Masquerade Page 7

  Since it’s not a weekend, there isn’t a line. Not that we would have to stand in one anyway. It doesn’t mean it’s not busy inside. The music is still loud, drunk people still everywhere, dancing, drinking, and looking for someone to take home.

  It’s already getting old spending my nights here.

  Trevor is behind the bar like always. He never takes a night off. It’s different than it is with his brother, who keeps to himself and only wants to get shit done. Trevor likes to be here because he never shuts up, and when he’s at Lunar, there’s always someone for him to talk to. Like when he let Bee in the Back Room. He’s the type who thinks shit like that is funny, seeing how people react.

  The bar’s crowded when we walk up. Trevor and some other bartender I don’t really know are handing out drinks. Bee’s right by my side as we wait. It takes a few minutes before it clears out a little and we step up. Trevor makes his way right over to us.

  “Corona with a lime?” He winks at Bee.

  “Shot of tequila.” She winks right back.

  “You’re breakin’ my heart, darlin’.”

  “Pfft.” I cross my arms. What a fucking idiot.

  They both ignore me, and she has to yell over the music. “What I drink depends on my mood and what my plans are.” I can’t help but wonder what her response means.

  Trevor looks over at me. “Coors?”

  I nod. When I drink, it’s only ever a beer or two.

  Trevor pours her shot first and then hands me my bottle. We both watch as Bee shakes a little salt on her hand, licks it, downs the shot, and then sucks on a lime.

  “Do that often?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

  “Nope.” Leaning back on my barstool, I take a gulp of my beer. Trevor’s standing in front of us and it’s annoying the fuck out of me. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

  He laughs and holds up his hand. “I got you, man. My bad.” And then he walks down the bar.

  “Idiot,” I mumble.

  “He’s got you, huh?” Bee grins.

  Even though I heard her, I lean close anyway. “What?” My mouth’s close to her ear, which puts her close to mine too.

  She repeats what she said. “Just giving you shit, but somehow I think you know that.”

  “No idea what you’re talking about,” I say, even closer to her than I was before, and then I back away.

  Bee rolls her eyes, but I can see the smirk on her face. We sit there quietly for a few minutes, me drinking my beer while she sways her body to the music. Fucking A, this woman is trying to get to me, but I refuse to sleep with her again. It’s not going to happen. I’ve got a good thing going as her apprentice and I don’t want to ruin it. She already shakes me up too much as it is.

  The other bartender heads our way and Bee orders another shot. I watch her take that one, too, watch her swallow, her lips as they close over the lime, wishing like hell I could feel that mouth on other parts of my body.

  “Dance with me, Scratch.” Bee grabs my hand, but I shake my head.

  “I don’t dance. Even if I did, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” My eyes are on her hard, showing her what I mean by that.

  “You’re right. First guy I’ve ever met who thinks with the right head.”

  “I don’t want to. Believe me, I really don’t fucking want to.”

  “That’s my cue to go. I’ll be out there.” She nods toward the dance floor and starts to walk away. I down the rest of my beer as I watch her go.

  “You’re a fucking idiot, Cross.” Trevor grabs my bottle, but I don’t reply.

  Bee rolls her hips, her arms in the air as her body keeps perfect beat with the music. She’s all confidence out there, open and obviously enjoying herself in a way I’ve never seen her. Those walls aren’t up. She’s not hiding behind her veil or sarcasm—just losing herself in the song.

  She’s out there forever, coming up for another shot before heading right back to the dance floor.

  As she’s moving, some guy with a Mohawk slips behind her. My hands fist and my teeth grind together. Bee turns toward him and says something. He laughs, making my anger kick up another notch; then he holds up his hands, like he’s surrendering before taking a couple steps away.

  She goes right back into dancing but Mohawk is still close behind her. Easing forward, I sit up straighter, my feet planted on the ground as I fight the urge to stand up and go over there. It’s not my business. She’s not mine and I don’t want her to be.

