Dmitri
Nine days.
Nine days have gone by since Eric cornered me in that storage room. Since the aggression and goddamned desperation of his kiss, the heat and hardness of his body, and the way he fit against me like the missing piece of my soul.
Nine fucking days since I lost my mind watching him walk away.
I was right behind him, but in the seconds it took for me to snap into action, he fled. Even after I jumped in my truck and raced after him, he was long gone.
Four calls and seven text messages were left unanswered and unread. If Dante hadn’t specifically insisted Eric keep my number unblocked, I’d think he’d just cut me off and severed my means of contacting him.
As it is, he’s content to simply ignore me instead, which is light-years worse.
Anger and frustration dig into me like thorns when I relive that night, but they take a backseat to the clawing desire to have him in my arms.
I crave him.
And Eric?
He’s completely ignoring me.
Again.
For the second time in my life, I find myself consumed by this maddening man who loves nothing more than to give me the cold shoulder.
He's strategic during practice, always positioning himself among the group and making it impossible for me to catch him alone.
He uses them as a shield, hiding behind safety in numbers.
We had another gig a few nights ago, but my original tactic didn’t work. As desperate as it was, I volunteered to return the equipment, but the studio was empty and the gear packed into Eric's SUV was missing. When I showed up for practice today, it was magically all there again.
He waited me out, and it's killing me that he won’t talk to me.
Prior to that night in the storage room, the giant question mark of his resentment already gnawed at me.
But now?
Now that I’ve felt the heat of him under my palms, tasted the salt and fire of his kiss, and come with his name tearing from my lips?
I’m locked in perpetual hysteria. Long-subdued emotions have broken free, refusing to be tamed as they drag me through a constant hot and cold. My once iron-clad control is precariously hanging on. My temper is on a hair trigger and sleep has become nothing more than an elusive concept.
Maybe I’m actually going crazy. I'd believe it, with what he does to me.
Eric stands across the parking lot, chatting with Tai and Theo as I climb into my truck. His posture is relaxed as he laughs at something Tai says, then responds with a smile that spans his face. He doesn't have a care in the world, while I'm shaking like a junkie in need of a fix.
Eventually, he climbs into his SUV, and I don’t allow myself to second-guess it as I fall in line behind him. I keep a cautious distance between us, careful not to lose sight of him in the hazy glow of dusk. Trying not to think about the obsessive tendencies I’m showing right now, I follow.
What’s some light stalking among friends, after all?
When he pulls into a convenience store parking lot, I turn behind him and park a few rows away. Doubt and guilt wage war in my head as I absentmindedly rub my thumb over my wrist.
“What the fuck are you doing, Dmitri?” I groan under my breath as I shove my hands through my hair.
This isn’t me.
I don't do things like this.
But the light catches on the golden waves of his hair, and I can’t find it in myself to be sorry. He disappears inside, but my indecision keeps me rooted in place. Six agonizing minutes pass as I debate whether to confront him or leave with my pride intact.
Movement catches my eye as he leaves the store, and the high-pitched squeal of his name rings through the lot. A tall brunette woman dashes toward him, causing his head to snap up in surprise. A grin spreads across his face as he pulls her into a hug.
Eric's smile is genuine, brilliant in the dying light, and the sight pierces my heart as I realize it’s never directed at me.
Not like that, missing its bite.
My heart sinks at the ease with which he carries himself, and my jealousy digs deeper. The girl beside him laughs effortlessly, and playfully reaches for his arm as they chat. He seems comfortable with her touch, and she doesn't make any effort to hide her interest.
My feet hit the asphalt before I register what I’m doing, tiny rocks crunching under my soles as I take a purposeful step forward. She touches him again, and the sight of her hands on him sends me into a rage.
I have no right to feel this way. Eric has made it abundantly clear he doesn't want me. I don’t have any claim to him or his time, but I can’t stand someone else touching what doesn’t belong to them.
His eyes meet mine over her shoulder and flare in surprise.
“Eric!” I say, forcing a smirk onto my lips as I attempt to look less murdery.
The girl whips in my direction, but I don’t look at her as I approach. My eyes are unblinking on his until I’m standing right beside him. The twitch under his left eye tells me how pissed he is, but he won’t lose his cool.
Not in front of someone else.
No, that loss of control is reserved only for me.
“Dmitri.” He forces my name out before glancing back at the girl. “Do you know Caroline? She went to NCU with us.”
At last, my gaze shifts toward her, and her too-pretty face triggers an impulse to punch something. She lights up with recognition, but there's no room in my head for anything other than him.
