Plowed

by Kristen Luciani

  She finally nodded, as if receiving his telepathic message, her eyes bugging like they were going to pop out of her food bun wrapped head. “Sure, sure, anything you want, Mr. Cole.”

  “Thanks. And call me Dax.” He tossed his credit card on the counter and stuffed the gum into a paper bag. He nodded at the coffee in Merrick’s hand. “I’ve got his, too.”

  She swiped the card once, twice, three times before taking a deep breath to steady her hand. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. “Sorry,” she whispered with a sheepish smile.

  He grinned. “Take all the time you need.”

  “We just don’t…I, um, I mean, there aren’t a lot of celebrities coming through here, so I guess I’m a little nervous.” She bit her lower lip. “Could I get your autograph?”

  “Sure thing.” He scribbled his name on a scrap of paper. “What’s your name?”

  “Sandy.” Her eyes twinkled. “Oh my gosh, this is so amazing! Thank you!”

  “Anytime.” He winked and picked up the coffee cup and bag of gum. Fuck the press. He could be a nice guy, and it didn’t have to be for an audience. Let those assholes think what they wanted about him.

  Daxton pulled out a chair at a quiet corner table and dropped into it. A long gulp of coffee made his mouth twist. “Christ, all that sugar and it still tastes like crap.”

  “It’s hospital coffee, not Starbucks.” Merrick sat across from him. “Stop avoiding the questions. You’ve been hunkered down with Little Miss Minnesota since we started back up. What’s the deal? You fucking her or what?”

  “She’s going through a rough time.” The next sip was worse than the first, if that was even possible. Bitter. Thick, like sludge. Fucking awful. “I’m trying to be a friend.”

  “Really. And what’s her problem? Bunk’s not big enough?”

  Daxton let out a long breath. “She, uh, broke up with Eli.”

  “So you’re nosing around for scraps? Dude…” Merrick shook his head and took a long sip of coffee.

  “I’m trying to be a friend. She’s upset about it and she doesn’t have anyone else.” Hardly plausible, but maybe Merrick would swallow it.

  “Since when did you become the gay best friend?”

  Yeah, like hell he would.

  “I like her, okay? Why is that such a problem for you?”

  Merrick rolled his eyes. “You like her? Like, as a girlfriend, like her? Does she like you, too?”

  “Do you have to be such an asshole about this?”

  “Yes, because you sound like a big fruitcake. Dude, why are you even wasting your time with her? She’s not the girl for you.”

  Daxton narrowed his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Merrick took a long drink from his cup, averting his eyes. “She’s too pure, too wholesome. Definitely wouldn’t take it up the ass. You don’t do chicks like that.”

  The mere mention of the word conjured up images that made his cock twitch. Good God, that ass of hers was so perfect.“ Maybe I do now. Maybe someone like her will be good for me.”

  “To salvage your rep? I think the guys would appreciate that.”

  “It’s not about the guys. Or anyone else. It’s about me finding someone who actually makes me happy.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be a refreshing change for you, Dax. Until you do something to screw it all up because we both know she’s not what you need, and she’ll never keep you satisfied.”

  Daxton slammed a hand on the table. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. You’ve been complaining that I don’t tell you anything, so here I am, trying to open up and you’re—”

  “Look, you’re right.” Merrick ran a hand through his spiky hair. “I’m sorry. If she makes you happy, then that’s great. You deserve it. It’s none of my business if you want to bang a choir girl. Go for it. Show some fucking stability.”

  He took another gulp of coffee. “Sean told me that guy showed up again.”

  Daxton nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What’s his deal? Why’s he on your tail?”

  “He’s my father.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Nope. And the kicker? He shows up to tell me my mom is gone. She died a few weeks ago, and he thinks he can ride in on a white horse and all of a sudden be my dad.” After another biting sip of stale coffee, he managed to relay the whole story.

  “Shit, man. I’m so sorry about your mom, sorry about…everything.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Right now, yeah. When all of this finally sinks in, who the fuck knows? I spent so much time being angry and upset after she left. I don’t know. I just feel numb.”

