Exposed (VIP Book 4)

by Kristen Callihan

  No, he couldn’t. If Killian knew, he’d be here, punching me in the face.

  “Calm down.” Jax leans back to slurp his shake. “No one else knows.”

  I pin him with a stare. “Not even Stella?”

  He waves his shake with an idle hand. “She doesn’t count. We’re a relationship unit.”

  “God.” I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose where a headache is forming. “Which means Sophie knows too.”

  Scottie’s smile is brief but fond. “No. I love my wife, but that doesn’t mean I’m unaware that she has the biggest mouth in all creation.”

  “You keep things from her?” Jax is aghast.

  “Not important things that affect us or our family. But Rye is right to look terrified…”

  “I don’t think I looked terrified…”

  “The whole group knowing Brenna is consorting with him would devastate her.”

  “Thanks,” I grumble. “Glad to know consorting with me is so awful.”

  Jax chuckles and slaps my shoulder with good humor. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “You’re about to wear that shake home, Johnny Boy.”

  He takes an extra-long suck of it. Asshole.

  Sighing, I reach over and steal Scottie’s shake, taking a drink before he can stop me. The man is a low-level germaphobe, so I know he won’t want it back. Scottie gives me a repressive glare.

  Ordinarily, I wouldn’t fuck with him in this way, but he’s pissed me off. And I’m thirsty. So, I drink some more of his salted caramel shake before I speak. “You’re both wrong, by the way. This thing with Brenna and I just started. And it’s complicated.”

  “Of course, it’s complicated,” he snaps. “Which is why it’s stupid.”

  “Galactically,” I deadpan, slurping on his shake. Figures he’d get something salty.

  His glare is glacial. “Quite.”

  When I say nothing—because he’s not entirely wrong—Scottie sighs. “Even you should be able to understand how complicated it will be when this thing goes south, and we’re all left dealing with the fallout.”

  When. Not if. As though the very idea of Brenna sticking with me isn’t even worth contemplating.

  My teeth grind. “Even me?”

  “You’re not the brightest penny when it comes to this stuff,” Jax says.

  I’ve played the role of the band’s unofficial clown. Mainly because I don’t like sweating the small stuff, and someone has to lighten the mood. But, until now, I hadn’t thought my guys actually believed I was an idiot.

  “I have near-perfect recall and an IQ of one-fifty. Try again, asshole.”

  Jax shakes his head. “I was referring to romantic shit. You want to tell me you know what you’re doing there?”

  I deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’m romantically challenged.” I point my stolen shake at them. “And we’re not talking about this.”

  “We are,” Scottie states emphatically. “Damn it, Rye. You know it’s a bad idea to get involved with someone in the group.”

  They are absolutely killing my post-Brenna-sex high. “You all have women who are part of ‘the group’ as you call it.”

  “They weren’t part of the group when we started. And they weren’t working with the band—”

  “Sophie was.”

  Scottie raises his eyes to the heavens and mutters under his breath before trying again. “She wasn’t attached to us at that point. Not in the way you and Brenna are attached.”

  “We’ve been a family for over a decade, Rye.” Jax’s expression is earnest now. “You two get together and then break up and it’s like a divorce. We’ll all feel it, and it will hurt. A lot.”

  A small, hard lump of disappointment and resentment sits in my chest. I can’t help who I want. I’ve tried to ignore it, and it never went away. But I’ll be damned if I say as much to them.

  “Look, I don’t want to fight with Bren anymore, all right? But we’ve been stuck in this…thing. It’s like we can’t help it. Whenever we’re around each other, we react like…”

  “Angry alley cats?”

  “Vinegar and bicarbonate?”

  Jax grins. “Way to science it up, Scottie.”

  I glare at both of them.

  “What I want to know,” Jax says, “is why Brenna hates you so much. I know you asked me not to bring it up again, but considering you two are now getting into it, maybe it’s no longer an issue.”

  Slumping in my seat, I eye my two friends. Despite their meddling, I know they care. They wouldn’t be here bugging the ever-loving hell out of me if they didn’t.

