The Way Back to Us Read online

  I hung up and flipped the phone onto a side table with a disgusted grunt. Third time in six months my number had gotten leaked. So. Fucking. Annoying. Now I’d need to get a new number, get that new number to everyone who actually needed it—ugh.

  Inevitably my eyes went back to Dani and . . . she was fighting a smile.

  Her lips pinched together and she fluttered a hand at her chest. “Are you the Gavin?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

  “Gavin MacCormack?” She fluttered her eyelashes at me.

  “It’s not funny.” I tried to fight back a laugh.

  “But I’m such a big fan.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, faking a swoon. “Your biggest fan.” She laughed and dodged out of reach as I tried to grab her around the waist, taking shelter on the other end of the couch. “Oh my God, can I get your autograph?”

  I chased her around the couch, ending with us on opposite sides again. She was a fast little thing. “I’m going to kill you,” I managed between laughs.

  “But I lo—” She stuttered. “—love your music.” Her grin went from an easy expression to a pained one.

  My mouth opened and snapped shut when my focus expanded enough to notice we had an audience. Ian quietly passed Felix a beer, his lips quirked in a sardonic smile. Bianca was pretending to search through her purse, badly, Jules was blatantly watching our exchange, Ben was, of course, more interested in Rachel than anything else, and Rachel, bless her heart, was the only one even trying to give us some space.

  Dani flicked a quick glance behind her and visibly tensed. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” everyone replied in unison—everyone except Ben who was finally just cluing in to what was going on.

  I tilted my head to the side. “Let me show you your room.”

  “Alright.” She hugged her duffel bag a little tighter to her chest.

  I led her through the living area and to the wide, sweeping staircase that climbed to the second floor. She kept up with me even though I took them two at a time. We passed two doors before I finally stopped at hers. “This one’s yours.”

  She stepped by me, gaze everywhere like she was memorizing every tiny detail. Gauzy curtains hung on either side of a set of French doors, a modern-looking comforter sprawled across the queen bed, and a decent-sized flat screen hung on the wall over a streamlined dresser. There was a bathroom at the other end of the room, but I could only see the door from where I was standing.

  “My room’s just across the hall.” I gestured at it.

  Her forehead creased. “Your room?”

  My heart kicked up its tempo. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?” All I needed was one word, one word and I’d happily cut all this nonsense right out. Never before in my entire life had I had a woman sprint from my bedroom after sex. Sure, I never allowed overnights with my flings, those were the terms I always set, but this wasn’t just a damn fling. This was Dani.

  Her fingers fiddled with the end of her ponytail and she flicked it away with a loud exhale. “It’s better this way.”

  I tried to bite my tongue, but before I could stop myself I blurted out, “Better for who?”

  “Gavin,” she warned, her lips pinching together.

  “Right, I know.” I relaxed my clenched fists, and forced out my growing irritation. I kept reminding myself that I had to be grateful I was getting anything with her at all. Three steps had me at her side, and if she’d been hesitant about this whole trip, there was only willingness when her lips met mine. I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m gonna head to the pool. Meet you out there?”

  She nodded. “Do you mind if I take a look around?”

  “Have at it.”

  Chapter 16: Dani

  Beach cottage my ass. I leaned against my bedroom door as it clicked closed behind me. Six bedrooms, eight bathrooms, two living areas, a study, an enormous kitchen, not to mention the outdoor kitchen and showers, the pool, cabana, and the steps that led directly to the beach. I could barely even begin to fathom that this was someone’s summer home, a place that was empty more often than not. What a waste.

  As a positive, it would be almost impossible to get cornered in this place. Multiple exits on the first floor, all the windows easily accessible, and four of the bedrooms on the second floor all had balconies. Now that I had the whole place mapped out I felt a smidge more comfortable, then again . . . I wandered over to the French doors and peered out. Down below me Gavin and his friends were taking advantage of the pool and early summer sun.

