Lost Lyric (Found in Oblivion Book 4)

by Cari Quinn

  She was in his head. Always.

  Ryan stood on his chair and followed Michael’s wailing guitars until the room reverberated with the drums and the sax and the strings. Blending together until the instruments and the voices became a heartbeat of sound.

  The crowd took a hot second to get in on it, but they were soon on their feet, arms in the air with their lights held high. The perfect backdrop to the jamming they were doing onstage.

  Molly’s soft voice rang out in the middle of it all, with Elle doing a masterful job on backup vocals. They all harmonized and extended the end until it became more than the five-minute monster it usually was, and into an eight-minute jam. It was hella fun and totally them.

  From there, moving into the harder rocking “Delirious” seemed natural. That song was also them. Just a different side. They were still figuring out all of them.

  He was sweating his ass off for what was supposed to be a stripped-down acoustic show. Instead it had turned into an epic battle between drums and guitar, as Mal and Elle fought with each other every song. Pulling out amazing pieces amongst the standard setlist it could have been tonight.

  Molly settled back in her chair. She bent the microphone stand arm to her mouth, then untied one of the colorful scarves that she always hung on the stand as decoration. “You guys up for another cover?”

  There was a hoot and a whoop from the back.

  “Well at least that guy wants it. How about the rest of you?”

  The crowd roared and she slowly tied her scarf around her head. “Now, if you don’t know this one, you’re dead inside.”

  The crowd laughed.

  Molly brushed her hair over her shoulder and fit the scarf lower on her forehead until it touched her eyebrows. “I think this is right?” She turned to look at Jules and pursed her lips. “Close?”

  Jules leaned into her mic. “I don’t think you’re packing enough to be Bret, but you’ll do.”

  A girl from the back let out a scream.

  Molly laughed. “So, you might know what song we’re doing?” Her voice went husky and low. “‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn’, ladies and gentlemen.”

  The acoustic guitars blended until the stage became a wall of sound. The house lights went up slowly and Ryan took the moment to search the crowd. He tried not to get his hopes up.

  But there in the back, along the wall, was a familiar shadow. Her hair was down and she was wearing a ball cap, but he knew it was Denver. Knew it because his chest tightened and skin tingled.

  The air charged as her brown eyes met his across the room. The place was small enough for him to actually see the play of lights and darks across her face.

  Her lips parted and she lowered her head before sneaking one more look at him. His cock hardened and he was glad to have the doubleneck acoustic in his lap to hide the evidence.

  As Molly finished the first verse and the band sang the chorus, Ryan pulled the microphone down to his mouth.

  He’d never be the singer Molly was, but he could hold his own. He extended the “yeah, it does,” as Bret did in the infamous Unplugged version. He’d played the song a million times.

  His fingers knew the notes and chords as surely as he knew his own music. This time, he sung the lyrics to her.

  They had plenty of scars between them. Long nights and stories in the dark made for a foundation he’d never shared with another woman. He hoped this song would tell her everything he didn’t know how to fully express yet.

  When Ryan looked up again, she was gone.

  His gut tightened and his fingers shook a little, but then he noticed her settling into a seat and he found a full breath for the first time in days.

  Fuck, yeah.

  He grinned over at Molly as she finished the song and the audience all rose to their feet. They were killing it tonight.

  The band took the crowd’s excitement—and their own—into the next five songs.

  They played a two-hour set and they were all dripping by the time they got to their hit single, “Goodbye”.

  Ryan pulled out his violin and crossed to West so they could play back to back. Molly stalked up and down the stage, her vocals soaring for the rafters. Jules and Elle flanked Mal’s kit, and Michael played front and center as they came together for one hell of a glorious finale.

  Nothing could be sweeter than this.

  There was a magic to the night, the atmosphere, the crowd, and the band. A moment that every band longed for, and chased like the devil was on their heels.

  For one brief moment, they let it all in and found stage nirvana. They didn’t question it and sure as shit didn’t analyze it.

