One More Night_2_Backstage Pass Series 2

by Ali Parker

  “That you are.” Her eyes were bright with amusement and curiosity, and she leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “A certain one of those band members wouldn’t just so happen to be contributing to your happiness, would he?”

  Jared knew that my sister knew about us, and he didn’t seem to mind, so I didn’t feel bad about opening up to her about him. I hadn’t spoken to her much during the time we’d been apart since we’d both been buried in work, and I didn’t feel like delving into it now. It would ruin my great mood.

  “He definitely is. At the risk of sounding like a walking, talking cliché, Jared is beyond compare. He’s phenomenal.”

  Kelly sighed dreamily and formed a bridge with her fingers to rest her chin on with the straw of her milkshake scraping at her lips. “Don’t stop now. Tell me more.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.” The thought of him made my heart jump and race, and as I searched through my memories of him to accurately describe him to my sister, my pulse quickened to a thrum, and I couldn’t hold back the singular smile that he brought to my lips.

  “It’s that good, huh?” she asked, sweeping her eyes across my face. I nodded as enthusiastically as a bobble-head doll on a bad road.

  “It really is,” I said and then blurted out, “I think I’m falling for him.”

  My admission hung in the air between us. I hadn’t been planning on saying those words out loud, but now that I had, it was really hard to deny they were true. Saying them also cemented the feeling in me, and I knew without a shadow of doubt that I was falling for Jared, as stupid as that might have been.

  Shit.

  I was in a freefall, and there was no more stopping it, despite what I’d told him in the limo just last night. I knew he wasn’t feeling it too and I didn’t expect him to, but if our time apart had taught me anything it was that he was more to me than a fling or a fuck.

  The panic of that realization settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. What was I going to do? For a man who refused to call spending time together, having meals together, and sleeping together “dating,” Jared would be horrified if I were to tell him how I felt.

  He would put a stop to this whole friends with benefits thing again faster than I would probably be able to get the words out. Putting a stop to it was also the best way of protecting myself from getting in any deeper. From falling deeper.

  But there wasn’t one single part of me that wanted to put a stop to it. Not again.

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed on mine, watching as all these thoughts crashed into me. Finally, she leaned back in the red vinyl booth, pursed her lips, and gave me a pointed look. “Lust or love? Falling in lust with him, I could understand. Hell, I’ve never even met him, and I’m halfway there, but falling in love with him …” She trailed off, but she didn’t need to say the words for me to know what they were.

  Falling in love with him is a bad idea. With a capital B.

  “I know, but it’s not like I can just turn off my feelings. If I’d stopped when it was nothing more than lust, sure. But I didn’t. What I feel for him now surpasses that by a mile.”

  “And what about Jared’s feelings?”

  Jared’s feelings toward knowing the way I felt about him would be absolutely, undoubtedly, entirely negative. Which was why he could never find out the depth of my feelings for him. “They’re not in play. He’s always been very clear about what he wanted. This is fun for him. He doesn’t feel a thing like that for me.”

  “Let’s imagine for a second that isn’t true. Let’s say he feels as deeply about you as you do about him. What then? Have you considered the realities of a relationship with this guy? He has women throwing themselves at him left, right, and center. Part of his job is to flirt with them and to charm them. You’re not typically a jealous person, but how would you handle that?”

  “Not well,” I mumbled. I’d learned that the hard way.

  Kelly knew me better than I knew the palm of my own hand, and she could see the answer in me despite the fact she didn’t know what had happened with that Lesley Ann woman and after. “Exactly. You guys might be having fun now, but I doubt you would be having fun then.”

  Truer words …

  “No, I wouldn’t. We’re not even in a relationship, though, so this isn’t something I have to worry about yet.”

  “Yet?” she asked, raising her brows slowly as she assessed the words I wasn’t saying. “Do you mean you’re not breaking it off with him?”

  “I’m not, no. I just can’t. Not now. Some stuff happened between us I don’t feel like getting into now, but he’s agreed to be exclusive to me and I only just got him back.”

  “What stuff?” she asked, her eyes darkening with worry. “And hold up, Jared Larsen agreed to bang you, and only you, to the exclusion of all other women?”

  “Again, nothing I feel like getting into now. Suffice it to say we got into a fight, spent some time apart, and I didn’t like it much. And yes, he did. Twice now.”

  “You think he’ll stick to it?”

  Nodding, I took another sip of my water, enjoying the fizz of the bubbles popping and burning down my throat as a reprieve to the seriousness of the conversation we were having. Then, I sucked down some of my milkshake for good measure. Only chocolate could fortify me for this.

  “I do. He’s many things, but he’s not dishonest. He’s too authentically himself for that. When he’s over this, I’ll know about it.”

  “What about you? You’re not going to get over him while you’re still under him on such a regular basis, which means you’ll fall harder while he slowly gets you out of his system. Where does that leave you when he does get over it?” Kelly meant well, but she was holding up a mirror I wasn’t ready to look into yet.

  “I’m going to go with the classic, ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it’ approach,” I said, turning my attention to the menu I knew by heart to keep from looking straight into that mirror.

