“Please.” She tried to implore him with the bat of feminine lashes. At one point in their relationship it would’ve worked. “Do you realize you’re giving up your dream?”
Giving it up, letting it go, and never looking back.
“I do.” He turned and strode for the side-stage door. “And funnily enough, I’ll still be happier than I ever was with you.”
This was all because of his need to do right by people. He hadn’t pressed her for paternity. He’d blindly trusted someone he no longer cared for at the cost of someone he adored. No more. He was going to take a leaf out of Mason’s book. No. He was going to rip out every fucking page. If the lead singer of Reckless Beat could be an unscrupulous asshole in the name of getting what he wanted, Ryan was going to do the same.
His veins thrummed with the need to make shit happen.
He was done pandering—to Grander, to Leah’s boss, to life in general.
He shoved the door leading to the wings, and let the rush of chanting voices wash away the carnage. One by one he passed the crew, security, and approached his non-blood family.
This was where he belonged, with Leah by his side and his friends at his back. He strode for her shadowed form, shoving past Mason and Blake to grab her around the waist and steal a gasp from her mouth.
She pushed at him. “Stop.”
He didn’t. He took her fear and killed it with a kiss, molding his mouth against hers, parting her lips with a harsh swipe of tongue.
She shoved at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m saying fuck-you to the world.” He stared down at her without remorse. “Once I get off that stage things are going to change. I don’t care about Felicity or Julie or Grander. I won’t even give a shit about your god damn boss. I’m done, Leah. After this show, it’s all about us.”
“No.” Her gaze darted around at the witnesses standing in the shadows.
His friends glanced back and forth between them, and followed him as he walked backward onto the darkened stage, the technicians encroaching with guitars. As he stared at her, he mimicked a smirk he’d seen Mason pull too many times to remember. “Fight it all you like.” He kissed his fingertips and blew the love her way. “In a few hours, you’re mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Leah stood side-stage, taking in the crowd participation. She’d successfully batted away hysteria for the last two hours, scurrying away to different hiding places during their short set breaks.
“How many of you have downloaded Slicker’s album?” Mason’s shout resounded through the stadium, soon smothered by a wave of screams. “And how many of you fuckers haven’t?”
“Maybe we should take off our shirts to encourage more sales?” Blake crooned into the microphone.
“I don’t know about them—” Ryan leaned into Blake’s side, “—but I’d one-click to ensure you kept yours on.”
Mason glanced to the wings and met her gaze as he continued to chat up the crowd. She gave him a thumbs up, the simple gesture letting him know they’d reached their target, even if it was in an obscure way.
Scott had updated her with half-hourly sales reports, and the number of downloads was impressive but not enough to hit the mark. At least she hadn’t thought so, until she checked the retail sites and found Slicker featured under a bestselling header. They’d succeeded. They’d won. And the relief was merely a drop in an ocean of turmoil.
She didn’t know what had happened between Ryan and Julie. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. All she could think about was the ticking time bomb and how Ryan’s kiss in front of the crew had made the avalanche of destruction all the harder to bear.
Mason gave a jerk of his head and led Reckless into another song. She was beyond proud of her men. They were an unstoppable team—emotionally and successfully. Each of them had stolen a piece of her heart in a different way. Sean was the brick wall, the man who hid his soft heart behind a gruff exterior. Blake was the fighter, the strength who could endure hell and teach her the sun would always rise tomorrow. Mitch was the stoic soldier, holding his head high no matter what challenge came their way. And Mason was like a brother. She hated him at times and couldn’t help loving him in the same breath. Even though nobody else noticed, he was the glue keeping the band together. He just did it in the most abrasive way possible to keep his asshole reputation intact.
Then there was Ryan, the love and heart of Reckless. He was everything she wasn’t—sweet, kind, selfless. Too much perfection. He didn’t even have to speak, his unwavering compassion shone bright in his eyes. She’d never met a more generous man, and being with him, no matter how short the duration, would forever be a memory she would cherish.
But it was time to clean the mess she’d made.
She took in the sight of them on stage for one last time and tried to smile as her gaze skipped from one brilliant man to the next. Then she pivoted on her toes and made her way to the backstage hall, the weight of judgmental stares following her into the dressing room.
The next fifteen minutes were spent alone, strengthening her resilience and bolstering her resolve. When they barreled through the door, hyped with enthusiasm and covered in sweat, she stood from her seated position on the sofa and grinned like her world wasn’t ending.
“Congratulations.” She walked to the refreshments table and handed them all a bottle of water.
“How’d we do?” Mitch’s cheeks were flushed, the adrenaline making his breathing heavy.
“Slicker reached bestseller status on Amazon MP3 downloads and iTunes. Not only that, they also reached number one on their chart.”
“Number one?” Blake balked. “Bullshit.”
“Crazy, huh?” Her chuckle was half-hearted. “I think the rest of the world will have the same reaction when they see Slicker in the Classical genre.”
“Their shit isn’t classical by any stretch.” Mitch snorted.
“No, it definitely isn’t.” She turned her attention to Mason’s smirk, knowing he was the culprit. “What did you do?”
