Hangovers and Holidays (Untouchable Book 5) Read online

  Stiff didn’t begin to cover it.

  The door wasn’t all the way closed, so I just eased it open and headed for the bathroom. The apartment was pretty quiet. There was every chance the guys had to go home and deal with things. It took me a minute, but I’d gotten good at going to the bathroom with only one hand to pull my panties down and up—thank God. I never wanted to have to ask the guys for help on that one again.

  No thank you.

  After, I brushed my teeth and pulled a comb through my hair. My eyes still had bruises, and I looked like slightly warmed-over crap.

  Ugh.

  I checked the living room, but it was empty save for the cats. Tiddles looked up from his perch on the sofa, but he went back to staring out the windows and I left him to it. There was a note on the fridge.

  Went for food and errands. We’ll be back soon.

  Okay, so I wasn’t wrong. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water. I was hungry and there weren’t any leftover tacos. The guys had probably decimated anything left and I didn’t feel like fixing anything, so I just headed back to the bedroom.

  Maybe I should do homework or text the guys or something, but three things hit me on the way there. One, I was still really freaking tired and I hurt. Two, I had zero idea where my phone was. I probably left it in Jake’s SUV. Third, and most important, Ian was still in my bed.

  It wasn’t until I set the glass of water on the nightstand and eased back into the bed that I realized Ian’s eye was open. One eye, the other was mostly swollen shut. I winced, and he reached out a hand to me as I slid back down to the pillows, shifting to shove one under my right wrist before rolling onto his side with a wince of his own. I stared up at him and frowned as I touched two fingers to the puffiness on his cheek.

  “I should have gotten you ice.”

  “I can get it in a minute,” he told me. “I’d rather have you here.”

  A smile pulled at my lips. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded slowly.

  He glanced from me to the room then back. “Where are the guys?”

  “Errands. Food. Note on the fridge said they’d be back.” There hadn’t been an actual time on the note, and I was pretty sure it was almost five, based on what the clock on the stove said. “I don’t know when they left.”

  “Jake went home at noon,” Ian told me, his deep, melodic voice soothing. “He said he’d be back, but he wanted to make sure he and his mom were okay. She didn’t give him any kind of hell for the fight.”

  Relief swarmed through me.

  “Don’t know about Arch or Coop, they were both asleep when Jake left.”

  I nodded. We hadn’t gone to sleep until after eight in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept most of the day.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “What about me?” He tried to lift his eyebrows, then winced, and I cupped his bruised face gently. He leaned into my palm. “Your hand is cold. That feels good.”

  I chuckled. “Usually it’s my feet.”

  “No, your feet are usually blocks of ice, but your hands vary some. Right now, cool feels good.”

  That was something. “You said Jake wanted to check in with his mom. I was asking about your parents. They didn’t seem mad but…are they really okay with…?”

  “Me getting into a fight with a bunch of bullies who wanted to hurt you?”

  They’d wanted to hurt him, too, but I just nodded.

  “They’re fine. Dad usually gives me his try to talk people down speech or at least try a diplomatic approach first. He didn’t bother. Not after he heard my full statement.” Ian rubbed his bruised cheek against my palm as he gave me a wry grin. “Mom was a little more bloodthirsty, she asked me if I kicked their asses.”

  It was hard to picture Sara asking that question or even being bloodthirsty. She was a nurse. Still… “I think the answer to that is yes.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “So, they’re good with me. Not thrilled I had to be questioned, but right now, I’m not facing any charges and they say it looks pretty clearly like self-defense. There are more people to be questioned. Archie’s attorney is pretty great.”

  “I like ‘im,” I admitted. “He’s done really right by me. Did you know he got a restraining order for Mitch?”

  “Nope, but glad to hear it. He violated it.”

  I sighed.

  “Angel, you need one of your pain meds?”

  I shook my head. “No, well…probably yes. But I haven’t eaten, and I don’t really want to take one right now.”

  He frowned, then winced. That had to suck. Those bruises would get worse before they got better.

  “Ice.” He opened his mouth, but I shook my head and pointed at him. “Ice. You’re hurting, and those are swelling.”

  “Stay here?” The question melted me. “I want… I like talking to you like this.”

  “I promise. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  The heartbreaking smile on his face had me curling my toes under the blanket. With care, he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. It was a blink and you miss it kiss, and then he sat up with a hell of a lot more ease than I had. “I’m holding you to that.”

  He glanced back at me before he disappeared up the hall. A little thrill went through me. The shift between us had become tangible. It was different from before, deeper somehow. I couldn’t really put my finger on it. He wasn’t gone long, but he’d made a stop in the bathroom on his way to the kitchen. He came back with his own glass of water, a couple of sodas, and a package of Pop-Tarts.

  I was surprised. I didn’t think I had any left.

  “I hid these,” he told me as he settled back on the bed, and I squirmed to sit up next to him. “Tucked them up with the tea. Figured the guys would never look there.”

