Trinity (Moonstone Book 1) (6 page)

There was no way I was going to get through this evening. All I could think about was kissing her, touching her, and tasting her. She looked so sweet and innocent and I just wanted to wrap my arms around her, pull her close, inhale her, and breathe her in. My whole body was taught and edgy. I was going to stuff this up if I didn’t do something.
Now
.

“Trinity,” I began, holding eye contact, “we are going to dinner and I am going to spend the whole dinner thinking about kissing you. Wondering if you will let me kiss you and wondering what you will taste like. But I want to listen to you, talk to you without that distraction. So, if you wouldn’t mind, can I ask you something?”

Her eyes were wide and she nodded.

“Will you let me kiss you tonight?”

She licked her bottom lip and nodded again.

“Can I kiss you now?”

She sucked her lip in this time and nodded again her eyes wide.

I didn’t hesitate but slid across the seat toward her. Her lips were glossy and wet and when I touched them with my own, she jumped a little and stiffened.
Fuck
, she tasted like heaven. I nudged her lips open and slipped my tongue inside her mouth, tangling it with hers. She made a little sound at the back of her throat and leaned in toward me, her hands coming up to rest on my shoulders.

It didn’t last long but it was fucking awesome. When I pulled back I looked down at her, her mouth open, lips plump, and eyes shut. I knew that if I started kissing her again I wouldn’t want to stop. Suddenly, kissing her before dinner didn’t seem like such a great idea. Now I had a raging hard on that was going to annoy me all night long.

Finally she blinked and opened her eyes before her cheeks changed color and she ducked her head.

“Now,” I announced opening the car door and enjoying the feel of the cold air on my face, cooling me a little, “now we can eat.”

I was a bit wrong on that assumption. I did eat, forced myself to eat, but only because I was trying not to think about kissing her. It was as if she hadn’t been kissed before, not from anything she did that was awkward or bad, but because of the stain on her cheeks afterwards and the surprised little noises that she made when I opened her mouth with my tongue.

Man, I had to stop thinking about things like that. It wasn’t helping me focus.

Trinity, for her part, sat opposite and quietly ate her food, throwing tentative smiles my way every now and again. With her dressed this way, with her face bereft of the heavy makeup and the piercings and tattoos, it was hard to reconcile this girl here, who looked so fresh and innocent, with the girl who oozed sex up on stage out front of a rock band.

“You are staring at me,” she commented after a few moments.

“Sorry,” I blinked and forced myself to look away from her, “it’s just hard to imagine you up on stage when you look like this.”

She glanced down at her dress and then back at me. “Look like this?”

“You know, normal.”

For a second I thought maybe I might have said the wrong thing but then she giggled. I liked the sound of it, it was clear and genuine and it did funny things in my gut. “I have to dress different in order to dance and sing on stage like I do. There is no way I would be brave enough to get up there and sing looking like this.”

“You’ve always sung rock?”

She shrugged. “More or less. I may not have the right type of voice that people generally associate with rock but it’s what I like to sing.”

“You sound a little like—”

“If you say Mariah Carey I am walking out of here,” she warned, her blue eyes flashing.

I grinned. “I was going to say Kate Bush. You have that operatic sound. Were you the kind of kid whose mother signed them up for singing lessons?” My mother was that kind of mother, Brooke had been doing singing, dancing, and drama lessons for years. I remember being dragged along to boring rehearsals and concerts for years until I was about thirteen. At that stage though I was old enough to not only stay home by myself but also actually enjoy the girls in high cut leotards.

Judging by the look that caused her face to cloud over Trinity didn’t have the same mother as I did. “No. I’ve never had lessons.”

I wanted to ask more questions but I suspected the conversation was closed. And I hated that look on her face. I wanted her to smile again.

“So it’s all natural,” I said, making my voice as light as possible, “you’re naturally talented.”

She smiled and looked down at her plate.
Better
.

Feeling good I glanced around the restaurant for the first time taking in the other diners. It was one of my favorite restaurants, intimate but not overly too suggestive. I’d been here many, many times over the years. With family, with friends, and also with Melissa.

And there she was.

Shit
.

I lowered my eyes back to the food, throwing a smile in Trinity’s direction. Melissa was sitting across the room, having dinner with her parents. As far as I could tell they hadn’t noticed me yet and I really,
really
hoped it would stay that way. It was fucking stupid of me to bring Trinity here, I should have known that we would bump into someone I knew. And of all the people…

“Everything okay?” Trinity asked suddenly.

“Sure,” I smiled again, flicking my eyes quickly in Melissa’s direction.

Trinity noticed. “Do you know those people over there?”

“Hmmn.”

“If you want to go say hello I don’t mind.”

God she was sweet. I didn’t want to go say hello, I wanted to pretend they weren’t here and they didn’t know me.

