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  She bites my lips, scratches my back, and I can't tell her to stop because in my head it's not Casey who's fucking me so mercilessly...

  She comes, screaming, shrieking, and I freeze. Her voice is different, it's too high-pitched, too wrong. What the fuck am I doing? I have to end this thing with Casey, mostly because for the past two months whatever's been going on between us was only because I need to get the blonde from next door out of my head. I pull out, hoping she doesn't realize I didn't come. I head for the shower, looking between my legs in amazement.

  What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? Don't ever do that to me again!

  12

  Mark's not in bed when I wake up. The bathroom door's wide open, so I guess he woke up early and went home. However, when I walk into the kitchen he's there, all dressed and ready to go. But where? It's Friday and he never comes to class on Friday.

  "You awake already?" I manage to say, rubbing my eyes. I tie my hair up in a high ponytail. I'm still in my pajamas with no bra, not that Mark notices anymore.

  "I couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you." He gets up and plants a kiss on my cheek, then walks over to the coffee pot and pours me a cup, filling it almost to the brim.

  "Where are you going?" I lean my elbow on the table and prop my head on my hand. I didn't sleep well either and the dark circles under my eyes are the proof.

  Erika walks in, her eyes practically closed, and intercepts the cup that Mark's about to pass over to me.

  "Hey!" he protests.

  "Thanks, hun, you're an angel!" She flops down in a chair and rubs her temples.

  "Weren't you sleeping over at your boyfriend's last night?" I ask. "I didn't hear you come home."

  "We were at a party and drank too much. I wanted to come home so I left my car at the club and got a cab." Her hungover voice is rough, to say the least.

  "I need to swing by the music store at the mall for some things for the tonight’s show. Can I get a ride with you guys?" Mark asks, handing me another cup of coffee, which I grab before anyone else can take it.

  "That means no college this morning, right?"

  Amen. No one's going to die if I skip a couple of classes for once.

  Ben comes flying into the kitchen. "Shit, Mark! I've been looking all over for you..." He's out of breath, a hand on his chest.

  "All over? If I'm not in my room then I'm here. Why are you out of breath?" Mark seems angrier than ever and glares at his brother.

  "They just called from Tampa..." He leans on the back of one of the chairs, panting. Shit, he ran ten yards from his kitchen to ours. What's wrong with him?

  As soon as Mark hears the word 'Tampa', he leaps to his feet.

  "We're in...the top fifteen...for the Battle of the Bands...next week." Ben finally gasps.

  Mark grabs him by the shoulders, helping him stand up straight. His smile gets wider and wider until his excitement erupts like a volcano. "Don't fuck with me, man! Really? The first fifteen? Shit, we need to rehearse. Like now!" Now Mark can hardly breathe and I watch them curiously.

  As always, when I don't understand what's happening, I turn to look at Erika, who, as always, updates me.

  Mark and Ben leave by the patio door, chatting excitedly, without even giving us a second glance.

  "It's an important competition for emerging groups that takes place in Tampa every six months and they've been trying for two years to get accepted." She sounds sleepy. "They totally deserve it, they're so good." She yawns, showing me her tonsils. "I'm dying!"

  "How about we take a nice shower, then go for breakfast at that French bakery near campus, we get a mani-pedi, and then do a little shopping, treat ourselves to something nice for tonight's concert?"

  I’m hoping she says yes. I need a girly-day, away from my books. It feels like I've done nothing but study for the past three months, my only fun is the Friday night concerts. Since I got here, I think I've probably bought a t-shirt, a bikini, that I haven't worn yet, and a pair of pants that I wear for college. In fact, a couple of weeks ago my dad called me, worried. Apparently, I haven't used my card for more than a month. So today I need to do some really unhealthy retail therapy.

  "I say we should call Jess and bribe her into coming with us instead of going straight to class from Daytona Beach. For sure we'll be going to Tampa, too, so we should start looking for a motel there for next Friday and Saturday."