  I snickered. Because, he wasn’t wrong. He popped open the sodas and offered me one. I took a sip and set it on the nightstand next to my water before facing him again. He got the foil open and passed one of the strawberry frosted ones to me, and I took a bite, grinning at him as he took his own. When I nodded to the ice pack, he didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he did lift it up to his face, and I nodded.

  “Better.”

  “Okay, now that we’re done fussing over my face, can we talk?”

  “I thought we were talking,” I teased before taking another bite.

  He snorted. “Angel…”

  “I’m right here.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  I sighed. All things aside—beatings, nightmares, Mitch, the cops, therapy—I was feeling pretty good right now. “You said you’d do anything for me.” I enunciated each word carefully. We’d been talking before everything went to hell, he agreed to the rules, to a night of dancing and even to karaoke—though admittedly, Ian singing was no hardship for either of us.

  “I did. I know I have a lot of ground to make up with you, but I meant it when I said I’m in. I want to go out with you, buy you flowers, spend time with you, whether it’s in the studio doing vocal work or on the bike when you’re healed up. I want you.”

  Heat swept through me.

  “When I told you I’d do anything for you, you were about to say something when that asshole showed up.”

  I had.

  He stared at me intently. “Tell me what you were going to say?”

  “It seems kind of awkward now.” I stuffed another bite of Pop-Tart in my mouth to buy myself some time. During his confession, I’d wanted to believe him so badly. But I was scared. I hated that feeling of uncertainty and fear that it would all just blow up again. It really fucking hurt the first time, and it had been so damn hard to try and stay friends.

  I really didn’t want to lose him.

  “Nothing you say to me is going to be that awkward, I promise.”

  I snorted. Then, you know what, fuck it. “I believe you, but the thing is…you said everything you’ve written lately has been inspired by me.”<
br />
  He nodded, watching me closely. Unlike me, he wasn’t eating his food, he wasn’t doing anything—just studying me. “It has been.”

  “You gave me that song.”

  “I did.”

  I swallowed, ‘cause this was the awkward part and it really sucked that I had to tell him this. “I’ve been too chicken to listen to it.”

  “Okay.”

  That was it. Just okay? I focused on him again. “You’re not mad?”

  “C’mon, Angel. I recorded that for you as a gift…and maybe a bit like a personal plea. Would I have preferred you listen to it? Sure, but…you’re listening to me now.”

  He shifted and put his Pop-Tart away and got another drink, and I took a bite as I turned that over in my head. Then he faced me again with his phone in his hand.

  “And I can play it for you, if you want to hear it.”

  I did.

  But what did it say about me that my stomach bottomed out at the offer? Even as the butterflies in my gut started beating their wings at supersonic speeds.

  Fuck being afraid of it.

  “Yes, please.” Course the crumbs escaping when I spoke had me clapping a hand over my mouth as Ian chuckled. His eye softened, and his other eye opened a little wider. The ice was definitely helping, but it wasn’t working a miracle. He was going to need more than just that. Easing closer to me, he lifted his arm and eyed me. “This okay?”

  It took me a beat, more because I was kind of embarrassed about spitting out food than I was anything else, but I leaned forward and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Mindful of my new bruises, he curled me back against him, and I sighed as I settled in. He found the list of songs on his phone and then cued up the one he sent me.

  The title got me.

  Keep Breathing.

  The opening bars of the music strum beautifully on the guitar. Having been to the studio, I had to wonder if he recorded it there, because there was a second base line just below the guitar, like he was playing both parts and laid the tracks down together. It was a sweet invitational, almost folksy in the way it beckoned a person to sit down and listen.

  Gradually though, it gave way to something deeper and almost haunting. Then his vocals came through like liquid gold, his voice deep and mesmerizing. Those haunting melodies turned almost enchanting with the song he wove about waking every day a little bit darker, like the light was gone. It would be almost too much, except the light wasn’t a person, it was what that person did for him.

  She saw the light in him and encouraged it.

  She.

  Me.

  I was the one who encouraged his music and loved to listen to him. Now that he was alone with the notes, they were the only thing he had to remind him of what she’d seen in him. The song took me on a journey, but at the heart of it, was the fact that I’d broken up with him.

  Tears burned in my eyes as he admitted it was his own fault, but he wanted the light back. He wanted me to believe in him again. He wasn’t perfect. He might never be. But he would be the best he could, if it would get him a second chance. Until then, he’d just keep breathing.

  I had to suck on my upper lip to keep the tears from falling. It was beautiful.

  Oh, I didn’t know if I could have handled listening to this before when he’d given it to me. It about broke my heart now, and I’d already said yes to that second chance, maybe not in those exact words but…

  The song ended, and I sniffed. My throat ached as I swallowed around the lump and then looked up at him.

  “Yes,” I said before I could overthink it or he said anything else. He clicked the screen off on the phone and dropped it into his lap. “Yes, I’ll give you a second chance, if you give me one.”

  He closed his eyes, and a whole body shudder rocked him. I didn’t know if he curled me up to him or if I tugged him down, but he kissed me. His lips were as warm and firm as I remembered, even if one corner of his mouth was still a little swollen.