“It’s fine,” I replied.

“Oh, well they’ve seen you anyhow,” she said, her voice changing, “and coming over.”

Fuck.
I did not want to have a scene with Melissa right now. Not in front of Trinity, not when things were going so well.

I glanced up to see Melissa storming across the restaurant. She was a tall girl, almost as tall as me and a formidable creature when she was pissed. And right now, she looked pissed. Her face was all pinched and tight and there were way too many lines between her brows.

I forced a smile on my face as she approached. “Melissa, hi, how are you?”

“Who is that?” she said not even looking at Trinity.

I needed to keep this friendly. I needed to calm Melissa down. “Melissa this is Trinity. Trinity this is Melissa.”

“Nice to mee—” Trinity began pleasantly.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Luke,” Melissa interrupted her, ignoring her completely and directing all her anger at me, “are you trying to make me jealous? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Melissa this is not the time.” I said quietly, imploring her with my eyes to calm down. I don’t know why I bothered. I had seen Melissa angry many times over the years and there was no calming her down. There was more just riding out the storm.

“What? Are you afraid I will embarrass
you
in front of
your
date?” Then she turned her attention on Trinity. “And you know you aren’t really his date don’t you? Luke and I have been together for five years. Did he tell you that?”

Trinity paled and her bottom lip trembled, but she didn’t respond she just stared up at Melissa with confusion etched all over her face. I was so angry at Melissa right now that if she was a bloke, I would have hit her. But that wasn’t going to make Trinity feel any better.

I reached across and grabbed her hand instead, forcing her eyes to look at me. “And broken up for two months. We aren’t together anymore.”

“We are taking a break,” Melissa spat, “did he tell you that? Or did you already know?”

“I didn’t know,” Trinity objected, her voice cracking slightly, “if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up, pulling her hand away from mine and hurried from the table. I watched her go, unsure if I should chase after her and explain or give her a minute to gather her thoughts. The latter was probably a better idea, plus I still had Melissa to deal with. The girl needed to understand that we were over once and for all.

I glared at her opening my mouth to speak when she smiled. I couldn’t believe it. The bitch actually smiled. “I’m not sure what you were playing at Luke, bringing her here tonight of all nights. But it worked. I hope you are happy. I’m jealous and I’m very angry. You are just lucky that I am so forgiving.”

I stood up and leaned across the table, hands braced on the edges to stop me from doing anything stupid. I was so angry I was trembling and could feel the table moving beneath my weight. “I don’t give a
shit
if you are forgiving, Melissa. I am not asking for your forgiveness. I haven’t done anything but take a girl I like out on a date. We are broken up. Broken up. It’s not a break, it’s a break
up
.”

“Luke…”

I didn’t listen to anymore, instead I left, doing what I should have done straight away and following the path Trinity had taken. I found her outside in the parking lot, rummaging through her purse. I reached her just as she pulled out her phone.

“Trinity—”

She looked up, her face pale. She was visibly shaken by the encounter with Melissa. I wondered, briefly, if she would be as shaken if she was dressed in her rock chic attire.

“It’s okay,” she said, “she was just lashing out because she’s hurt. She obviously really cares about you.”

“We were together for a long time and it would be a lie if I said I didn’t still care about her. I do. But whatever we had between us is long over.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything more. I wasn’t sure if she believed me but I didn’t want to keep talking about Melissa.

“Do you want to leave?”

“I think so,” she said, “do you mind taking me back to my car?”

I didn’t want to take her back to her car. I didn’t want the night to be over.

“I have an idea,” I told her, “how do you feel about going to watch some live music?”

Chapter Seven

Trinity

For a while, being with Luke, enjoying his company and the way he kept looking at me, I forgot my problems. Then I saw Melissa. Melissa was the type of girl that suited Luke. I could see that the minute I looked at her. Tall, elegant, and dressed in an expensive dress, she radiated class. They’d been high school sweethearts obviously, five years is a long time to spend with someone and they’d only been broken up—or
on a break
—as she insisted, two months.

I was tempted to just go home. Get some sleep in my own bed while I still could. But instead I somehow found myself back at
The Silver Den
, watching a band who were actually pretty good. It was nice to come here and hang in the audience I had to admit. I was used to hanging back stage, performing and then going home.

“You like them?” Luke asked, handing me a beer when the band went to take a break.

“They’re great,” I told him honestly, “how did you hear about them?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. I just thought it might be good to catch some live music. I thought you might like it.”

That was nice. “What about you? Are you into this type of music?”

He paused and a look flickered across his face. “I’m classically trained in piano. But I don’t do it anymore, I’ve taught myself guitar and started writing my own stuff. Music is something I want to follow.”

