KADE: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance

by Jane Anthony

  My cheeks flush so bright I can see them turning red in the tiny square at the bottom of the screen. “It was better than I remember, Jen.” I roll to my side, leaning the phone against the headboard and cuddling next to the pillow that still holds the faint smell of him. Just his spicy masculine scent alone stirs up thoughts of our night together. My hands roaming the hard planes of his abs, the rough yet tender way he kissed me, and the passionate look in his eyes when his body finally invaded mine. For one heavenly night, we belonged to each other, and nothing can ever take that away from me. “He must have learned some new tricks in the last year.”

  “Ains, Kade hasn’t been with other women. The last person he slept with was you.”

  “Oh, please. You really expect me to believe Kade hasn’t had sex in . . .” I count the months on my fingers and continue. “ . . . sixteen months? The man could barely keep it in his pants for twenty-four hours.” Kade admitted he never slept with Misti, but as much as it makes me want to hurl, I imagined there had to be at least a few random women here and there.

  “It’s true, Ainsley. I’m shocked he didn’t blow his load the second you took your pants off.” Banger’s voice cuts through the room, shocking the hell out of me.

  I sit up straight, knocking the pillow to the floor in secret shame. “Jenny, you aren’t seriously talking about my sex life in front of Banger.”

  Light aqua eyes fill the tiny screen on my phone as Banger steps behind Jenny. “Please, like I haven’t heard it in person, like, a hundred times. Kade’s a complicated guy. That God’s gift to the world thing he’s got goin’ on is an act.” I swallow hard and listen as Kade’s oldest friend and confidant spills his secrets to me over the World Wide Web. “Inside that big dude is a little boy who’s scared, unloved, and unwanted. You ignoring him like this is doing messed-up things to his mind.”

  Unloved and unwanted? My brows knit together. “What kind of messed-up things?”

  “He’s not torturing kittens or anything.” Banger laughs. “He’s torturing himself, though. Big time. I’ve never seen him like this. He doesn’t know how to control this powder keg of emotions piling up inside him, and eventually, it’s just going to explode. Trust me when I tell you, the man loves you more than you give him credit for, and that love is as strong and loyal as the man himself.”

  “I know he does,” I whisper, afraid that if I speak full volume, the tears pricking my eyes will spill over. I never meant to hurt Kade, but he doesn’t understand. He can’t possibly comprehend the pain I’ve felt every day since that stupid letter showed up. Maybe Bob is just trying to hurt me because he’s angry, but what kind of mother would I be if I said “hell with it” and kept seeing Kade knowing that Shay might end up living with a man who only wants her to hurt me? A man who never wanted her to begin with?

  As a parent, I would do anything for my child. I’d go hungry, thirsty, or without shelter if it meant one second of happiness for her. I’d take a bullet, even jump in front of a moving train if I knew it would protect her. I love Kade, but I love Shay more.

  CHAPTER 37

  Kade

  THE CAP ON my head shields me from the cold. I lift the collar on my flannel coat and shove my hands in my pockets as I barrel through the crowded city sidewalk. I had an appointment with some financial people this morning, but all I’m thinking about now is Ainsley.

  I didn’t hear from her all week. I’ve apologized to her a hundred times, but she’s avoiding me, and I’m losing my mind without her. I sit in my room like a rat in a cage, compulsively fixating on shit that I can’t change.

  What if I was standing in a different spot the day Bob came barging in her house?

  What if I never hit Bob in the first place?

  What if I didn’t pop off that hateful comment at the diner?

  The what-ifs are driving me insane, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to see her and make this right. I can’t go another second without laying eyes on her face or smelling her skin.

  The shrill ringing of the phone startles me out of my thoughts, and I bark into it more gruffly than I intend to. Banger always has a habit of calling me when I’m aggravated. “What?”

  “Nice to hear from you, too, dick. I got your messages. What’s up?”