  “I don’t know how it got so bad. I mean, I know it started when you all insisted on that stupid interview…”

  “Not our best hour,” Scottie murmurs dourly.

  Back when we were about to go on our first world tour, Brenna made a bid to become our official PR manager. She’d been doing PR for us since the beginning, but given that she was eighteen, we had some reservations. Sure, we were only twenty, not much older than her, but she was Killian’s little cousin; we wanted her safe and at home. But Brenna wanted her shot, and who were we to stop her? So we decided to go over a few ground rules. All understandable, until the meeting somehow turned into making sure Brenna could contain her obvious crush on me.

  What a bunch of asshats we’d been. But I’d been the worst. Embarrassed and more than a little tempted by Brenna, I’d gone into total shithead mode. I wince at the memory, the exchange clear as a bell even now.

  “I know you’ve had a little crush on me, Berry.” God, the ego on me.

  A lovely shade of raspberry had washed up all the way to the dark red roots of Brenna’s hair. “Of all the…I do not have a crush on you!”

  I could have stopped there, but no, I had to make certain she hated me, thinking back then that it was better that way. Safer. “You really shouldn’t. I’m a terrible bet. Total player. No offense, Bren, I like you but you’re not my type. At all.”

  “Likewise,” she’d gritted out.

  Again, I could have stopped. But the guys had been watching. Killian had laughed, a relieved sound like he knew all along Brenna couldn’t have been so foolish. It dug at a sore spot I never knew I had. And I lashed out. Like a jerk.

  “I mean the very idea is laughable.”

  “Laughable?” She’d drawn herself up then, lifting her chin, fire flashing in her amber eyes. It was at that moment I truly saw the Brenna I know today. Cool, confident, and oh so disdainful of me. “Listen here, buttercup, I could twist you around my finger if I so choose. But you’re not worth the effort.”

  She’d been magnificent in her rage. And I’d eaten it up, getting off on it in a way I couldn’t explain. We’d gone another few rounds before the guys shut us both up.

  I wince at the memory and rub the back of my stiff neck. “It should never have happened that way. She didn’t deserve it.”

  “Hey,” Jax protests. “We were just trying to keep her safe.”

  I sit up a little straighter. “No, man. We should have given her the same space to make mistakes. We all were players, young and stupid. We shouldn’t have put her on the spot like that. We didn’t have to make it about her and me. Aside from Killian, she could have ended up hooking up with any one of you…” I don’t want to think about that. I’ll get too pissed and have to hit something.

  “Ah, hello?” Jax starts with a laugh. “The only one she had a massive crush on was you.”

  Hearing him say it aloud has my heart thudding with a weird mix of pleasure and regret. For a brief moment in time, I’d had Brenna’s regard. And then I lost it.

  “Yeah, well, I killed that crush forever.”

  “Like I said,” Jax mutters. “Not the brightest penny.”

  “I had to do it. She kept looking at me that way…” Tempting the hell out of me. “Even if I’d wanted…Shit. No. You both know Killian had laid down the law and told us in no uncertain terms to stay the hell away from his cousin.”
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br />   “He shouldn’t have done that,” Scottie says. “It wasn’t his decision to make.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” I pick at the edge of the table where the black enamel is peeling off. “But hooking up with her would have led to hurt feelings and messed with the band.”

  “You’re right about that.” Scottie looks at me with something close to hesitation before his expression smooths out. “Brenna and I kissed once.”

  “What?” Jax and I shout together. Although Jax sounds scandalized while I’m just pissed.

  Scottie shrugs. “It was still in the early days when we’d started working closely together. We got drunk and decided to try it.” He smiles fondly. The fucker. “A colossal failure. It was like kissing my sister, honestly.”

  I should feel relief, but my petty side is sticking to the point that Scottie got to sample Brenna’s lips before I did.

  He catches me scowling and lifts a beleaguered brow. “And we both realized how stupid it was because we both had to continue to work together.”

