by Jennifer Ann
Say what you will about the guy, Beckett has always known exactly what to say to get my motor running. He’s a real charmer in addition to the smoldering looks and killer bod. It’s the reason I’m unable to resist him after I’ve had a few drinks. Then again, he can also turn on a dime—one minute all smiles and sweet talk, the next a blur of curse words and thrown chairs.
Once I’m able to catch my breath again, I giggle nervously. “What are you saying? You’re actually ready to give up other women and make this thing between us real? C’mon. We both know you’re full of shit. Your ego couldn’t handle that kind of commitment. You say that now, but the minute you see a tall blond with big tits, it’s all over. You know I love you. You’ve been my closest friend ever since I got outta high school. We have a good time, you and me. Don’t try to screw it up.”
I’m frozen to the floor as he bends down, taking my lips with his, cupping each of my butt cheeks in his hands. His facial hair tickles my lips as his warm tongue finds its way inside, tasting like toothpaste and bubble gum. An electric shock runs from my mouth down to the sweet spot between my legs, reminding me just how good of a lover Beckett has proven to be, again and again. Ugh. I haven’t kissed anyone this way in months. Despite my reserves, I answer his kiss with hesitation and run my fingers through his coarse hair.
He comes up for air, brushing his lips from my chin up to my ear and yanking on my lobe with his teeth. Agh, the things this boy can do. And he likes it rough.
“We’re good together, baby,” he whispers. “Think about it. I’ll be here when you’re ready to realize it’s not worth fighting your feelings.”
Damn my hormones to hell, and damn Mick Flanagan for not making it clear what he wants. I close my eyes, savoring the way Beckett continues to kiss on my neck, holding me so tight that I can feel his large erection against my stomach, straining to get out. His mouth moves back onto mine, and he pulls up on the edges of my artfully ripped Hendrix t-shirt to give him full access to the girls.
What in the hell am I doing?
“Wait,” I say, pulling his hands and my shirt back down. “We can’t do this here. If Ozzy walked in he’d have both our hides.”
Beckett grunts with a fire in his eyes. “Fine. You’ll come back to me when you’re ready.” He gives me one last tongue-fueled kiss before pushing me away and storming from the back room. I stand exactly where he left me, flustered and eager for more.
I’m nearly ready to leave the house and meet Mick down at Flanagan’s when there’s an urgent knocking at the front door. I wait for my brother to answer, but the banging continues so I run down to answer.
On the other side of the door, Landon detaches Beckett from his shoulder and pushes him my way. “He’s all yours.”
I struggle to grab Beckett before he falls to the ground. The foul stench of booze rolls off him in waves. He snuggles into me with an excited yet lidded gaze. “Chloe, baby!”
Landon rakes a hand through his hair, scowling. “The dumb son of a bitch drove like this down to the warehouse. I was going to take him home until he puked all over my car. Your place is closer, so you win. See you tomorrow.”
“Wait!” I call after he’s turned his back on me. “I’m on my way to meet someone. Can you please do me a colossal favor and watch him for me? Just this once? Please, Lando, it’s kind of a big deal. There’s this guy—”
“No can do, Chloe. You’re not the only one with plans tonight. And you know I can’t deal with him when he’s like this. You’re the only one who can bring him back down.” He lifts a hand in the air as he walks away. “Later.”
I slam the door shut, swearing under my breath as I run through my options. I could stay with Beckett and babysit him like the immature idiot he becomes when drunk, or I could throw him on my couch so he can sleep it off while I’m off with Mick.
“You smell so fucking good,” Beckett says, nuzzling my face with his chilled nose. “Have I mentioned how much I miss you?”
With my face burning hot, I lean away. “Damn it, Beck, you know I have a date tonight! Why do you always have to put a kink in my plans like this? Did you do this just so I wouldn’t be able to go out?”
“I need you, baby girl.” His hands run underneath my shirt to stroke my bare stomach. “God, you’re so soft. No other girls feel this soft.”
