by Karina Bliss
“Sure.” Kayla drained her glass. “Kinda had a crush on you,” she said to Lily.
Laughing, Lily shook her head, conscious of a sudden breathlessness. “How much have you had to drink?”
“It was the way he looked at you sometimes on tour,” Kayla insisted. “And this is only my second glass.” She held it out to Dimity to refill.
Dimity ignored it. “All men looked at Stormy.”
“That’s true. You could say the odds were stacked in my favor.”
The others groaned at the pun.
“Anyway, Moss wouldn’t be interested in me, he likes—” The tough chicks. She stopped, conscious of divided loyalties. Moss’s type of woman was his business. “You know what? Maybe I will have half a glass.” She felt a little annoyed at Kayla. I don’t need this. Wondering. Her brief susceptibility to Moss was safe as long as it was one-sided. Which it was. It had been Stormy who’d drawn his gaze, not Lily.
“Kayla does make a good point though.” Frowning, Dimity refilled their champagne flutes. “You’ve always gone for the bad boy.”
“And look where it got me. Commitment and monogamy are nonnegotiable in any future relationship.” Lily wrinkled her nose to stop the champagne bubbles tickling. “And sex won’t be on the table until I get it.”
“You do realize that guys are going to read that as sex everywhere but the table.” When Kayla teased her brown eyes sparkled as mischievously as her small daughter’s.
“Okay, I’ll be more specific. Not on the table, not in a bed…” Her sense of humor resurfaced. “Sounds like a grown-up version of a Dr. Seuss book. Anyway, my new rule is: he has to be more smitten than I am.” Stormy had been an emotional doormat, Lily was keeping her heart under lock and key—with access severely restricted. “And then table sex.”
“I’m still trying to get my head around your year of celibacy,” Dimity admitted. “Have you got a good vibrator? We don’t want pent-up sexual frustration leading you to poor decisions.”
Kayla snorted into her champagne; Lily kept a straight face. “Never owned one.”
“How is that possible?” Dimity looked shocked. “I have three. They’re not getting much use right now, but I expect Seth will need a break eventually. Let me know if you want recommendations.”
Lily laughed, trying to hide her embarrassment. She’d become desensitized to frank talk, living with the nursery set. “I’m good.”
“Self-service, huh?” Dimity glanced over Lily’s shoulder and her expression cooled. “Oh, hi Moss, we’re talking vibrators. If that threatens your manhood then you might want to leave. All you dark moody rocker types like to think your mighty peens are the only thing that can make a woman’s hoo-ha happy.”
Lily squirmed. Oh God, exactly how much had he heard?
“Where do you even get these words?” Moss headed into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a jug of Lily’s homemade lemonade.
“The sisterhood,” Dimity said. “Speaking of, Lily’s just been telling us that she’s not dating until she can make better choices.”
Wildfire scorched Lily’s cheeks. “I’m sure Moss doesn’t want to—”
“She’s looking for a guy with husband and father potential.”
Moss poured himself a juice and leaned against the counter, a cynical twist to his mouth. He’d dressed for work: stonewashed brown jeans with zips and cone-stud detailing, teamed with a red shirt and a ribbed leather jacket. With his black hair gleaming under the downlights and his green eyes narrowed, he looked every inch a rock star.
What arrogance to think she could knock on his door and draw this loner into the magic circle. He didn’t need an ally. He didn’t need anybody.
“Why are you telling me this?” he challenged Dimity.
“I was wondering the same thing myself,” Lily interjected. What was it with these two today? Whatever they were fighting about shouldn’t include embarrassing her. “Dimity, you do know there’s a code of silence between girlfriends? It’s kind of an on-pain-of-death thing.”
“Friends don’t screw over friends.” Dimity continued to smile at Moss. “Got it.”
Lily gave Kayla a what-the-hell-is-going-on-with-these-two look and her friend changed the subject. “Are you going to the gig tonight? You can keep me company in the audience since I’m not allowed backstage.”
“No,” Lily said instinctively and then struggled for a logical reason.