  Other than work, and my failed attempt at college, I’d never needed to socialize with so many people at the same time. Really have conversations with them. And how was that even possible when the amount of things I could divulge about my past could fit in the palm of my hand? Normally I’d just lie, throw out random stories to fend off a stranger’s curiosity, but with Gavin’s friends . . .

  I rubbed a hand across my forehead and reached for my duffel. I’d managed to find a cheap black bikini on clearance—another withdrawal from my meager savings. I slipped it on and cautiously approached the bathroom mirror. My hand skimmed across my collarbone where it sharply jutted up from underneath my skin, down over my side to my hip. There was some muscle there, but I was more skin and bones than anything else.

  I cringed when my fingertips coasted over my scar. There wasn’t any hiding that monstrosity in a bikini. It wasn’t that I cared what it looked like—hell, I was just ecstatic I’d survived and my dad was handy with a needle—but more that anyone who saw it couldn’t help but ask. And really there was no casual way to drop into conversation that you’d been shot and nearly bled out.

  My fingers closed over the penny hanging against my chest. Chlorine might end up damaging the cord it was strung on, but that was replaceable. The rest absolutely wasn’t. I’d never taken it off before, and I wasn’t going to start then.

  After folding my clothes and placing them in my bag, I snagged a towel from the bathroom and headed outside. A screech and a splash was the first thing that greeted me outside. The blonde—the actress—swiped water out of her face and dove toward Gavin, shoving his head underwater. From the other end of the pool the guy who belonged with her wiped water from his face while laughing at their antics.

  “You can take him, Jules!” One of the other guys shouted, the one with the vibrant tattoos creeping up his right arm.

  Sooner rather than later I’d need to learn their names.

  More laughter ensued when the tattooed guy stalked toward one of the two girls on the sidelines—the brunette from the bar—Rachel. She scooted back on her lounger, her cover-up bunching around her. “Get away from me, Ian.” She pointed her finger at him.

  He just grinned.

  “Ian I swear to—” She squealed as he scooped her up and jumped right in the damn pool with her.

  In all the commotion, no one noticed my arrival. They didn’t notice me leaving either. I could fake it with the best of them, but there was something so genuine, so heartwarming about that scene that I just couldn’t interrupt it with the perpetual black cloud that always hovered above my head.

  With a wistful smile I dropped my towel at the top of the steps and scurried down them. Beach grass waved in the gentle breeze and for a good minute I just stood there—toes in the sand, the salty air teasing my nose, the sun warming my skin. I could still hear their laughter behind me, but now it was mostly drowned out by the crash of the waves against the shore. They called to me, whispering an invitation that had my feet moving forward.

  I shaded my eyes from the sun and quickly glanced both ways down the beach. Some fifty feet away a family played in the shallows, a little girl delicately building a sandcastle. They didn’t even glance in my direction as I made my way through the soft, hot sand. I stopped where the waves could gently lap at my toes, the cold water slipping between them and stealing the sand from beneath my feet.

  Again, a memory tugged at my mind, urging me to pay attention.
I couldn’t imagine what it could be. In all the years Dad and I had crisscrossed the country, we’d never once shacked up in a beachside town. I’d asked about it once and he’d only commented vaguely that being too close to either coast limited how many directions you could run in. Then it’d seemed like a weak excuse, now it still did.

  I sank to my knees, tracing my fingertips through the wet sand. I doodled a tiny heart, taking care with its shape. It was then, as I was looking down at the water washing it away, that the present eroded with it and the past came into focus.

  The memory was hazy at best. There was a tiny pink bathing suit, with ruffles over my hips, tiny, stubby toes wet and covered with sand. A voice, mine, yelling, “Mommy!” as I raced away from an incoming wave. Strong arms scooped me up, spinning me round and round till I felt dizzy. When she set me down we drew pictures in the sand, stick figures and smiling suns . . . and hearts. A kiss pressed against my temples, fingertips sweeping away salt sticky hair, and a voice so sweet and soft, “We did it, Doodle Bug.”

