eyond Desire Collection

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eyond Desire Collection Page 107

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al


  “I don’t know. Hell, we just met, and normally for me, last night would’ve been the end of it, but today something happened. I spent the day in my artist’s loft.” I shift forward and lock my gaze on hers. “Working.”

  Her eyes get big. “You painted today?”

  “Sketched. With charcoal.” I glance away, far more uncomfortable talking about my art than why I didn’t try to seduce my best friend.

  “What did you sketch?”

  For whatever reason, I think it’s important that she knows, so I say, “Lucy.”

  “I see.” She bites her bottom lip.

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “You like her.” Jax’s voice wobbles. “Everyone does.”

  That’s when realization hits me smack in the side of the head. Jax doesn’t have a thing for me. She’s jealous of Lucy. “Hey,” I say softly and hold out my hand. “Come here.”

  She stares at it, then tentatively places her hand in mine. I tug her over and wrap my arm around her, giving her a half-hug. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

  Laughing, she thumps me on the arm. “Don’t start hitting on me now, Keenan. It’s gross.”

  “Not on your life. I just wanted you to know that if you want a night of wild abandon, I know a few guys who’d be more than willing. Nice ones who will take care of you.”

  “The moment’s passed,” she says stiffly.

  “I figured as much. But I wanted you to know they exist. And about Lucy?”

  “Yeah?” She tilts her head to really look at me.

  “She’s pretty messed up right now. Me and her, we’re not that different, and that might be part of why I’m drawn to her. But she’ll never replace you. Got it?”

  She forces a smile. “Yeah.” Then she blushes. “I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I think it was about half a pint of tequila.”

  “Oh God,” she groans. “Don’t say that word ever again.”

  “As long as you don’t try to get in my pants again.” I grin and wink at her.

  She looks me up and down, then gives me a pouty smile. “No deal. You can’t ask a hot-blooded girl to agree to such hardcore demands.” She laughs and her eyes sparkle with mischief the way they usually do when we’re joking around.

  I chuckle. “Okay, perv. Keep your fantasy, but don’t be surprised when the tequila shots show up in the near future.”

  “Oh, damn you.” This time when her hand reaches for the door handle, she jerks and opens the door. “Let’s go look for your muse. She’s got to be here somewhere. There aren’t many other places in town she could be.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lucy

  Sitting in a booth, I swirl my straw around the cherry bobbing in my ginger ale. Even though I’m not hungover from the night before, alcohol is the last thing I want right now. Actually, I’m dying for a hot chocolate and a hot bath, but I’m not getting either anytime soon.

  “So what do you think?” Mike asks. He’d called while Holt was giving me a ride to town to ask if I’d be available to discuss singing in the band on a permanent basis. Without anywhere else to go, I’d suggested meeting at the bar to discuss it. And luckily when he found out I was carless, he’d agreed to give me a ride home later. We’d been in the bar ever since.

  I glance at the notebook in front of me. It’s a song list he wants the band to consider. One of them happens to be one of mine. It’s about meeting your soul mate and sticking with them no matter what. Everyone thinks it’s about Cadan and how love conquers all. It isn’t. I wrote it after my Mom found her mate and left Dad. “Sure, I can sing these.”

  “Even that last one?” He studies me with a concerned expression.

  He’s asking about “One Last Step.” My song. I shrug. “Sure. I like that song.” And I do. It helps me work through the conflicting emotions that have plagued me since the divorce.

  It starts running through my mind, and before I realize it, I’m humming the melody. It’s familiar and brings me a sense of comfort.

  Mike starts a slow background beat with his hands against the table and hums along with me. I smile. It’s been months since I’ve sung anything of mine, and the melody winds through me, taking hold the way it does when I’m singing something I’ve created. I can’t help myself. The words come spilling out.

  You take the road less traveled

  You say you know your way

  But we both know there’s more to living

  Than the path you chose yesterday

  As I’m singing the last verse, peace settles in my bones and my soul fills with a pure, euphoric state. My tone smoothes out, harmonizing with a voice I know better than my own. I turn in my seat and meet Cadan’s eyes. He’s crouching near me, singing the verse softly, emotion radiating from him. The love is overwhelming, and it’s spreading to everyone in the room. They’ve gone silent as they wait for us to finish the song, to give them what they crave. A few minutes of joy, of love, of contentment. I let everything go and lose myself to the words and him.

  Take my hand now, baby

  Don’t be afraid to meet me halfway

  Take that one last step, baby

  And meet me halfway

  Everything Cadan and I experience when we sing together is amplified to the audience, even when we don’t intend it to be. Most say it’s a mind-blowing experience that’s like a natural drug. It’s what makes our concerts sell out in less than three minutes when they go on sale. Or when they used to go on sale, before I left.

  I abruptly clamp my mouth shut and ignore the pleas from the bar patrons.

  “Luce,” Cadan says, his eyes pleading. “Can we talk?”

  I shake my head. “Now’s not the time.”

  “Please, love. There are things I need to say.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I try to snap at him, but it comes off as weak, like I don’t mean it. Sadness immediately replaces all the music-filled places in my heart.

