Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance

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Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance Page 8

by Creed, Lyrica


  Once the night was over, he would figure something out to get him through the day.

  Chapter 18

  “Scarlette! Hey, beautiful, how are you today?” The greetings rang out around me, and I slowed my pace to smile, taking in a few familiar faces behind camera snouts. “Who’s with you today? Can you comment on the video?”

  The last question snapped my last nerve, but I held my smiling countenance until I was safe behind the tinted windows of my ride. As I powered the engine to life, the passenger door closed and Derrick turned astounded eyes to me.

  “Damn. That’s crazy. Is it like that everywhere you go?”

  “Just the usual paparazzi hangouts.” And my hangouts once they figure them out. And my house if they’re bored. Keeping my inner replies silent, I curved a smile. “And LAX is one of those hangouts.”

  “I could have taken a cab.”

  “It would have been a fortune. Besides, I couldn’t wait to see you.” When he remained contemplative, I asked, “What?”

  “It’s just weird. Seeing you like this. I still can’t believe you never told any of us. Who you are.”

  “You know who I am. That, making nice for the cameras is who they want me to be.”

  “So where are you taking me first?”

  “You know those lobster tacos we were addicted to back home?” The moment I said home, it felt weird on my tongue. My mother still lived in Belize. But it was no longer home. Even now that Gage and I were apart, L.A. felt like home. “Wait until you taste the fish tacos here.”

  “I like your priorities,” he mumbled between bites a half hour later. “You’re totally right about these tacos!”

  Wadding up the empty paper wrap now that my last taco was digesting, I fisted it as I thought of the last time Gage and I had been to this food truck. There had been no contact with him for almost two months, and it had been the longest two months of my life.

  When Derrick had hinted about spending fall break in L.A., I had considered the idea for a week before finally agreeing. Now I studied him with a slant of my eyes behind shades while keeping my face to the ocean. Could I go through with this? I hadn’t been with anyone sexually since that day with Gage in a barn.

  Derrick chattered about acquaintances we had in Belize. He had me laughing with some of the funnier stories. We walked the beach, and it seemed natural when he grabbed my hand. It felt good. But I casually pulled away and tried not to be obvious when looking uneasily around for phones pointed at me or paparazzi snouts.

  We were sitting in the sand and the sun was beginning a steady sink into the ocean when my phone buzzed. Pulling it from my pocket, I read the text, and then stretched as I got to my feet.

  “Ready?”

  “Whenever.” He shrugged his agreement.

  “I’ve got a paper due when break is over. A guy I know is bringing me by some notes. He had the class last semester.”

  “What made you decide not to go to Bastyr?”

  Now I was the one to shrug. It had been impossible to seek admission at the last minute. With things already going bad between me and Gage, I’d considered going back to Belize. In the end, I had stayed here, in the first place I’d ever felt at home.

  In the grand scheme of things, I had decided I wanted to apply my allopathic studies to chemical detoxification in a private rehab setting. Looking through the materials from Shady Oasis had made up my mind.

  Chemical detoxification had an eighty percent relapse rate. But, facilities like the one Gage was in, which used allopathic means to rid the impurities stored in fatty tissues, such as the method I’d already used on Gage, had only a thirty percent relapse rate.

  “I’m not sure.” Looking up I saw he hadn’t taken my shrug for an answer. “A lot of things, I guess.”

  “A relationship?”

  We had come to my car and I jolted to a stop, looking over the top of it as he rounded to the passenger side. “You mean…? No. Logan’s a friend. Only. Believe me.” I unlocked the door and we both settled in.

  “You sound almost hostile about that.”

  Checking my mirror, I pulled into traffic and then took a second to look over his teasing grin. “He’s Gage’s’ P.A.”

  “Oh.” Derrick clamped his lips closed and his brows drew together. “Enough said.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle, and he ran the tips of his fingers over the evening shadow on his jaw. “What happened with him, Scarla? Were you two…?”

  He knew about the sex clip. Even before I had mentioned it to him, word had gotten around in our circles. In the course of several conversations, a lot of what had happened since I’d arrived in L.A. had come out. But I’d always just grazed the subject of Gage.