  It went almost as quickly as it came, but when it left I was shaking, cold where I’d once been hot. My eyes burned and a crushing weight settled on my chest. Mom. It was a word I never thought because with it came the only memory I had of her.

  The one memory I’d give anything to forget.

  I hugged my arms tighter around myself. Had it been real? That trip to the beach? I wracked my brain but no other details emerged. It seemed surreal, like a memory I’d borrowed from someone else’s mind. But there was that nickname. And what had she meant? What had we done?

  “Dani.” A shadow joined mine, too big to be Gavin’s.

  I resisted the urge to flinch at his sudden appearance, stepping back so I could look up at him. And I really did need to look up. It was the ass from the bar, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

  His gaze swept me from head to toe, his eyes narrowing as they came back up to meet mine. “I wasn’t sure you were sticking around long enough for that to be necessary.”

  My fingers bit into my skin as they tightened around my hips. “I’m not looking for your life story, just a name.”

  “Ben.”

  “Well, Ben, is there something you need?”

  “What I need is to know what the hell you think you’re doing.” He turned to face me and shook his head. “What game are you playing here?”

  Anger curdled in my stomach, making me flush hot. “I don’t know what—”

  He stepped toward me. “That’s right, you don’t know. But I do. I know what you did to him last time, I was there. I also know you have no plans to stick around this time either. What I don’t know is what you’re getting from this.” His nostrils flared and his voice lowered. “Frankly I couldn’t care less about you. When you leave I can use the wreck you left behind to create a fucking stellar album.” He pointed a finger at me, careful not to actually touch me. “But I want to make sure that you know exactly what you’re doing. When that guy falls apart, when you break him again, it will be your fault.” His lip curled up. “Is it worth it?” He gave me another up-down, his gaze riddled with disgust.

  My chin wanted to tremble, but I forced it up, my gaze as strong as ever. I wouldn’t defend myself. I wouldn’t make excuses. But hell if I was just going to sit here and take it. He’d already taken four steps before I hurled my retort at his back, “You want to talk about playing games? How about the one you’re playing with Rachel?” I smirked at him. “Is that worth it?”

  His expression didn’t even waver; he stared through me like I was as inconsequential as another random grain of sand. He gestured with his chin up toward the sky. “Storm’s rolling in.” A smile snaked across his lips. “Wouldn’t want you to get caught out here in it.”

  Chapter 17: Gavin

  The wind kicked up as I climbed out of the pool, the water sluicing off my body to splash on the ground. Elvis gingerly trotted around me, careful not to get his dainty paws in any of the puddles. His collar jingled as he bounded up the steps and back into the house, trailing at Rachel’s heels.

  Overhead the sky was getting grumpy. Thick fluffy clouds ganged up together over the ocean, the color of them the hue of a fresh bruise. I ran a hand through my hair, looking for the same person I’d been looking for over the past two hours. Where the hell was Dani?

  Ian sauntered over to me, a towel slung around his shoulders. “She still MIA?”

  “Well, she’s not here, is she?” I threw out a hand. The sky wasn’t the only grumpy one in town.

  “You think maybe she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of us? For someone who seems like a bit of a loner, the group of us can seem a bit . . . tight-knit.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “She’s not you, you know.”

  I rewound the last couple of hours—our crazy antics, the seven of us more like a family than a group of friends, roughhousing in the pool. Shit. How had Ian seen something that I’d barely even considered? It didn’t take a stretch of any imagination to put together Dani wasn’t used to our particular brand of comradery. So, of course, me abandoning her upstairs was probably the worst thing I could have done. At the time I’d just been trying to get some space to work out my building frustration, but now I could see what an epically bad decision that’d been.

  This weekend was off to a fantastic start.

  As if that weren’t enough, a rumble sounded in the distance, the wind whipping up again. With it came the reappearance of Ben, his expression stormier than any cloud in the currently roiling sky.

  “Dude,” I shouted. “I promise, your face will not break if you smile.”

  “You see Dani down there?” Ian swiped his towel through his hair, ruffling it.