  Warning Sign took the night and owned it. And went to the front of the stage as a unit when the house lights went up. He linked hands with Jules on his right and West on his left as they bowed, then waved.

  They ran offstage and into the cooler, quieter darkness backstage.

  West and Michael looped an arm around each other’s necks and dragged him in for a trio hug. Ryan nailed West in the ribs with a fist when he tried to give him a damn noogie like when they were in college.

  It was nice to hear laughter and banter instead of Molly’s critique on a show. There was nothing that could take away from their performance.

  “It would be better with a sixth. The pot is sweeter.”

  Ryan’s internal sensor went on alert. His head swiveled at the older man’s voice. Not one of their normal roadies, since it was a stripped-down show. This guy worked for the venue itself.

  “Go on, I’ll catch up,” Ryan said to West.

  West frowned. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Ryan nodded to the end of the hallway. “Lauren’s got that look in her eyes.”

  West’s attention was instantly on his girl. Man, to have that. A gnawing of something burned in Ryan’s gut. Longing? No. Hell, maybe. He didn’t know what it was like to really pine for a woman.

  Until now. And it fucking sucked.

  What was even worse was owing a friend. Owing Denver, of all people. All he needed was one good night and he could get flush again.

  He changed course. “You guys getting a game together?”

  The older guy gave him a long look before shrugging. “We’re happy to take your money, buddy.”

  “Where’s it going to be?”

  “What’s your number?”

  Ryan rattled it off.

  The man’s stubby fingers flew over his screen and he nodded. “We’ll text you with a location.”

  “Hey, thanks, man.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  Jules and Molly came down the hallway and Ryan gave the man a salute before he fell into step behind them.

  That burning in his gut was climbing higher now, sneaking into his chest. It was either heartburn or he was on the verge of making another decision.

  Good or bad remained to be seen.

  Chapter Six

  A while later, Ryan broke away from the party backstage long enough to make his way to the lockers. He needed a shower badly, but that would have to wait.

  As would deciding how to handle the text he’d received. One location of a poker game, coming up.

  It was his own fault for asking that older guy for info. Wanting to make a clean break from bad habits didn’t change that he owed Denver for his rent. Shit, he even owed her for leaving behind fucking pocket money after she’d fucked him senseless. Or vice versa.

  That might have been a mutual fucked senseless in that case.

  All he needed from her was her sweet-as-hell body and her laughter and her. Just her.

  Money he was used to doing without. Being in a successful band should’ve changed that, but they were still on their way up and he’d gotten in too deep.

  It happened. Lots of things did, most of them unplanned. Including sleeping with his best friend and hearing her say she didn’t want it to happen again.

  But he was trying not to focus on that anymore. She’d come to the show and sh
e’d stayed for a while. That was the part he was going to think about for a while.

  He reached behind his head and yanked off his sweat-soaked shirt. He dumped it in his duffel and grabbed a clean Godsmack one, tugging it on just as West appeared in his line of sight. His buddy smacked the locker beside Ryan’s and let out a howl of laughter. “Fucking awesome, right?”

  “So says the guy who’s got a pretty girlfriend ready to show her appreciation for your latest display of insanity. Though after the way you rushed off to see her, I figured you’d be humping in a closet by now.” Ryan thumped his friend in the gut and bent to grab a fresh pair of socks and a clean pair of jeans. He’d sweat through everything.

  “Discretion, dude. We have some now and then.” West tapped his head on the locker door and looked over Ryan’s shoulder to where Lauren was probably standing with everyone else. The pining expression the guy wore was a strong clue. “She’s amazing, just like we were tonight. Finally, we’re coming together, man. The whole group is just…” He flexed his fingers and fisted them. “Gelling.”

  Ryan grunted in agreement. West wasn’t wrong. With every show, they were more in sync.

  However, he didn’t have a long night of sex waiting for him back at the hotel as West surely would, so his own mood wasn’t quite as cheery.

