Chapter 5
LAWSON
Idon’t stop kissing Nova as she comes down from it, her body melting back against mine.
She tastes like a summer night, and faintly of cherries, her tongue warm and lazy, brushing against mine.
I know we’re running out of time, know I need to get her put back together, but I let my lips linger, moving against hers, until I’m out of breath.
“This can’t be the only time I feel you,” I mutter against her mouth without really meaning to, speaking more to myself than her.
The realization is hitting me hard—how much I need to do that again, feel that again.
It doesn’t matter that my rules about repeats are pretty strict.
Doesn’t matter that I don’t know shit about this girl. I need to have her again.
And I have a feeling one more time won’t be enough either.
I remove my hand from between her legs, wanting to start all over again at the sound of her whimper. I slide her panties back into place and let her skirt fall back down around her thighs, then turn her to face me, looking her over for signs of what we just did.
Her eyes are a little hazy, her expression slightly out of it, which gives me a surge of caveman’s pleasure.
“We only have a few minutes,” I tell her.
“But I’ll be damned if I miss the chance to taste you.
” Then I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking off the moisture she left behind.
Her taste makes me want to whimper, to throw her down on the floor of this basket and make her come again and again. With my mouth this time, then my cock.
It can’t be the only time, I think again.
“You’re a very dirty man, Lawson Barlowe,” she murmurs, breathless, eyes locked on my fingers as I slip them out of my mouth. I grin, leaning in.
“Just you wait, baby.”
I don’t give her time to respond, moving to straighten out her clothes. There’s nothing we can do about her flushed cheeks or her red lips, swollen from my kisses, but she runs her fingers through her hair while I smooth her top down and adjust her skirt.
By the time the basket hits the ground, we’re standing side by side, holding hands, looking for all the world like a couple who just enjoyed an innocent balloon ride.
Of course, the ride operator meets my gaze with a sleazy smirk as we disembark, but I nudge Nova to my side so she doesn’t see his knowing expression.
She might have enjoyed the fantasy of getting caught in the moment, but I don’t want her to know that anyone might actually have a good idea of what we were doing.
If I thought it might be awkward once we got off the ride, I was wrong. Holding her hand feels like the most natural thing in the world. She leans into my arm as we walk, the warmth of her against me making me smile to myself like an idiot.
“How about some food?” I ask, looking down at her. “I thought I saw a corndog stand.”
Her nose scrunches up a little. Fucking cute, I think. “I’m a vegan,” she says, and there’s a challenge in her voice. Like she expects me to give her shit about it.
I comply, dropping her hand and taking a step back, my expression horrified. “Well, this has been fun, but I’m gonna say goodnight.”
She laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to her. I feel ridiculously happy that she’s letting me tease her, that I made her laugh. Fuck, I feel happy about everything right now.
It’s a strange feeling for me but somehow, with Nova walking beside me under the carnival lights, I can’t bring myself to care.
“Vegan food can be really good, actually,” she says. “There’s a restaurant in Mount Casper that makes the best plant-based burger you’ll ever eat.”
“We should go there,” I say, without thinking, then nearly trip when I realize what just came out of my mouth. Am I seriously volunteering to eat vegan food just to spend more time with this girl?
Then she looks up at me with a pleased smile and I think to myself, yup. Totally worth some rabbit food.
But her phone rings in the pocket of her skirt, the tinny sound of Tom Petty’s “Freefallin’” filling the air, and Nova’s smile fades.
“You need to get that?”
She reaches into her pocket to silence her phone. “I can call her back.” Her eyes flutter closed, something like resignation settling into her features. “But I should say goodnight now.”
“Wait—really?”
She looks regretful. Maybe even a little angry.
“It’s my mom. If I don’t call her back in the next few minutes she’ll freak out and call my uncle.
” There’s a bite to her voice I haven’t heard before.
“She doesn’t live around here, and we haven’t talked in a while, so me not answering will make her think something’s wrong.
” She makes a noise that’s half laughter, half scoffing.
“Not that it’s ever a problem when she doesn’t answer my calls for weeks at a time,” she mutters.
“Nova—”
She shakes her head, and when she looks back at me the bitterness has faded from her eyes. Her smile isn’t exactly right though, not the way it was before. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I had a really good time tonight—”
Her phone rings again, the same song, and she swears under her breath. She silences it again but pulls it out this time, typing something onto the screen. I watch her while the strangest feeling settles into my chest.