  He stopped to rinse his feet off. “I told her to head back.”

  Ian’s expression turned calculating. “Is that all you told her?”

  The two of them shared a look. It was one of the few brotherly things they ever did. As long as I’d known Ben, I never felt like I really knew him. The surface stuff—his fierce commitment to us and his family, his pining over Rachel, his head for business and numbers that buoyed the band—was all we really got from him. Only Ian and Rachel got to dig any deeper than that.

  Ben turned and slipped through the French doors without even answering. Ian cursed at my side. “I think my brother may have had some choice words for your girl.”

  I frowned. “For Dani? Over what? She hasn’t even done anything.”

  He shifted on his feet, gaze avoiding looking at me directly. “I think it’s more about what she’s going to do, man.”

  “What she’s . . .” It clicked and I shook my head. “I know what I’m getting myself into. I don’t need you guys to defend me or scare her off or anything.” Shit, what if he had scared her off? Ben was as cuddly as a grizzly bear on his good days. On his bad ones? Holy hell.

  Ian met my gaze. “I hear you, but that doesn’t mean we’re not all worried as hell about how this is all going to go down.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder before following Ben into the house.

  I strode over to the stairs and searched the empty beach for a bright streak of red. Be there, be there, be there. It only took me seconds to find her, zigzagging her way back toward the house. The rush of relief I felt nearly knocked me off my feet. I should’ve known better. This damn girl could hold her own.

  I waved when she looked up and waited for her as she climbed up the stairs. “We missed you at the pool.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I felt a bit like I was breaking up a party, so I just went for a little walk. It’s been forever since I’ve been to the beach.” A strange look crossed her face, swept away almost immediately on the turbulent breeze.

  “You’re more of a city girl?” I rocked back on my heels, hoping she wouldn’t notice me fishing for information again.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Something like that.”

  A fork of lightning sliced through
the sky, a grumble of thunder rolling through. The first fat drops of rain started to patter around our feet. We both glanced skyward and started moving for the house.

  “Ben mentioned he ran into you down there.” I held the door open for her.

  She brushed off her feet before going inside. “Yup.”

  “He say anything . . . interesting?” I shut the door behind us, fighting off a shiver as the air conditioning whispered over my wet skin.

  “He just warned me.”

  I followed her through the empty living room to the stairs. “Warned you?”

  Her fingers trailed up the balustrade. “About the storm.”

  My hand found her hip as we reached the second floor, and I pulled her into my side. “Is that all?”

  She tipped her chin up so she could look at me. A smattering of freckles paraded across her nose and spread out across her cheeks. “Was there something else you were expecting?”

  “Well, no. It’s just that Ben can be a bit . . .” I tried to find a nicer word for asshole. “Surly,” I finished.

  “Gav.” She patted my cheek. “I’m a big girl. Ben’s all bark, no bite. I can take him.”

  I trailed on her heels into her bedroom. “Ben?” I scrubbed a hand through my damp hair. “I mean I’m not denying you’re pretty damn feisty. And that thing you did in the bar? That was impressive. But Ben is like twice your size and—”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but in the matter of one breath and the other my feet left the ground and I fell face-first onto the mattress, hard. My arm was twisted behind my back, not enough to hurt me but enough that I was certainly uncomfortable. A pressure surfaced in the middle of my back. Probably Dani’s knee.

  “Half the time people underestimating me annoys the hell out of me, but the other half I don’t mind because it always gives me an advantage.” The bed bounced as she stood back up. She shook her head. “Gav, believe me when I say I’ve dealt with a lot worse than Ben.”

  I rolled over onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows. I probably should have been more surprised or at least a little shocked, but I’d be lying if I said the majority of me wasn’t turned on. She laced her hands behind her head, her stomach contracting as she blew out a breath. My gaze dropped down to the patch of puckered skin a few inches right of her belly button. Seeing it reminded me of the feel of it beneath my fingertips. Only this time I wasn’t nearly distracted enough not to ask.