  When he winced, I started to pull away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Fuck that,” he whispered. “Hurt away.” Then he clamped his mouth down on mine far more firmly as he slid his battered fingers around my nape. I shifted and clung to him. It took some maneuvering, and we were both wincing.

  “Ow,” I said as I managed to half straddle his lap. My Pop-Tart ended up somewhere. I’d find it later. He grimaced as he adjusted me, and my cast landed on his battered shoulder. “Sorry.”

  Chuckling, he kissed the tip of my chin. “I’m not.” Then he kissed me again, slow and lingering. It was like our first kiss in the pool, without the sun and the damp but with the addition of the bruises and the cuts. Laughter swelled through me as he groaned, and I wanted to nip his lower lip, but I didn’t dare. He gripped at my hip, and I let out a hiss of breath, so he slid his hand up my side.

  When he sucked against my tongue, I hummed a little happy note, and he dragged his other hand up into my hair. With care, he angled my head so he could deepen the kiss, and I dug the fingers of my left hand into his chest. Another pained groan escaped him, and I pulled back. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not,” he repeated in between little huffs of laughter. I met his gaze, and we both cracked up. “This is not how I imagined kissing you again.”

  “No,” I told him. “I didn’t dare imagine it. Even when I wanted to.” A little part of me felt like a hypocrite. I’d missed the hell out of him. Missed being close and having the right to kiss him or to hold him and just be. But I hadn’t been alone.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said in a throaty voice. “Stop.”

  “I just—”

  “Stop.” Then he tipped my chin up. “I mean it. I missed this. I missed you.”

  “Even though you were right there,” I agreed with him. “I missed you, too.”

  He sighed and then rested his forehead against mine. “No more missing each other.”

  A lopsided grin stole across my face, even as I fought to suppress it. “Kind of hard to miss you when I’m sitting in your lap.”

  The slow grin curling the corners of his mouth had me shivering. That, and the erection very quickly firming beneath my ass. If I wasn’t so damn sore and achy and he wasn’t so bruised, I’d be tempted to tease him a little. As it was, it seemed like a very nice promise for the future.

  “Hurting?” he checked.

  “A little.” As much as I was loath to admit it. “You?”

  “Yeah, a little.” He dipped his gaze to my lips, even as he combed his fingers through my hair. “We could just sit here and rest.”

  “You do need to ice your face.” The ice pack was currently somewhere on the bed, probably hanging out with my abandoned Pop-Tart.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed, then ran his tongue over his lower lip. “You should be elevating that arm and eating something so you can take some pain meds.”

  “Probably, though…” I traced a finger against the collar of the t-shirt he wore. “The guys are bringing back food.”

  “True.”

  We considered each other. “They could be back any minute.” It was heading right in to evening.

  “Could be hours,” Ian countered.

  “Could be,” I leaned in and pressed a kiss to the uninjured corner of his mouth. His lips twitched. “Does this hurt?”

  “No.”

  Another kiss. “What about here?”

  “No.”

  “Here?”

  “No.”

  I grinned and nuzzled his jaw. “This looks like it’s a safe spot.” I worked my way to his ear, but he tugged my hair and I leaned back, only to have him swoop down and kiss me, all lips and tongue. A groan vibrated from one of us.

  Maybe both.

  When he let me up for air, I said, “We could just make out until they get home.”

  One moment, I was on his lap, and the next, he had me lying down and stretched out next to me. “This okay?”

  I slid a thigh up so he could settle more firmly
against me. He stuffed a couple of the pillows so they were supporting us better, then we fixed on each other.

  “This is perfect,” I sighed before he kissed me again. He strained against me, and I winced, scraping his lower lip with my teeth.

  “Ow,” we said in unison, and then his laughter chased mine as he kissed me again.

  Perfect.

  Chapter Four

  Pocketful of Sunshine

  Monday arrived way too soon, and I don’t think any of us were ready to go to school. I wanted to insist Ian and Jake stay out and rest, but they both just gave me a kiss and headed out for practice, bruises and all. At least Ian’s other eye was open now.

  “Don’t worry,” Coop said as they walked out the door. “The other guys look way worse.”

  Archie groaned. “Fuck the other guys.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “No thank you.”

  They both glared at me, and I stuck my tongue out at them before I limped my way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. My hip and shoulder hated me way more today than they had the evening before. Somehow, we’d managed to have a really good evening, and I got a solid hour of just making out with Ian. Thankfully, whatever ration of crap the guys might have given us, they saved for when I was out of earshot. Or maybe they were as relieved as I was.

  For the first time in what seemed like weeks, it felt right. Bumps and bruises aside. I’d slept without a single nightmare.

  Who knew that breaking Sharon’s nose could be therapeutic?

  When I made the mistake of mentioning it aloud, laughter followed me along with Jake promising that if I wanted to keep belting people, he wanted to make sure I had the right technique. Coop rolled his eyes and insisted I knew exactly what I was doing. I didn’t need any lessons, even if Ian looked thoughtful and Archie suggested a bodyguard. That launched Ian and Jake both into insisting they would be more than happy to guard my body.