by Anna Paige
I spoke into her hair again, feeling the heat of her against my cheek. "What do you think? You hungry?"
She shook her head a little but said nothing.
My brother and I looked at each other helplessly, neither of us knowing what else to do.
He squatted down in front of the couch, speaking in a soft voice. "I'll stay if you want me to. We still have some time before the show."
Another shake of the head from her, her tears still flowing.
"Okay. But if you need me, I'll come right back." He reached up and tentatively touched her hand. "I'm sorry this happened, Aubrey. Maybe if I hadn't pressured you to come tonight…"
It was my turn to shake my head. "You didn't do anything. She didn't do anything. It wasn't anyone's fault except his." I tipped my head toward the door. "Go prep for the concert. I'll be there in a little while."
"Okay." He patted my shoulder as he stood. "I'll text you when we're ten minutes out, just in case."
I just nodded and watched him leave. He paused a minute at the top of the steps, giving her one last concerned look before disappearing into the night, closing the door behind him.
I held her for a while longer, keeping the ice pack balanced against her arm with one hand, pulling her against me with the other. Her tears slowed after a while but she made no move to let go, so neither did I. It went on like that for so long, I started to wonder if she was holding onto me or if it was me who was holding on to her.
Either way, what we were doing was giving us both a measure of comfort, so I let it ride without questioning it. At least not yet. I was sure I'd replay it all later in my mind a million times, but for now I just want to let it be whatever it was.
"You were right," she muttered against my chest, startling me.
I instinctively held her tighter. "About what?"
"I don't belong here," she said miserably, her voice breaking.
"I never said you don't belong here." Did I? I mean, I may have thought it, but did I say it? She had my mind reeling so much that I truly didn't know.
"I think it was implied by your behavior toward me, don't you? You never wanted me here, thought I wouldn't fit in, and you were right."
I dropped the ice pack onto the couch behind her, running my hand down her back and pulling her practically into my lap. "Does this feel like I don't want you here?" I brought my hand up to tangle it in her hair, running the thick strands through my fingers.
She sighed miserably into my chest, her breath warming me through my wet t-shirt. "No, it feels like pity."
I paused, my hand still in her hair. "Really? Do I strike you as the type of man who does anything out of pity?" She didn't respond, so I gave her hair a little tug, signaling my desire to see her face.
She leaned back to look at me, thin streaks of mascara still marring her reddened cheeks. I reached out and ran my thumb over each of them, whisking away the last of the color and hopefully the last of her tears.
"I don't pity you, Aubrey. I know what happened was scary and embarrassing, but that's not why I'm comforting you."
"Then why are you?" Her gaze wandered over my face, and I couldn't stop staring at her blue gray eyes, how they sparkled in the light.
"Because you're letting me." She gave me a look of confusion, so I hesitantly added, "and because I like holding you almost as much as I like pissing you off."
I don't know which of us moved first—maybe it was me—but a moment later, our faces were millimeters apart, our breath mingling on each other's lips, eyes locked and hearts pounding.
"Aubrey…" I closed the distance between us, sealing my mouth over hers. My hand was still tangled in her hair, and I found myself tightening my grip, pressing her closer so I could delve deep inside, tasting her. She moaned into my mouth, and my cock jerked in my jeans, my whole body flooding with need.
We sank into each other, tongues tangling, hands roaming, and it was fucking amazing. I hadn’t kissed a woman like that in forever, usually opting for something more detached, less personal. Not with her, though. Not this time. I found myself wanting to devour her whole.
She threw one leg around me, straddling my lap, sinking down to grind into me as I ground my mouth against hers. I used my free hand to wrap around her waist and pull her down harder, thrusting up at the same time, my breath hitching at the feel of her against me. Our kisses became frantic, the nipping teeth and hair pulling filling me with an all-consuming need.
I dropped both hands to her waist and tugged her tight against me, lifting us both and turning to lay her on her back, covering her body with my own. Just as her hands reached for my damp shirt, intent on tugging it over my head, my phone chirped in my back pocket. She halted and looked at me, disappointment etched into the frown on her face.
I rested my forehead against hers, sighing in defeat. "Dammit…" I muttered against her lips, not wanting to stop. Not now, maybe not ever.
"It's okay. You have to go. They kind of need you." She smiled up at me. "I'll be here when you get back."
"You're not going to watch the show?"
Her face darkened. "No. I think I'll hold off until I have an official pass." That cooled my jets a bit, reminding me of the earlier incident. The truth was, someone probably should have thought about that before she even arrived, but somewhere along the line, someone dropped the ball. They were probably all distracted by the media circus, not that I could blame anyone for that but myself. Even Kane wasn't to blame, not really. I should have been paying better attention to what was going on.
"I'll escort you myself if you want to go. I swear you'll be safe." We were still a hair's breadth apart, foreheads touching. I hated that she was too embarrassed to go because of that asshole security guard.
She shook her head, still smiling to placate me. "I know you'd keep me safe, and thank you for that, but I'm a mess. I just want to sit here and work through some things. I'll be fine here until you get back. Go be the rock star that you are. Give your fans a show they'll never forget. I'll come watch one of your concerts, I promise I will, but not this one. Okay?"
