“An immature grown woman.” Jase shot back. “She’ll find her way to an early jail sentence without our interference.”
No one could pretend she hadn’t made bad choices. They all had and none judged her for her decisions. Heath suspected if he could keep her focused on him, she’d ditch her mischievous ways. He didn’t even bother addressing Jase’s accusation. “What you’re too stubborn to understand, Jase, is that regardless what happens between us, you’re not losing either of us. We’re still your family. We love you. You’re like a brother to me, but I’m in love with her. If you keep pushing, I’ll have no other choice but to pick her over you. I don’t want that, but she’s too important to me to lose.” With tension as thick as Alabama mud, silence weighted the room. “You ever again pull a stunt like what you did tonight with the gropey-handed girl, I’m outta the goddamn band.”
“Fang leaves, I’m out too. You’re an awesome drummer, but the gravy train is with the voice and face of Hot Wired. That’s Fang.” Keys’ support shocked Heath, but he hoped it didn’t show. “Plus, I agree with him, you’ve gone overboard with their affair. It’s time you get your head out of your ass and face reality.”
Jase opened his mouth, then snapped his teeth together with an audible click. “Fuck all of you.” He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
With a weary sigh, Heath walked to the shower stalls. He wasn’t sure what was going to come of his band, but he knew he had to perform damage control with Sam. He’d grovel before the press if it’d comfort her.
“I need your help,” Sam said the moment Omega answered her phone call.
“You want me to come?”
“Not yet. I need your advice first.” She swirled her French fry through the ketchup and eyed Dixon across the table. The man was trouble with a capital T. He’d agreed to show with her at the after party. He wouldn’t come between her and Heath if things got heated because he knew she’d be upset if he bloodied her “for now” boyfriend. That’d been the way he labeled Heath. If she and Heath broke it off, then he got “first dibs”. Again his lingo, not hers.
She decided he was smarter than he looked. Even given her state of anger, she’d go ape-shit if someone busted Heath up. And she’d probably never agree to go out with Dixon as anything other than a friend unless coerced. He had cuteness down, but his pheromones or charm—whatever Heath had that called to her—Dixon just didn’t have it.
She explained to Omega what’d transpired and then waited for him to comment. Silence stretched as she chewed her fry and waited… and waited. “You still there, Omega?”
Dixon’s eyebrows domed upward. Everyone seemed shocked that she was a friend with Starr Productions’ heir.
“Yeah…just trying to figure out if I should answer like an outraged beastie or man.”
She drenched another fry. “Are the responses different?”
“You bet your pretty ass they are. Let me get a drink.” She waited while she heard the tinkle of ice hitting glass and then the sloshing of liquid.
“He gay?” Dixon pointed at her cell to indicate which ‘he’ he referred to.
She placed her hand over the bottom so Omega couldn’t hear her speak. “Why would you ask that?”
“I can’t figure out why he’d help you with Fang unless he’s gay.”
“He’s my friend.”
Dixon snorted. “Not possible with a hot chick.”
“My advice….” Omega interrupted her irritating chat with Tone Deaf’s drummer. “You ditch him over something simple like this, and you’ll regret it.”
Appalled by the term simple, she inhaled an irate breath and would’ve told him what she thought, but he kept talking.
“It is simple, Sam. He’s in the public’s eye. The fans and media expect wild stuff from Hot Wired and the band has given it to them in spades. What you detailed… even you have to admit it was mediocre.”
“A friend would be on my side.”
Dixon grinned at her sulky comment.
“Sunshine, I’m always on your side. You want me to castrate him—yeah, I’m a bitch because I wouldn’t be able to do that without crying with him.” She could picture Omega clutching his precious package and grimacing at the thought. “But I will help you make his life miserable. I can be there in a couple hours and we’ll make him beg you for forgiveness. Publicly shame him the way he has you. Unless you think this Dixon guy can help?” The way he asked, she knew Omega had his doubts.
“Yeah.” Sam didn’t know what to think. One side said to give Heath a chance to explain. Her wilder side said she should make him pay.
“You trust this Dixon?”
“I don’t know. He wants something more from me.”
She could hear the grin in Omega’s voice. “We all want something more from you.”
“You don’t. You’re happy to be my friend.”
“I’m a pussy. I don’t push you for more the way I should.” She laughed because she knew Omega joked. They’d tried the dating thing and discovered they were better as friends than a couple. He went serious on her again. “Are you mad because he was able to hurt you or because he didn’t stop the show?”
In her mind they were one and the same.
“Both. He should’ve just said no.” She got up and walked to the bathroom without saying a word to Dixon. Once inside the single stall, public restroom, she locked the door. “Omega, if he really loved me like he says wouldn’t he have said no?”
“Whoa! I think I missed a chapter or two. When’d he admit that?”
“Right after he made love to me a few nights ago.”
Omega whistled, a high-pitched resonance that managed to encompass everything she felt. “I’m headed your way as soon as we disconnect.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You listen to me. Saying he loved you changes everything. He should’ve punched your brother in the face and gave the media something else to warble about.”
