by Megan Derr
"Thanks, Coop." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're gonna have to tell me about your sweetheart, later. I ain't never known you to bother getting a number."
"We'll see."
She smiled briefly as she settled back and closed her eyes. Cooper turned the radio up just a little bit, humming and sing along softly as he settled into driving and braced for whatever came next. Maybe he'd text Dai when they stopped for gas, see how he was doing. A stupid little thought shouldn't be so cheering, but hell if it wasn't.
Track 03
Wanna Wear You to Bed
Dai scowled when someone knocked on the door. Who the fuck was bothering him? It was Saturday fucking morning, and his only plans involved a bowl of Lucky Charms and whatever the fuck he found on TV.
Hauling to his feet, taking his cereal with him, he wended through the living room, the hall, and to the back door in the kitchen. He yanked it open and then stepped out of the way as his brother Jason slipped inside. Only Jason would be dressed to the nines on a Saturday morning. "You're such a goddamn loser."
"Good morning to you as well," Jason replied and set a thick manila envelope on the counter. "Read through those. I want them back signed or with notes by next Saturday. You were supposed to come by the office this week. Why didn't you?"
Dai shrugged. "I was busy—that's why I called your secretary and told her to cancel the appointment and that I'd be in on Monday. I'm so fucking sorry you couldn't wait a few extra days. Are these the new merch contracts?"
"Yes," Jason said, going to Dai's fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. "Among other things."
Grabbing the envelope, Dai carried it to the kitchen bar and sat down. "Get me the milk while you're over there."
Jason grunted a rude reply as he poured his orange juice but brought the milk to Dai after he'd put the juice away. Dai poured a second bowl of cereal and ate it while he started flipping through papers. "Why didn't you just take this stuff straight to Jet? You know he's the one who's going to nitpick it to death and make you hate your life."
"More than I already hate dealing with Forever and a Dai?" Jason asked as he sat down next to Dai at the bar. "One, I'm dropping the paperwork with you because there is no point in trying to wake Jet up this early when I know you guys probably didn't even go to bed until four a.m. Two, I'm headed out of town to deal with a client that is actually more melodramatic than you lot, and I won't be back until Wednesday at the earliest. So make certain those papers get signed. If there are terms Jet doesn't like, he can make an appointment and keep it."
Dropping his spoon in his bowl, Dai gave Jason a half-assed salute with two fingers. "Yes, boss. What the fuck client is more difficult than us?"
"Friends of yours, actually. Brite Knights."
Dai winced. "Better you than me."
"They're lucky they make enough money to be worth keeping alive." He slapped a hand on the papers. "I mean it: get this done."
"Yeah, yeah. Go the hell away and let me eat my cereal in peace."
Jason grimaced at the cereal but said nothing. Leaving his glass in the sink, he mimicked Dai's flippant salute and left. Dai listened to the growl-purr of Jason's Camaro roll down his driveway, then refilled his bowl again and returned to the living room.
His phone screen was still lit when he sat down, and he snatched it up before he sat. When he saw the name on the screen, he smiled and abandoned his cereal.
Awake yet? Cooper asked.
Yep. But not dressed :3
Don't rub it in.
Dai smirked. Point is to rub one out.
Don't make me do that neither. I got work. Then I'm getting dragged out to schmooze and go to some crazy club.
You go to clubs?
Not by choice. But Jake and Callie are insistent, and I ain't gonna ruin their good moods by arguing. Why are you already awake on a Saturday?
Cereal and TV were lonely. And my brother dumped some work on me.
No reply immediately came, so Dai set the phone aside and finished his cereal, then flipped through channels until he settled on a cake baking contest. He did not constantly check his phone for a reply. He and Cooper had been texting, and talked on three occasions, for almost two months. Long pauses were completely typical of both of them. He was definitely past the whole anxiously check every ten seconds stage.
He always waited fifteen seconds at least, and sometimes got all the way to thirty.
The phone chimed, and he snatched it up. Gotta go. Jake thinks he's found us a replacement for Henry. I don't believe it, but I don't want to dash hopes this early. TTYL, honey.
