Strike Out (Barlow Sisters Book 2)

by Jordan Ford

  The dancers up front jump in unison, shouting out the chorus. Cairo grins at them, bending low and singing down at their level.

  Damn. That is so incredibly sexy.

  Flicking his head back, his hair flies in an arc and my mouth pools with desire.

  A row of shrieks goes up along the front.

  I’m obviously not the only one affected by Cairo’s moves.

  Latifa shifts up the stage, slapping her bass while Cairo holds the mic out so the crowd can shout out the chorus with him.

  The song ends with a flurry of whistles and cheers. I stick my fingers in my mouth and join in the noise. My piercing whistle is swallowed by the thick crowd and Velocity launches into their next number.

  “Everytime We Touch.”

  Latifa takes the mic for this one. Her voice is deep and alluring, pulling in the audience…including myself. My lips part as she owns the stage with her stunning rendition of Cascada’s song.

  Austin grins, adding in a cool electronic riff while Roman goes for it on drums. Cairo holds his guitar and starts jumping, revving up the crowd to a fever pitch.

  My heart thunders, an overpowering desire rushing through me as I long to be up there with them.

  Cairo raises his hands above his head and starts clapping. Everyone joins in…including me. A smile spreads across my face as I’m sucked into the moment.

  I’ve never felt this kind of thrill before.

  “Woohoo!” I scream, shaking my head and feeling the music rush through me. Before I know it, I’m jumping with the rest of them.

  The song wraps up and I throw back my head with a laugh.

  This is awesome. This is so incredibly awesome.

  No one knows me here. No one’s watching me, expecting me to find this lame because it’s not baseball. I don’t have to be anything for anybody. I can just dance and pretend like this is normal.

  Clapping my hands, I cheer Velocity on as Cairo steps up to the mic. “Thanks so much, everybody. It’s great to be here again. And thank you for those requests you sent in after last time. We’ve got a good lineup for you tonight, so enjoy.”

  He steps back and focuses on his guitar, this cool sound oozing out of it as he uses the pedal at his feet. Then he starts this steady strum that pumps through my veins as he sings “99 Red Balloons.”

  Oh man, it’s such a cool version of this song.

  I bang my head and laugh as Velocity casts a magic spell over the entire club. I find a little space at the end of the bar and start bopping like I’m on my own. Waving my hands in the air, I pump them back and forth, loving the feel of my elastic body, loose and unhinged.

  It’s so different to stepping up to home plate, where everything needs to be focused and my body has to be in this perfect position for best results.

  This is liberating.

  It’s—

  I jerk to a stop as Cairo starts singing in German. No freaking way.

  Laughter bursts through me. It’s like the ball of sun in my chest is trying to break apart just so the rays can reach him.

  I can’t take my eyes off him as he brings the song right down to a soft caress and practically whisper-sings the last verse into the mic.

  There are no words to describe whatever the hell is going on inside me right now. But I love this feeling, whatever it is. This giddy, floaty euphoria.

  “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

  The girl beside me smashes a battering ram into my dreamy moment.

  “Huh?” I glance at her, failing to hide my irritation at being interrupted.

  “Cairo Hale!” She leans into my space, talking above the next song. “He’s hot!”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “I suppose he is.”

  “Oh, come on, I saw the way you were just looking at him.” She smirks. “I know exactly how you feel. That guy is sex on a stick.” Her tongue skims her top lip as she glances back at the stage. “I should know.”

  She should she know?

  Shit! She’s slept with him…and she wants to do it again.

  Sex on a stick!

  I take in her made-up face and luscious waves of dark hair. She looks like a model—skinny and elegant. Her style is flawless…and totally intimidating.

  Crossing my arms, I glance down at my shoes and remind myself that I probably look like an idiot. Seriously, who wears Converses with a homecoming dress?

  I do.

  I swallow and try to focus back on the stage but Miss Interruption hasn’t finished yet.

  “I wish I could be one of his permanent girls.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Hell, half the girls in here probably do. Imagine going to bed with that stallion every night.”

  “Excuse me? One of his permanent girls?” I frown.

  “Yeah.” She nods. “Hale gets around. There’s always a girl on his arm, and if she’s lucky enough, she’ll be more than a one-night stand.” Her smile is stunning as she flutters her lashes and gives me a dreamy smile. “I wish he’d make me more than a one-night stand.”

  I open my mouth to reply but can’t think of anything to say.

  The only words ringing in my head right now are one of his girls.

  It makes me feel like crap.

  Here’s me—Miss No Shot—drooling over Cairo when he could have any girl in this bar.

  And apparently he likes it that way.

  Always has a girl on his arm.

  Well, that’s just awesome.

  Inching away from my night ruiner, I find a stool at the very end of the bar. It’s in a dark corner, perfect for brooding in.

  I guess I should be flattered that Cairo invited me to come with him tonight.

  Except he didn’t.

  Roman did.

  Which means that Cairo’s only really teaching me guitar because he’s trying to be nice. Or he’s trying to turn me into his next girl.

  Was that what that look meant, when he was checking me out tonight?

  Was he stepping it up, getting ready to make his move?

