IT WAS ALWAYS YOU

by Erika Kelly

Michelle: Her usual rant, but I’m taking care of it.

  Nope. Gigi didn’t work like that. She needed all the information.

  Gigi: Tell me what she said.

  Michelle: That you girls are a commodity, easily replaced. If you don’t perform per the contract’s explicit guidelines, she can easily put together another band. You want me to go on?

  Gigi: There’s more?

  Michelle: It’s Dale. Of course there’s more. Nothing I haven’t handled a hundred times in my career.

  But Gigi already knew.

  Gigi: She’s going to sue us for breach of contract.

  Michelle: Correct.

  Gigi: Will she win?

  Michelle: Unlikely. Keep in mind it’s less to do with actually recouping her losses and more to do with sending a message. She thinks it’ll make the next set of girls fall in line. It really comes down to how much money she wants to bleed over this. In my experience, most people wave the contract around and stomp their feet, but their attorneys keep them from following through with litigation that could go on for years.

  The cost of a court battle could wipe her out financially—and keep her in the press.

  Gigi: How bad’s my reputation going to be if we don’t put out this third album?

  Michelle: Let’s talk about it when it happens

  She loved her manager, but Gigi didn’t want anyone patting her on the head and treating her like a kid.

  Gigi: Just tell me. How bad?

  Michelle: It’s more than an album. It’s a tour, merchandise, and marketing contracts. It’s a big deal. But there’s nothing you can do about it.

  She’d been noodling an idea. It seemed pretty farfetched, but it kind of excited her.

  Gigi: There might be one thing…

  Michelle: what’s cooking in that brain of yours?

  Gigi: What if we pitched her a solo album? I’ve got a ton of songs.

  Unfinished, but she’d love to work on her own material.

  Gigi: I’m just thinking I could dissociate myself from the others if she signed me as a solo act.

  Michelle: I can pitch it, but I think you know she’s going for the girl band brand.

  Gigi: This might save the label’s reputation along with mine. I’d still be a Lollipop.

  When she thought of it like that, it lost some of its luster. Ugh. Did she really have it in her to write a whole album of super cheerful pop songs?

  It’s better than litigation and a damaged reputation.

  Gigi: Will you pitch the idea? I want to separate myself from the others.

  Michelle: Sure, I can ask. Safe travels tomorrow.

  Cassian came up to her. “Everything okay?”

  “My bandmates are screwing up. Pretty sure my label’s going to drop us, which means…well, the owner’s threatening a lawsuit.”

  “I’ve got a great entertainment lawyer—”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  He gave her a smirk. “And if you’re worried about expenses, most of these kinds of cases are settled out of court.”

  She leaned in to create a little more privacy. “I just pitched an idea to my agent.” Her anxiety was high not because Dale would reject it—but because she might actually go for it. “I was thinking I could make a demo of Lollipop-type songs and see if Clean Beatz would sign me as a solo act. It’d save my reputation and give me a way to transition into the next phase of my career.”

  “You want to write those kinds of songs?”

  “Ha. No, not at all. But I’ve got one more record on this contract anyway, so instead of touring with my band, why not do it by myself? I want to be taken seriously in the industry, and this would be the first step.”

  “That song you played this afternoon…could you do that with Clean Beatz?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “It’s damn good. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to lose this contract. If you walk away, you’ll be able to write your own songs and work with a label that’s a better fit. Memories are short in the entertainment industry, because the bottom line is always a product that will make money.”

  “I’m a Lollipop. No one will take me seriously until I reinvent myself.”

  “Let me ask you this. Putting aside your contract and all the obstacles, if your phone rang right now with the best news imaginable, what would it be?”

  She knew the answer to that one. “That Irwin Ledger wants to sign me to Amoeba records.”

  “Have you ever sent him your material?”

  “Oh, God, no. He doesn’t do pop music. He’s the best A&R rep in the industry. He only works with a couple bands at a time, and he turns them into superstars.”

  “That song you did with Grant…if you sent him that, he’d take you seriously.”

  “Cassian?” the baseball player called, holding out the microphone.

  Cassian held up a finger. Hang on.

  Grant shouted, “Come on, man, it’s your turn.”

  He hesitated, like he wanted to finish the conversation.

  “It’s okay, I’m not changing the world tonight. Go on.” Not wanting to draw attention to themselves, she headed for the karaoke machine. “I’ve got just the song for him.” Kneeling, she flipped through the choices, stopping when she found the one she wanted. “Okay, look out guys. Cassian’s pretty much expert level at this one.”

  She hit play, and when the first few notes of “UpBeat” came on, everyone burst out laughing. Cassian shook his head with a look that said, I’ll get you back for this.

  Being a good sport, he took the microphone and faced the group. “Why would I know a song like this? Isn’t it for teenagers?” But then he started singing, not even looking at the lyrics scrolling across the screen, which just made everyone crack up even harder.

  When he started dancing, the group lost it completely. An elite athlete, he moved with grace and pulled off the moves as well as any of the women in the band. He was hamming it up, belting out the lyrics, and her heart just squeezed.

  How could she not fall back in love with this man?

