I’m definitely ready for a break when my phone rings. Not Hannah this time either. I sigh and connect with my sister.
“Hey, big bro!”
“Hey, bridezilla.”
“Whatever. Are you still good for the processional? It’s like two weeks away. How are the hands?”
“All good. Holland and I have run through the song. We’ll do a full rehearsal with the band in a little bit.”
“That’s so great that you’re playing with them after everything.”
“Yeah.”
She seems to want more, but I have nothing.
“Do I get a preview?” she asks finally.
“No way. You need to be surprised along with everyone else.”
“Ooh, so mysterious. This is going to be epic!” I can picture her epic dance on the other end of the line.
“Hope so.”
“And I can’t wait to see Hannah sing!”
“Yeah.” Maybe I’m being rude but I can’t do this right now. “Hey, I’ve gotta get back to work, but you concentrate on being an awesome bride. We got this.”
After we hang up, I use the break to shower and force some food down my throat. Then it’s another longing glance at the bar before I grab a bottle of water instead. Hannah comes home soon, and I’m not giving up without a fight.
∞∞∞
It’s late, too late for a knock. My gaze springs to the door, and I force my stiff legs to straighten. Cops? Building security? Pranksters? Who assaults someone’s residence at this hour?
Hannah Drake.
I stand in shock. Hand gripping the doorframe, I can only stare at the most gorgeous person—thing—I’ve ever seen. Her eyes radiate with the glow of a woman in love, skin golden from the caress of the sun. It’s painful how beautiful she is.
The ache knots in my throat, but I refuse to give in. No, I’m fighting. I will fight until the ring on her finger is a gold band instead of a diamond. My eyes drop in search of the evidence, but she has her hands tucked in her back pockets. On purpose? Probably.
“Sorry, it’s late. Can I come in?”
I nod and shift so she can pass. The fresh and flowery scent I’ve come to crave washes over me as she brushes by. I have to clench my fists to keep from taking her in my arms for a taste. Just one touch. I concentrate on locking the door instead.
“We need to talk,” she says, and my limbs go numb.
“Wait. Before that, can I just…” I scrub at my face. “Can I just play something for you?”
“Wes, I—”
“Please. I’m begging you, just listen?” I am begging. Desperation seeps from my pores, fills the space around us. I move to the keyboard before she can argue and start playing.
The signature rasp in my voice is almost a croak as I make my way through the song, but I fight on. I need her to understand. Even if she walks out of here to become Mrs. Country Club, I need her to do it with my heart in her hands. So I play. The concert of my life, I pour out my soul for this woman.
Bloodshot eyes scratch through the veil and find you, find you
Truth locked beyond my reach
You flood in, addictive fangs, sink deep
So deep I bled
For you,
Fled, for you
Chased the moon, I died and came back for you
Wrapped in you
Trapped trapped, before I knew
How to survive the loss
When you find me too, those hidden parts
I blocked, beyond your reach
Your perfection is
My rejection, burns
Hot through the bloody heart you own
Until the beat, beat, beat
Stops.
I look up at the abrupt ending that I left purposely unresolved. It’s her song to finish, not mine.
Her eyes are glossy when I find them. The emotion has to match mine as I wait in agony, and she reaches up a hand to clear the tears. It’s then that I see it on her left hand: Nothing. Fucking nothing!
“Geoff proposed on the cruise… I said no.”
My empty chest fills with flowers and hope and a soul-crushing love as I constrict her against me before she can utter another word.
“Thank god,” I whisper against her hair, and her own arms tighten around my back. “Thank god.”
∞∞∞
Hannah is settled into me on the couch as we talk. I stroke my fingers over her arms, her neck, her cheek. Anywhere I can reach, I want to touch.
“Frankly, I was shocked by the proposal,” she says. “I don’t know what he was thinking. And how awkward is that? Stuck on a boat with someone for two weeks? I said I’d think about it because, can you imagine sharing a cabin with a guy you rejected? Geez,” she laughs.
I swallow my jealousy at the thought of her sharing a cabin with any guy and rest my lips on the side of her neck.
She squirms against my hold. “That tickles!”
“Yeah?” I go in for another taste. She reaches back to swat me away.
“I’m trying to talk!”
“I’m listening.”
“No, you’re not. You’re horny.”
“I’m always horny for you, babe.”
She bursts out laughing and twists to give me a look. “Lame.” After a sigh, she leans into me again. For someone who finds my horniness lame, she doesn’t seem to have any issues feeding it with her own exploration of my body while she talks. “Anyway, you know what he said after I told him I needed to think?”
“I would have jumped off the boat.”
“I know.” She pulls my hand to her lips, and I feel the tingle spread with irresistible urgency. “But not Geoffrey. No, he smiled—actually smiled—and said that was smart. Not even in a ‘just to be polite’ way. He meant it!”
“Fucking idiot.”
“Don’t be mean. But yeah, that’s when I knew without a doubt.”
She shifts so we’re chest to chest now.
“Knew what?”
“That’s not the kind of love I want. I want a burning, bloody heart I can own.”
