Page 57 of Broken Bridges

My heart beat loud, like it had been plugged into an amp.

She took two steps back. For a split second, our eyes met. The electricity between us sparked and crackled. But then, she turned. As she limped toward the door, she swayed her sexy ass. Damn. Without looking back, she slipped out of the room.

Fuck!

I clutched a handful of my hair. My dick throbbed. My balls ached.

This nothing was something.

She knew it. I knew it.

But what the fuck was I going to do about it?

Chapter 16

TIA

After having coffee at Flint’s place, Sutton dropped me off at home. She’d invited me to join her and Maddy for lunch, but I had scenes to read.

I made it through one script before concentration eluded me. Stretching out on my bed, I grabbed my cell phone and surfed the Internet, searching for every story about last night. Acid churned in my gut as I read the online gossip articles. They all insinuated I was back to my old wild ways now I was single. Nope...That Tia was dead.

But every time a picture of Lewis and me filled the screen, a fevered rush shot through my system. The heat from his kiss still lingered on my lips. This morning, the embers between us hadn’t gone out. I’d had complicated, messy relationships before, but this thing with Lewis was a whole new level of fucked up.

All logic and reason in my brain computed the facts. He’s gay. He isn’t going to change. I don’t want him to. Move the fuck on.

That was what I planned to do. It was time to find a new direction. Maybe a new career path. But who’d want to employ an injured twenty-three-year-old? The thing was, outside of acting and stunt work, I had no idea what interested me.

While the guys were away on promo for a month, I needed to do some serious soul-searching and Lewis-vibe-killing.

Near midnight, when he and Cole hadn’t arrived home, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. A new ludicrous, hypothetical nonsense of being with Lewis tortured me, causing more havoc than a sixteen-car pileup. Would I be willing to take a chance on him if he was open to the idea of a relationship?

My head was quick to slap some don’t-be-stupid sense into me.

There were too many reasons not to even contemplate the notion—like my brother, the band, my messed up self and past relationship failures. My heart was still too damaged thanks to Phil and Rhett. Lewis was fucking hot and fun to hang out with, but I had too many underlying reservations and doubts. I didn’t want to be a temporary fix, a bit of fun, or a wild fling before he saw logic and realized he was still into men. That he loved them more than he could ever love me.

But what if he was into me?

Ergh! Stop. He isn’t.

I needed sleep.

Maybe some warm milk would help.

After slipping on my robe, I clambered downstairs and headed toward the kitchen. But halfway across the glossy tiled floor, I stopped. Changing course, I shuffled down the hallway toward Cole’s music room. I placed my palm on the door and let out a slow breath. Turning the handle, I pushed the door open, stepped inside, and switched on the downlights. Cole’s huge Pearl drum kit filled the far corner, the golden cymbals glistening in the soft light. His desk was neat and tidy—not a pen or piece of paper was out of place. On the black two-seat sofa, the red cushions were set perfectly in line, and on the shelves, each cord, cable, and mic were stowed in an orderly pile. Neat freak.

I eased onto the sofa, drew a throw over my legs, and scanned the photos of Cole and the guys on the wall, then the framed one on the desk. I grabbed it, sat back down, and ran my fingertips over the glass.

Over Phil.

Heartache crushed my chest.

Why did I always fall for the wrong men? Complicated men. Men with too much fucking baggage. Men who weren’t into women.

Phil. Rhett. Lewis.

I can pick ’em.

The door flew open. I jumped. My heart slammed against my ribs. “Holy shit, Cole. You scared the crap out of me.” I hadn’t heard the car enter the garage.

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