Moss answered. “Not your world anymore, right Lily?”
“No.”
“Only until the sex tape loses traction,” Dimity reassured her, missing the point entirely. “As an employee she can fly under the press’s radar,” she explained to Kayla, “but socializing in public with the band, especially when they’re attracting media attention again, invites speculation that she’s Moss’s latest hookup.”
“Not if we’re telling everyone she’s Seth’s relative,” Kayla pointed out.
“That won’t stop Moss hitting on her…according to the press.”
“True,” Lily agreed. “I need to play it safe. Though I doubt anyone would think I’m Moss’s type anymore. Right, rock star?” Having mastered her embarrassment, she swung around to share the joke only to discover he’d left the room.
* * *
He only threw up twice, but Moss hid out in the backstage bathroom for as long as he could.
Jared was OD’ing on M&M’s, Seth was wearing a hole in the already threadbare carpet, and Dimity was still giving Moss the death stare for the way he’d looked at Lily. Seth only needed to see Moss return it and he’d be on him like Rocky on a side of swinging beef. And Moss would be really, really happy for a fight right now. A release from the tension coiling inside him whenever he thought of his driver.
“Fuck!” He hit the wall instead and the echo reverberated.
“Moss…you okay?” His homicidal manager’s tone suggested she was also torn.
Good. But he too was a professional. “All cool.” Shutting his eyes, he did his breathing exercises and visualized the stage, the set list, his performance. Reminded himself that the crowd was already predisposed to love them. The three singles had gone viral and critics were saying that if the rest of the album matched their quality, T-Minus 6 would have a hit.
After the first gig, Rolling Stone’s top music journalist had offered to feature the band. Roy’s interview and review would release on the same day as the album. The catch? They wouldn’t know whether he loved or hated it until the magazine came out. It was a big risk, but in keeping with the band’s ethos. We’re not going smaller than Rage. We’re going bigger.
Moss braced against the wall and rode out another wave of nausea. Roy was in the audience again tonight, which meant they had to keep raising the bar with every performance. The very last thing he wanted was a revival of his complicated feelings for Lily when he was building himself a new fortress of rock. These longings, pangs—whatever the fuck they were called—drained the mental energy he needed to channel into the band.
Dimity tapped on the door. “One minute.”
It still stung that she’d compared him with Travis Calvert. Moss might be a selfish son of a bitch but he didn’t prey on vulnerable women like that lowlife, who strutted around living on past glories and thinking he was special. Moss had no such illusions about himself.
And again he was thinking about the personal when he should be concentrating on the upcoming performance. Fuck! Taking a few calming breaths, he cleaned his teeth, and tried not to gag on the mouthwash Dimity had supplied. She was looking out for him, and more importantly she was looking out for Lily. Could he really resent her for that?
He opened the door. “I need a private word with my manager.”
Seth stopped pacing. Jared blanched white. “Don’t tell me you can’t go on.”
“Relax, I can go on.” Pulling Dimity into the bathroom, he shut the door. “This thing with Lily—”
“God, we’re doing this now?”
; “Now.” He wanted this sorted before he went on stage. Clear the air, clear his head.
Her steely gaze clashed with his. “You know she’s a sucker for bad boys.”
He quelled a flare of impatience. A bad boy. Yeah, that’s what I am. But they didn’t have time to argue semantics. “Point is, I have no intention of hitting on Lily. I’m not good enough for her, I get that.”
His manager frowned. “It’s not personal, Moss. I’m protecting a friend.”
“So am I.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She stared at him hard, must have seen something she could trust, because she gave a curt nod. “Can we concentrate on our jobs now?”
“Yes.”
A minute later he was meeting his bandmates in the middle of the dressing room to bump knuckles. There was a moment’s silence while they stared at each other. “Seriously?” Seth demanded explosively. “You two were supposed to have suggestions for our new mantra.” Every one of his had been shot down in flames.
“All for one, one for all?” suggested Jared. He’d been writing a new song, which was consuming his attention.