“Yeah.” That’s what she’d thought.
“Don’t you dare start crying!”
She sniffled and nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “’kay.”
“For the record, I believe him.”
“Why would you? He threatened you—”
“That took guts. Impressive.”
“—and you’re defending him?”
Ice chinked in his glass, as if he swigged whatever he drank. “Want to know why I believe him?”
“No. I want to play twenty questions with you.”
“There’s my girl. Stay fired up. Take this Dixon to the after party with you, but for the love of all that’s holy be late. Make him jealous—”
“Care to explain how this relates to why you believe Heath loves me?” Someone twisted the doorknob from the other side. Sam ignored them.
“For starters, everyone loves you.” She rolled her eyes. “But the real clencher is that man doesn’t fuck anything and see it again the next day.”
“He didn’t have a choice. I’m Jase’s sister.”
“Do you even read the tabloids?”
No more than necessary. “Your point?”
“There’s a little truth in all of them. One glaring fact is that Fang doesn’t get mixed up in relationships or romances. He has one-night-stands. Ever heard of the fuck them and leave them motto?”
Tab had said something similar, but she hadn’t been paying a lot of attention at the time. “Yeah.”
“That’s your Heath’s attitude toward pussy. All the groupies he’s been with agree with that. Even your asshole brother can’t say that. He’s like a hangnail on some of those conquests and just hangs on and on with the sluttier variety.”
He could say that again. “You’re still pissed at his ex hiring that photographer to post those photos of us.”
“I’ll never forgive that slut!” Omega held a grudge better than she did. “That’s off topic. Back on track. From what I’ve read according to all of Heath’s groupies, he’s detache
d, efficient, and selfish. Each one that tried for more has been shot down. From what I hear, his selection process is difficult.”
She knew all about his selection process. Heath was picky, always had been, but he was anal too. He preferred the gal with the least complications. His groupies signed waivers, verifying their age, job description, and single status, even confessed their religion. They all agreed to a sterile type sex. If he wanted oral, they would give it, but he rarely-to-never offered. Any displays of warmth would result in the female being dismissed immediately. More important than all of that, there would be no future communication between them and he wore a condom regardless what transpired. Even if only head was involved. Before the night began he detailed what he wanted, if they agreed, they had a contract. If they didn’t, they were dismissed.
The first time she’d heard those questions, she’d been just shy of her eighteenth birthday. None of his would-be lovers seemed put-off by the checklist, but Sam had been horrified. What’d happened to impulsivity? Genuine attraction?
So she’d approached Heath. Stunned by her inquiry, he’d peered at her, and she’d expected him to tell her it wasn’t any of her concern. Instead he’d told her groupie sex was business. A clinical activity that was all about his pleasure, not theirs. The questions were intended to weed out the clingy admirers.
When Omega spoke again, she realized she’d been silent too long. “I’m going to take a leap of faith and predict he wasn’t detached or selfish with you?”
“No.” Not even with her limited experience with other men, could she pretend he’d been either. He’d been wholly in the moment, enjoying himself with her, and not once had she felt like he moved through the motions.
“How long’s it been since you were together?”
“Three days.”
“Congratulations. You’re the first woman to last beyond one-night.” Her mind scattered like buckshot. “He loves you or he wouldn’t be sticking around. Has he called you?”
The shift in topic confused her for a moment. “Called and texted. More than once.”
“Don’t answer.” Devilry infiltrated his voice. “This is what you and Dixon are going to do….”
After several phone calls that went straight to voice mail and a dozen text messages pleading with Sam to call him, Heath decided the ball was now in her court. Her avoidance told him the level of her indignation was off the charts. Great. Fucking great. Sam could hold a grudge longer than anyone else he knew.
Two hours into the hotel party he spied her dancing with Dixon. Pleased she’d finally shown, he was also irritated she’d brought the drummer. Was she trying to make him jealous? If so, she’d succeeded, and he deserved a dose of his own prescription. It was the only reason why he didn’t stalk straight to her and drag her to his bedroom so they could clear the air. He’d just barely managed to control his impulses.
In under a minute, he realized Tone Deaf’s drummer had a thing for her. It was obvious by the way he watched her while they danced. Not that he could blame the other man, but he wondered if he realized how volatile Heath’s mood was and because of that, how much danger he placed himself in? One wayward touch and Heath might go postal.
They’d finally stopped dancing, she’d quit grinning at Dixon like the sun rose with him, and interacted with fans. Too soon he’d breathed a sigh of relief because the way the drummer claimed her with his touch on her lower back rattled Heath.
I am not a caveman. She can socialize with whomever she wants.
Knowing he was probably about to feed the tabloid gossip, he downed his glass of whiskey and pushed through the crowd, ignoring anyone that attempted to halt him with conversation or promises of sex-filled nights. He came to an abrupt halt in Dixon’s face. They were of an equal height, so they squared off on level footing.
“If you value the use of your hand”—he knew the other man did because without the limb he couldn’t drum—“you’ll remove it from my woman.”