  Also, he was a bitter dickhead who was jealous of his best friends getting all happily coupled up when he hadn’t even thought he minded being single. And he hadn’t.

  Until fucking Denver.

  It wasn’t the single part that was sticking at him. It was the not getting to touch her again. Not getting to hear her moans or her sighs or watching as she let go of the control she wore as armor. As she’d trusted him to know what she’d needed and to deliver it. That was new, all so new, but if she’d just given them a chance, they could’ve—

  What? What could they have done? Two defiantly single people who’d been friends for a while—the best of friends—and lived on a bus that grew no roots. So they could fuck and travel around together and be happy. That obviously wasn’t a consideration. Because he’d fucked up by following his ego into that back room and getting into trouble. Gambling wasn’t a dirty little secret. It had just been the first thing to make him feel something in a damn long time.

  Something to mask the needs that had been steadily growing for Denver. Opening that Pandora’s box had certainly made that clear. Because he sure as hell didn’t want to walk away from more of her—of them.

  “We’re doing good,” Ryan muttered, affixing a smile on his face since West was waiting for some sort of reply. His normally good-spirited buddy was wandering among the clouds lately, and if he sensed even the slightest weakness in Ryan, he’d pounce.

  “You okay? You seem off, man.”

  Yep, there it was. The “I’m in love and fucking like a rabbit on speed and you’re not” smile of halfhearted concern. “Doing great.” Ryan shucked his sneakers and swapped his socks and jeans for the clean ones, then pulled back on his sneakers. He tossed the dirty clothes in his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. “Couldn’t be better.”

  “You sure about that?” West fell into step beside him as he headed over to the refreshments table to grab a soda. Others in his band were already into the beer, but Ryan wasn’t looking to get drunk. It would be too easy to fall into a vat of liquor and not climb out until he didn’t remember Denver giving him the brush-off.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Ryan popped the top on a Mountain Dew and then cursed before he’d taken the first sip. Of course. Denver’s choice for a caffeine fix during the conversation where she’d decided to drive a skewer into his ribs.

  He tossed back half the can in one swallow. Still hadn’t deflated his dick in her direction though. Far from it.

  “Just, you know, everything’s changed with us. The three of us. Aw, hell.” West scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “Just stuff’s different now.”

  “Always eloquent, pal.” Ryan shook his head. “You’re good?”

  “Yeah.” West inclined his chin in Lauren’s direction. “Really good. You know Lo. She’s incredible.”

  “Yes, she is. So maybe you should be celebrating with her instead of dick-dogging me.”

  West’s brow furrowed as he dipped his head. His hair was growing back after his impromptu decision to go bald onstage a few months ago, and he had a blond, spiky thing going on. “Don’t even know what that means, but I’m definitely not on your dick. In your dreams.”

  “I’ll pass. Just saying, don’t worry I’m not getting any. It’s all good in that arena.”

  “There’s more to life than sex.” West’s brows lifted. “Holy shit, did I just say that?” He patted his chest as if he were checking to see if he was still in one piece. “Damn. I better have a drink before I start spouting poetry or something.”

  Ryan laughed and shoved him toward the other end of the refreshments table. “You just do that.”

  He was still laughing as he turned around to tell Lauren that her dude needed some help finding his man card. But before his gaze landed on Lauren, his phone went off again. Without looking, he knew who it was. The older guy who’d texted him about the game. It would be starting before long.

  Time to put up or shut up.

  “Party people, I have an idea,” West called out.

  Ryan groaned with everyone else as he cupped his phone in his pocket. He’d deal with it soon enough.

  West moved toward Lo, beer in hand, and stepped between her and Jules. He glanced over his shoulder as a flash of brown hair moved into Ryan’s eye line. “Hey there, Denver. Join the fun. We’re just about to move this thing somewhere else. Assuming everyone is on board.” He waggled his brows at Lo, who tipped her head back at him quizzically. He bent down to whisper in her ear and she clapped like a kid about to get in line for a new toy.

  New toys plural, it turned out.

