by Cari Quinn
I needed a minute before I got in. I wasn’t quite sure when I’d gone from friendly feelings to more when it came to this woman, but I knew I was seriously fucked.
As I predicted, she passed out before we even hit the bridge. It left me with far too much time on my hands. I had just as many questions as Lila and Noah probably had.
I knew she’d sneak in and play during the quiet sometimes. But slipping into a rehearsal room at odd hours was different than middle of the night visits to a closed club.
I’d just figured her desire to get as much time on the piano as possible was a quirk of being the new girl in the band. She always wanted to make sure she knew the songs and practiced more than anyone I knew. But I didn’t know she was still lurking around our venues before gigs—especially now when things were so twisted.
Between the new directives from the Ripper camp and all the drama that seemed to follow us around, it seemed crazy that she’d take such a chance.
Not that I knew what she was thinking half the time. Getting a straight answer out of her about things in her past was like getting Jamie out of a guitar shop when we were on the road.
I glanced over at Teagan as traffic came to a standstill. Her feathery lashes fluttered against her cheeks as her lids twitched. Then she moaned and curled toward me in her seat.
“Teag?”
“No.” She mumbled a few more nonsensical words and suddenly snapped her eyes open. She stared at me, her pupils still blown wide with sleep.
Quickly, I checked the traffic situation. We weren’t moving, so I shifted toward her. “Hey. You’re okay.”
She frowned and pushed her hands into her hair. All her curls tumbled free as her intricate girl twist unraveled. “Sorry. I must have been dreaming.”
“Tell me about it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t remember.”
“Right.”
She sat up straighter. “How long was I out?”
“Thirty minutes maybe.”
“Really?” She scooped up her hair and tied it up again. “Sorry. Not a very good passenger.”
“It’s been a day.”
“Yeah.” She glanced at her phone. “Looks like some of the band has heard about my stupidity and the fire.”
“Texts?”
“Yeah. Even Jamie.”
“They’re worried about you.”
“I guess.” She shoved her phone back into her pocket without replying to anyone.
“You’re not going to tell them you’re okay?”
“They were just being kind.”
“I wish you’d quit with that shit. You’re not the new girl anymore. You’re part of us.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that after today.”
“What were you doing there anyway?”
“I told you. I just wanted to play.” Impatience laced her tone. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Middle of the night seems like the perfect time to get your practice on.”
“It is, for me. I like the silence. It’s really not any big thing.” She jutted out her chin before shutting her eyes. “Or it wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t wigged the hell out and caused a chain reaction of chaos.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I did, genius. Remember? I showed up in your fancy lobby and nearly got tossed out as riff-raff before you came down.”
“Not then,” I said impatiently. “When you wanted to play.”
“Do you have a piano?”
“Actually, I do.”
She twisted to face me. “What?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Just an old upright I found in a little music shop. They were going to throw it out. Seemed like a waste. Lindsey’s piano dude fixed it up and I put it in my music room.”
“Do you play?”
“Nah. Thought maybe you could play it one day.”
Her shock cleared the last of the fatigue from her eyes. “Me?”
“Sure.”
“Why would you buy it for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She tipped her head forward as if she couldn’t hold it up any longer. A few curls sprang free to flirt with her cheeks. “Not sure I deserve you, Cooper Dallas.”
I gave her a quick smile she couldn’t see with her head angled downward. “Sure you do. And now that I know you cook…”
She laughed. “I can cook. I didn’t say I was good at it. I’m more of a baker.”
“I like cookies.”
“Who doesn’t like cookies?”
“Only crazy people.” I shifted gears as the traffic finally started rolling again. “You know who else is crazy? Someone who prefers to play on a stage rig rather than their own probably sweet setup at home.”
“Yeah, except I’m renovating and don’t have access to mine right now. But I actually just put a down payment on a piano. My first big purchase since I joined the band.”
“How big?”
She nibbled her lower lip. “Pretty significant.”
“And you gave me shit about my place.”
“A piano is a lot different than a million dollar penthouse.”
Bit more than a million, but I wasn’t going to correct her. “Is that why you’re renovating?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It’s my dream piano. A white Steinway.” She sighed. “First time I saw one was while shopping with my grandma. I was like seven, maybe? All I remember is this huge, gleaming, black grand piano. The saleswoman let me sit on the bench. It sounded incredible even with my fumbling.” She smiled. “My grandma started me on lessons the next week.”
“And now you’re getting one.”
“I prefer white, but yeah. I’m not even sure they could get it in my place right now.” She swallowed audibly. “Well, definitely not now.”
I reached over and covered her hand. “We’ll get it figured out.”
“It’s not your problem, Coop. I’m a big girl.”
I drew back. “Doesn’t mean you can’t lean on your friends. Just say ‘thanks, Coop.’”
She shook her head, smiling faintly. “Thanks, Coop.”
“Better. Want to grab some food?”
“I don’t think I could eat.”
“Okay.” I turned onto Columbus and headed for my building’s garage.
A few minutes later, I parked and nudged her toward the elevator. The trip to my floor was quiet. She was fiddling with her phone so I assumed she was finally replying to our bandmates.