  “Did you call Tyler?”

  “Not yet.” Daxton rubbed his temples. “Christ, I feel like I’m about to bungee jump off a bridge. I’m standing on the edge, but I just can’t take the plunge because I’m afraid the cord’s gonna snap. I need time to process all this shit before I do anything.”

  “I get it. I’m here, Dax. If you need to talk, come find me before you beat the hell out of anyone else, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  Merrick pushed back the chair and pulled out his iPhone. “I’ve got to make some calls. You taking off?”

  “Not until we get some news about Gia.”

  Merrick nodded toward the coffee bar. “Okay, I’m out. Listen, Coop’s back there. Talk to him, man. I know you have a lot on your mind, but you need to handle this. It’s been too long, and we all need to move on, okay?”

  Daxton slumped back against the chair. Not the conversation he wanted to have at that moment. Or any moment, for that matter. All he wanted to do was get back to Sara, strip her naked, and bury himself inside of her to escape all of the angst surrounding him. Having a conversation with Cooper fell somewhere between getting run over by a dump truck and being mauled by a grizzly bear.

  Merrick punched his shoulder. “I can see the wheels turning. Don’t be such a dick. Fix this. Step one.”

  Cooper walked toward the table, giving Merrick a fist pump as he passed. “Mind if I sit, Dax?”

  “If I say yes, will it stop you?”

  “Not this time. You need to hear me out.”

  “Anyone ever tell you actions speak louder than words, Coop? You’ve made your position crystal-clear by saying absolutely nothing. What the hell could you possibly tell me now that will erase what you’ve done?”

  “I was wrong on so many levels.”

  “’Wrong.’ Interesting word choice. Fucking Jase’s girlfriend while he was sick and dying, skipping his funeral, shacking up with that bitch for weeks afterward, and then radio silence? He was your best friend, you motherfucker. And you deceived him, deceived all of us! ‘Wrong?’” The rage bubbled in Daxton’s veins, crouched just below the surface, ready to be unleashed. “It wasn’t ‘wrong.’ It was disgusting. Vile.”

  “I know,” Cooper whispered. Tears pooled in his eyes. “I wish I could take it all back. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. Things with Ashlee…shit, we were spending so much time together because of Jase, we just…I mean, when it happened, it was only because we were trying to comfort each other. It didn’t mean anything. I never wanted it to last.”

  “Yet you kept fucking her for months after he died. Sure seemed like you had a thing for her skank ass.”

  “Things fizzled between us pretty fast. We both knew we’d made a mistake. I disappeared because I checked myself into rehab, Dax. I wasn’t with Ashlee. I couldn’t handle seeing Jase suffer through the chemo and surgery, and then those last few months…he was in so much pain. I was a selfish asshole, and I fell off the wagon – the needles, the pills, the booze. Christ, I was so doped up, I couldn’t make it to the funeral. I barely knew what planet I was on, and I knew it would jeopardize the tour and our contract. It was my mess to clean up. Ashlee was my cover, the only one who wouldn’t judge me, and would keep my secret.” Cooper rubbed a hand down his stubble-peppered face. “It would have w
orked if the press hadn’t been camped outside her place when she came to pick me up.”

  Daxton rubbed his temples. All that time his brother was in misery, not knowing why Cooper had pulled a disappearing act while he was at death’s doorstep. Nobody knew or suspected anything until those pictures were smeared all over the tabloids afterward. “Why should your sorry ass excuses make any difference to me?”

  “Because I hate myself for letting it all happen. I let my best friend down. I’ll never get a chance to say goodbye because I was so fucking weak and pathetic. I gave in to my own demons while Jase was fighting his with every ounce of strength he had left. He was the brother I never had, and I couldn’t handle losing him; instead, I lost myself. I’m trying so hard to get back, Dax. Please, you don’t have to forgive me. I’ll leave the band at the end of the tour. But I just needed you to know the truth. My actions will haunt me forever, and I’ll have to live with all of my bad choices.” He sniffed as he rose from the chair, tears falling from his eyes. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. And it’s so fucking hard not to wash away all the pain and regret. But I’m trying to be strong, just like Jase was, even though it’ll never be enough.”

