Rock Me (Jaded Ivory Book 1)

by Rebecca Brooke

  Sawyer took a seat next to me against the wall and lifted me into his lap. “Tell me, Keys. I can’t help fix if I don’t know what’s broke.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, needing his strength to deal with the demons in my head. “The man who hit on me tonight is Cole Wallace, one of the assholes who enjoyed making my life a living hell.”

  I felt every muscle under my hands lock tight and I held firm.

  “Let go, Mari. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna beat the ever-loving fuck out of him.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted at all. “It’s not worth it. You attacking him only makes us like him.”

  “No, it makes me feel better.”

  I cupped his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to keep eye contact. “Maybe, but then he wins. I’ve spent the last few years trying to get away from that; to find the strong person inside me and to love her. I’m finally there, thanks to you. I need to show him that everything they said and did had no impact on me.”

  He clenched his teeth so hard, I was surprised he didn’t crack one. “You know I really fucking hate that line of thinking.”

  I smiled at him. It was weak, yes, but it was a smile. “I know you do. But when you calm down, you’ll see I’m right. I haven’t seen him since graduation and it threw me. I needed a moment to freak out. Now I can face it head-on.”

  “Let me up, Mari.” One of my brows rose. “I’m not going to do anything, I just need to move around and burn off this energy.”

  I backed up off his lap. Apparently, he had a lot of energy because he not only pulled out his drumsticks, twirling them in his hand, but he also paced back and forth in the room. How he managed to do both and not drop them or fall over was amazing. I stood against the wall watching him.

  “Why the fuck would he come here and hit on you after all that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think he recognized me. Besides, you know as well as I do, I don’t look anything like I did when we first met.”

  Different was an understatement. Gone were the long hair and bangs. Gone was the girl who hid in bathrooms, crying. Determined not to let that girl to the surface, I stood and walked over to the small mirror, wiping away the mascara smeared under my eyes and reaching for my makeup bag to hide the pale tone to my cheeks.

  “What are you doing?”

  I glanced up from reapplying my eyeliner. Sawyer was standing in the middle of the room, staring at me in the mirror.

  “Fixing my makeup so I can go get a drink.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re actually going back out there? You know he didn’t leave, right?”

  I shrugged, trying to show that I didn’t care. It was a façade because, really, I cared more than I wanted to admit. This was the real test.

  Could I walk out there and pretend like his presence meant nothing to me?

  “Let’s just pack up and go. The agent already left for the night, we’re not gonna play again.”

  I ran the tube of red over my lips, then pressed them together for an even coat. I placed the cap on the tube and sucked in a deep, steadying breath, looking at Sawyer’s reflection.

  “I need to go out there. I have to prove I’ve put all that shit behind me.”

  Sawyer walked over and his fingers bit into the skin of my shoulders. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

  I held his gaze in the mirror. “I know I don’t need to prove anything to you. This is something I have to prove to myself. To know that I’m the strong woman I believe I am.”

  He stood there silently for a moment, then bent his head and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’re the strongest person I know. We’ll go back out there—together. If it’s too much, you give me the sign and we’ll bail and grab food and drinks somewhere else. Deal?”

  I reached up and covered his hand with mine. “Deal.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the hall. Take as much time as you need.”

  When Sawyer reached the door, I called out to him. “Thank you for always having my back.”

  He smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  The door clicked closed behind him. I reached up to wrap my fingers around the gold chain that had hung around my neck since sophomore year of high school. With everything I’d dealt with during those four years, it was a reminder of my grandmother—the one person, besides my parents, who’d believed in me. She believed in the person I would become even when I wondered if I would ever amount to anything. The jade flower wrapped in silver gave me strength when I had none of my own.

  I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

  I can do this.

  Squaring my shoulders, I opened the door and went to face my nightmare head-on. Sawyer, true to his word, was waiting for me in the hall and walked next to me all the way to the bar, not close enough that he seemed overbearing but close enough that I knew he was there to support me.

  As soon as I approached the bar, a drink was set in front of me. We’d played the Island Lounge enough that the bartenders knew what our drinks of choice were, and it was rare that we had to actually ask for what we wanted.

  I lifted the glass to my lips, using it as a cover to scan the bar for Cole. I had no intention of giving him the impression I was looking for him, or, even worse, that I actually wanted him to hit on me again. The most I hoped to accomplish was for him to get the impression I thought I was too good for him. If I came off as a bitch, so be it. That didn’t stop the butterflies from assaulting my stomach as my eyes scanned the room. It wasn’t until I reached the end of the bar that I saw him.

  The same as in high school, he stood with a bunch of roided-out meatheads. Three of the guys were laughing. A quick scan of Cole’s face and I knew they weren’t laughing with him. Most likely it was my drink in his face that had them in fits of laughter. A small part of me thought it was karmic retribution rearing its ugly head.

  Someone took the seat next to me. I glanced over to see the dragon tattoo that wrapped around Sawyer’s bicep. He’d gotten it the same time I started the set of birds on my shoulder.