  Whatever.

  He can shove that idea up his ass.

  I’m not interested in fawning over some rock star.

  I can’t believe I let myself, even for a second.

  I should be home right now. Or better yet, I should be at homecoming with my sisters. They’ve never been anything but real with me.

  And what have I done? Lied to their faces.

  Closing my eyes, I let the guilt take hold until I’m sitting in that dark corner under a pile of ash.

  The rest of Velocity’s performance is lost in a blur. I’m vaguely aware of it, but by the time they finish up and Cairo comes to find me, I’m done.

  “Hey.” He grins, stretching his arms wide like he’s expecting some congratulatory hug.

  I cross my arms and give him a tight smile. “I need to get home.”

  “Oh, uh, sure.” He drops his arms, looking kind of confused when I brush past him and start walking for the door.

  I wait by the van while they load up. It’s obvious they want to kick around and party in the club for a while.

  “I can just get a taxi.” I point over my shoulder.

  “What?” Cairo frowns. “No way. We can take you home.”

  Latifa lets out a noise of disgust before thumping into the van.

  Cairo winces and then offers me the front seat. I take it.

  I don’t want to be staring at the back of his head anyway.

  One of his girls.

  Ugh! I’m such an idiot.

  I keep my eyes trained on the darkness outside the whole way home. Austin tries to talk to me but I pretend I can’t hear him. When we reach my street, I ask him to pull over. “I’ll walk the rest of the way home.”

  “It’s pretty late. We should take you to your door.” Cairo leans forward.

  “I’m fine!” I spin around and nearly fold when I see the look of concern on his face. “Um…” Glancing down, I lower my tone and mumble, “You guys did really great tonight. You were amazing. Thank
s for inviting me.”

  I throw Roman a half-hearted smile.

  He winks back and then looks down at Latifa, who is scowling at him.

  Slipping out of the van before I can hear the aftermath of that one, I ignore Cairo’s soft “Good night” and start running down the street.

  The van lights stay on me until I veer into my driveway.

  The house is already closed up for the night. The lights are turned off in the kitchen and living room.

  Acting like a cat, I sneak around to my window, hoping Maddie left it unlatched for me.

  With a relieved sigh, I ease it open and climb through. The second my feet touch the floor, her lamp clicks on.

  “Where have you been?” Her blue eyes are wide with a mixture of concern and annoyance.

  I stare down at my double.

  The truth is on the edge of my tongue. It’d be so easy to slump onto my bed right now and spill the lot.

  She’d understand, wouldn’t she?

  Her gaze fills with expectation. She’s wanting an answer, silently putting the pressure on.

  It reminds me of Dad and the way he looks at me when he’s psyching me up for a game.

  With a thick swallow, I turn my back on her and start getting ready for bed.

  “Max, you are so not ignoring me right now.” She throws her covers back and sits up. “I had to lie for you. When we got home, Mom was asking where you were. I nearly got you busted because you gave me no warning. I thought you were home in bed.”

  My entire body pings tight. “What’d you say to her?”

  She lets out a huff and then mumbles, “I told her you and some of the guys from the team were hitting a late-night movie.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “And she bought it?”

  “I told her it was that new one with the werewolves and that ex pro-wrestler who can’t act to save himself. You know, the one that only you want to see.”

  Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks, sis.”

  “I suggest you read up about it before you see her in the morning. She’ll no doubt ask you how it was.” Maddie’s tone is sharp with irritation.

  “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I know.” I shrink in on myself, dipping my head to hide my face.

  “Where were you?”

  “I…” I blow out a breath. “I can’t tell you.”

  I glance up in time to see the hurt cresting over her expression.

  It kills me, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. I’m exhausted. I’ve gone from heady elation to complete deflation.

  I just want to curl up in my bed and not think about how I’m supposed to play this.

  I don’t want to lose those guitar lessons. Whether Cairo likes me or not, no matter what his motivations were for giving me that offer, I need to take it.

  Now that I’ve started playing, I don’t want to stop.

  And if I tell Maddie…it might.

  What if she somehow convinces me to turn my back on this thing? She loves that I’m the baseball star. She’s as proud of me as Dad is.

  I just don’t think she’ll get it.

  “Max.” Maddie gets out of bed and pads across the stained carpet. Taking a seat beside me, she runs her hand down my back. “What’s going on? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

  “No.” I shake my head, thinking about just how much trouble I’d be in if Dad knew I went to a club tonight. I could have so easily taken a drink from that bartender. Dad would flip his lid.

  Swallowing back the harrowing thought, I look at my sister and tell her as much truth as I can.

  “I know you hate this. We’ve always told each other everything. But please, just let me keep this secret, sis. I promise I’ll tell you when the timing’s right.” Grabbing her face, I look her in the eye and swear it again. “I promise. You’ll be the first to know.”

  Maddie’s face bunches with confusion.

  I kiss the wrinkles on her forehead and then lurch off the bed before anything more can be said.

  Sneaking to the bathroom, I go into stealth-ninja mode and get ready for bed as quietly as I can. I even manage to lock the kitchen door Mom left open for me before slipping into bed.

