Tell Me Read online

  Melanie shook her head and rushed toward her bedroom. Was she really going to drop everything just so she could see Gabe a day earlier than planned? Hell yeah, she was. Why was she even questioning herself? It wasn’t as if she got much done other than thinking about him anyway. She had never been so consumed by a man. Never. And she hadn’t even known Gabe long. How had he managed to work himself so deep under her skin so quickly? Damn, she had it bad for the guy. It should have served as a warning to slow down, but instead her need had her speeding up, wheels skidding as she drifted around corners and careened through barriers to chase him. Her emotional brakes were malfunctioning, but she had no desire to have them repaired.

  Nikki appeared in Melanie’s closet doorway as Melanie yanked a suitcase from the top shelf and was instantly buried in an avalanche of extra pillows and linens. She kicked them aside impatiently, not bothering to pick them up. Leaving a mess would have normally driven her nuts, but she was in a hurry.

  “What’s wrong?” Nikki asked. She backed up as Melanie barreled out of the small walk-in closet. It was more of a stand-in closet—not much room for walking. “Melanie?”

  Melanie heard the panic in Nikki’s voice, not that she was surprised. Nikki tended to overreact to everything.

  “I have to hurry if I want to catch my flight,” Melanie said.

  “Oh God,” Nikki said, and Melanie found herself and her suitcase crushed in Nikki’s embrace. “Who died? Was it your grandmother? Oh, Mel, you must be heartbroken. Go ahead and cry, honey. You’ll feel better if you let it all out.”

  “No one died, hon,” Melanie said. “I’m going to New Orleans.”

  “But I thought you were leaving for Austin to see Gabe tomorrow night.”

  “Plans changed. You can stop hugging me now. I’m in a rush.”

  Nikki released her, and Melanie tossed her suitcase on the blue coverlet at the foot of her bed. She unzipped the case before rushing to her dresser for underclothes. Thinking she had all night and tomorrow morning to pack, she hadn’t planned what she was taking for her weekend with Gabe, so now she just started flinging various colors of panties and bras into her suitcase, hoping to sort it all out when she got there. Or maybe she wouldn’t need underwear the entire weekend. She’d be okay with that too. She added her new lingerie, still in the bag, just in case.

  “Did Gabe dump you?” Nikki asked. “I will skin that lanky drummer alive if he did. I can’t believe he’d get your hopes up like that—make you think you meant more to him than a cheap one-night stand—and then at the last minute cancel on you.”

  Melanie shook her head at Nikki again, dragging summer clothes from a drawer. “Why do you always think the worst?” she asked, even though she knew why Nikki expected The Worst. The Worst had been following Nikki around all her life and she had a hard time functioning when it wasn’t kicking down her door. “I’m going to see Gabe in New Orleans. He has a show tonight, and he invited me to come. I just hope I can get there in time. The flight I’m on will be cutting it close.”

  Nikki squealed and grabbed Melanie in another crushing bear hug, but this time she jumped up and down as if they were on some Let’s Get Laid game show and Melanie had won the grand prize. She couldn’t deny that Gabe was a fabulous showcase.

  “I knew he liked you.” Nikki squealed. “I just knew it. I’ll go get my bag.”

  Nikki released her and was dashing off into the small, windowless office she was using to store her personal belongings while she stayed on Melanie’s couch. Temporarily.

  What? Wait. Oh no. No no no.

  Melanie dropped her armload of clothes into her suitcase and hurried to stop her friend from packing.

  “Nikki, you can’t come with me.”

  The delighted smile slid from Nikki’s face. Her bottom lip quivered, and Mel’s damnable soft heart twisted in her chest. “I’m sorry, hon. We’ll do something fun together next week. I promise.”

  “But… Just before you came home, Shade called and said I should come with you to the concert. He wants to see me again.”