Good luck!
Dai dropped the phone back on the table, pulled an afghan down from the back of the couch, and proceeded to vegetate. He stirred only to piss and heat up something for lunch.
When his phone buzzed a little after two, he picked it up with a sigh, hoping for Cooper but anticipating Jet. Sure enough, Jet's name flashed on the screen, and right below it was the warning: Coming over. Tell your hookers to leave or pay them to stay longer. ETA 15.
I don't want you here.
Too damn bad. We got business and then we're going out.
Dai groaned but didn't bother arguing. Kicking off his blanket, he gathered up his dishes and dropped them off in the kitchen before heading down the hall to his bedroom. Getting showered and shaved, he pulled on a pair of black jeans, grabbed a t-shirt, and hauled back to the front of the house just as he heard Jet's Aston Martin pull into the drive. "I don't want to go clubbing," he said as Jet climbed out of the car.
"Suck it the fuck up," Jet replied, and gave Dai a light shove so he could step into the kitchen. He closed the door and dropped a messenger bag and a six-pack of a local stout he liked on the counter. "You've been holed up in here for three days doing fuck all; you're gonna forget how to be social, and I need you not cranky before we do that stupid event on Thursday."
"Why are we doing it if it's so stupid?"
"Because money, money, money," Jet said. "And it really pisses off Hard Play when they have to cooperate with us."
"Cooperating pisses us off, too," Dai replied and swiped a beer. "Contract shit is over there. I assume that's the business you were talking about."
Jet nodded, grabbed his bag, and bustled over to the bar. He pulled out a notebook and pen, then spread the papers from Jason out and began to read. "Oh, I started some new songs last night. They're in here." He scowled at the papers. "Fifteen percent? I told him not less than eighteen."
"Ugh, you argue with Jason. Fifteen sounds perfectly reasonable to me, all things considered. And that is up from twelve."
"Do I look like I fucking care? I said eighteen, I meant eighteen. What are we, fucking amateur posers? No."
Dai tuned Jet's grousing out, having heard it all before. He had no doubt that Jason and Jet would get into a shouting match, but Jason would eventually go back and get at least eighteen percent. If Dai didn't know any better, he'd swear Jason and Jet argued the way they did for the pleasure, but that put images in his head that he did not fucking need. As if.
Leaving Jet to his gleeful bitching, Dai dug out the battered notebook they were currently using for songwriting. He and Jet had always written songs together, usually jotting stuff down in a notebook that they traded back and forth until they ran out of pages. Then they would get a new one. Each notebook was also crammed with scraps and napkins and whatever else they'd used to jot ideas and lyrics down while they were out somewhere. Their first real hit had been written on the back of the menu of a shitty diner that had given them food poisoning.
He flipped to the newest page, snagged a pen from the pile of like twenty of them that had appeared in front of Jet, and began fussing. "Did you seriously write a song called Love You Like a Romance Novel? That is the cheesiest, dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life. I refuse to sing something this lame."
"Shut your stupid face," Jet replied. "It'll be good, though you may hate me for what your voice has to do
in the chorus."
Dai glanced back down at the lyrics and noticed the musical annotations scrawled in Jet's messy writing along the bottom. "Yeah, you're right. I hate you. This fucking constitutes abuse."
"It's only abuse if you don't like it and didn't consent. And you do and did. Fix the last verse, it sucks."
"Oh, believe me, I noticed. This song is already soppy enough, you're not allowed to use roses and hearts anywhere in it." Dai crossed out the last four lines and started fussing, and they worked in silence for the better part of an hour, pausing only when their beers ran out and Jet rose to get new ones.
Not being able to check his phone obsessively fucking sucked, but it wouldn't take more than a single text to or from Cooper to give himself away, so no texting. Not that it mattered in the end because when Dai did finally check it, he still had no further texts from Cooper.
Dai shoved the notebook away and stretched with a long groan. "So where are you dragging me tonight?"
"Club Pan. We haven't been in a while, and I want to do something fun—and you need out."
