by Cari Quinn
Porn was a wondrous thing. Yet another item on her experience list West had introduced her to. And the good stuff. Premium subscription.
She shifted, rubbing her thighs together in her tight jeans. Being a rockstar had its perks. So did being a rockstar’s girl.
Even if it was just a brief interlude of awesome. She’d still belonged to someone, and it had been the best experience of her life.
He was the best experience of her life. All that crazy hair, those sea-colored eyes, and a smile that set her body on fire and her heart aglow every time she saw it. The way he touched her so gently until she gave him that wordless signal to bump things up a notch. A pop on the ass, a tug on her ponytail. She loved those things, and he gave them to her without judgment.
But he was just as good at cuddling in the morning. Wrapping her up in his strong arms and nuzzling her cheek as they tangled their legs together and talked about what new thing they’d decided to do that day. From seeing the sights to new positions to just chilling with his friends with her at his side. It was all equally wonderful.
In the midst of all of it, she kept getting texts from Ethan, usually of the apologetic variety. They were talking, albeit in short bursts. She didn’t really know what to say to him now. Especially when he asked when she was coming home.
As in to their place.
She didn’t know how to tell him that her home wasn’t there anymore. Never really had been. She appreciated his generosity in her time of need so much and would never be able to repay him for it. Absolutely, she missed talking to him and laughing with him and she wanted more than anything for their friendship to go back to normal.
But as for home?
Home was already with that crazy, sexy man jumping on stage as Molly glided out and introduced her band. Tonight’s set would be a short one, as there were a few other acts scheduled to perform as well. The event was a benefit for Love and Paws, as well as several other charities that had been picked by the performing acts.
She smiled at West, hoping he could see her where they were stationed near the front. Big Dude was obstructing her view, so she held up the rocker sign she’d recently learned and screamed West’s name with what felt like thousands of other fans. In truth, the club was jammed wall to wall, but that meant under one thousand people. Way under. The charity event had packed the place though, and the shaving booth for Wigs for Kids that was prominently featured near the stage already had a long line. The foot traffic didn’t slow even as Warning Sign launched into their setlist, starting off the night with “All Night Long”.
Lauren grinned and grabbed Tristan’s arm on one side of her and Denver’s on the other. She was pretty sure they both thought she was a little nuts, but they grinned back and humored her.
She had a sort of squad now, whatever that actually was. For the first time in her life, she had honest to God pals. Ones other than Ethan and girls stuck rooming with her at boarding school or the people she knew for a short time at her random jobs.
Genuine friends.
She sang along to the lyrics about needing just one more night, unabashedly raising her voice with the others. Only recently had she learned this song was one of West’s creations. So insanely fitting for their situation, though he’d written it years ago. Back in high school, she was pretty sure. Now it was one of their biggest hits.
And he didn’t think he was worth much. The guy was crazy. Downright insane. She grinned and yelled as West slammed on the keys, circling his head like a maniac so that all his wavy long hair flew around like a golden nimbus. Lighting him up.
Lighting her up, since she was insanely in love with the guy and didn’t care who knew it.
Well, okay, so she hadn’t told him yet. But soon. She just didn’t want to use her feelings as strings. More like ribbons that just made the good shit even better.
Right now? Everything was good.
She clasped her hands to her chest and jumped with Denver, who was shouting for all of them, but Ryan most of all. Her closest friend in the band. West’s best friend too.
Lauren wished he’d been around the past week so she could get to know him better. His vanishing acts made West uneasy, not that West ever shared much on that score. She wanted to get to know Michael better too, who’d been dealing with his heavily pregnant wife and their little boy. His stepson, if she understood correctly. Chloe, Michael’s wife, was just about to pop. She was so gorgeous, and God, her pregnancy glow was off the charts.
It made Lauren a little wistful. Not that kids were anywhere in her sphere for quite some time yet, but she definitely wanted some in the future. Maybe not as far off as she’d once thought.
Seeing Michael and Chloe make it work was definitely giving her ideas. Not only about children. About making a life too, whatever that life happened to look like. Michael was doing the band thing and still had a thriving personal relationship.
It was possible. Everything was.
Her rose-colored glasses about love extended to West’s friends as well. Since Ry and Michael were important to West, they were important to her too. Just like Juliet was and the rest of West’s band. Lauren touched the streak of pink in her hair, courtesy of her new friends. Jules was awesome, and she’d taken her under her wing. Elle too.
Molly not so much, but even Warning Sign’s ice princess appeared to be melting a little in her direction.
Everything was coming together. She hoped. Now she just had to tell West the decision she’d made not to go back to school and let the keys fall where they may.
No matter what happened with him, she wasn’t meant for the rigors of higher education. Truth be told, she still wasn’t fully sure what she was meant for. She loved kids and pets, she knew that much. If that meant volunteering while she worked at crap jobs to keep body and soul together, then that was just what she’d do.
The sky was the limit. It would be hard, and she still had lots of decisions to make, but she knew where her compass was pointed.
