Free Ross 03 Leave Me Breathless by Cherrie Lynn Page A

way out the door and strode through the chilly twilight to his car. He’d just reached it when the door opened again and Mark called across the yard to him.
    “Hey! Did Raina talk to you?”
    “Briefly.”
    “What do you think?”
    In reality, he couldn’t give two flying fucks what Raina and Mark schemed up. He wouldn’t let it affect him in any way whatsoever; he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. But the thought of them making plans around him made him seethe. “It’s not cool with me, man.”
    “Aw, c’mon. We’ll talk about it; it’ll be fine. We’re gonna fuck it up, dude!” Mark yelled, throwing the metal horns in the air and doing a wolf howl. Ghost dropped into the driver’s seat and shut the door on his caterwauling.
    Well, one thing was for damn sure. He couldn’t wait to bury his troubles in Macy’s sweet, warm body tonight. She’d made him the happiest damn guy on planet Earth earlier today when she let him know she was still with him on this thing. He definitely planned on showing her his gratitude. He didn’t want to think about anything else.
    Friggin’ life and its interventions. He wished he could already be with her. It had been a draining day; he’d called his nana, and she’d basically called him by every name except his own. His sister had called him bitching about their brother, Scott, who was being his usual douche-bag self, having not seen Nana in months and apparently having no plans to. Because he just couldn’t face it . Whatever. Couldn’t be bothered to give a shit was more like it.
    Some days he couldn’t face it either. To see someone as strong and independent as she’d been…
    He wouldn’t think about it. That was what he’d come home for: to get a breather, to get time away, see his friends, do some work, play some music. Recharge his batteries, because he knew he’d have to go back soon. He didn’t want to miss out on any good days she had left, but the good days were getting fewer and farther between. Days when Nana managed to maintain her mostly sunny disposition and didn’t cut him any slack with her lightning-fast quips.
    Macy was certainly helping matters. He hadn’t talked to her on the phone yet today, so he didn’t know how hungover she’d been or how mortified she was over what they’d done last night. And there was no question there would be some mortification; he knew her that well at least.
    He would reassure her she’d gotten him through the day. If not for her soft, sleepy voice echoing seductively in his head, he might have broken something by now. Probably over Mark’s head. Her whimpers and moans had haunted his restless dreams all night, and his one release hadn’t been nearly enough—he’d had to take matters into his own hands again in the shower this morning to be able to walk normally.
    He clung to her image like a kid with a security blanket, because who knew what sort of mess he would find at his friend’s house. Hopefully not one that involved a morgue. Gus had been spiraling dangerously out of control for a while now, and things were already way past serious. All Mark and the other guys saw was the effect it had on the band. They seemed to have forgotten this was their friend . Their brother. And the yin to Ghost’s yang, musically. He wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. Or ever.
    The simple frame house appeared dark from the street, the driveway empty of both Gus’s truck and his girlfriend’s Jeep. Ghost parked and killed the engine, then sat in indecision.
    This most likely had been a wasted trip. He should just call Macy now, go be with her and forget about everyone else’s fucking problems. He got out anyway and strode to the front door, pounding on it hard enough to wake the dead. And hopefully no one fitting that description was inside.
    “Gus!”
    The neighbors were probably going to come out shooting. He battered the door a few more times, rattling the three small squares of glass at his eye level.