Page 88 of Heart Sick Hate

It’s a small protective gesture that feels bigger than it probably looks. Possessive when he knows he has to share me with his brother. And as we wait to place our order, I can’t help but toy with my ring hanging from his neck.

The truth that I’m all his where it actually matters. That in the deepest pit of my soul I’ll never be anyone else’s. Even when this inevitably has to end, I’ll live in this spot beside his heart.

“What do you want to drink?” He tips my chin up and forces my gaze to his.

“Vodka soda.”

Crew leans toward the bar when the bartender stops at us, yelling our drink order, before returning his attention to me. He holds his arms around my waist and watches me. Almost like he can read the music in my eyes. His gaze only dipping to see my fingers spinning around the ring.

The song ends as our drinks arrive, and he hands me mine so he can keep hold of my free hand as he leads me to a row of booths in the very back of the club. They’re secluded and roped off, but Crew hands a stack of cash to a security guard to get us past.

Guiding me with his fingers on the center of my back, he leads us to a booth near the end. From here you canstill see the stage—and certainly hear them—but we’re nearly in our own world. It’s dark apart from the occasional throbbing light, and couples in the booths as we pass are using it to their advantage.

Crew slides in first, but when I scoot in next to him, he grabs me by the waist and plants me in his lap, forcing me to straddle him like we did in our hotel room.

“Crew.”

He wraps his jacket around my waist to hide my ass from being on display.

“Like I said, Goldie.” He leans back and watches me with amusement. “You and that fucking outfit are going to pay.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a joint and lights it. There’s so much booze and pot in here, no one will notice. He takes a long drag, before tipping his head back and letting it curl out from between his lips. And when he draws the joint to his mouth again, the smallest smirk flicks at the corner of his lips as he inhales.

Crew pulls me close, stamping his mouth over mine and sealing our lips together. He feeds me the smoke, and it goes straight to my head.

His tongue tangles with mine, and I can’t help but drown in the intimacy of it. My head floating to the stars while his fingers grip my lower body.

On my inhale, Crew tilts his mouth and grips the back of my head, melting into a kiss. So sweet and gentle it’s unlike everything about him. So I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto it. Sink into the peace of this quietmoment when my mind stops, and the world is so loud it’s white noise.

When Crew pulls back, he holds the joint up for me and helps me take the hit. He watches my mouth wrap around it like it might as well be his dick. His pupils blown wide and focused as he stares.

My bones soften the longer I hold my breath, and my body gets waxy with relaxation. Somewhere in the distance, my thoughts skitter away, and it’s just me and Crew—his steel eyes honed in on me—as the pressure escapes with the smoke curling from my lips between us.

“That’s good shit.” I smile.

“Blaze only sells the best.”

Hence his nickname.

Marijuana smoke clouds the room. Fogs my head. Makes a mess of my already distorted thoughts. And sitting in Crew’s lap, with his arms around me, I can’t help but fight the urge to float away with him. To pretend we’re far enough from our problems that they don’t exist.

Crew takes another drag, and I smooth my fingers over the back of his head, unable to help that my hips circle in his lap.

I need his heat. His friction.

I need to let go of whatever tethers me back.

Crew grins, the smoke filtering out from between his lips with it. “Careful what you start, Echo. I have no problem fucking you in front of everyone in this room.”

Why does that make my insides flutter?

In LA, I’m his brother’s girlfriend. I can’t be caught walking too close to Crew, much less holding his hand orsitting in his lap. But here, in the shadows of Oakland, we bleed into the background of this club like anyone else. We hide in the screams of the music. We look like any other couple, not running from our secrets.

I circle my hips again and lean close, burying my face near his neck. “What was it you said outside the bar? Let them watch?”

That night he unlocked something I didn’t realize lived within me. Something almost as forbidden as he is. And when he shoved me to the ground and stuck his cock down my throat, the risk of being caught was what nearly sent me over the ledge.

The fact that he empowered me to not be embarrassed or ashamed woke me up inside.

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