  “Christ, Coop.” Daxton sighed, his shoulders slumping. The pain on his friend’s face was real, deep, excruciating. It was time to let it go. Jase was gone, and harboring so much resentment toward Cooper wouldn’t change that. “Why the hell didn’t you just tell me what was going on with you? You should have come to me sooner. I could have helped.”

  “I should have done a lot of things, Dax. I’ll let the guys know this is my last leg. Thanks for listening. That’s all I wanted.” He turned on his heel and started for the exit.

  “Stop.” Daxton leaned forward, holding his head. “We’ve dealt with enough over the past year. We can’t lose you, too.”

  Cooper twisted back around, his green eyes red-rimmed. “I’ve been lost for so long, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to find my way back.”

  Hell, wasn’t that ironic? It was exactly the way Daxton felt about his life before Sara. All the anger and resentment had eaten away at him for so long, poisoning any chance at happiness, leading him further into a maze with no exit…until he’d met Sara. She pulled him out of the quicksand that had become his suffocating existence. She was his second chance, his future, everything he had been missing for so long. Shouldn’t Cooper get that same shot? Didn’t he deserve a chance to make things right, to find meaning in his own life?

  “Listen, we’re gonna figure it out, Coop. You’re not alone in this. All those times you tried to talk to me, I should have listened.”

  “Can we really?“

  “Yeah. We can.” He clapped Cooper on the back. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Jesus, was it really love that had turned him into some kind of sucker? Sure seemed like it. The void in his heart had been filled. A small smile played at Daxton’s lips as he followed Cooper out of the cafeteria. He was happy. Finally.

  “THEY’RE SAYING IT WAS an accident? You have to be kidding me.” Daxton splashed water on his face and grabbed a hand towel from the sink ledge.

  “There have been engineers and investigators here for hours, testing and searching for any indication of foul play. Nada.” Sara rubbed the back of her neck. Dammit, that knot was so tight. “It’s too coincidental. I was supposed to be up on stage when it happened. Someone on the inside would have known that, just like they could have gotten that postcard onto my bed.”

  Daxton rubbed her shoulders. “Hey. Don’t worry. Security is on the alert. They’re keeping it quiet, too. You’re staying with me. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

  “But what if it’s a conspiracy? Maybe the label doesn’t want law enforcement to acknowledge it wasn’t an accident. That information would cause a panic and the tour would be canceled. The label would lose so much money, and—”

  “Listen, the label wouldn’t put two of their biggest money making bands in the line of fire. If the investigators can’t find anything, it’s because there’s nothing to find. It doesn’t mean there isn’t some sicko trying to get a rise out of you. It just means said sicko isn’t trying to kill you with a lighting fixture.” He smirked, nudging her. “Come on, smile.”

  She slumped against him, letting out a deep sigh. It made sense in theory, but in reality, there was a girl with a shattered spine and assorted broken limbs lying in a hospital bed. Could it really have been a freak accident? Stranger things had happened. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

  He tipped her head upward. “Trust me, I have lots of ideas about how we can get your mind off this crap.”

  “I just wish they’d found something. That way, the cops would have a reason to keep their eyes and ears open.” She nibbled a loose cuticle.

  “But they didn’t, and that’s a good thing. We don’t need a murderer on the loose. This tour is crazy enough. After the press conference, we’ll talk to the cops. I swear, nobody is going to hurt you.” He brushed his lips against hers, and good Lord, for those blissful moments, she couldn’t remember her own name, much less that she had an alleged stalker.

  “Mmm. More please,” she murmured against his ear, sliding her hands under his shirt. “Are you sure we can’t hide out here in your green room just a little bit longer?”

  Daxton grabbed his jacket from the couch. “Here, maybe this will hold you over until I can get you back onto the bus.” He tossed a paper bag at her.

  The sweet scent of grape swirled around her nose. “Oh, yum! Thank you!”

  “This is only a little taste. Something to occupy that mouth for a little while until I can take over.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re incredible.”

