Tell Me

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Tell Me Page 8

by Olivia Cunning


  Apparently Gabe wasn’t the only member of the band who knew his way around the female anatomy.

  Gabe cleared his throat. “Would you two like to be alone?”

  Kellen started. “Gabe!” he said, smiling widely, and pounded Gabe on the back as if he hadn’t seen him in years. “When did you get here?”

  “I was here before you arrived.”

  “Didn’t notice,” he said.

  “With Dawn beside you, I doubt you’d notice if the room was on fire,” Gabe teased.

  “She does demand attention.”

  Dawn went pink.

  “So you somehow talked Melanie into joining us for the evening,” Kellen said, leveling his deep, dark eyes on Melanie. When this man centered his attention on her, she definitely noticed. Her knees wobbled unsteadily. She wasn’t sure how Dawn was still standing after being subjected to Kellen’s attention all day.

  “He didn’t have to twist my arm too hard,” Melanie said with a laugh.

  “I was surprised your friend left in the limo without you,” Kellen said. “What was her name?”

  “Nikki.”

  “She didn’t seem too happy for someone getting a free ride in a limo.”

  Melanie’s heart thudded unpleasantly. “Was she crying?”

  When three pairs of eyes lowered to gaze at the floor, she wished she hadn’t asked.

  “She’ll get it over it,” she said. She hoped sooner rather than later.

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Mel,” Gabe said. “She didn’t start crying until I told her, rather bluntly, that I would not pressure you into having a threesome with her.”

  Melanie blinked in disbelief. “She didn’t?”

  Gabe and Kellen both nodded. So apparently Nikki had been causing a big enough scene that bystanders had caught on to her ploy.

  “I honestly don’t know what to do about her,” Melanie said. She rubbed at her forehead, hoping that would ease the tension gathered there.

  “Why do you think she’s your responsibility anyway?” Gabe asked.

  “Because she doesn’t have anyone else.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

  Melanie’s jaw dropped. Had that really just come out of Gabe’s mouth?

  Chapter Nine

  “That’s a really mean thing to say,” Melanie said, unable to believe that he could be so cruel.

  “You’re right,“ Gabe said, “that was uncalled for. I apologize. I don’t want to see her get hurt, but I care about you, and the relationship you have with Nikki is obviously stressing you out.”

  Melanie laughed sardonically. “It’s that obvious, is it? She’s not so bad when it’s just the two of us.” That wasn’t entirely true. Nikki was always needy, but she wasn’t always outlandish. She just needed lots of cuddles. And validation. And cash.

  “Good friends are hard to find,” Dawn said. “But those who claim to love you shouldn’t take advantage of your loyalty, they should cherish it.”

  Kellen shifted uncomfortably, and Melanie couldn’t even begin to guess why Dawn’s words of wisdom unsettled him.

  A sudden flurry of activity near the dressing room door drew Melanie’s attention. The door was propped open and the smell of spice and seafood accompanied several staff members dressed in white aprons. Tables were set up and a buffet was quickly laid out along one wall.

  “Dinner?” Melanie asked.

  “They do feed us occasionally,” Gabe said.

  “Why didn’t you say something? We wouldn’t have had to stop for sandwiches.”

  He leaned close to her ear. “And you wouldn’t have had time to try out my glove.”

  She bit her lip to hold in a laugh. “Good call.”

  “Hope you like it hot.”

  “You should already know that I do.”

  “I mean Cajun food. Jacob ordered it, and he likes it spicy.”

  It took Melanie a moment to remember that Jacob was Shade’s real name. “I’ve never had authentic Cajun food.”

  “You’re in for a treat then.”

  When Gabe said hot, he really meant “destroy the lining of your digestive system” spicy. The gumbo and jambalaya were delicious. Well, what she could taste of them. She was certain her tongue, her throat, and her stomach were on fire. She refused to try the crawdads, however. She couldn’t bring herself to eat something that still had legs and antennae. And eyestalks.

  After dinner the band was escorted out of the room for a meet and greet with a group of VIP fans. Melanie used the time to chat with Madison, who actually had a functioning brain when Adam wasn’t plastered to her side. Madison always had one eye on the door, though, eager for her lover’s return. Melanie completely understood the desire to be alone with someone she didn’t get to see often. Dawn excused herself to call her agent or something. Melanie wasn’t sure where Lindsey had gone, but she had to ask someone about her, so she settled for the only person in the room not wearing a “Staff” shirt.

  “So what’s the story with Lindsey?” she asked.

  Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently she got knocked up by Owen, and she didn’t have anywhere else to go. They’re not a couple or anything.”

  “So Owen is the father? Gabe sounded unsure.”

  “As far as I know,” Madison said. “She hangs all over him, so I just assumed… Why? Did you hear differently?”