  As usual I'm the first one ready for tonight's concert and I sit on the arm of the couch in the immaculate living room waiting for the others. I'm holding the piece of paper Ben gave me yesterday, folding it over and over. I'd completely forgotten about it, thanks to what happened last night, but fortunately, I remembered to check my pockets before putting them in the washing machine.

  The words of the song are perfect. I know the chorus by heart, but I can't help reading it over and over.

  Just when I thought I was helpless,

  you walked into my life,

  leaving me breathless each time I look at you,

  do you know how it feels?

  Do you know how hard it is to look the other way,

  pretending you’re not there?

  Do you feel my eyes on you and the shiver down your back?

  I can’t take it anymore, give me a sign,

  Just look at me, or smile at me, or talk to me,

  Just give me a sign and I will never let you go.

  The front door opens wide, startling me. I quickly fold the sheet of paper in my hands and hide it behind my back, like a kid caught stealing candy.

  Luckily it's only Ben, as handsome as ever, obviously. He's wearing a white shirt with a small logo I don't recognize on the shoulder, ripped jeans and his usual black leather wrist-strap. His cap is pulled down over his eyes, with tufts of hair peeping out from behind his ears.

  Whenever he wears that stupid cap, I can't take my eyes off him. That now-you-see-me-now-you-don't effect drives me crazy. The way his eyes play hide-and-seek has an almost devastating effect on me and I can't help but stare.

  "Ciao." I sound embarrassed which is in stark contrast with my self-confident-bad-girl look. My skirt is so short and tight that one sneeze and it would be bye, bye skirt. Over it I'm wearing a baggy, bright turquoise-green, off the shoulder top.

  "You didn't tell Mark about last night." His neutral tone does nothing to hide his sense of urgency and just hearing him talk about what was about to happen last night makes me sad. Why can't he do like all the other guys in the world and pretend it never happened?

  I shrug, not quite sure what to say. I know I should tell Mark. "How do you know?" I ask, provoking him. The walls have ears in this house and his brother could come in at any moment.

  "Because he would've had my balls if you had," he replies with a giggle. "Why didn't you tell him?"

  "There's not much to say, and I didn't get a chance anyway," I lie.

  "He slept in your room, what better chance do you need?"

  His accusing tone annoys me. "You know, you're not usually the topic of conversation when he stays over." I provoke him again, folding my arms across my chest.

  He laughs and takes off his cap. Shit! I lose my nerve under his intense gaze and take a step back, bumping into the arm of the couch.

  Ben takes a step forward and looks me up and down, his eyes full of desire and my mouth goes dry. "Yeah, I know. But I also know you two aren't getting it on in there so you must be doing something."

  My arms fall to my sides. Just who does he think he is? "Are you sure of that?" I challenge. I don't know why. The last thing I want him to think is that I'm sleeping with Mark.

  He raises an eyebrow and comes even closer, still maintaining a safe distance between us. "Yup! Otherwise I'd chop his balls off!" He's not laughing now, his expression is all too serious and I catch my breath.

  I hand him the sheet of paper with the song lyrics. "It's beautiful, so’s the chorus...she must be something special to make you write like that." I can't take my eyes off h
im, though the sight of him is burning a hole the size of a golf ball in my brain.

  "We'll see about that." He takes the paper, deliberately brushing his hand against mine. His smile is so sexy it knocks me off balance. I'm used to seeing that bad-boy grin on Mark, but it's rare to see Ben smile like that. "You think I should change anything?"

  I jerk my hand away as soon as he stops touching me and hide it behind my back. "No, it's perfect."

  "Ryan has already laid down the base and I want it ready for Tampa. You coming?"

  Where the hell is everyone?

  I shrug. "Mark gave me no choice."

  His expression changes when he hears his brother's name.

  "Y'all ready?" Mark calls shrilly from outside and Ben shoves the paper in the back pocket of his jeans then reaches out and grabs my wrist.

  "Jess, Erika, Blondie's coming with us. Hurry up!" He drags me outside before I can say anything. "Isn't that skirt a little too short?"