  I should have known she wasn’t going to let me off that easily. “I know I encouraged you to give him a chance at the beginning, and I was all for it when you told me about the arrangement you’d made with him to have fun. I only say this because as much as I love Destitute, I love you so much more, and I think this is becoming too risky for you.”

  She wasn’t wrong, but she also didn’t know Jared the way I did, and a dangerous, tiny part of me that was buried so deep, even I didn’t know it was there most days was still hoping maybe Jared would come around.

  “There’s just something about him. I can’t let him go.” I didn’t fully understand it either, especially not since I knew very well where he stood on the whole dating and relationships thing, but he was like a magnet drawing me in, keeping me there.

  “I don’t mean this to be as callous as it sounds, but that’s just it. There’s something about him, something that has built him a global reputation for being a bad boy. Not even just a bad boy, a playboy too. Jared being Jared, eventually, he will go back to that.”

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but there’s so much more to him than just being a bad boy. He doesn’t let many people see it, but he has a heart of gold.”

  Kelly picked up her glass but didn’t take a sip of water. She just swished the liquid around, thinking over what I’d told her, evidently. “I’ve seen enough of their shows and interviews to know the man has natural charisma by the truckload. Are you sure that’s not all it is?”

  I nodded. “I know he does, too, but it’s not just that. I’m telling you. I can’t let this thing with him go. Not yet.”

  I knew it as well as I did because I’d tried. For two weeks I’d tried to get him out of my mind, but it didn’t work. Not even a little.

  Resignation pinched her features as she raised her milkshake to her lips, taking a long sip before her concerned green eyes met mine. “Fine. You keep having your fun then, but you need to prepare yourself for the eventual letdown.”

  She squeezed the bridge of her nose,
and her eyes shut for a moment as she continued.

  “You can’t love him. Loving him is like loving waking up to a thunderstorm on a Saturday when you don’t have anything you have to do. Or seeing a brightly shooting star when you really need to make a wish, surfing the crest of a perfect wave.”

  “You don’t surf.”

  She rolled her eyes and then fixed me with them. “Whatever. My point is that loving him is like loving a force of nature. It’s brilliant, unstoppable, and for that one moment, everything seems right in the world. But that’s all it is. It’s one fleeting moment.”

  “Like a moonbeam you can’t hold onto.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Elegant analogy,” I said flatly, wishing with all my heart that it wasn’t also a correct one. But it was, and I knew it.

  Despite the fact that her eyes were darkened by worry and her mouth was set in a grim line, my darling little sister was never one to dwell on drama for very long, and although it was forced, she grinned.

  “Thank you,” she said. “If you could hook me up with one of the members of Destitute for some short-term fun, I would be perfectly happy with that. Now, come on. Let’s decide what we’re going to eat. I’m starving.”

  9

  Jared

  “Who says we’re never on time?” Matt asked jokingly, pushing through the doors of the VIP lounge we frequented when we flew.

  Luxurious carpets sank beneath our feet as we followed him inside. Wide windows offered views of the runways on one side of the lounge while the others looked down into the bustling terminal below.

  A permanent buffet spread lined one entire wall, infusing the lounge with smells that made my stomach growl. Travelers were seated at clumped-together loungers and couches, some furiously typing away on their laptops and others chatting quietly in groups.

  We’d tried out several different lounges, restaurants, and other spots when we first broke out of the local scene as a band. Somehow, we kept ending up back at this one. Eventually, we stopped even trying the others and just came straight here when we got to the airport.

  The food was good, the private bar was better, and the fact that the fans, when there were any in here, were generally chilled and respected us as fellow travelers was the clincher. Dom snapped a hair band from his wrist and pulled his long hair back, rolling his eyes at Matt.

  “Gerry sent us a car.”

  “But we were ready to get in it.” Matt shot back, grinning as he turned left toward the long bar that looked out over another runway. Our suitcases were already checked and since we were all light travelers, no one was lugging around extra bags.

  Matt bowed when he got to the bar, catching the eyes of the bartenders and several other patrons already seated. “We’re here. You may all applaud now.”

  Two young guys behind the bar exchanged a confused look and tentatively started clapping. Caleb’s hand went to Matt’s shoulder, and he jerked him upright, shaking his head at the bartenders. “He’s joking. No one needs to applaud anything.”

  “Party pooper,” Matt muttered, resting his elbows on the gleaming bar counter as he leaned over and pointed at the fridge. “Five beers, please, kind sirs. And for the record, feel free to applaud anytime you want. Ignore Debbie Downer over here.”

  “Every new day is a reason to celebrate,” Nick added cheerfully, sliding in next to Matt at the bar.

  “Did they hit their heads on the way in here?” I asked Dom.

  He shrugged and looked at one of the bartenders. “Don’t know what’s wrong with them, but he was being serious about those beers.”

  The guy stared at him for a second, starstruck as his eyes darted from Dom to me to Nick, Matt, Caleb and back to me. His coworker nudged him finally, pointedly inclining his head to the fridge. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’m sorry, Mr. LeSalle.”

  Dom snorted beside me, and Caleb’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Do I look that old?”

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. Dom was the oldest out of all of us, not that being thirty technically made him old, but we never let him forget it.

