Violet's eyes catch mine. She waves me over.
"Hey." She smiles and pats her seat.
Kara's dark eyes light up. "Ethan, hey. Hold on."
She starts to push herself up. Immediately, Drew is out of his chair to help her.
"I'm not that pregnant, Denton. I can handle this." She places her hand on her belly. "At five months people are still looking at me like they aren't sure if I'm knocked up or if it's all the grilled cheese."
Violet laughs. "You have that glow."
Kara smiles. "Mostly, I have heartburn." She looks up at Drew. "Alexandra is almost as difficult as you are."
Drew smiles. "Not possible."
"She's a girl?" Violet asks.
Kara nods. "Yeah, but I would have painted the nursery pink either way."
"We rent, we can't paint the extra room," Drew says.
"He's so uptight for a rock star, huh?" Kara rises to her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Drew's lips.
He murmurs into her cheeks. "You look fucking divine in that dress."
She sighs as she wraps her arms around him.
"I'll make this fast. I want to make you come right away." He kisses her again.
"You know they heard that, right?" she asks.
Drew nods then he leans in close enough that his whisper is only audible to Kara.
It's funny. Everything I've heard about Drew from Joel—back when Drew was the Dangerous Noise guitarist, he made everyone's lives miserable with his diva-like ways and his fights with his ex-girlfriend—paints the guitarist as a truly miserable guy.
But I'm not sure I've seen anyone as happy as he is.
As in love as he is.
I've worked with him enough to know two things—he's a perfectionist and he loves his fiancée as much as anyone has ever loved another person.
Drew nods to me. "Let's talk."
"Sure." I kiss Violet on the cheek and follow Drew to an empty spot in the corner of the room.
His dark eyes get serious. "Fuck, Ethan, I don't think it's possible for me to thank you enough for filling in for me." His smile widens as he watches Kara and Violet chat. "I couldn't have made this work without you."
"It was nothing."
"Fuck that. It was a lot. I know my shit is hard."
"It is. That on purpose?"
"More fun that way."
His gaze drifts to his fiancée. His eyes light up. He lets out a wistful sigh.
He's happy as a fucking clam.
This is none of my business. I should keep it to myself.
But I gotta ask. "Would you really have quit the band for Kara?"
"For Kara? No. Kara made me promise not to quit the band. If she asked? Yeah, in a heartbeat." He laughs. "You know what it's like when you love someone. That always comes first."
"Yeah, right." My words are hollow.
I'm not sure I can put anything ahead of music. Ever. I loved Violet when we were together. I want to be with her but I've been working on music since I was fifteen. I can't fuck up again. Not for anything.
Drew's voice is still dreamy. "I loved the guitar as much as anyone could, but music will never compare to family. Kara's always been my family. It's more obvious to other people now that she's pregnant, but she's always been my home. Wherever she is, that's where I want to be."
His dark eyes light up as he watches her.
He knows exactly where shit stands. Kara comes first. Their family comes first.
"Seriously, Ethan, anything you need, let me know. Can't offer much besides my skill on guitar but I'm more than happy to fill in for you."
"I'll think about that."
Drew looks to me and raises a brow. "You alright?"
Maybe. I offer Drew my hand.
He shakes his head and pulls me into a hug.
He steps back with a smile and returns to his fiancée.
I follow.
Kara is complimenting Violet's makeup and commiserating about graduate school. She's about to graduate with her Teaching Credential. She found a job that was willing to defer her employment for a year, what with her being due right when the school year starts.
Violet leans in to whisper something to her.
Kara laughs. "Aren't they always?" She turns to me. "Thank you, Ethan. I… I don't know what to say." She pulls me into a hug then plants a kiss on my cheek. "You're really a great guy. Thank you."
Fuck, I'm blushing now.
Kara steps back and whispers something to Drew.
He shakes Violet's hand. "It was nice to finally meet you officially."
She smiles. "You too."
We exchange goodbyes then the happy couple hurries to the elevator bank.
Violet moves close enough to whisper. "I think the two of them might be in love with you."
"They're thankful."
"It's sweet how you helped them." She pulls me into a hug and rests her head on my chest. "Kara's right. You are a great guy."
My cheeks burn hotter. I don't blush over anything. Fuck, this sucks.
She lets out a long, deep sigh of pleasure as she pulls me closer. "So why are you taking me to LAX?"
I have to laugh. "Damn, gossip travels fast."
"It does."
"What do you know?"
"I heard something about a private jet, but that can't be right."
"It is."
She jolts upright. "No fucking way."
I nod. "Drew flew in today. It's already here, scheduled to go back to Los Angeles tonight."
Delight spreads over her face. "We're going on a private jet?"
"Just the two of us."
"No fucking way!!!"
God, I love seeing her like this. I soak in all the excitement in her green eyes. "We get in sometime about four A.M. I already have your stuff packed. It's in the limo."
"We're taking a limo?"
I nod.
"Fuck, Ethan, that's amazing! And you got everything?"
"Everything except underwear. That went missing somehow."
"Ethan!" She squeals with glee. "It did not."