  "Definitely," I reply, lost in my thoughts, trying not to pay too much attention to his fingers entwined with mine. "I can walk, you know." I shake him off and slow down before Mark sees us. These guys don't realize their legs are at least one foot longer than mine and that's without taking the 'heel' factor into consideration.

  "Wow, Cat! You’re hot!" With a grin, Mark takes me by the waist and twirls me in the air.

  "She’s naked, too. Nice touch, that black lace thong." Ben's sarcastic, humorless tone makes me flinch and I instantly cover my ass while Mark puts me back down.

  "The one with the pink bow?" he asks. I don't own a black thong with a pink bow but I play along and nod, winking at him, biting my bottom lip so I don't laugh. "My favorite!" he adds smugly.

  Ben huffs and climbs into the car, slamming the door.

  "Shit, I forgot my wallet. I'll be right back." Mark runs back toward his house and I get in the car, careful not to meet Ben's inquiring glare.

  "Does your boyfriend know Mark sleeps in your bed?" he asks, and I want to tell him to fuck off.

  "No, and he doesn't know you tried to kiss me last night, either," I reply sarcastically.

  Ben turns, a fiery look in his eyes and a mischievous expression on his face. "Then I guess he doesn't know that, if my idiot brother hadn't interrupted us, you would have kissed me back?"

  Oh my God! He’s full of himself.

  I roll my eyes like a kid, which I know is really pathetic. What am I supposed to say? No, that's not true? Because it would be a colossal lie. I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted him to lie on top of me so I could feel him between my legs and, despite everything, I wish he'd do to me what he did with Casey, when he picked her up and held her against the wall.

  With the clear intention of ignoring him, I cross my legs and take out my iPhone. Then I notice the dozen text from Leonardo and my eyes fill with tears. Why don't I miss him like I know I should? Why does Ben have such a hold on me? Just how long will this stupid crush last? When will it let me get Ben out of my head and focus on my wonderful, perfect boyfriend?

  Mark comes running back, gets in, and fastens his seat belt. Every Friday, the journey to the Blue Rock starts with the Carter boys discussing the set list but tonight there's only one thing on their minds: Tampa.

  "I'm sure if we really push ourselves this week then we can have the song ready for Friday night," Ben insists.

  "Ben, we've only just learned the melody, we're not ready. Why are you so obsessed?" Mark can hardly contain his exuberance and Ben is running out of patience.

  "Because they've heard the other songs a thousand times over and I want to win." The spark of determination in his eyes is contagious.

  "Okay, let's talk with the others, put it to the vote," Mark cuts him short, resolute.

  Ben looks at me in the rearview mirror and I smile.

  We walk into the Blue Rock and, like every Friday, the place is packed. Ron greets me with a kiss but Mark pulls me away when he tries to hug me. He has this amazing talent to get people to do exactly what he wants. I catch sight of Rick, the waiter with the tattoos, and he flashes me his usual filthy grin and an obnoxious wink, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

  He's disgusting. So creepy that you hardly notice his handsome face. Does he think he’s charming? Because he really isn’t.

  Mark lets go of my hand and gives me 'permission' to go and sit at our usual table, but then Ben appears right in front of me, blocking my way.

  "You’re with me till the girls get here." He takes my hand and leads me over to a small area behind the stage, reserved for musicians.

  "Why?" I try to protest, all the time clinging on to his hand with all my strength.

  "Because I'm sick of seeing Rick behaving like an asshole and tonight, at least, I'd like to avoid breaking his nose.”

  Okay! He must have noticed Rick’s creepy grin.

  "I can look after myself for ten minutes you know?" I reply, a little offended, as soon as we're far enough away from the deafening noise of the club. Mark realizes I'm here and raises an eyebrow.

  "I know, but I don't like that guy."

  "Rick?" Mark asks, pulling his guitar out of its case.

  "Yeah," Ben replies, flashing him a glare that means 'one wrong word and I'll split your nose, too'.

  "He's just a dick!" He sits down on a stool and starts tuning his guitar.

  "Yeah, the kind of dick who gets his kicks putting acid in girls' drinks. I don't want him anywhere near you." He lightly brushes his knuckles across my cheek without his brother seeing and I catch my breath.

