Temporary Bliss (Love By Chance Book 3) Read online

  TEMPORARY BLISS

  KISKA GRAY

  Copyright © 2019 by Kiska Gray

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  https://kiskagray.com

  Cover by Amy Queau of Q Design

  CONTENTS

  1. Mika

  2. Gideon

  3. Mika

  4. Gideon

  5. Mika

  6. Gideon

  7. Mika

  8. Gideon

  9. Mika

  10. Gideon

  11. Mika

  12. Gideon

  13. Mika

  14. Gideon

  15. Mika

  16. Gideon

  17. Gideon

  18. Mika

  19. Gideon

  20. Mika

  21. Mika

  22. Gideon

  23. Mika

  24. Gideon

  25. Mika

  26. Gideon

  27. Mika

  28. Gideon

  29. Mika

  30. Gideon

  31. Gideon

  32. Mika

  33. Gideon

  34. Mika

  35. Gideon

  Epilogue: Mika

  About the Author

  1

  Mika

  “You little shit!”

  I threw back my head and laughed maniacally. “Hah, head shot. Boom. Dead, dead, dead! How do you like me now?” It wasn’t every day that I managed to beat Saint Albright at his favorite video game, so when I did? I celebrated.

  Saint growled and chucked his controller at me. It bounced harmlessly off the cushions of the couch and landed on the floor with a soft thud. “Dude, suck my dick.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I purred. So maybe I was feeling my oats a little. Sue me. I waggled my fingers at him with a smirk, and Saint nearly choked on his gulp of Mountain Dew. He sputtered, his face going beet red.

  “Mika Allen Wolfram!”

  Unable to suppress my laughter, I clapped both hands over my mouth and tried my damndest not to snort. I failed. Miserably. I flopped back against the couch and giggled till my stomach muscles ached. When I finally had myself under control, I held out my hand.

  “I won. Pay up.”

  Saint slapped a piece of leftover Halloween candy into my waiting palm. He grumbled under his breath, “Not like I can’t go out and buy another bag.”

  “Skittles?” I rattled the fun-sized packet of fruity candies. “Really? I think that kill deserves at least a Kit Kat, if not a Reeses.” Saint rolled his eyes. I elbowed him in the side, then made a reach for the purple pumpkin-shaped candy bowl sitting on his lap.

  “Ah!” He grabbed my wrist and pinned it against the arm of the couch. Our eyes met. I lifted a brow and he huffed his annoyance, though I was pretty sure he was minutes away from smiling. “You’re a brat.”

  “I know,” I singsonged back at him. “Wanna go again? Double the money? If I win, you have to buy me something fancy, like a five-pound Hershey’s bar.” I could almost taste that sweet, sweet chocolate. I popped a Skittle into my mouth. Yum.

  “And if I win?” he prompted.

  I looked at him.

  I knew what I’d like to give him. Every last inch of me yearned for my brother’s best friend, a guy I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was fourteen. It would never happen, though, not for all the candy in the world. Saint was trapped so deep in the closet that I felt he might lose himself there. I got it. I did. His father was one scary motherfucker—and I’d never seen him truly pissed off.

  I opened my mouth to answer at the same time “The Monster Mash” started blaring from my phone. Saint startled and quickly looked away, but not before I saw the heat creep up his neck. Saved by the mom. Probably for the best, anyhow. I snatched the cell off Saint’s glass-topped coffee table and answered.

  “Hey, Ma. I was gonna call you later, I swear.”

  She clucked her tongue at me. “Of course you were.”

  “Really, I promise.”

  “And you definitely don’t have your fingers crossed?”

  I quickly uncrossed them. “Nope. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

  “I do hope you don’t do something stupid like tattooing your sclera black.” She chortled. I could practically see her smile in my mind’s eye. Good old Ma. “Might just have to disown you.”

  “Aw. Mean.” I pouted even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

  “How’ve you been, darling? I miss you. I miss all you kids now that you’re grown up and have busy lives of your own. I hardly ever see Maddie nowadays, and that brother of yours is always working. He gets it honest, I suppose.”

