Troublemaker: Rascals: Book Five

by McCoy, Katie

  “Did you buy these for me?” I asked, sandwiched between Alex and Kelsey.

  “No,” Kelsey said, at the same time Alex said:

  “Maybe.”

  “Guys!” I glared at them, but there was no real anger in it.

  They were trying their best. And I couldn’t deny that I looked good. I felt good too. For the first time since everything had blown up with Dante, I was starting to feel a little like a human being again.

  Until we entered the crowded bar.

  It was the usual Friday happy-hour crowd—people hanging out after work, meeting up with friends and possible dates, before heading to the dozens of more formal restaurants around the bar.

  Usually, I loved being at Rascals. Especially on these busy nights. Because those were the nights that had proved to Emerson and the guys that their bar was a success. Which had proved to my parents that Emerson hadn’t made a huge mistake buying and managing a bar. So, I tended to think of a few busy nights at Rascals as a sign of the continuing success of the bar.

  But tonight, it just made me feel lonely and hollow inside.

  I didn’t want to be there, and no new outfit or team of supportive girlfriends was going to change that. Still, I did my best to put on a happy face for Alex and Kelsey, doing the same when Gabi and Juliet joined us.

  “You look hot, girl,” Gabi said, letting out a low whistle when she saw my outfit.

  “Told you.” Kelsey gave me a gentle nudge in the side.

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, struggling to keep a smile on my face.

  But I felt so empty and sad. Only Juliet seemed to pick up on it. She sidled up next to me while the other girls put in their song requests for karaoke.

  “How are you?” she asked, her voice gentle.

  “Fine,” I lied.

  “Hayley,” she said sympathetically. “It’s OK if you’re not.”

  “Everyone went to the effort of getting me dressed and out of the house,” I told her. “I don’t want to sit here like a sad, depressed lump.”

  “Everyone would understand,” Juliet said, patting my arm comfortingly.

  I leaned my head down on her shoulder and she gave me a hug.

  “I miss him,” I said quietly.

  “I know.” Juliet squeezed me tightly. “It’s the worst feeling, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, hot tears threatening to spill. But before they could, Alex, Kelsey, and Gabi returned, and I quickly swiped at my eyes and put on a happy face.

  “Are you guys ready to karaoke?” Alex asked excitedly.

  “Hell yeah!” Gabi pumped her fist into the air. “Let’s rock this place to the ground.”

  It was the first time Rascals was hosting a karaoke night, so things didn’t go smoothly at first. But after a few minor hiccups and misplayed songs, the guy running the machine finally figured out how to get things moving smoothly. By that point, I was staring at my half-drunk martini, wondering how much longer I had to sit there pretending I was having a good time.

  Going out had been a mistake. The girls had good intentions, but I wasn’t ready for public consumption. Not yet.

  “Want to go next?” Juliet asked me. “We could do a duet?”

  I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to sing. Not that the girls knew that. They were just trying to make me feel better.

  Everyone was visibly disappointed.

  “We were really hoping to hear you sing,” Alex said. “Emerson said you kicked ass at your rehearsal.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling sad and guilty. I got up, turning my back to the stage. “I just think I need to go home.”

  I expected them to argue, but it seemed like none of them were paying attention to me anymore. They were all looking past me, towards the stage, where the next singer was being introduced. Their eyes were wide as saucers.

  “This is a dedication,” the host said into the microphone. “He’s says it’s for Hayley.”

  I turned slowly as the music started. It was an old Elvis song—a really sexy, crooning one. A personal favorite of mine.

  And it was Dante standing there, ready to sing it.

  Dante. Singing. In a crowded bar.

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure this was reality. Because how could it be? Dante avoided the bar on Friday nights because he hated crowds. He hated being the center of attention. And he definitely hating performing of any kind.

  Could he even sing?

  His voice was low and rich as he started singing.

  “Wise men say,” he began. “Only fools rush in . . .”

  “Oh. My. God.” Juliet’s voice was a hushed whisper behind me.

  “Wow,” Kelsey echoed.

  “Damn,” Gabi said with real admiration in her voice.

  “Fucking finally,” Alex added. “I was wondering when he was going to do something.”

  I shot her a quick look, and the smile she gave me indicated that this whole thing—the getting me out of my place, getting me dressed up, and getting me here—had been part of a larger plan.

  I should have been annoyed, but as Dante sang, I found it hard to be anything but in love. I turned back to Dante.

  Everyone’s voices faded into the background as I focused all my attention on him. He was dressed, as always, completely in black, but it was definitely working with the song. He looked like a cross between a young Johnny Cash and Elvis in his prime. Basically he looked like sex on a stick.

  And he could sing. He could really sing.

  “Because I can’t help falling in love with you . . .”

  “It would definitely be a sin—the things I would do to him,” I heard a girl at another table say to her friend.

  “You said it,” her friend responded, both of them totally fixated on Dante.