I dropped a kiss on her swollen lips, trying to quell the urge to push. "Okay, warden. I'll let you slide this time. But I want to see you stage-side soon, you got me? I expect full-on fangirl screaming and concert tee wearing, while holding a sign that says 'marry me Kade.’ Deal?"
"One scream, tee shirt size medium, and no sign, or the deal is off."
"Scream my name, I'll buy you one of every shirt ever printed, and instead of the sign, how about writing my name across your boobs?" I waggled my brows, loving the sound of her laughter almost as much as the feel of her beneath me.
My phone chirped again before I could hear her counter offer.
"Get out of here, rock star. I'll see you later tonight." She kissed the tip of my nose and pressed her palms to my chest, effectively giving me the 'get off me' signal all guys dread.
"Yes, warden. I'm bringing back a sharpie so we can practice writing my name on your tits. We need to get it perfect before you decide to have it tattooed."
"Not happening. And stop calling me warden!" she called after me, chuckling as she reached into the dish towel and grabbed a hunk of ice, tossing it at my back and missing by a mile.
"Not a chance. It pisses you off, and that's my new favorite pastime." I scurried off the bus before she could perfect her aim, laughing for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Chapter Five
Kade
My ears were still ringing, I was soaked in sweat, and my throat burned like a bitch, but it had turned out to be a damn good show. Some nights, you were just on and tonight was one of those nights. Everything fell into place and we rocked the fuck out of it. I was so amped up I half wished we could break our 'no encores' policy and go back out there, despite my fatigued vocal cords.
That wasn't a good idea though. We'd eliminated that option after multiple encores hadn't been enough for one overzealous crowd and they rushed the stage, seriousl
y injuring a lot of people in the process. Nope, not a good idea to break that rule. We'd only done it once—for a single song—and that was a holiday show with a close friend in the crowd celebrating her birthday. We liked to call it extenuating circumstances. Jimmy had been pissed when he heard, but by then it was too late.
Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, I always say. Jimmy would suggest otherwise, though.
Still, we'd pushed our luck back then. Given our already precarious position with the suits, now wasn't the time to go pissing anyone else off.
I decided retaking the stage wasn't what I wanted anyway. I wanted to get back to her. Not just because I wanted to pin her to a wall and screw her brains out, though that was definitely near the top of the list of reasons. I wanted to see that she was okay. No, I needed to see that she was okay.
We all filed into the dressing room, still full of adrenaline—the after effect of a truly great show—and they all started talking at once, commenting on the sound, the crowd, the overall feel of the show and how perfectly we fucking nailed it. It was a far cry from the mob mentality I'd walked away from before the concert. Everyone was too jazzed to remember they were pissed at me. Thankful for the moment of respite, I just stood back and smiled, drinking it all in with an ice cold beer in my hand and what passed for a big grin on my face.
Lennox came over and slapped me on the back as if he hadn't been ready to throttle me just a couple of hours ago. "Your throat must be jacked, man. You gave it a thousand percent tonight."
"Yeah," I admitted hoarsely. "I think I see some of that nasty ass slippery elm tea in my future."
Kane swaggered over, laughing at the look of disgust on my face. "Just add some extra honey to it."
"The amount of honey it would take to make that shit palatable would leave me with diabetes," I grumbled, dreading the stuff already.
Ethan shook his head, sweat still dripping from his hair. He was always fried after a show. I honestly didn't know how he moved the way he did. Fastest hands in the business. "We all suffer in our own ways, don't we?" He trudged toward the showers, tossing over his shoulder, "But damn if nights like this don't make it all worth it."
We all nodded after him, in absolute agreement.
Jared called Lennox over to talk all things bass—Lenn was the official bassist but the two of them switched off for certain songs, allowing Lenn to play rhythm while Jared honed his bass skills. It was an arrangement that seemed to work well, and they often had their heads together, comparing notes.
With E in the shower—he always showered first—and Jared and Lenn otherwise engaged, Kane looked over at me with that same concern I'd seen earlier.
"So, was she okay by the time you left?" He was genuinely worried.
"She was much better," I hedged, schooling my features so not to give anything away. "I tried to get her to watch the show but she said her makeup was a mess and she just wasn't up to it tonight. I think she was going to work for a while." I had a hard time meeting his eyes, afraid he'd see right through me. Time for a quick subject change. "Hey, remind me to ask her to reprint the song lyrics for Jared. The copies he's using look like they've been through the wringer."
Kane just eyed me for a minute. "Yeah, I'll be sure to remind you." His gaze narrowed a bit as he studied me. "You're acting like you don't care at all how she is. Can you really still hate her after all that? She was clinging to you for dear life, like you were her fucking savior or something, and you still see her as the enemy?"
"Wait," Lennox turned, having caught some of what Kane said, probably because he wasn't being the least bit discrete. "Who was clinging to him for dear life?"
"Aubrey." My brother effectively tossed me and her both under the bus.
"Kane," I barked. "It ever occur to you that maybe she didn't want it to be public knowledge?"
