Replay (Off Track Records Book 4)

by Kacey Shea

  Lexi meets my gaze and catches me staring, but doesn’t humiliate me by addressing it.

  My gaze darts back down to the video and my eyes widen as I take in the screen. Six million views. “Wait. Are those the comments?” I stab my finger at the number.

  “Yeah, all ten thousand of them.” Trent chuckles, shaking his head. “Crazy, huh?”

  Austin struts to Trent’s side, his gaze wide and alert.

  “This.” I glance down at the phone, my mind and verbal skills temporarily suspended at the numbers. His hand curls around one end of the screen, and I allow him to brush his thumb along my fingers before meeting his stare. “You.” Unreal. I can’t even process it.

  “I posted it last night.” He swallows, his expression void of its usual teasing.

  Last night. After his call with the lawyer he wants to fuck. Or has fucked. I yank my hand away from the phone as if holding the device a second longer might burn.

  “I added something extra at the end.”

  “Oh,” I say lamely. I don’t want to discuss this video. Not when I can still taste my stupidity. I was seconds away from kissing him last night. No. I wanted more than just a kiss. I wanted so much more with him. I turn away from everyone and open the fridge, digging around until I find a container of yogurt shoved to the back. I close the door and reach for the drawer filled with cutlery.

  Austin gently grips my arm above my elbow before I pick up my spoon. His voice is low so only I can hear. “I did it for you.”

  He did what for me? I shrug off his touch, but he’s already gone. Anger flares in the pit of my belly. Damn him. He can’t just whisper in my ear and expect me to forgive him. If we were alone, I’d call him out. But I won’t embarrass him, or myself, in front of his friends. And what’s with his cryptic message? Now I have to go on a treasure hunt, watch the video again, and what—? Expect he left a message for only me on a video blasted to millions? Please. This woman wasn’t born yesterday, and he better not take me for a fool.

  “Vince is pretty pissed about the video. He keeps calling.” Trent’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to meet everyone’s stares. I open my mouth to apologize, but Trent cuts me off. “We’re sending him to voicemail. He can chew us all out in person.” He chuckles and shrugs.

  Sean tips his chin, a smile of his own in place. “Don’t worry about Vince. We’ve all got your back.”

  “Thanks.” I dip my spoon into my yogurt and let his words sink in. In spite of whatever is going on with me and Austin, these guys and their girlfriends have welcomed me into their fold. I have no doubt they mean what they say. It’s unexpected, and something I didn’t ask for, yet their concern and protection bring forth a sense of security I haven’t experienced in years. I won’t allow myself to get too comfortable though, because life has also shown me that the same safety gets snatched back without any warning.

  * * *

  I’m watching the video. So help me God, I don’t know why. Curiosity killed the cat, and yet here I am lined up for the punishment. At least I have the good sense to wait until the band is on stage for sound checks. It’s embarrassing enough I’m watching this damn thing. There’s no way I’d give him the satisfaction too.

  Everything is the same as last night; that is, until the screen fills with Austin’s face. I recognize the location. It’s on the tour bus, in the bathroom. As I turn up the volume I wonder whether he recorded this last night or pulled it from another time.

  “So, I hope you learned something new, and you feel a little safer the next time you have to walk out to your car alone, or you’re walking into your building. My friend Jayla is a badass, am I right? But I have something I need to admit.”

  He signals to the camera, his finger moving in a come hither motion. “I’m an idiot. Because I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a woman like her on my side. She doesn’t just volunteer to kick my ass for these videos. She keeps our band safe—our staff, the roadies, the concession workers, everyone who comes to a show, it’s all because of her relentless leadership.” His eyes pierce me with their sincerity, and I hold my breath waiting on his next words.

  “She’s the best thing to happen to me in a long time, but I keep doing stupid shit around her. She’s already way out of my league. Obviously.” He flashes a grin. “But somehow she still puts up with me, and the rest of the band, and I’ve never been so thankful as I am to wake up each morning and discover she hasn’t quit.”

