Logan was already moving toward the house, Emily tucked into his side.
“And if I don’t?”
He kept walking and Emily looked over her shoulder and mouthed, “Don’t go there.”
I yelled, “Logan! What do you mean you’ll bury it?”
“He means he’ll lock the two of you in a closet until you make up or kill one another, sugar.” The corners of my lips curled up as I heard the familiar voice. “He’s already pissed about the Ream scenario, thinks it will cause shit in the house, and he hates anything that might upset his Mouse. Now, where is that sweet ass I’ve missed groping for eight months?”
Crisis strode toward me with his boyish grin and bouncing blond curls. He picked me up in a bear hug, swung me around, then threw me over his shoulder, and slapped my ass. “Looking f**kin’ hot. Damn I missed this ass.”
“What about my ass?” Georgie yelled from the other side of the car where she was chatting with Kite, the drummer.
Crisis asked, “Deck around?” I shook my head and Crisis smiled and turned to Georgie. “Shit yeah, baby. Missed that one too.” Georgie wiggled her butt, and Crisis groaned then spanked me hard, put me down, and kissed me right on the lips. No tongue, just hard and quick.
“Miss me?” he asked.
I did. Crisis and I may not be interested in one another sexually, but we had a strange connection. It was as if he could act completely himself with me and not worry I’d kick his ass for being an arrogant male chauvinist pig. Crisis may be a cocky smart-ass, but I understood him.
Georgie chatted enthusiastically with Kite, who was getting the bags out of the back of Crisis’s car. “Hi, Kite.”
“Kat,” he called and winked. Kite was like the rest of the guys, over six feet, sexy, hot, and yet his personality was completely different. The pierced, tatted drummer was a sweetheart, a gentleman, and rarely got upset or mad at anyone. He kind of balanced out the band with his sweetness. “I’d wash your mouth out with bleach after letting that ass**le kiss you.”
I laughed and Crisis took the opportunity to try and kiss me again, but I shoved him back. He chuckled then grabbed me around the waist, and we started toward the house.
***
Chapter Two
“The Reamster has been the biggest prick. I swear he’s had a boner for you since we left. You know what it’s like having a boner for that long?” Crisis continued without letting me answer. “I swear if he doesn’t get laid soon, I’m paying some chick to tie him down and screw him.” He tugged me closer. “You up for it?”
I rolled my eyes, laughing, then quickly moved the conversation away from Ream, because really, I didn’t want to imagine him screwing any chick. “Meet any nice girls to take home to mommy, pretty boy?” I knew full well he met plenty of girls as we’d texted a few times a week since he’d been gone. Crisis had told me that he had every intention of taking advantage of being the sexy blond bass guitarist.
“Fuck yeah. Some nice, some dirty …” Crisis clucked his tongue, his fingers squeezing my waist. “Damn, it’s like getting your pick of your favorite model car every night and each one rides completely different. A few not so smooth and some need detailing and a f**kin’ oil change.”
I smacked his chest. “Gross.”
Despite my apprehension on seeing Ream again, I was glad to have Emily and the boys back. It had been far too quiet in the house and I’d ended up staying a few nights a week down at my brother’s condo just to be around people. Plus it was close to the gallery, and if Lance wanted to take me for dinner or lunch, then I was downtown already.
When we walked into the kitchen, Emily caught my eye and I knew exactly what she wanted … to talk away from the boys.
She kissed Logan then whispered something to him and pulled away. He snagged her hand before she managed two steps, yanked her back, hooked his arm around her waist, and kissed her again. There was no question the guy was smitten. I really never had any doubts, but even after eight months he still looked completely obsessed … and possessive … and in love.
Emily and I went to her and Logan’s room and sat on the floor, our backs against the foot of the bed, shoulders touching, ankles crossed.
“So, tell me. What’s happening between you and this Lance guy.”
I shrugged. Lance had purchased the art gallery I had my work displayed in. I’d thought he’d ask me to remove my pieces, but instead he asked for more.
He said he owned two galleries in New York, although he knew little about art in my opinion. He was a martial artist, charming, a gentleman, and I liked him. Matt was on the fence about him, and Georgie thought he had a pickle up his ass, but since he was hot, that cancelled out the pickle … unless he sucked in bed. “You told Logan.”
“Yeah. He knew something was up when I kept taking my calls behind closed doors. He doesn’t like closed doors between us and secrets even less. I caved the second he called me on it. Sorry. I know you wanted to keep it quiet until you knew whether it was going anywhere. So, is it going anywhere?”
“I like him. I mean he has the potential for being Haagen Dazs quality and he’s really nice.”
“Nice? Kat, nice? You know what nice means.”
We both said at the same time. “He lacks—Need. Infatuation. Craving. Excitement.”
I sighed. “Yes. But I had that and look where it led me.”