Not About Love (This Love Book 2) Page 2

  While Lou was famous for some tangible accomplishments, his brother gained fame mainly as an Instagram “it” boy.

  That wasn’t all he was famous for. Jackson Boyd Rivers was also a businessman. He owned three CrossFit gyms in New York, and his social media presence had helped his business boom.

  It was clear Lou was proud of his brother, but he wasn’t one to stroke his ego. Unfortunately, everyone else was. Lou’s friends had done nothing but praise him all night. Sure, he was accomplished, but there was no need to fawn over him like that. I might have rolled my eyes once or twice.

  To make things worse, he was damn fine—like impossibly good-looking.

  Jackson Boyd was a fine specimen of a man. He was built. He had a handsome face and a sculpted body—it looked like he worked really hard on it, I had to give him that. He looked as if Michelangelo’s David and The Rock had a kid together and then that kid had grown up to be a bearded hipster with magnificent hair and bedroom eyes.

  I was trying, really trying to be indifferent to him. He honestly didn’t sound like that much of a jerk—a little vain, maybe, but I didn’t know him at all. How could I judge him? I didn’t doubt he was accomplished, but I had always been skeptical of people who were the recipients of constant flattery. Copious amounts of compliments could not be good for anyone’s ego. I could see how easily you would lose perception of reality.

  It happened to celebrities all the time.

  The people we were out with were not even his close friends, but they were all over him—especially the women in the group, which made the whole situation even more uncomfortable. Maybe I was being too judgmental of Boyd. Maybe he wasn’t a pompous ass at all. Maybe he was a nice guy, but I had nothing to base my opinion on. We had only exchanged monosyllables. I glanced his way one more time as he politely turned down a brunette who asked him to dance.

  Hmm. Strange. She was a beautiful girl and looked like she could have been his type: long, wavy, chestnut brown hair, perfect face, perfect makeup, pouty lips, perky breasts, small waist, and an ass that looked like a replica of a certain reality TV star. Her lips turned into a frown as she said goodbye. I saw him stare at her ass as she left. He turned around and caught me staring at him. I looked down, embarrassed, and searched for my phone. I looked at the screen to see what time it was.

  Five minutes until midnight. Time to go, Cinderella. It was time for my subtle exit. I was going to excuse myself and just leave the place. With the mayhem that was about to happen, no one would even realize I was gone.

  “Where are you going?” Boyd asked, startling me with the deep timbre of his voice. Okay, maybe I wasn’t being so subtle.

  “Um, I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

  His eyes met mine, dark and serious, and he gave me a nod.

  He was so intense. I wondered why. Was that a hipster thing?

  For a second, I thought he was going to call my bluff. I needed to move fast. I excused myself and walked away. With the exception of Boyd and a couple sitting next to me, no one else heard me or even glanced my way. I adjusted the strap of my purse across my neck and made my way through the crowd.

  As I looked for the exit, I realized maybe I was being too impulsive. Maybe I didn’t need to leave. Surely there would be a gentleman willing to kiss me, right? I hated the fact that I was behaving so childishly, but there was nothing more depressing than watching everyone around you kiss and hug during Auld Lang Syne while you stood all by your lonesome. For a moment, I almost wished I were in Amsterdam. At least there I’d be with my real friends.

  I looked around me, scanning the crowd and weighing my options. Maybe I could find a random, mysterious gentleman…but after further inspection, I decided to abort that plan.

  Mysterious New Year’s Eve midnight kisser? Forget that. I was completely out of options. The Sahara Desert might have had more suitable candidates. The men around me were either taken, too old, or too drunk.

  I walked toward the doors just as the thirty-second countdown started, but someone grabbed my arm. I closed my eyes, mentally preparing for the worst.

  Great. Now I had to get some idiot off of me. I thought of a sarcastic remark to fire at the idiot, but when I turned around, I came face to face with…Boyd.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, leaning toward me and raising his voice so I could hear him. The musicians on stage with Lou were yelling the countdown, and everyone had joined in. His grip on my arm grew tighter, no matter how much I tried to disentangle myself.