“I told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve. One of those was a man on the inside who agreed to tweak Slicker’s metadata.”
Mitch grinned. “Scott is going to be pissed.”
“Like I give a shit.” Mason drove an arm around Ryan’s neck and ruffled his hair. “You’re off the hook, motherfucker.”
Ryan responded with a shove of his elbow and a free-spirited grin. His elation was clear while she was steadfast in hiding her misery.
“Is it time to celebrate across the board?” Sean asked. “With the delay in getting your ass on stage, we assumed the two of you were sorting your shit out and doing some genital reconnaissance.”
“Soon.” Ryan met her gaze, his confidence taunting her need to argue. “We hit a slight detour when Julie showed up.” He shoved from Mason’s hold and walked toward her. “But we’re even more on track now than we were before.”
She shook her head and wandered behind the sofa, placing the furniture between them. “No. Not this time. All we’ve done is make a bigger mess.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He strolled after her. Unfazed. Unhurried. “Felicity and I can quit this charade tomorrow, and Julie and I will never see each other again.”
“What about the kid?” Sean asked.
“It isn’t mine.”
Ryan spoke without emotion, as if he hadn’t dropped a fifty-pound bombshell. She tried to read him, to determine if the fortitude in his eyes was born from his need for her, or the necessity to remain distracted from the new changes to his future.
“The divorce is going ahead without fault, and it’ll be just the two of us. You and me.”
His tone held a promise she wanted to grasp. Instead, she remained true to herself and her career, and stopped at the far end of the sofa, her shoe covered toes brushing the suitcase hidden from sight.
“Nothing is going to stop this now,” he continued. “We can hide if you want. Or
we can ditch the theatrics and demand what we’ve always wanted.”
“You can demand all you want, Ryan, but all it will do is drive us apart when I lose my job.” She leaned over and gripped the trolley handle of her luggage, extending it to the full height. “And we can’t hide, either. Even if I could trust Julie to remain quiet, you made the option impossible with your side-stage kiss.”
He stopped approaching, his gaze lowering to the handle in her fist.
“What’s with the suitcase?” Blake pinned her with the question but it was the stiffening of Ryan’s posture that put her on edge.
“You’re running again?” Mason snarled.
“No. Not running.” She shook her head. “This time I’m following orders. Bruce has demanded I take a temporary vacation. Otherwise, he’ll make it a permanent one.”
“You told him,” Ryan murmured.
She raised her chin, deflecting the disappointment in his tone. “I had to get on the front foot and inform him more drama might be coming our way from Julie.”
“Then take it back. Tell him you were mistaken.” He started approaching again, making her heart stutter with harsh beats. “Julie won’t talk. I promise you that.”
He kept promising. This time she didn’t believe him. She wouldn’t let herself. “I can’t. We all know I haven’t had the band’s best interests in mind. So I need a break. Dylan will meet you in Houston to take over my role for the rest of the tour.”
“Like hell he will.” Mason scowled. “Put your bag back on the bus. You’re not ditching us.”
She took his judgmental arrogance head on, not caring that it increased her defeat. She hadn’t anticipated the lead singer would act any differently. He couldn’t say, “Stay, I need you here.” Or, “Come on, Leah, we’ll stick by you, no matter what.” It wasn’t his style. But she heard the sentiment through his anger nonetheless.
“This is temporary.” She cut her gaze to Ryan, hoping he’d be kinder. What looked back at her was more punishing. He wasn’t angry or resentful, his eyes were filled with forgiveness and painful understanding.
He slowly nodded, his response subdued. “Do what you have to do. And I’ll do the same.”
The underlying threat slid down her back like molasses, the delicate authority ringing in her ears. She ignored it. She ignored everything—Blake’s heartbroken smile, Sean’s disapproving frown, Mitch’s wide, concerned eyes. “I’ll still be available to talk if you need me. Please call whenever…”
Her words drifted as Ryan turned his back to her, wordlessly gaining the attention of his friends.
“It’s time to get Plan A underway.” He gripped the back of the sofa and scrutinized his audience. “Are you guys still on board?”
Blake nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“I’m all for it,” Sean added.
“You know I’m in,” came from Mason.
“Mitch?” Ryan focused on the lead guitarist. “What about you?”
“Come on.” Mitch glared. “Do you really need to ask? I’ll do whatever it takes because I know you guys would do the same for me.”
“A simple yes would’ve sufficed,” Blake muttered. “This isn’t the Davies’ show.”
“What are you talking about?” Her voice was meek, barely audible over the sense of impending doom. They were all immersed in a conversation she didn’t understand, and wasn’t sure she wanted to. “What’s plan A?”
They ignored her, all five of them muttering among themselves, one over the top of the other, the noise coalescing—What was the plan again? Do you need us to do anything else? Are we doing this in the bus or a hotel?
“I’ll go with Ryan.” Mason spoke the loudest. “The three of you will have to deal with Leah.”
Have to deal with her? Was he striving for a blunt-force trauma to the balls?
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, and still they ignored her. Time for the big guns. She circled her thumb and pointer finger, placed them over the curl of her tongue and whistled loud enough to make them flinch. “Explain.”