  His face drops the smile, the hint of humor, and I swear he might as well be right here with me as he says his next words. “Don’t give up on me, Jay? Not yet, okay? I know I have a lot to prove, to make up for, but I swear I’m in this thing.” He blinks and clears his throat, the smile back in place as his tone loses its intensity. “And you don’t give up, either. Find a friend, a sibling, a parent, someone who will practice these moves until they’re second nature. It’s a crazy world out there, and it doesn’t hurt to add a few skills to protect yourself. Until next time . . .”

  The video collapses as the next one in line pops onto the screen as it loads. I close the app and hold the phone to my chest. My heart races with his plea. Don’t give up on me, Jay? Not yet, okay? It’s those words alone that want me to forget and forgive him for every wrong he’s ever done.

  It’s unsettling how strong the impulse is, and of their own accord my feet push my body toward the music. I slip inside the stadium but stay off to the side, watching the band perform from behind one of the cement pillars. I’m caught off guard, though, when it’s Lexi at the microphone and not Trent.

  She dances around as the guys rock out, and I realize I’ve heard this melody before. It’s the one she was working on last night. She steps up to the mic, her rough and deep voice cutting with strength through the crash of guitars.

  “It was never me. Innocence lost.

  It was never me. Childhood stolen.

  It was never me. Not me you broke.”

  Her words fill my feet with a heaviness that settles throughout my entire body. My chest tightens, and my breath is shallow, but I can’t tear myself from her performance or the lyrics that hit too close to home.

  Her gaze travels over the empty seats in the arena, and before I can shrink back into the shadows, her eyes find mine. She doesn’t look surprised or shaken at all, and I guess she wouldn’t. She’s a rock star in her own right and plays for crowds as big as the guys’. I expect her to turn or look away, but instead she holds my stare through the next verse.

  “So long I wanted you to hurt.

  But it was only me bleeding from those wounds.

  Hurting myself gave you power, the power you stole,

  And now I’m just done, unable to stand on my own.”

  I suck in a sharp inhale, my body trembles, and my vision clouds with the onset of unshed tears. I won’t cry. I won’t. But no matter the number of times I repeat the command, hurt—real and fresh—slices through my chest with the tragic beauty of her song. There’s an openness to her stare. One that says she sees everything I hide, she knows everything I’ve been through. She knows. I don’t know how, but she does.

  Before the song ends, I hurry back into the corridor of the arena, away from Lexi’s perceptive gaze and Austin’s heavy presence. I walk through the mostly empty passageways, attempting in vain to slow my racing heart. I’m tired, worn down, and I need to clear my head so I can focus on getting through tonight. At home I’d throw myself into work, but that doesn’t bode well as a diversion here. Not when work centers around the one man who sparks a desire I never thought I’d know. But he’s a part of my past, and every time we’re together I’m confronted by other memories. They’re a distraction I can’t afford, not with the welfare of everyone on this tour at stake. Now isn’t a good time to fall apart. When is it ever?

  My phone rings and I half expect it to be another call from Vince. My finger readies to send him to voicemail as I’ve been doing throughout the day, but I pause when Kalise’s name pops up
on the caller ID.

  “Hey, girl.”

  “So, you are alive,” she smarts with a laugh. “How’s everything going? How’s the rock star?”

  “Good. Fine.” I glance down the corridor to see Austin, Trent, Leighton, and Sean talking off stage with Casey. “It’s been good.”

  “I haven’t heard from you.” There’s accusation in her tone.

  My gaze trains on the guys. I can’t hear them from this distance, but by their furrowed brows and pinched lips, they don’t look happy. “Yeah.”

  “What the hell kind of answer is that?” Kalise snaps.

  I turn away from the guys. “Sorry. Distracted.”

  “Sure you aren’t dick-stracted? You leave LA, become this viral sensation, and all of a sudden I never hear from you.” Her tone is as harsh as her words. “Aaliyah, either.”