I tossed my keys into the dish by the door in my foyer. “Do you want to freshen up?”
Tiredly, she rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. I feel gross.”
I nodded toward the stairs. “Everything is up there. I have a small one on this floor, but it’s not much more than a john.”
She gave me another one of those faint Teagan smiles that were nothing like her usual wide grins. “Pretty sure nothing in this place is small. Is the john gold-plated?”
“No, but the floor is.”
When she gaped, I poked her shoulder. “Go get cleaned up.”
“Are you sure I’m not putting you out?”
“Teagan?”
“Yeah?”
“Get upstairs.”
She sighed. “I’m going.”
I followed her up, hoping to hell my bathroom wasn’t too bad. I’d only been home for a week. I wasn’t messy by nature, but I let some stuff slide. Especially when I wasn’t expecting company.
Luckily, she went right for the tub. That definitely was clean. I wasn’t exactly a tub guy, but it came with the place and chicks enjoyed it.
“Towels in the cabinet there. One of my T-shirts okay to sleep in?”
“I’m not sure I can sleep.”
“At least try. It’s going to be a long day.”
She nodded. “All right.”
“No one wants to face Lila unrested,” I added, trying to coax out another small smile.
Nothing.
I didn’t want
to leave her alone, but I also wasn’t sure I could control my-damn-self around her right now. Her big, bruised blue eyes were shattered and tired and she was pale as hell.
If I stayed in this room another second longer, I was going to do something stupid like wrap her up and take her to bed.
My bed.
And I’d gotten slotted so far up the friend lane that definitely wasn’t happening. She also didn’t need my stupid ass messing with her right now.
Time to go.
“Coop?”
I turned at the door. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for being there for me today.”
I hated that she felt like she had to thank me, but she seemed to be hanging on by a thread. “You’re welcome.”
Leaving her alone was the hardest thing I’d done in a damn long time.
Four
I wound my fingers together. Pulled them apart. Did it again.
The same nervous gesture I’d done about ten times now.
“I wish they could tell us more about the fire.”
“They will. They’re still assessing how much damage was done.”
“But if I could go over there myself—”
“It’s not safe yet. When we’re cleared to do so, we will.” Cooper stared at me across the table, his jaw set. “You don’t have to do the show tonight.”
“Yes, I do. We have a commitment. The fans are waiting on us. And it’s for charity.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to do the show.”
“Right, because no one cares about the new girl?”
“Jesus, Teag, you know that’s not what I meant.” Cooper sat back in his chair and shoved a hand through his already spiky damp hair.
He’d done that same move about sixteen times so far today, and I’d only been up under two hours. He was right about my being exhausted. I’d crashed hard.
Even after the sleep, I was still dragging. Add in the nervous buzz in my blood from knowing that soon, the rest of our band, Lila, and maybe even Lord Lewis—the Donovan Lewis, who owned Ripper Records—would arrive for our meeting, and I was a hot mess.
Minus the hot, at least physically. I wished I’d had some makeup with me at Cooper’s, but I did not. I didn’t even have my purse.
Never leave home without your important stuff. Lesson learned.
For all I knew, my license and credit cards were currently ash on the floor of my apartment.
Not going there now. I had bigger problems than needing concealer for my excessive number of freckles.
Like coming in the back exit of the club because the side door was being fixed due to my epic meltdown this morning.
I sighed and braced my elbows on the table. The shirt Cooper had given me to wear bagged forward, draping like a minidress over my pants from last night. I’d skipped the underwear, going without panties for the first time in my life. I couldn’t say I was a convert, but the alternative had been too icky to bear.
My bra, however, was necessary. There was no unholstering these babies, even with a dress-shirt to kind of hide them.
Oh, no. Not my bras. Were they all gone too?
“God, if I have to get all new bras, I’m going to shoot myself.” I fisted my hair in my hands. Braid be damned.
Cooper said nothing. Of course he didn’t. Because his best friend was crying about her tits when she’d destroyed private property and her townhouse was in rubble.
“You can buy more.”
“You act as if it’s so easy. Have you ever tried to shop for DDs?” Even as I asked the question, I knew it was ridiculous. That I was ridiculous.
Cooper had been nothing but sweet to me. But I was riding on not enough sleep and sorrow and embarrassment and the last thing I could handle now was someone being even-tempered while my life went up in flames—literally.
“No. But we have stylists we can use. You can have one pick you up some.”
“Some what? My entire wardrobe? Even if the fire didn’t reach the bedroom, it will be impossible to get all the smoke out.”
“You don’t know the extent of the damage yet or what you need.”
His tone was entirely too reasonable. Just as it had been when he’d told me I could skip tonight’s concert and stay home.
Right, but where exactly was home? I couldn’t go in my place. We weren’t touring right now, so I wasn’t living on the bus. Though that was a thought.
“Do you think Lila would let me live temporarily on the bus?” I asked suddenly, letting my hands drop from my hair as my gaze connected with his.
His jaw locked even more, if that was possible. “You can’t be serious.”