  I couldn’t blame them. Watching Dante perform, something he was probably extremely uncomfortable doing, was practically a sexual experience. He wasn’t the best singer I’d ever heard—Austin James could still sing circles around him—but he had a great, low, sexy voice and he was selling the shit out of that song.

  And he was singing at me. For me.

  If I wasn’t sitting, my knees might have buckled beneath me. It was so romantic, so personal, and so completely out of character for Dante that I didn’t know what to do. I was breathless.

  Dante had never been the type who made big, public gestures. As all the guys had made sure to point out over the years, he had never even introduced a girl to the group, let alone made some public statement about someone he cared about.

  Dante kept singing, stepping off the small stage where the karaoke set up was.

  I couldn’t move, could only watch as he wove through the crowd. The entire bar had gone silent—everyone watching him. Everyone watching us because he came right towards me. The song was for me. All of it was for me.

  Tears filled my eyes, but for the first time since we’d broken up, they were happy tears.

  “Because I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

  He stood in front of me, the last few notes of the song lingering in the hushed room before everyone started applauding wildly. Almost immediately, Alex started shushing them.

  “Quiet! Quiet!” she ordered. “Dante has something to say.”

  I expected him to shoot her a look—one of Dante’s patented “don’t fuck with me” looks—but he didn’t. He didn’t even seem to hear her. He was staring at me like there was no one else around.

  “Hayley,” he said, putting the mic down and picking up my hands.

  I numbly accepted the gesture, too stunned to do anything but stare down at our hands. His fingers were so warm against mine.

  “Hayley,” he started again. “I was an asshole.”

  “Yes,” I told him. “Yes, you were.”

  He gave me a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

  I managed to nod, hoping that this was going where I wanted it to go.

  “I love you,” he said, and my heart nearly exploded with happiness.
r />   “You do?” I asked, afraid that I might have imagined something so wonderful.

  “I do,” he said, holding my hands tightly. “I am in love with you and I want to be with you.”

  I couldn’t breathe, but still, I was afraid that it wasn’t real. That he’d take it back.

  “What about what you said before?” I asked. “About not being able to protect me.”

  He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “I was right about that,” he said. “I can’t promise that I’ll always be able to protect you. But I’ll try my damnedest.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t need to be protected, but he held up a hand.

  “But I can promise that I’ll trust you to take care of yourself. And to ask for help when you can’t.”

  His words meant the world to me.

  “You’re incredible,” he said. “You’re smart, and strong, and passionate, and beautiful as hell. And if you forgive me for being the biggest asshole on the planet, I promise to make it up to you whenever I can.” He took a deep breath. “Because I’m all in. You, me. I’m in. I want to be with you.”

  The entire bar seemed to sigh with the romance of it all.

  “Well?” Alex urged when I didn’t respond right away.

  “Yeah.” Kelsey was almost jumping up and down with excitement. “What do you say, Hayley?”

  I looked around at the room of smiling, expectant faces and then back at the one face that mattered. Dante. He looked nervous, but hopeful. I grinned at him.

  “I say,” I looped my arms around his neck, “that I love you too, Dante.”

  This time, the cheer that went up in the bar was almost deafening. While everyone shouted their approval, Dante pulled me into his arms and kissed me. And kissed me. And kissed me.

  And pretty soon the rest of the world just seemed to fade away.

  23

  Hayley

  A few weeks later…

  I could hear the crowd from the dressing room. Our second audition with Austin James had gone even better than I imagined. The crowd had been really into the music and I had completely lost myself in the songs that Kara had written. It couldn’t have gone better, and it became pretty clear afterwards that Austin felt the same. After the event, we had been called into a meeting with his manager and the head of the record label. They wanted us to record an EP, but first, we were going to go on tour with Austin, opening for him. The tour was starting in Chicago, and we’d be on the road for a few months. Even though I was nervous about being away from home—and from Dante—I knew that this was an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. And I didn’t want to. It was a huge thrill and an enormous honor to have the support of someone like Austin, who had been effusive with pride over our work.

  Tonight was our first night opening for him, and the crowd was enormous. I could hear them shouting and chanting, excited for the main attraction, but hopefully eager to hear us play as well.

  “Sometimes a crowd this size needs a little time to warm up,” he had told us that afternoon at soundcheck. “Don’t get worried if they’re not as excited during your first few songs. They’ll love you.”

  He had been in the industry for a while and had been gracious and generous with sharing information—what we should expect, what we should be careful about, and what things we should celebrate.

  “Every show is a learning experience,” he’d said to us. “Even if it doesn’t go exactly as planned, you can still gain something from it.”

  But right now, waiting backstage for the show to start, I wasn’t eager to have tonight become a learning experience. I wanted it to be a success. I wanted them to love us. I wanted to blow them away.