I yank his arm off me. “You have some real issues, you know that?” I push him toward the living room. “Lay down on the couch. I’ll deal with you when I get home later.”
“Please, don’t leave me,” he pleads, giving me the look of a lost little boy. Behind the drunk asshole on the exterior I see a glimpse of the friend who’s always been there for me over the years. The one who helped me pay rent a few times when I was short, the one who defended me when an idiot booed me on stage, the one who patiently taught me how to play the complicated Metallica song I had troubles nailing. The list goes on and on.
He steps closer and traces the line of my cheek with his fingertip. “You’re right, I have issues. I’m lonely and I miss being with you. All the other girls I’ve been with…they’re just a filler, a way to take a bite out of being alone all the time. Don’t blow me off for the Irish asshole. It’ll kill me if you walk out that door and leave me here.” Wrapping himself around me, he inhales the scent of my skin. “Please, just let me hold you. It’s all I want. It’s not too much to ask, is it?”
Inhaling a long, deep breath, I already know I’m going to give in and stay with him because he’s my friend and he needs me. He’s never turned me down in all the times I came to him.
It kills me when I call Mick with the lie that I’m not feeling well.
“Ah, sorry to hear. Can I bring you anythin’?” he asks in true Mick-style.
“You’re sweet, but I’d hate for you to catch whatever’s going on. Send me the band’s website, and I’ll be happy to give them a listen for your sister.”
“Another time then?” His voice is tinged with hope.
Beckett slips his arms around my waist from behind, placing little kisses on my neck. It drives me so wild I can hardly concentrate on my conversation with Mick. “Yeah, sure.”
I eagerly await for another call from Mick, but it doesn’t come. I guess it serves me right after I blew him off to take care of Beckett, even though I didn’t let anything happen between us beyond cuddling. Still, it was a reminder that I’m in the wrong place to start a relationship with another guy. Maybe ever. The twisted past I have with Beckett will follow me no matter how hard I try to keep him at bay.
A few weeks after my canceled date with Mick at a time when the chill of winter has finally left and the city is coming back to life, I join the girls at Flanagan’s to celebrate Glori’s decision to move to the city. It turns out her modeling gig with the big designer caused an avalanche of offers that she just couldn’t turn down.
“Here’s to new adventures with my big sis!” Kelly declares, holding her shot of Patron over the center of the table. The rest of us bring our glasses up to meet hers.
“You have no idea what you’re in for!” Jewels adds, clinking her glass with Glori’s.
Glori’s eyes dart between the two of them. “You’re starting to make me nervous.”
Just as I’m following my shot up with a lime, I see Mick and the busty brunette enter the bar. Her arm is looped through his and they both have these incredibly stern looks to them like someone died. My heart sinks at the sight of the beautiful woman at his side.
“Jesus, again?” Kelly hisses, looking their way. She meets my gaze. “Sorry, Chloe. I keep forgetting to ask Mick about her. I’m going to go over and ask him to introduce me.”
“No!” I grab her arm, holding her back. “Not now. They look upset. Just give them space. If Mick wants us to meet her, he’ll come over. I don’t want to interrupt their time together.”
“You have a thing for that bartender?” Glori asks, raising one brow. She seems to be trying to leave the snooty bit behind her, but I can hear
the incredulous tone to her voice. I guess the service industry isn’t the kind of career she envisions when choosing a mate. Bless her heart, she’s putting in a real effort to leave her uptight ways behind.
“More like they have a thing for each other,” Kelly tells her. “He took her to a concert.”
“You know Mick, he was probably just being friendly.” I desperately search for the waitress. “Can we do another shot?”
Kelly touches my arm. “Okay, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I know for a fact he’s totally into you. He hasn’t shut up about you since you went to the concert. And you have way more to offer than old Fake Boobs over there.”
“You do have a really nice set of breasts,” Glori agrees, nodding.
