a deep breath at the same time, and then in a nanosecond, everything switched. His hands grasped me hard, lifting me in the air as he crushed me to his chest. I was placed onto the counter, and he was between my legs. Strong. Commanding. Hot. All those sensations blasted me at the same time. His touch was demanding as he gripped me to him.

“Bri.” His tone was hoarse.

I opened my eyes, seeing his burning brightly down into mine. Then I gasped softly. There was something else there, more than just desire. Recognizing it, my pulse raced, but I couldn’t let myself admit what it was. If I did, and if I was wrong, he would shatter me.