Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

by Chase, Deanna

  “I can live with that.” He continued to stare at her like he wanted to remove honey from other parts of her body until Aaron called him back to the game.

  Becca retreated to the kitchen, every inch of her skin flushed with arousal. If she’d had any doubts about taking things to the next level, Ethan had just erased them. But she had to take things slowly or she risked having all this blow up in her face.

  Take your time, Becca. You don’t want a quick fuck to jeopardize the trust you’ve built so far.

  But one thing was certain. Ethan Kelly knew how to push her buttons in all the right ways.

  Chapter Seven

  As much as Ethan tried to focus on the game he was playing with Levi and Aaron, the sweet taste of Becca’s finger in his mouth kept ambushing him. Now that was a craving he could easily become addicted to. He’d love to sample other parts of her, starting with her lips. And then, if he worked up his courage, he could invite her back to his place for the main course.

  But the moment he thought about her in his bed, his palms grew damp. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made love to a woman sober. Hell, he’d lost his virginity while drunk and stoned at a party. Years of being on the road didn’t leave much time for a long-term relationship, and one-night flings had become his norm. After a few beers or a quick shot of H, he no longer cared that he didn’t have someone special to come home to. He had a warm body for the night, and that was all that had mattered.

  Until now.

  He was twenty-five. Not quite ready to settle down, but ready to actually give a serious relationship a try. And Becca was a girl worth taking that risk for.

  Now, to get over the performance anxiety issues.

  One of the blondes—Natalie, he thought—handed him a bottle of hard apple cider. He set it aside, untouched, and continued playing until the front door opened, and a guy shouted, “Shanah Tovah, bitches!”

  Levi and Aaron threw down their controllers and went to greet the new arrivals. Four more guys and three more girls poured into the apartment, and the atmosphere changed from a few friends hanging out to a full-on party. Voices filled the room, vying with the ever louder music that pumped in from the built-in surround-sound speakers. Becca’s roommate circled the room with a tray of appletinis, and Becca appeared from the kitchen with a platter of steaming chicken.

  “Time for the next course,” she announced over everyone. “Pomegranate chicken.”

  Ethan’s mouth watered from the sweet and savory aromas that filled the apartment. He got in line behind the others for a slice of the roasted chicken covered with a tangy red sauce and chunks of fresh pomegranate. “You made this?” he asked.

  Becca nodded. “Amazing what an electric roaster can do.”

  He ate a bite. It tasted even better than it smelled. “Is this another tradition?”

  “Yes. The pomegranate symbolizes a new year full of good deeds.” She looked out at her guests, who were busy chatting and drinking with their friends. “Although I wished we could’ve done the Kiddush before they dived in.”

  “This is our party, not our parents’,” her roommate said, grabbing another slice of chicken. “We don’t have to do all the stuffy traditional stuff. If you wanted that, then you should’ve had dinner with your family.”

  Becca blinked hard and turned away, but not before he caught a glimpse of pain on her face. Something her roommate said had hurt her, and he found himself reaching to comfort her before he could stop himself.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She flashed a half-hearted smile to him. “You?”

  He glanced around the room and nodded. “Yeah, I am, actually.”

  “Good.” Her smile warmed, and she handed him a bottle of water. “I need to get back to the kitchen to start the next course.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  A moment later, Levi was dragging him back into the group and introducing him to the new arrivals. Ethan stood on the fringes, listening and only speaking when asked a question. He nursed his bottle of water instead of guzzling hard cider down like the other guys. And even though his reclusive inner nature recoiled at the idea of a party full of strangers, he found himself warming up to Becca’s friends as quickly as he had to her.

  A knock could barely be heard over the noise, but Becca went to answer it. A man carrying two guitars—one strapped to his back and the other in his hand—entered the party and gave her a hug.

  The jealousy that flared within Ethan’s gut as they talked surprised him. What if this was her boyfriend? What if he was falling for a girl who was already with someone? Was that why Becca had been hiding out in the kitchen all night? He crossed the room to learn more about the latest guest.

  The man was removing the electric guitar strapped to his back when he got there. “Who’s this, Becca?” he asked, eyeing Ethan as more of a curiosity than competition.

  “This is my friend Ethan.”

  Friend. The word stung harder than a slap in the face. He should be grateful she considered him a friend, but now he wanted more.

  The man held out his hand. “Hi, Ethan. I’m David.”

  He took his time accepting the hand, the unease pounding through his veins as he studied the latest arrival. David was dressed in a nice button-down shirt and khakis and had a full beard that made his age difficult to guess.

  Becca stood with one hand placed on each man’s shoulders, gauging their reactions to each other with a hopeful grin. “David’s a musician, too, Ethan. He’s finishing up his cantorial studies at the HUC.”

  Nice to know, but it still didn’t answer the one question that jabbed the corners of his mind like a pissed-off hornet.

  “Becca,” Ari called from the kitchen, “the brisket.”

  Her face paled. “Oh, no.” She dashed off, leaving him alone with the man who might be her boyfriend.

  “So, Ethan, what do you play?”

