Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1) (Good god series) (11 page)

Travis thought about Dean again and felt bad for the guy. There was something about him, something sad and ruined, and he wondered what could have happened to Dean in his life to stop him from ever being with someone. Not only that, but he had thrown the band into tumult multiple times because he couldn’t say no, if what Kevin said was true.
 

He asked himself what he would do if Lex stepped out on him with Dean. She was his best friend, and he loved her, but he didn’t think he was in love with her. What they had worked, and worked well, but they were both content where things were.

He knew her and trusted her. If she wanted a thing with Dean or anyone else, she’d be honest with him about it, and he would let her go.

LEX WAS A LITTLE wary as she walked with Travis to the warehouse for practice, heavily armed with things to keep her busy, just in case his new band was anything like Spike’s. She’d suffered through enough shows and practices with the old band that she had a system for keeping herself entertained, which largely included a good book and her leather bound sketch book. Both were tucked away in her ridiculously large purse, and though she hoped she wouldn’t have to use them, she wasn’t holding out for a miracle.

She followed Travis into the warehouse, and as soon as the door banged closed behind her, she fell in love.
 

Her boot heels clicked on the worn, cement floor, and she paused on a rectangle of light let in from the windows that lined the top of the thirty-foot ceilings. She tilted her head to follow the column of light, and her lips parted in awe at the beauty of the space as her eyes traced the concrete beams that arched overhead like the rib bones of some ancient beast.

“Awesome, right?” Travis smiled at her, watching her gape.

“Seriously,” she breathed.

Microphones and amps were set up in the middle of the warehouse on worn Persian rugs, and Travis’ drums stood on a small platform behind the keyboard and guitar stands. Old orange and yellow velvet couches sat in front of the microphone where the lead singer belonged. Lex smiled, still looking around as she headed to the biggest couch and sank into it.
 

She reached into her bag, digging around in the black hole for her book, but looked up when she sensed someone in front of her. She froze dead when her eyes locked on his.

They were the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, almost shocking in his long face, and his wide lips bent in a crooked smile. He was tall, really tall, and his ebony hair fell forward as he looked down at her. He pushed it back without seeming to think about it, but it still looked perfectly tossed, like he’d just rolled out of bed.

She realized she still hadn’t taken a breath and flushed, then fumbled and almost dropped her book.
 

“Uh, hi. I’m Lex.” She tossed her hand in a wave, hoping she looked casual.

He paused for a second, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, and as she studied him, it dawned on her that he was amused. She was unnerved, even more so when she realized that was exactly what he wanted.

“Hey,” he said, the timbre of his voice deep and full. “I’m Dean.”

Lex realized her mouth was open. And that he was smirking. And that he was dead sexy while he was doing it. She closed her mouth and cocked an eyebrow, trying to pull herself together, not wanting to let him know he’d gotten to her.
 

“Dean, huh? I heard they call you Professor Panty Dropper.”

His smile stretched wider. “Oh, is that what they say?”

“They do.”

A tall blond, who she guessed was Roe, stood at the microphone glaring at them. “Mic check, Dean.”

They stared at each other like idiots for a split second longer before Dean turned to pick up his guitar, and he took his place with the rest of the band. She watched him walk away, then blinked a few times and turned to her bag again, not looking for anything, just needing to keep her hands busy and her eyes off of Dean while she scraped her dignity off the floor.

She picked up her book and leaned back on the couch, glancing at Travis, who was tightening his drum heads. He hadn’t seen their exchange, and she let out a breath.
 

Why should it matter? Nothing even happened, Lex. Her heart fluttered a
Yeah, right
at her.

Her eyes wandered back to Dean as he leaned over the microphone with his guitar slung behind his back. His hands slid down the pole to adjust the height, and she bit her lip. His voice rumbled through the speakers, and he glanced at her as he spoke. “One, two. Okay, guys, Glow?”

Travis chopped his sticks together to start the rhythm of a driving, bluesy rock beat, and Dean brought in a steady, tempting riff on his guitar. He leaned up to the microphone, his mouth practically on it, and started to sing.
 

You already know the answer

I need to hear

Know, baby, know

Glow, baby, glow

Like electricity

Send it through the phone line

And into my ear

Find me in the dark

Got to have you near

You’re the one that takes me there

My sun shines for you

Shines off a hundred mirrors

To show me the way through

You already know the answer

I need to hear

So know, baby, know

Glow, baby, glow

Like electricity

Take me where I need to go

Couldn’t find my way

But take my hand so I can see

I can’t help but stay

He closed his eyes and bent his brow, occasionally looking down between verses as he picked the strings, playing with such ease she wondered where he’d learned, who had taught him. It seemed so natural that he would be standing there, playing that guitar, singing that song. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, completely fascinated.