"Yeah, yeah," Dai replied. It was easier to cooperate with one club outing and be left alone for a few days than be harangued every day until he finally gave in anyway. He combed through his hair, grimacing at the length. "I need to get my hair cut. Should I redo the color, too?"
"Why not? You haven't done purple in a while. Maybe throw a shock of red in the middle."
Dai shrugged. "Sounds fun. Put this shit away, then. I'll hit up the salon before we go to dinner. Where's the rest of the band?"
"I think they're off doing that family crap people with nice families do." He shrugged. "Come on, nightingale. Get dressed and let's get the fuck out of here."
"Going, going."
Jet grunted in reply, more focused on the messenger bag where he was digging out clothes and a make-up bag.
Dai stripped off the clothes he was wearing and went to his dresser. He stared into the drawer of colorful silk, satin, and lace and finally decided on a soft, slippery pair of bright turquoise silk panties trimmed in black lace. His body flushed warm as he pulled them on and got everything comfortably settled, the memory of Cooper's hot, approving gaze making him restless.
Bustling over to the closet, he pulled out a pair of leather pants long worn to his frame and a tight, sleeveless turquoise shirt trimmed in black and turquoise sequins. A plain leather collar, leather cuffs, and boots finished off his clothes. His hair he left, since hopefully Reba would be in to whip it back into shape. He glanced at his watch. A little after three…a few hours for his hair, then dinner, which always took years when Dai was involved, they'd make the club by ten/eleven or so. Maybe he sneak out once Jet was distracted.
He grabbed his wallet and keys and headed back to the kitchen, where Jet was dressed in obscenely tight leather pants, purple heels, and a shirt that seemed to be made entirely of purple and silver lace. With all the colorful cartoon tats and the dyed green ends to his ear-length hair, he looked like he'd fallen out of an episode of Jem and the Holograms. Which was one of Jet's favorite tattoos. "Nice shirt."
Jet tugged at it. "Thanks. It's one of Moira's. God knows I've had to wear worse for a lot less."
"Don't remind me," Dai said. "My car or yours?"
"Yours. I figure you won't last long at the club, and I'll just call for a ride if I need it."
"Cool." Dai shoved his phone in his pocket, killed the lights, and led the way outside.
*~*~*
Club Pandemonium was one of the few clubs that Dai legitimately liked. Most clubs were about being seen, networking, and other such bullshit. Pan was one of the few places they went just to go, and it was exclusive enough that they could all relax and have fun.
He laughed when Jet kissed his cheek before vanishing into the crowd, ninety percent certain it had to do with not skulking in a corner. Dai watched Jet until he vanished in the throng of the dance floor then panned slowly around the rest of the club to take in all the people, the occasional familiar face.
A drink seemed a good place to start. He headed for the bar—then stopped. No way.
He stared at Cooper, who leaned against the bar, hate pulled low as he nursed a beer and occasionally chatted with the bartender. Dai started forward, but then hesitated. Cooper didn't look happy, for one. His shoulders were drooping, and he was smiling at the bartender, but it wasn't the kind of smile Dai had seen when they'd been together. It was a professional smile, an I'd much rather be at home in bed smile.
Maybe Dai was reading too much into it. A couple of days in the sack, three phone calls, and a whole bunch of texts didn't necessarily mean much. Or so Dai kept trying to convince himself because he was pretty damn sure that getting attached to a closeted country star was going to blow up in his face.
They certainly weren't close enough that Cooper would want Dai butting into a bad mood or trying to comfort him. It was clear Cooper had been frustrated and unhappy about Henry for the past month and a half, but whenever Dai tried to comfort him, he brushed it off and changed the subject.
Compromise. Dai faded off back to the wall, pulled out his phone, and called up Cooper's number. You didn't tell me you were going to be in MY club, Cowboy. Okay, it was really fucking gratifying the way Cooper's head shot up after he read the text and looked around, breaking into a bright, happy smile that lit up his whole face when Cooper found him. Dai was pretty sure he would do a whole hell of a lot for that million dollar smile. That was the smile he knew so well, and wanted to see more of, no matter what it took.