“Oh my gosh,” she says with a nod, “of course I remember you! I can’t believe the two of you are still friends after so many years.”
“I know, isn’t it amazing?” I drawl, and Eric’s jaw ticks.
Awkwardness hangs in the air as I stare at her, and eventually her eyes dart between me and Eric. Her body language makes it clear she wants me to leave, but I don't give a fuck.
I'm not going anywhere.
“Well,” she finally says, her full attention returning to Eric.
“It was so good to see you again. I’ve been following your band for years.
You’re incredible. Maybe we could get together while I’m in town and…
catch up.” The way her eyes shamelessly roam over his body makes my blood boil and tints my vision in shades of red.
My arm slides around him, fingers digging into his shoulder as I pull him against me. He’s tense, and his anger simmers so close to the surface, I'm surprised he hasn't erupted.
“That sounds like such a good idea, doesn’t it, Eric?”
His face tilts up at the same time mine tips down, and fury gleams in every emerald and gold facet of his eyes.
“Oh,” Caroline says in a quiet exhale.
I bite my lip as I twist my head back to her, probably looking like a goddamned psycho. I certainly feel like one.
“I didn’t realize…” she says apologetically, though her disappointment rings loud and clear.
In my peripherals, Eric takes a deep breath before he turns to face her again. “Caroline, it’s not…”
“No, no, it’s fine,” she insists, her smile forced. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised. It was obvious you two were head over heels for each other back then.”
I twist toward Eric, nudging his ear with my nose. “Hear that?” I murmur, relishing how he shivers against me. “It was obvious how crazy you were for me.”
His face is blazing as I press a kiss to his temple, then turn to find her grinning like an idiot. “Well, I better get going. It was great to see you both.” She gives us one last smile and a cheerful wave before she walks into the store, leaving me out here as a third wheel to Eric and his wrath.
He grabs my wrist and drags me around the side of the building until we’re shrouded in shadows. “What the fuck was that, Dmitri?” he hisses. “Are you following me now?”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just talk to me,” I retort.
“There’s nothing to talk about!”
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Eric!” I shout, grabbing him by the back of the neck and tilting him toward me. “The way you kissed me in that storage room? The way you touched me? You’re living in a sea of denial if you think we have nothing to discuss.”
His lip curls as he shakes his head. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” I repeat with a bitter laugh, and I try to ignore the pain that ripples through my chest. “Nothing about that was a mistake, Eric.”
“Maybe I just needed to get it out of my system,” he snaps back, and the words feel intentional.
“Everything about that night was fucking perfect. It was right. You and I both know it.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he taunts.
My tongue darts out and I fist his hair, leaning in until our lips barely touch. “Why are you fighting this?”
His breathing is erratic and his pupils are blown wide, but he doesn't pull away. “There’s nothing to fight. If you haven’t gotten the memo, let me give you a direct message so there’s no room to misinterpret. I. Hate. You.”
“You’re such a beautiful liar,” I whisper as I lean in and brush my lips against his. It’s a gentle, barely-there kiss, but one that reaches into my very soul.
“Stop,” he begs, the anger in his eyes making way for something else.
Something deeper, and far more vulnerable.
“Why?” I demand.
His throat bobs with a hard swallow, and I suppress the urge to bend down and sink my teeth into it. “Because I don’t want you. I never did.”
“More pretty little lies,” I murmur as my finger charts a lazy path down his chest. “Tell me… if you say them enough and yell them for the world to hear, do you believe them?”
His breathing picks up as I stop at his belt. “They aren’t lies,” he insists.
“Baby, you’re going to have to try harder than that if you expect to convince me.” My single finger traces along the ridge of his erection behind his shorts. “Because that doesn’t feel like hate.”
“Like you’d know,” he counters, and my eyes flicker back to his, only an inch away. “You're so used to the world worshipping at your feet that you can’t even recognize hate when it stares you in the face. Well, take a good, hard look, Dmitri.”
“Go ahead, hide behind your denial,” I taunt.
He pushes me off and turns toward the parking lot without a word.
“Oh, running again, big surprise,” I call after him.
He spins and charges right at me, jabbing his finger at my face. “Fuck you, Dmitri. Stay away from me, alright? Stay the fuck away.”
“That's hard to do when you keep crawling back to me,” I say with a smirk, inching closer until the space between us becomes almost nonexistent.
His breath blows across my mouth as his chest puffs with his jagged breaths. “Stay. Away.” His lips brush against mine as he speaks, and every ounce of my self-control is tested as I remain still.
He separates himself from me with a visible effort, keeping his eyes fixed on mine until he turns and storms off, abandoning me to the solitude of the dark.