by Dana Delamar
She raised her hand. “Save it. Just get your gear and get going. We’ll talk when you’re ready to be civil.” She turned on her heel and walked off, arms still crossed, back stiff.
Bloody hell. I trotted to catch up to her. “Sky—”
“No excuses, Rod. I don’t want to hear them.” She wouldn’t even look at me.
Fantastic. We’d been here, what, two minutes? And I’d already pissed her off.
“You never returned our calls,” I blurted. “Just took off like a thief in the night.”
She stopped walking and glared at me. “We’re not talking about this now.”
“But we will later.”
“I’m here to do a job.”
“You’re here because I asked for you, love.”
Her cheeks reddened, and she took a visible breath, slowly expelling it. “I’m aware. We’ll talk when I’m ready.”
She walked away, her brown curls cascading down her back, her lovely arse perfectly filling out her trousers. I was half-hard just looking at her, memories crashing into me—Sky in my arms, moaning my name, the way she stretched like a cat after a great fuck. The way Dev looked at her like she’d hung the moon.
Had he even seen her yet? I shouldered my rucksack and looked around for him. Sure enough, he’d caught up to her at the door to a spacious whitewashed building, his face lit up like it was Christmas morning as he chatted with her.
Christ. Had I just played matchmaker for the two of them? My gut twisted. Yeah, well if I had, at least I’d be leaving him with something if we couldn’t fix this.
Because I bloody well was not about to sit around and watch the two of them sail off into the sunset together.
I caught up to Mick, Damon, Jules, and Tommy as they were walking inside.
“Nice of you to join us,” Damon said.
“Cheeky bastard.” I smirked at him. I didn’t like that he’d taken Dev’s place in the band, but I couldn’t hold it against the guy. He was all right. For a Yank.
“Someone has to keep you in line,” Mick said.
“You lot can sod off now.” I stepped inside the building and cool air washed over me. Thank the saints this place had air-conditioning. I might have to stay inside the rest of this bloody trip.
Our roadies were hauling in our gear and setting up for us, so we took chairs that someone had pulled into a semicircle.
Sky sat next to Dev, the two of them still chatting quietly. How could he talk to her so easily? How could she?
And how come I couldn’t talk to either of them without starting bloody World War III?
Fuck. I needed a drink. And a shag. And a little something to make me forget my troubles.
Once we’d all taken our seats, Sky turned to us, her eyes meeting mine, hers still glacial.
“In case you don’t remember, I’m Sky River. We met three months ago when Reeling Records hosted that team-building exercise.”
Damon raised his hand. “I wasn’t there for that.”
She grinned. “You’re Damon Mercury, right?”
“The one and only. You’re a SoCal girl, yeah?”
She nodded. “That obvious?”
He raised a hand in the “hang ten” gesture of surfers everywhere. “From LA myself.”
“Berkeley,” she said and tucked her hair behind her ear.
Christ. Was she going to flirt with him too?
That twist in my gut intensified. What if she ended up in bed with Dev and Damon? I hadn’t thought this through, had I?
She reached into a big bag at her feet and pulled out a box of protein bars and handed it around. “So, let me tell you all how things are going to go while we’re here.” She held up a couple of the bars. “This is today’s lunch. You can have as many as you like.”
What the fuck? “I’m gonna die if this is all I get to eat.”
“You’re not going to die,” Sky said. “You can have all you want.”
“Some real food is what I want.”
Damon took a bite out of a protein bar. “Hey, I lived off these damn things for years. You’re all caviar and champagne. That’s the problem with this band. You’ve gone soft. Lost your edge.”
Heat rose up my neck. “Since when are you an expert on this band?”
He shrugged. “Just an observation.”
“Well, you can keep your big gob shut.”
“Rod,” Dev said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it over the blood roaring in my ears.
I crossed my arms. Fine. I’d keep my big gob shut since no one wanted to talk to me anyway.