I don’t want her to go.
This isn’t something I’m familiar with. I’m usually fine to see a woman walk away once we’ve had our fun. Maybe this suffocating regret is because I didn’t get the chance to get off?
But even as I think it, I know it’s bullshit. Making Nova come might have actually been better than having an orgasm myself. This has nothing to do with me getting off and everything to do with her.
I really don’t want her to go.
“Nova,” I say, my voice a little strangled.
I have no idea what I’m going to say. Maybe I’ll beg?
But she finally looks up from her phone to meet my eyes.
Whatever she sees on my face makes her soften, some of that worry leaving her expression.
She raises up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my cheek, and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to drop to my knees and worship her all over again.
“You have my number,” she says into my ear. “I really hope you’ll use it.”
“Fuck yes, I’ll use it,” I blurt out, and feel her body shake with a gentle laugh. I run my hands up over her back to her bare shoulders and I’m reminded suddenly of her flower tattoo.
“I think you owe me a real tattoo,” I say, and she laughs again, pulling back to look up at me. She looks much more relaxed now, more like how she looked before the text came in. Happier. It makes warmth spread through me, that soft expression on her face. I want to keep it there.
“You know where I work,” she says, her eyes holding mine. I picture it—me on a table under Nova, her hands on my skin, inking her art into my body.
I want that. I want her to mark me permanently. I also wouldn’t mind if her hands lingered on my flesh as she worked. Would she let me kiss her?
Fuck, I sound like a teenager with a crush. But I can’t wipe the smile off my face when she squeezes my hand, smiling, and murmurs, “I’ll look forward to it.”
Then she’s turning with a swish of her skirt, that mane of wavy hair swirling around her shoulders.
I have the strangest urge to reach out for her, to touch her one last time before she goes.
Instead, I shove my hands into my pockets, watching as she walks away from me.
I have her number, I remind myself, trying to dispel the anxiety swirling in my gut.
I’ll go to the tattoo parlor. This won’t be the last time.
“Hey, man.”
I startle at the sound of the familiar low voice at my side, and turn to see that Nick has joined me. I bite back a curse. I’d rather watch Nova get swallowed up by the crowd than talk to my best friend right now.
You’ll text. Go to the tattoo shop. I have a feeling I’m going to be reminding myself a lot until I see her again.
I turn to my friend. “Hey, man. Where’s Jules?” When I left the group a while ago to find Nova, Nick and my sister were about to go on the Ferris wheel or some shit.
But Nick isn’t paying attention to me. He’s watching Nova walk away with the strangest look on his face. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I don’t like that expression, not at all. “Nick?”
He finally turns to look at me, studying my face. “You know who that is?”
“Her name is Nova,” I bite out. It’s been a while since I felt the urge to punch my best friend—not since I realized he was hooking up with my baby sister, in fact—but I kind of want to now. There’s something dark in his eyes that’s pissing me off for reasons I can’t even name. “Do you know her?”
“I know her uncle,” he mutters, and I remember the way her face had tightened when she mentioned her mother contacting her uncle a few minutes ago.
“Nick, I don’t know what you’re—”
“It’s Victor King,” he says in a low voice. “Her uncle is Victor King.” And now I can read his expression perfectly. Distrust. Anger. A whole lot of the same protectiveness that has suddenly fled my chest. His protectiveness isn’t for her, I know. It’s for us—my family. His family.
Nova’s uncle is Victor King. Fuck.
“Man, I’m sorry to tell you this,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder and I can hear the regret in his voice. “I’m pretty sure she works for him.”
“No,” I say immediately, numbness spreading up my limbs, toward my heart. “She works as a tattoo artist.”
My best friend’s expression is pitying. “That doesn’t mean she can’t help him on the side. Or fuck, who knows—maybe he does business at the tattoo parlor.” He doesn’t have to elaborate. I know all about the places where Victor King conducts his business.
The Low Bar used to be one of them.
And if what Nick is saying is right, if Nova is related to that man—fuck, if she actually works for him—then I know I’ve royally fucked up.
Victor King is Nova’s uncle. That means that the best night of my life was actually a huge mistake.
And I’m pretty sure I just betrayed the people I care about most in this world—my brothers.