Lowering his hand, Griff grazes fingertips across the curve of her breast. “We had some good times, didn’t we, Al?”
“We did,” she says, breathless. “But we can’t do this, Griff.”
“Why not?”
“Because. Because we’ve both had our drunken moments, and now ... now we have to be adults about this and ...” Her words trail off as Griff dips his head to brush his lips across her neck. “Oh,” she says, her head lolling slightly, her long red hair cascading like a waterfall.
The arch of her body is insistent. She’s feeling him. And goddamn if he doesn’t want to feel her.
His hands curl around her shoulders, Alabama making a needy little noise at the contact.
And that’s his pistol start. All he needs to make his next move.
Wordlessly, Griff hauls Alabama to his chest and kisses her. Hard. Like nothing else matters. Like she’s his only one. Because she is. Griff knows it ain’t lust he’s fighting. It’s something else. Something deeper. That feeling from the past never faded and tonight, he’s goddamn owning it.
Alabama gasps as her lips meet his. For a second, she resists, and then she’s moaning his name, pressing her body against Griff’s. Her arms wind around his neck, her touch hungry and claiming, and a canine growl escapes Griff.
It’s then Griff knows he’s sunk. The minute he tasted her lips, he knew. Knew everything he’s been doing is over. Fucking up, screwing around, getting drunk.
It’s Alabama. All he wants, all he needs.
He doesn’t deserve her, but he’s got to have her. He wants this second chance more than he wants air. He wants to show Alabama everything she’s been missing. And most importantly, right now, tonight, he wants to take her back to the bus and—
“You son of a bitch.”
Griff stiffens at the shrill voice, and Alabama goes statue-still in his arms. He closes his eyes, wishing, willing it to go away. Because he knows who it is. And it ain’t no one good.
Grimacing, willing himself to look, Griff glances over his shoulder. Nikki stands on the entrance of the pier, hands propped on her hips, her eyes dagger-sharp and deadly.
It fucking figures. His one bad mistake from his past coming back to haunt him. Tonight of all goddamn nights.
Alabama’s expression flattens. “That’s why we can’t do this,” she hisses.
Ripping herself out of his arms, she backs up against the railing. The chill she’s giving off colder than the Arctic.
“There ain’t nothin’ between us,” he tells Alabama and it’s the truth. “Hasn’t been for years. She’s been following me since my last tour and I can’t get rid of her.” He holds up a placating hand. “Stay here.”
Her snort of doubt follows him as he turns on his heel. He hates leaving Alabama because she’s two quick seconds from tearing out of there, but he’s got to talk some sense into Nikki.
“You asshole,” Nikki says viciously. Griff catches her elbow as she tries to hit him and marches her off to the side of the boardwalk.
“Have you lost your goddamned mind?” he demands. “You can’t keep showing up like this. We’re done. No more.”
“You don’t mean that.” She goes in for a kiss, but Griff gently but firmly moves her away.
“I do.”
He knows he’s done Nikki dirty in the past. He regrets leading her on, treating her bad, using her only when it benefited him. He’s a selfish asshole prick who should’ve changed years ago. It’s all true, and he was the worst kind of man.
But now—that’s all over for him, and all he can do is recognize that and apologize.
Nikki grips his bicep with fierce strength. “You and me—we’re, we’re together.”
He shakes his head. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I never meant to lead you on, Nikki, and I’m sorry I did.”
She looks away from him, her eyes glazed and empty.
A curl of unease snakes down his spine when he sees she’s staring at Alabama. Her expression angry, almost desperate. And then she smiles.