  The entire story pours out of my mouth start to finish. I’m not the type of guy who talks feelings with other guys, but I need Banger’s backup. Bob’s bullshit has thrown a wrench in the works, but I’ve already set the wheels in motion, and I can’t pull back now. “I’m in sad shape dude. I have one song written for the album. I’m letting everyone around me down because I can’t get my shit together.”

  “And you really think keeping Ainsley is going to make everything right for you?”

  “Without a doubt, bro.”

  Being with her the other night flipped a switch in my closed-off mind, and the lyrics burst out of me like a rocket. Since everything fell to hell, I haven’t been able to think of a single thing. Some artists need booze or drugs to get their creative juices flowing, but all I need is her. She turns me into a better version of myself.

  “She’s got a kid, dude. You really ready for that dose of reality?”

  I swallow hard. Kids. The word alone is enough to strike fear in the hearts of men like me everywhere. The very idea of being called “daddy” made my skin crawl. I think back to the day I asked Ainsley to give up everything to come back to California to be with me. Being here with her and Shay, seeing how they interact and how special their bond is, made me realize what I was truly asking Ainsley to give up. I only wanted her. Shay wasn’t part of the deal. “Yeah. Ready and willing.”

  “All right. You don’t need me telling you this plan is lunacy. I’m sure you already know it. But if you think it’ll work, I’m with ya.”

  Banger always has my back. He, JJ, and Konner. My brothers. We’ve been through it all together. Everyone told us we were crazy when we dropped out of school and moved to Los Angeles, but we jumped in Konner’s shitty old Winnebago and hit the highway. We made the trip cross-country from Georgia to California and never looked back. The four of us lived on a steady diet of dreams, sweat, and determination. Not making it was never an option, and when we hit the strip, our blackened souls shined like diamonds. Our entire foundation was built on risks. What I’m proposing is huge, but I know they’ll be on board.

  “Thanks, bro. Make sure that wife of yours keeps her yap shut. Just for now.”

  I stand at the corner watching the countdown on the pedestrian crosswalk sign. The second the electric sign turns from a hand to a person, hordes of people move across the road like locusts.

  My brisk pace slows as I approach the gallery, wiping my sweaty palms on my jacket before reaching for the door. I’m jonesing for her like a dope addict who needs a fix. A blast of warm air hits me in the face as I enter. It’s larger than it appears from the outside. The natural hardwood floors are buffed to a high gloss shine, and track lighting stretches across the parameters of the ceiling, highlighting the framed works of art that line the soothing off-white walls. It’s peaceful and so quiet you can hear a pin drop. It’s the antithesis of my chaotic world. No wonder she hated being on tour.

  I pull off my hat and run my fingers through my hair as I walk around. My knowledge of art is nil, but I’m mesmerized as I follow the path, drinking it all in as I go. There’s so much beauty; it’s awe-inspiring.

  Turning the corner, I see her in the glass-enclosed room at the end of the hall. She’s wearing a charcoal gray dress that hugs her curves all the way down to her knees. A belt surrounds her tiny waist, and her tights are so black I can’t tell where they end and where her shoes begin. Her dark hair is swept up in a neat twist behind her head, and the sexy blonde streak is combed across her forehead and tucked behind her ear. She fits in among the art like she’s part of it. Classy and sophisticated. Watching her, surrounded by all this, I feel unworthy. I’m overcome by the notion that she’s too good for me. I finally understand w
hat Bob meant by his jab. I’m ignorant trash who has no place in her educated world.

  She peers down at the binder in her hands then looks back up. I see her pointing, delegating a task to someone in the room. She turns her head and smiles as someone else grabs her attention. I watch a slender man embrace her. He lingers too long, his hands brushing her bare arm. My mouth goes dry as my fingers mindlessly wring the hat in my hand.

  The beard catches my eye. The Aussie fuck.

  Still smiling at whatever it is he’s saying, she points at things around the room as he nods and gestures, all the while his hand is on her back. The urge to do harm explodes through my gut like a bomb. I count to ten in my head, willing myself to calm the hell down, but I can’t. The jealous monster inside me is eating its way out, and I need to remove myself from this situation.