  “That’s not fair and you know it. I’ve been working nonstop since I got put on this job.” I sling my words but a tiny wedge of guilt seeps into my mind. I’m a crappy friend. I should have checked in with them both. “It’s a lot of responsibility. Pressure to make sure nothing happens at these shows.”

  “At least tell me you’re getting some.” Her words lack their sharpness. She’s already forgiven me.

  “Oh, my God!” I laugh out loud and shake my head. “Would you stop?”

  “So, that’s a no on bone-town?” She digs for details.

  “You’re ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and laugh again.

  “You miss me.”

  “I do. I’m sorry I haven’t called.” I blow out a long exhale and kick my shoes against the ground. “This tour . . . it’s a lot.”

  “I take it you don’t mean dick.”

  “No. Unfortunately,” I admit, because this is Kalise. It’s pointless trying to hide my attraction to Austin. She witnessed it for herself.

  “I don’t understand you. You have access to perfectly good man candy, and yet you resist the temptation. You hold your moral ground like someone who’s afraid an earthquake is about to hit.”

  What she doesn’t understand is that if I don’t, I risk losing my mind. I follow rules because they hold everything together. They make sense. The minute I start breaking them, I risk losing more than my footing. I risk the peace within I’ve worked so hard to find.

  A voice clears at my back and I turn to find Austin eating me up with his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the corridor wall. He looks delicious as hell. Man candy. Damn, Kalise got that right.

  “I gotta go. I’ll call you more often. Promise,” I say into the phone and hold Austin’s gaze. A thrill shoots down my spine at his pointed attention.

  “You better.” She draws out the warning and I make a mental promise to not let weeks go by without checking in. “’Bye, Jay.”

  “’Bye, Kalise.” I end the call and pocket my cell. “Hey.” I tip my chin in greeting.

  “Hey.” He pushes off the wall and closes the space between us in a few long strides. He doesn’t invade my personal space with his body, though. “You watched.” Not a question but a statement, and by the intensity of his stare, I can’t tell whether he’s talking about the video or the sound check.

  I nod and swallow. My mind races with conflicting feelings. The lustful attraction for him battles against the simultaneous need to push him away and protect my heart. He’s unearthing feelings I’m not prepared to deal with. When Lexi was singing, she saw right through me. Does Austin see too?

  “I never slept with my lawyer,” he twists his hands together in a nervous movement.

  His admission is the splash of water I need to find my voice. Anger surges with the knowledge Austin’s been with lots of women. That he’s able to have sex without panic taking over. That he has a healthy—albeit leaning toward excessive—sexuality, and I’m nothing close to normal. “Yeah, I remember. She wasn’t on the list.” I bite the words out and give no other indication he has the power to shake me. I don’t like feeling weak, but somehow Austin pulls it out of me.

  “That’s fair.” He nods but his gaze never leaves mine, as if he’s searching for something. “I just want to be clear. We good? Because I feel like we’re not.”

  “Everything’s fine.” But it’s not. Not even a little. It doesn’t matter whether I want him or not. Or that the message meant for me in our latest video melts the shield around my heart. I won’t be able to do anything about it—not without being completely vulnerable, and that would shatter what control I’ve gained. My mental health is more important, and I won’t put that at risk. Even for him. I shove my hands behind my back so he doesn’t see them shake.

  He stares, waiting, but when I don’t give him more he finally nods, his disappointment as clear as his gorgeous green eyes. He doesn’t say a word, simply turns and walks away. My rejection to his proffered olive branch steals the lightness from his steps.

  I did that. But instead of satisfaction or a sense of security, I’m left with the fear that maybe I pushed too far. I lived without Austin’s friendship for thirteen years, but something tells me I’ll be forever changed after this tour. I won’t survive without him this time. Even now as I push myself through the routine of pre-show security, it’s lonely as hell without the warmth of his smile or jabs of humor. I wanted to protect myself by not allowing him to get too close, but there’s a good possibility I already fucked that up.