  But what if he won’t leave her alone?

  I don’t want to protect someone else.

  It’s so much fucking pressure to be what other people need you to be. Especially when you fail at it over and over like I did. I tried so fucking hard for Laney, but she’s my sister. I don’t give a shit about anyone else.

  When Mohawk turns back to her, trying to dance and grind against her ass, I push to my feet. Trevor grabs my arm.

  “A woman like her doesn’t need to be protected. She’s only going to get pissed at you for trying.”

  Jerking my arm away, I head toward Bee. Fuck what Trevor said or if he’s right. Fuck if Bee gets pissed at me or not, and fuck that stupid voice in my head telling me to back off. That I’ve dealt with too much of other people’s shit in my life. That there’s a hundred other guys in here who can step in so I don’t have to get involved. I’m not going to let any guy give her or anyone shit while I’m here.

  I’m about halfway to her when Bee turns around and shoves him. Mohawk stumbles backward, but she doesn’t stop, she keeps going at him, screaming something as she does.

  “Settle the fuck down, you crazy bitch. I was only dancing,” Mohawk yells.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me unless I say you can.” When she tries to leap at him again, I grab her around the waist. She’s twisting and fighting the whole time but I stay between her and him.

  One of the bouncers on shift grabs Mohawk.

  “She told you once. Stay the fuck away from her,” I grit out at him as I stand between them. Bee’s trying to get around me. Everyone’s yelling. When I turn to look at her, she’s shut down again, nothing but fire in her eyes.

  “Don’t want the bitch anyway.” The asshole laughs.

  I don’t hold back this time; letting my fist fly forward, I hit him in the face. He drops to the ground as Bee tries to go for him again, but I grab her waist. She doesn’t stop trying to get free.

  When she almost slips out of my arms, I squeeze tighter, hefting her over my shoulder like a goddamned caveman or something, her fists coming down on my back the whole way out of the club.

  Chapter Nine

  ~Bee~

  I’m not the type of girl to make a scene. I don’t freak out for no reason, and I definitely don’t get thrown over a guy’s shoulder because I went postal on someone in a club.

  Yeah, I’m on edge because of the call from Mom and maybe a little bit because of Maddox, too, but that’s not what this is about. The second he put his arms around me from behind, I had this strange flashback. A weird almost déjà vu of being grabbed. It was familiar, too, and a part of me wants to dip back into that flash from my mind and explore what it was.

  The other part is pissed it was there in the first place.

  “Let me go!” I shove at Maddox, trying to get out of his arms. A chilly blast of night air hits me as he steps outside.

  Maddox doesn’t listen but walks around the corner until we’re a good distance from Lunar. When he sets me down, I realize we’re next to his bike.

  “What the hell was that?” My voice cracks as I scream at him.

  His voice is more measured but equally as angry as mine. “That was me saving your ass. By the way, I’m not the hero type. I’ve dealt with enough shit in my life.”

  His words make my thoughts stumble slightly. He did save my ass, even if it was from me making too big a fool of myself. This strange urge rumbles through me, to ask him what he’s dealt with, why he’s so adamant
not to be a savior; then I realize it’s not like I need that from him anyway.

  “And I don’t need a guy on a white horse to save me. I’m drunk. He grabbed me—”

  “He deserved what he got for putting his hands on you. Just don’t give me hell for pulling you out of a bad situation.”

  I don’t call him on the fact that he pretty much admitted that, regardless, he would have tried to be the hero tonight. I can see that in him. I didn’t realize it until right now, but Maddox is that guy who can’t stop himself from doing the right thing, even when it goes against who he thinks he needs to be.

  Why?

  “Thanks. I . . .” I let my words trail off there. Even if I was the type to tell him everything on my mind, I’m not sure what I would say. That it made me wonder if I was ever grabbed like that before. Or that it made little flashes of something pass through my mind that I don’t understand. Not going to happen.