The song ended, and she was surprised, unsure how long it had gone on, disappointed that it was over.

Ho-ly shit.

Lex’s realized her mouth was gaping again, and she snapped it closed.

My god. He might actually have the power to spontaneously drop panties from here to China.
 

Dean turned around to discuss changes in the pace and his guitar solo, and Lex was thankful she didn’t have to hide her very physical reaction to The Dean Show. She gave herself an inward slap and opened her bag to deposit her book, swapping it with her black leather notebook.

Lex curled up on the couch, and her pencil flew across the page, sketching Dean as he stood before her, his sadness relayed in every note he sang, every bend of his head, every strum of his strings. As he took shape on her page, her heart cracked and chipped as she wondered how someone so beautiful could be so broken.

Dita stretched out flat on top of her Egyptian cotton quilt and traced her fingers along the stitches that bound the floral fabric together. Perry lay on the end of the bed on her back, staring at the domed, tiled ceiling with a sleeping Bisoux rolled up in a tiny ball on her chest.

“Gods, Lex is already a goner.” Perry shook her head.

“I know. Did you see that? She was swooning. I thought for a second there that she was actually going to pass out.”

“I thought I might pass out along with her. Dean’s like a vagina bomb. One look, and BOOM.”

“Oh my gods,” Dita laughed, and Bisoux stirred on Perry’s chest. “It’s so true, though. He’s just got that
thing
, that charisma. Luckily for the women of the world, he’s not a predator. More of an opportunist.”

“Well, phase one is complete. You got them in the same room, and fireworks exploded in their pants. Congratulations.”

“I’d definitely call that a success. Now the real work begins, because that’s not going to be enough for Lex.”

“No?”

“No. She’s terrified of falling in love, but she’s also terrified of being alone.”

“How exactly does that work?”

Dita rolled over to lie next to Perry and stared at the Moroccan tiles on the ceiling in bright, warm colors. “She has this vault that she’s put her heart into, and it stops anyone from really getting in. She’s so afraid that she’s going to get hurt that she subconsciously shuts her emotions out. She’s not actively thinking about it, and I don’t know if she even knows it, but the second she smells whoever she’s dating pulling away, she splits. On the other end, if she feels like there’s too much pressure on her, or she starts to feel something for them, she runs. And then, her logical self wants to do right by these guys, so once she feels that she’s a problem, she leaves too.”

“So basically if things get complicated, she bolts.”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“But she’s always got a boyfriend?” Perry petted Bisoux head, and he nestled into her chest.

“Always. It’s not always as long term as Travis has been, and this is the first time she’s ever lived with anyone. She’s looking for love, which is what’s really fucked up.”

“Everyone’s looking for love, though.”

“Not everyone. Some have already found it. Like look at you and Hades.”

“True, but it’s not like that was love at first sight.”

Dita laughed. “No, I guess being kidnapped puts a damper on that.”

“The kidnapping was the least of my worries at the time, but it worked out. I love him more than anything, even though he was a prick.”

“I’m glad he did right by you.”

“It was always there. I mean, you try growing up with Zeus and Poseidon as your older brothers and getting thrown into the underworld. None of them wanted that job. Hades got the short straw and was more than a little bitter about it.”

“Ugh, I remember when they made that decision. I would have been so much happier if Zeus had been put in the underworld.”

Perry jacked an eyebrow. “You really want my husband in charge of everyone? Are we talking about the same Hades?”

“Well, at least he wouldn’t have forced me to marry Heff.”

“No, probably not, but that worked itself out, too.”

“For me, not for Heff. Being forced to marry me is the most cruel thing ever done to him, and his own mother threw him out of Olympus.”

“He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“You know that’s a lie, Perry. He wants more than I’ll ever give him.”

“I know that, but what I mean is that he seems content.”

“I’m sure that’s what he really wants out of life. An eternity of being ‘content.’”

“Things could be worse for him.”

“Worse than his wife refusing him and constantly banging other gods?” Dita asked.

Perry rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you guys have ever been together like that.”

“That doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty about it.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty for loving Adonis.”

Dita took a breath. “We’ve been apart for so long, though.”

“At least you have each other some of the time, right?”

“Thanks to you,” Dita said and laid her hand on Perry’s, her sadness and gratitude heavy in her chest as her thoughts traveled to the day of Adonis’ funeral.

His eyes were closed, as if asleep or dreaming, but all was wrong. Even in sleep, his face had been full of life and joy, but that was gone, and what remained was only a shell, a shadow of what he once was.