  He holds his hand out to me, his expression understanding. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Just a few minutes and I’ll let you be. I promise.”

  I meet his eyes and see the person I met three years ago. The one I knew before the record deals. Before he was the rock god everyone catered to. None of our bandmates or roadies are here. No managers, no handlers, no one. It’s just me and him. He does nothing to hide the vulnerability written all over his face, and it nearly breaks me. As much as I hate him, I still love him. I will always love him. And no matter how far I go, no matter how much distance is between us, it will never go away. It’s at the core of me.

  Reaching out, I close my eyes as I slip my hand in his. His fingers are warm and clasp protectively around mine—gentle, yet firm. My traitorous body longs to be near him, to be touched by him, but my heart is breaking with the bittersweet reality of what lies between us.

  He tucks my hand between both of his, holding on as if I’m someone to be cherished and protected. The way he hasn’t held me in months.

  “Lucy?” Mike says. His hands are fisted and he’s casting murderous glances in Cadan’s direction.

  “What is it?” I ask him.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? Talk to him, I mean?” His tone implies he thinks I should run in the other direction. He’s right. I should. It’s what I’ve been doing. But it’s also clear Cadan isn’t going to go away until he’s had his say.

  I nod, fighting back tears. This is something I have to do.

  “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I choke out, overwhelmed by his concern, and then force myself to step closer to Cadan.

  Cadan wraps a protective arm around my shoulders and regards Mike with disdain, but he doesn’t say anything as he tugs me off to another table, one in a quieter corner where we can talk. He pulls out a chair for me and scoots his close so our shoulders are almost touching.

  After being away from him for so long, my instinct is to lean in. I stop myself and move my chair
to the left, pointedly putting some distance between us. He opens his mouth to talk, but I hold up a hand, stopping him. “Whatever you do, do not start singing or I’m out of here. Got it?”

  He gives me an incredulous look as if I’ve offended him, but then he starts laughing. “Fair enough.”

  The singing is my downfall. How could it not be? That’s when I go all mushy inside. His voice is a drug to me, and when I join in, we pull everyone under with us. It’s both the most amazing and the most terrible thing that can happen to a person. When trust is broken, as mine has been over and over and over again, it’s torture to be so connected and yet not be able to give oneself over to the emotion.

  If I go there one more time, I’ll be broken. I turn swiftly so we’re facing each other and then stare him hard in the eye. “Tell me why you did it? The real reason this time.”

  “The song, you mean?”

  The fact that he has to ask makes me want to weep. I nod and finish with a sad shake of my head. “I already know why you slept with the skanks. Ego and opportunity.”

  “Luce.” He huffs out a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Neither do I. Don’t you think that’s part of the reason I’ve been avoiding you?”

  “I thought you were pissed.”

  This time I let out a humorless laugh. “I am. Honestly, Cadan, I don’t know what else there is to say.”

  The silence stretches between us. I can’t take this. His proximity wears on my resolve. I want to touch him and share an inside joke. Write songs. Sing. Dance. Do all the things that were us before he turned into a first-class bastard. I’m just about to get up and bolt when his hand slips over mine.

  Reflexively, I wind my fingers through his, wanting that connection. He’s who I’m supposed to be with. The one who’s supposed to make me whole.

  “I never apologized,” he says, regret clear in his voice. “Not really.”

  “No, you didn’t.” I stare at our joined hands. Nothing about this is right. I know it in my heart. Gently I pull away. “The thing is, Cadan, you’re not good for me. I crave these little moments. The ones that feel so right. But they’re always fleeting, and my heart is left trampled and bruised. Only the bruises never seem to fade. Not even when you’re this person, the one who is sweet and considerate. When you’re as you are now.”

  “I haven’t been with anyone since you left.” He says the words as if he hadn’t even heard what I said.

  I raise one extremely skeptical eyebrow. Jeez. The urge to punch him makes my fingers curl. “What am I supposed to say to that? Congratulations?”

  “No.” He runs a frustrated hand through his dark blond hair. It’s a little longer than it had been when I left, and honestly, it looks good. “I needed a reality check, some time to get my head on straight. You leaving made that happen. I know I fucked up. Multiple times. God, how I fucked up. The life does something to people. Makes them feel like they’re greater than they are.”

  “You mean makes you feel like you’re greater than you are. I was there, too, remember? I have fans. Guys hitting on me who’d be more than happy if I pulled them backstage. Yet you didn’t see me fucking random people right under your nose for months on end.”

  “No? What about that guy you left with last night? Seth?” He spits his name out with utter disgust. “Jax’s friend, right?”

  What? How does he know Seth’s name? Had Jax said something in her drunken stupor? I stand and glare down at him. What I did with Seth is none of his damned business. “This conversation is over.”

  He jumps up and blocks my way. “Wait. Jesus. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You’re right. I was a total self-indulgent asshole.”

  “Was?” I say, totally put off by his accusation. After I’d caught him red-handed, the truth had come out. He’d been sleeping around on me for months.

  “Hey, I bailed on the tour. I’m here. Trying.”

  I refrain from rolling my eyes. Though I understand that for him, there is no bigger gesture. He lives for the tour, for the audience.