  I was jangling with nerves. This was already so different from our previous gigs. Not only was the venue about ten times the size of our usual performance spaces, but it was a legitimate theater with dressing rooms for us. Which meant that instead of getting ready together as we were used to doing, all of us had our own space to get ready.

  I appreciated the privacy, especially since I didn’t have to change behind a screen this time, but the room felt too empty and too quiet right now. I thought about knocking on Kara or Maddie’s door, just to soak up some of the nervousness and excitement with someone else, but before I could head out, there was a knock at my dressing room door.

  Thinking it was another band member, I threw it open, only to find Dante standing there.

  “Dante!” I was so relieved to see him that I threw myself into his arms, winding my arms around his neck. “I thought you guys would be in the audience.”

  I had gotten everyone comp seats for the show, right in the front row, because even though I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to see them, knowing they were there, in front of me, would help ease my nerves.

  Especially knowing that Dante was there.

  Ever since his public and romantic gesture at Rascals, things had been amazing between us. They had started rebuilding the community gym, but still, Dante and I found plenty of time to be together. I’d help him at the gym, he’d tag along to my rehearsals, listening and providing invaluable support. When he was there was when I always sang my best.

  I needed that confidence tonight.

  “I just thought I’d come and check on you before the show starts,” he said, his VIP pass hanging around his neck.

  He looked so good, I had a hard time focusing on anything else. He wore a pair of jeans and a snug black T-shirt that was stretched tight across his broad chest. I was extremely tempted to rip it off of him and have my naughty way with him. Sex with Dante always seemed to relax me.

  “Damn,” Dante said, giving me a long once-over.

  I flushed as his eyes swept over me, as intense as a caress. I had gone all out with my wardrobe tonight. Austin had insisted that we made sure to look the part of rock stars, so he had taken the guys shopping and his girlfriend, Mia, had taken the girls out. We all found a variety of outfits for the shows—things that would look good under the lights but would also be comfortable for us to move in.

  “Dressing for a stage like this is totally different than what you might be used to,” Mia had told us. “The bigger you can go, the better. Just remember that you’re basically a tiny speck to a lot of people in the audience. So be a big, bright spec.”

  Following her advice, I had worn my biggest, brightest outfit. It was a pair of silver lace-up boots with clear stiletto heels, a red skirt that flared out and sparkled when I spun, and an off-the-shoulder sequined top that made me look like I was a really cute, badass disco ball. I felt sexy and confident in the outfit, and from the look Dante was giving me, it was clear he felt the same.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, putting his hands on my hips and dropping a hot kiss on my throat. “Are you nervous?”

  “Maybe a little,” I confessed.

  Understatement of the century. My entire body was jangling with nerves.

  “I know a great cure for nerves,” Dante told me, his hands sliding over my bare shoulders, pulling the side of my shirt downward. “The perfect way to relax you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, even though I knew exactly where he was going with this, and I was more than happy to let him.

  Because he was right. It was the perfect way to relax me.

  “How much time do you have?” he asked, baring my lacy black bra to the cold air of the room while he continued to kiss my neck.

  I leaned my head to the side to give him better access. I wanted to kiss him back, but a professional had just done my makeup and I was afraid of smudging the bright red lipstick she had so painstakingly applied.

  “Fifteen minutes,” I said.

  “Perfect,” he told me. “I only need ten.”

  “Cocky, aren’t you?” I asked, pulling back a little.

  He gave me a wicked grin. “Cocky, or confident?”

  “Aren’t they the same?” I wanted to know, my voice ending in a gasp as he captured my nipple in his hot mouth.

&
nbsp; “Hell if I know,” he said before moving to the other breast. “I just know I can get you off in ten minutes. Or less.”

  A thrill ran through me as he put his hands around my waist and lifted me until I was sitting on the vanity in front of my dressing room mirror.

  “I have to be careful,” I told him, my voice dropping to a low murmur.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling my shirt back up. “No one will know.”

  Then he dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “I like these boots,” he said, running his finger along the laces that ran up the inside of my leg.

  I shivered with each touch.

  “Fifteen minutes,” I reminded him, already so hot that I could have exploded.

  “Don’t rush me,” he teased, sliding his hands up my thighs and parting my legs for him. “I like this skirt too. What’s underneath it?”

  He kissed the inside of my knee.

  “You’ll have to find out on your own,” I teased him.

  He gave me a sexy grin. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, before slipping his hand underneath my skirt until he found my lace thong. “You’re very wet,” he told me, running a finger along my seam.

  The pressure was light and teasing and it drove me wild.

  “Dante,” I begged. “Please.”

  He grinned at me, before carefully hooking his fingers into the soaking wet crotch of my thong and pulling it to the side. Then, he pushed my skirt up to my waist and leaned forward, putting his hot, talented mouth right at the place where I needed it the most.

  I cried out as he licked me, my head falling back against the mirror. I might have been messing up my hair, but I didn’t care at that moment. Instead, I laced my fingers through Dante’s hair, holding him to me, showing him what I wanted.