And I kiss her. I inhale her. I claim her until she has no choice but to hand over her burning, bloody heart as well.
27: REHEARSAL
The gang’s all here, including a new face I don’t recognize. Dark, mysterious, and exuding solemn confidence, he’s the exact opposite of his girlfriend, Sylvie Drake. I would have known this was Shandor even without the blonde energy-ball fawning all over him.
“Wes!”
The entire room zeroes in on me when Spence comes rushing over for a vicious man-hug. Okay, so maybe I missed the guy. He’s no longer my drummer, but he’ll always be a good friend.
“Hey, dude. Good to see you.”
“Been a minute. What’s with the drama?” he says with an arm-punch.
“Why, you been bored without me?”
The others have joined us now too, and we exchange a variety of greetings. Even Luke—Shit, Luke?—gets a handshake. I feel Hannah’s amusement behind me before she goes in for a full-on hug with the guy. Not blowing a gasket when my girlfriend hugs my nemesis—fucking weird. But here we are. All greeted, smiling, and ready for me to meet my replacement.
“You must be Shandor.” I offer my hand. He returns a firm grip that doesn’t suck, and I point to the rack near where he was before. “That yours?”
“Yeah.”
“A Starplayer, huh? Damn.” His severe expression breaks into a grin at my admiration of his baby. “May I?”
He nods, and I remove the guitar from its stand. I inspect the shiny black finish and gold pick guard. Not brand new, but in good condition. This dude takes care of his shit. His pedal board is impressive too. Pretty sick, actually.
“I also use my Les Paul on tour,” he says, amber eyes testing me right back?
“Yeah? Sweet.” I return the guitar to the rack and slap his arm. “Heard good things, man.”
When I turn back around, everyone is staring like I’d
just done an arabesque. I swear, everyone wants you to be a decent person, and when you are, they go all cross-eyed.
“Shandor used to live in Ukrainia,” Sylvie announces, throwing her arms around his waist.
“Romania, babe,” he mutters. “And I’ve lived in a lot of places.”
“Duh, that’s what I meant.” She rolls her eyes and flips multi-colored strands of hair over her shoulder. Blue, pink, purple (is that a feather?) are scattered over her long blonde locks the same color as Holland’s. Hannah is the outlier in the family with her smooth chocolate waves that I can’t stop running my hands through. Even now, I refuse to move on until I pull her against me and plant a kiss on those flower-scented curls. She twists back to give me a smile, and I have to taste that too.
“You ready?” I brush her lips with mine.
Holland shoves me toward a mic. “Ugh, get a room.”
I laugh and begin adjusting the stand. It’s then that I notice the other is still vacant. Hannah hasn’t budged.
“Come on, Han. Right here.” I point to the microphone beside me.
A terror fills her eyes that sucks the humor out of me. “One sec,” I direct to the others and duck around the wedges to meet the girl stationed by the equipment cases.
“What’s going on, babe?” I lift her chin. “You ready to do this?”
Her gaze shoots to the makeshift stage setup and back to me.
“I don’t think I can,” she whispers. “I…” Her ragged breath burns my own lungs, and I draw her into me.
“Of course you can. You’re my viper,” I say against her ear. “You’re going to go over there and kick this song’s ass. Your song.”
Her nod contains zero conviction, and I raise her face again with a stern expression.
“Okay, look. See that guy playing drums? That’s Spence. He agreed to sub-lease his apartment to Shandor. Shandor claims that he paid Spence a security deposit, but now Spence refuses to return it.”
A smile starts to lift the corner of her lips, and I grow even more severe. “The lessee claims that Shandor broke the agreement by moving his pet alligator in, when clearly that wasn’t allowed per Article Four of the lease.”
“Lessor,” she mumbles, burying her face in my shirt.
“Huh?”
“Spence is the lessor. Shandor is the lessee.”
“Smart-ass.” Her laugh vibrates through my chest, and I tighten her to me. “Fine, whatever. What’s your ruling?”
“Depends. Was it a service alligator?”
I snort a laugh. “You ready, babe?”
This time I believe her nod, and after a long, stabilizing breath, I lead her by the hand to the stage.
“Ladies and gentleman. May I introduce the incomparable, Hannah Drake.”
Cheers and applause ring out from our little audience, and my heart bursts at the grin that spreads over my angel’s face.
“Thank you, thank you. Please hold the applause until after the performance,” she says before being swarmed by her two sisters in an explosion of Drake-affection.
“We doing this or what?” I tease, and shrink at the triple death stare. “Just asking.”
Hannah smiles over to me as she breaks away and approaches the stand. Her fingers wrap around the mic clip, and Luke adjusts it for her.
“That good?” he asks. “Make sure it’s... yep, there you go.”
I nod a thank-you in his direction, and he steps back to observe. Sylvie is… oh, seated on Shandor’s amp. He whispers something to her, and she scurries over to stand by Luke.
“Okay, well, you’ve all heard the song?” I ask, scanning the others.
“We’ve run through it a couple of times,” Holland says. “Shandor has a pretty sick riff you’re gonna love.”