“I thought you said you were majoring in engineering?” I queried. I was sure he’d mentioned something like that at dinner.

“I did. I am. Its—ah—what my parents want me to do. But we’ll see.”

He didn’t want to talk about it, I could tell. It must be a contentious issue between him and his parents. I didn’t push it. I hated it when people tried to get me to talk about my family issues with them.

I nudged him. “Maybe you could join a band.”

“I’d like that,” he told me honestly, “but—well, we’ll see.”

He was brushing me off again but that was okay.

“Hey, wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

He took my drink from me and placed it on a nearby table then looped his fingers through mine and drew me close as he led the way through the crowd to the dance floor. For a Tuesday night it was pretty busy, although not half as busy as it was on a Saturday night. Our night.

We reached the edge of the dancefloor, but Luke didn’t let go of my hand, instead he pulled me closer so that my hips and stomach were pressed up against him. I swallowed at the sensations that churned through me. He was hard. Very hard, and I meant that in a very nonsexual way even though there was evidence of that too. His hands let go of mine and went to my hips, pulling me up even closer against him. I’d never danced with anyone like that before, but surprisingly it felt okay. Actually, it felt more than okay, dancing so close to Luke felt like heaven.

Lifting my arms I wound them around his neck before finally resting them on his shoulders. Tilting my head up, I found him watching me, his eyes burning into mine. I felt my insides go soft and my breathing catch in my throat as my eyes dipped to his lips. They were only inches away from mine. We’d already kissed and memories of that swarmed my brain making me feel fuzzy. I was out of my depths with Luke. He was from a different world to me, a middle class world, he had a family, and he had college and probably not a care in the world.

And yet he wanted to kiss
me
.

And I wanted to kiss
him
.

I must have willed it because before I knew what had happened he had lowered his head and
was
kissing me. His lips were warm and soft, tentatively touching against mine as if asking for permission. I trembled under the kiss but still managed to answer him.
Yes
. I wanted him to kiss him. Even if every rational thought told me
no
.

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbled against my lips as he broke the kiss.

I was still heady from the feel of his tongue and mouth and could do nothing but nod and follow along as he led me out of the club.

As soon as we reached his car, he pushed me up against the passenger door and kissed me again. This time the kiss was harder, darker, and more passionate. His mouth moved against mine urgently, his tongue intruded into my mouth, tangling with mine as he pushed me back against the car. The door dug into my hip but I didn’t care, all I cared about was the way Luke’s tongue tangled with mine, the way his hands gripped my face, turning it up to him, his thumb running across my cheek.

I was shaking from head to toe and struggling to breathe. I’d never been kissed like this, so desperately, so demandingly in my whole life. Truth be told, I’d never really been kissed.

His hands moved against my waist, over my hips down to cup my buttocks and pull me more fully up against him. My hands went to his arms, roaming over the curved muscles beneath his shirt before tracing their way up to curl in the short strands of dark hair at his nape. I heard a sound, a desperate groan, and realized it had come from me.

“God you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my mouth before tracing kisses down my throat. His hands had bunched my skirt up and now they slipped underneath and I felt the warm calloused skin of his fingers on my thighs. I thought I might actually melt from his touch.

A thousand sensations fluttered in my lower stomach. I didn’t ever want this to end, a thought which terrified me.

The beep of a car alarm being disengaged broke our moment and Luke paused, his lips on my throat, his breathe coming in short, shallow pants. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet mine. They were dark, hooded, the pupils heavily dilated.

I managed a little smile at him although I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me again.

“Sorry,” he said when he finally spoke, his voice a little croaked. “I got a bit carried away.”

I nodded. “I think we both did.”

He grinned, and I don’t think I’d ever seen anything half so sexy in my entire life. Releasing me, Luke reached around to open the door, waiting as I slid in. He groaned a little when I adjusted my skirt and turned away, before walking around to the driver’s side.

When we pulled up behind
The Bean
where my car was parked, Luke turned to me.

“I want to see you again, Trinity,” he told me. “I
need
to see you again and soon.”

My heart skipped a beat at the desperate sound in his voice.

“You are seeing me right now,” I whispered.

“I know and it’s not enough. I want to see you more, I want to see more of you.”

I knew what he meant and heat flooded my cheeks. He wanted me. Someone like Luke wanted someone like
me
. He didn’t want the rock chic flaunting herself on stage, he wanted me, Trinity.

No one had ever wanted me before. Not my mom. Not my dad. No one.

“I’d take you home with me right now and never let you go if you’d let me,” he continued, his voice tight, “but I have a feeling no one has ever taken you home with them, have they?”

I shook my head.

He opened his mouth to say more but then closed it again and drew in a deep breathe. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I’m working and then I have band practice,” I told him.

“Afterwards.”

