Or so Neal said.

Frankly, Bryna flat out hated him, and at this point Stacia barely tolerated him. The disconnect between the two most important things in her life, her friends and her boyfriend, was causing some…unnecessary strain.

“I’m just going to answer this and then we can go,” Trihn said. She turned away from her friends before anyone could say anything to change her mind. And she knew Bryna would try.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Trihn heard Bryna say to Stacia behind her back.

“Leave it be, Bri,” Stacia said.

Trihn took a breath and answered the phone with forced enthusiasm. “Hey!”

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” Neal asked.

Trihn twirled her long brown-to-blonde ombre around her finger and tried to calm herself down. She was not going to argue with Neal tonight. Not about going to the club for a girl’s night. He’d understand.

He would.

She would just keep telling herself that.

Her stomach knotted anyway. Twisting and turning against her will as fear crept up her spine. No matter how much she tried to tamp it down, it just slithered its way back up.

She took a deep breath. “I was just about to head out with Bri and Stacia. We’re going to this club that’s having some kind of crazy dance party…”

“Let me guess,” he said dryly. “Bryna’s suggestion?”

“Maya actually!” she said, trying to keep pep in her voice. “She’s meeting us there later after she gets off work.”

Maya was their favorite bartender at the local bar they frequented, Posse. It was located just off the Las Vegas State campus where Trihn was starting the second semester of her sophomore year.

“I see. Well, never mind then.”

“I would totally invite you,” Trihn insisted. Bryna coughed noisily behind her. Trihn swiveled around and glared at her and Stacia. “But…it’s a girl’s night. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting back early. I should have checked with your schedule.”

Stacia snorted and shook her head. Bryna looked like she was ready to rip the phone out of her hand and tell Neal exactly what he could do with his schedule.

“It’s fine, Trihn. I was just going to see if I could come over since I just got back from San Francisco.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Over winter break, Neal had had an internship for graphic design in San Francisco, where his parents lived. It was a continuation of his work from last summer. She had only seen him for a couple days when her parents had flown him out to New York City for New Year’s.

He had gotten back to Las Vegas two days early. She had thought he wouldn’t be in town until the Sunday before school started, but his parents had decided otherwise. She felt bad that she already had plans and would have run over there in a heartbeat, but Maya never got out of work to hang out with them. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity. She figured she would just see Neal tomorrow and all would be fine.

“So,” she said softly.

The silence stretched between them as she waited for him to say something. She bit her lip and fought against the growing awkwardness in their relationship. When he had visited her only a couple weeks ago, things had been strange. He’d been more interested in getting to know her sister, Lydia, than spending time with Trihn. She and Lydia still had a strained relationship after what had happened post high school graduation, and it didn’t help that Trihn had another boyfriend who seemed enamored by Lydia.

“I’ll just talk to you later or something,” Neal said after a few silent minutes. “I’ll probably go to The Kiln since you don’t want to see me.”

Trihn cringed. She actually hated The Kiln. It was an artistic dream in theory. A bar with live music and slam poetry under the same roof as a pottery studio. But in reality everyone sat around and bemoaned the state of the art movement or lack there of in America, got high as fuck, and then made art with their bodies…with whoever was around. It wasn’t uncommon for the place to turn into an orgy.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” she insisted. “I do really want to see you, but we’ve had this planned for awhile…”

“Okay.”

“But…do you have to go to The Kiln?” she managed to get out. He knew she hated that place. It was a breeding ground for bad behavior. All the while, he claimed that the clubs she went to were bad.

“You’re going out to some club to get wasted with your friends and basically have sex on the dance floor, and you’re asking me to not go out?” he asked in a tone that brokered no argument.

“I’m not going to have sex on the dance floor,” she argued anyway. “But I know that people do at Kiln. It’s just…gross.”

“Trihn, don’t lecture me about what I can and can’t do.”

“I wasn’t,” she whimpered. “I just…”

“Look, I’m going to go. If you decide to stop fucking around and want to take us seriously, then come to Kiln and we can talk.”

“I…”

The line went dead in her hand, and she nearly screamed. How dare he insinuate that she was going out to fuck around, and she didn’t take their relationship seriously!

She was the one putting all the effort into their relationship. Half the time he was pissed off about what she was doing and who she was hanging out with. It was blatantly clear he didn’t trust her. She didn’t get it, because she had never done anything to make him think otherwise. She was as loyal as they came.

After the fiasco with Preston, she couldn’t even imagine fooling around behind someone’s back. It pissed her off all over again.

She tried to rein in her emotions. The last thing she wanted was to be in a bad mood when she went out with the girls. Things with Neal would work out. They always did. He would get mad and lash out, but when they got back together, everything would be fine. He was just frustrated.

“All right,” she said, dropping the phone to her side. “Are you guys ready to party?”

Bryna and Stacia exchanged equally sympathetic looks. They knew things between she and Neal were rocky even if they had only heard half of the conversation.

“Is everything okay?” Stacia asked hesitantly.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Trihn said stiffly. “Let’s just go have a good time.”

She hoped that was still possible.

Excerpt

SINFUL LONGING

Lauren Blakely

“Do you like the music?” he whispered, his lips so close to her skin. Goose bumps rose on her flesh as she blinked open her eyes.

He raised a hand to adjust his tie—he was always doing that, as if ties weren’t his thing—and her gaze settled on his fingers.

Magic fingers, she called them. She knew what they could do to her.

“Yes, I like the music,” she said, trying to center herself.

“I do, too,” he said softly, then stroked his chin. “It’s beautiful. And it reminds me of something.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What does it remind you of? Some other piece of music?” She hadn’t known him to be a classical fan. He was rock, alternative, and indie music all the way.

He shook his head. “Not music. But something else I enjoy. Trying to remember exactly what.”

“Tell me,” she whispered, her curiosity now piqued. Her eyes met his. She searched those dark brown irises, as if she could find the answer there.

The sounds from the stage grew louder. “Wait. I think I know.”

She widened her eyes, and held out her hands as if to say tell me now.

“Turn back to the stage. It helps me think.”

She shot him a look, because that made no sense. Shrugging, she returned her focus to the musicians and the victorious sound of the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth.

“Ah, that’s it,” Colin whispered. “Now I remember. It reminds me of that thing you like so much.”

That thing.