Page 17 of Derailed
Bang, bang,bang.
What in the hell? Is that—ahammer?
No one builds shit around here. Our rented home is in the hills. Unless one of the neighbors is having some renovation work done. But no. This sounded a lot closer. Almost as if it were in my ownroom.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I groan when the banging startsagain.
My mouth is dry. Head throbs. I rub the sleep from my eyes and roll to my back, remembering lastnight.
We partied hard. After sobering up with food, Cora took us to her friend’s place in Santa Monica where they were serving more liquor, including—you guessed it—tequila. I usually don’t partake in such copious amounts, but it’d been so long since we went out as a band, just for fun. We partied until four in the fucking morning. So, as I roll out of bed and reach for my cell on the side of my bed, it’s no surprise that it’s almost two in the afternoon. My blackout curtains in the room serve their purpose well, because it’s dark as a cave. Had it not been for the pounding, I’d have slept a few morehours.
I hit the head and scrounge around in my cabinets until I find some aspirin, downing them with a glass of water from the sink and brushing my teeth before venturing from my room to investigate. The pounding stops but there’s commotion in the hallway. Footsteps. Voices. Moreshuffling.
Right. Coy’s moving in today. I’m surprised that fucker is up and at ’em with the amount he drank. Hell, I’m surprised he’s still breathing. The dude’s funnier than I thought he’d be. Way more down to earth once he stopped trying to impress. I’m relieved too, and actually excited we found him for the tour. If only it weren’t for his girlfriend taggingalong.
Hmm. . . Curiosity has me shuffling my way to the door. I wonder if she’s a diva like most women, or a cool chick like Lexi and Cora. I scrub the sleep from my eyes again and prepare for the burst of light that’ll pour in once I open thedoor.
I step out into the hallway, eyes squinting, and am practically clobbered by a tower of moving boxes attached to two fantastic legs. “Shit,” I curse as the boxes hit my chest and tumble to theground.
“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry.” My gaze follows the legs up to find an incredibly attractive young woman. She drops to her knees, chin dipped so her hair falls forward in her face. She restacks the handful she had before she careened into me. “I didn’t . . . I’m so sorry.” She won’t meet my gaze but there’s something about her that’s awfullyfamiliar.
Oh. My.God.
The girl from the waiting room in Off Track Records yesterday.That’s why she was there.Coy’s girlfriend. My new roommate. The one I was eye fucking.Oh, fuck menow.
“I really am sorry.” She struggles to lift the stack ofboxes.
And I’m being a dick for standing here staring.Get it together, man. I place my hand on her arm so she’ll look at me. The minute those big brown eyes lift to meet mine my pulse kicks up, along with the awareness that I’m wearing nothing more than my boxers. Of course my dick realizes this too, and it’s all I can do to keep him from popping up to sayhello.
“I’m sorry,” sheblurts.
“For what, exactly?” I cock my head and then take most of the boxes from her arms. “Here, letme.”
“I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” She’s actually concerned and I have tolaugh.
“It’ll take more than a few cardboard boxes to take me out.” I wince, pretending I’m offended. “Right to the ego. All those hours in the gymwasted.”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry,Sean.”
Fuck, I love the way my name sounds on her lips. It’d sound even better in my bedroom.Damn it! No!Not my girl, but my dick doesn’t seem to care about semantics. Thank God for the box covering my growing junk. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, I don’t know yourname.”
“Jessica. You can just call me Jess, though. Everyonedoes.”
“Jess.” I nod and smile. It suits her. “Nice to meetyou.”
She nibbles on the inside of her lip, her gaze dropping to the one box she’s balanced on her hip. “Well, um . . .I . . .um.”
“Shall we?” I tip my head to the bedroom door past my own. “Afteryou.”
She nods, her smile almost relaxed, and I try not to stare at her bare legs and how damn good her ass looks in the cutoff jeans she’s sporting.Jesus! What’s wrong with me?My brain and good sense are having trouble keeping up today. She’s off limits. I might as well paint a big red X over the back of hershorts.
“You can set them over by the dresser, I think.” She glances around the room, almost as if she’soverwhelmed.
I drop the boxes to the ground and turn to meet those wide doe eyes. “Sorry, it’s not very big.” Sure, this is a decent-sized room with its own bathroom, like every other room in the house, but it’s no apartment. Probably much smaller than what she’s usedto.
Her gaze drops to my boxer briefs, “No it’s ginormous.”Her lips don’t turn up with her joke but I can’t help the laughter that bursts from mybelly.
“I was talking about the room.” I wink and her cheeks stain with a bright pinkhue.
