“What? But…”
Sweeny points to the Limelight boys, and Eli’s eyes widen. “No! Those little shits!”
I can’t hold it in anymore and the laugh escapes before I can stop it. They turn on me, eyes blazing, and I hold up my hands.
“Dude, I had nothing to do with this! I swear!”
They curse again and exit the bus to properly confront the delivery guy and claim their bounty. I’m still laughing as I glance back at Holland, startled by her giant grin.
“Wait…you? No…” I whisper in disbelief.
She just shrugs. “I may have helped with the brainstorming session.”
All lingering doubts are removed when Jesse and Parker emerge to exchange a casual fist bump with Holland on their way to the door.
“Be prepared to run,” she advises them, and they give her a grin.
“We got this,” Jesse assures her. They begin their descent, and we rush to the window to watch the coming confrontation.
“Oh, sweet! Is that pizza? I’m starving!”
I had no clue musicians could run so fast.
∞∞∞
The meet and greet is particularly tiresome tonight. It’s this void in my head, normally a vacuum I can fill with whatever present is necessary for survival, but now is increasingly filled with Holland. Her smile, her music, her incredible mind, and yes, the way she feels when my hands slide over her addictive body. The way my own ignites when she claims me every chance she gets. I’m aching for her, and the constant stream of attention from women who aren’t her is becoming more than I can bear.
I don’t know how many autographs I sign, photos I take, and invitations I turn down, but it can’t be more than every other night. It’s still an eternity by comparison.
“You ok, man?” Casey asks when it looks like we’re finally about to be released for the night.
“Yeah, fine, why?”
“Um, well, for starters you almost made that one girl cry.”
My brain does a quick index but comes up with nothing. “What are you talking about? What girl?”
He seems annoyed. “I don’t know. The girl with the…the…” His emphatic hand gestures are certainly earnest, but do nothing to turn air into nouns. “I don’t know what you call those things. The old man hat.”
“Fedora?”
“Sure, whatever. That girl.”
“She was upset?” I ask, surprised. I do remember her now. Her name was Evie I think, and she wasn’t wearing a fedora, but some newsboy cap looking thing. I made a comment about it, which I feared she misinterpreted as interest when she invited me to a club later with her friends. I thought I nailed the rejection, but maybe not.
Casey shrugs. “She called you an asshole as she walked away.”
I wince. “Yeah? Well, sorry I didn’t want to go out with her friends. Or any of the other twenty offers I got. I thought I was nice about it.”
“Anyway, whatever, you just seem off right now, that’s all.”
I’m not sure what he means by “off,” since my “on” has never exactly been well-documented. But I do know I’m not interested in finding out at the moment. “I’m going to go meet Holland,” I say. “You getting Callie?”
He nods. “Yeah, I think we’re all heading into the City tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Do you know what you’re doing yet?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ll check with Callie and the guys but I’m sure Sweeny and Eli will want to hit up Neptune while we’re here. When they come up for air with those brunettes, we can ask.”
I make a face. “Really? I hate that place.”
“Lots of hot models in bikinis.”
I roll my eyes. “Exactly. Hot models in bikinis who expect to be acknowledged.”
“We don’t have to go. We can split up and do something else.”
But my brain seems to have even less interest in event planning. It was a long night and I just want to see Holland. “Whatever you want to do is fine. Just text me the details.”
I say goodbye to Casey and motion to Eli and Sweeny that I’m leaving. They nod their response, and I’m off in search of Holland. I’m hoping she’s finished up with her fans and glance at my phone to see if she’s sent any updates. There is a message, but it’s from an unknown number. I open it and my pulse starts to pick up.
You were amazing tonight. Can’t wait to meet up later. Been a while, huh.
I hope it’s a wrong number, but man, those odds are terrible.
∞∞∞
Casey was right. Eli and Sweeny have their horny little hearts set on The Neptune Club, but Casey, Callie, Holland, and I opt for the admittedly less trendy, but much classier Region 3 bar. Sure, our tabs will be identical, but at least the four of us have zero chance of being soaked by bikini-clad models grinding us on the dance floor. That’s an undisputed win in my book.
The obvious loss of the evening, however, comes in the form of Wes and Spence who also choose Region 3 over the Neptune models. This twist surprises everyone but Holland and me, and it’s everything I can do to keep the glare in my chest from spilling onto my face as I meet her at the buses to wait for the others.
“You ok?” Holland asks, slipping her arms around my waist.
“Fine,” I mutter.
She searches my eyes and sighs. “Is this about Wes going with us to the club? You know there’s absolutely no way he doesn’t go.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. The guy is ridiculous.”
“I know. But maybe it’s good.”
My gaze shoots to hers and the glint in her expression when she smiles seriously threatens my bad mood. “Good? How could being stalked by Nanny Wes possibly be good?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess this is the way I see it. I’ve had to watch you all night, the way you own that stage, basically enslave everyone else in the stadium to your will. It kind of wrecked me, Luke. You know, filled my dirty mind with a long list of wicked, vile things I want to do to you.” Her eyes slide over me, exposing her desire and releasing a violent surge of fire. “And of course, you’ve been undressing me since the moment I met you by the door. Even now, I can tell my clothes are being scattered all over this shady parking lot.” Her tone is so steady, so measured, and making me completely crazy. “So given all of that, yeah, I just don’t see any way we go to that club tonight and leave with our reputations intact without Wes. He’s saving our good names. We should be thanking him.”
