by Eden Summers
“No.” She continued down the hall. “It’s the same as usual. The last thing we need is more people back here.”
“Some are adamant.”
“I don’t care. If they don’t have a pass, they don’t get backstage.”
“Roger that.”
She stopped outside the Reckless dressing room and tapped her knuckles against the wood before letting herself in. They were immersed in laughter as she entered, all their faces alight, the flashes of teeth, dimples and smirks unwavering as they turned their attention to her.
“Evenin’, Cruella.” Mason stood beside the refreshment table, a bottle of water in his hand.
The rest of them were lounging in different positions. Mitch was seated on a backward wooden chair. Sean was laying on the sofa. Blake had a hip cocked against the armrest. And Ryan… He was in the far corner of the room, leaning against the dressing table counter.
She didn’t meet his gaze. Couldn’t. Not tonight.
“Are you all ready?” They stared at her and smiled from an unknown high she hoped wasn’t drug related. “Why do you all look overly excited?”
“’Cause it’s an exciting kind of night,” Mitch drawled.
Sean sat up and pulled a pair of drumsticks from his back pocket to twirl in his fingers. “You look nervous.”
Good. Exuding nervousness was better than the heartbreak she was trying to hide. “Once tonight is over, I’ll be fine.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Blake muttered.
Mitch snorted.
She made a mental note to retaliate in the near future. “Do you all remember the drill for tonight?”
“Yep.” Mason took a gulp from a water bottle and nodded. “Do whatever it takes to encourage downloads. Exchange sales for posters. Offer to sing more songs. Sell off sexual favors.”
“I think you can hold off on the sex.” Sean continued to twirl his sticks. “We don’t want people demanding their money back.”
“For once, can we please take this seriously?” She sighed. “We’ve got a lot riding on the success of tonight’s show.”
“Don’t fret.” Mason smirked. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to ensure Slicker’s spot on a chart.”
“A few tricks?” His involvement in the business side of things was never good. The arrogance he expelled always burned bridges she had to mend. More work. More unease. “What have you done?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mason.” She was living on exacerbated hormones, little sleep, and a lack of sustenance because stress continued to make her nauseated. And he thought taunting her was a good idea? “If you don’t quit increasing my anxiety, this magician is going to pull your lungs out of your ass, and I’m more than happy to reveal how I plan to do it.”
Mitch snickered.
Sean chuckled.
Ryan cleared his throat.
“Point taken.” Mason took two steps and slumped into a seat, a grin fighting to break free from the corner of his lips.
Why were they all sporting jovial moods? Usually they were in the zone before a show. Focused and stoic. They had to be up to something. Or on something.
A shout of “five minutes” came from the hall and the men began to move. Sean stood. Mason made for the bathroom. Mitch and Blake headed for the refreshment table and grabbed bottles of water. The only one who didn’t budge was Ryan. He remained in her periphery. A solid rock in a flowing stream.
“Can I talk to you?”
She pretended he wasn’t addressing her.
“Leah,” he murmured, his voice barely heard over the flushing toilet from the bathroom.
She played with her ear-piece and ignored her panic as Blake and Mitch walked into the hall.
“Leah,” he repeated, this time louder.
Reluctantly, she met his gaze and held her breath through the pain of it. Every time their eyes met her entire body reacted—heart, mind—even her soul.
“Can you come over here for a minute?”
She remained in place, unwilling to move. “What’s up?”
His lips quirked. “Come here.” There was a demand in his voice now, the subtlest insistence she couldn’t deny.
She sighed, trying to simulate frustration when her throat was closing from yearning, and strode toward him. “Is something wrong?”
From the corner of her eye, she watched Sean leave the room. Then Mason was heading for the door, about to leave them in dangerous solitude.
“Good luck, Ry.”
Good luck? She shot a frantic glance to Mason as he reached for the door handle. All he did was laugh before escaping. Shit. They were definitely up to something.
She paused a few feet from Ryan’s position against the counter and met her reflection in the mirror behind him. She looked calm. Almost in control. Until he lunged for her, one arm weaving around her waist to pull her into his position against the counter.
She froze, every muscle tight.
“Ryan.” She poised to push away from him, her palms on his muscled chest, her heart gagging her throat.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Can you tell me while we’re not touching?” She tried to laugh off the situation and failed when it came out as a whimper.
“No. I need your full focus.”
“Well, you’ve certainly got it.”
That grin continued to beam back at her, a tiny glimmer of wickedness shining around the rough appeal of his short beard. “I wanted to tell you I’m calling Julie after the show.”
“OK…” She swallowed.
“I’m letting her know there’s no chance I’m moving back in with her.”
“OK…” She swallowed again.
“What I’m not going to tell her, is that from now on, I’ll be with you.” Those eyes gleamed at her, honest and true. Their depths filled with unwarranted confidence.
“Ryan…” Her ear-piece crackled and one of the security guards spoke her name. She pressed the talk-back button and tilted her face from Ryan’s. “What is it?”