  He groaned and took the beer the wide-eyed bartender held out to him. “Why do I even ask?”

  “You’re getting senile,” Matt offered, lifting his beer to his smirking lips and taking a long drink.

  “It’s the dementia setting in,” Nick piped up. “You can’t remember what you looked like in the bathroom mirror this morning.”

  “You’re assholes,” Dom declared, shaking his head as he turned and sank down in the nearest available couch.

  “Now that’s an original insult right there.” I grabbed my beer, thanked the still starstruck bartender whose head was whipping between us like he was watching a tennis final and went to join Dom. “But don’t worry. We understand wit fades with old age.”

  Caleb carried his beer over to us, and Matt and Nick started to turn away from the bar when the guy finally got up the nerve to ask what I thought we all knew was coming. “Excuse me, Mr. Masters, Mr. Tillman, I’m not supposed to do this, but would you mind signing my copy of your last album?”

  No one was supposed to ask, but they all did. I was more amused by the guy calling them Mr. too. Looked like he hadn’t learned his lesson from his first slip.

  Matt’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Only if you call me Matt from now on. Or Supreme Master of Bass.”

  “Hold up,” Nick said, brow furrowing. “You bought the actual album? Like you didn’t just get on iTunes or whatever, and you actually have the album here with you?”

  Both guys nodded enthusiastically. One dropped down, disappeared behind the counter for a minute and popped back up, producing the CD of our last album and holding it proudly between two fingers. “It’s always in my backpack.”

  “Jesus.” Caleb pushed up from the couch and walked back over to the bar. “I honestly didn’t know people still bought this stuff.”

  “I still buy this stuff,” I pointed out. “Vinyls too.”

  “Don’t even get me started on you,” Caleb said, smirking at me over his shoulder.

  Nick pulled a Sharpie from his pocket, always prepared, and grinned his infamous “Thank you for your support” grin. We all had one. “Only the two of us or everyone?”

  “Everyone, if you don’t mind.” The guy’s voice was breathy, his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

  Nodding, Nick pulled out the sleeve and signed his name and then passed it and his Sharpie around to the rest of us. Once we’d all scribbled our names, he passed it back to the bartender. The guy stared down at it, blinking hard. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Matt said, finally coming over to where Dom and I were making ourselves comfortable. Our little display with the bartenders spurred a few more fans into action, coming up to us to talk or ask us to sign things.

  None of them lingered too long, though. The fans in here really were chilled out. They didn’t swamp us, try to jump on us, yell at us, or crowd us in.

  “I’m thirty,” a sultry voice said from behind me when the fans left, and it was just the band again. “Does that make me old?”

  Turning my head toward the voice, my eyes landed on three girls who were standing near where we’d been at the bar earlier. One of them, I assumed she was the one who’d spoken, lifted a manicured brow and made eye contact with each one of us before settling her gaze on mine. “Well?”

  “Age is a matter of the mind,” I drawled, spitting out the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t mind, so it doesn’t matter.”

  Dom punched me in the shoulder, rolling his eyes in exaggeration. “If I start wearing mini- skirts, do I get a free pass too?”

  I wasn’t sure if what the woman was wearing could qualify as a skirt, even a mini one. A large belt, maybe. She pulled it off, though. Her toned legs looked about a mile long, her skin tanned and smooth.

  Dark brown hair cascaded down her back, the shorter tendrils in front framing an elegant, statuesque face with forest green eyes surrounded by l
ong, ink-black lashes. Forest green eyes that were firmly locked on mine.

  She was gorgeous, but I wasn’t interested.

  Her two friends flanked her, both redheads wearing only slightly more modest skirts. They looked like sisters, maybe even fraternal twins, and as I glanced around at the guys, I could practically see the word threesome jump into every mind but mine.

  I elbowed Dom, drawing his attention back to me. “You’ll never get a free pass.”

  “Mind if we join you?” The girl asked, clearly not about to be forgotten.

  Nick swept his hand toward the open couches that rounded out the circle. “Have a seat.”

  The redheads exchanged coy smiles, taking him up on his offer and carrying their fruity looking drinks to the free seats. The brunette had other ideas. She sashayed up to us, lowering her fine ass onto the arm of the couch I was in.

  Damn it. Relationship or not, Alicia and Gerry were meeting us here, and this would look bad to her if she walked in to find this girl sitting a ball-hair’s breadth away from me. We were still on shaky ground, and I wasn’t losing her over another woman I didn’t even want.

  A warm hand snaked onto my shoulder, fingers caressing the ends of my hair. Crap.

  “Hey, Nick,” I called out, glancing around to see him sneaking a peek at her long legs. “Swap with me, would you? I wanna be able to keep an eye on the departure screen. Gerry will have a stroke if he got us here two hours early, and we still miss our flight.”

  He shot me a look that said he knew I was grasping at straws but shrugged and did as I asked. The brunette didn’t waste time. Almost immediately, it was Nick’s black hair she was threading her fingers through.

  Caleb, sitting beside me now, leaned over while Dom and Matt made conversation with the redheads. “I saw what you did there. Why didn’t you try anything with that girl? She was obviously down for it.”