“It worked for The Three Musketeers.” Moss wondered if he was going to pass out.
Seth jabbed him with a finger. “You want to make a fucking contribution here?”
“When the student’s ready, the teacher will appear?”
A snort of laughter escaped Dimity, who was holding the door open.
Her lover glared at her. “You’ll keep.” He took a deep breath, calmed. “Fuck, let’s get this done before I turn into the Hulk.”
The three of them exchanged nods. It was enough to steady each other. On stage, Moss went directly to the right mic. The sound equipment worked. The set list flowed from the very first song. Even in music, he always held something back, retained a self-consciousness, an element of control. Tonight he found he was unable to stop emotion pouring out of him when he was behind the microphone. The longing, the need. It added an intensity to his performance that he hadn’t realized was missing. His bandmates recognized it and rose to meet the challenge.
Every great band had the ability to play the crowd. And every crowd was different. Some required coaxing to an emotional release, others expected multiple climaxes. The only rule? Deliver beyond their wildest expectations. That was Zander’s gift with Rage, and that was what they wanted for this band.
And tonight they found their magic.
They left the stage grinning at each other like idiots. Thirty minutes later they were ensconced in a nearby bar with Kayla, watching in awe as Dimity negotiated a possible talk show appearance with a hyper-excited television executive from New York who’d been at the gig.
“I got so damn lucky with that woman,” Seth said gruffly.
“I second that.” Jared lifted Kayla’s hand and kissed it before pulling her onto the dance floor to burn off the adrenaline high. The two of them set it on fire with some crazy Tarantino-inspired moves.
Seth drained his schooner of beer and stood. “I’ll get the next round.”
“Thanks, buddy.” When he was alone, Moss sent Lily a text. I’m giving you the night off driving. Go wild.
She replied a few minutes later. Yay, an early night!
You’re fucking tragic, woman.
She sent him a GIF of a cat snoring. Shaking his head, he pocketed his cell without deleting it. He was the tragic one.
“Hi, gorgeous.” Chloe wafted over, looking a million dollars, oozing glamour and sexual confidence.
An image of Lily as he’d seen her this afternoon flashed across his mind. Dressed in T-shirt and jeans, her hair damp and tangled from swimming. Real.
“Are you stalking me?” This was the third gig Chloe had attended. T-Minus 6 was definitely trending upwards.
“Yes, and you should be happy. Attracting my interest is the equivalent of a knighthood.” Sitting on his lap, she wrapped smooth arms around his neck. “I think we should hook up again.”
“Do you?” He disentangled her arms.
She pouted. “You’re not still pissy that I ignored you when Rage disbanded? Don’t be so bourgeois, baby.”
He was amused. “If that means someone who wants to be liked for himself, then it’s a fixed personality trait.”
“It means middle class, conventional.”
“Sweet of you to say, but I’m still aspiring to blue collar.”
“Then you should be even more appreciative, knowing I only stalk the A-listers. And isn’t this endorsement…” Standing, she shimmied her hands down her body, over her breasts and hips, “…better than a good review?”
He said wryly, “That depends on whether you brought a car tonight.”
“Yeah, I did. Why?”
“Nothing. No hard feelings, but I’m hanging with the band.” These guys were always ragging on him for leaving early. Tonight, he’d make an effort. Who was he kidding? Tonight he needed his friends.
“I’m here for another hour if you change your mind.”
“Okay.” But he had no intention of accepting her offer. When it came to casual sex, it was fair exchange or no exchange. Hooking up with Chloe might be balm to his ego but while Lily was on his mind, he’d only be using her. Which would make him no different from Travis Calvert.
Jared and Kayla returned to the table, red-faced and laughing, with their hands all over each other. Watching them, Moss thought, Maybe I am like Travis, a jealous bitter fuck who can’t stand seeing other people happy. Wait, since when do I even notice happy couples? Aloud he said, “Seth’s at the bar if you want to order another drink.”