  “Yeah.” Turning on my blinker, I eased into the exit nearest my home. “We were. I thought I loved him. But he’s a damn rock star. And he lives the life.” Was that fair to say now that he was out of rehab and onto a better tack? Maybe not. Only time would tell. But it was what was easiest to believe. Different worlds didn’t smack so much of rejection.

  We grew quiet while he D.J.’d from my playlist. I made the left from the boulevard into my subdivision, and another left onto my road. Here I groaned as I took my foot from the brake and let the car coast.

  He looked up from the songs in queue, silently questioning the outburst. I pointed to the white Accord I was very aware of these days. While I explained, he frowned.

  “Why does he seem familiar? Who is that?”

  “He’s nobody. A paps who won’t leave me alone for some reason.” I flipped my visor down when the paps guy straightened his squatty frame from his slouch against his car and pointed a camera at the windshield.

  From the digging Mike’s investigator had done, I’d learned the man’s name. Wayne Ketchum. According to the PI, he was a new addition to paparazzi faces, and he was more focused on me than other celebrities.

  “Don’t look at him.” Reaching over, I flipped the passenger visor down, and remembering the moon roof, I pressed the button, gliding it closed. I knew the late evening sun shining through the top of the car illuminated us even through the dark tint.

  “He just looks like… very familiar.”

  The gate slid closed behind the bumper, and I eased into my place in the garage. I breathed easier when the heavy door rolled down, cutting us off from the public world.

  “Are these people dangerous?”

  “Paparazzi?” We continued to sit in the car while I texted the downstairs neighbor who had been formally introduced as security detail shortly after I’d figured it out. “No. Just a nuisance. The ones like him are. But my bodyguard will get rid of him.” I felt my mouth twitch into a grin when his eyes widened.

  “You have a bodyguard? That’s who you were texting just now?”

  Nodding, I enjoyed the shock factor now when my anger had ebbed.

  “Damn, Scarla. This shit is crazy.”

  “I know. But the perks are good.” I popped open my door, and he followed suit. “Not slaving at a bar between classes for scratch. Not sweating my tuition, rent, and bills month to month…”

  “I have to say,” Derrick ran a hand over the hood of the Camry as he rounded it. “I’m disappointed in you. Any car your heart desires, and you passed on a Beamer or a Maserati, or…” He let the possibilities trail.

  “A Tesla.” I supplied, having already thought it out. “I’ll get a fun car soon. It’s just until this Tyler Conterra stuff dies down some, it’s easier to have something that doesn’t stand out.”

  “I can see that,” he agreed. Reaching my side, he let his hand rest on the small of my back as we walked. Through a back walkway and garden as the evening shadows fell. Into the back entryway, and up the stairs. Unlocking the apartment, I flipped on the light. The moment the door closed behind us, his arm encircled my waist and he hunched enough to lean his forehead to mine.

  “I missed you, Scarla.”

  “I missed you too.” And I had. He was easy. And easy di
dn’t hurt.

  I met his kiss, and when it went from a tender reacquainting of tongues to a wild and sweet mating, I pressed closer. The buzzing in the pocket of my jeans took a few seconds to infiltrate the heady moment. “Damn,” I whispered against his lips. “I should get that. He was on his way over.”

  “I’ll fix us a drink. What do you want?”

  “There’s a wine fridge on the counter next to the fridge.” I swiped open the text screen as he eased away and suddenly felt a prickle of dread when I comprehended the message.

  Logan

  Outside the gate now.

  7:44 PM

  Which meant… Yep. The blinds were still open because it had been daylight when I’d left. With the inside light on, the embrace I’d just shared with Derrick had been clear to anyone right outside in the dusk.

  I buzzed him inside the property and strode over to snap the blinds closed. A quick assessment of the road as I did so assured me the paps had disappeared and only Logan had been out there.