  The seat on the other side of me was taken by Heath. He tipped his head toward where Cole and his friends stood. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing.” That I’m going to dwell on, I added silently.

  An annoyed grunt came from Sawyer. I knew he was still pissed, but I also knew he wouldn’t do anything unless I wanted him to.

  “Should we drag the asshole outside?”

  I laughed. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

  Heath smiled and took the beer the bartender offered him. “I think we have a really good chance of getting this deal.” He brought the beer to his lips, taking a long sip.

  “I think you’re right. The rep seemed more than happy when he left. Hopefully that means he’s trying to sell us to the label tonight.” There was slight edge to Sawyer’s voice.

  The guys knew exactly how to distract me. But now that they’d reminded me about the fact that we’d been watched tonight, the jitters I’d felt earlier over the rep wanting to hear us came back in full force. My face was warm and I knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. The guy from LiteStar Records contacted us a few weeks ago about coming to one of our performances. Someone from his office had seen one of our gigs and convinced him he needed to hear us for himself. The label was small, but it was a place we could work our way up from, or stay if we were happy there.

  I didn’t actually meet him until after the show, but he’d been easy enough to pick out in the crowd. Wearing a pair of khakis and a polo, he didn’t exactly dress like our normal fan base. After the obligatory encore, he’d come up to the stage and introduced himself as Tom Dunn of LiteStar. The admiration for our work came through loud and clear based on the excitement in his voice. Tom gave us his card and promised to be in touch at some point during the following week.

  It was time to play the waiting game. Much easier said than done.

  “After his reaction, I don’t do
ubt it. He loved every song we played.” I finished the rest of my glass and signaled the bartender to get me another one.

  My focus had been on the two men sitting beside me, but I could feel the eyes on my back. His eyes. I knew he was watching me. For what, I hadn’t a clue. There was no doubt in my mind he hadn’t figured out who I was yet and hopefully he never did. The last thing I needed was for him to come to every show trying to torture me all over again. I kept my gaze on Heath and Sawyer. Every once in a while, I’d glance up to where Monty and Jack were playing a game of pool. I didn’t care what I was looking at, as long as it was never him.

  By the end of the night I was so drunk that Sawyer had to drive me home and practically carry me through the house and into my room.

  “Oh, Keys, look at you.” He placed me on the bed and pulled the covers up over me, which was nice of him because, with the way the room was spinning, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remember how. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

  “Maybe.” I tried to wink, but ended up blinking instead.

  He placed a finger over my lips. “Get some sleep. You need it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Sawyer backed out of the room, shutting the door silently. I heard the door to his room shut directly across the hall and sighed. It was more than likely I’d regret my actions in the morning. The one thing I didn’t regret was making it through the night with no additional battle scars.

  After all, I’d faced Cole and walked away unscathed.

  And I classed that one as a win.

  CHAPTER 4

  Cole

  The sound in the bar should have been deafening. With the crowd still keyed up after the show, it was odd for such silence to fill a room. All eyes on me.

  “Everything all right?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ryan standing right behind me, a wad of napkins in his hand. He pressed them against my chest and I took them, attempting to dry off my shirt. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  “What the fuck was that all about?” His eyes were focused on the door backstage.

  “Hell if I know.” I noticed the other members of the band staring at me, but none of them moved from their spot. “I need a drink, and beer isn’t going to cut it.”

  Ryan turned. “Come on. I’ll buy you one.”

  After a few rounds of tequila shots, the guys had a good laugh at my expense. I played along, but the scene kept playing through my head because although I’d struck out once or twice over the years, I’d never had a woman throw her drink in my face. No way was I giving up. Maybe it was ego or the dry spell, who knew, but I was determined to try again.

  About a half an hour later, Mari and the drummer walked back into the bar. She took a seat at the corner farthest from us, and the bartender wasted no time putting another drink in front of her. She lifted the drink up to her lips, her rigid movements belying the look of indifference on her face. Every once in a while, she’d grip the charm that hung off her necklace and look to the sky. It was a bit unnerving to be so focused on a woman I’d only met once—who’d intentionally thrown her drink in my face—but that didn’t stop me. I was drawn to her in a way I couldn’t explain. Even more bizarre was that her looks were only part of the draw. I couldn’t put my finger on the rest.

  She avoided looking in my direction for most of the night, which didn’t give me much of a chance to try and win her over. I caught her glance over a few times when she thought she could cover it by taking a sip of her drink, but other than that, she kept her eyes focused on the drummer or the pool tables.

  The more I thought about it, there was something about the way Mari had looked at me . . .

  I just couldn’t put my finger on what.

  The more I drank, the more the nagging feeling that I was missing a giant red flag went away. By the end of the night, I’d had more than enough to drink. Ryan wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”

  “Yeah.”

  Even that came out slurred.

