Dearest Clementine (38 page)

“Sorry, sweet thing,” one very muscly guy says as he splashes me with Budweiser. Gross.

I shake my arm to get it off, and Jenna laughs.

“What’s so funny? The fact that I’m getting doused in cheap beer?”

“No, the look on Gavin’s face when that guy started talking to you.” She points to the other side of the room where the guys are setting up their gear.

“What do you mean?”

Gavin is on the makeshift stage helping Kade set up his drums.

“He looked protective or maybe jealous. Probably both. It was precious.”

She holds up her cup to toast. I give her a look and clink my plastic cup in return.

Jenna looks gorgeous tonight. Her hair is twisted into a complicated braid that hangs over her shoulder. Only she could pull off extensions. And she’s totally rocking the slave outfit. I’d be mortified to have that much skin exposed, but she looks comfortable and doesn’t seem to mind that most of the male audience is checking her out.

I felt a little silly dressing as a cheerleader, but once I got here and looked around, I realized my costume is pretty tame. There are devil girls, naughty nurses, and a whole assortment of girls in lingerie. In contrast, I actually look a little wholesome with my hair pulled up into a high ponytail.

When Ryan takes the stage, he’s changed out of his Han Solo costume and is wearing a fitted black t-shirt and jeans. Glancing over at Jenna, I laugh.

“Do you ever get tired of eye-fucking your boyfriend?”

Her brow perks up.

“Do I look like I get tired of eye-fucking my boyfriend? Besides, you should talk. Looks like you’re about to eat Gavin whole, although he does look pretty scrumptious tonight.”

Gavin showed up tonight dressed as a football player. I spent four years trying to get over a jock only to find out that Gavin was the starting QB at his old high school. Figures. And Jenna is more than pleased with herself that she was able to coordinate our costumes to surprise me. Before Gavin got on stage, though, he took off his shoulder pads and jersey and is wearing a t-shirt with those snug white football pants that make him look delectable.

Girls start squealing when Ryan grabs the mic and introduces the band. I have to admit he’s pretty cute with his blond hair all spiked up, but then Gavin starts strumming, and everyone goes crazy and pushes forward. By the time Kade kicks in with the drums, this place is insane.

It’s a fast, driving beat, and Ryan croons into the mic and owns the stage, strutting seductively. A girl next to me audibly gasps when he looks in our direction. I might tease Jenna about how much she ogles Ryan, but he can’t keep his eyes off her either. I’m almost embarrassed to watch them, but two years of accidentally walking in on them screwing on every surface imaginable has almost made me immune.

When Gavin kicks in for the harmony, I almost lose it. His voice is deeper than Ryan’s and rougher. He sounds more primal. Sexier. When he looks at me, I fan myself, and he winks.
I can’t wait to get him home.

Jenna and I start dancing, and I’m lost in the music, in the way Gavin harmonizes with Ryan, until a flash of skin catches my eye. In the front row, some girl… she… she…

People are swaying and dancing, and I’m stock still.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jenna wraps her arm around me. “Girls flash the guys at every show. They’re used to it.”

“Uh, I’m not.” I’m so fucking not.

Jenna nods like she has a secret to tell me and leans in to whisper, “That’s why you should
always
come to the shows and be sure to give your boy a show of his own afterward.” She lifts her hand and makes a crude gesture against her mouth.

“Jenna!”

She laughs and grins wickedly. I shake my head, embarrassed.

My roommate might brag about sexing up her man after his shows, but I know they’re deeper than that, and I think Gavin and I are too.

When the clapping dies down, Ryan grins. “Thanks for the love, but I need to warn you, ladies. I’m not responsible for what my girl over there does if she catches another eyeful.” He laughs into the mic, and everyone laughs with him.

After another half hour, we’re good and sweaty from dancing, and I’m sporting a decent buzz. Jenna and I keep giggling, watching our beautiful boys perform, and I have to warn her a couple of times when she gets dangerously close to flashing her Jabba the Hutts.

The music stops, and Ryan shifts to the side of the stage and picks up another guitar as Gavin walks up to the mic. He clears his throat and grins. “This one is for Clementine, that hot cheerleader over there. It’s called
Golden Girl
.”

He nods toward me, and I could drop dead. Everyone turns to stare at me as Jenna yanks on my arm, jumping up and down.

Gavin reaches next to him and pulls out his mandolin and starts strumming.
Holy crap, he wrote me a song.
It’s a ballad. His eyes lock with mine as he starts to sing.

Golden girl, you’ve put a spell on me,

With whispered words that I can see

I can’t walk away after all of this

You sealed my fate with that first kiss

Golden girl, you have no idea,

You’ve put a knockout spell on me

I can’t take a breath without you

I can see it now, what we can be

Don’t try to fight it

I won’t walk away

I got a thing for you, baby

I promise I’ll stay

Golden girl, I’ve got those lips memorized

Your name is carved into my heart

I can’t lie, I’m addicted

I’ve loved you from the start

Golden girl, I’m lost up in that smile

The way you laugh, the way you fight

Being here with you might be heaven

You feel so perfect, you feel so right

Don’t try to fight it

I won’t walk away

I got a thing for you, baby

I promise I’ll stay

When the music stops, the crowd starts cheering, and some blonde in leopard-print lingerie leans over to me and yells, “How did you snag Gavin Murphy? I’m so jealous!”