I nodded.

He grinned, like a little kid who’d just been handed fairy floss at a carnival. My chest constricted.

Feeling brave, and sexy, and desired, I leaned across the space between us and kissed him, breathing in the spicy, clean masculine scent of him. Then without another word I climbed out of his car and into mine, starting the engine with the biggest smile plastered on my face.

****

My mother was waiting up for me when I returned home. Her shift finished at ten o’clock and she normally either went out with friends drinking afterwards or she went home and straight to bed.

She never waited up for me.

“Where have you been?” she asked as soon as I stepped through the front door.

I glanced around the small, neat but sparse living room. The faded orange wallpaper was left over from the seventies as was the threadbare carpet. The sofa was sunken and none of the furniture matched. It was clean though, only because I cleaned it.

My mother wasn’t sitting, she was pacing the living room floor and she looked pissed.

“I had a date,” I told her.

“You had a date?” She screwed up her face. “Was it a real date or just a hook up? I keep telling you, you will get yourself a reputation if you aren’t careful. Who with?”

I blinked. Why did she want to know all of this? “Just a guy I met. His name is Luke.”

“Well,” she stepped forward speaking calmly and patiently. That scared me. I knew that beneath the surface she was simmering and I really didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she exploded. “I have had a visit from Kent tonight. Your
father
and he tells me that you are going out of your way to embarrass him and to ruin his life. Is that true?”

What
? She was crazy. Or he was. I stared at her. “No!” How could that even be true? I had met Kent once, years ago when I was about eight. I had once again been shipping off to my grandparents’ house because he was visiting but curiosity had got the better of me and I had snuck home. I’d seen him, seen him with my mom, on the floor of our living room. My mom had been furious when she’d spied me hovering by the door and had started to yell at me to go when he had intervened. He’d stood up and come over and knelt down in front of me, offering his hand. He introduced himself as my mom’s friend Kent, but I knew he was my father. My mother told me that he was my father anyhow, not that that was necessarily true. It might be that she didn’t actually know who my father was.

It didn’t matter. Even if he was my father he had never made any effort to get to know me and my mother had made sure I was never there again when he visited.

“Well he said you are,” she stepped closer and I stiffened, my fingers curling around the strap of my bag, “and I believe him. You’ve always set to ruin things between us, right from the very beginning.”

And then there it was. I didn’t see it coming or I would have ducked out of the way, but her hand hit me straight across the head, the force knocking me backwards. My feet slid out from underneath me and I landed with a thump on my backside, my head flinging back and hitting the edge of the coffee table.

Pain shot through me and I cried out.

A kick to my ribs had me doubling over and I choked as the wind was knocked out of me.

“You are ruining my life!” my mother screamed and then she was gone, the sound of her bedroom door slamming reverberating throughout the house.

I curled up on the living room floor, pain coursing through me and sobbed. She was getting worse. Normally after he left she was in a good mood, he’d made her promises he would never keep and she was high and happy. We were okay for a few weeks until she started to miss him. But this was the third time she had hit me this week and tonight, she had hit me hard.

I had to get out of there.

Managing to control my sobs I sat up, keeping one hand wrapped around my side which stung bad. Had I cracked a rib? I really hoped not as that would seriously hinder my performance with the band. I’d suffered broken ribs before and they took ages to heal. Sucking in a deep breath I touched my forehead where my head hit the coffee table. When I pulled them away blood stained my fingers. That wasn’t good.

Pulling myself to standing I hobbled down the hall towards the bathroom, keeping one hand around my side and the other pressed to my forehead. My fingers were growing wet and sticky and I felt something warm on my cheek. Inside the bathroom I examined the wound to my head.

There was a lot of blood and the gash was deep. Wetting a hand towel I pressed it over the cut and prayed that I wouldn’t need stitches but within seconds the flannel was soaked with blood. Blood was on my dress too, my nice dress I’d worn out with Luke. For some reason that made the tears sneak out the side of my eyes and traced down my cheek.

Luke
. The thought of him cut through me. If he could see me now.

I threw the towel into the hamper and grabbed some toilet paper pressing it against my head again. It turned bright red straight away.
Damn
. I was going to have to go to the emergency.

Quietly I walked back to the living room. Her bedroom door was shut and there was no sound coming from beyond. She was probably passed out on the bed. Collecting my bag and keys off the floor I left, shutting the door carefully behind me and making my way down the path the car.

Driving slowly and carefully through town I drove to the hospital and parked before walking up to the well-lit emergency. I was familiar with the emergency department, had been a regular for years. I’d had broken bones, fractures, plus a few stitches in my time and yet not once had anyone questioned what had happened to me. They all believed my simple, bald-faced lies. Even as a ten year old no one questioned the broken arm or cracked ribs.