Mitch, Blake, and Sean still had the respect to act apologetic. Mason, on the other hand, was smirking in defiance. But, as always, her interest came back to Ryan. Once she left, this could be the last time she was around him for months. There’d be no wavy, chin-length hair to fantasize about running through her fingers. There’d be no kissable lips to dream of, or hugs to strengthen her.
He was grinning now, his mouth curved in a delicious show of excitement that scared the hell out of her. She frowned at him, not knowing why or how he could be happy at a time like this, and released the grip on her suitcase as he approached.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she whispered. She could smell him, the mingled scent of sweat and aftershave. The deep breaths tattooed her lungs, warming the icy chill inside her as he ran one hand around her waist and pulled them together.
“Do you trust me?”
“Do I need to?”
He winced, the slightest fracture to his confidence. “I have a plan to solve our problems.”
“If it were that easy, I would’ve thought of it myself.”
His wince didn’t waiver. It still hung between them, increasing her heartbeat as the rest of the band listened on in silence. “It’s not easy. And it might not work. But I have faith it will. I wouldn’t risk everything if I wasn’t ninety-percent sure.”
“Everything? You mean my career, my life, and my future.” He wasn’t risking those things. His risk had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her.
He leaned in close, his breath brushing her ear. “You are my everything. You are all that matters and all I want. So yes, I’m risking everything, because nothing else is as important to me as you.”
She closed her eyes and battled to keep her head high. “Tell me the plan.”
“I can’t.”
She snapped her eyes open and met his gaze. “You want me to risk everything without even knowing what you’re doing?”
“I want you to trust me… And Mason, Sean, Mitch, and Blake. We all came up with the idea yesterday.”
She read those soulful eyes, trying to measure the risk. The only thing she could see was hope mixed with pleading.
“Are you going to do something stupid?”
“Probably. Will you forgive me if I do?”
She stared over his shoulder, at the men who were her family. At Mitch who had devastation written all over his face. At Blake who was guarded and resolute. At Sean who was smiling through his concern. And finally Mason, his superior brow taunting her like the tormenting brother he’d always been.
“I trust you, but—”
“That’s good enough for me.” Mason jerked his head at Sean. “Grab her suitcase. Take her to a hotel and do what we discussed.”
“Ahh.” She reached for the trolley handle and gripped tight. “Hotel? No.” The guys should be boarding the tour bus for Houston, and she’d already arranged for the jet to fly her out of here. “If I’m not in the air in two hours, I’ll lose my job before your plan is underway.”
“Our plan is already underway.” Ryan placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. A sweet, destroying kiss that had her toes curling in innumerable directions. Damn that mouth. Damn his appeal. “Just give me some time.”
He backtracked, leaving her mouth agape and her heart threatening to throw a tantrum while Sean wrestled the suitcase handle from her grip.
“We’ll accompany you outside, m’lady.” Mitch came to her free side and placed a hand at the low of her back. “But you might have to arrange a car. I’d have no idea who to call.”
She scowled at him, the little confidence she’d had slingshotting from the room with their lack of foresight. “Do any of you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m sure one of us does.” Sean squeezed past her, suitcase in tow.
“Come on.” Blake tried to shoo her forward. “Let’s get going.”
She couldn’t. Her feet refused to move. They wer
e going to do something senseless. Reckless, as their world-famous name suggested. “Ryan…” she implored.
“I’ll see you soon.” There was no kiss goodbye. No sweet farewell. He strode for the door, pausing inside the frame. “Remember, I love you.”
Jesus Christ. She parted her lips, poised to protest his departure, but Blake wrapped a hand around her mouth, silencing her call. He held her hostage as she wriggled, the fight soon leaving her body while the sound of Ryan and Mason’s footsteps disappeared down the hall.
“Relax,” Blake whispered in her ear and slowly slid his hand from her face. “Let him do what he needs to do.”
“And if my career gets shot down in flames?”
He gave a sad smile. “Then we all go down with you.”
After grabbing their overnight bags from the tour bus, Mitch, Sean, and Blake dragged her to a nearby hotel and booked the penthouse suite. Since then, she’d sat on a corner of the plush sofa, arms crossed, glaring at the muted television playing a movie none of them were paying attention to.
Blake was on the floor doing sit ups. Sean was staring straight ahead, eyes unblinking in a daze. And Mitch was on his phone, probably messaging Alana, who should be on the crew bus to Houston.
“I’m going to have to leave in ten minutes.”
“Sure thing.” Blake didn’t pause in his exercise count. “As long as we hear from Ryan by then.”
“And if we don’t?” The so-called plan had already taken an hour.
“Then you stay.” Sean mumbled, practically asleep with his eyes open.
“That doesn’t work for me.” She pushed to her feet. “The jet would already be waiting at the airport.” She’d already delayed the flight as long as possible and the sixty minutes of clock-stalking hadn’t been fun. Yes, she wanted this to work. She’d silently prayed Ryan’s plan fell into a neat little package of happily-ever-after, but time was running out.
“Not going to happen.” Sean still hadn’t blinked.
“It has to happen. Bruce expects to meet me first thing in the morning and I’m supposed to message him when I touch down.”
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