I laugh at Glori’s genuine sentiment even though it sounds a little awkward coming from her. It seems to be her way of trying to get along with us. “Thanks, ladies, really, but it’s okay. I don’t have time for all that dating shit anyway. Beckett heard a rumor that a producer who saw one of our demos online is coming to see us perform tomorrow night. I need to focus on my music if I’m ever going to get this career in motion.”
“A producer?” Jewels asks, her voice raising a pitch. “Chloe, that’s awesome!”
“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited,” I say with a shake of my head. “I know how these things go. It could be nothing more than a rumor. And just because he might watch doesn’t mean anything will come out of it. I won’t believe it until I see it.”
Jewels beams at me, her eyes wide. “Omigod, what if you got a recording contract? Does that mean you’d go on tour and shit? Could I be one of your roadies? You wouldn’t even have to pay me! I’ve always wanted to travel on a tour bus!”
“Simmer down, Yoko Ono,” Kelly says with a roll of her eyes. “The girl just said it’s not a sure thing, though I would also expect a pass on that bus.”
“I’d have to get a bigger fan base before we can take this show on the road,” I tell them, smirking. “But your support has been stellar, J. I guarantee you’d both have a spot on our bus.”
“Yesssss!” Jewels cheers before sticking her tongue out at Kelly.
I look across the bar to where Mick and the tall brunette have settled around a small table. She’s snuggled into him with her head resting on his shoulder. When the waitress comes to my side, I smile boldly at my friends. “Who’s ready for that next shot?”
When our gig comes in a dark dive on Lexington, I’m a nervous wreck. It’s nearly impossible to block out the vision of a producer lurking somewhere in the audience. I try to take my mind somewhere else, like to how I’m going to make myself forget about Mick and move ahead. Apparently my attempts to act normal are a major fail, as Beckett so ungracefully points out as we’re taking the stage down.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he asks, nudging me in the back. “You skipped an entire verse on the last song!”
Setting Blue Beauty down, I wipe at my sweat-filled forehead. “Give me a break, would you? I was nervous as hell knowing there could be someone out there wanting to offer us a deal! We’ve never had to perform under that kind of pressure.”
“We probably won’t be offered shit after that travesty.” He throws his guitar case on the ground and kicks at the microphone stand, making me jump.
Landon is suddenly behind us. “Ah, guys…someone’s coming up here.”
We watch as a middle-aged guy in a black t-shirt and jeans approaches the stage, carrying the undeniable arrogance only someone important knows how to pull off without coming off as a prick. He’s more the non-threatening type you’d sit back and have a few beers with before playing a round of darts. He folds his arms over his broad chest, sticking his hands into his armpits. The glint of his diamond earrings catch in the light. “That was quite some show you guys put on.”
“Thank you,” I say with a bright smile. I offer him my hand. “Chloe Cirillo.”
The man doesn’t take my hand. “Oh I know who you are.” His dark eyebrows raise. “Do you have a minute, Chloe?”
I eye Beckett cautiously. Grinning deeply, he nods his approval. The excitement rocketing between us is so palpable that I feel as if I could reach up and grab it.
This could be the moment I’ve been waiting for.
I smile back at the man with twitching lips. “Sure.” Climbing down the steps off the stage, I follow him through the crowd to an empty table in the back. He pulls a chair out for me, so I sit.
“My name’s Ricky Campbell. I work for Shiver Studios in Brooklyn.”
“I’ve heard of it,” I say anxiously, twisting my lucky black opal ring around my finger.
“After I saw your cover of Whore on YouTube, I decided to catch one of your shows and see if you have the charisma you had behind the camera.” He leans across the table, pinning me down with his confident gaze. “To be honest, you could use a little work on a few minor details, but I think it’d be worth my time to see if you can improve. Overall, you’re the total package. I think people would go nuts over you.”