“Thanks, but it’s water I need.” Kayla, all curves in a hot-pink sheath, poured herself a glass from the jug on the table. “Whoa, that’s better. Jared, I hate to be a party pooper but…”
“…the sitter is probably cursing our names. Yeah, we’ll get going.”
They said their farewells and left. Seth returned with drinks. “I’m trying to remember the last time you and I did this,” he said as he resettled. “Hung out for fun.”
“Not since you outed me for watching Downton Abbey.”
“Because you told Jared my awesome sex tip.”
Moss laughed, remembering. “Every woman has a sexual fantasy,” he quoted. “Figure out what it is and she’s yours forever.”
Seth’s gaze drifted to Dimity, still engrossed in talking business. “Mock if you want, it worked for me.”
“What was—? No, strike that.” Moss savored his bourbon. “I don’t want that picture of you two in my head.”
Seth leaned in and lowered his voice. “Think guinea pigs, coconut oil, and…” He lost it, and cracked up laughing.
“You worry me, you know that, Curran?”
“Not as much as I worry about you.” Toasting him, Seth downed his tequila shot.
“You don’t have to worry, I’m good.” Lily wanted a man capable of building a relationship that would last a lifetime. He didn’t have the aptitude, the skills, or the first fucking idea how to do that. End of.
“Are you, really?”
Moss shifted uneasily in his chair. When had this turned into a therapy session? And why did he have a momentary urge to disclose? He never showed his underbelly, even to his friends. He wanted to keep the few he had, and if they knew how fucked up he really was…
As if sensing he’d pushed too hard, Seth clapped him on the shoulder. “Dimity and I are staying at the mansion tonight. Come with us and we’ll wake up Luther for a drinking session.” Zander’s bodyguard was on leave while his boss was in New Zealand. “It’ll be like old times. And the place is big enough not to hear the guinea pig screaming my name later.”
“You’re on.” He didn’t want to sleep down the hall from Lily tonight. He downed his bourbon and stood. “My turn to get the drinks.”
He’d been confident of his talent when he’d auditioned for Rage, and had plenty of practice winning over hostile audiences in the dives he’d
played as a traveling singer-guitarist. Turned out he didn’t have the first idea how to talk about himself because no one had ever been interested before. So he’d kept his answers short and glowered a lot, instinctively defaulting to the defensive position he’d taken in his teens—playing the tough guy.
Mid-season, Zander had voted him off the reality show because he hadn’t “wanted it enough.” But only an idiot would risk all, give all. Moss couldn’t be the guy with tears in his eyes begging for the opportunity like some whiny little child. All he owned was his pride.
That didn’t stop the week that followed from being one of the worst of his life, and God knows there’d been other contenders. And then the miracle happened. An outcry and petition by female viewers caused Zander to give him another chance. When it came to survival, Moss learned fast. If women saw a bad boy, then he’d be a bad boy.
He lifted his game, smoldered to camera. Won the lead guitarist’s role in Rage. Went on tour and lived the rock-star life. Then Zander’s vocals failed, there was a scandal over lip-syncing, and Rage was done. Moss saw his big, beautiful, excessive dreams implode. But the experience taught him a valuable lesson. There were limits to what he could have.
Until Lily, he’d thought he’d made his peace with it.
Chapter Thirteen
“I don’t understand why you won’t tell me where you are,” Dee Dee whined.
“And I don’t understand why it’s so important to you.” Lily tried to leaven her refusal with humor as she exited the freeway to pick Moss up from a late-night workout. “It’s not like you’re into sending care packages, Mom.”
As a kid she’d so wished for a regular mom, one who walked her to elementary school, who attended parent/teacher meetings instead of calling them a waste of drinking time, who asked Lily about her day. Heck, she still wanted that last one. But in recent phone calls Dee Dee had become fixated on one thing.
“It’s crazy that your own mother doesn’t know where you are,” she complained.
Which means your friends are asking, Lily thought. Dee Dee couldn’t claim she’d been sworn to secrecy; her cronies knew she was incapable of keeping one. Which was exactly why Lily wasn’t telling her.