  He was trying to make small talk, but Ethan couldn’t relax. “Guitar, mostly. But I also play piano, drums, trumpet.”

  “Nice. Have you ever thought about playing for the Temple?”

  “He can’t,” Morgan answered for him, slipping her arm through David’s. “He’s a shegetz.”

  David’s smile widened. “Any chance of converting?”

  “Not likely.”

  “Too bad,” David replied, ignoring Morgan’s attempts to pull him away from the door. “We could use some more musicians.”

  The blonde interrupted with a huff and roll of her eyes. “Can’t this wait?”

  He soothed her with a kiss on the cheek. “Give me a minute, hon.”

  The tightness in Ethan’s forearms eased. From the looks of things, David had his hands full with Morgan.

  “But you’ve been gone all day with that thing at the Temple.” She gave him the spoiled rich girl simper.

  “Yes, and I’ll be with you in just a minute. I haven’t even taken my coat off.”

  Morgan’s pout deepened, but she backed away holding up a single finger. “One minute.”

  “Sorry about that,” David said with a sheepish shrug as he slipped off his coat. “She’s upset because I’d promised to play for the afternoon services and couldn’t be here when the party started.”

  “Is that why you have two guitars?” Ethan leaned to the side to get a better look at the cases, recognizing the brands. Fender. Martin. Signs of a serious musician.

  “Yeah.” He hung up his coat in the closet. “Maybe we can jam later. I have an app that turns my phone into an amp.”

  An icy blast of fear paralyzed him. It was one thing to not be able to play when he was alone, but to freeze up in front of Becca’s friends was an entirely different matter. He wasn’t ready to make a fool of himself just yet. “Maybe,” he said in a tight voice.

  He was saved by Levi shouting, “Becc
a’s bringing out the brisket.”

  The party guests gathered around the dining room table, where Becca carved up the medium rare slab of beef into thin slices. The outside was covered by a blackened glaze, and a small bowl held what looked like a dark barbecue sauce. Ari added a salad made with baby greens, pomegranate seeds, and apples. The other women poured out of the kitchen with the rest of the sides such as mashed sweet potatoes, candied carrots, round loaves of challah, and green peas. Once everything was set, they loaded up their plates.

  As Ethan tasted the dishes, he noted the sweetness of each one and inwardly grinned. Becca’s sweet tooth would be in heaven tonight. Even the salad was tossed in a honey vinaigrette.

  After she’d filled her plate, Becca gestured for him to meet her at the dining bar that looked into the kitchen. “Like it so far?”

  “Best food I’ve eaten since I came into town.” And he meant that. The takeout he’d been living on was sawdust compared to a home-cooked meal. Once again, her generosity had humbled him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “I told you my friends were cool.” She gave him a wink and popped a sliced carrot into her mouth. “By the way, I hope you don’t mind me telling David you’re a musician.”

  “No, not really.” He was more upset about being introduced as a friend, despite his head telling him “friend” was good enough considering how long they’d known each other.

  “I figured since he was a musician, too, he might be able to help you find the music again.”

  “Doubt it.” But her suggestion hovered around him like a swarm of gnats for the rest of the meal, never giving him a moment’s peace until he was forced to get up and go out on the balcony to clear his head.

  The crisp autumn air cooled his frustration. The setting sun bathed Central Park and the rest of the city in an orange glow. From this height, everything appeared calm and serene, and his soul followed suit. The balcony was more of a large patio that ran the length of the apartment, wide enough to allow two lounge chairs and a bistro set. It would be perfect for summer barbecues, but right now, the openness contrasted with the crowded confines inside. Here, he could see the sky and collect himself.

  He didn’t bother turning around when he heard the door open behind him. Becca was the only one who’d dare come out there to join him.

  But it was a male voice that said, “Care to have that jam session now?”

  Ethan turned around to find David sliding two chairs together next to a pair of acoustic guitars. “What about the rest of the party?”

  “It’s too loud in there. Besides, if we start playing, they’ll join us.” He opened one of the cases. “Do you prefer the Martin or the Taylor?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He doubted his fingers would remember the chords.

  “You can use Ari’s.” David handed him the practically new Taylor and opened the hard case of the Martin. “Or, if you prefer, I can give up my Martin for a bit.”

  “It’s really not necessary.” He tried to hand the guitar back, but David refused to take it. “I haven’t been much in the mood for playing lately anyway.”

  “That’s a pity. Music always soothes me.” He strummed the strings and closed his eyes.

  Ethan recognized the beginning chords of the Beatles song. His fingers wrapped around the neck of the guitar in his hand, moving in time to the transitions, but it took a gulp of courage to run the pick over the strings and join in. David’s clear baritone filled the night with a sharpness that cut away the guilt and doubt imprisoning Ethan’s soul. The chains binding his music broke, leaving behind the weightless joy he remembered from his youth.

  By the time David got to the chorus, Ethan joined in. The resulting harmony surprised him. He’d been the lead singer for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to play backup, and yet the hard edge of his voice mingled perfectly with David’s classically trained one. The unadorned quality reminded him he still had a decent voice, and the impromptu jam session was miles away from the glare of the center stage spotlight. Maybe he could make music without Ty, without drugs, without the complex sound engineering provided by the studio.