She’s only making me hate him more.
I let out my breath in exasperation. “Or we could have found a private place to work through our ‘temptations.’” I slip my hand over her ass for good measure and savor her surprised gasp. She glares at me, but I suspect it’s because she liked it, not because she didn’t.
“Someone is going to see us!” she warns, swatting me away.
I grin and shrug. “If they do, I’ll let you give me a very dramatic slap. The press will love it.”
She rolls her eyes. “You would too.”
“Par for the course, darling. A necessary evil when you have an entire stadium of women lusting after you.”
“Oh, please. So now you’re going to get all cocky?”
Her grin betrays her, and I have to kiss her. I feel her everywhere inside me, my body screaming for even the slightest drop of relief. I actually curse when I catch the shadow moving toward us, preventing our last chance to release before the brutal night of forced friendship. She sees it too and quickly pulls away.
“Not sure how much longer I can do this,” I warn quietly against her ear as we resume our friend stance.
“Neither am I,” she tosses back. “But we don’t have a choice unless you’re ready for the media explosion.”
I sigh. I’m so not.
I squint toward the shadow that begins to materialize into hints. It’s clearly a woman, but not Callie. Maybe Tess? She seems too tall for Tess, though.
Oh shit, the shadow isn’t Tess. My heart just about cra
shes into my ribs.
I start screaming, wailing, and lashing out with a riot of emotions, but none manage to escape my head as I stare at the approaching figure in horror. I fear I’ll be sick, but that would be too merciful of an end to this nightmare.
“Hey, stranger,” she purrs, slinking up to us. She casts Holland a quick look, but I don’t dare to do the same. I can’t breathe. “You’re a difficult man to track down. I figured you’d wait for me.” She’s expecting a response, they both are, I’m sure, and my brain scrambles for words as my pulse thrashes against my veins. This isn’t happening. There’s no way I’m awake, or alive, or…
“Luke? Hello?” She waves her hand in front of my face which would have been rude even if she wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life.
“What are you doing here, Laurel?”
I wanted it to be belted, growled with the fire of the hell-beast chomping at my entrails, but instead it trickles out as an embarrassing drool from my numb lips. I wonder if my face is as contorted as my soul. Hers is… oh god, her demon face that has haunted me for a year and a half is now my present.
She looks surprised, then hurt. “Didn’t you get my text?”
My eyes widen. “That was you?”
“Ouch. Wow. Lost my number, I guess?”
“Luke, what is going on? Why is Laurel Karns here?” Holland asks. It’s more whimper than anger, which only makes the accusation so much worse. I turn my horrified gaze on her but can’t begin to handle the pain in her eyes when my own heart is spiraling into panic.
“I never kept your number…” I bark, focusing back on my first problem. “You need to leave.” There’s the fire. Thank god!
“Excuse me?”
I’m probably more shocked that she’s shocked. “Seriously, I don’t know why you’re here or why you contacted me but…”
“Um, you’re the one who contacted me, babe,” she shoots back, whipping out her phone.
“What?”
Hey, girl. Remember Luke? He asked me to see if you wanted to hook up when we play New York next week.
My brain shuts off. Gone. I no longer see color, hear sound.
“No…No way!” I roar, and take a step toward the building. Holland grabs my arm, and I hate that my instinctive response is to turn my fury on her. One look in her eyes, however, and the inferno simmers into something more manageable. I’ve never been tempered before. Never. But here we are. Inexplicably under control.
“Luke, what is going on?” Holland asks, searching my eyes. She should be screaming at me. Why isn’t she screaming?
“Yeah, Luke, what is going on?” Laurel echoes. “I’ve been waiting for you forever! You finally reach out and then I can’t even get past security after the show to say hello? I had to slip them just to find you now!”
“Waiting for me?” I scoff, returning to the horror show. “What the hell were you waiting for?” I know I’m gutting her but I don’t care. I need to go gut someone else right now. This is on him.
“I’m so confused! Luke, talk to me! Did you not tell Wes you wanted to see me?”
“Wes? What does Wes have to do with this?”
I hear Holland’s horrified question, but there are too many horrifying interrogations going on at the moment.
I stay focused on Laurel, incredulous. “Of course I didn’t tell him that! That was the worst night of my life! The biggest mistake of my life! I can’t even think about that night without getting sick, so, no, Laurel, I did not want to ‘hook up when we played New York!’”
Tears spring to her eyes as she absorbs my callous outburst but there are no politics left in me, no civility. The void is saturated with something else now, dripping with revulsion transformed into rage.
Laurel shakes her head. “No! Wes wouldn’t do that to me.”
“He didn’t,” I spit. “He’s doing it to me.”
“What?”
I force air into my lungs. I need this woman to remove herself from my life, preferably without a method that lands me in jail.