  That was for damn sure. If you opened up the dictionary to the definition of “workaholic,” Ma’s picture would be front and center. Being a trauma surgeon was a big deal and she loved her job, even if it meant she constantly worked weekends and holidays when we were growing up. She always tried to make it right by us, but sometimes there wasn’t a good enough substitute for family.

  “Definitely,” I agreed. Matthieu definitely took after Ma, nose to the grindstone. I hadn’t seen him in months. I hung out with Saint two or three times a week, but Matthieu had been Saint’s friend first. When was the last time the two of them had gotten together? When was the last time Matthieu had thought to call him? Or any of us, for that matter?

  Ma brought me back down to reality. Unfortunately for me, that reality kind of sucked. “How’ve you been? That man of yours treating you well, I hope?”

  The man that cheated on me eight months ago, then dumped me? That man? I grimaced and crossed my fingers once more. “Uh, yeah. He’s great, really.”

  “He’d better be. You’re my baby boy and you deserve the best.” She smooched into the phone.

  I groaned. “Ma. Please.”

  “It’s true. Now, while I have you on the line, let’s talk Thanksgiving dinner. Cross everything off your schedule, because I want all my kids together for the holidays—no ifs, ands or buts. I know you’ve all got lives, but I miss coming home to a full house. It’s been so lonely ever since Maddie moved out with her friends.” She sniffed and for a moment, I thought she might cry.

  I tried for joking. “I know, Ma. Life sucks and then you die.”

  “No dying allowed,” she chided. “Not before the holidays. You need to wait until at least the new year, do you understand?”

  I grinned. Man, I loved her. “Yes, Ma. Are you frying a turkey this year?”

  “Of course. I’ve got an entire feast planned out, so you’d best not miss it. Oh, and bring that boyfriend of yours along, would you? I need to finally meet that young man.” Her tone left no room for excuses, so I just nodded my head and agreed, and she continued to chatter my ear off about work for the next ten minutes.

  “Don’t forget. Two PM sharp.”

  “Of course, Ma. We’ll be there.” My nose was itching something fierce. I wondered if maybe I’d turn into Pinocchio for lying. Showing up to dinner with a four-inch long nose would blow. “Talk to you soon. Love you. Bye.” I ended the call and dropped my head back against the couch. “Well, fuck.”

  The look Saint shot me told me he’d heard every word. “Fuck is right. You’re screwed.”

  “Ugh.”

  “How are you gonna hook a stand-in boyfriend? Thanksgiving is a week away.”

  “I don’t know.” I groaned again for good measure.

  “Mi
ka.” Saint turned to face me, a Reeses cup melting between his fingers, but he didn’t take a bite. Sympathy shone in his brown eyes. I knew what he was gonna say before he ever opened his mouth. “Why not just tell her the truth?”

  I looked down at my hands, to the chipped black polish that still graced my fingernails from the Halloween party we’d gone to.

  The truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was Brandon yelling at me over something petty. The truth was late night fights and passive aggressive bullshit. The truth was finding out he was fucking another guy and lying to my face about it, and when I finally got brave enough to call him out on it, he dumped me. As if my heart wasn’t already bruised enough. I’d loved him, issues and all, but apparently he never felt the same.

  Asshole.

  “Because it’s Ma. She’ll worry. I don’t want her to know I’ve been struggling. I want her to keep believing that I’m doing great on my own, that I’m happy.”

  “Are you happy, Mika?” asked Saint softly.

  Was I? I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer that question.

  “Mostly.” I tossed my controller gently onto the coffee table, then stood up and raked my fingers through my hair. Think, Mika, think—and boom, I had an idea. “I think I’m gonna hit Foxfyre tonight, see if I can get lucky.” The nightclub was where I usually found my hook-ups. There was always a mixed bag to choose from, especially on a Friday night. Maybe I’d strike gold.