I frowned. “Why not? It makes sense. The buses are parked. I know we’re going back on the road soon, but until then, I think it could work for me to live on the—” The door swung open and Jamie, Lindsey, and Lila walked in, looking like a badass brigade of stupidly beautiful, put-together women.
“Bus,” I finished weakly.
For a second, the three of them looked at each other, almost as if they were having a wordless conversation on how to handle this. Me. And then their worried expressions vanished in favor of a smile from Lindsey, a fierce warrior goddess expression from Jamie, and a business shark-like look from Lila.
“Teagan,” she said calmly. “I didn’t know if you’d attend today’s meeting.”
She wasn’t calling me Ms. Daly as she tended to do when she was pissed, so I figured I was further ahead than I’d expected. “I’m all right, thank you. And this is my job.”
Cooper muttered something that could’ve been either a curse word or “stubborn” or both.
“Thank God you’re okay.” Lindsey hurried over to me and gave me a quick black orchid-scented hug. She grabbed the chair at my side while Jamie snagged the one on my other side. I couldn’t decide if they were surrounding me protectively or about to interrogate me.
That would probably be Lila’s job, since she was taking her usual spot at the head of the table. We were in one of the club’s random back rooms. Coming back here so soon after feeling like I’d been chased out had been hard. But what wasn’t today? And I had my band and Cooper with me, even if he was still glaring at me with enough heat I didn’t even have to look at him to know.
“I really am okay.” My voice wobbled so I said it again. I’d say it as many times as necessary until I believed it. “I’m okay.”
Jamie tipped up my chin and examined my face as if she was looking for wounds. “You need a puffiness minimizer though and some mascara. Maybe a little shadow. Hang on.” She leaned down and grabbed her satchel-sized purse, heaving it onto the table hard enough to snap a leg. “I have what you need.”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“Girl, you need your warpaint.”
“But I’ll get makeup for the show.” I touched my fingertips to my cheeks. “Do I look that bad?”
“No,” Cooper snapped before jerking to his feet.
Jamie cocked a brow. “Someone butt-hurt his baby browns aren’t the center of attention?”
He flipped her the bird before striding out and shutting the door behind him.
“Someday we’ll train dogs to play instruments and we won’t need men at all.” Jamie dug in her bag and came up with a brand new jar of high-end concealer. “Let’s start with this.”
“Ms. DuCaine, now really is not the time for beauty school.”
“Lila, she has under-eye bags. They’re more like gulfs.”
I bit my lip. “I had a rough morning. And night.”
“Right, so you need this. Let me apply.” Jamie unscrewed the top and blotted her fingers into the rich pearlescent cream. “Look upward. That’s a love.”
Lila sighed and set down her iPad. “I should’ve brought coffee. Why didn’t I bring coffee?”
Sympathetically, Lindsey rubbed my back as Jamie worked on me. I couldn’t even enjoy it, despite her deft hand. Knowing Cooper was pissed at me made my chest ache.
“My living on the bus
isn’t a crazy idea,” I muttered.
Lindsey’s hand stopped moving. “The bus?”
Jamie paused in her feathering and blotting routine long enough to shudder. “I’d need a chiropractor if I had to spend one more minute on those things. As it is, I can’t get into half the positions I used to before this damn tour.”
“Oh, to be slumming it,” Lila said drily. “They’re top-of-the-line investments. Trust me, no expense was spared.”
Jamie snorted. “Yeah, right. That’s why the top of my head has a permanent indent from Cooper’s size fifteen feet banging on the separation between our bunks when he has one of his dreams.”
My mouth dried. Size fifteen? Surely that was an exaggeration. Not my concern right now in any case.
And what dreams did she mean?
“You haven’t had Cooper’s feet anywhere near your silken dark tresses in months and you damn well know it. Now your rolling porn bus is just you and Alex and I.”
“My rolling porn bus? Excuse me, I know exactly who was playing reverse cowgirl after MSG and it certainly was not me. I don’t like country in any shape or form.” She tapped her chin before going back for more concealer. “Well, that’s a lie. I do enjoy a man in a Stetson now and then.”
“Right. I’m the one with Cooper’s big feet now.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, metaphorically. He doesn’t sleep that near me on our bus.”
“Buses will be discussed today,” Lila said smoothly as if she hadn’t even heard our latest variety of extreme TMI.
Considering all the bands she managed and how many years she’d worked for Ripper Records, this was probably nothing to her. Not to mention her own husband, who was Ricki’s twin brother and had a mouth salty enough to make a sailor blush.
“Can we get new ones? Tilt your head left. Other left. Little more. There we go. You have lovely skin. Do your freckles go all over?” Jamie waggled her brows and made me laugh in spite of everything.
The door opened again and Jamie swore as I wrenched my neck to look over my shoulder. Not Cooper. Instead, our gigantic bassist Oz strolled in with Zane. And behind them was Lord freaking Lewis.
“Ah, fuck,” Jamie muttered, trading her concealer for a wrapped tube of Bonnie Bell purple mascara. “I’ll be quick.”