No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (19 page)

“Maybe one day,” I conceded.

“Would it kill you to tell him that and make him feel better?”

“It might,” I grumped.

That cracked her up.

“When is X picking you up?” I asked.

“About half an hour. And no, I have no clue where he’s taking me, only that he wants me to wear a skirt. He said it’s nice and casual. And where the hell is Lili?”

“What’s with these dudes and skirts, man?” I huffed.

“Easy access is my guess.”

I pointed at her with an angry finger jab. It seemed I was getting a few of them in today. “Don’t you go fucking him in a restroom for your first time, Alys. Make him at least lay you down and shove his dick in while you’re face-to-face.”

She laughed heartily at that.

I adjusted my toilet paper wad. I fucking bonked my nose good on that wall of chest muscle. It was sore but not broken or swollen at all.

“I guess it wouldn’t kill me to let him know it’s not out of the realm of possibility,” I grumbled at her. “But it just burns me the way it came about, you know?”

“It’s bound to happen now and again.”

Alys looked absolutely adorable in her knee-length jean skirt and black button-down shirt. She went light on the makeup and had her bob all sleek and soft-looking. Gracefully, she sat down next to me on the bed.

“You know he’s probably at home right now, bawling his metal god eyes out, thinking he’s run you off for good,” she said.

“Shit, Alys,” I huffed, feeling a guilty twinge wriggle its way into my chest.

“It’s true. These musicians…they’re so emotional, you know? Even X has squeezed out a few tears. I think they get PMS and shit.”

“How’d you make X cry then?”

“I didn’t. We were watching
Little Women.
”

“Oh, shit!”

We started cracking up, and I accidentally sucked the tissue paper up my nose, which of course made us lose it even harder. I had to go to the bathroom and extract the wad out with my tweezers, which created a new trickle of blood.

“Damn it,” I hissed. “That’s it. I think I need a few drinks tonight.”

“No doubt,” said Alys.

When X picked up Alys, I gave Lili a call as I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to prove to Phil that I was just as much of a nut as he was. I just happened to be able to conceal my mental instability rather well, and I balked at the thought of anyone witnessing my craziness. But whatever. If he could proudly go around letting people know he was off his rocker over me, then the least I could do was show him in private that I felt the same about him.

“Hello?” answered Lili after the third ring.

“Bitch! We’ve been worried sick!”

“You have not!” she scoffed. “I’m with Lewis at The Duck Pond.”

“While he’s working?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I gotta go—”

“All right. Call me later if anything.”

“Will do,” she said and hung up.

Looking at the screen on my phone, I found nine missed calls and twelve text messages.

“Fucking nutjob! I said to give me some space!” I snarled at the phone as I snapped it shut. I found what I had been looking for and shoved it in my bag before heading back over to the nutter’s house.

It was already dark outside as I made my way across the backyard. The patio light was on, a small halo of insects whirring around it, guiding me toward my Phil-sized slice of humble pie. I was still a little pissy even though
I
had hurt
him—again.
But really, I’d
just given him a fucking key to my house and let him restrain me while fucking my brains out.

One step at a fucking time, man!

The living room light was off in his half, but I saw the flickering of the massive TV. The closer I got, I could make out his solitary figure on the couch. And he looked fucking
devastated
, completely miserable. For a few minutes, I stood by the back door, unnoticed.

He was just so…
yeah
, he was my fucking everything—my reason for waking up in the morning, the warmth and safety that held me every night. He was my dream come true. Phil was my match, my daily challenge, and my sole reason for existing at all.

All he’d wanted was to hear me say I would marry him and give him children. He hadn’t asked for it tomorrow or next week or even next fucking year. He’d only wanted to know that he wasn’t alone in wanting to have that with me. Instead, I had hurt him, this incredible, gorgeous massive man. I wasn’t even sure
why.
I only knew that I had felt cornered, and I’d lashed out, trying to establish some sort of control over my own emotions.

Damn it.

Suddenly, his sad eyes swung over in my direction. He just sat there and stared. I knew I might have caused some irreparable damage, and my heart simply ached to find a way to mend it. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from bursting into tears, and I pressed my palm against the glass, silently begging him to forgive me, to let me back in.

Slowly, he got to his feet and came over, opening the door. It hadn’t been locked.

“Phil,” I whispered brokenly, a sob catching in my chest.

“Yeah?”

I looked down and opened my bag, pulling out a tattered notebook that I used to write poems and short stories in when I was a junior in high school. They were all poems and short stories I’d written about
him
, the secret fantasies I’d had of Phil. The poems he himself had inspired my ridiculous teenage heart to write. Slightly mortified by what I was doing, my hand shook as I held it up for him.

“Of course I want to marry you and have your children one day. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted that with.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his tone flippant, his eyes hard.

Oh, wow…that hurts.

I stared at the bloodstain on his shirt, and my nose throbbed in pain for a second. Then, that pain spread throughout the rest of me, and I found it hard to control the trembling working its way through my whole body. I took a deep breath and located my balls.