  Logan stayed for a glass of wine. His astute gaze continually strayed between me and Derrick. It didn’t surprise me when he subtly tried to learn all he could about Derrick as the three of us talked. I had a feeling the information would go straight to Gage. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. Gage and I both obviously had to move on. But as of yet, I hadn’t been slapped in the face with any of his women in any way. It bothered me that I hadn’t been more careful when knowing Logan was on his way over.

  “Thank you for the notes.” I walked him to the door, and then stepped into the hallway. “Listen. About Derrick. I’m hoping you won’t say anything.”

  His gray eyes honed in on my face. “You mean to Gage.”

  “Of course Gage.”

  To give him credit, he looked conflicted and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. Down the balustrade and back up, his attention wandered before meeting my face again. “I can’t promise that. He asks about you all the time.”

  “He does? You mean he’s got you spying on me!”

  “No, no, no. Damn no. He asks stuff like if I’ve seen the white car around your house. And if you’re having any problems at school now that Mike’s not going to your classes with you.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t decide if his answer made me feel better or worse. “I just don’t want to hurt him. He’s not hurting me.” If he was dating, he was subtle enough not to have the news splashed all over the rags.

  “He’ll be happy that you’re happy. I promise you that, Scarlette.”

  “Is he happy?”

  “Yeah. He is. He’s keeping busy with some new hobbies.”

  “New hobbies?” His tone hadn’t given any reason for this sense of dread. But I felt it. Bleeding through me like black ink. “Like what?”

  “He went bungee jumping a few weeks ago. Then I guess that wasn’t sick enough. Skydiving was next. He’s done that a few times now.”

  “What about his music?” In all the time Logan and I spent together on and off campus, I had refrained from bringing up Gage. Now with the subject open, I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “He’s been in the studio a lot with phenomenal stuff. I think Jax wants to sign him onto Jewelstone when all the legal mumbo jumbo with Fire Flight expires. But that’s between you and me. It’s not even close to being official. They’ve just been in contact a lot.”

  “Good.” I gnawed at the inside of my lip. I knew enough from my studies that fear was a form of getting high. It stimulated the same hormones. So extreme sports were often a substitution for drugs to a rehabilitated addict. “They’ll sign him. They’re not stupid.”

  Logan gave me a squeeze and bolted down the stairs, declaring he was late for a date. I returned inside to find Derrick stretched on the couch with a bag of chips and a bowl of my homemade salsa.

  “Damn, I missed this.” He crunched. “Good stuff. No one makes it like you.” Moving his legs by propping his socked feet on the back of the couch, he patted the cushion beside him in invitation. “Look what’s on!”

  The flat screen was alive with swimming sharks. “Shark week? In the fall?”

  “Rerun marathon.”

  Dropping to the cushion, I refilled my wineglass and curled my feet up, leaning my head against the back of the couch and his legs. Flashing the info button on the remote, I grinned at him as I returned it to the table. “So I guess you’ll be up all night watching sharks.”

  Lifting one leg, he lowered it in front of me, pinning me in. “Not watching sharks…”

  Pinching the crystal stem, I enjoyed the intimate fire flickering in his eyes and the affectionate smile quirking his lips. His attention turned back to a shark battering a caged diver. I emptied the glass a sip at a time and slid it onto the sofa table. When I repositioned with my head on his chest, he combed his fingers through my hair.

  He’ll be happy that you’re happy. I promise you that, Scarlette.

  Is he happy?

  Yeah. He is.

  Twisting, I put my lips to his. I halfway expected things to feel awkward and weird, but just like the kiss we’d shared when walking into the apartment, we fell into the natural routine we’d once had.

  It wasn’t Gage’s tongue against mine, or Gage’s callused fingers gliding over my skin, but my deprived body hummed with the attention. The sharks were forgotten. The narration of the program dimmed, and the only important sounds were the rustle of clothing and the husky sounds slipping from his lips.

  When we separated the kiss long enough for me to shrug from my shirt, I took in the bemusement twinkling along the embers in his gaze. Dropping my chin, I looked at myself, wondering if I was wearing the faded pink bra I’d mended with a safety pin, but no, my cleavage was spilling sexily from my black strappy, mesh Fredericks.

  “What?”