"No, it didn't." I press my forehead to hers. "It's packed in your duffel. Everything's in there."
"What are we doing in LA?"
"I'll tell you." I drag my lips over her neck. "After we join the mile high club."
She giggles. "Deal."
Violet's eyes go wide as she steps onto the private jet. "No fucking way!" She runs her fingers over the plush leather couch. "This must cost twenty grand. This is ridiculous."
"The perks of working with a big label."
"The perks of being a rock star." She throws herself on the couch and spreads out like a starfish. "Is it too late to give up math and pick up a guitar?"
"No. But you won't be happy if you give up math."
"And I have stupid fingers." She wiggles said fingers. "Really, all they can do is hold a pencil."
I lift her feet so I can slide next to her. "We've both seen them do more than that."
Violet's cheeks flush. She laughs. "That too." She sits up enough to rest her head on my shoulder. "So why are we flying into LAX?"
"Let me check." I put my finger to my chin to mime thinking. "Have we joined the mile high club yet?"
"We haven't taken off yet."
"Then I can't tell you."
"You're a difficult man, Mr. Strong." She plants a kiss on my lips, then she pushes herself up to explore the plane.
Violet looks over every nook and cranny—both plush couches, the half a dozen equally plush seats, the TV, the minibar. She barely notices the pilot and co-pilot enter the plan and announce thirty minutes to take off.
I have to grab her and strap her into a seatbelt for takeoff.
She reaches over the wide aisle to take my hand—Violet's always been nervous during takeoff and landing. I squeeze tightly until the pilot announces that we're at cruising altitude.
Violet undoes her seatbelt, then mine. She slides into my lap, hooking her arm around my neck. Her fingers p
lay with my hair.
She tugs my t-shirt down enough to trace the lines of my tattoo. "Baby, do I have the key to your heart?"
I nod.
Her green eyes go wide. Her voice gets soft. "Really?"
"You always have."
"You never talk about yourself, Ethan. About the things that hurt you. Even back in college, well, when I was in college." She runs her fingertips over my neck. "Tell me about something that hurt you. Something that didn't involve me."
My heartbeat picks up. I don't like talking about myself. Not the real shit. There are too many ugly things.
"Please," she whispers.
"Anything that hurt me?"
She nods.
"If you'll go second."
"Okay." She curls up against my chest like it's her favorite place in the world.
I run my fingers through her hair. Nobody has ever asked me to talk about something that hurt me. I have no idea where to start.
I go with the first thing that comes to mind. "I started playing guitar when I was twelve. Wrote my first song as soon as I could figure it out. I played it for Mal a hundred times. I played it for Piper two hundred times. Both of them loved it, though you know Mal, even then, at fifteen, he was nonchalant about his encouragement."
"I can imagine."
"He made a point about getting our parents to sit down to listen one night after dinner. I was excited to play it for them. As soon as I got home from school, I practiced all afternoon. Then after dinner, they said they had to work. They didn't have time to hear it. I was still excited to play for them, to make them proud. But they had to work the next night. Then they had a two-week trip to study the gorillas. I wrote another three songs, even a duet with Mal. Our babysitter loved them, but when Mom and Dad got back, they didn't remember about the song. They didn't care."
"That must have hurt."
"Yeah. I held out hope for a long time. A few times, Mal got them to sit still long enough to listen to one of my songs or our songs, as we started writing together, but they never really listened. They never came to our talent shows or, once we really started performing, our actual shows. Fuck, I guess I'm still holding onto hope. Sometimes, I expect them to show up backstage to tell us they're proud. Something."
"I'm sorry." She rests her head on my chest. "For whatever it's worth, I'm proud of you."
"Yeah?"
She nods. "You're amazing on stage. Not just the way you play—though you play very well—but the way you engage with the crowd. I'm sure you remember all the other bands I saw at your shows, the openers or the headliners. So many of them looked at their feet or each other. But you… you're really there, in that moment, playing your heart out."
Now I'm smiling.
She presses her forehead to mine. "I want to be that good at something one day."
"What about, what was it called?"
"Differential geometry? I'm good, but not that good." She looks up at me. "I guess it's my turn, huh?"
"Yeah. Something that hurt you, besides me."
"Damn, you take up a lot of that space." Her eyes go to the window. She watches the night sky for a minute, then her eyes are back on mine. "When I was in high school, I got suspended for telling a teacher to go fuck himself."
"Which teacher?"
"English. I asked him why we didn't read any female authors and he started going off on how they only wrote about women's stories, and I just lost it."
I can see a teenage Violet cursing out a teacher. In fact, I can see twenty-three-year-old Violet doing the same thing.
She continues. "That was fine. I was proud. But my parents had to come from one of Asher's piano recitals. Both of them left, right before he performed. When Asher got home, he told me I was a bitch for screwing up his performance. He looked out and he didn't see Mom and Dad and he missed a bunch of notes, and then he didn't get into the right college. He had to go to Cal State Fullerton. It has a good program but it was his third choice. It was this whole thing and it was my fault."
I pull her closer.