“I’m still having problems with a woman demanding to get backstage. I’m not sure if I should have her removed from the premises.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” She yanked the ear-piece out and let it hang over her shoulder. “I need to go.”
“Wait.” Ryan wiped a stray strand of hair from her cheek, his fingertips inspiring tingles all the way down her neck. “I love you, Leah. There’s no point wasting more of our time trying to find excuses. We need to make this work, no matter what it takes.” He edged closer, their noses a mere inch apart, their breath mingling. “We snuck around before. We can do it again.”
There was a loud knock on the door followed by a hollered, “Two-minute call.”
She stiffened and tried to pull away, her attempt failing due to the strong arm wrapped around her. “We’ll discuss this later.” In weeks. After the tour ended.
His fingers caressed her cheek, her chin, her neck. “There’s nothing to discuss. I only wanted to prepare you.” His tempting lips turned somber, no humor, no comfort. Only sincerity. “After the show you’ll be on my bus. In my bed. In my arms. The rest will sort itself out.” He bridged the distance between them, his beard scraping her jaw as he whispered in her ear. “You and me. Forever.”
She closed her eyes and whimpered at the press of his mouth below her ear. “But my job…”
“We’ll sort it out.” He placed another scorching kiss to her skin.
“The baby…”
“We’ll sort it out.” His lips brushed her throat.
“No.” She shook her head but couldn’t tear herself away. “I can’t think when we’re together. I can’t do my job.”
“We’ll…” He nipped her skin. “Work…” He bit. “It…” He sucked. “Out.”
She felt the sensations all the way through her chest. From the peaks of her nipples, then lower, to the newly forming pulse in her clit.
&n
bsp; There was another shout from outside, this one garbled.
“You better go.”
He nodded, his arm still around her.
“Tell me you love me.”
She didn’t want to. The admission would be a sign of surrender, when she wasn’t done fighting.
“Tell me,” he whispered. “Because I can already see it in your eyes.”
“Ryan, it’s better if we wait until the end of the tour.”
He grinned, unfazed by the rejection. The beauty of his expression stole her breath. This man was sweet and loving and protective. He was happiness personified. The temptation she may soon be willing to risk absolutely everything for.
“We can talk la—” Her words vanished as the door flew open.
She shoved from his chest, her gaze flying to the mirror and the reflection of the woman now standing in the doorway, a security guard rushing in behind her.
“I’m sorry, Leah.” The guard ignored the compromising position before him. “I didn’t want to risk manhandling a pregnant woman.”
“It’s OK,” she lied, because clearly, everything was horribly wrong. She stepped away from Ryan and focused on Julie, the familiar face now a mix of shock, pain, and anger that transformed her features like a kaleidoscope. “We can take it from here.”
The guard slinked away as Julie crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the loose top tight over the small mound of her belly. “Why am I not surprised?”
“You shouldn’t be here.” Ryan strode forward, approaching his wife. “You said you’d lay low until the announcement.”
“I did lay low. Now I’m here so we can share the news together. Obviously, I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting something. At least not with her.” Julie wrinkled her nose. “I guess my years of jealousy were justified.”
A dull throb formed in Leah’s brain. Another anxiety attack waiting on the periphery. This was the end. Her position as band manager was seized by the hangman’s noose. Eviscerated with the opening of a door. There’d be no more Ryan. No more Reckless. No more life filled with achievements.
She’d fucked up.
She’d failed.
Again.
She turned her back to Ryan and Julie, their conversation drowned from the hysteria taking over her mind. Bile bubbled up her throat. She closed her eyes. Swayed.
“Leah, are you OK?” Ryan grabbed her arms and lowered to eye level.
“Yeah. Of course.” She blinked up at him, pretending, like always, and then turned to take in the empty room. “Where’s Julie?”
“She ran. I have to go after her.” He scrutinized her. So much dreary desolation in one handsome face. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”
She nodded through the doubt. Julie would take pleasure in sharing what she’d walked in on. Without hesitation. “Go. I’ll stall the performance.”
He smashed his lips to hers, quick and hard, but still there was no relief. Only anger at herself for causing this mess. When he pulled away she waited, watching him leave before she dragged her feet from the room.
“I’m sorry, Leah.” The security guard was waiting in the hall, his brows drawn tight. “I didn’t want to physically restrain her, and I wasn’t even sure she was telling the truth about being Ryan’s wife. I’ve never seen her at a concert before.”
“Forget about it. You did the right thing.” She’d been the one in the wrong. At each and every turn since Ryan first kissed her in Richmond.
“I’m not going to say anything,” he added. “I mean…about what I walked in on.”
“Thanks.” She slunk away, hiding her wince from view. His silence wouldn’t matter. Julie’s enthusiasm would be enough to convince Leah’s boss of the breach in contract. Especially when Ryan’s wife had already set the ball rolling last week with the online interview.
The fooling around was over. It had to be.
She was too damn tired. Too drained.
The years of fighting her love for him, then battling to keep their shared feelings a secret had taken their toll. The collateral damage was piling up. She had to bow out. Now. While there was still one preemptive strike available to help salvage everything she’d worked for.