Telling her parents wouldn’t be easy. Staying the course definitely wouldn’t be either, not when it was so much easier to retreat to the safety of their secure, boring, loveless life. But she couldn’t live like that anymore. She’d known too much else now. Experienced a lifetime in just a couple short weeks.
Ethan was still going to be a part of her future, she hoped. She wanted to make things right between them, and she’d do everything she could to ensure that happened. But she wasn’t going to move back in with him if she could find any other way, and she wasn’t going to run home to mommy and daddy.
She was going to stand on her own. Hopefully, with West right by her side.
West shouted something on stage, catching her attention. “Who’s ready to get fucking lit?” He yelled into the crowd, toasting them with what looked like a bottle.
Lauren frowned. He was drinking onstage? That was new. Maybe he was just in a partying mood like the rest of them and trying to fire up the crowd. Not that he needed to do much. Everyone was jumping on all sides of them as Michael and Elle jammed out to “Cascade” and Molly sashayed back and forth, scarves trailing behind her like banners. Mal banged on the drums and Jules kept time with her bass, dancing in place beside Michael as she aimed a smile of pure feminine pleasure out into the audience.
A quick glance at Tristan and his equally besotted smile back and Lauren sighed a little. She was seeing love everywhere around her lately. She’d met Randy—called Sparks—the head lighting tech, who happened to be Jules’s other guy. He was great too. Somehow they were making an unconventional relationship work.
Surely she and West could too. One way or another.
He was banging on the keys one-handed while he tossed back his drink with the other. She wasn’t close enough to see how much was left in the bottle, but from his focus on it, the alcohol had to be disappearing fast.
She rubbed her sweating mostly full bottle of beer against her throat. He’d seemed a little distracted before the show, but she’d figu
red he was just focusing on his set. It wasn’t as if she knew much about his pre-show routines yet. They were so new. But maybe something was on his mind. She couldn’t quite separate crazy, show West from out-of-control West. His act sometimes veered toward the wild, and she enjoyed that about him too.
But not when he finished his beer and sent the bottle flying across the stage into a receptacle, nearly taking out Molly in the process. He laughed like a loon, but she did not. He jogged up to her and leaned in close, saying something that erased the annoyance from her face. An apology, probably. West didn’t mean to scare her. He could get a little crazy onstage, but he wasn’t reckless.
At least he wasn’t normally.
Molly’s irritation had just seemed to abate when West grabbed her mic stand. “I think I should buy some of you a beer. Whaddaya say? I think we need to tear this place up. Get this party going in a big way. Bet a few drinks would do that, right?” He yanked his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wad of bills, tossing them at the audience. Shrieks rang out as people scrambled forward, barely contained by the burly security guards who were shouting things at West.
But he wasn’t listening. He grabbed hold of the microphone again as Michael and Elle exchanged glances and kept right on jamming out, doing an extended mix of “Cascade” so the place didn’t plunge into silence.
No chance of that happening. The crowd was on fire.
West pointed at someone just off to the side of the stage. “C’mon up, John. Think we should do that shit now before I get my ass hauled off by security. Can’t even have a good time anymore.” He slung an arm around Molly, who looked at him as if he was deranged. “Tonight, we’re here for a special purpose. This isn’t just about us, you know. Music is important, but it’s not fucking everything. People are what count. Without them, the rest is just goddamn noise. Right, Mol?” He kissed her hard on the side of the head and she laughed uneasily.
A tickle teased the back of Lauren’s throat. He’d be hearing an earful later from their lead singer, she was sure.
If they even got through the set.
“We’re here to support all these freaking amazing charities tonight. So many worthwhile ones, and there’s just not enough money to go around to support them. We have to do more. Have to make sure our pets and our people are taken care of. It’s our only purpose on this fucking planet, and if we can’t even do that, what good are we?”
The audience yelled back in agreement, lifting their fists in the air.
Tristan, Lauren, and Denver just exchanged glances. Lauren was the newbie in the group, but already she felt like she knew West so well. And despite his incredible, necessary message, something felt very wrong.
That tickle in the back of her throat was about to choke her.
“This is John from Wigs for Kids, one of the kickass charities we’re donating proceeds from these shows to. You’re supporting them by supporting us, so thank you so much. But I think we should kick it up a notch.” West let go of Molly to jog back to the keyboard to grab another beer that had materialized out of nowhere. He took a long drink, slammed down the bottle, then grinned and raised his hands into fists high above his head. “Time to lose this fucking hair!”
John approached West with what appeared to be a pair of clippers.
Holy shit.
Lauren gasped and Denver clutched her arm. “Did you know he was going to do this?”
Stunned, Lauren could only shake her head. “I had no idea.”
But it was already happening. The buzz somehow sounded through the place as West’s glorious blond hair fell to the stage in big clumps. The entire time, he was grinning. He held up his bottle and seemed to look right at Lauren.
“Sorry for the surprise, baby, but you can get a handful of another part of me instead,” he yelled out, making Lauren’s cheeks blaze with heat.
And not from amusement either.
It wasn’t even what he’d said or what he was doing. It was the way he was doing it. For fuck’s sake, his voice sounded a little slurred. Had he had that much to drink already? He definitely hadn’t seemed drunk before his set, just a short time ago.