  Maddie’s already turned the light off and is pretending to be asleep.

  I know she’s not.

  I’ve hurt her tonight by keeping this to myself.

  But I’m not ready to let her in.

  Not until I figure out exactly what I’m going to do about Cairo…and all his girls.

  16

  No Bullshit

  CAIRO

  Max was acting weird after the club.

  I thought she’d be into it, but maybe being in that environment put her off or something. Maybe something happened while we were performing.

  Shit, I shouldn’t have just sent her out there by herself. I should have found someone to take care of her while I was on stage.

  Running a hand through my hair, I silently berate myself as I wait for Max to arrive for her next guitar lesson…if she shows. Austin found out from Kingston that baseball practice was canceled this afternoon, so I found Max and told her we could fit in an extra session if she wanted.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled, giving me a noncommittal shrug before stalking off.

  “Max, wait, can we talk?” I called after her but she just kept walking like she didn’t hear me. I nearly chased her down but didn’t want to cause a scene in front of anyone.

  So instead, I’m here…waiting…just in case.

  But I can’t ignore that small niggle of doubt.

  I texted her three times yesterday, and she didn’t respond once. I nearly called, but didn’t want her having to answer the phone in front of her family.

  See! This is why lying sucks. I should never have agreed to keep this quiet.

  But what choice did I have?

  Not to teach her guitar?

  No way. She’s too good.

  And I’m enjoying it too much.

  That’s probably why I’m so eaten up by her reaction on Saturday night.

  Flicking the strings with my pick, I stare at her empty chair until the sharp edges become blurry. I don’t even know what I’m playing as my fingers run on autopilot, switching through the chords.

  “One of your own?”

  My guitar twangs as I jerk to look at the door. Max is standing there with her arms crossed. Her expression is guarded, but I try to pretend it isn’t.

  “I don’t know. I was just messing around.”

  “You should write your own stuff.” She shrugs. “I’m sure the girls would love that.”

  My eyebrows twitch with confusion as she takes a seat opposite me. I’ve set up the electric guitar for her today. She nestles it on her lap and places her fingers on the strings like she’s been doing it forever.

  “What were you playing?” She stares at my fingers like she’s making a special point not to look at my face.

  “Uh…” I try to remember what I’d put together but end up playing something different.

  She follows along with the chords she knows, repeating the sequence until it’s a steady riff. With a grin, I start changing it up, adding in another layer to whatever the hell we’re playing.

  It sounds good.

  I’ve never really played my own music before. I’ve always spent my time learning someone else’s, adding a little of my own flavor to it.

  But this free-jamming thing is fun.

  Especially with another guitar.

  Man, it’d be cool to add that into the band. Two guitars plus the bass, keys and drums. It’d open up some more songs for us, that’s for sure.

  Tapping my foot, I grin and start singing the lyrics to “40oz Dream” by Good Charlotte. It’s fresh in my head because Dad was playing it over breakfast this morning.

  The chords we’ve put together work with the song even though the rhythm’s slightly differe
nt.

  Max grins and starts singing with me on the chorus. I slip into an easy harmony, inspired by the magic we’re making. I can’t take my eyes off her. She starts to notice and is thrown, hitting a bum chord and killing the moment.

  “That’s okay.” I brush my hand through the air. “That sounded awesome. We were just kicking around with that one.”

  “You should write your own lyrics.”

  I hiss and shake my head. “Not really my thing. My mom’s the poet in our family, not me.”

  “Hmmm.” She tips her head to the side and that look she walked in with clouds her face again. “I thought you’d be a master with the words. You’re certainly a master on the stage.”

  “Thank you.” An uneasy caution stirs within me as I try to read between the lines of what she’s saying.

  “Yeah.” She clears her throat and won’t look at me as she taps her fingers on the top of the guitar. “Chicks love you. You’re so hot. They’d do anything to be one of your permanent girls.”

  “One of my permanent girls?” I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Yeah, you know, more than a one-night stand.” Her aqua gaze hits me then. It’s bright and dangerous.

  Leaning away from it, I raise my eyebrows and stare at the music posters on the wall. Nirvana is tacked up there right next to Beethoven, which is next to Bruno Mars’ 24K Magic album cover. To say my dad’s eclectic is an understatement.

  “I’m not telling you anything new, am I?” Max snaps. “You must love that kind of thing. Girls swooning at your feet while you flick your long hair around and pretend you’re Himeros.”

  The god of sexual desire.

  How the hell does she know that?

  I only know it because my parents are into Greek mythology. Mom loves that stuff. Probably as much as I’m hating this moment.

  Someone must have gotten to her at the club, said something to make her turn on me.

  I roll my eyes, wondering which girl it was.

  “Why are you rolling your eyes? Wouldn’t you be all over that? You’re like a rock star at that club…at this school even.”

  “I’m nothing special,” I murmur.

  “Oh come on. You’re practically a celebrity.”

  “Only with the girls who like music.” I snicker, willing my tone to come out smooth and even. “I’m not the jock or the stud. I’m not buff or athletic. I’m just the mysterious music guy.”