  My eyes stay fixed on them as I back up slowly. Squeezing my lids shut, my head whips around like I’ve just witnessed a horror movie as I turn and glide out of the gallery. The dynamic city seems to move in slow motion. Trails appear to lag behind as people pass by. I’m almost running as I make my way to the parking garage, desperately wanting to get off the street and get to a place where I can work off this surge of aggression in solitude.

  I drive back to New Jersey on autopilot. When the car finally stops, I take in my surroundings and realize I’m not where I’m supposed to be.

  The wind rustles through the leaves in Ainsley’s quiet neighborhood. I shouldn’t be here, but my hands twitch with inactivity, and I cannot get back in that car without releasing this bottled-up energy.

  I wonder if she has an ax.

  She’s not due home for a few hours. I’ll get my mind straight then go back to the hotel.

  CHAPTER 38

  Ainsley

  ALL I WANT is a glass of wine and my butt on the couch in front of the E! network. I feel like I spent eight solid hours on my feet getting the gallery organized for the fundraiser, and I’m so glad this day is over.

  The view of Kade’s car in the driveway causes a minor panic attack. He can’t be here. I step out of my Jeep, but he’s nowhere to be found. A repeated cracking noise rings through the air as I unlock the door and wander through the house, rehearsing in my head various ways to tell him to leave. But the continuous noise calls to me from the backyard.

  Kade’s back is to me as he stands wide-legged and poised over a log. Powerful thighs tense under his faded dark jeans. A flannel jacket is thrown to the side and lays forgotten on the ground. Biceps bulge and back muscles ripple under his shirt as the ax he holds over his head comes crashing down, sending two chunks of wood falling on either side with a plink.

  With little effort, he grabs another piece and wields the ax forcefully again, grunting as it makes contact. He picks up the freshly cut pieces, hurls them into a neat pile next to my shed, and the entire process repeats.

  Grunt, crack, plink

  Grunt, crack, plink

  His strength is mesmerizing. I can’t take my eyes off him. Sweat glistens on his arms and drips off his hair onto the damp shirt clinging to his body. He’s all man and pure sex wrapped up in one tantalizing package that’s all mine for the taking.

  The images that swamp my mind aren’t just dirty; they’re downright pornographic. Every grunt launches an all-out blitzkrieg in my already throbbing core. Forget throwing him out. I’d rather him throw me down and have his way with me.

  I saunter through the yard closer to him. “Whatcha doin’ here, lumberjack?”

  The ax falls from his grasp to the mulch-covered ground by his feet. Black boots crunch on the shards of bark underneath them as he makes a slow turn to face me. His chest expands and contracts, a white cloud blowing from his mouth with every heavy breath he takes. Protruding veins slither around his rigid forearms as the blood pumps through them. Manic eyes, dark as midnight, flash as his gaze penetrates me so hard I can feel it. I’ve witnessed this look a dozen times. He’s morphed from my gentle giant into Crazy Kade.

  A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat as a sneer waves across his delicious lips. They crash against mine so fast I lose my balance, but his rough grasp catches me. Our teeth gnash together; his tongue darts into my mouth, kissing my lips like he’s punishing them. A heady mix of sweat, wood, and spice cling to his shirt as he holds me tight against him in his burning embrace. I can feel the thick ridge of his erection press against my stomach, and I want it. No, I need it. Bad.

  As usual, he reads my thoughts, tearing his mouth from mine and bending me over the enormous pile of lumber while ripping at my already damp tights and pulling them down with my help. He barely has his pants down before plunging every inch into me with one swift movement. I mewl out a mangled mix of sounds from pleasure and pain as the unrelenting thrusting continues. My hands press against the walls of the shed to hold myself taut, accepting everything he has to give. Wood scrapes against my knees, but the sensation of him moving inside me is so great I barely notice.

  The blaze builds in my stomach as my climax approaches fast and furious. “Don’t stop.” My breathy plea floating through the cold air only seems to make him more aggressive. Whatever hurt him, whatever is plaguing his complicated mind, I’ll take it, absorb it within me, and free him from the burden of it.