  Melanie was floored. Despite his torrid one-night fling with Nikki, Shade—the lead singer of Gabe’s band—hadn’t called her roommate all week. That had resulted in Nikki’s need to consume copious amounts of chocolate ice cream and cry herself to sleep in Melanie’s bed for three nights. She had just progressed to sleeping on the sofa a few nights ago when she’d finally accepted the inevitable. At least Melanie had thought Nikki was over the guy.

  So why would Shade call out of the blue and get Nikki’s hopes up again?

  He wouldn’t.

  “Nikki, stop making shit up. The thing with Shade isn’t going to happen.”

  “If he sees me again, then he’ll have to admit there was something special between us.”

  She’d started saying things like that as soon as she’d moved into Melanie’s apartment. Initially, Nikki had been fine with the casual sex with Shade thing—even bragged about it—until Gabe had proven so attentive to Melanie, and then suddenly Nikki had decided she was actually in love with Shade and that he’d used her for sex. Nikki was positively heartbroken over the entire ordeal and needed constant coddling and a perpetual sympathetic ear. The way Nikki’s emotions did 180 degree reversals in a matter of minutes always sent Melanie’s head spinning. But she’d known Nikki for a long time, and she was used to her friend making up problems when life took a break from kicking her for real.

  “Nikki…”

  “Please take me with you, Mel. Please. Please!” She clasped her hands in front of her chest and shook them for emphasis. “I promise I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

  Melanie had heard that before. “I’m sorry, hon. Maybe next time. I only have one ticket.” She checked the time on her cellphone and cringed. “And I need to hurry or it’s not going to matter, because I’m going to miss my flight.” And if she missed her first flight, that would set off a chain reaction of fail. She had to switch planes in Houston. Ironic because Gabe had been in Houston only two nights ago. She’d have loved to have seen him then as well. That night and every night. But it just wasn’t possible. Curse her responsibilities for destroying her opportunity at perpetual bliss.

  “I can’t believe you don’t care about my happiness,” Nikki said.

  Oh for fuck’s sake, Nikki. “But I do care. That’s why you’re never seeing Shade Silverton again.”

  “Then why do you get to see Force?” Nikki crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

  “Because he asked me to come and I like him, so I’m going. You can sleep in my bed while I’m gone. I know my sofa is hard on your back.” An excuse she’d given Melanie when she’d crawled into bed with her the night before. The woman was a complete bed hog. Melanie had given up fighting for covers sometime around three a.m.

  “You’re sure I can’t come?”

  If Nikki’s lip pouted any further from her face, it was liable to fall off.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Fine then. I’ll just go get wasted and pick up some weekend company at a bar.”

  Melanie rubbed her forehead. Why did everything have to be drama with Nikki? Why couldn’t she for once give Melanie a break?

  “Just stay home this weekend, Nik. You know I’ll worry about you if you go out by yourself.”

  “Why should you get to have all the fun?”

  “Because I’ve earned it!” Melanie snapped and marched back to her bedroom to finish packing. Nikki was a grown woman—though sometimes it was hard to tell based on her behavior—and Melanie couldn’t spend all her time worrying over Nikki’s poor decisions. She had better things to do. Namely, Gabriel “Force” Banner.

  Trying not to picture Nikki lying dead in a gutter, Melanie yanked clothes from hangers and stuffed them into her suitcase in a big tangled ball. She hoped Gabe owned an iron. Did rock stars press their own clothes? She had no idea. She didn’t know much about him yet, other than they were insanely hot for each other even when
hundreds of miles separated them. She thought about changing out of her work clothes—a simple gray pencil skirt and fitted white blouse—and poking her contact lenses into her eyes, but another glance at the clock had her scrambling for her travel-sized toiletries and make-up kit before rushing for the front door.

  Hopping from one foot to the other, she slipped into her pumps and called to Nikki, “Don’t do anything stupid, Nikki. Please, for me, just stay home this weekend.”

  Nikki didn’t answer, and Melanie didn’t have time to check on her. She was likely just sulking.