Jenna is grinning, screaming for the band, but she takes one look at me and stops. “Are you crying?”

“No,” I say, sniffling, trying my best to hold it in.

“Oh, man. You have it just as bad, huh?” She hugs me and I nod. “Does this mean I have someone to come to all of their shows with me?”

“Hell, yes. Especially if he’s going to write me songs. God.” I dab at the corners of my eyes, trying not to mess up my mascara.

Jenna looks like she’s debating something when she whispers, “I don’t want to make you feel bad about this because I know you had a lot going on, but he sang this song for you last weekend.”

But I wasn’t there.
Shit.

As the weight of that sinks in, I’m overwhelmed.
He was going to tell me he loved me first.

-
32 -

When we reach my front door, Gavin stops like there’s an invisible force field, zips up his hoodie and tucks his hands into his pockets. I open the door, waiting for him to follow, but he doesn’t. The night is cold, and wisps of his breath float into the breeze.

Oh, I get it. He’s trying to be a gentleman, to have restraint and not take things too far.
Uh, yeah, screw that.

I’m on a step above him, but he’s still taller. With my hands on my hips, I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him. “Get over here.”

He leans in an inch, and I grab both sides of his hoodie and yank him to me hard so that we’re nose to nose.

“You wrote me a song.”

The grin that erupts on his face takes my breath away. When girls describe a guy as having a panty-dropping smile, it’s always made me roll my eyes, but not tonight because, hell yes, this boy could get me to drop my drawers in a heartbeat.

“Did you like it?” he asks, and oh my lord, he looks shy.

I nod slowly and nibble seductively on my lip, or at least I hope it looks seductive and not like bad 70s porn, but given the way he’s staring at my mouth, it has the intended effect. “Yes, and I have a surprise for you too.” And, oh, do I!

Grabbing his hand before he has a chance to ask any questions, I push the door open and pull him in behind me.

My heart is a jackhammer in my chest, but I try not to let fears about my inexperience overwhelm me.

No one is home, which is perfect. I drop my bag by the couch and head to my room, my fingers still linked with his. I stop at my bedroom door and turn to face him.

“I need you to go get something out of the fishbowl.”

Gavin tilts his head.
He must not remember.
I grin, almost unable to keep it together. “Go to the bathroom and grab a couple of packages out of the fishbowl. Go.”

I shoo him with my hand, and he looks at me like I’m crazy but complies, walking into the bathroom and turning on the light. The fishbowl is up on the third shelf, so it’s possible he’s never seen it.

Slipping into my room, I flip on my stereo before I toss a scarf over my lamp to diffuse it. When I turn around, he’s in my doorway. He has something clutched in his hand, and he’s staring at me. Intensely.

I thought he’d run back in here and rip off all of my clothes, but he hasn’t moved a muscle.
Okay
. Guess I have to make the first move. Kicking off my Chucks, I smile before I pull him in and shut the door.

“Gavin? You okay?”

His eyes tighten, and his lips turn into a devilish grin, one I’d like to lick, but I decide to play his game, the one he started on my front stoop.

“So you’re kind of a good boy,” I say with mock judgment. I open his palm and take the condoms, tossing them on my bed. “Always following all the rules. Not wanting any conflicts of interest.” Unzipping his jacket, I look at him with a little pout. “Am I a conflict of interest, Gavin?” I don’t stop undressing him as I wait for his answer.

“You are, darlin’.” His voice is breathy and deep. “Because I usually play it safe, and you’re anything but.”
I don’t know that I’d categorize Angelique as safe, but she was a journalist, so they must have had a lot in common.

“Hmm. That’s distressing.” Pushing off his hoodie puts a small smile on my face. “Maybe I could say something to make you feel better.” I tug his shirt off before angling him deeper into my room and pushing him onto the bed. “I can’t believe you wrote me a song. I
love
it. In fact, I might have to show you how much I love it.”

His green eyes smolder beneath those lusciously dark lashes, making the blood rush to my cheeks. Realizing how convenient this teeny cheerleader skirt is, I sit astride him. He licks his lips, and deep hot desire for this perfect man burns in my belly.

I’m on shaky territory here. So outside of my safe zone. But I think about Jenna and how she always goes the extra mile for Ryan.
I can do this.
Because I’m in my pep-talk mode, I hear the theme to
Rocky
, which is all wrong and does nothing to get me in the mood. I shake my head, trying to get Sylvester Stallone out of my mind when Gavin runs his hands up my thighs.

Now that gets my attention. I grab his face between my hands and press myself closer. He hasn’t shaved, and I love the roughness of him on my skin.

“Baby, we don’t have to do this ton—”

I put my finger on his lips for a moment before I place my hands on his chest and push him down. Hovering over him, I reach up and pull out my ponytail, letting my long hair cascade around us.

“Do I look like someone’s holding a gun to my head?” If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he didn’t want to do this. But doesn’t every guy want to have sex? Doubt rears its fugly head. Is it possible he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Shit. I don’t want to throw myself at him.

He must see it in my eyes.

“Clementine.”

I’m starting to scoot off him when he grabs my wrists and pulls me down so that I collapse on him, hip to hip, belly to belly. But I already burn with the sting of rejection, and I start to wiggle away. His grasp on my arms tighten. “Stop. Of course I want to. I just don’t want you to think that you owe me anything.”

I stare at him, silent. He arches his head so he can kiss me, but I don’t kiss back, which makes him growl.