Turn up the Tempo (Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 4)

by Charli B. Rose

  “You can’t moan like that if you want to actually eat your dinner instead of becoming the meal right now.” He shot me a pointed look.

  “That’s a pretty hard choice. Japanese yum-yum sauce-covered food or orgasms.” In my mind, I argued with myself. The food could be reheated. It would still be just as good. Actually, it was usually better as leftovers. I closed my eyes, truly weighting my options. My body tingled at the thought of his tongue against my most sensitive parts. That delectable metal ball on the tip of his tongue. His long fingers spreading me apart.

  The nudge of a fork against my lips had me opening up to accept the food Brooks was offering me.

  The food was so good. My stomach rumbled in agreement.

  Brooks chuckled, completely aware of the internal battle waging in my head. “Eat your dinner. Moan all you want. I’ll reward you later, and we’ll burn off all these calories together.” He pressed play on the remote, starting the next episode of Sons of Anarchy.

  When I’d finally scraped the last bit of my dinner from my plate, Brooks took our empty dishes into the kitchen. I eased off the floor and onto the couch. Brooks returned. Strong hands gripped me, lifting me up. Brooks sank in the corner of the couch with his back against the armrest. He settled me between his spread thighs. One of his hands rested between my breasts, his thumb lightly stroking me almost where I wanted him to. His other hand was tucked beneath the waistband of my cotton shorts. Those fingers drew tiny circles over my pubic bone. Those little spirals were nearly where I needed them to be. I wiggled, trying to force his caress where I was dying for it.

  “Patience, angel,” he whispered against my ear.

  It was so hard to concentrate on the show with his hands on me.

  On the coffee table, his phone started playing “My Love” and the name Misty flashed across the screen. I stiffened in his hold, remembering him singing that song softly to a Misty the other day.

  Brooks allowed the call to ring through to voicemail. Inside, I pumped my fists that he didn’t interrupt our evening for this woman … whoever she was.

  “Watch the show,” he whispered.

  On the screen, Jax and Tara were locked in a passionate embrace. My body started to heat to his touch again.

  But before my blood could hit that fevered stage, his phone rang again. This time the ringtone was “Crazy Bitch”. Brooks slipped his hands from my body, and he grabbed his phone.

  ♪ Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry

  “Hey there,” he said softly and eased off the couch.

  I strained to listen though I knew I shouldn’t.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He paced over to the window and stared out into the darkness.

  “OK. I love you, Elle,” he murmured. He ended the call and pocketed his phone.

  Quietly, he made his way back to where I waited and wanted on the couch. “I have to go. I’m so sorry.” He kissed my forehead. Then he walked out the door.

  Again.

  Why hadn’t I asked him what was going on? Who he was talking to? Who was it that he loved? Why he kept running away from me?

  Because those were girlfriend questions, and I wasn’t his girlfriend.

  “Ugggh,” I shouted when I heard his car’s tires crunch on the pavement. I was so mad at myself for falling into his orbit. I’d promised myself that I’d just have fun. We’d just share an extended one-night stand, for multiple nights. But the anger roaring inside of me … the hurt swirling there with it …

  It all signaled that I’d failed miserably at keeping it fun only.

  I turned off the TV and went into the kitchen to clean up the leftovers.

  In the living room, my phone chirped with an incoming text message. Like a fool, I rushed in there hoping it was Brooks, letting me know he was on his way back.

  I swiped the screen. My heart plummeted.

  Wilder: I figured out how to make it up to you.

  Me: Make what up to me?

  Wilder: Being a dick.

  Me: Oh?

  Wilder: Go salsa dancing with me tomorrow.

  Me: I’ll let you know.

  A video call came through before I could think too hard about either man occupying my thoughts. When I saw Izzy’s name, I pasted on a smile and accepted the call.

  “Hey girl!” I gushed. “You look amazing. Where are you now?”