  “I love you!” Still no response. “Have a good time, Melanie,” she answered for the silent Nikki. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll behave.”

  Maybe if she said it aloud, her wish would come true.

  Torn between elation at seeing Gabe and guilt for deserting her needy best friend, Melanie squared her shoulders and left the apartment. She was not going to allow Nikki to dictate her life. Not with the promise of nirvana waiting for her in the Big Easy.

  Chapter Three

  Melanie left her sedan in long-term parking and made surprisingly good time in the airport. As luck would have it, the rear section of the plane was called first to board and she hurried to take her place in line. Things were definitely going her way. She took it as a sign that she’d made the right decision. She was going to have a great time this weekend, and Nikki was going to be just fine at home. By herself. Melanie was worrying over nothing. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself. Nikki could be a pain in the ass, but Melanie loved her. Perhaps their relationship was a tad unhealthy, but something about Nikki’s dependence appealed to Melanie in a way she didn’t understand. Maybe it had something to do with being an only child and never having to look out for anyone but herself. Melanie liked looking after Nikki most of the time. And she worried about her all of the time.

  On the plane, Melanie stuffed her small suitcase in the overhead bin and sat in the window seat, instantly squashed by the broad man who sat in the seat to her left. Squirming for an inch of space, Melanie fastened her seat belt, huddled close to the window, and waited for the rest of the plane to board. Her stomach twisted with a mixture of nerves, excitement, and hunger. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. She hoped Gabe was up for a meal, because she doubted the airline would part with so much as a peanut on this short flight.

  Gabe.

  Had she actually sighed aloud thinking about him, or had it been a mental sigh?

  No matter, she couldn’t wait to see him again. Only a few more hours and she could lose herself in his arms.

  The man beside her gave her a long, hard look, most likely because she was grinning like a simpleton who’d been swimming in a vat of vodka.

  “Business trip?” he asked.

  “Purely for pleasure,” she said. “You?”

  “Business. Trying to break in to the UFC. There’s an amateur night in New Orleans this weekend.”

  That would explain his broad shoulders and nicked knuckles. He wasn’t a bad-looking man; she just preferred hers a bit on the tall and lean side. Or had ever since she’d laid eyes on Gabe.

  “Sounds painful,” she said.

  “Nah, it’s fun.”

  Getting repeatedly kicked and punched did not sound like fun to Melanie. But perhaps he meant delivering the kicks and punches was fun. Her brow furrowed. Nope. Hurting people for sport didn’t sound like fun either.

  The huge man pushed up the long sleeve of his T-shirt, and her gaze landed on the barbed-wire tattoo that circled his forearm. On cue, her heart rate kicked up. She’d made great strides in her tattoo phobia when Gabe had allowed her to examine his up close—and what a pleasurable experience that had been—but apparently she wasn’t completely over her fears. She felt silly for panicking every time she saw certain tattoos, but the fear was still there. She wondered if it always would be. Some people were scared of clowns or spiders or enclosed spaces. She was terrified of certain tattoos. Those rough bikers who had scared the life out of her as a teen had really done a number on her psyche. She just had to avoid tattoos with barbed wire or roses or skulls—so like half of the tattoos in existence—and she could remain perfectly calm.

  “Well, good luck with your fight,” she said, turning her attention pointedly out the window to stare at the back of the plane wing. If she didn’t look at the man’s arm, she could sit next to him all the way to New Orleans without having a panic attack. She hoped. She didn’t want to send the entire country to high alert because she freaked the fuck out on a domestic flight. She’d just stare out at the wing and make sure the engine stayed fully functional the entire flight. It would keep her attention off Mr. UFC’s tattoo. Maybe.

  “Melanie,” a familiar voice called from the front of the plane. “Melanie Anderson, where are you?”

  Melanie’s jaw dropped. What in the hell was Nikki doing here?

