Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
I was never one to be shy at parties. My job was to mingle with strangers, after all. But this was different. This crowd wasn't full of professional clients or business people or other corporate drones. This was a wild mishmash of leather, eyeliner and crazy hair. Most of the guests had dressed down into casual clothing, but even casual for rock stars was wilder than standard jeans and T-shirts. I had to admit, it was a little intimidating.
I'd been to one of Hope's rock star shindigs before, so I recognized a few faces here and there but none familiar enough to go up and start chatting. I certainly didn't know anybody by name.
I didn't have to stand awkwardly in the corner for long. August, the drummer of Darkest Days, and his girlfriend soon arrived to a chorus of welcoming cheers. Hope said he had been in the hospital, but I didn't know the details. He looked well enough, so I had to assume he'd fully recovered from whatever ailment he'd been suffering.
Sipping my drink, I surveyed the room, trying to identify someone who looked normal enough for me to go up and introduce myself to. I received a few odd stares. It was probably because I was identical to Hope. Gazes would lock on mine, then drift over to where my sister was snuggled up to her boyfriend's side, then wander back to me with a look of confusion.
Sure enough, the young woman who'd been at August's side, Cassie, came up to me, mistaking me for Hope. After correcting her, that same confused look appeared on her face.
"You're Hope's twin?" she asked, head tilting to the side. "And Hope is dating Ian. Who is also a twin."
"Don't remind me." I tried to keep my face from twisting into a frown. I don't know if I succeeded. "I'd prefer to think of Ian as an only child and forget about that brother of his."
The look of confusion only deepened, but she didn't comment on it. We chatted a bit about her photos — she'd been the official photographer for Darkest Days' last tour. Hope had saved every single shot of Ian she'd taken. When I mentioned it, Cassie looked startled, before her lips curved into a soft smile. She liked the idea that her photos helped keep Hope and Ian close, even when they were apart.
"He's so good to her," I said, flicking my eyes over to where the two of them talked quietly to each other, hand in hand. "I always worried my sister would end up with some…" I shook my head, not wanting to get into it. Hope's less than fortunate dating history wasn't something I liked to bring up. "Anyway," I deflected. "Ian's a great guy. I couldn't ask for a better future brother-in-law."
If only that brother-in-law didn't come attached with an egotistical, womanizing twin.
When August came to whisk Cassie away, I noticed the adoring look in his eyes when he smiled down at her. A tinge of green envy hit me. Both Hope and Cassie had loving, caring men in their lives who clearly doted on them. As envious as I was, I couldn't help the tilt of my lips as I thought about it. They were lucky girls.
"There's that cute smile," a voice said.
Suppressing the urge to sigh heavily, I turned my head to find Damon approaching.
My belly immediately tightened. Damon was dressed in heavily ripped skinny jeans and a black and white Pantera T-shirt. His tattoos were on display. Without realizing it, I found my gaze scanning the rolling hills of those firm muscles. They flexed with every movement of his arms. And his chest… his T-shirt was so tight, his toned stomach muscles were clearly visible. My fingers begged me to reach out and touch.
"My eyes are up here," Damon said.
I snapped my head up, refusing to let a flush flood my cheeks.
"If you've had your fill of ogling me…" That knowing smirk on his face was as sexy as it was infuriating. I gritted my teeth. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."
I was about to shoot back—it's a free country—but stopped myself. I'd agreed to talk with Damon and try to clear the air between us. If nothing else, I promised my sister.
"Talk away," I said with a wave of my hand.
A look on consternation crossed his face. "Are you going to listen to what I have to say or have you already decided you're angry with me that nothing will change your mind?"
"I'm not angry with you," I replied automatically.
"Is that why your smile immediately turned into a glare the moment you heard my voice?"
"I'm not glaring," I said. "I'm waiting for you to tell me whatever it is you have to tell me."
Damon lifted his eyes to the heavens as if praying for patience. "I'm sorry, okay?"
I blinked, startled. "Did you just apologize?"
"Yeah." His hands hung at his sides.
"I didn't think you knew how to do that," I said.
"I don't make a habit of it." Damon looked vaguely disgruntled but oddly sincere. "I don't mean to be disrespectful," he continued. "I just say things without thinking about them."
"That's an understatement," I said.
His eyes snapped to mine. "Are you going to let me finish?"
"Is there more?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. Two apologies in a row."
This time it was Damon's turn to grit his teeth. "Don't know why I let your sister talk me into this," he grumbled under his breath.
"Hope told you to apologize?" I asked.
"No one tells me to do anything," he said. "She just mentioned that maybe, sometimes, my mouth runs off and says things it shouldn't. I guess I've been in a bad mood and she knew something was up."
I shouldn't have been surprised. Hope always did have an uncanny insight into people.
"I also wanted to apologize about what I said before," he continued.