She palmed her phone from her pants pocket and scrolled through her directory. Bruce’s name resembled a white flag. She was giving up. Giving in. She pressed the screen, the resulting rings sinking into her chest like lead.
“What can I do for you, Leah?”
She stopped in front of the door leading to side-stage, the crowd chanting for Reckless on the other side as she closed her eyes. “I have a feeling more drama is about to unfold from Julie.”
He paused, the contemplation filled with disappointment. “Did you cause the drama?”
“No.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the depth of how low she’d sunk. “She snuck backstage and misconstrued something she walked in on. She’s pregnant and emotional. She doesn’t—”
“Leah…”
She hung her head.
“This has happened one too many times,” he murmured.
“It’s all a misunderstanding,” she lied. It kept happening because she was in love. The vicious cycle kept spinning because her professionalism was being smothered by uncontrollable emotions over someone she wasn’t supposed to have.
“Then, if you plan to keep your job, you know what you need to do.”
“Yes.” She nodded and turned the door handle. “I know.”
* * *
Ryan ran down the hall, closing in on Julie. “Wait.”
She stopped, pivoted, and slumped against the wall to stare back at him. Her eyes were glazed, her hand pressed tight against her baby bump as if it needed protection from him.
“You can’t mention a word of this.”
She scoffed. “I most certainly can.”
“But you’re not going to. We can’t get back together, Julie. It’s not going to happen. I want to be with her. But that doesn’t mean I’ll support you and the baby any less. I’ve already spoken to my lawyers. They’ve arranged a payment schedule to help cover medical expenses in the coming months, and once the baby is born and paternity is established, I’ll have bank accounts set up for you and our child.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
“That’s the best I can offer. I’m going to be a part of this baby’s life, and I’m also not going to give up on what I have with Leah.”
“What makes you think you can make it work with her? Once she loses her job, the two of you will have the same relationship we had. You’ll be separated most months of the year. You’ll grow distant. You’ll never make it work.”
“She’s not going to lose her job.”
She gave a derisive laugh. “One phone call from me and she will.”
“She’s not your enemy, Julie. If you want someone to blame, I’m your man. Leah has only ever tried to keep us together.” God. How hadn’t he seen that? He raked his fingers through his hair. “I told her she was the cause of our divorce, but I was wrong. She tried to save our marriage. I was the one who ruined everything. I was the one who quit trying because I couldn’t stop loving her. This is all on me.”
“It doesn’t have to be. You can still fix it. I can give you the family that she never will.”
“If she doesn’t want kids, I’ll deal with it.”
Julie stared into the distance and drew a deep breath. “It has nothing to do with her wanting kids. You’ll never be able to give them to her. This is your only chance.”
He waited for her to elaborate, to establish any sort of meaning to the puzzle. If she wanted to manipulate him, she could take her best shot, he was more than willing to be her target. He just wouldn’t be her victim.
“I tried to give you children for years. It never happened. It was one unsuccessful attempt after another.”
It never happened.
It. Never. Happened.
He dropped his hands to his sides, unable to hide the effect of
her verbal sucker-punch. “The baby isn’t mine.”
“It could be.” She raised her chin and met his eyes. “The father didn’t want to settle down. He doesn’t want a family. But you do. This is all you’ve ever wanted. And it’s the only opportunity you’ll get.”
He had no words, not even a scoff. Torment clogged his throat. Grief cemented his lungs.
“Ryan, I know you’re hurt, but you need to listen to what I’m going to say.” She pushed from the wall and came to stand before him. “We tried to make a family, year after year. I never once became pregnant.” She glanced down between them and ran a hand over her belly. “Obviously, the lack of success hadn’t been because of me.”
“Fuck.” His shout reverberated off the walls, startling her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe away the disgust. He’d gone from hating the nights in the tour bus, to loving the thought of them because he could hide away with Leah. He went from thinking the world was against him, to not caring as long as he had the woman he loved in his arms. He’d gone from despair to hope due to Leah’s love, and he’d cast it all aside for this woman. For loyalty. For responsibility.
“We can still make this work,” she murmured. “Nobody else needs to know. You could have everything…”
One by one his dreams of having children burned to ash. He wouldn’t learn to braid hair, or teach guitar. He wouldn’t cradle his own child. Couldn’t give a father-daughter speech about the merciless charm of boys.
“Yeah.” He began to nod. “I want everything.”
Her eyes brightened, her hope spurring the words clogging his throat.
“I want the apartment.” He straightened. “I want the car.” He leaned close. “I want the bank balance.” He smirked, the expression filled with a threat he hoped she understood. “I want every damn thing I gave you that you didn’t deserve.”
Her face went pale. “Ryan—”
“As soon as tonight’s show is over, I’ll be on the phone to my lawyer. He’ll be informed of your infidelity and told there’s no length I won’t go to in an attempt to drag your name to hell and back… Unless you sign the next settlement that’s drawn up, and never contact me again.”