Higher Octave (Heavy Influence #2.5) Read Free Page A

sighed, rolling her eyes at me, and
excused herself with the empty bottle of wine. I got up a moment
later and followed her. I walked into the kitchen and didn’t see
her right away. I searched the perimeter and noticed a nook off to
the right of the kitchen. A wine chiller sat under the small
counter, and Aly stood next to it. I looked around as I made my way
toward her, making sure no one was watching me.
    “Hey.” I said, trying not to scare her. She
glanced over her shoulder as I slid the door halfway shut. I could
no longer see the kitchen. That meant no one could see us.
    “Jake, what are you doing?” She turned back,
focusing on opening the bottle. “Aren’t you worried your date might
come looking for you?”
    “No.” I kept my voice low.
    “What do you want?” She practically
whispered.
    I stepped up next to her
and leaned against the counter, watching her spin the opener into
the cork. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. One last, sober , time.” I swallowed
hard, trying to control myself.
    She closed her eyes. “Okay.”
    “Let me help you.”
    I stepped behind her and wrapped my arms
around her. Feeling her warmth shocked to life what I thought was
dead. I knew she felt it too, because her breath hitched. I ran my
hands over her smooth arms and held her hands in mine. She let go
of the wine bottle and opener and laid her hands flat on the
counter. I placed my palms on top of hers hands, coaxing our
fingers to curl together. Then wrapped our arms together, around
her.
     
     

2
     
    Alyssa Montgomery. Aly. My
Alycat, I thought as I held her. The ring
Nathan gave her mocked me beneath my grip – ‘I won. She’s mine.’
    Nah, not yet, motherfucker. Not until she
says ‘I do.’
    I would ignore it. I wouldn’t say one word
about it. She wasn’t married yet; that’s all that mattered to me.
Her little red dress accentuated her tiny waist just right. It
beaconed me to take it in my hands, to spin her around to face me,
but I remained still. She was killing me without even knowing; or
maybe she did.
    I’d mentally prepared to see her, one
hundred percent. I’d convinced myself that she’d moved on after
Bobby informed me of her engagement. It was just the kick in the
pants I needed. I’d resigned myself to thanking her for fueling my
musical fire; I had to give her that. Everything I’d written was a
derivative of my experiences and longing for her. I knew this and
looked forward to finding other inspiration. I’d never wanted that
before. I had a new future in music, and I was devoted to healing
and staying clean and healthy. I’d reinvented myself. This was what
I’d believed, until I laid eyes on her again. The connection was
instant. The invisible, unrelenting bond gripped and smothered me.
I was pulled to her as if I had no control. I didn’t have any
control. When she stepped into the room, she radiated a force so
extreme it rushed to me and swallowed me whole.
    And now here I was…no control, holding her,
hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.
    Having her in my arms again and filling my
senses had me losing my mind. Standing behind her, I wanted to
press my growing desire against her, but I abstained. She was
fighting me, and then she wasn’t. I knew she still wanted me, too;
otherwise she would have turned, said something nasty, and left.
She allowed me to touch her, to kiss her, and feel her skin without
bolting from the small room. I knew she was as tortured as I.
    When her voice quivered
with the words – “I don’t dream about you
anymore.” It stung, but I knew she was
lying. Maybe she didn’t dream of me as often, but I knew she did.
Especially when I felt the longing release from her when her breath
caught for a brief second.
    I still had a chance.
    I kissed her other shoulder and backed away,
clearing my throat. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.”
    She remained still for a long silent moment,
finally facing me. Her eyes were glassy, and she was flushed.