Three Little Words by Lauren Hawkeye Read Free Book Online

roses, classic red ones—not what I’d have chosen for Adele, but I hoped she’d see the gesture behind the flowers regardless.
                I was going to go see her. I had to convince her to give me a second chance.
                Like a man possessed, I pushed through the last of the crowd and burst through the doors that led outside. It was colder out than it usually was mid November, and the chill shocked me out of the tunnel vision that was blinding me.
                Halting, I sucked in a lungful of the frigid air as I worked through the crazy mess that had been my mind since I’d met Adele Cavanaugh.
                What if she refused to let me in? What if she threw the flowers back in my face?
                I had to take the chance.
                “Whoever you’re taking the flowers to, best not tell her you nicked ‘em from your fancy party.”
                The male voice carried easily on the thin winter air, startling me, since I’d thought I was alone.
                Turning around, I found the lead singer of the band that had been playing inside lounging against the brick wall, the smoke from his cigarette curling upwards in sinuous spirals.
                I nodded, not sure what else to say.
                “Must be a special girl, to make you run out on all this.” The guy gestured with the hand not holding his smoke, pointing to the party I’d just left behind. I heard the sarcasm on his Aussie-accented voice. “Or guy. Whatevs. I won’t judge.”
                Eyeing the strange man, I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether or not to continue this conversation.
                But it was giving me a moment to calm my nerves before pounding on Adele’s door, so I went with it.
                “It’s a girl,” I informed him, feeling like an absolute ass in my suit. Even though his band was performing at a formal party, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt covered by a leather jacket.
                Unconsciously my fingers lifted to tug off my tie and release the top two buttons of my starched white shirt. “ The girl, I think. If I haven’t fucked it up.”
                “Hmm.” The band guy took another drag from his cigarette, regarding me thoughtfully from dark green eyes. “Well, we all fuck up, mate. But what the hell are you waiting around here for?”
                It should have been weird, talking about this with some stranger, and even weirder still because dudes just didn’t talk about their feelings, like ever. Still, I found myself responding.
                “This is my last chance,” I told him, eyeing the cigarette. I wasn’t a smoker, couldn’t be if I wanted to stay on the football team, but right at the moment I could have used the stress relief. “I have to make sure I do it right.”
                “If she’s the right one, then it’ll all work out.” Grinning at me, he dropped his cigarette to the concrete and ground it out under his foot. He looked so casual, so comfortable with himself, so like everything I wanted to be, that I scowled.
                “Easy for you to say, dude.” I raked my fingers through my hair, blinking against the dryness in my contacts. I wished I’d worn my glasses. Adele loved my glasses. “You’re in a band. You probably have a different Miss Right every night.”
                Which wasn’t what I wanted. No, I just wanted the one.
                To my surprise, the spiky haired blonde man shook his head and let a thoughtful expression cross his face. “Naw, mate. I could; you’re right about that. The sheilas dig musicians, that’s for sure.”
                Rubbing a hand over his chin, he turned to study me. Again, I felt like this whole conversation should have been really freaking weird, but instead it kinda