“Why protein bars?” Tommy asked.
Sky blessed him with a smile. “Think of this like Survivor. If you all work together, you earn rewards. Like real food. If you don’t, you get these.” She wiggled a bar in the air.
Jules raised a hand. “How do we get voted off the island? I’d like to be first.”
Everybody laughed. Everybody but me.
“No one is getting voted off,” Sky said, her eyes coming to rest on me again. “The only way you get to leave is as a team—either you all agree to keep the band together, or you all agree to dissolve it.”
“You can’t bloody keep me here,” I said.
“For two weeks I can,” she said, her voice soft. “You agreed to it.”
I had, idiot that I was. “The label can sue me.”
“They will,” Dev said.
“I don’t bloody care.”
“I do,” he said, his brown eyes holding mine. “You do too.”
“Don’t presume to speak for me.”
He held his hands palm out. “It’s true. Or else you wouldn’t be here.”
It was on my tongue to snap at him, but for once I didn’t. This is all on you, Dev. I wanted to say it so badly I could taste it. But this wasn’t the time for that. And we’d already had this discussion.
Well, it had been a bloody row, more like.
Sky broke in. “Each day you’ll get some kind of challenge. If you successfully complete it, you get a reward.”
“I’m not a child.”
She raised a brow. “You’re doing a good impression of one.”
“Burn!” Damon shouted, then sniggered behind his hand, the little prat. And Tommy, Mick, and Jules didn’t even bother to hide their amusement. Dev was the only one who didn’t laugh.
“What’s today’s ‘challenge’ then?”
“Today after rehearsal, you get to build your own shelters. The ones who finish their huts within three hours get to stay in the bungalows tonight and have real food for dinner. The ones who don’t complete the challenge will stay in whatever they’ve built or sleep on the beach, and they get more protein bars for dinner.”
Was she having a laugh? “You think these stupid little exercises will do the trick? If I’d known this was your brilliant idea of how to fix things, I wouldn’t have asked for you.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have dragged me into it again, but here I am.”
“Again?” I asked.
Her lips pursed. “You know what I mean.”
“Man, I wish I had some popcorn,” Damon said, leaning forward like he wanted a better view of the drama.
“Fuck this.” I was out of my chair and out the door before anyone could stop me. I charged into the blistering sunshine and grabbed my sunglasses out of my pocket.
The scent of cigarettes tickled my nose, and I turned. Bloody Nigel. “Where are you off to?” he asked.
“She’s fucking with us. I don’t have to put up with it.”
The ginger-haired jizztrumpet took a long drag on his cigarette. “For someone who put up a one-million-pound bonus for the facilitator—the one you insisted on—you certainly don’t seem motivated to make things work.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? If you and the label aren’t happy, you can fire me.” I stepped closer. “You’d love that. I know you would.”
“I wouldn’t be sad to see the backside of you. Except that King’s Cross will f
all apart.”
“Then it’s going to bloody fall apart.”
I stomped off, not sure where I was going until I spotted some of the roadies hanging out at another large building nearby. No doubt one of them had something that could get my mind off the dog’s breakfast I’d made of my life.
DEV
I smashed the hammer down on my thumb and had to bite back a bloody blue storm, although “Fucking fuck!” did manage to slip out. I dropped the tool into the sand and wrapped my pulsating thumb with my opposite hand, hoping to keep the pain down. It didn’t work. I turned my back to the lads so they couldn’t see how frustrated I was with this whole situation.
“Sorry, mate,” Tommy said, sounding abashed.
“Wish we could help you more, but if we don’t head to the canteen right about now, that slave driver will deny us our prize,” Mick said. Everything was about food with that one. It was a bloody wonder he didn’t weigh fifteen stone.
“No, no. You should go.” I closed my eyes and breathed deeply a few times to calm myself before turning back to them with a feigned smile. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of my face, ever so bloody slowly. The lower it got on my face, the harder it was to maintain my smile. I’m sure I looked like a constipated baby by now.