  “I’m going home!” I shouted over the noise. “Let me go!” I tried to pull my arm from his hold.

  “No,” he grumbled with a shake of his head.

  What the fuck?

  “Boyd, let me go…”

  He looked down, as if he was thinking or waiting for something. Why didn’t he let me go? Why did he care whether I left or not?

  Three, two, one…Happy New Year!

  As the entire place erupted into cheers, people around us started kissing, hugging, and yelling at the top of their lungs. The scene happening around me distracted me and made me lose my focus. I forgot about my endangered escape and the man forcing me to stay. A moment later, Boyd pulled my body against his. I only had a second to wonder what was going on before he grabbed my face and brought his mouth down to mine. Our lips touched, and his felt beautiful and perfect under my own. Truth be told, I was surprised I could even feel them. I had never kissed a man with such an impressive beard before, and Boyd’s lips were definitely not lost under all that facial hair. They were warm and had a faint taste of whiskey. I didn’t care. It was the kiss I wanted.

  A New Year’s Eve kiss.

  Only, it wasn’t.

  The friendly, cautious peck on the lips soon changed into something different.

  My lips parted and he wasted no time before teasing my tongue with his, brushing, sucking, exploring my mouth. The kiss didn’t end even after that. It went on, and as it did, he brought me closer to him, pressing me even more against his hard body, his hard everything, kneading the skin of my butt with his glorious, big man hands. Something stirred in my lower areas. Excitement. Arousal. It was all grand, but also extremely dangerous. This guy was no match for me. This could only end in a massive train wreck. I needed to stick to my original plan. I needed to get out of there.

  I broke the kiss and as I opened my eyes, I met his, wild and full of lust.

  His breathing was heavy, his pupils dilated. I could tell he was going to kiss me again, and I wanted him to, but it seemed like an awful, awful idea. His brother was a friend of mine. I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t do complicated. At all.

  “We shouldn’t,” I hesitated. He frowned, and his eyes looked even darker.

  “We shouldn’t or you don’t want to?” he asked in a raspy voice. “If you don’t want to, that’s one thing, and I’ll gladly turn around and leave.” He quickly glanced at his brother on stage and then turned his attention to me.

  “If, however, you think we shouldn’t just because you’re my brother’s friend, I’d tell you we’re both grownups, and as long as you don’t expect anything from me other than a night of pure passion, you won’t be sorry.” He whispered the last words in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

  A smile stretched across my face. His offer was tempting. Wait.

  “I’m sorry, did you just say ‘a night of pure passion’ out loud?” I teased him. I expected a scowl, but was surprised by the playful smirk that appeared on his face.

  I met his eyes and noticed his mood was so much lighter, so different than the person I had hung out with all evening. He licked his lips and I exhaled a loud breath.

  Jiminy Christmas, Ally, get ahold of yourself!

  “I’m going to kiss you again, Ally.” It wasn’t a question.

  He kissed me gently at first. His lips were soft as feathers, but when they parted and found my tongue, he owned me. He possessed my mouth. It was the best kiss I had
gotten in such a long time, and I was defenseless against it.

  I was ready to wave the white flag. I was ready to give in. I was ready to have this man control my destiny for the rest of the night. I felt my resolve dissipating by the second.

  It was so good…and so bad. I needed to leave. Right now.

  At first, I’d wanted to leave because I had no one to kiss, but now I had a handsome, skilled kisser who was making me lightheaded with just the stroke of his tongue, and I still wanted to leave.

  Make up your fucking mind, Ally. Indecisiveness doesn’t look good on you.

  I tried to speak, so I could maybe still excuse myself and leave, but I was too busy catching my breath and staring at him. It was the first time we had been that close, and now that I had taken a good look, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  My brain kept telling me to leave, but my body wouldn’t listen, and my eyes kept studying every detail of his stunning face.