Jared's interest was piqued. "Want what to be public knowledge? What happened?" He stuttered a bit on that last word, a clear indication that he was caught off guard.
"Some security guard snatched her up, scared the shit out of her. From the looks of her arm earlier, she's going to be sporting bruises."
"Kane!" I stared at him, incredulous. "How about you shut the fuck up?" I was mostly pissed that he was telling people things that weren't his to tell, but I was also seeing red at the memory of that asshole's hands on her. I had the very real urge to track him down and make good on my threats.
Lennox shot me a look. “I remember a time when we all told each other everything. Not that I hadn’t noticed the change before now, but at least until now you pretended to be doing it subconsciously.”
“It’s not like that, Lenn.” I shook my head, hating the distance between us all, and hating even more that I was the one at fault.
He ignored me, addressing my brother as if I wasn’t standing there. "So, why was she clinging to Kade, of all people? I thought they had a hate/hate relationship."
"He caught the guy with his hands on her, and as best as I can tell, he went all caveman and fired the guy before he dragged her back to the bus."
"He could have spoken for himself, asshat," I challenged.
"Yes, but he was being a douche so I stepped in," he countered dismissively.
Jared looked over at me, ignoring the exchange all together. "And she's okay? I mean, was it a good idea to leave her there alone?"
"She's fine," I assured them, wishing Kane knew how to keep his fucking mouth shut. "I tried to get her to come back with me to watch the concert, but she didn't feel up to it. Everyone stop worrying. I wouldn't have left her if she wasn't okay."
Kane smiled all of a sudden, indicating he'd just had an idea he thought was gold. That never seemed to work out in my favor, and I had a feeling this time would be no different. "I think it's a good night to skip the after party and hang out on the bus to keep her company. What do you guys think? You mind hitting the bunks on our bus tonight?" There were three bunks— the fourth had been converted into extra storage— so technically everyone had a place to sleep but, dammit, that was going to ruin my and Aubrey's plans for the night.
Lennox and Jared agreed to the idea immediately, and Ethan no doubt would, too.
Looked like there was going to be a full house tonight.
Well, fuck.
•••
Aubrey
This bus needs to be bigger. I can’t breathe. Or maybe it’s this weight in my chest.
I'd been pacing for close to an hour, since shortly after Kade left. What the hell had I been thinking? I kissed him. No, basic kissing didn't require full body involvement. I'd tried to climb him like a freaking tree. That wasn't kissing. That was foreplay. Glorious, delicious, irresponsible foreplay. While basically on the clock.
Nice professionalism you have there, Bree Bree. Great work ethic.
My father's disappointed voice breezed through my head, snuffing out the last flames of desire my traitorous body harbored. He would be so ashamed of what I'd just done.
I'd worked so hard to keep myself together since he and my mother died, still trying to overcome the stigma associated with my breakdown—an unfortunate reaction to a horrific experience. I'd been working at the same PR firm then, and there were those—like Trish—who never looked at me the same afterward, despite my stellar work record. So I'd had a hard time dealing? So what? I was better now, able to compartmentalize and keep my focus on work.
Until that asshole security guard grabbed me the way he did. It wasn't about being scared of him, not really. I was more freaked out by the way he grabbed me, latching onto my upper arm and dragging me that way, just like the police did after the accident. I fought so hard to get back to the car that night, but they wouldn't let me, yelling over the noise, warning me to keep back. I could hear my mother screaming my father's name as the first responders fought to free them both from the burning car. I could still feel the heat on my face and the unyielding grip of the cop who held me at a safe distance.
The same
bruising grip that had sent me into a tailspin earlier.
The tailspin that landed me in the arms of my charge, the man I was sent here to help, not hump like I was in heat. Shit. I ran my hands through my hair, spinning to pace to the other end of the bus. Logically, I knew I was making a mistake, but the feel of his hands on me, his mouth dominating mine, taking and tasting me… I hadn't been able to stop myself. I still wasn't, truth be told.
If I had even the smallest semblance of restraint, I wouldn't be waiting here for him to return; I'd be running as if my life depended on it.
I should have put in an emergency call to Rhonda—my close friend and former therapist. It would sound bizarre if I introduced her that way to people, but it was the truth. We’d just clicked, right from the beginning. Once we realized our sessions had morphed from clinical and detached to the kind of conversations best friends have over drinks, she referred me to a new therapist and we started having girl’s nights once or twice a month.
She kind of pulled double duty these days, though, since I hadn’t made any follow-up appointments with the woman who replaced her in nearly a year. Rhonda was just better on every level. And she sincerely didn’t mind me venting my problems to her, though she occasionally threatened to charge me if I gave her too much shit. This situation, for instance, might warrant a fee on her part. It would be worth it if there was, though. Every last penny, because she would have a calm, rational take on why I was being so damned impulsive and reckless.
Two traits I was trying to break Kade of, ironically enough.
Putting a certain end to this would be as easy as picking up the phone and spilling my guts, but instead of erring on the side of self-preservation, the side of decency, I was nervously anticipating his return and wondering if I would measure up for a well-practiced lover like Kade Edenfield.