Looking up into his eyes, I saw something stirring in there, something I feared I had killed.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice cold.

Abject humiliation.
“It’s yours, whatever it is,” I replied.

He opened it, not stepping aside to let me in or anything.

The first page was an artful rendition of our names entwined with hearts and doodles of
Kenna Deveraux
and all sorts of embarrassing girlie shit.

“I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, Phil. You’re the
only
thing I’ve ever wanted for myself. Even when I couldn’t in my right mind use my birthday wish for us to be together because I wished for my mother to live, you were what I truly wanted,” I told him, the tears spilling over now. “My heart and soul wished that I could be yours even though my head screamed at me to save my mother’s life. I wanted to believe I was a good person and that I could give up my own desires for someone else, but in the end…I’m so happy you came true—not that I actually believe in that sort of shit…but still.”

His eyes met mine, and they were blazing at me, searing me deep to my spiritual core.

“But now that you’ve changed your mind…” I choked and took a step back, my heart shrieking at me to get the hell out of there before I lost everything that I was.

He grabbed the front of my shirt, bunching the material in his fist, and hauled me toward him into the house, his mouth seizing mine in a desperate kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, staking a brutal claim.

“How stupid can you be, Kenna?” he whispered harshly, his lips forming the words against mine. “I’m
never
lettin’ you go.”

“Then, why—”

“Because you needed to feel what you made me feel!” he snapped, tossing the notebook aside. He wrapped an arm around me while the other released my shirt and reached up, spearing his fingers through my hair, holding me right where he wanted me.

I was just so fucking happy that he really hadn’t changed his mind, that I was in his arms as he was in mine while we pawed at each other like wild beasts. With a deep growl, he lifted me by my ass and dropped to his knees so that I was sitting on him, chest to chest, and he fisted his hand into the hair at the back of my head. Right there, next to the open door.

Angling my face slightly, he pressed his lips to my ear. “When I fuckin’ propose to you, Kenna, what are you gonna tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna marry me one day?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna give me children?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“You’re the
only one
I’ll have that with,” he told me, his voice husky and raw. “If I can’t marry you, if you don’t give me my babies, then I won’t have any. Do you understand?”

I nodded, but I really didn’t. Other women could most definitely give him children. I would kill them all if they tried, but that was beside the point.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of it, of havin’ a family with you…
only
you
.
I want those children,
our
children. If I can’t have
them
, then I don’t want any.”

A shiver danced its way down my spine.

“I just wish…” I whispered, closing my eyes, not wanting to say something wrong.

“You wish…” he prompted.

“I just wish you had…asked. Demanding that of me, trying to make me tell you I was going to marry you and have your kids, freaked me out.”

He hugged me tight and buried his face in my hair. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“I had it comin’.” He sighed. “Sometimes, I just want what I want, and I’m used to gettin’ it by just sayin’ it. But not with you. You treat me like a regular human being, you know? You call me out on my shit. I need my ass handed to me every now and then.”

Clinging to him as though my life depended on it, I whispered, “I love you.”

His lips caressed over my ear. “I love you, too. So much, I think I might be slightly insane.”

“Something like that.”

“I think I could use a drink,” I told Phil. “Do you want to go out?”

I was fishing through my gym bag for my dark green knit hat that looked like an inflated octopus head. Stuffing my hair in it, I pulled out some bangs to frame my face.

Giving me a sweet grin, his dimples making an appearance, he replied, “Sure. Where to?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a show, and I think there are some good bands playing at Bougainvillea tonight. You up for something like that?”

“You wanna go to Bougainvillea?” His eyes sparkled, making him look boyishly adorable.

“Yeah. I usually go on Fridays.”

“We can do that.” He smiled as though there were some secret he wasn’t sharing with me. “Let me just make a few calls first. Do you want Sheri and Jason to join us?”

“Oh, um…well, no. I’d like it to be just us really.”

He beamed his Lady Killer at me. “Too fuckin’ right.”

Lucky for me, I’d brought a pair of old green Chucks, so there was no need to schlepp back home to get decent footwear.

Phil stepped out of the room, cell phone in hand, and made whatever calls he felt he needed to. I guessed it was about security or some such shit although he hadn’t needed anything of the sort so far. But then again, we’d gone to the farmers market, a fancy restaurant, and a jazz club. Bougainvillea was where NOLA’s Junk had signed their record deal. They were well-known there.

“Cab should be here in about twenty minutes,” he said, still smiling upon his return.

“What are you grinning at?”

“Just happy, I guess.”

“It’s more than that. You’ve been all weird-happy since I mentioned Bougainvillea.”

He flopped back on the bed next to me. “I really haven’t been back since that night. I guess I should’ve made the trip. I found you there once. Chances were pretty good I would’ve found you there again.”

“At least three Fridays a month, yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a hangout of ours. Some people frequent bars and clubs. We frequent music venues, Bougainvillea in particular. It’s close to home, a really good crowd, really hot bartenders—”

“Oh, really?” he snarked, giving me an arched brow.