  “Hey, Britt. We’re in Zakynthos, Greece. It’s amazing here. I can’t wait to show you the pictures. How have you been?” Izzy’s eyes sparkled and the joy on her face couldn’t be contained. I let her happiness be mine for a moment.

  “Things are going pretty well. I’ve been doing some choreography for a few music videos. And Cleo gave me a lead on a potential job opportunity that would last a few months. So, I’ve been keeping busy.” I propped my feet up on the coffee table, getting comfortable for the chat with my best friend.

  “I’m so glad you got to hang out with Cleo. She’s a blast. I never thought I’d say it, but she’s a good friend. Once you get beyond her brashness and flirtiness. Anything else interesting been going on?” she hedged.

  My lips pressed into a flat line, and I shook my head. I forced nonchalance into my expression and shrugged. “Nah. Not really.”

  “I know relationships aren’t really your thing. But I thought maybe you were changing your mind,” she said hesitantly.

  I frowned. “Why would you think that?” What did she know? She was on the other side of the world.

  “Well, I know I should’ve asked before I did it, but then when he messaged Daw and said you’d had dinner, I figured you weren’t mad,” Izzy rambled.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked impatiently.

  “Wilder. I gave him your number before we left town. He mentioned to Dawson that you two were going to dinner the other night. And I know you two hung out in Vegas. And you hung out before that when you came to the awards ceremony with us. So … I just thought things might be progressing with the two of you. He’s a really great guy. I know he has a bit of a wild reputation, but he has a heart of gold. And I think he likes you.” Izzy’s hands flew around as she explained.

  “It’s fine that you gave him my number. He’s a good friend …” My thoughts strayed to the other man who was something to me. Something more. Something undefined. Something over before it began. I chewed on my lip and blinked rapidly, trying to keep the moisture from overrunning the barriers of my eyelids.

  “Britt, what’s wrong?” Izzy asked softly as she leaned closer to her phone screen. “Did Wilder do something to hurt your feelings? I’ll kill him. The band doesn’t have to have a rhythm guitarist.”

  I gave a wry chuckle, appreciating her fierce protectiveness, and leaned my head back, staring up at the ceiling. “No. Wilder’s great. I think he’s great. Dinner with him the other night was great.”

  “Why does great sound bad?” Izzy asked, confused.

  “It’s not. He’s been sweet and attentive and … great.” A tear slipped from my eye.

  “Is he bad in bed?” Izzy whispered, glancing around to make sure no one else was around. “I’ve heard groupies talking about how much of a wild man he is. But groupies aren’t very reliable.” Her gaze was knowing.

  “No. It’s not that. The one time I had sex with him months ago was good, great even,” I confessed.

  “I knew it! I knew you’d hooked up with him after the awards ceremony.” Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “But you haven’t slept with him since you’ve been in LA?”

  “No,” I said simply.

  “Why?” She seemed truly confused.

  “I’ve been keeping Wilder at arms’ length because … because I’ve been hooking up with someone else. And I kind of have feelings for this someone else,” I whispered.

  Izzy’s mouth gaped open in stunned silence. Her eyes were just as wide. “I never expected you would ever like anyone enough to want to commit.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted sadly.

  “Who is he?” Izzy shou
ted.

  I didn’t want to tell her. To speak his name. But she was my best friend. “Brooks,” I said, barely breathing his name.

  Izzy’s eyes popped wide open, and she got very close to her phone screen. “What?” she mouthed.

  I nodded in confirmation.

  “How?” Izzy muttered.

  “Brooks and I had sex the night we met,” I confessed.

  Izzy’s mind seemed to be reeling as she worked through the truth of my admission. Her brow furrowed. “But that was almost a year ago.”

  “Yeah. At your parents’ anniversary party. And I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind ever since.” I dragged my fingers through my hair in frustration.

  “And you slept with Wilder after the awards ceremony?” Izzy asked, trying to get all the details sorted in her mind.

