Page 8 of Where You Are

Perfect!

MATT

I knock before letting myself into Sarah and Mike’s house. I’ve known Jack long enough that I know I’m considered family here and stroll through the house, following the sound of jovial and contented laughter. I find the whole Krasinski clan in the kitchen, but one of them seems to be exiting as I walk in. I see the LakeView U on her shorts and…fuck… me. Melanie.

And to think I almost ran over the beauty I’d been looking forward to seeing since yesterday. The last couple of years actually, if I’m being honest.

I can’t help myself. The first thing out of my mouth is the comment about her running out in front of cars. From what I remember of the little amount of time I’ve spent with her, she’s always had a good sense of humor and will laugh with me about it.

She turns at my words and her green eyes that are such a pale shade of sage light up the rest of her face, and despite the golden tone of her skin, I see a little pink in her cheeks. She’s blushing, and I’d give my right nut to know why. I’m wondering if it’s in reaction to the comment I made, or just being near me. I mentally wish on all my lucky stars that it’s the latter.

She finally breaks out in a bright smile. “Hey Matt.”

Wow. My name coming out of her mouth with her silvery voice is like wind chimes.

“Hey Melanie,” is all I can manage to say back.

She looks around the room at everybody and then back at me again before announcing, “I’m going to go change,” hooking both her thumbs over her shoulder in the direction of the pool house before turning and heading towards it.

Damn. She seems to cartwheel in and out of my life like a frickin’ ninja. I try not to show my frustration as I help to carry a few things out to the patio and set up tables, while Jack gets the sound system going.

It’s fine. She’s not getting away so easily this time. The party’s just getting started.

Chapter Five

Melanie

How isit that a guy I hardly know and haven’t seen in over two years makes me so nervous? I’m talking heart-galloping, hot the neck and face, (and it ain’t the weather), steel butterflies-in the-stomach nervous. Years ago, he was cute. Sexy even. But the way he stood in front of me in my sister’s kitchen just now? That was a fully-matured, confident as hellmanin there, with sparkling blue eyes with lashes that most women would kill to have. And the way his voice sounded, so low, smooth, and alluring…

After changing into my army green bikini and throwing cut off shorts and a tank over it, I check my appearance in the mirror. I’m not really into make-up, but I do try to make sure my messy bun looks just the right kind of messy, which takes a few minutes.Unbelievable. Their sole purpose is to make it look like you couldn’t give two shits, and here I am giving about nine. Because of aboy. Who’s turned into a definitive, delicious lookingman. I can’t see it going anywhere because of how close he is to Jack, but that doesn’t mean I want to look like shit around him.

Screw it.

I emerge onto the patio area where most of the guys are already in the pool, and Sarah and Mayzie are getting started on blended margaritas. I head over to the cooler, opting for a beer and join them at the wood table.

“You’re not going to have one of these?” Mayzie asks, sipping on the tasty looking frozen pale orange drink.

“Beer is more her thing,” Sarah fills in for me so I don’t have to explain myself and my standards for alcohol consumption.

“That’s cool,” Mayzie nods with a smile. “That’s what I drink mostly.”

“RAH!” A gruff, masculine voice growls in my ear and a pair of large hands grab me around my ribcage from behind. I scream at the top of my lungs and jump sky high before abruptly turning around to meet a male torso, clad in a black t-shirt. I look up to see a handsome face with golden brown scruff, blue eyes and a straw cowboy hat resting on his head.

“Chris!” I shout and give him a few good smacks and punches to his abs and arms while he drops back and laughs.

“Welcome back, little nomad!” he chortles before gathering me up in a hug, bringing my feet up off the stone patio floor.

“You scared the shit out of me!” I slap his arm one more time as he sets me down. Never a dull moment with Turn it Up’s crazy-ass, high energy drummer. I should have had my guard up.

“Just getting warmed up,” he chides with a poke to my ribs, making me jump and yelp again. “Welcome back again,” he says as he walks away, removing his hat to show off longish golden strands of hair with dark roots, and tossing it on a nearby lounge chair. It’s now I realize he’s got on a pair of loud pink swim trunks with bananas all over them.

“Hey Melanie,” I hear a calmer, more reserved voice say from behind me, and I turn to see Josh, Turn it Up’s rhythm guitarist. He has a small smile on his lips as he holds his arm out, inviting me in for a side hug, a huge contrast to the Tasmanian Devil that just blew through here. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the fans have dubbed him “the broody one”.

Josh has a tough exterior with mysterious brown eyes and sandy brown hair that he keeps short on the sides but a little longer on top. He’s a sweet guy, but definitely has something brewing just beneath the surface.

“Hi Josh,” I say warmly, leaning into him for a quick squeeze.

“How’ve you been, sweetie?”

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