Layla rolled her eyes. "My friend Amelia spent her savings playing your entire catalog. Looks like everyone's a fan now that the rumor mill has spread tales of your presence around town." Her words slurred together slightly, but Derek just smiled as if she wasn't borderline unintelligible.
"Everyone's a fan? Does that mean you're a fan now, too? Little miss I'm too sophisticated for common rock has been listening to our stuff, hasn't she? I bet you've been playing it on repeat. Don't deny it."
Derek laughed at the expression on her face.
She wouldn't deny it, because it was true. Didn't mean she wanted to confirm it, either.
"That song that's on now...we must have done twenty takes," Derek smiled, and her knees went weak. "Adam wanted to kill us."
Adam, as in Adam Jeffries...that was the bass player. And an awesome one, at that. Not that she'd done any research or anything. She was much too busy for that.
"Why? You were trying to get it perfect?" Layla couldn't tear her eyes away from Derek's mouth. She wanted to kiss him.
His lips twitched as if reading her thoughts.
"Nah. It was perfect after the second try. But the bass part is killer. We just wanted to fuck with him, and see how many times he'd play it until he caught on." Derek's smile morphed into a grin that made him look charmingly boyish.
Great. Now she wanted to kiss him even more.
Layla laughed. "That's terrible."
"Yeah, we can be a bunch of shit heads to each other. But usually at least one of us deserves it."
"Oh, I find it hard to believe that you could ever do anything to make the other guys mad at you. I mean look at you...you look so...innocent."
Yeah. If innocent looked like sex on two legs with a magical penis that she would really like to see again. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it so it hung over her bare shoulder. Derek's eyes followed the movement of her hands.
He set his bag on the sidewalk against the wall, then reached out to brush her hair back over her shoulder, exposing it once more. Just as he had the night before, he twisted her hair around his fingers, bringing one long strand up to his face so he could inhale her scent. She shivered as he ran the strand over his lips before letting go.
"What would ever make you think I was innocent, Ms. M?" Derek's voice was like a caress over her skin.
He lowered his gaze to her shoulder, his eyes hidden behind a thick fringe of lashes. Layla's breath hitched as his knuckles traced the contour of her shoulder, his thumb dipping just slightly beneath the hem of her off-set collar. His eyes flicked to hers as he repeated the movement, the wicked little curl to his lips telling her he knew she wasn't wearing a bra underneath that sweater.
She bit her lip to tamp down the urge to tell him that she wasn't wearing any underwear either.
Layla leaned back against the brick wall, needing something solid to steady herself. She was dizzy enough from all the shots, but add Derek to the mix...she might as well melt into a disoriented puddle of whiskey and hormones on the sidewalk and get it over with.
Derek flattened a palm on the wall on each side of her head, blocking her in with his long, hard body. She should have felt trapped, but she didn't. Cocooned and protected was more like it.
Oh, and incredibly turned on. If only she'd worn underwear, then she wouldn't be able to feel the heated moisture spreading from the apex of her thighs.
A breeze floated around them, wrapping her in his scent. Clean and masculine. As perfect as she remembered it. She wanted to bury her face in his neck and inhale him, ingrain his scent in her memory so she could incorporate it into her future fantasies of him.
The thought skittered across her whiskey and Derek-befuddled brain that she they were right out in the open, on the main street of town where anyone could see them. She was supposed to be a respectable person. A teacher. And here she was, backed up against a wall like...like...
Like a woman who for the first time in fifteen years felt alive again.
"It's not common," she said instead of grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him in for a kiss. She realized after she spoke that her words made no sense.
"What's not common?" Derek leaned down and licked her bare collarbone.
She couldn't think of the answer to his question. Not with his lips sucking on her skin like that. And most definitely not with the way his teeth grazed over her flesh, making her toes curl in her sneakers.
"What's not common?" He repeated as he straightened, the curl of his mouth deepening as he took in the expression on her face.
Layla wasn't one-hundred percent sure, but she probably looked like a woman who could come just from someone kissing her neck. Which was probably pretty accurate.
"You said I thought I was too sophisticated for common rock." She cleared her throat. "Your music is not common."
He stared at her for a heartbeat, the teasing edge of his smile softening into something wistful. "Neither are you."
The door opened again, and Layla recognized Brody's laugh without turning her face to see who was coming out. She stiffened between Derek's arms, angry at having to face reality when she was having so much fun in the pretend world Derek always seemed to convince her to visit with him.
One look at Layla's face, and Derek's smile vanished, his features smoothing into that stony mask she recognized from their initial encounter at Chuck's. He straightened to his full height, which was an inch or two more than Brody.
Brody was thick and bulky with muscle in a forced kind of way--because he was a manly man--but Derek wasn't someone she'd want to mess with if she were a tool looking for a fight. He had muscle, too. The long and lean kind that belied a natural strength.
Plus, he gave off a vibe that indicated he knew his way around a fight.
Layla folded her arms across her chest, which for the first time since the fire felt free of the barbed wire that squeezed around it anytime she was faced with the prospect of a conversation with her dead best friend's brother. She didn't need back up, but damn it, it seemed to be helping.
Brody lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips. His eyes locked with hers as he blew the smoke out of his mouth.
She blinked at him, her mantle of strength momentarily slipping. She didn't know he smoked. Considering how his sister died and add to that how he considered himself Mr. Athleticism, it shocked her almost as much as his "news" did earlier.
"Layla...you still here?" Brody tilted his head and shifted his gaze to Derek. "And you must be the guy everyone's talking about. The one from that band. Morphium, right?"
Derek grunted.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, Brody likely trying to decide what kind of man Derek was, and--judging from the tension radiating from his body--Derek likely trying to decide whether a good punch to the face was in order.
Layla thought she should save him some time and tell him the answer was yes.
Brody looked away, casting a skyward glance before flicking the ash from his cigarette. "So...what brings you to Maybe? The whole town's wondering."
"Right now I'm spending time with Layla." Derek's eyes hardened.
Brody laughed and shook his head.
"Why is that funny?" Derek's voice was a low growl.
"Huh? Oh. It's just...it's just Layla." He glanced meaningfully at the wall where Derek had been kissing her only moments before. "I get the spending time part, but it's just hard to imagine Layla spending time with anyone."
Layla's face flushed at the insinuation. She particularly hated the way he made air quotes with his fingers when he said "spending time." It reminded her that no matter what Derek said to her or what she thought she felt about him, Maybe was just a pit stop for him, one thumbtack amongst many, and he'd probably "spent time" with women at every thumbtack-town he'd visited.
"You need to apologize for that." Derek stepped toward him.
"Just forget about it. I don't need an apology." Layla squirmed between them and headed toward the door, avoiding Brody's gaze as she passed. "I just came for my purse."
Derek moved to follow her. She spun on her heel and held up her hand. The floor tilted under her feet, and he steadied her with a firm hand on her lower back.
Brody smirked at her, and she felt her face growing hot under his scrutiny.
"You can wait here," Layla said to Derek. "I'll be right back."