  “I know you’ve already done your hero duty for tonight, but I need a ride home. I don’t think I can drive. Do you mind?”

  A slow grin slides across Maddox’s face before disappearing. “Don’t have another helmet. It’s a bummer because that could have been fun.”

  “Stop being a sexy flirt. You’re too angry for that,” I tease him. This time he doesn’t laugh or smile but kind of squints his eyes as though he’s working something out in his head. I don’t want it to be me.

  “I can call a cab. People won’t mess with my car here, will they?”

  “You’re drunk. You’re not taking a cab home by yourself. Give me your keys and I’ll drive you.”

  I shake my head. “I can handle a cab, and that leaves your bike here.”

  My breath hitches when Maddox steps so close to me I smell his masculine, spicy scent. He reaches for me as I say, “And I’m not that drunk.” Though I kind of am.

  When his fingers push into the pocket of my jean skirt, I try to step back. It gives him enough time to grab my keys and pull them out. “I’m not asking what you think I am either. Although I’m sure you wish I was.”

  “Shut up, Scratch.” I’m trying to be pissy at him, but the smile on my face is ruining it.

  And he’s ruining me because I’m supposed to be annoyed by him right now. It’s the tequila, I tell myself. He doesn’t give me much time to think about it, because Maddox is already walking toward my car. And I’m following him.

  In the car, I’m thinking about the fact that he grabbed my keys, and I let him.

  “Where do you live?” he asks, his voice rough.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, instead of replying. He’s a struggle to figure out, and I’m not sure if I want to or not. I’m already feeling comfortable with him, and that’s not what I’m looking for.

  “Okay, I’ll bring you back to Masquerade, then.”

  A foreign feeling of respect for him hits me. I don’t mean that I didn’t respect him before. It’s just not something I let myself think about often. But here I am, thinking about it, about Maddox. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will take me back to Masquerade, and even though I do stay there sometimes, I’m not thinking it’s a good idea tonight. Not with the scent and memories of Maddox and I still so fresh.

  “Go left on Canopy. It’s a few streets up.”

  I cross my arms, not sure if I’m suddenly annoyed at Maddox, myself, or both of us.

  My house is only about a ten-minute drive from Lunar, so it doesn’t take us long to get there. It’s on the tip of my tongue to again ask Maddox why he’s doing this, but he didn’t answer the first time and I don’t beg.

  If he wants to play the quiet martyr while denying he’s doing it, that’s his business.

  Still I can’t stop myself from wondering about him. Wondering what he hides. He doesn’t pretend, even though it’s obvious there’s more to him than he lets come to the surface. Maddox is a contradiction. He’s so closed off in some ways, yet in others he is who he is and he doesn’t disguise himself as anyone else . . . Like me? Or how I want to be?

  “Shit. You passed it. I’m a few streets back.”

  “I don’t know where you live. I didn’t pass it. You did.” That’s all he says before turning around and heading back the other way.

  I point to my house and Maddox pulls into my driveway. He kills the engine and sets my keys in my lap.

  “You can stay,” I tell him without thinking about it. “You can have my spare room and I’ll take you back to your bike in the morning.”

  “What’s your address?”

  “It’s rude to ignore people or not acknowledge when they offer you something.” The words make my chest tight. They’re true, but they don’t sound like me. They sound like my mom. It’s a scary thought. Not because there’s anything wrong with her. Someone would be lucky to be like her. I’m just not.

  Maddox sighs. “I’m not staying here and you know why. You don’t want me to and I know I shouldn’t.”

  The back of the seat catches my head when I drop it back. He’s right. We both know what will happen if he stays, and we’ve both already broken our rule with each other once. The second time we slept together never should have happened, so boundaries are a must right now.

  “You’re right. I’m drunk and not thinking.” I almost tell him it’s his fault for being so hot, but I have a feeling that would break the floodgates we’re trying to hold in place.

  “Let me pay for your cab.” It’s the least I can do.