  Something has changed in the last twenty-four hours and I'm not sure if I'm ready for this new connection between us. Don't get me wrong, I like it, but it also scares me to death.

  "I'll wait here." I don't feel like arguing or pretending I'm some kind of superwoman and contradicting him just to piss him off, especially since I can't stand Rick either.

  I sit in a corner trying not to bother anyone and only stand up when Ryan walks in. "Are the girls here?" I ask, heading for the door.

  "Yes, at our table," he replies distractedly.

  "Good luck, guys. See you later." I quickly leave the room and make my way over to my friends. Forget about Coke, tonight I need one of those Oktoberfest steins full of beer to calm me down.

  Suddenly a hand wraps itself around my waist and I stiffen. The breath on my neck makes my stomach flip and I know immediately who it is and what he's doing. He whispers in my ear, lapping his tongue against it, making me lurch forward but I can't get away because his grip on my waist is too tight. "Hey, Sweetie."

  Does he think he can seduce me like this? His cigarette breath turns my stomach and I slam my fist down on his hand.

  "Rick, get off me!" I blurt, feeling trapped.

  We're in a club full of people, I know nothing can happen to me, but I can't forget what Ben said about him putting acid in girls' drinks. What kind of shit does that?

  "You staying behind for a drink with me after the show?"

  Why on earth would I ever do that?

  His free hand slides down to my ass and my heart starts to race. This has never happened to me before. I thought it was something that only happened in films, yet here I am with this asshole groping my ass, holding me so tight I can't even move.

  I raise my eyes, looking frantically for the girls only to see Ben heading toward us, his face like thunder.

  "Rick! I'll bust your face if you don't let her go, now!"

  Rick lets me go and raises his hands in surrender. "We were just chatting." He smirks smugly and I'm so angry I can't think straight. I turn toward him, Ben's reassuring presence making me stronger, knowing he'd knock him out with just one punch if I asked him to.

  "No, you were groping my ass! Try that again and I'll kick your..."

  As soon as Ben hears the word 'ass', he hurls himself at him, grabbing him by the neck of his t-shirt, attracting the attention of half the people in the club. He drags him ten feet then slams him against the wall, l
ifting him up. If Ron hadn't intervened, I know he would have knocked him out.

  The owner grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him to one side. "What the fuck's going on here?" he shouts, pulling Ben away.

  "Touch her again and I'll fucking kill you!" Ben yells, pointing a finger at Rick and it’s clear he's not kidding.

  Ron lets go of Ben and takes Rick by the arm, dragging him through the heavy door that I guess leads to the kitchen.

  "Are you okay?" Ben asks, still upset. "You forgot this." He hands me my iPhone and checks me out from head to toe.

  "Thanks."

  "Shit, Blondie. You can't wear a skirt like that in a place like this," he bursts out. He takes my hand and leads me toward the entrance. His face is taut and he's so furious there's smoke coming out of his ears.

  He paces up and down, rubbing his face. He stops, his hands on his hips, breathing heavy, biting his bottom lip. I watch in silence, unable to speak, feeling stupid.

  I glance around at the full parking lot. "I'm sorry, Jessica said it looked..."

  He interrupts me, his hands on my shoulders, shaking me. "Jessica is her boyfriend's problem. If she wants to walk around half-naked then that's their fucking business."

  I stiffen. I hate it when he touches me like this and I catch my breath.

  Ben quickly lets go and closes his eyes for a second, trying to calm down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you, but you can't dress like that. You can't be a problem for me."

  A slap in the face would have hurt less.

  Shocked, I look up at him. "No one asked you to save me." Furious and offended, I turn and head back to the club. A problem? Since when have I been a problem and since when does he care?

  I haven't even taken two steps before he catches up with me, wrapping his arms tightly around my shoulders. "I didn't mean it like that. You're not a problem and I'm more than happy to watch your back. Okay?" His breath touches my cheek. Mint and cinnamon. He loosens his grip a little, but I don't move.