Just tense.
She should have asked questions, not written it off as normal pre-show jitters. Because the fact was she didn’t know what his normal routine was like.
There was still so much she didn’t know. She’d thought they had plenty of time to figure it all out. To figure each other out. But maybe she’d missed something vital. He was obviously upset, and she didn’t know why.
Clearly, it had to be something big if he was shaving his damn head.
And he hadn’t told her. Hadn’t said a word.
She gripped her bottle in boneless fingers as John finished up his unholy task and held up several handfuls of West’s gorgeous hair. “Thank you, Weston, for such an incredible donation for kids! We hope some of you visit us in our booth too and do the same.”
West patted John on the back and ran his hand over his new buzz cut. He looked completely different. Harder. She didn’t doubt that if she was close enough to see his eyes, that irrepressible glow from within wouldn’t be there.
Something had happened, and it wasn’t just a yen to change his hair. And now Denver and Tristan kept sliding her little looks, the kind that warned her to be on guard. She’d thought maybe she and West were on their way to their first fight if he wouldn’t admit what was going on with him, but Denver’s expression said something else entirely.
Lauren was amazed Denver didn’t hold up a sign that said it’s been nice knowing you because that was definitely the vibe she was picking up. It could’ve been paranoia. Lord knows she had plenty, and for good reason. She was still such a newbie to this scene. So unsophisticated when it came to understanding all the subtle rhythms between men and women.
But she’d thought they were doing okay. Better than.
Maybe she’d been wrong.
Somehow she managed to hold her ground until the set ended. The next band came on, and she barely even made it through half of the first song before she murmured apologies to Denver and Tristan and pushed her way through the crowd. She had to get back to West.
She stumbled down hallways clogged with people, flashing her pass as she went. She’d felt so special wearing it around her neck. Now she wanted to tear it off.
The anger brewing inside her felt foreign. Of course she was worried about him too. That was the most potent emotion of all, going way down deep. She was scared for him in her bones, even though she didn’t quite know why. But so much of this thing between them had required operating on instinct and emotion, and this was no different.
She was pissed at him, and she couldn’t even delineate all the reasons. Sure, he’d kind of hijacked a charity concert, but he’d more than made up for it by donating his hair.
His beautiful hair.
She wasn’t mad at him for that. That was a kind gesture, and his own to make to boot. But she was angry he hadn’t confided in her that something was bothering him before he took that emotion with him into his concert.
Angry at herself for feeling like not enough, again. She was just starting to bury that emotion. To focus on her positive qualities rather than what she lacked.
Now she was questioning herself again, wondering if maybe West hadn’t told her what was going on because she was part of the problem. Maybe she’d been seeing things the way she wanted to. Just because a guy liked the sex didn’t mean he wanted to be with her long-term. That was just reality.
So much for not becoming that cliché of falling in love with the first guy she slept with.
Good one, Lo.
She turned the corner and saw West retreating down the hall into what she assumed was a green room.
“West,” she called out.
He stopped as if there was no one else around despite the people streaming around them in all directions. He dropped his backpack and turned, not facing her. Facing the wall.
&n
bsp; She rushed up to him and instead of demanding answers as she’d intended, she followed instinct one more time. She wrapped her arms around him, cupping his newly shorn head in her hand. The prickle against her palm felt so much different than his flowing locks. But otherwise, he was the same. So much the same that her heart stampeded in her chest and she cleaved to him, desperate for the feel of his sweat on her skin. He was soaked and she should be too.
His mouth found hers, his tongue driving deep. “Need you,” he whispered, and she couldn’t nod fast enough.
She didn’t care how or why. All she cared about was that he was inside her again, filling her up. Chasing away the fear and the demons that were riding him. Riding her too as surely as if they were her own.
Because if he was hurting, she was too. It didn’t matter why. His pain was hers.
He hitched her up onto his hips, and she wound her legs and arms around him, holding on as he carried her into an alcove. People were right on the other side of the wall. She could see them out of the corner of her eye, for pity’s sake. If she leaned forward, they would be able to take a good long look. But West was shielding her, crowding her body into the wall, his broad shoulders hiding most of what was happening as he jerked down his zipper with one hand and streaked his mouth down her throat, licking and biting.
Leaving marks again for everyone to see.
She should be embarrassed. She wasn’t. Not because she was checking off another box on her bucket list—semi-public sex achieved.
This wasn’t about that. This was about being whatever he needed right now, because she needed too. Just as much. She wanted to be his port in the storm, in whatever form that took.
He jockeyed her against the wall, mumbling apologies she didn’t need. She cupped his head, rocking against him, urging him on. He dragged down her shirt, revealing the top of her breast, and he latched his mouth onto her flesh, sucking hard. She cried out and banged her head, seeing stars for a whole new reason other than the usual. But he was already on the move, tugging down the cup of her bra too, exposing her full breast and already tight nipple. He slipped it between his teeth, grazing the tip, and she arched, already desperate for more friction between her legs.