  “Nothin’. C’mere…” Hooking a forefinger to my chin, he drew my mouth back to his. The kiss raged wild and sweet, pulling a simultaneous groan from each of us. “That. That’s what.”

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s new. I like it.” His lips brushed mine as he spoke.

  Realizing he was speaking of kissing techniques I’d picked up from Gage, and that he’d been reciprocating them, I froze. When I couldn’t shake the damn rock star from my mind, I eased a leg to the floor and stood. “Shower or bed?”

  “Either. As long as I get to undress you.” Coming up off the couch as he answered, he moved in and pushed the straps of my bra down each shoulder.

  Chapter 19

  “You truly don’t have anything to drink?” The young woman pursed her lips in a pout as she pranced around the suite.

  Since it was around the third time she’d asked the question in one way or another, Gage abandoned the smooth tanned skin he’d been tasting to look up. “You need a drink to suck me?”

  “Maybe.” She batted her long fake lashes and simpered with glossy lips.

  Rousing enough to prop on the headboard of the huge bed, Gage glared, in no mood for humor. “Go downstairs then. To the bar.” He slid one hand beneath the thong of the woman on his right, and his other hand covered the tits of the woman on his left. With a look at the blond mass of hair spilling around his cock, he threatened, “I can’t promise I’ll be leaving this bed to let you back in though, if you leave.”

  “Hey, Gage…” The lovely topless brunette spoke from a chair where she sat, feet propped on the bed, staring at her phone. “My friend wants to come up.”

  Arching his brows, he returned, “Is she bringing a friend?”

  “Um…”

  “That’s the only rule of this party. Bring a friend.”

  “Who brings a friend, who brings a friend.” Blonde Babe stopped playing with his dick long enough to giggle the quotation they’d all heard a few times during the course of the afternoon.

  Little Miss Alcoholic forewent a trip downstairs to the bar and returned to the tangle. “You,” he snapped his fingers at her and pointed at Blonde Babe. “Trade places.”

/>   “But I just got here,” Blonde Babe blinked in disappointment over the head of his cock.

  “She’s better.”

  “That’s just mean.” The lips on his chest mumbled in loyal sisterhood fashion.

  “Yeah. It was. Sorry. Tell you what.” He reached down to ruffle Blonde Babe’s hair. “Stay.” To Little Miss Alcoholic he said, “Show her.” Swinging his eyes back to Blonde Babe, he encouraged, “Take turns. Do what she does.” His body melted down the headboard. Motioning, he addressed the woman who was putting her phone away. “You get that friend stuff sorted out? Bring those tits here.” And to punctuate that directive, he put his tongue out.

  How many women were there? He wasn’t sure without opening his eyes for a headcount and was slightly ashamed. Reverting back to his old sex ways was the only way to get through his new life with no drugs and no Scar.

  He let his mind go blank. Slipped into a world of sensation only. The last mental thought he let himself have was summed up in one sentence. “Remember. Everyone out when we’re done. Immediately. No exceptions.”

  He woke alone and freezing. Stretching an arm out, he felt around for the bed sheet but found no covering. When his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the suite, he discovered the bed linens on the floor.

  Right. All around him was the aftermath of exactly what he’d sworn to himself to never do again that night in Arrowhead while waiting for Ivy to leave and Scar to return to bed. Treating women like toys felt amazing—until it felt shitty.

  …sometimes it didn’t feel right… threesomes… foursomes… degrading… Ivy’s depiction of a day in the life had later come up between him and Scar. She’d asked him outright, and remembering the aversion in her eyes when she’d first arrived to his house, he’d all but denied his own orgies.

  What a lie.

  The thin sliver of light bleeding through the drapery seemed suddenly allegorical. Wasn’t his life lately one dark room with a glimpse of light here and there?

  Anxious to escape the bed and shadows of his sins, he jumped to his feet and stumbled straight to the shower before caffeine even. Soaping up, he didn’t fight the blue eyes an inch from his own, the lingering sensation of Scar’s fingers on his dick despite it being forever since. What he did fight was the mental image of her with a faceless Derrick. He’d been in hell since Logan had told him of the other man’s visit.

 

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