  Melanie assumed there must be some horrible emergency and no one had been able to reach her because she’d turned off her cellphone in preparation for her flight. Melanie shot up out of her seat—or tried to. Her seat belt threatened to break her pelvis. She wrenched the clasp open and jumped to her feet, nearly banging her head on the overhead bin.

  “Nikki, what’s wrong?” Melanie called, waving her hands. She could feel the heat in her face, and her throat was tight, as if someone were strangling her.

  “There you are,” Nikki said when she spotted Melanie at the back of the plane.

  She was carrying a rather large overnight bag.

  Why was she carrying luggage to inform Melanie about whatever emergency had brought her here?

  “Hey, big guy, would you mind switching seats with me?” Nikki said to the wannabe cage fighter. “You wouldn’t want to come between friends now, would you?”

  She turned on her charming pout—the one that made two-hundred-and-fifty-pound walls of muscle climb out of their seats—and then smiled brightly when he took her bag and started to stuff it into the overhead compartment for her.

  “You two hotties should definitely sit together,” he said. “I’m into feng shui. I like my beautiful decorations in balanced pairs.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes until they threatened to glimpse her brain.

  “You’re sweet,” Nikki said. “Isn’t he sweet, Mel?”

  “Like cotton candy. What are you doing here, Nikki?”

  “Going to New Orleans.”

  “Well, duh. The luggage and boarding pass sort of tipped me off to that. Why are you going to New Orleans?”

  Nikki held up a finger to put Melanie on hold and turned back to the big guy taking up the entire aisle. “Thanks for switching seats with me.”

  “Can I get your number?” UFC-guy said in a low, deep voice, his gaze trained on Nikki’s push-up-bra-enhanced bust. Her boobs were currently demonstrating the impressive stretch and strength of the cotton fibers in her skintight pink T-shirt.

  “I’ll bring it to you once we’re in the air,” Nikki promised.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to switch seats,” Melanie said.

  “Melanie, Melanie, always afraid to break the rules.” Nikki winked at the big guy. “But I’m not. If anyone asks, your name is Nicole. And what will my assumed name be?”

  “Richard Bailey,” he said. “Or just Dick.”

  “It’s never just dick when I’m around.” Nikki laughed and settled into Mr. UFC’s vacated seat. She grabbed half of her seat belt and half of Melanie’s and tried to figure out how to fasten two female ends together.

  Before the guy could deliver his next incredibly lame pick-up line, he was ushered up the aisle to his seat by a harried flight attendant. Melanie jerked the end of her seatbelt from Nikki’s fumbling fingers and fastened her buckle again. She counted backwards from a million so she wouldn’t strangle the life out of her best friend and greatest liability.

  When Melanie was prepared for flight and could talk without breathing fire from her nostrils, she turned to Nikki and repeated
, “What are you doing here?”

  “Following your advice.”

  Melanie made a face of complete incomprehension. “My advice? I told you that you couldn’t come.”

  “That’s not advice, that’s an order. Remember just a few days ago you said visualize what you want, gather your courage and go out and get it?” Nikki punctuated her words with opening and closing hands, as if she were putting Melanie’s advice up in lights. “I’ve been visualizing Shade Silverton all week.”

  In her head, Melanie started counting backwards from a billion. “I was talking about finding a job. You know, those work-type things that bring in money so you can pay your bills and half our rent and buy your own damned gas.” Nikki was entirely broke and seemed in no hurry to find employment or to move from Melanie’s uncomfortable couch. “How did you even get a plane ticket?”

  “I blew the pilot.” Nikki suggestively wiped at the corner of her mouth.

  Melanie’s jaw dropped.

  Nikki burst out laughing. “Jeez, Melanie, I’m just kidding. You don’t really think I’d do something like that, do you?”

  To get what she wanted? Maybe.

  “Remember that credit card you gave me for emergencies?” Nikki said, managing to look slightly remorseful. “Well, Shade not calling me for six entire days is an emergency. I’m going to tell