Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)

The doors slide open with a whoosh, bringing in a gust of hot air along with the loud sounds of jet engines whining. Ross hops up to greet them, giving his nephew, Hawke, a hug before turning to Gavin for a fist-bump. Jealousy spikes into me, painful and sharp. Not because of Ross, but because Ross can touch Gavin freely.

I can’t.

I hover on the fringes of the group, unsure of how welcome I am. Hawke is discussing something with Ross when Gavin tiredly glances around the terminal and locks onto me. Those gorgeous blue eyes widen in surprise and that damn luscious mouth falls open.

Neither of us looks away. It’s only when Ross takes Gavin’s arm to pull him towards baggage claim that the connection is broken. I trail behind the group wordlessly, wondering how Gavin will react when he finds out the newest plan to catch our friend.

He’ll probably be so angry he’ll put me down again with one of those excruciating pressure point moves. Oddly, I don’t find the thought disturbing in the least. As long as Gavin is touching me, I can deal with the physical pain. It has to be better than the hollow ache I feel inside.

I guess I’m a masochist, because I welcome whatever he’s willing to give.

***

“This is complete bullshit, Ross!” Gavin shouts from one of the bedrooms of the hotel suite.

“Calm down, Gavin. It’s necessary, and frankly, the only way to get rid of this guy once and for all.” Ross’ calm voice does nothing to placate an agitated Gavin.

“No way, Ross. There has to be another way.”

I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Hell, I’m not eavesdropping. Gavin is so loud, there’s nowhere in the suite I can go where I won’t hear his ranting. We can’t go back to the rental house and the only way I can go on tour without alerting the stalker of my presence is to continue the façade as happy lovers. Gavin is pissed.

“Yeah, there is,” Ross agrees. “We can cancel the tour, let the album tank, and you can hide out in seclusion until the guy fucks up big enough to be caught. How’s that sound?”

I can barely hear Gavin mutter a string of curses.

“Shit, no. I don’t want that,” he grumbles.

“Then please, just do what I’m asking Gav. I don’t ask for much.” Ross’ voice has lowered to that of a concerned friend or family member.

“Fine.”

I hear Gavin’s begrudging acquiescence and close my eyes. That means eight weeks of living in each other’s back pockets. How I’m supposed to get through this without losing my sanity is beyond me. Hell, I’ll be shocked if I can control the rock hard erection that springs up whenever Gavin’s around.

The bedroom door opens and Ross walks out. “Hale, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He doesn’t stop or look at me as he speaks, moving quickly through the suite. The click of the door closing is the only evidence that Ross is gone.

I’m alone. With Gavin, who, judging by the loud protesting he was doing, is not happy with this arrangement.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. The tension between us can’t continue. If we?

??re to do this, we have to be in agreement. I stand up, raking a hand through my hair. My neck is so tight I roll it around a few times to loosen it. Better to get this over with now.

I turn around, intending to knock on Gavin’s bedroom door only to find him standing in the doorway, watching me. Those bright blue eyes do a quick scan of my body and a rush of heat floods my skin, scorching me from the inside out.

“Gavin…”

His eyes narrow and his full mouth twists into a scowl.

“I’m agreeing to this laughable plan, Hale. Only because Ross says it’s the only way to end this shit and I don’t want to disappoint my band mates.”

My mind goes blank when my gaze drops to his chest. Gavin’s shirt is so tight I can see the outline of his piercings. I swallow back lust, need, and whole lot of dirty thoughts and force my eyes back up to his face. “Okay.”

My stupid eye twitches.

Gavin smirks, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the glorious view, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. Dammit.

“Good,” he snaps.

“I-I’m sorry, Gavin.” My hand lifts towards him of it’s own volition, wanting desperately to feel the heat of his skin.