But as much as he wanted to cross the room and kiss Cooper senseless, keep that smile on his face, he couldn't. Plan B, then. Dai smiled back then sent another text. Watch where I go, wait ten or so minutes, then come after me. Tell the guard you're with me. No one here will say a word. I'll text you the room number once I've got it.
Cooper frowned but turned back to the bar and resumed drinking his beer. Dai looked up and grinned, body thrumming with an eagerness, an energy, he hadn't felt since the last time he'd seen Cooper. God, the man was a fucking drug, and Dai was a-o-fucking-kay with overdosing.
He headed to the bar and ordered a double shot of whiskey that he immediately downed, then got a pitcher of beer and two glasses. "Any open rooms, Andrea?"
"Yep." She grinned and pulled a small notebook from her back pocket, thumbed it open and made a notation. "Room fourteen. You remember your code?"
"Yep."
"How long you need it?"
"Probably through 'til morning. Thanks." He left a tip, then headed toward the back of the club, through a dark door and down a barely-lit hallway to where a large, ominous-looking guard stood in front of a door locked with a keypad.
The rooms above Club Pan weren't common knowledge. Taylor, the club owner, permitted only a select few to use them, and only her managers were permitted to rent them out. Anyone not on the list had to be in the company of someone from the list, or granted special permission by Taylor. Those who tried to argue got their asses thrown out and membership suspended.
Dai nodded to the guy guarding the door. "There's a cowboy going to be following me. Discretion is super fucking important for him."
"Of course," the man replied, winking at him. "Don't fret." He turned and keyed in a code, and when the door chimed, pulled it open and motioned Dai forward.
"Thanks, Bobby." He went through the door, then up the flight of stairs and down the hall to room fourteen. He punched in his code to unlock the door he slipped inside, turned on the lights, and crossed the room to set the beer on the table in the corner. Pouring a glass, he took a long swallow before pulling out his phone and texting the room number to Cooper.
The room had the look of an expensive hotel room, complete with bed, sofa, table and two chairs, and a bathroom separated from the rest by a wall of frosted green glass. The whole room was done in tones of green, brown, and gold, with low-set lights. Music from the club pulsed and thrummed faintly.
Dai drank
more of his beer and leaned against the table, heart pounding, fingers drumming on his thigh.
He jumped when someone knocked on the door. Dai crossed the room and opened the door, stepped aside to let Cooper in. Barely kept from throwing himself at the man. "Hey."
"Howdy," Cooper replied, his drawl making the word soft and warm. "You're a sight for sore eyes, no mistake."
Dai laughed a little, but his breath hitched as Cooper closed the space between them and swooped him up, mouth crashing down on Dai's. Groaning, Dai clung tightly to those broad shoulders he'd missed like burning and kissed back with everything that had been building in the weeks since they'd parted at the beach house. He let out a breathless laugh when Cooper scooped him up. "God, it's hot how you do that."
"Ain't what most folks say," Cooper said, nuzzling his cheeks. "Christ, you really are better than a month of Sundays."
Dai wrapped his arms around Cooper's neck and kissed him softly, savoring the feel of those soft, firm lips. "Missed you," he whispered, cheeks going hot, anxiety turning his stomach to knots.
They eased, though, when Cooper smiled and gave him another kiss. "Damned glad I came across you tonight." He slowly let Dai slide down his body but didn't completely let go even Dai's feet were on the floor.
"You look tired," Dai said softly. "Sound tired too."
"I'm wrung out, no denying that," Cooper replied as he removed his hate and combed his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it down. "Ain't having any luck finding someone who can replace Henry, and we're all stressed while she fights that bastard husband of hers. I swear one more thing goes wrong Jake is likely to kill somebody."
Cooper's phone chimed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with a sigh. "What excellent timing." He frowned at the message, typed a quick reply.
"Something wrong?" Dai asked.
"Nah, Jake just wanted to know where I vanished. Told him I was sick of the noise and crowd and went to find somewhere more quiet."
Dai lightly rested his hands on Cooper's torso, stroking in little circles through the t-shirt Cooper wore. "Sure you won't be missed? I don't want this to be one more thing that goes wrong for you."