I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt, then dug the hammer out of the sand and climbed up onto the wooden ladders Sky had allowed us to use to nail in the last plank. I glanced over my shoulder. The lads were all still there watching me. “Go on, now. It’s not your fault that wanker couldn’t be arsed to even show up.”
If I was to sleep in this shitbox, at least it would have a roof. After I finished nailing the last plank in place, I stepped off the ladder, picked up a large palm frond that would help the roof shed rain, and began affixing it to the structure.
“Not your fault either, is it?” Jules asked. The whole lot of them were still lingering around.
I shrugged. Rod had said he couldn’t stand the sight of me, so in a way it was my fault, not that I wanted to share the details with the others.
“All right. Like, it’s been hella nice slaving away with you guys, but I’m outtie.” Damon clapped me on the back. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite, oh wait.” His face broke into a wide grin. “You don’t have a bed.”
The lads’ laughter continued as they trudged over to the canteen and disappeared inside, leaving me alone on the beach with my half-finished hut where I’d be spending the night. Just me, the waves, and the giant sodding mosquitoes that would soon be making their appearance. I didn’t even want to think about what else might be out here burrowed in the sand or in the leafy canopy.
I shuddered and went back to finishing the fucking hut. With a handful of nails in my pocket, along with some twine, I carefully climbed onto the ladder. After another hour of hard work, the hut, my home for the night, was finally finished.
I slumped down in the sand, fine and white like powdered sugar, and closed my eyes. I was fucking knackered. The decisions I’d made about my future weighed heavily on my mind. I’d barely slept more than a few hours at a time since my aborted capitulation to my parents’ demands. I still intended to tell them I’d marry Kalini, but I was giving myself until after Aahna’s wedding to tell them. To commit myself to a future I’d never wanted.
The gentle susurration of the waves rolling onto the beach carried a mournful melody that reminded me of a song I’ve been working on since before meeting Sky three months ago. The subsequent cold war with Rod had siphoned all my creativity and the notes had never come to me.
But as I lay in the cooling sand, with the world’s most colorful sunset in front of me, ideas formed. I sprang to my feet and grabbed my acoustic guitar out of its case. The Taylor was the only one I used for songwriting. I sat on a rock and began picking out the tune, changing a note here and there until I was satisfied. Then I started to hum, and the humming turned into words.
You left, you think you’ve won
But I have to tell you
We’re far from done
Yeah. I liked that. Rod and I had a lot of unfinished business. I let the feelings pour through me, the pain I was feeling, the frustration as well as the desire for a different future.
You walked away from all of this
But you and I, we’re unfinished.
That could be the chorus, or at least part of it. Lyrics weren’t really my thing. They were Rod’s half of our duo. The duo that no longer existed.
Fuck. My chest tightened, burned. He’d been my best friend forever, the Morrissey to my Marr. We’d gone through every major event at each other’s sides. How the bloody hell did I think I could get through life without him?
My fingers stopped playing and I let my head drop.
“Oh, that was beautiful,” Sky said.
Startled, I jumped to my feet and searched the area, only then noticing how dark it was getting. Sky stepped closer, a nervous smile on her lips. She wore a pretty dress in a floral print, one of those long, floaty ones that had a slit up the side of one leg and narrow shoulder straps. It looked amazing on her.
She pointed to a bundle at her feet. “I brought you a sleeping bag, a pillow, a mosquito net, protein bars, and some water.”
“Ah… that was very kind of you.”
She ducked her head. “Not really. It was my challenge that put you in this situation in the first place.”
I shook my head. “Rod did that. Not you.” I rummaged through the things she’d brought and found the protein bars. I ripped open the packaging on one and devoured it.
Laughing, she handed me a bottle of water. “I guess you’re hungry.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I muttered around a large bite. The song had kept my mind so occupied, I hadn’t realized just how starved I’d been. I took the water she held out and emptied half the bottle in one swig.