"And if I ask you to clarify exactly what that was…?" I asked.
His lips twisted into a frown. "You really want me to go into detail?"
"I just want us to be clear on what you're apologizing for."
"I'm sorry I made that drowning in pussy comment."
My stomach roiled just hearing those words.
"And I'm sorry I kept touching you after you laid down the rules," he continued. "I should have respected your boundaries."
I blinked again, shocked as hell. "I didn't think you knew what boundaries were either."
"I know what they are." An almost impish smile crossed his lips. "I just usually ignore them."
I couldn't help but let out a small huff of a laugh.
"No one can say you're not aware of your faults," I noted.
"I know I'm not perfect," he shrugged.
"Your fans would disagree," I said.
"My fans aren't the ones I needed to say sorry to," he said. "So am I forgiven?"
I scanned him up and down, contemplating for long moments.
He put on a look of long-suffering. "How about I let you think about it while I get us a drink?"
With his apologies over with, Damon left to get us that drink. I eyed him as he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
The man could admit it when he was wrong. That was better than most guys. He realized he'd screwed up, or at the very least, my sister had metaphorically smacked him over the head with the fact he'd done something wrong, and he'd come to say he was sorry.
It seemed like I had to reevaluate my opinion of Damon on a daily basis.
While waiting for him to come back with our drinks, I scanned the room again. The size of the group had almost doubled. There were even more unfamiliar faces, people who had shown up fashionably late. As someone who always showed up fifteen minutes early to everything, the thought made my back itch.
A blond girl over in the corner looked familiar. After thinking for a moment, I placed her. She'd applied for a position through my company a while back. We were looking for classical musicians to act as a string quartet for our fancier events. If I recalled correctly, she played the cello.
I wondered what a classical musician was doing with a group of rock stars. Maybe the same thing a corporate event planner was doing here.
I contemplated going over there and re-introducing myself, just to have someone to talk to at the very least. Maybe we could commiserate over the unlikelihood of two relatively normal, boring people like us being at a party like this.
A commotion on the other side of the room caught my attention. A familiar voice was laughing while another male voice growled words of warning.
The first thing I noticed a very pretty young woman with dark red hair standing with a blue-eyed guy who vaguely resembled her.
The second thing I noticed was the blue-eyed man's fist about to make contact with Damon's face.
The third thing I noticed was Damon's arm around that girl's shoulders.
Fury exploded in my chest.
Damon had just finished saying he shouldn't have bragged about all the girls he could get into his bed, and now, mere minutes later, he was already hitting on yet another one of them, right in front of me where I could see.
Shaking with rage, I glared at Damon, willing him to turn and look at me. Almost as if he could feel my eyes on him, Damon did turn his head, catching my gaze. I stared him down with a bone-chilling expression. He immediately removed his arm from the girl's shoulders. His expression was almost comically chagrined. No doubt embarrassed he'd gotten caught flirting, yet again.
I whirled around on my heel.
I tried stomping out of the house, but the layout of the place was like a maze. I couldn't even remember how to get to the front door. The living room was also packed, and I couldn't push through the people quick enough without being rude.
I'd only made it a few steps when Damon appeared through the parted crowd.
"Faith, wait." He grabbed for my arm. I yanked it away before he could take it.
"Fuck off," I snapped, nearly surprising myself with my strong language. I rarely swore like that, and even then only when I was extremely pissed off.
"It wasn't what you thought," he insisted. "Just listen to me."
He was blocking me from leaving. I whirled away in the other direction, wanting to get away from him. He followed.
"I wasn't really flirting with her," he insisted. "Cerise is a friend. I like to piss off her brother by pretending to hit on her. Gael’s overly protective. I like to rile him up. That's all."
I stopped in the middle of the room.
"So you weren't flirting?" I said, voice dripping with contempt. "You were only acting like an immature asshole trying to piss someone off?"
"Yes," he said emphatically.
I stared at him incredulously before continuing to stomp away in the other direction. He continued trailing me.
"Where are you going?" he protested. "I told you I wasn't flirting."
"I can't believe you," I said. "I don't know why you always have to be such a?—"
"What?" he said, exasperated as I practically flung open a set of double doors. "What exactly am I?"
We stormed into the kitchen.
And stopped.
August had Cassie pressed up against the fridge. His hand was up her shirt. Her leg was wrapped around his hip.
I immediately turned bright red. Cassie's look of mortification was no doubt a reflection of my own. Damon's exasperation turned into wicked delight as he teased them. I took advantage of his distraction to make my exit, whipping around and leaving the kitchen as quickly as I came.
I couldn't believe I'd let myself think for a second that Damon could be anything more than what he seemed. Even when he wasn't acting like a womanizing asshole, he was acting like an impulsive jerk.
Enough was enough.
I was done with Damon for good.