  “No, I’m not.” His expression sobered. “But I’m really happy, Sara. For the first time in so long, I feel good about my life and about what’s ahead. It’s because of you.”

  It was impossible. There was no way she could stop the smile from spreading across her face. “Really?” God, she was in deep with this man; the cocky rock god with a smile that could melt the panties off a nun. Could this thing between them really happen or was it just a case of tourmance? Were these feelings truly real or was this tour an alternate reality that would disappear once the media circus was over?

  “Yeah.” He cupped her face, his breath tickling her cheeks. “And I need you in my life because I’m in love with you.”

  “You’re in…” She gulped, afraid to repeat the words, just in case he’d said them under some kind of spell, which might be broken if she uttered them again. “…you’re in love with me?”

  “Yep.” He traced her cheekbone, fingers trailing a path down her neck. Her skin tingled at his soft touch. It was so good, too good. Oh God, if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. But if it wasn’t, and he really did say it, where could it possibly lead?

  “Are you sure, Dax? I mean, isn’t this like the movies, where co-stars fall for one another because they’re constantly thrown together? And then when the filming is over, so is the ride?” Her heart pounded so hard, her body shuddered from the force. “I know I’m not like any of the girls you normally date. Maybe it’s just because I’m different. You think you feel this way but really, it’s just—”

  “Are you trying to convince me that I’m not in love with you?” His hands skimmed her hips, gripping them tight. She gasped as he pressed into her. God, did she want to be on her back, or in any other position, for that matter. “Exactly how much proof do you need?”

  “I don’t need proof, it’s just…I mean, I want you to be sure because…” She inhaled, drinking in his heady scent. Cloudy with lust. That was the best way to describe her mind at that moment. Her knees buckled and she melted into his muscular embrace. Say it, say it, say it already! “…because I love you, too.”

  The corners of his lips curled upward into a wicked smirk, the gold flecks in his dark eyes glimmering with need. “So you finally admit
it.”

  “What?” She recoiled. “You think just because you’re a rock star, every breathing female is just going to automatically puddle around your mismatched socks?”

  “Ouch. I didn’t know my socks were such a problem for you.” His grip tightened, his grin deepening. Good Lord, he was maddening sometimes. “Say it again, please.”

  “Which part? The one about you being a cocky rock star?” A fluttering sensation erupted in her belly, his soft lips on her neck setting her skin ablaze.

  “No, the other part.”

  His tongue was so delicious and deviant, and just knowing they couldn’t escape back to the bus until later was torture of the most delectable kind. Tiny shivers danced across the back of her neck as his mouth feasted on the sensitive area behind her ear. Never did she think that such an innocent place could make her drip with desire, but Daxton, the cocky rock god - her cocky rock god - knew just what buttons to press. “I love you,” she breathed. “And your mismatched socks.”

  IT WAS HARD NOT TO laugh out loud. So much for advanced degrees. Those engineers couldn’t pick out a faulty cable if there was a Post-It stuck to it saying, Here I am!

  The lead investigator gave his statement at the press conference in painstaking detail, explaining every check completed over the course of the day. The final assessment? Just a freak accident. Venue management must have been shitting cement blocks waiting to hear those words.

  How about that? You really could find anything on YouTube. And even an amateur job was still a half-way decent one…save for one tiny detail; that fixture hadn’t taken out Sara, along with that whore, Gia. One tiny change to the itinerary would have had Sara on stage, and both sluts would have been sufficiently flattened. But those damned PAs shared a brain between them. How hard was it to print new copies for everyone? Idiots. They’d be next on the growing list.

  Sara fidgeted a few feet away in her heels. Daxton’s eyes never left her, even when the press began firing questions. They were in their own little bubble, no doubt counting the seconds before they could escape back to the bus. It was so tempting to bludgeon her with a microphone stand. Stupid bitch in her slutty getups. She could never keep Daxton satisfied. He needed…no, deserved…so much more. Weren’t girls from Minnesota supposed to be a bunch of prudes, anyway? What the hell was it about her that had Daxton so fucking pussy-whipped?