  His palm comes down hard on my ass cheek, the sting of it eliciting a joyful cry. He gnarls like an animal in response. This is the rough, tawdry sex I’ve grown to expect from him. My legs become weak. The world starts to spin. My eyes jam shut as I come apart around him, exploding with the fire of a thousand suns.

  The gratified wail of his name echoes through the yard, and Kade’s incessant pounding comes to an abrupt halt. I still feel him, big and thick, riding high deep inside me as my insides shimmy and shake. He didn’t come yet. Breathless and panting, I look back. His eyes lock on mine with a hard, frigid glare that turns my scalding desire to ice.

  “Who’s the one who makes you come?”

  “You are.”

  Fingers bite into my hips so hard it hurts. “The only one?”

  “Yes, Kade.”

  “Good. You only come because I let you. Don’t forget it.”

  His body rips from mine, leaving me bare-assed, freezing in the wind and utterly confused. I hike up my tattered tights, watching him disappear into the house. He’s mad at me? Oh, hell no! He’s the one turning my life upside down, not the other way around.

  The ground crunches underfoot as I march to my back door. He may be pissed, but now so am I. “What the hell was that?” The door slams behind me as I storm into the house after him.

  He hovers in the dining room as if he’s waiting for me. As if he purposely left me out there, exposed and humiliated, expecting me to follow him.

  The manipulative son of a bitch.

  “You’re mine, Ainsley. I told you already. I don’t fucking share.” He bites out the last bit through his teeth like a rabid beast. His hands twist and turn at his sides, and the veins in his neck bulge and throb. I’ve seen the change that comes over him when he’s upset, but I’ve never seen him quite this twitchy before.

  His tone fuels my angry fire. “Let’s get something straight here, Kade. You don’t own me . . .” My finger jams into his heaving chest as he looks down at me with a scowl. His intimidation tactics may work on everyone else, but they do not work on me. I know him too well. “ . . . and I definitely don’t like what you’re implying. You’d better start talking or get the hell out of my house.”

  He doesn’t move. His nostrils flare, and his irises slowly return to blue from black. “I saw you and Crocodile Dundee at the gallery. His hands were all over you.”

  “You came to my job?”

  “You refused to talk to me, A. I needed to see you.”

  Now, it all makes sense. The crazy eyes, the savage chopping, the possessive way he took control when he saw me. He’s jealous. He was channeling his aggression, and then I showed up.

  “So you were marking your territory. Why
not just piss a circle around me while you’re at it?” The anger begins to rise in my esophagus like bile. His behavior was deplorable and completely unacceptable. “F.Y.I, Eric’s presence at the gallery was strictly business. He is one of the artists being showcased at the fundraiser.”

  Kade doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like a wounded child as I continue to berate him like one. “You cannot act like an animal every time another man comes near me! What the hell is wrong with you? How do you go from being the kindest, gentlest man I know to hate-fucking me in my own backyard? Where does all this hostility even come from?”

  Defeated, he falls to his knees at my feet, wrapping his arms around my middle so tight it hurts to breathe. “Ainsley, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. My demons always seem to catch up to me no matter how far I run from them.”

  His damp hair flops in random directions on top of his head as I run my fingers through it. On his face, a picture show of emotions rotates one by one. “Kade, talk to me.”

  When he finally opens his mouth to speak, I’m unprepared for what he has to say.

  CHAPTER 39

  Kade

  “EVERYTHING I’VE TOLD you about my family was nothing but lies.”

  Ever since the band took off, my life has been on display for all to see. Nothing is sacred. I’ve spent my entire career formulating the quick responses to questions about my past. The trick is to give enough of the flowery details that people want to hear so they don’t notice that you’ve literally given them no real information. It’s always worked, and it always will.

  When Ainsley asked about my childhood, I gave her the same bullshit answer I always give. People love the Army brat story. They adore hearing how close my parents and I were and how their untimely death ultimately led me to success in their honor. I’ve polished it over the years like a smooth stone. So much so that I even believe it myself sometimes. Truth is, it’s a fucking joke.