  “There’s a new shop just up the block from this place. Called The Velvet Vault. I’ll give you a couple guesses what vault they’re talking about, and it ain’t belonging to a bank.” West smirked and stroked a hand down his girlfriend’s shoulder. “I think we should check it out. The place is supposed to be super classy.”

  “Who told you that?” Jules asked, letting out a snort.

  “Your boyfriend, actually,” West tossed back. “One of them.”

  The boyfriend West was referring to had to be Randy, since he was the head of the lighting staff and often traveled with the band. He’d just joined up with them tonight since this was a stripped-down segment of the tour and he’d had other work on the west coast. The other guy in their committed threesome, Tristan, was home running his restaurant in LA.

  “Oh. Hmm.” Juliet pursed her lips. “Is that so?”

  “It’s so. He said he was going to take you there after the set. So I figured we should all go. Make a field trip of it.”

  “Yeah, sure, make a field trip of it so you rub it into the faces of those of us flying solo while we’re in New York. Nice work, asshole.” Michael thumped West on the back and he shrugged.

  “Sorry. Sucks to be you, Mikey boy. Get a cock ring and FaceTime your wife. We don’t judge.”

  Laughter broke out around them, and even Ryan had to grin at the obvious light that popped into Michael’s eyes. West had clearly given him ideas.

  Lucky fuckers, the whole bunch of them. Well, half the band anyway. Some of their membership were very much members of the woman-of-the-night club. Like Mal, who was tossing back a beer and staring at the phone in his hand, as if he didn’t care one iota what West was proposing now.

  Ryan fought the urge to step to the left to catch Denver’s eyes. Surely she’d disappear, as she did so naturally. She wouldn’t want to go to a sex shop with the rest of the band, even if she did like to hang out with everyone when she could. But a shop where the express purpose was to enjoy sex when she’d put the kibosh on them doing that again…yeah, not gonna happen.

&nb
sp; “That sounds fun,” Denver said, slipping her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

  Ryan squinted in her direction, but she stepped behind Lauren and out of his view before their gazes connected.

  Damn woman. Always would do anything to be contrary.

  Or it could be she just liked toys, which really wasn’t helping him to remember he was pissed at her. Imagining Denver on her back, her golden thighs spread, a vibrator in her hand, teasing her sweet pussy—

  Fuck. Yeah, he just wasn’t going to think about that any longer.

  “A sex shop? Seriously?” Molly examined her manicure and let out a sigh.

  “They have lingerie too, if it’s the place Sparks mentioned,” Jules said, referring to her boyfriend.

  “Maybe they’d have a toy that could help you get the stick out from your ass,” Mal offered, throwing up a middle finger of his own when Molly flashed him one without turning around.

  “Hmm. The lingerie at some backstreet adult shop is probably on the lower end.”

  Jules shook her head. “No, this is a decent place. They’re mostly known for their online shopping experience. All exclusive products, classy setup. There’s only a couple of actual stores in the whole nation.”

  “Yay.” Mal did a fist pump. “Just what I’m thinking about when I wanna fuck. Class.”

  “No, a toilet seat is good enough for you most times, isn’t it?” Elle asked sweetly, snagging a water bottle as she joined the group. She’d lost her boyfriend hookup somewhere along the way.

  Her new dude was probably sleeping it off somewhere. The guy seemed to always have a drink in his hand. Ryan wasn’t sure what Elle was even doing with him. He’d heard she’d had a wild past, but it was hard for him to equate the easygoing, low-key woman he knew with someone who’d partied hard.

  Then again, loneliness accounted for a lot of crazy decisions. Maybe Elle had just hooked up with the guy to kill some time on the road. There were worse ways to do it.

  Maybe that was even why he and Denver had—

  No. Fuck no. Not even close. Proximity and a night on their own might have hastened things along, but if she hadn’t known that in some way they’d been headed to that place all along, she was nuts. Or he was nuts for being pissed she wasn’t onboard with something so obviously right.