  “It’s only stupid,” Jax says thoughtfully, “if Rye’s sleeping with Brenna to scratch an itch. Somehow I don’t think that’s why.”

  They both turn their eyes on me. Dissected and left open in front of them, I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. When the silence grows, and I can’t stand it any longer, I let out a breath. “She’s the one that got away.”

  I clear my throat and give them a belligerent look. “I know we bicker and snipe at each other. Honestly, it’s some messed up form of self-defense for me at this point. But you think I don’t know the risks in trying to change things? That I haven’t tried my hardest to stay the hell away from her all these years, when she’s the…Fuck it. She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted to be around for more than a few hours, even when she’s hating me.

  “So, yeah, I know. I know the risks better than you chuckleheads. But she’s finally let me in. And I’m going to take the chance, for however brief it might be. Even if I crash and burn and don’t survive the wreck. Because I can’t do anything less and still comfortably breathe.”

  Birds chirp and cabs blare. And Scottie and Jax sit there with their mouths agape. Then Jax closes his. “Shit. It’s like that, huh?”

  Understatement of the year.

  “Yeah. It’s like that.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rye

  TrueAceOfBass: So. I had this idea. I’d drop by your house, armed w/ Pringles & Diet Cherry Coke (even though it’s a disgusting drink) and offer you a foot rub. But, apparently, you’re in Atlanta.

  Berrylicious: Diet Cherry Coke is delicious. Anyone with true taste knows it.

  TrueAceOfBass: It’s the devil’s juice, Bren. Accept that your tastes have been compromised and let the healing begin.

  Berrylicious: Never. In fact, I’m going on a tour of the Coke factory tomorrow. Will demand a crate of DCC.

  TrueAceOfBass: You’re staying in Atlanta? Scottie is coming home tonight. And how is it that Scottie tells me these things and you don’t?

  Berrylicious: You’re sounding suspiciously parental right now, Peterson.

  TrueAceOfBass: If you want to call me Daddy, I’m surprisingly okay with that.

  Berrylicious: It’s like you never want to have sex with me again.

  TrueAceOfBass: Oh, I’m getting some. As soon as you return from Atlanta. Exactly when is that, btw?

  Berrylicious: You’re pretty sure of yourself, buttercup.

  TrueAceOfBass: I was there. You were two moans away from, “Oh, Daddy, please give me more.”

  Berrylicious: Ugh. That’s it. I’m turning off my phone. I have to go take a hot shower and scrub my skin to rid myself of the ick.

  TrueAceOfBass: You mean a cold shower because you’re hot for me. They don’t work, you know. I’ve tried. Several times since I left you. I’m still dying over here.

  TrueAceOfBass: Bren?

  TrueAceOfBass: You seriously turned off your phone?

  TrueAceOfBass: Bren?

  TrueAceOfBass: Damn, it’s like that, huh?

  When Brenna doesn’t answer, I tuck away my phone and bite back a grin. Despite the fact she’s tuned me out, the small exchange gave me far too much enjoyment. Still, she did turn off her phone. That can’t be good.

  “Question.” I turn to Jax who’s thumbing through my LP collection. “Do women truly frown upon the whole ‘call me Daddy’ thing?”

  Jax pauses, his mouth falling open. “Please, for the love of vinyl, tell me you didn’t go there.”

  “What? I was joking.” Mostly. I mean, I’m up for anything Brenna wants to throw my way. I aim to please. But it’s not my personal kink.

  Jax shakes his head. “I thought you had better game than this.”

  “I never needed game before now.”

  “Sadly, I believe that.” He should; he’s had as many women throw themselves on him over the years. Shit, even more. Our fame was our game.

  Jax’s expression becomes empathetic. “Engaging with Brenna is master-level tactics, and you’re over there in primary school.”

  A sound of frustration escapes me, and I rub my fingers along my tight scalp. “You know what? We shouldn’t be talking about this. Forget I said anything.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have mentioned the daddy thing. Not likely to forget that.”