When she moved to drag the sleeping bag and pillow into the hut, I set the bottle down and went to help her. “Let me.”
“It’s all right. Enjoy your food. It won’t take me more than a minute to set this net up over your bedding.”
By the time I finished the second bar, she crawled out of the hut, a pleased smile on her face. “At least the bugs won’t get you now.” She rose to her feet in front of me and ran a finger down my cheek. “Wouldn’t want this gorgeous face marred by bites.”
“Er…”
Brilliant, mate. Brilliant fucking response.
The woman rattled my brains. She always had done.
“Do you… um… want to make a fire? There’s a cord of wood by the canteen.”
“Oh sure,” I said. Another brilliant response. I patted my pockets. “But I haven’t any matches.”
“Not a Boy Scout, huh?”
Heat hit my face.
“Hey, I’m just teasing.” She plucked a pack of matches from her pocket. “We’re all set.”
I collected some wood from behind the canteen, and Sky used her Girl Guide skills to build us a fire. Then we rolled a log over from one of the resort’s main fire pits. We’d barely spoken more than a couple words during this entire process and the silence between us was becoming uncomfortable, a void that grew and gaped.
My mind raced with thoughts of what to do, what to say. I’d spent a week with Sky and Rod in Palm Springs. I’d told her I loved her. But now I realized the truth: I barely knew Sky. What was her favorite color? Her favorite book? What kind of food did she like? What did she refuse to eat? I’d never thought to ask any of these questions, because the three of us had been too busy. Too busy fucking.
I was a right poor gentleman.
To fill the silence, I pulled my guitar out of its case and began plucking at the strings.
Sky cleared her throat. “That song you were singing when I showed up, was it…” Her cheeks turned bright red as she looked down at her hands. “Was it about me?”
Surprised, I could only stare at her. The words replayed in my mind. Yes, I could see how she might have reached that conc
lusion. I gave her a sad smile. “No, but it does apply, yeah?” I’d told this woman I loved her, and she’d disappeared by daybreak.
She flinched and her gaze flicked to my face before returning to her hands. “I’m sorry I left like that.”
“Are you now?”
“Yes.”
“So why didn’t you return any of my calls or texts?”
She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. “It just all got too intense.”
“You mean when I told you how I felt about you?”
A frown marred her forehead for a moment. Then she said, “You don’t remember?”
Now it was my turn to frown. “Remember what exactly?”
Ignoring my question, she waved toward the guitar I had propped on my thigh. “The song, it’s about Rod then? The unfinished business you have is with him?”
I nodded. “Yes. He tried to quit…” Us. “…the band.”
“I see.” She stared into the fire. The dancing light of the flames illuminated her beautiful face and reflected off her dark hair.
The truth was, I had unfinished business with her as well. Sky was the only woman I’d ever loved. The only woman I’d ever imagined in my life. I was certain that had she not run off, I’d have asked her to marry me by now.
And what about Rod?
I gritted my teeth and began strumming my guitar. My feelings for Rod were too confusing to contemplate right now, not when I had a beautiful woman sitting next to me.
“Rod’s probably on the pull, but we can have a little fun of our own,” I said with a wink. “Do you know this one?”
I launched into “You Shake Me,” a quirky, upbeat song from our previous album that had hit the top of the charts in England and had received a lot of airtime in America. I remembered her telling me it was her favorite King’s Cross song.
When I finished, she clapped her hands, her face beaming. “That was so good. If Rod does end up leaving the band, you could step up and be the lead singer.”
Her suggestion left me gobsmacked. “Me? No way,” I spluttered, almost choking on my own saliva.
“Why not? Your voice is really good.”
The very thought had my palms sweating and my heart beating like a drum. I wasn’t like Rod. I could never handle all the attention he got from the media, or from the fans who wanted his body while knowing little of his mind. He deserved so much better than that.