  Saint stared at me. “You’re seriously gonna ask a total stranger to be your fake boyfriend for the holidays?”

  I bounced my shoulders in a shrug and smiled, as big as I could muster. “Sure, why not? Are you gonna do it?” The minute the words flew out of my mouth, I regretted them. Saint gaped at me, his jaw going slack before it quickly set in a hard line. His face flushed and his brows furrowed, and immediately, I felt like an asshole.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine,” Saint barked.

  It wasn’t fine and we both knew it. “You wanna come dancing with me tonight?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer to that. I knew exactly how it felt to deny yourself your true colors. Hell, I’d spent my entire childhood trying to pretend I was someone I wasn’t. At least I’d had a choice…

  “No. Go on ahead, I have things to do.”

  Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. I wished things were different between us. I wished Saint could see me as someone besides his best friend’s kid brother, someone who could be there for him through thick and thin. Truth was? Saint was the kind of guy I could see myself marrying one day.

  Like that would ever happen.

  “Okay. Text me later?”

  Saint’s smile was sad. “Of course, Mika. Be safe.”

  I hugged him. “I’m always safe.”

  2

  Gideon

  I seriously needed to get over this funk.

  I’d spent the past few months languishing in a marinade of guilt and shame, spiced up with a hearty dash of sexual frustration. That’s what I deserved for sleeping with my best friend’s boyfriend. I knew it was wrong and like the asshole I was, I did it anyway. Stupid, huh?

  What was worse? Lazarus caught us in the act the day before Gravitation set off on tour and it sucked a big one. His anger and his pain slapped me in the face. We’d spent the entirety of the tour avoiding each other. The tension in the bus was thicker than a granny’s fruitcake—and I hated fruitcake.

  But it was behind us now. Laz and I had mended fences and hugged it out, just like old times. If anything, my stupid mistake saved him from a lifetime of heartbreak with Douchebag McGee. He’d hooked himself a cute guy and seemed happier than he’d ever been, so in a weird way, I did him a favor.

  So why did I still feel like a bag of dicks?

  Isaiah Monroe—or as I called him, Izzy—continued to ramble on about the scumbag his twin sister was currently seeing. He lounged on the couch, his long legs sprawled out and hanging over the arm rest as he absentmindedly swiped across his phone screen with one finger. The familiar sounds of Candy Crush rose up. Sweet!

  I rolled my eyes. He’d probably blown more money on that stupid game than he knew what to do with. My fingers curled around well-loved wooden drumsticks and I tapped out a restless beat on the snare. This was a typical Friday for us, though usually Izzy fiddled with his bass. I guess matching candies on his iPhone was more important.

  We’d gotten pretty close during the tour, after Laz gave me the cold shoulder, not that I blamed him. I found myself leaning on Izzy more and more. He was a good guy with a solid head on his shoulders, and he tended to be my voice of reason whenever I got the urge to get blackout drunk and throw my life down the shitter.

  “You don’t even know,” he drawled. “She’s totally into this guy and I feel like it’s a terrible decision on her part. You know how she is when it comes to men. It’s like she puts on blinders or something and refuses to see what’s so damn obvious to everyone else. Damn it, I just lost.” He puffed out his freckled cheeks on a sigh, then turned his phone off. “But the guy’s a sleaze and a total player.”

  I grunted. “Easy.” It wasn’t that long ago that they said the same about me.

  “Well, it’s true. She’s being stupid. He’s gonna break her heart and then I’ll have to deal with her moping for the next couple of months. You remember when Michael broke up with her? She was wrecked for nearly a year. She’s my sister. My twin. My other half. I just don’t want to see her hurt, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know, but Ivy’s a grown-ass woman. She’s fully capable of making her own decisions, however stupid they might be. You can’t wrap her in bubble wrap to protect her, Iz. That’s not how life works. Obviously.”

