Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(52)
Author: K.A. Linde

“That’s the idea.”

Aribel returned a few minutes later, looking defeated and frustrated. I wanted to kiss the worry off of her face. In fact, I wanted to kiss every inch of her body. Taste, lick, and touch a road map of her lush figure. Mostly, I wanted to fuck her senseless, and seeing her standing before me—even in jeans, a blue-and-white striped shirt, and my leather jacket—was making me ache for her.

Who was I fucking kidding? I’d been aching for her every day since I’d left.

She threw her hands up. “He’s an idiot.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We argued. He thinks I’m young and naive. I know he’s trying to protect me, but I don’t need to be protected from you. I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

“So, what? Did he just split?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sounded totally dejected.

I wasn’t used to that from Ari. She was usually so confident about all her choices. Then, she pushed her shoulders back, and a look of defiance crossed her face. There was my girl.

“We’ll see him tomorrow at dinner with my family. He’d better be on good behavior.”

“He’ll come around,” I said. Though I wasn’t sure. Her family seemed to be a tough egg to crack. And I didn’t have experience dealing with family—period.

She looked doubtful. “I hope so.”

I reached for her hand and pulled her to me. “There is a positive to his absence though, Princess.”

Her blue eyes found mine, and she gave me a coy smile. “What would that be?”

“I get my girl all to myself.”

Hours later, after we were spent, exhausted, and had thoroughly made up for lost time, we slipped back into our clothes and joined the guys at a local bar. Ari flashed her fake ID to the bouncer who barely looked at it, and then we pushed through the crowd to get to the back corner. The two bands sat in a circle, drinking heavily. There were at least two or three girls for every guy.

Ari stiffened next to me, and I followed her gaze. McAvoy had his arm around a brunette groupie. I thought her name was Amanda or Mandy or something like that. She’d followed us to the last couple of shows and had attached herself to McAvoy, who seemed to like having a constant to fuck on tour.

Ari averted her eyes. I could tell she wished she hadn’t seen that. From what I’d gathered, the girls were pretty beat up about us being gone, and Gabi was the worst of them all. Ari didn’t want to have to report back that McAvoy had replaced her already.

Miller saved me from saying something stupid by standing and giving Ari a hug.

“Good to see you, Aribel.”

She looked relieved and sat down next to him. “Hey.”

I crashed down into the seat next to Ari and introduced her to the rest of The Drift. I knew she had seen them before, but no introductions had been made.

Ridley vigorously shook her hand. “Good to finally meet you. McDermott won’t shut the fuck up about you.”

“Oh,” she said with a giant smile on her face. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Hey, baby,” a girl said, sliding onto my lap and planting a kiss on my cheek. “It’s good to see you out with the guys again.”

Aribel glared at the girl. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t worry, honey. There’s enough of him to go around.”

I stood, depositing the girl on the floor. I had no patience for her antics. She was hot and had been throwing herself at me since New Year’s. I was fucking tired of it. She knew she had no fucking shot, and she was acting this way to try to piss off Ari.

“Jaci, go blow Vin or something.”

She scrambled to her feet, straightening her tiny skirt out. “What the fuck, Grant?”

“Nothing has ever happened with us Jaci. Nothing is ever going to happen with us. If you didn’t notice, my girlfriend is here,” I said, pointing at Ari. “Get some fucking manners.”

“Will she be at the next show? Because I’m free.” She winked at me.

“Are girls normally this brazen?” Ari asked in shock.

Miller shrugged. “With Grant.”

“Whatever, Jaci. You know I’m not fucking interested. Wouldn’t you rather take it up the ass with Vin again instead of acting so fucking desperate around me?”

Her cheeks colored. I didn’t feel bad calling her out about it. Maybe I was finally getting through.

“Fine,” she grumbled and then stomped toward Vin.

His face lit up at her approach, and then they were exiting the building.

I shook my head and sank back down. With her ridiculous demonstration out of the way, I slung my arm over Ari’s shoulders and tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. It was damn good, having my girl here with me. It felt right.

It was the piece that had been missing on this tour. But I knew she would never follow us around like these sluts. She was too smart and independent for that, and I wouldn’t fucking change that for the world. It was what had made me fall in love with her.

On nights like this, with her nestled in my arms after hours of sex while surrounded by my friends, it started to sound like the dream.

But tomorrow, I knew that reality would return with all its nightmares.

Grant and I stood outside of my parents’ house. He couldn’t stop staring at the massive building, and I couldn’t blame him. It was an enormous six-bedroom brick creation that had been built in the early 1800s. My parents had purchased it when I was three, and it had undergone more historical upkeep and renovations over the years than the White House.

“This is where you grew up?” Grant asked.

“Um, yeah. Home sweet home.”

“Fuck.”

I nodded. I couldn’t imagine what this was like for him. He’d come from a broken home, his parents had been lost to him at ten years old, he’d grown up and worked at his uncle’s pizza place on the shore…and now, he was seeing this. It made me feel self-conscious, which was a feeling I certainly wasn’t used to.

“Come on. Let’s go inside.”

I’d ditched my leather jacket in favor of a pale blue sundress and ballet flats. I’d even been sure to pull a straightener through my hair, which was well past my shoulders at this point.

Grant looked presentable but still like…Grant. He didn’t have a lot of clothing choices on tour and even fewer opportunities to iron his clothes, not that I suspected he did it at home either. He was in dark-wash jeans and a plain black T-shirt. His hair was still unbelievably messy but in a way that made me want to walk him back to the hotel and give it a reason for being messy. I could tell his nerves had set in, making my confident boyfriend ill at ease.