  Melanie shook her head, deciding she must have misunderstood what Gabe had meant earlier. She felt bad for Owen, but she felt even worse for Lindsey. She couldn’t name a single man whose life had been completely turned upside down by the birth of an illegitimate child, but she knew of dozens of women who had to figure out how to raise a kid on their own while some deadbeat lived it up without a care in the world. She hoped Owen wasn’t like that. He seemed like a nice guy, but he obviously wasn’t interested in the baby’s mother. She supposed the more important question was how did he feel about the child?

  When the guys returned—in high spirits after being thoroughly worshipped by the VIPs—it was time to head for the backstage area and start connecting the musicians to their equipment. Gabe’s hook-up consisted of being handed a set of drumsticks and having a feed put in one ear. He spent the rest of his time backstage with Melanie in his arms, just holding her against him. He seemed to need the peace of rocking silently with her, and she didn’t mind being plastered against his chest one bit. In fact, she groaned in disappointment when he had to release her to take the stage. She supposed she could share him with the 15,000 people in the audience for one hour, just as long as she got him all to herself for the next seventy-two.

  “Enjoy the show,” he said and pecked her on the lips.

  The stage was dark when Gabe climbed behind his drum kit and Owen started the low bass line of the first song.

  Melanie had forgotten how loud rock concerts could be. When the rest of the band entered the song, she forced herself not to cover her ears with both hands. Standing in the wings of the stage to watch the concert was a privilege—she didn’t want to look like an inconsiderate idiot.

  Beside her, Madison was gazing at Adam in worshipful awe. The man could play a guitar, but somehow Melanie doubted that was what had his woman in danger of spontaneous combustion. On her opposite side stood Dawn, who wasn’t reacting to the music the way an average spectator would. She seemed to be concentrating on every note, as if dissecting the songs into pieces and mentally reconstructing the arrangement. Melanie couldn’t tell if the classical composer was impressed or underwhelmed by the metal band’s compositions, but she looked interested. Not only in the music, but also in the stage antics of Kellen and Owen, who fed off each other constantly.

  Melanie shifted so she could better see Gabe. It was no wonder she hadn’t recognized him as the drummer of the band the first time she’d met him. His drum kit was a behemoth of an instrument. She occasionally glimpsed the blur of his hand or a smidge of crimson red mohawk, but he was mostly invisible from this angle. His s
ound, however, dominated the stadium. Instead of watching the show as everyone else was doing, Melanie became determined to see more of Gabe. She got a strange thrill of excitement every time an inch of him graced her view.

  After the first song ended in a flurry of wailing guitars and rapid drum beats, Gabe shifted to reach for a bottle of water sitting near the edge of his drum set. Excitement raced through Melanie’s body. It really was him back there pounding away on the skins. He chugged from the bottle and when he set it back down, he caught her watching him. He grinned and beckoned her closer with two fingers.

  Melanie glanced at the main stage uncertainly. The band was waiting for Shade to stop talking to the audience so they could begin the next song. What could Gabe possibly want with her at that particular moment? Her curiosity got the better of her and she carefully made her way around the stage wing, avoiding equipment and wires on her way to the small open area just behind Gabe’s left elbow.

  “What?” she whispered loudly.

  “I just wanted you closer,” he said. He pulled something out of his pocket and stretched out his closed fist in her direction. A bit leery, she extended her open palm in his direction and he dropped two small rubbery things in her hand. She stared down at the bright yellow things in wonder.

  “Are these for my nipples?” she asked, flushing at the thought of trying out one of his inventions here on stage. It was true that no one would probably see her back here, but she wasn’t sure if she was bold enough to give them a try in public.

  Gabe snorted with laughter. “They’re earplugs, baby. To protect your hearing.”

  Melanie’s face flamed. “Oh.”

  And before she could thank him, he tapped an upbeat tempo on a cymbal and continued with a rapid progression around his drum kit, both feet stomping the pedals of two bass drums. Melanie crammed the earplugs in her ears and watched him work, astonished by his skill and speed. Though it no longer hurt her ears, she could still hear the music of the entire band, and she could see the audience beyond the stage, but as far as she was concerned, she was privy to an amazing drum solo played just for her.

  Gabe was completely entrenched in his music. His face was a mask of deliberation and something that bordered on rapture. She’d seen that look on his face before. He wore it in the moments he was focused on giving her pleasure, just before he lost himself to his own bliss and let go of concentration in favor of instinct. She was pretty sure she was not supposed to get sexually aroused while watching a man thump a punishing rhythm on a set of drums, but apparently her libido had gone into drummer-groupie mode. Her attention focused on the flex of his biceps, the drops of sweat that trickled down his neck, the expansion of his chest as he drew air into his laboring lungs, and the nod of his head as he lost himself in the cadence. For the first time in Melanie’s life, she understood why so many women lusted after musicians. She was certainly lusting after hers.

  When the song ended, Gabe wiped the sweat from his face with the hem of his T-shirt.