  I flicked my bangs out of my eyes and continued to beat on my drums. Ivy was the epitome of stubborn. Even if this new guy broke her heart into tiny pieces, she wouldn’t learn anything from it and we both knew it. No matter how much Izzy wanted to protect his sister, she was too much of a wild child to let him. “Gotta let it go, bro.”

  Izzy dropped his head. “I know, I know. You’re right—this time.”

  “I’m right most of the time,” I replied with a smirk.

  “I call bullshit.” But he was laughing. “I gotta get my mind off of it. You wanna go out tonight? Drinks are on me, so long as I don’t have to haul your drunk ass home on a flatbed.” His grin was toothy and impish. He waggled his gingery brows at me. “Speaking of getting drunk, when’s the last time you got laid, Gid?”

  Oh, we were not going there. “None of your damn business.”

  “Still having issues?” He gestured to his groin and I snorted.

  “Oh trust me, I have no issues getting it up. I’m just…in a dry streak, I guess.”

  There was no other way to explain it. Lately, I hadn’t been too interested in hooking up. Sex was fun and all, but it’d begun to feel like just another way to get off. There was no oomph behind it, no spark, no flame. No one had captured my interest in months and it was putting a damper on everything. Sure, I could sleep with a stranger. That was the easy part. It was the empty feeling that came afterwards that sucked.

  “Want me to play matchmaker?” Izzy offered.

  “Uh. No. I’m good. No offense, Iz.”

  He shrugged. “Well, let’s go have some fun tonight anyway. Loosen up with a few drinks and dance till we drop. You never know, maybe you’ll find someone sexy to go home with?”

  Izzy’s expression was bright, like it was just that simple and fuck, I wished it was. I didn’t particularly want to go dancing, but he looked so hopeful that I couldn’t turn him down. It’d be like kicking a puppy and I didn’t have the heart for it.

  “Let’s do it.”

  We agreed to meet back up at the nightclub and even though I wasn’t really feeling it, I dressed up for dancing, just in case. Fake it till you make it, right? We’d played our share of gigs at Foxfyre, so everyone there knew us, including the bartend
er, who poured us our first round of shots, on the house. Izzy picked up his glass and held it up to the light. The amber liquid swirled around.

  “To tonight,” he announced, clinking his glass against mine and without further ado, we tossed back our shots. I relished the burn and immediately went for another. Izzy laughed and joined me, at least until a sexy brunette in killer heels went strutting past. He followed her with his eyes and I nudged him.

  “Go on. One of us should score tonight, at least.”

  “I don’t wanna ditch you already,” he argued, but we both knew it was a lost cause.

  “I’m a big boy. I’m certain I can find someone to dance with. Go on, Izzy, man. She’s at least a nine. Go talk to her.” He hesitated, but I waved him off. I didn’t mind, not when I’d done it to him countless times on my search for someone who would hold my interest. No such luck. Feeling a nice buzz settling in, I headed onto the floor with no other intention but to dance.

  So it surprised me when I found myself grinding up against an androgynous little minx who really knew how to use that ass. He—at least, I was guessing he was a he—shot me a wolfish grin over his shoulder when my hands landed on his hips. His brows jumped up, but the look on his face was pleased. He ran his hands through his messy blond hair before looping them around my neck. His body rocked against mine in time to the beat.

  And there it was—that tiny, tremulous spark I’d been chasing for months. My heartbeat picked up speed. Maybe this was just what I needed. I offered my most seductive smile. “Hey there, lemondrop. I’m Gideon.”

  “Mika.” His grin was foxy and oh-so-naughty as he sashayed his hips from side to side. “I’ve seen you dancing here before. Thought I’d come over and say hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  That surprised me, because I definitely would’ve remembered someone as sexy as this. Unless, of course, I’d been too smashed to think straight. My hands roamed a little lower and I was rewarded with a soft giggle. Mika dropped his head back against my shoulder and kissed my neck. If I didn’t have a boner before, I definitely did now. My dick was suddenly all-in.

  “Glad I left a lasting impression on you then,” I murmured. “Can I buy you a drink?”