  Forget the picture the tabloids painted of him. This week, she’d seen him rent a Mustang for a seventeen-year-old boy, cradle the baby sister of one of the patients, and make dinner for the fifteen people on this tour.

  He’d opened up his heart and shared some hard truths, and he’d stood there and taken everything she’d had to say. Even when it hurt.

  She’d seen him vulnerable and funny, sensitive and strong. Kind, intelligent, charming…God, he was everything.

  She knew all the reasons not to be with him, but Cassian was worth the risk, dammit.

  When the song ended, everyone went nuts. She just felt so happy. Their group had become close this week. But, mostly, she felt so much…affection for Cassian.

  Yeah, affection. That was as far as she was willing to go right now.

  Cassian took a bow and handed the mic off to Grant. Then, locking eyes with her, he strode into the kitchen of his suite. Coming around the island, he stopped in front of her, lowering his mouth to her ear. “I won’t stop, you know.”

  She could feel the heat of his body, and she had to press her elbows to her ribcage to keep her arms from lifting to touch his chest. “Stop what?”

  “You can keep punishing me, and I’ll take it. I’ll take it until it sinks in that I’m never going to hurt you again.”

  Was that what she was doing? Punishing him?

  She squeezed his forearm. “I don’t mean to punish you.” She let out a sharp breath. “I think I’m testing you.”

  “Good. Keep testing me, because when it comes to you, I will not fail. You hear me, Gigi? I won’t fail you.”

  “I hear you.” This was what she’d wanted back then, for him to want her so badly, that if she’d sliced him open, she’d see his love for her clean through to the bone.

  “Come here.” Grabbing her hand, he led her into the bedroom and closed the door.

  Over the thundering of her heart, she could hear Grant sin
ging “Fat Bottom Girls,” the others laughing and singing along.

  “You forgive me?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I do.”

  Everything in him just melted, relief softening his features, his muscles, his bones. Cheeks stained with color, he closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Thank God.” And then his eyelids popped open. “Because I forgive you, too.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “Made me sing your Lollipop song in front of people who once looked up to me. They’re never going to ask for my autograph again.”

  She laughed. “This is the man I wanted back in high school. The man who knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was me.”

  He looked resolute, fierce. “I’ve always wanted you this much.”

  Emotion crashed over her. Grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt and hauling him toward her so hard he lost his footing. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He looked bleak, stark. “You have no fucking idea.”

  “But I do. That hole you talked about? I have it, too. Most days, I go through the motions. I just feel restless and…”

  “Incomplete. I know. Gigi, I know.”

  Cupping the back of his neck, she pulled him to her, covering his mouth, smothering his words. She needed him.

  All of him.

  She didn’t have to wait. His hands slid down her back, pushing up the fabric of her dress and grabbing her ass. Lifting her, he pressed her against the wall and licked into her mouth, his hunger, his need, igniting every cell in her body.

  No one had ever kissed her so deeply, so passionately. She clutched the hair at the back of his neck, her hips shifting against him, craving the kind of connection only he could satisfy.

  He pulled his mouth off hers. “Fuck, Gigi. Fuck.” He trailed kisses down her neck, his face burrowing into her cleavage. “You drive me wild. Your smell, the way you taste, move, talk. Jesus, everything about you is just…mine. You’re mine.”

  He lowered her a little, so his cock aligned with her core, and when he pumped his hips, electricity tripped along her nerves.

  She drew him back and kissed him, the connection so powerful it was like their fused mouths were the only thing keeping her body fixed to the earth. The insistent pulse between her legs demanded friction. Frantically, she yanked open the buttons on his jeans, reaching under the elastic band of his boxer briefs to grasp his hard, hot erection. “Oh, God, Cassian…” He drove her wild.

  Shoving aside her panties, he slid a finger through her slickness and moaned. “Birth control?” His voice sounded rough as gravel.

  “Yes.” She said it frantically, breathlessly, desperate for him to fill her. “Are you—”

  “Clean. Totally.” He bent his knees, and then slammed up into her. Her head tipped back, her shoulders bracing her against the wall as she met his thrusts. Desire streamed, hot and wicked, and her legs clung to him.

  His hips snapped powerfully, his back grew damp, and he groaned like he was drowning in pleasure. “Ah, Gigi, dammit. You feel so fucking good.”

  She swiveled her hips, trying to get closer, bearing down on him to take him deeper. “Harder.” She cried out when he gave her what she wanted. “Yes. God.”

  His hands gripped her ass cheeks, spreading them, and he thrust deep and hard into her.

  “Gigi. Fuck.” He shifted at just the right angle for him to brush over her clit.

  Succumbing to the rush of sensation sweeping over her, she closed her eyes. As her climax bore down on her, desire whipped into a whirlwind of lust. Tighter and tighter she twisted, the tension so good, until she burst into a state of pure, carnal bliss. She jerked forward, clinging to his neck, her ankles digging into his ass so he wouldn’t stop. Never, ever stop.

  Oh, my God.

  He slammed into her, pinned her against the wall, as he bit down on her shoulder to stifle his cries. He released inside her with tight, quick punches of his hips.

  They clung to each other, the only sound their ragged breaths.