  Ryan walked alongside me to the car—probably to see whether I’d make it without falling flat on my face. At some point during the night, he’d switched to water. A good thing because there was no way I was getting myself home. The inside was silent as he pulled from the lot. My eyes felt heavy. All I wanted was my pillow and some sleep.

  “All right, what gives? I’ve seen you drink this much exactly one time before, when I dragged you out last spring break. You normally have one, maybe two beers. Wanna explain why you strike out with one girl and you end up shitfaced?”

  “Never exactly been turned down that spectacularly.”

  “So, drinking enough for three people is a way to boost your ego?”

  “No,” I mumbled. “It’s a way to forget tonight, then I can try again next time.”

  He snorted. “Oh, you may forget the conversation, but there is no way you’re forgetting tonight. My guess is you’ll be remembering it on repeat . . . throughout the night . . . on the bathroom floor.”

  I was too tired to argue. My eyes became heavier, the desire to sleep growing stronger with each mile we drove.

  The scent of coconut overwhelmed my senses. She was like a breath of fresh air. Comfortable in her own skin. Tattoos ran over both shoulders.

  “Where did you get your tattoos done? I’ve been looking for a good shop in the area to finish mine.”

  Gorgeous blue eyes turned toward me. Something about those eyes. She smirked and took another sip of her drink. Determined to taste her lips, I took the glass from her hand, setting it down on the bar.

  My stomach lurched. “Oh shit.”

  Ryan pulled the car to the side of the road without question. I shoved the door open, just in time for the contents of my stomach to make an appearance on the ground next to the car.

  “Jesus Christ, Cole. You couldn’t keep it down until we got home?”

  I coughed and wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. When I was sure there couldn’t be anything left, I pulled the door shut and leaned against the back of the seat.

  Ryan watched me for a minute. “Are you done? There will be no puking in my car.”

  I nodded, afraid to speak. There was no need for a repeat. Ryan was going to give me shit for weeks about this.

  He scoffed. “We tried to warn you. No one has had any luck with her.”

  Ryan pulled into the lot. My stomach rolled again and I got out of the car, stumbling up and into our apartment, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet. There couldn’t have been much left to throw up. That didn’t stop me from puking twice and dry heaving for another ten minutes or more. It seemed as if hours had passed when I eventually managed to sit up and lean against the wall.

  Ryan rolled his eyes and tossed me a clean hand towel. “Get yourself cleaned up and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I heard his bedroom door close, the noise making my head throb. I sat there, my head resting against the wall, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Each deep breath settled me a little more until I knew I wouldn’t get sick again if I stood. Forcing myself from the floor, I splashed some cold water on my face and rinsed out my mouth. When I looked into the mirror, the pale pallor of my skin combined with the red lines running all along my eyes painted a picture something closer to a horror movie than a night out with friends.

  I made my way down the hall to my room, leaning against the wall for support. Not wanting to risk any more sudden movements, I took a seat on the bed before removing my shoes and pants. My shirt was a bit more of a struggle. Eventually freeing myself from its hold, I dropped into bed. The room spun and thoughts of Mari swirled through my head.

  Fuck. What had I been thinking?

  ***

  The sensation of my heartbeat pounding inside my skull yanked me from sleep. With an effort, I cracked one eye and shut it immediately. Blinding light shone throughout the room. Apparently, in my inebriated state the night before, I forgot to close the
shades. The room, with its white walls reflecting the light of the morning sun, only served to torment me for my lack of judgment at the bar. I pulled the sheets higher. Hopefully, the muted light beneath would give me a chance to get my bearings.

  Slowly, I cracked one eye open. Then the other. The room was still bright, but it didn’t make my stomach threaten to purge itself again. I’d lost my goddamn mind last night. Getting sloppy-ass drunk wasn’t on my list of things to do. What the hell would possess me to do that to myself?

  Mari.

  Her name rang in my head louder than the jackhammer. She’d thrown her drink at me. What had I done? The same annoyance that had eaten away at me, making me drink more than my share, came back with a vengeance. Not many girls ignored me when I tried to talk to them. When it did happen, most of the time they were already in a relationship. Maybe I’d been wrong about her dating the drummer, but her freak-out still didn’t make sense. Why not just say she was taken? Why throw her drink?

  Clanging in the kitchen drew my thoughts back to the present. Ryan was up to something. With my luck, he’d probably broken my coffee maker. Heaving I sigh, I squinted, bracing myself for the light when I took the covers off my head. It had been a while since I’d drank enough for a hangover of this size.

  Eventually my eyes adjusted enough for me to chance moving and I tossed the covers off and sat up on the side of the bed.

  Nope. My stomach wasn’t done with me yet.

  I swallowed and sat as still as possible.

  Water.

  Advil.

  Grease.

  Everything I needed, and in that order.

  By the time I’d reached the kitchen, whatever Ryan had tossed into the pan had burnt to a point it was no longer recognizable as food. It looked more like a hockey puck for an NHL team.