  His perfectly messy hair alone was a panty-melting attribute. Paired with other attributes of his face—his high forehead, the straight nose, and that goddamned luscious beard—made his face a lady-parts slayer. He was impossible to ignore, and I hadn’t even taken his warm, brown eyes into consideration. I got so lost in them that even after I stopped the kiss and tried to pull back, they sucked me back in.

  I broke eye contact and looked down. I needed a moment.

  How had this happened? I was on my way out, and now I didn’t want to go anywhere—not without him.

  You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. He’s just a guy. Leave. You don’t need anyone, especially not someone like him.

  His arms wrapped tighter around me. I felt safe in his embrace, and I couldn’t get over how rock hard his body was.

  I felt something else, too…an impressive something else.

  Nope, I was definitely not leaving, not right then at least.

  Why leave if I could get something out of this? A New Year’s Eve fuck? Yes, please.

  He quickly scanned the place, but we were in a corner of the bar, and everyone was past the point of drunk, too busy and too loud to pay any attention to us.

  He exhaled and finally returned his full attention to me.

  The look he gave me was enough for that last bit of hesitation to fly far, far away.

  It wasn’t a matter of if, it was just a matter of when now. I was just waiting for him to ask the question.

  He lowered his head and kissed me again. It was a slow, seductive one, the one you use to make your intentions known to your lover—only I really didn’t need to know his intentions. I knew them already. I knew his type. Sex, no strings attached.

  It wasn’t just Boyd’s philosophy; it was mine, too.

  “Your place or mine?” he asked in a gruff voice, his breath tickling my ear in the most delicious way.

  A grin spread across my face.

  “Mine. Follow me.”

  I HAD A HABIT OF getting out of bedrooms before they woke up. I was a bit of an escape artist. I never got caught. Despite my height and weight, when it came to sneaking out of a place, I knew how to be extremely quiet. Saying goodbye was always just so fucking awkward. I wasn’t promising anything more than a night of hot, passionate sex, and I told each one of them I wasn’t the type to settle down. I wasn’t even the kind of guy who wanted to have sex with the same person twice, no matter how hot the chick in question was. I didn’t want to establish any kind of connection outside the bedroom. That was how I rolled. That was how it had been for a long time.

  But it never failed: even the coolest of cool girls, the one who promised she was down for “anything” would end up trying to track you down or messaging you even when you hadn’t given her your digits.

  Now I had slept with one of my brother’s good friends. I was sure if he knew, he wouldn’t be thrilled about, but he didn’t need to know, because it was not going to happen again. Something told me Ally was different.

  For one, she lived on the other side of the world, so the chances of bumping into her soon were rather slim. Two, something told me that when it came to sex, she and I were very alike. All through the night, I could tell she wasn’t trying to win me over. She wasn’t trying to seduce me. Pleasure me, yes, but she wasn’t trying as hard as most of the other women did. I wondered if it was due to the fact that she was my age, rather than a twenty-something. I was thirty-six, not old by any means, but I couldn’t deny that most of my conquests were younger. It wasn’t a personal preference, it just so happened that the girls hanging out at the gym were usually in their mid-twenties.

  Plus, women in their thirties weren’t always up for a one-night stand. Sometimes, but not always. Women in their thirties were challenging, and I usually didn’t care for the challenge, didn’t care for the chase. I was just looking for an easy lay.

  I got up from the bed and quietly put my clothes on. I gave Ally a peek, and when I glanced at her, a strange feeling warmed up my chest.

  She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. Her guard was down, for once. A smile stretched across her face, and for a moment I thought she might be awake and trying to play a prank on me.

  But she wasn’t awake. She was asleep. She was dreaming.

