by Kacey Shea
“I’ll let you know by Monday.”
“If I don’t hear from you, expect another call.” Rachel is no-nonsense, one of the things I’ve always loved about her. That and pushing her buttons.
“So, what else did you call to chat about?” I try half-heartedly with a need to lighten the mood. Usually when I razz our lawyer, it’s because it gets my dick hard. Movement from the corner of my vision steals my attention. Jayla climbs into her sleep bunk without a single glance in my direction.
“Did you get into more trouble?” Rachel’s irritated reply does nothing for me.
Tonight, my cock is otherwise occupied. Hell, for the last two weeks it hasn’t wanted anyone other than Jayla Miller. “No.” Jesus. “It was a joke.”
“With you, I can never tell. We’ll talk Monday. Goodbye, Austin.”
I set my phone down and stare at Jayla’s bunk, willing and wishing for her to open the curtain, or better yet, invite me in. But I killed that chance the second my phone rang. I release a groan of irritation and scrub a hand over my face. I came so close to kissing her, I can almost taste her. My body tenses and my dick throbs with desperation. I was so close, but now it’s not gonna happen. Jayla isn’t the type of woman to overlook that type of behavior.
I fuck up everything good.
As if the universe doesn’t want me to forget, my phone pings with an incoming text. My stomach lurches when I check the screen. It’s from the discreet private investigator I’ve been in contact with since last year. The one I can never tell a soul I hired. I’ve screwed up so much in my life, but even I know how bad it would look if this comes out.
More profiles for review. Let me know if they’re what you’re looking for.
I glance at Jayla’s bunk. It’s not as if she can read my cell from there, but wariness sets into my bones at the thought of her discovering what I’ve been up to. It would be a relief to come clean. To tell her, or someone, but that’s only selfish talk. This is my cross to bear. My wrong to right. I glance around the bus once more to be sure everyone is sound asleep before reaching for my laptop and slinking into the far corner of the booth to power it up.
Shame and regret wash over me as I flip through the photos this PI collected. I have to give it to him, I don’t know how he finds them. These women—no, they’re just girls—caught in the most desperate of situations. My pulse races, the anticipation and hope of finding a familiar face amongst this new collection of photos pushes my gaze across the screen with near manic devotion. But by the last photo, my heart rate slows and disappointment pools in my gut. She’s not here. I’m left with another failure. Another fuck up. One I can’t seem to make up for.
I delete the email. Clear my browser. Slam the laptop shut with more force than necessary, and bite back the urge to cry. Most days I pretend just fine. My selfish nature pushed me toward greatness, success, and the life I have now. But at what cost? Will I ever be allowed to repent for my sins, or will they continue to eat at me from the inside? I wish I could forget. Or move on. I’ve tried that, but no matter how far we tour, I can’t escape the guilt.
With my cell balanced in hand, I type out a reply, waiting for it to send before deleting all evidence from my phone.
Keep looking.
No answer comes, but I don’t expect it to. The guy I hired has as much to lose as I do. I can imagine the headlines now. Three Ugly Guys lead guitarist, Austin Jones, hires PI to collect child porn for his personal collection. No, I can’t tell Jayla, or anyone else for that matter. I’m not sure any explanation would be justification for what I’m doing. This would only give her another reason to push me away, and the thought of Jay walking back out of my life is about the worst reality I can imagine.
I glance at her bunk, not sure what I hope to find there. Nothing but the low hum of our driver Ace singing along to a song in his head and the steady rumble of the coach’s engine meets my ears. Resolve blooms from the feeling of helplessness in my gut. I refuse to accept this fate. I won’t give up. Not on myself. Not on the need to right my wrongs. And especially not on a future with Jayla. Yeah, I fucked up, but chances are it won’t be the last time.
An idea hits me and I grab my phone, taking it into the bathroom with the determination to wriggle my way back into her good graces. There’s something important I need to tell her, and while she probably won’t listen to me right now, she might with a little outside pressure.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, having to work to gain someone’s attention, but hell if it doesn’t feel more important than anything I’ve ever done. I’ll become the kind of man she deserves. It may not come naturally, but I’m stubborn enough to get there. For her, I’d do just about anything. She’s worth it.
127
Jayla
The next morning, I wake to the muffled sounds of people moving around the bus. Their hushed voices tell me I’ve slept longer than I should have. I like to be the first up and last to sleep, but the schedule we’ve been keeping, it’s wearing on me. The glide of a moving bus tells me we haven’t pulled into our next stop yet. I reach for the privacy curtain, but the memory of Austin’s late night call flashes through my mind and I hesitate.
Masking my face with an expression of indifference, I slide from the sleep bunk, but only find Trent, Sean, and Lexi in the kitchen. “’Morning,” I say and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“’Morning, Jayla.” Lexi grins.
“How does it feel to be famous?” Sean meets my gaze and then moves from his seat at the table, setting his cell on the counter between all of us while he refills his mug. He tips his chin to Lexi. “Check the stats again.”
She drags his phone closer.
“Six million views. Fucking hell.” Trent’s brows shoot into his hairline and he glances at me with wide eyes.
“Jayla, have you seen this?” Lexi hands me the phone as the pieces click together. The video Austin edited last night. He must have posted it.
“I can’t believe he posted another video.” Trent slings an arm around her shoulders, his grin wide as he flicks his gaze to Austin’s sleeping bunk. “Our little rebel is trying to get us on the shit list.”
As if he’d been waiting for the mention, Austin whips open his sleep bunk and stumbles out. I try not to stare, really I do, but his shirtless form and the low-slung sleep shorts hugging his hips do nothing to hide the span of tattooed, muscled chest. He looks half asleep, his eyes hooded, and that only adds to his sex appeal. He reaches down to his crotch to adjust his junk, and it’s only then I glance away.
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 i
s 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?