  Becca’s friend gave him an encouraging smile before launching into the next verse. When the chorus rolled around again, his confidence grew, and he carried over the harmony from his voice to his guitar. The challenge was fun and refreshing, and the corners of his mouth started to rise.

  He’d rediscovered his love for music.

  “You sure you won’t consider converting?” David said as they finished. “I’d love to have you in the Temple band.”

  “Thanks, but I just got out of a band, and I’m taking a little time off for me.” He strummed the strings once and resisted the urge to hug the borrowed guitar. “You up for another?”

  “Absolutely. You pick.”

  Ethan searched his mind for a song that wasn’t a Ravinia’s Rejects tune and went with another classic Extreme song perfect for two voices and acoustic guitars. He set his pick aside and used his fingers to form the opening chords.

  “Good one.” David played along, but when it came time for the words, he nodded and said, “This one’s all yours.”

  It’s just Becca’s friend on a balcony, not a crowded stadium. You can do this.

  The first few notes warbled with a gravelly tone, a result of weeks of inactivity, but he recovered by the second line and lost himself in the music. It wasn’t until they reached the end that he realized they’d gathered an audience.

  Heat rose up his neck to the tips of his ears. All this time, he’d been trying to lay low, and now he might have lost his anonymity by opening his mouth. He searched the crowd who’d gathered around, looking to see if any of them recognized him. But the second he saw Becca’s beaming face, all thoughts about protecting his privacy vanished. She seemed so proud of him, he didn’t care what the others thought. Only her opinion mattered.

  “That was awesome,” the guy who’d made the loud entrance said, holding up a lighter. “Keep it comin’, bros.”

  “Can we move it inside?” Morgan asked as she rubbed her bare arms. “It’s a little chilly out here.”

  “No problem.” David rose, carrying his guitar, but Ethan remained in his seat.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been ready to relapse, to surrender to heroin just so he could find the solace it gave him. But all this time, the music was right there for him to grasp. He just had to shed the trappings he’d secured around it and recover the essential core.

  I can really do this. I can still play and stay clean.

  Now the challenge would be to create new music without relying on his former muse.

  “Are you coming, Ethan?” Becca asked softly.

  He turned to find her standing beside him with her hand held out.

  He took it and stood up, finding the strength to keep moving forward because of her support. “Yeah, I am.”

  She leaned in and whispered, “I’m glad you found the music again.”

  If he didn’t have an audience on the other side of the glass doors, he would’ve pulled her into a kiss right then. Instead, he settled for tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Me, too.”

  Once inside, he and David took turns playing classic rock songs for the group and entertaining a few of their requests. It was fun until Ari called out one of his band’s songs. Ethan drew in a deep breath and held it. If he catered to the request, he once again risked blowing his cover.

  “I don’t know that one very well,” David said. “Do you know it, Ethan?”

  He nodded, not trusting his own voice. He searched for Becca, but couldn’t find her. Fear wormed along his gut.

  I have to do this alone.

  But as his gaze swept the room and he saw David’s encouraging nod, it dawned on him that he wasn’t alone. He strummed the opening chords from memory. The acoustic g
uitar was softer, slower than the electric guitar he was used to playing for that song, but it allowed him to do the same with the lyrics. A rasp of emotion filled his voice as he sang the opening verse of the song. It was the first Ravinia’s Rejects song he’d sung since Ty had died, and the solemn quality it took on with the acoustic guitars fit his mood. It was a eulogy of sorts, a way for him to say good-bye to the past.

  David joined in, but the sound wasn’t the same as when Ty had played harmony. It was different, but in a good way. As the song drew to a close, his fingers itched to play new music, to twist and shape the chords into an expression of conflict raging inside him.

  “Whoa,” Ari said, her eyes wide. “That was even better than the original.”

  It had better be, considering I was the one who wrote it.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled and rose from his chair. He needed to find Becca. “Time for a little break.”

  “Same here.” David set his guitar aside and pulled Morgan into his arms.

  The loud techno music from earlier blasted through the speakers just as Becca appeared from behind a closed door with a stack of paper. She beckoned him over, and he came, still clutching her roommate’s guitar.

  “I heard the new arrangement, and it got me to thinking. Maybe you should make some notes.” She held out a stack of blank sheet music. “I printed these off for you, but if you need more…”

  The woman could read him better than he did himself. He took the stack and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Do you have a quiet place I could hang out in?”

  “You can use my bedroom.” She opened the door she’d just come out of.

  “Thanks.” He held her gaze for a moment to make sure she knew the full extent of his gratitude. She’d helped him overcome a major hurdle to his recovery, and he finally felt like he was moving forward.

  Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “You’re welcome.”

  Becca’s room was simple and serene, much like her. The blue colors and clean lines quieted his anxiety and sharpened his focus. He sat down on the edge of the bed with Ari’s guitar and jotted down the notes for the new arrangement. His pen halted when he read the line she’d written at the top of each page.