  With a groan, I flop back onto my couch. “That was stupid of me to text, wasn’t it?”

  Jax snickers. “You texted that? Now she has a visible record of that horror for the rest of your lives and will pull it up to torture you with in times of strife.” He glances at me with unrepentant glee. “Of which I predict there will be many.”

  I’d flip him the finger, but I’m too busy pressing my fingers to the hollows of my aching eyes. “Fuck. We really shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  “But you want to talk about it, don’t you?” Jax’s tone is serious now, and for once he doesn’t seem to be on the verge of cracking a joke. It must be killing him to hold back.

  My hands fall to my thighs, and I instantly start thrumming a beat. But it doesn’t stop the twitchy feeling inside me. “I just…I don’t know. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

  “You will, though.”

  “Thanks, man. Truly.” I’d be more upset if I didn’t think Jax was sort of right.

  He shakes his head. “It’s nothing personal. We’re guys. We’ll fuck things up because we haven’t got a clue what to do with our feelings once we start having them for someone.” His snort is self-deprecating. “Do you know the amount of asinine word spew that came out of my mouth when I met Stella?”

  “I can imagine,” I mutter.

  But he doesn’t hear me. He’s on a tear now. “Instead of pulling little dudes aside in health class to tell them it’s okay to rub one off—which, no shit, man, we all know that—they should be teaching them how to handle relationships. I swear that advice is worth more than gold.”

  He pins me with serious eyes. “Let me save you some more future grief. If your woman comes to you to complain about some shit going down in her life, she doesn’t want you to fix it.”

  “What’s the point of telling me if I can’t help find a solution?”

  “So you can nod and say, ‘Fuck that noise, you’re completely in the right, sweetness.’ Or, ‘I’m sorry, honey, that truly sucks. Would you like a foot rub?’”

  “I offered a foot rub.” I scratch at my growing beard. I need to shave it. “She ignored that part.”

  Jax snorts. “Doesn’t count if you weird her out with a side of bad flirting.”

  “She’s intrigued. I know it.”

  “You know dick.” He seems pleased by this.

  “Maybe you should teach a class now that you’re so enlightened.”

  “Maybe I should. Gather ’round, little dudes, and let Unkie John explain this wonderful concept called ‘think before you speak.’”

  “Probably best if you don’t call yourself ‘Unkie John.’ T
hat’s creepy.”

  “Whatever you say, Daddy.”

  “God,” I groan, pained. “I shouldn’t have gone there.”

  “Live and learn, my friend.” He shrugs. “Nothing is easy when you’re falling in love.”

  Alarm has me sitting up. “Hey now, no one said anything about love. I like Brenna. A lot. I want to try and see where this goes without totally messing it up before it even begins. But love? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to love as a concept. But love is…” Flaying yourself wide open and handing over salt to dump in the wound.

  Jax stares at me with a placid expression that says I’m talking too much. I stare back, determined not to squirm or pull at my collar because it is damn hot in this room, and I need to get better window treatments.

  The silence grows taut, and I clench my fists.

  She bolted. Because I know damn well that’s what she did. It’s a kick in the teeth, a punch in my needy nuts. I’m not going to think about the region of my heart. That organ is off-limits.

  Yes, she bolted. But I can’t sweat it. We only promised each other three days out of the week. Asking for more already would be pushing it. So, I won’t text her again. I won’t think about her or count the minutes that she’s gone.

  Life goes on. I did fine before I ever knew the silken heat of Brenna James’s body. Or the sounds she makes when she comes. Or the way her skin flushes peach…

  “Hell,” I mutter. “My apartment is too stuffy. You want to go for a run?”

  Because my friend is far more astute than he likes to let on, he jumps to his feet and stretches. “Sure. But we’re stopping for a shake on the way back.”

  “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of exercise?”

  He lifts a brow. “Is that why we’re running?”

  Damn it, I need that shake. “Let’s go. I’ll pay for the shakes.”

  Brenna

  “Is it just me, or is this movie really bizarre?” I whisper.