  Until…

  “Where’d they go?” someone said.

  She stiffened. “Shit,” she whispered.

  His forehead touched hers, and he let out a sigh of disappointment. Gently, he set her down, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I’ll go.” His movements dragged as he pulled up his boxers and buttoned his jeans.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” She stood on shaky legs, watching him go. Her spirit was still in his arms, still kissing him. She could feel the fullness of his cock inside her.

  Slipping into the bathroom, she faced herself in the mirror, taking in her swollen lips, disheveled hair, and pink cheeks.

  Slowly, reality settled in. She’d had sex with Cassian.

  With everyone on the other side of the door.

  It felt naughty and wild. Before her mind could start processing, before she could start retreating…she shook it off. She had the rest of the night to stare at her ceiling and wonder what she’d done.

  Though, she had a feeling she’d be smiling.

  Because that was hot.

  By the time she stepped out of his bedroom, the group had gathered at the door. “Well, I’ve made a big enough fool of myself for one night,” Grant said before heading out.

  “See y’all in the morning,” the baseball player said.

  Macy wrapped the cord around the karaoke machine and brought it to Cassian. “You want me to take this downstairs?”

  “Nah. The manager told me to leave it in the room.”

  “Okay, great.” She set it on the kitchen counter. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”

  The moment the door closed, Cassian came right up to her. “You regret it?”

  “Regret? No, that’s…I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

  “Gigi, I don’t…” His eyes flickered closed in frustration. “I don’t want it to end.”

  “The tour?”

  “Us.” He reached for her hand. “Come to Calamity. I’ve missed a week of my camp, so I have to go there. Otherwise, I’d go to LA with you.”

  “I can’t do that.” But even as she said the words her mind screamed, Why not? Her career was on hold. Either for another three weeks while Jess was in rehab or longer, if Dale dropped them. “I have to write songs, and you’re going to be busy every day. Besides, I mean, we got our closure. We’re good. It’s not like we can be together. Our lives are so different.” She was surprised how strongly she wanted him to convince her otherwise.

  “I don’t need closure. I want to bust the door wide open. You think I care how busy we are? That we live on opposite ends of the country? I want you, and if you think I can walk away after I finally got you back, you’re out of your mind. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But you are going somewhere. After camp, you start training. And then you’re either playing football in Boston or on the road.” It wouldn’t work…right? “And if Dale doesn’t tear up our contract, I’ll be on a world tour in a couple of months. There’s no chance for more.”

  Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “I don’t care if you’re on the moon. That isn’t going to change the way I feel about you. I’ve never wanted anyone else, and I never will. We have a chance here, and we’d be crazy not to take it. Let’s do this Gigi. Let’s do it right this time.”

  “I don’t know.” Of course she wanted to. She longed to. But… “This isn’t high school, and we don’t have the kinds of jobs that would keep us in the same town. I don’t see how we can work.” She had this crazy feeling, like she was pushing him to find the right words to keep them together.

  “No one can see into the future. All we can do is try. I’m never going to be with anyone else. I knew that when I was fourteen, and I know it now. Give us a chance.” He pulled her close.

  The urgency in his grip, the perfection of his words…it was everything she wanted and yet… “I don’t know. Just…let me think. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” She snagged her keycard and wallet off the counter and h
urried out the door.

  He followed her into the hallway. “I’m not giving up on us, Gigi. I did that once before, and I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  Cassian stared into the darkness. Every time he’d start to drift off, he’d remember.

  The tour had ended. In a few hours, they’d ride the van to the airport together but then take different flights. She’d go to LA, and he’d go to Calamity on the Cavanaugh foundation’s jet.

  He wouldn’t give up, of course. It’d just be damn hard with them so far apart and so busy.

  And, of course, there’d be photos published. The press would make shit up, like they always did. Gigi would see them, and he’d have no way of convincing her of what really happened.

  That’s it. He was too wired to sleep. “Dammit.” He threw off the covers and headed into the bathroom. Might as well pack. Turning on the shower, he waited for it to heat up before stepping inside. Lowering his head, he let the water saturate his scalp.

  He thought of the studio in her parent’s house. State of the art, because…Joss. She made sure her girls had everything they needed to realize their potential. Gigi’s mom was a force of nature.

  So, Gigi could work on her songs in Calamity.

  Hope, that relentless bitch, came back swinging.

  It’s not even five. He still had time to convince her. He’d go to her room and try again.

  He’d fucking never stop trying.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, packed and ready to check out, his body thrumming with energy, he knocked on her door. He didn’t hear a blow dryer or shower or anything. With one hand he knocked again, and with the other he pulled his phone out of his jeans.

  Cassian: I’m here.

  That could mean anything. She might think he was in the lobby or in the restaurant getting breakfast.

  Cassian: Outside your door.

  Nothing. “Gigi?” He pounded. When he realized he was getting worked up, he took a step back. If she didn’t want to talk to him, he couldn’t force her.

  She needed to do this at her own pace. It’s only going to work if we both want the same thing. He had to cool his jets.

  He just knew, though, in his gut, if he didn’t get more time with her—in person—they’d drift apart.