  Why am I still fighting this force of attraction between us?

  I already know the answer, and it’s one I don’t like to think about or dwell on. I don’t get the luxury of having a normal relationship. I freak out when someone touches me wrong, or when a memory slams into the forefront of my mind. Guys don’t want me. I’m damaged goods. It’s deceiving because my scars don’t show on my body. They’re woven into the facets of my mind. Even I have the good sense to understand that as interested as he seems, there’s no way in hell Austin’s prepared for what that entails.

  21

  Austin

  I’m dying here. Hard up and rocking a case of blue balls that puts all dry spells to shame. I need to get off before I lose my goddamn mind. I need to sink my dick into Jayla’s slick, tight pussy. No, her mouth. Fuck, I’d be happy if she stroked me. Or better yet, I could stroke my dick while she gets herself off.

  But none of that is going to happen. Not tonight. Probably never. The stress of trying to be a better man or to be celibate for a woman who doesn’t return my affection is pointless. And I can’t keep running off to masturbate like a horny, pathetic teen, not when it doesn’t offer much relief. The minute I clean myself up and tuck my dick back in my pants, my entire body goes back to aching for her.

  I’m acting like a pussy-whipped loser, and I am not that guy. No one finds that guy attractive. Jayla isn’t going to give me a medal, and waiting for her is pointless since she’s made herself perfectly clear. She doesn’t want me. Not in that way. After the video I posted last night and practically begged her to watch, I expected something. A kind word. A smile. Hell, I’d settle for a look in my direction. But if she’s watched it, she’s not impressed. It’s almost as if she’s actively avoiding me, going out of her way to be nowhere near me tonight. Which, frankly, is all the answer I need. It’s time to move on. Stop pining after a woman who wants nothing to do with me.

  So, tonight I’m resolving my problem the best I know how. I’m finding a consenting woman to fuck.

  It shouldn’t be difficult. This post-show party is packed with groupies, industry professionals, and the It list of Chicago’s social media influencers. There are plenty of hungry-eyed women who want to leave with a rock star. It’s their lucky night, because I’m in need of a warm body. All I need to do is pick one, lay on the charm, and presto, my temporary vow of chastity will be gone.

  Only, they’re all wrong. I scan the crowd of women searching for something to spark my interest but come up short. Sure, their skin is beautiful, but it’s the wrong tone. There’s no tempting dark chocolate, the kind I�
��ve come to adore. I look for curves, but all I find is flat asses and skinny legs. There’re no plump lips spouting fiery words, or eyes sharp with skepticism and truth, or hair as wild as it is beautiful. Right now, I couldn’t get it up for any of these women.

  That’s it. My dick is broken. Fuck my life.

  A hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Why do you look like someone pissed in your beer?” Sean tips his chin, raising two fingers to the bartender before turning his attention to me. Our other two bandmates are off in the crowd, mixing and mingling with their girlfriends, the lucky bastards. Jess’s flight is scheduled to land soon if it hasn’t already, but considering Sean’s next to me and not upstairs in his hotel suite, my guess is she’s not here yet.

  I take a long swallow of my beer and exhale the bad news. “My life is over.”

  “What?” Sean lets loose a chuckle, takes in my serious expression, and hands me a fresh beer from the bartender before leaning his back against the bar. “Tell me all your troubles, bro.”

  “I don’t want to fuck any of these women,” I admit begrudgingly, and lift my drink to my lips.

  He lifts his brow along with his lips. “Yeah? Me, neither.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re love drunk.”

  “What’s that exactly?”

  “Stupid, head over heels, committed to Jess. Which I respect, but that’s not my issue.”

  “No? What’s your problem, then?”

  Jayla.

  “Come on, motor mouth. Cat got your tongue?” he goads, and it’s the truth. I don’t have problems spilling my thoughts, or telling it how it is. He bumps his shoulder against mine. “Not that I’m complaining; it’s just a rare sighting. I’m not sure how to handle it.”