  Slightly winded, he smiled at her. She grinned like a fool, only with determination keeping herself from launching onto his lap. He was working, and it would be very bad form to interrupt him in the middle of his job. It was hard to believe he got paid—and paid well—to do something he so obviously loved. She wished she could say the same thing about her accounting job. It paid the bills and she was good at it, but it didn’t make her lose herself. She’d never had that absorbed, rapturous look on her face when she was at work. Not unless she was in the bathroom interacting with Gabe on her phone.

  Did he realize how lucky he was to do what he did for a living? But then Gabe was the type of guy who would immerse himself in anything he loved. She imagined he had that same look of enraptured concentration on his face when he was tinkering with his inventions. She wondered what other activities inspired that look.

  The band played song after song. Melanie was sure everyone was having a great time, but she was too preoccupied with a certain skilled drummer to notice. When Gabe stood and saluted the crowd from behind his drum kit and then hopped down from the riser, Melanie was surprised that the concert was already over. She’d have been content to stand in her little corner of the stage watching him play forever. On his way past her, Gabe gave her a brief, very hot, very sweaty hug, and then trotted to the front of the stage to take his bows and toss his beaten-up drumsticks into the audience.

  Realizing her time to fixate on Gabe while he performed was over, Melanie removed her earplugs and edged her way back to where Madison and Dawn were waiting for the band’s two guitarists to leave the stage.

  “You couldn’t see much from back there, could you?” Madison asked.

  Melanie grinned. “I saw everything I wanted to see.”

  “They’re quite good,” Dawn yelled. “Once the ears become accustomed to the volume.” She touched a finger to her ear and winced. “My hearing will never be the same.”

  “Well, Beethoven was deaf and it didn’t stop him from composing,” Melanie teased.

  Dawn frowned. “I’m not sure I would want to go on living if I lost music. I can’t imagine what that was like for such a brilliant composer.”

  Melanie hadn’t meant to make her morose. Luckily Kellen was the first to leave the stage and when he touched her cheek and brushed her lips with his, Dawn lit up from the inside out, all traces of sorrow vanishing in an instant. Melanie still found it hard to believe that the pair had been together for such a short period of time. There was something familiar about the connection between them, as if they were reincarnated lovers who had just rediscovered each other and had a lot of catching up to do.

  Gabe jogged off the stage and didn’t stop, hooking Melanie’s hand to lead her down the steps and along a hall, through a door, and into the dressing room. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we have to hurry to catch the plane,” he said.

  “You were amazing tonight.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

  “I enjoyed you mostly,” she admitted.

  Looking pleased by her compliment, he kissed her and grabbed his bag before heading into the bathroom. While she waited, she sent a text to Nikki. Just making sure you got to the hotel safely. We’ll be on the plane in about an hour, so I’ll have to turn my phone off. Everything okay?

  Nikki didn’t respond, but Melanie wasn’t surprised. She was sure Nikki was upset and hurting, but she’d get over it quickly. If there was one thing Nikki was good it, it was bouncing back after a fall. With the fucked-up childhood the girl had had, recovering from devastation was something she’d learned early in life.

  Shade entered the dressing room and Melanie stiffened. She really needed to get over her dislike of the man. He was an important part of Gabe’s life, and she wanted to be a part as well. Gabe tolerated her friend; it was only fair that she tolerated his.

  “Where’s Gabe?” he asked.

  “In the shower.”

  “Hurry him along,” he said. “Owen and Lindsey are already in the limo. We need to get to the airstrip as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll go see what’s keeping him,” Melanie said, smiling at the bonus of getting to see Gabe naked.

  She knocked on the bathroom door and eased it open. “Gabe, are you almost ready to go?”

  She entered the room, making her way through the steam to the running shower. She found Gabe leaning against the tile wall with his hair soapy and his eyes closed.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He started and opened his eyes. “Yeah. Shows always sap my strength. I get an incredible high while I’m on stage, and then the adrenaline wanes and I crash hard.”

  All those lean, wet muscles looked perfectly dynamic from her angle. His slack face looked tired though.

  “Do you want me to get you some coffee or something?”

  “Naw, I’ll catch a nap on the plane. But I would love a Gatorade if you can find one. I think I sweated out half my body weight tonight.”
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  “I’ll see what I can find. Shade says you need to hurry. They’re waiting for us in the limo.”

  Gabe rinsed himself, turned off the water and reached for a towel. “I’m on it.”

  She’d much rather stay and ogle him while he dried himself, but she was concerned for his comfort and so she returned to the dressing room and hunted through a mini-fridge behind the bar. She found mixers, liquor, beer, soda and water, but no sports drinks. She was about to go hunting for a drink machine in the stadium when he came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and looking slightly more alert.

  “I looked in the fridge, but all they have in there is alcohol, water, and soda. I was about to go search the stadium.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” he said. “Water will do.”

  Melanie felt a strange sense of self-importance as they walked hand in hand toward the exit. Envious female heads turned as they

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