  “You’re not paying,” he snaps.

  “Why? First I couldn’t leave by myself and now I can’t return your favor? I’m a big girl, Scratch. I can take care of myself.” But thank you . . .

  He pulls out his phone and I can’t help but wish I could see the expression on his face in the darkness.

  “Tell me your address.”

  He’s more like the Maddox from the first night, even more locked tight with short, angry answers. Maybe that’s a good thing.

  He dials information and asks for the number for a cab. When he gets them on the line, I give him my address.

  “They’ll be here in twenty.” He drops his cell to his lap.

  We’re both quiet for a few minutes. The whole time I know I should go in the house, but my legs are a little weak, the alcohol taking the energy out of me, so I don’t move. Really? Is that really why?

  “You coming in tomorrow?” I ask, needing to fill the silence. It’s a stupid question because he’s at Masquerade every day.

  “Yeah. We got anything?”

  “A couple appointments. I have a piercing. You can watch me in action and see how good I am.”

  At that he chuckles. “Still ain’t happening.”

  “Who said I still want to pierce you? I don’t do people who are scared.”

  He laughs a little harder at that. “I’m so scared I could cry.”

  “Wuss,” I toss back at him in this easy banter that I refuse to let myself question right now.

  It’s more silence after that. The quiet makes me a little jittery, though I’m not sure why. “Did I frighten you away?” My voice sounds light, but there’s a part of me really begging for the answer. Sometimes I’m too much for people and usually it works fine for me. I should get out of the car right now and tell him he can’t come back because of the way I’m waiting for his answer.

  “Nah. You just made me go over my word quota for the day.” His voice is honest.

  Lights shine through the window, burning my eyes. “Cab.” Yeah, like he didn’t notice that.

  We both get out of the car and Maddox says, “Go inside.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off. I can handle standing outside my own house in the middle of the night if I want to. But he’s been cool tonight. He drove me here when he didn’t have to, and I think there’s a white knight inside him who really couldn’t let himself leave if I stayed out here.

  And then he would hate himself for staying too.

  “FYI, I’m going in because I’m tired.
Not because you told me to. See ya tomorrow, Scratch.”

  When I get inside, I don’t turn on the light. There’s a window right by the door and I peek out, watching as the cab takes Maddox away.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Maddox~

  My sister wants to talk about everything. If she’s upset, happy, sad, whatever, she has words for it. Mom’s like that too. Not in the same way Laney is. Mom goes off—yells, screams, cries, and tries to make people feel bad. Laney likes to be close to people. She has this big fucking heart. I don’t know where she got it from because no one else in our family is like that.

  I grew up around this woman who wanted to tell me about every fucking thing, and sometimes it was hard because all I wanted to do was fix it, but I’ve never been able to.

  It’s been two weeks since I went to Lunar with Bee and she hasn’t mentioned it. Not the sex or the fight or sitting in her car. It’s a relief. I was tense as hell the next couple times I saw her, but she just went on with her life the way I like to pretend to go on with mine.

  I respect that about her.

  So, when she mentioned she planned to come in on Monday when Masquerade was closed to organize some of the shit inside, I told her I would help.

  She didn’t react, which means I didn’t have to be a prick, and here I am, parking my bike in front of the shop, knowing it’ll only be the two of us all day.

  I don’t usually do one-on-one real well, but I also want to be a part of everything when it comes to Masquerade.

  The door’s locked when I get there. Bee’s not in the front, so I have to knock for her to let me in.

  “You need a key,” she says as she closes and locks the door behind me.

  My pulse spikes in a way I actually enjoy. She’d give me a key? Bee doesn’t trust and that’s a huge fucking bit of it right there. “Would make things easier.” I shrug.

  “Of course, I’d have to kill you if you screwed with anything in my shop.”

  “You think you’re so fucking tough, don’t you?” Playfully, I ruffle her hair before realizing what the hell I’m doing and jerking my hand back.