  “Yes. I tried to tell you I didn’t want to come. I didn’t want to see Brooks. He’d been haunting my thoughts. And then I allowed myself to get excited about the prospect of seeing him. But he barely talked to me. Then, at the after-party, those blonde bimbos were all over him. So, yes, I had fun with Wilder. Stupidly, I hoped it would get Brooks out of my head,” I explained in a huff.

  “Did it?”

  I shook my head sadly. “And I’ve been with him since I’ve been in LA.”

  Her face brightened. “That’s great. Right?”

  “No. Because while I’m feeling all kinds of things I can’t explain or figure out, he seems to still be interested in his normal playboy ways. He’s been having whispered phone conversations with women. Text messages from female contacts come through his phone when he’s with me. And he carried some reality TV show hussy to a movie premiere the other night. It’s a woman he was seeing a while back. They looked great together. I just can’t compete.” Tears started to run down my cheeks.

  Understanding dawned on her face. “You must be talking about Giselle. I’ve never met her before. Brooks was fooling around with her before Dawson and I got back together. It was short-lived. But I’ve seen her show, and she’s a fan of the band. I do know she’s got nothing on you. Whatever Brooks had with her wasn’t serious. He hasn’t ever done serious, not even when he was in high school. He doesn’t ever usually even see the same girl twice. She definitely doesn’t matter to him. I don’t know why he went to a premiere with her. But I know she’s not a blip on his radar. If she was, I’d know about her,” Izzy said passionately.

  I shrugged. “Serious or not, it doesn’t matter. Seeing the two of them just reminded me that he’s so far out of my league. He’s fun and passionate and doesn’t take things seriously. All the things I thought made him a perfect one-night stand are the same reasons my heart aches now. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing,” I said helplessly.

  Izzy narrowed her eyes at me. “What kind of thing is it you think you’re not cut out for?”

  “Feelings, relationships, especially with celebrities who should be with models or something. I’m not celebrity girlfriend material.” But a part of me really wanted to be. For him.

  “What are you talking about? You most definitely are celebrity girlfriend material … if that’s what you want to be. You’re amazing and talented and kind and real instead of fake. You’re gorgeous, and any man, celebrity or average Joe, would be damn lucky to call you his. And don’t you forget it,” she said fiercely.

  I gave her a watery smile. “That’s why you’re a great best friend.”

  Chapter 20

  Brooks

  “Now boarding flight 283 to Cleveland, Ohio at gate thirteen,” a mechanical voice announced over the intercom.

  I got to my feet and slung my duffle bag over my shoulder. With my cap pulled low and in my non-rocker attire, I hoped I’d be able to get out of town inconspicuously.

  Once I was settled into my seat in first class, I slipped my phone out and fired off a text to my sister.

  Me: Just boarded. Be there soon.

  Then I powered off my phone and sank against the cushion. Internally, I was kicking myself for bailing on Britt, again. I probably should’ve told her what was going on with my family. But I’d never shared my burdens with anyone before. When Dad left, I became the man of the house, and I took the responsibility very seriously. I was supposed to be able to handle my shit on my own. Just because someone was starting to make me wish things were different, didn’t mean they could be different.

  Dropping my head back against the seat, I prayed for sleep to take me for the length of the five-hour flight so I wouldn’t have to think about the look on Britt’s face when I left without an explanation. So I wouldn’t be plagued with thoughts of all the promises I left unfulfilled. All because the doctor I was supposed to take Mom to had to reschedule our appointment for first thing in the morning.

  ♪ You Can’t Always Get What You Want by The Rolling Stones

  Exhausted and frustrated, I closed my eyes. Instead of darkness, beautiful blue eyes mesmerized me. And God help me, I wanted to surrender to their hypnotic song.

  As the plane taxied down the runway, I drifted off, knowing this would be my only chance for slumber for a while.

  “Sir,” a soft voice called from above me. “Sir, we’ve landed. You can disembark now.”