  Her hair was splayed across the pillow, her ivory skin peeking out from under the blanket. A rush of blood coursed through my body thinking about the way her skin felt under my hands. I had explored every soft curve of her body that night. I had worshipped her body, fucked her senseless. It was what she wanted. She had told me so herself.

  Fuck me harder, Boyd, she had cried, and I had given her what she wanted. My dick twitched just thinking about when I came inside her—three times.

  I had to get out of there before I did something I’d regret.

  Before I considered staying.

  I finished getting dressed, grabbed my jacket, and gave her one last look.

  That warm sensation in my chest came back, and I felt a knot in my throat.

  What the fuck was that for? Why was I feeling anything for a woman I barely knew? I didn’t want to leave her. It was fucking ridiculous. I came to the conclusion that I must have been drunker than I thought.

  Time to sober up.

  I walked to the door, refusing to look at her again, and closed it behind me as quietly as I could.

  I sent a text to my brother right away. If I knew him even a little, he was probably trying to get rid of his own hangover.

  Bloody Marys at Dutchtown Café?

  I wasn’t even out of the hotel when the phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Fuck yes! Meet you there in thirty?

  Sounds good.

  * * *

  “So, where did you end up? You weren’t at the bar when I got off stage. Did you sneak out with someone?” Lou asked, definitely chipper after downing half a Bloody Mary.

  I grunted and nodded in response, trying to remain vague. I took a sip of coffee.

  “Did you see Ally leave?” I shook my head no and looked down at my plate. “I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. I should’ve told you to keep her company,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “I didn’t think about the fact that she wouldn’t know anyone else there.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine, brother. She’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself.” I took another bite of my eggs, and when I lifted my eyes, Lou was looking at me with a look on his face that seemed halfway disgusted.

  “You know, you could try to care a little more, for once. Maybe I should call her—”

  “Who says I don’t care? I’m sure she’s fine…and please don’t call her.”

  “Why? You don’t like her? She’s my friend.”

  I rolled my eyes and exhaled, trying to figure out how to explain myself. He couldn’t call her, not right then, at least. He was going to invite her over, I’d have to face her, and it would be uncomfortable as hell. No thanks.

  “I never said that,” I replied, grabbing his hand that was already holding the phone. “I leave tow
n today. Can’t I get my little brother to myself? I never get to see you.”

  “Oh, sure…okay,” Lou replied, taken aback. Nice save. “Why are you leaving so soon?”

  “Got things to do up in New York. You know, after you came back from Europe, I thought you were going to come visit more often and hang out in the Big Apple with me.” I gave him a look, and he let out a sigh. His shoulders sank. Hmm. I had thought my brother was over whatever had happened to him in the last few months, but apparently he was still reeling from his trip to Europe. He’d gotten divorced a few months back, and while he and his wife were separated, he’d gone to Europe and fallen in love with a girl.

  I’d teased him about it when he came back over the summer, but apparently he didn’t want to hear it. This Ella girl had done quite the number on him. I could see it on his face he wasn’t over it. My brother always wore his heart on his sleeve. It must have been a family trait; I used to be like that, once upon a time, but I had smartened up since then.

  My brother, however, hadn’t gotten the memo—not even after the way his ex-wife ditched him. He was still a hopeless romantic.

  He straightened in his chair and looked into my eyes again.

  “I can’t come to New York. We’re putting the finishing touches on the record.”

  “When is it coming out?”

  “Pretty soon. It’s just a matter of weeks, really.”

  “So you’re going to do some promo and then you’ll have some tour dates? When do you think you’ll play in New York?”

  “Not sure. I want to go to Europe first.”

  “Because of that girl?” I asked with a laugh.

  His eyes grew cold, his jaw taut.

  “Come on, brother. Cut me some slack, will ya? You know I’m not like you,” I told him.

  Lou let out a breath and seemed to relax a little. He got distracted by something he saw through the window, and he kept his gaze fixated on the street. He cleared his voice.

  “You don’t understand. I need to see her. I was a real ass when we said goodbye.”