I gasp, touching my chest. “Really? I’m beyond flattered, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate you taking the time to come here and see us. The guys will be so—”
“Just you,” he clarifies with a shake of his head. “I’m not interested in your bandmates. Only you. They’ve got the kind of mediocre talent that can be replaced.”
“Oh.” Glancing to the stage, I catch Beckett’s eye. He’s pretending to pack things up on stage, but I can tell he’s been watching me the entire time. I give him my best attempt at a reassuring smile before turning back to Ricky.
“You have what it takes to make it in this industry with your unique sound,” he continues. “Maria Brink, Amy Lee, Cristina Scabbia, Lzzy Hale, they’re all within your league. And the extra thing you have going for you is the fact that you’re attractive in addition to being, what, maybe five foot two barefoot? No one would expect the kind of sound you can create from that small body. Your voice could sell a lot of records. I’d like to have you come down to the studio some time and create a clean demo of just you.”
I want to jump from the table and scream, pump my fists in the air. His compliments spin through my head. It’s exactly the kind of validation I’ve been looking for ever since I first picked up a guitar. To be compared to such a stellar list of women in the metal industry is the most ultimate of compliments I could’ve hoped for.
Then I picture breaking the news to the guys and my stomach drops.
“Mr. Campbell, while I appreciate what you’re saying, because believe me, I really can’t think of anything more flattering, do you think maybe you could give Beckett and Landon another shot? They’re some of the best around, and I think—”
“I understand your loyalty, but I’m really not interested in anyone other than you.” He pushes a business card into my hand as he stands. “If you decide you’d like to work with me, call the studio and set up an appointment. We can discuss in greater detail the kind of future I see you having if you decide to venture out on your own.”
Looking down at the card in my hand, I nod. “Thanks for coming all this way to give us a chance. I’ll think about it.”
He stands hovering over me, cracking a small smile. “Don’t think too long. The industry is in constant motion. By the end of the week I might be looking for a totally different sound. Best advice I can give is for you to take the offer while it stands.”
I wordlessly watch him weave his way out of the bar. He’s only gone for a minute before Beckett comes bounding my way with the spirit of a little boy on Christmas morning who’s expecting a lot more than what Santa delivered. “Did he really leave already? What’d he say?”
There comes a time in everyone’s life when it becomes perfectly okay to dish out a white lie, especially when you haven’t had time to properly craft a better way to break the kind of truth that could wreck a person. I drop my shoulders and smile. “He said he’s going to think on it. He wants us to give him a
call next time we play.”
“I fucking knew it!” Beckett pulls me from the chair in one sweeping gesture, hugging me with my feet dangling above the floor. “He’s going to offer us a deal, I can feel it! This is our shot, baby!”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warn among a fit of giggles. “He didn’t promise anything.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Beckett sets me down and looks into my eyes, his hand resting on my cheek. “My girl is going to get us the deal of a century.”
With guilt tearing apart my insides, I let him kiss me on the lips.
Chapter 3
I can hardly open my eyes when the alarm on my phone quietly buzzes. The falsified celebrations continued with some of our friends from another band, drinking way, way beyond my limit. I don’t remember much after the third round of shots. By this point in my life, I know I should stay away from the dumb things, but sometimes I have to keep up with the guys if I don’t want to take their shit all night for being a “little girl.” And Beckett was in such an epic mood, I didn’t want to let on that something was amiss.
I reach for my phone with one hand, while guarding my pounding eyes with the other. My fingers fall on warm flesh.
Oh...shit.
I open my eyes to see Beckett’s naked backside only a few feet away from me, stirring from my touch. Man, does that boy have one helluva physique. He’s not muscular, but solid and miraculously fit for someone who refuses to work out. The tattoo I gave him while I was still under my apprenticeship containing Foo Fighters’s Walk lyrics is on the side of his ribs exposed to me, waiting for me to run my fingers along it. With that thought, the night comes back to me in brutal, small snippets.