“Laurel, please. Please.” I’m pleading now, searching her eyes, begging her to understand that she’s collateral damage on two fronts. I can’t call her a victim, though. There is no victim in this, just the one, and she’s dead.
I don’t even look at Laurel’s face as she finally releases a frustrated curse.
“This is bullshit, Luke!” she cries, nearly matching my own disgust. “You are bullshit, you know that?”
I don’t respond, there’s no relationship to save, and turn to confront the one I can’t bear to lose.
“Holland, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with her showing up here! Please believe me. Please!” It’s amazing how quickly my fire has melted into desperation.
But she doesn’t offer much as she studies me, evaluates. “Luke, what’s going on? Why was she here? What was on her phone?”
I rip my gaze away, but my response is silenced by Wes making his way toward us with Spence. Their paths are about to intersect with a retreating Laurel, and every fiber of my being longs for her to smack him. It’ll be a good warm up for what I’m about to do.
“Ask him!” I growl, watching as Laurel unleashes her own verbal assault. He shrinks a bit from her wrath, almost stunned, which catches me off guard more than a punch would have done.
We can hear their conversation in the nearly empty parking lot, and I’m about to join them to offer my own opinions when I feel a soft hand slide into mine.
“I believe you, Luke. I do. Please don’t.”
Startled, I force myself to meet her gaze. The patience. The forgiveness. The inexplicable trust. It’s all there, rooting me by her side when every part of me wants to bash Wes’ skull into the pavement.
“Shit…” I mutter, closing my eyes. “I want to kill him, Holland. I might seriously kill him this time.”
She tugs my hand and draws me back to her. “I know, but you won’t. You know why? Because you’ve just proven you’re a better man than he is.”
I suck in a ragged breath and turn back to the scene twenty yards away. Laurel has resumed her furious stomp toward the building, leaving Wes motionless, staring at us as we stare at him. The moment the bulls decide how they’re going to slaughter each other.
It’s pretty obvious Spence would rather be anywhere else on the planet right now.
“Ok, wait, it’s not what you think!” Wes shouts, jumpstarting the showdown and moving toward us.
I shake my head, taking a step to meet him but Holland pulls me back. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” I snarl from my place.
“Look, man, just…”
“Wes, what did you do?” Holland cries as he reaches us. “Why did Laurel come after Luke?”
“I…Ok, I know…”
“He contacted Laurel and told her I wanted to meet her tonight,” I spit, turning to Holland. “That’s what was on her phone. A message from him telling her I wanted to hook up.”
“You what?!”
“Ok! I know this looks bad, Hol, I just…”
“Looks bad? It doesn’t look bad, Wes, it looks insane! What is wrong with you?!” Holland fires.
“You’re falling for him! Everyone can see that and it was the only thing I could think of to remind you what he is! Nothing else was working!”
“What he is? You don’t even know what he is! Nothing was working because you’re the one who’s blind! Luke has done everything he can to prove himself to you because he cares about me enough to do that for me. For me!” Her eyes narrow and I’m just glad I’m not on the receiving end of that fury. “And what did you prove in return? That you’re the one I should be running from!”
“Holland…”
“Stay away from me. From this point forward, we’re coworkers. Nothing more.”
“What? Holland, come on, you don’t mean that!”
“Let’s go, Luke.”
“Holland!”
He grabs her arm as we pass, and I instinctively shove
him away.
“She told you she was done. That especially means don’t touch her,” I warn.
“Stay out of it,” he returns, and I almost laugh.
“I’ve wanted nothing more since the beginning! You’re the one who keeps making it into something!”
This time there’s no doubt he swings first. I duck, but not fast enough to avoid his fist. I can’t believe I’m getting hit in the face by Wes Alton for the second time in a week. Spence is running toward us now, Holland’s shouting, but I barely notice any of it as I block his next blow and shove him back.
“You’re messed up, dude,” I mutter, trying to ignore the pulsating patch of skin swelling around my eye. Again.
I could demolish him. I know I could. Hell, his face is still a patchwork of evidence of what I can do when tested. I’ve done it a hundred times to thugs twice his size, but this isn’t about him. It’s about the woman standing behind me, and right now I know that’s not what she wants. I know that love means I have to let that be enough.
“Don’t,” I warn when he straightens and starts toward me again. “I’m serious, Wes. Just leave. Now. I’m not letting you near her.”
“Holland, please! It’s only because I care about you! You know that!”
“Coworkers, dude,” I quip, blocking his path again. “Got it?” I search his face, making sure he understands how serious I am about protecting the people I love. “One more word and you’re off the tour.”
“Fuck you,” he spits, but at least turns and starts directing his fury in the opposite direction. We watch him go in silence, and it becomes obvious Spence has no clue what to do next.
“We’ll get through this,” Holland offers gently, acknowledging her drummer’s distress as well.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” Spence admits, staring back at Wes’ shrinking silhouette. “You ok?” he asks, turning to me.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, not missing his concern.
He shakes his head. “I guess I should go check on him. You gonna have him kicked off the tour?”
I sigh and cast a quick glance at Holland. “Only if that’s what she wants.”
Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) Page 23