  “I’m not the same without you, Luce. Everything means less. You gotta give me a second chance.”

  He seems so sincere, so lost, that I sit back down. But I don’t know what to say. I can’t give him what he needs. Not without losing myself.

  Relief washes over his features as he settles in next to me again. “What can I do to make it up to you? To earn your trust again?”

  “You can start by telling the label that song is mine.” The anger and disappointment I’d been carrying around all these months floods my senses. He’d hurt me more than he knew by cheating, but when he stole my song and recorded it without me, he’d taken a piece of my heart that belonged to my dad. I couldn’t forgive what he’d done. Not unless he made it right. “I want it back. Then we’ll talk.”

  “I’ve already told them,” he says softly.

  My heart starts to pound, and I’m sure I haven’t heard him correctly. “You did?”

  He nods.

  “And?” What if they didn’t care? Was it lost to me forever?

  “They want you to come in and record it.”

  Shit. I was afraid of that. I stand again, ready to leave. “I can’t do that. I can’t sing with you. Not while things are like they are. And not that song. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

  As I turn to go he says, “Luce, they want you to record a solo version of it.”

  I freeze. When I’d left, the label had been less than happy. I’d offered to do a solo album, but they’d told my agent something about me not having the stage presence for a solo act. Now, since I ditched the tour, I’m in breach of contract. It doesn’t make for a pleasant negotiation process.

  But if what he says is true, I have a chance to rectify that with a song that means the world to me. “Since when?”

  “Since I told them you wrote it. They’re pretty pissed I took credit for it.”

  “Why? Why did you tell them?” But I already know the real answer. He did it because the label is going to drop him anyway if I don’t come back. The Cadan I know would never sacrifice his career by owning up to anything.

  “Because, Lucy…” He grabs my hand and presses it to his heart. “I love you. Like I said, nothing’s the same. I miss sharing the stage with you. I miss you. It turns out it means little without you by my side.”

  He’s saying everything I’ve ever wanted to hear. Hope blossoms in my chest, but I’m not convinced. I probably never will be. “And what if I say no? What if I never come back? You risked your career for me.”

  He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they’re filled with pain. “It’s a chance I had to take. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t make this right.”

  I can tell this is tearing him apart. He’s made big mistakes, and he seems sincere no matter what his initial motivations were. But I’ve left that lifestyle and found I’m happier staying out of the spotlight. Yes, I enjoyed performing the night before, but that was just to the local crowd. It was fun, void of any pressure from the labels and the bean counters. I’d been singing for me, not everyone else.

  I nod, accepting his explanation, even if I am still skeptical. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. Say you’ll come back with me and record your dad’s song. After that, we’ll figure it out.”

  I hesitate, wanting to say yes. Wanting to ease his suffering. It’s our soul mate connection. I can’t help it. This is the reason I’ve refused to even talk to him. Being around him makes me weak. I shake my head. “I need time to think about it.”

  The breath he’d been holding comes out in a whoosh as he stands and crushes me into a hug. “That’s better than no.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, and hug him back, tears stinging my eyes. This will never work.

  He tightens his hold on me until our bodies are pressed together. I let him, knowing full well it’ll only make saying no harder. He’s strong and familiar and everything I’d always wanted.


  Until last night happened.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Seth

  Jax pulls me through the rain into Raven’s Tavern. The first thing I notice is Mike sitting by himself at the bar. I gesture to him. “That’s strange. Mike never comes here unless he’s playing.” I scan the room for the rest of the band, but come up empty.

  That is, until I notice Lucy wrapped in the arms of that douchebag Kinx. “Fuck me.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Jax asks, laughing. “I thought we already covered that topic.”

  I all but growl and turn her shoulders until Lucy is in her sight line.

  “Aww, shit,” she whispers. “Why can’t he leave her alone?”

  “Because he’s trying to get her back,” I say, resentment burning a hole in my gut. And by the looks of it, he’s off to a better than decent start. “Let’s go.”

  “Go? Where?” Jax turns around, her eyes crinkled in confusion. “We’re not leaving her here with him.”

  “Really? Looks like she’s doing fine to me. Besides, weren’t you the one not even answering her phone calls a few hours ago?” Suddenly, I’m pissed at Jax. If she’d been there for her friend, Lucy would’ve likely been tucked into Jax’s apartment instead of standing over there plastered to the devil incarnate.

  “Hey.” Jax punches me in the arm. “Don’t get snippy with me just because you’ve fallen for her after one night of whatever you two got up to.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I have not fallen for her.”

  “Right. That’s why you spent the day in your artist’s loft instead of at the tattoo shop.” She gives me a saccharine-sweet smile and then heads off toward Lucy.

  I immediately make my way to the bar and slump down next to Mike. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since I left the shop.” He picks up a shot glass full of whiskey and downs it.

  I raise a curious eyebrow. “How many of those have you had?”

  “A few.”

  “I better catch up then.” I wave the bartender down and order a shot of my own. “Were you playing or something?”

  “Nope. Trying to convince that gorgeous brunette to become a permanent member of the band.”

 

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