"It was supposed to be us versus our parents. It wasn't that they'd done anything wrong. It was the usual high school why do my parents have rules I have to follow thing. But after that day, it became him versus me. And we never went back to being on the same team." Her eyes go to the floor. "It wasn't just him. It was me, too. I pushed him away. If I hadn't…"
"You couldn't have saved him, Vi."
"Maybe." She lets out a heavy sigh. "I know you're right, but I don't feel it yet."
"You will."
"You promise?"
"I do." I cup the back of her neck and tilt her head so we're eye to eye. "You want to know why we're flying to Los Angeles?"
She nods.
"It's because we can't fly into John Wayne. No arrivals between eleven P.M. and seven A.M."
Her eyes flare with curiosity.
"The night of Asher's funeral, I sat in your bed and I played all the songs he would have liked. You told me he would have hated being stuck in an urn in your parents' living room. You told me he would have wanted to be someplace where he could feel free, like in the Pacific Ocean."
"I did say that."
"You said he'd want to float away from the Huntington Pier."
"Ethan—"
"What do you say, Vi? You game to break the law?"
"Yeah."
"Gonna make you get your parents' blessing first."
"You're no fun."
"I can prove you wrong about that right now."
She smiles and slings her leg over my hips. "Ethan, this is—" She presses her lips to mine in a deep, slow kiss. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."
"It's nothing."
"No, it's everything." She kisses me hard and deep. "Is it fucked up that I'm wet?"
"A little." I slide my hand under her skirt and press my palm against her panties. "But normal for a goth babe."
"Am I goth or am I a Cali girl?"
"You're a goth Cali girl."
She shakes her head. "Ethan, I… I…" She leans down and kisses me again. It's harder this time. Needier. "Please."
I pull her panties to her knees as I kiss her back.
This—making Violet happy, making Violet come—means the fucking world to me.
But if I had a gun to my head and I had to choose between her and music…
Her lips crash into mine. She groans into my mouth as she shimmies out of her panties.
I stare into Violet's gorgeous green eyes.
She needs to be mine forever. But will I really be able to keep her if I can't put her leagues ahead of everything else?
My thoughts evaporate as her hands go to my jeans. She rubs me with her palm then she undoes my belt and pulls down my zipper.
I lift my hips so she can push my jeans to my knees.
Right now, Violet is mine.
Right now, everything in my life is where it's supposed to be.
I need to keep things like this.
I bring my hands to her hips and I kiss her with everything I've got. Violet groans as I pull her body onto mine. She's already wet. Fuck, she still feels like heaven. I take my time entering her. I drag my fingers through her hair. I drag my lips to her cheek, her neck.
"Ethan," she groans as I bite her. "Please."
I tease her with a few scrapes of my teeth, then I bite her.
Violet plants her hands on my shoulders. She grinds her hips against mine. It's slow circles at first. Then it's harder. Faster. More.
Pleasure starts to overtake me. Right now, I need Violet screaming my name. Right now, her feeling good is the only thing that matters to me.
I dig my hands into her hips to guide her movements. Once she's panting and groaning I bite her again and again.
Fuck, she feels good and the way she groans and writhes and screams my name only urges me on. Everything blurs together until my world is Violet's pleasure.
The desire in her eyes.
The groans falling from her lips.
The soft skin on her neck.
The sharp pain of her nails digging into my skin as I bite her.
"Fuck, Ethan." She tugs at my hair. Her hips buck against mine as she goes to the edge.
Everything else falls away as I watch her come. The way she pulses around me, pulling me closer and deeper, wracks my body with pleasure.
My eyelids press together. "Fuck, Violet."
I groan through my thrusts. I kiss her hard, my tongue claiming her mouth, my cock claiming her cunt. She's mine.
She needs to be mine forever.
I pull her closer as I thrust through my orgasm. Fuck, she feels so good.
Violet kisses back, groaning into my mouth like she'll never get enough of this, never get enough of me.
I don't slow until I'm empty.
Still, my lips stay pressed to hers.
Chapter 29
Ethan
We get to my place, technically my parents' place, in Huntington Beach, around sunrise. We go straight to my room and fall asleep together in my bed.
It's like heaven sleeping next to Violet.
Even so, I wake up tired and achy. I've spent most of my time traveling for the last two years, but skipping around time zones isn't the kind of thing your body gets used to.
I need coffee, a long workout, and a longer shower.
First, I need to soak in waking up next to Violet. I need to soak in how fucking good it feels that she's here.
That she's mine.
After a long moment taking in Violet in my bed, I go through my usual morning routine and I head downstairs. It's early enough the sky is white—mornings by the beach are always dreary. Still, Piper is sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and staring at her cell phone.
Who is she talking to?
She jumps to her feet when she sees me. "Those are Violet's shoes by the door." She pulls me into a tight hug. "Tell me you're back together." When I say nothing, she drops her voice to something serious. "I swear to God, Ethan, if you tell me some bullshit, I'm going to throw this coffee in your face."
I step back and cock an eyebrow.
"It's not hot enough to scar." She offers me a sip to prove my point.
"I believe you."
She pours a cup for me and pats the seat next to hers. "So…"
Dangerous Kiss (Dangerous Noise Book 1) Page 19