  When I cracked my eyelids open, a flight attendant stood in the aisle next to my seat.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Slowly, I got to my feet. Every muscle in my body had tightened while I slept. Reaching in the overhead bin, I pulled down my lone, black duffel bag. The plane was empty of passengers except me. Stiff legged, I shuffled down the narrow walkway. Once I entered the airport, I turned my phone back on. A message from my sister said she’d be waiting for me out front.

  With long strides, I loped toward the exit. I kept my head down the entire time, though the airport was fairly empty at this hour. The automatic doors slid open, allowing the frigid air to embrace me. The below freezing temperature was definitely a rude awakening. I turned the collar of my leather jacket up to try to ward against the cold.

  A flash of headlights caught my attention. Bri waited along the curb in her little, compact car. Picking up my pace, I headed over. I opened the passenger door and tossed my bag onto the backseat. Then I folded myself in half in the front seat. With fumbling fingers, I reached beneath the seat to find the lever which would slide the seat back to a more comfortable position for my tall frame.

  “You need a bigger car,” I griped once I was situated.

  “Hello to you too, big brother,” she sassed.

  “Sorry. My muscles were already stiff from sleeping on the plane. I’m in a grouchy mood.”

  “Traveling always makes me cranky. I forgive you.” She looked over at me, casting a bright smile at me before she pulled onto the highway.

  “How was Mom today?” I asked, guilt eating at me for not checking in with her today.

  “Not too bad. She was pretty lucid. And she understands what’s supposed to happen with the doctor. She was confused when I took her for the MRI and the cognitive tests the new doctor ordered, but at least she was agreeable,” Brielle explained as she turned off the main road and onto the secondary road leading to our childhood home.

  Bri used her key to let us in. “You’ve got a couple more hours if you want to nap before we have to leave. There are clean sheets on your bed. Mom put them on there this morning.”

  Leaning over, I kissed the top of Bri’s head. “Thanks, Sis. You should rest too. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

  Quietly, I eased down the hallway to my childhood bedroom. Only bothering to shrug out of my jacket and toe off my shoes, I collapsed onto the mattress.

  It seemed like I’d barely closed my eyes when Mom was shaking my shoulder to wake me. “Come on, Son. It’s time to wake up. We don’t want to be late.”

  I peeked at my mother from beneath my arm, which rested across my eyes. She was dressed in a pants suit. Her hair was combed and styled. She looked very well put together. Like n
othing was wrong.

  “There’s my boy,” she said with a bright smile. “Breakfast is on the table. Come along.”

  With a lightness in my heart, I followed Mom down to the dining room where Brielle was already waiting. Seeing Mom like this made it hard to think about why I was even here.

  We chatted about nothing important as we ate breakfast. When it was time to leave, a hint of worry clouded Mom’s features.

  “You OK, Mom?” I asked, squeezing her shoulder.

  “Just a little nervous,” she admitted, wringing her hands in front of her.

  “I’m sure that’s normal,” Brielle chimed in, trying to soothe Mom.

  Mom nodded and patted our hands before she stooped to grab her purse from the floor. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, plastering a smile on her face.

  I ushered her out to her SUV. Bri had started it so it could warm up while we ate bacon and eggs. I helped Mom ease into the passenger seat. Bri climbed in back while I slid behind the wheel.

  The drive across town to the medical offices near the hospital went fairly quickly. I parked near the front door. Inside, I led Mom over to a couch to wait while Bri spoke quietly with the receptionist and filled out paperwork.

  Unlike most times I’d been in a doctor’s waiting room, we didn’t wait very long before Dr. Delong came to get us herself.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Margie Delong.” She held her hand out for each of us to shake. We each introduced ourselves.

  “Why don’t you all follow me to the conference room.” Dr. Delong guided us down a long, polished hallway. Tasteful art decorated the walls, and soft music played overhead. The doctor stopped when she reached a gleaming wooden door at the end on the left.

  She pushed it open and waited for us each to go inside before she came in and shut the door behind us.