I glance back at my replacement. “That so?”
He shrugs, intense yellow eyes alive with excitement. Okay, yeah. I like this guy.
“Just a couple progressions on the bridge.”
“Dude, and that chorus thing,” Spence calls over from behind his kit.
“Oh yeah. There’s a lead line on the chorus I thought would be cool.”
“Sounds good, man,” I say with a smile. “Can’t wait to hear it. Count us off?” I direct to Spence.
He nods and taps his sticks in the air. One. Two. Three. Four.
∞∞∞
The first run-through is good considering we’ve never played it together before. They were right. I love Shandor’s leads and make a couple of suggestions that he rocks like a pro. Spence kills it on drums, adding an edge our living room acoustic version couldn’t touch, and then there’s Holland. Playing with her again, it’s like coming up for air after being sucked into a riptide. Even though she’s changed up her part from our solo rehearsal, I know what she’ll do when she does it. The tone of her guitar is as familiar to me as her voice, and the way she makes it sing—pure magic.
But in a room full of rock stars, it’s ex-lawyer Hannah Drake who leaves a reverent silence in her wake when the last note rings out. We all stare at the stranger before us, this soul who came alive for five minutes and transformed into something of another world. She’s human again when we exchange a grin and her face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and euphoria. I know the feeling. It never goes away; you just learn to mask it better.
“Damn,” I say, breaking the spell before things get awkward.
“Wow,” Holland adds.
“Can I have an autograph?” Luke calls over, and Hannah snorts.
“Stop it, guys.”
“Better get used to it, Han,” I say, enjoying the way her nose scrunches in response.
She straightens and whips back to face the band. “Are we running it again or what?”
∞∞∞
The universe feels right for the first time in a long time when Hannah throws herself back on my couch. I lock the door behind us and move to the kitchen.
“Wow, that was intense,” she says through a long breath. She sits up to peer over the backrest. “Are you getting water?”
“Want some?”
“Please.”
I grab a couple glasses and open a bottle of seltzer.
“Ooh, so fancy,” she gushes as I hand her the fizzy drink.
“Figured we should celebrate.”
“It was a pretty good rehearsal.” She inches forward and holds up her glass.
“Nah, not that.”
“To the first official performance of Viper Rising?”
I shake my head. “Close.”
“Ugh, just say it,” she groans, flicking water at me.
I laugh and wipe the drops off my cheek. Finally, I raise my glass and touch hers. “To me.”
Her entire body participates in the eye roll. “Seriously?”
I smirk and silence her with a kiss. “I didn’t finish,” I breathe against her lips. “To me. For having the sexiest, smartest, most talented girlfriend on the planet.”
Two blue pools widen and melt as they search my face.
“My god,” she whispers before leaning in and brushing her lips against mine. “You’re so… Freaking… Lame.”
She shrieks through a shower of seltzer water.
28: WEDDING
A pair of arms slither around my waist from behind. I lock them in mine as I stare at my reflection in the floor-length mirror.
“Wow.” Hannah pokes her head to the side for a better view. “Although most guys button their dress shirts for formal occasions.”
“Working on it,” I mutter. “Can’t believe she talked me into a tux.”
Hannah’s hands wriggle free to climb my bare chest, shooting electricity over my skin. “Sophia will change her mind when she sees what you’ve done to it. Here, let me.”
She tugs the open sides of my shirt to turn me, and I suck in a breath.
“Holy shit.” My gaze spreads over the goddess before me. “That’s what you were doing in the bathroom all day?”
“You like it?”
She spins so I can appreciate every seam and strap of the black slip that makes her look… Stunning? Exquisite? Ex-boyfriend-slaying? Geoffrey would crap his pants.
I groan and shake my head. “There’s no way in hell I can spend an entire day being good with you looking like that.”
Her lips spread into a sardonic grin I feel in my bloodstream. “You’ll manage. Let’s work on you. Those buttons must be complicated.”
“I have a better idea. Let’s release some of these pre-wedding jitters.” I raise my eyebrows and nod toward the bed.
“After all the time I spent on hair and makeup? Not a chance, hot stuff. Keep it in your pants.”
She swats my hands away and continues working on the buttons.
“I mean, there are options that would leave both in pristine condition,” I point out, sampling the skin on her shoulder. Yep, tastes as good as it looks. I move up her neck.
Her snort-laugh isn’t very encouraging. “Oh yeah?” she purrs, fingers moving into my hair. She forces my face up and deposits a solid kiss on my lips. “Here’s the problem,” she says. So innocent.
“Damn, woman.”
She turns my head to the mirror. “Red lipstick isn’t a great look on you.”
“Hmm… But you are.”
She giggles. “You’re impossible.”
∞∞∞
My mood changes the closer we get to the venue. Security has been instructed to watch for me, so the plan is for Holland to let us in through a loading door in the back. I get the word from Jesse that Limelight is onsite and set up. We’ll be using their equipment, which is in place for the rest of the ceremony.
“It’s going to be like a Processional Flash Mob,” Hannah whispers, eyes alive with excitement.
Viper (NSB Book 3) Page 22