“Don’t be an ass, Heath.” Sam tried to nudge him away from Dixon, but he refused to budge. “You’re making a scene,” she hissed.
He ignored her. “I won’t ask twice, my friend.”
He had to give the drummer credit. He didn’t flinch or back down. “I believe it’s the lady’s choice who she’s with.”
“This is rich, Heath, you were the one all but fucking the woman on stage.”
“It was a performance.” He didn’t look at her, but continued to stare Dixon in the eyes.
“And, oh look, I see she’s here. Did you bang her before I showed up?”
That got his attention. He stepped away from the other male and focused on Sam. “No.”
“You had time, and she’s attractive, so I wouldn’t—”
“If you like blonde and plastic, she might be attractive. But I prefer a particular brunette with a sassy mouth and erotic piercings.” He realized Dixon didn’t halt him or make a play for Sam. From his lack of defense, Heath surmised he was with Sam as nothing but show.
She bit her bottom lip and looked away. “Yeah, and I prefer men who are faithful. We don’t always get what we want. Let’s dance, Dixon?”
Taking a chance she wouldn’t cause a scene, he grabbed her arm.
“Excuse us,” he said as he tugged her out of the room.
“Heath, let me go,” she made a half-hearted effort to get free, but not enough to indicate she truly wanted her liberty.
Saying nothing, he led her down the hall past partygoers. Several abandoned conversing and gawked.
“I’m not going into your room.” For the first time, she dug her heels in.
At his door, he halted and peered down at her. She studied those down the hall that rubbernecked. Under normal circumstances, Heath would’ve respected her wishes not to cull public interest. Tonight wasn’t an ordinary situation. He captured her nape and wound his fingers around her hair. He flattened her against the door and turned his palm into the wood, positioning her head back so she had no other choice but to meet his gaze.
She flattened her hands on his chest in a silent demand to come no closer, but she made no effort to push him away. “Don’t. I came with Dixon.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re leaving with me.”
“In our world, appearances always say something. What you said about me tonight on stage was that I didn’t matter.” Her eyes slid closed, but the way her voice cracked on the final word told him how close to breaking she was.
“It was a performance. Nothing more.” True, but…
“That performance said a lot more than nothing.”
Was she reading his mind? The press would persecute his commitment to their relationship, would possibly hint she wasn’t enough for his appetites. One negative word against her and he’d probably go bat shit crazy and crucify the press.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyelids flicked upward at his apology, which she seemed surprised to hear if her wide eyes were any indication. Tears shimmered, and a single drop slid down her right cheek. Heath thumbed the moisture away, cursing himself for allowing her brother to manipulate him. Peer pressure obviously extended well beyond the teen years. He hated himself for his weakness to step up and be the man she needed him to be. He tried to hug her, but her hands on his chest remained firm and maintained their distance. “Brat, don’t cry. Won’t happen again. Not. Ever. Again. Your tears crush me.”
When pissed, she knifed people. If tears were her answer, then she was devastated.
I did this to her.
“I’m to blame if it happens again.” Her voice sounded stronger, more determined, and he panicked, fearing she would break off their romance.
He rushed on. “You’re all I want, Sam. All I need. You’re the chords that pluck my heart and create the music inside me. Without you I am a hollow man, lyrics without music, notes minus the beat.”
She reached up and extracted his grasp from her hair, taking special care to relocate his hand to his stomach. One solitary step sideways and
she removed herself from his intimate environment. With cool detachment, she contemplated the curious onlookers. “Easy words to say, Fang.” She faced him, and he flinched at the usage of his stage name. “But can you back them up when push comes to shove?”
“You know I can.” She shook her head and he could see the doubt in her eyes. He was unworthy of her, but that wasn’t going to stop him from begging to keep what he didn’t deserve. “Brat, give me a second chance to prove I’m worthy of you. That you’re all I need.”
“You made love to me and told me you loved me, then stage-fucked that girl tonight.”
Heath winced. That’s what they’d called the exhibition since they’d instilled it. He’d been unaware of how crude the term sounded until the words exited her mouth. “I don’t know what to say, except for what I’ve already said. I’m sorry. I was wrong. It will not happen again.”
“I believe you think that, but—Omega!” Her eyes rounded and Heath glanced over his shoulder to spy the male walking toward them. What the fuck was he doing here? Bad timing. Omega brought complications to the table he wasn’t eager to address. “I told you not to come.”
Dressed like he owned the fucking joint, Omega winked at Sam. “Was already on the jet headed in this general vicinity when you said that, sunshine. Easy to divert my destination.”
Even knowing the man hadn’t publicly disgraced Sam, Heath still loathed him for no other reason than he’d been intimate with her and remained her friend. A stir of excitement from the onlookers buzzed, drawing more spectators.
Omega walked straight to her and kissed her on the lips. Like he had every right to embrace her.
“Let’s ditch this lame party.” Omega gave Heath the cold shoulder and wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, cuddling her against his side. “Do some partying of our own. Get drunk and give the pap something else to chirp about. You and me, like always?”
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