Crash and Burn (Love You Like A Love Song #1)

by Michele Callahan

  She wanted skin-on-skin contact.

  As if he’d read her mind, his hands moved to the small of her back, then up underneath her T-shirt to explore the slope of her lower back. His touch was electric, and she wanted those hands to roam over every inch of her skin.

  But he was a gentleman and limited his heated touch to her back and sides, just below the swell of her breasts. His firm hand combined with such iron control made her want to push him, to see just how far she could go before he lost control and bent her over the glass counter behind her.

  There was a quiet strength to him that she found completely irresistible. His iron will made her want to trust him, to push him and herself places she’d been afraid to go before. For the first time in her life, she wanted to lose control, give herself completely over to a man’s touch.

  He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard. She sighed and closed her eyes as his hands rested, unmoving, on the bare skin just above her waist.

  Addictive. Yes, that had been the right word. He was so unlike her, so traditional and formal and square. Respectful. Smart. Honest.

  The more she got to know about him, the more she wanted to know. She was starting to think he was the kind of guy she’d read about in books, the kind she could count on when life got shitty.

  The idea of leaning on him, of trusting him, had alarm bells ringing in her head and red flags waving behind her eyes, but she ignored it all.

  Erin dropped a quick, closed-mouth kiss on his lips and pulled free of his arms. She straightened her shirt and backed away before he could tempt her to repeat that kiss.

  “Now that you’ve got kissing covered, it’s time for you to learn some guitar.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  They spent the next hour playing guitar together. He played some basic tab chords to popular rock songs, she played the melody, and they sang together. She laughed when he sang every line of her favorite ballad completely off-key and flat. He watched her in complete silence when she sang the same love song back to him the way it was supposed to be, haunting and sad and lonely. She closed her eyes and got lost in the melody. When the last chord faded, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her with a dark intensity she’d never seen before.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “It’s beautiful music.” She felt the heat of a full-out blush rush up her neck to her face and turned away to place her music back in the case. Warmth spread in her chest at his praise, and his attention. No man had ever looked at her like that. Eva James saw lust in men’s eyes every night, but Erin had never seen that concentrated interest in a man’s eyes when she wasn’t dressed up as her alter ego, a look that promised so much. He watched her like he wanted to figure her out, to know her inside out. Like she mattered, and not just for sex, but the real woman behind the mask, the one she kept hidden away.

  He put his own guitar away and waited like a sentry watching every move she made. She took her time with her guitar, hoping some of the intensity in the room would fade.

  No such luck.

  She clicked the final latch to close her case and stood up to find him right beside her. He pulled her into his arms gently, slowly, like she was fragile as a flower, or he was afraid she’d bolt.

  “It’s not just the music, Erin.”

  His soft declaration melted her heart and all she could do was stare at him helplessly as he lowered his head and placed a slow, reverent kiss on her lips.

  Chapter Six

  Another Thursday night, another club. Erin adjusted the baby-blue wig she had on for tonight’s show and tugged at the short white skirt. She had a signature look, and tonight she’d added a little something extra…

  “And not because he’s going to be here.” She met her own electric-blue gaze in the mirror and sighed. She had to admit the truth, at least to herself. She’d dressed for Chance tonight. She wanted him crazy for her.

  She should be freaked out that the Shipton execs were out there, waiting to catch the show. She should have put on this outfit for them, to make an impression. But truth was her motto, and the truth was, she didn’t want Chance to be able to take his eyes off her. Blowing the minds of the music execs would just be an added bonus.

  Erin tried to talk her racing heart down off the cliff, but it wasn’t working. Not at all. The nerves always got to her right before a show, but this time it was worse. Much worse. She wanted to see that look in Chance Walker’s eyes again, that intense I-want-you-so-much-I-can’t-think-straight look.

  “Get a grip, woman.” Chance was turning her inside out. Maybe she should just jump into bed with him and enjoy the ride.

  One thing stopped her, one truth that AJ loved to rub in her face every chance he got. Erin didn’t do casual. She had a psychological defect that made casual sex impossible. The very moment a penis entered her body, Erin fell for the owner of said penis. AJ called it her little penis problem.

  She didn’t just have sex. Ever. No matter how tempted she was to let her wicked alter ego have her way. Eva James would have hot, wild sex with Chance and enjoy every minute of it. Erin would second guess, be self-conscious, and get her heart broken. Which really sucked, because every once in a while a girl needed some relief. And the idea of hot, sweaty sex with Chance tempted her. A lot.

  Bang-bang-bang. AJ’s loud strikes on the bathroom door were like a bucket of cold water over her head. “Come on, E! We’ve got a gig to play. What are you doing in there? Dropping a deuce? Let’s go!”

  “Be there in a sec.” She gave the sexy vixen in the mirror a once over and nodded in approval. She had a job to do. Time to do it. She marched to the door and pulled it open to find AJ standing there with a grin on his face. His eyes were puffy and red and he smelled like he’d just crawled out of a bong.

  “Hey, sis.”

  “You stink.”

  “Smoking is the secret to a long and healthy life.”

  “You’re stupid, you know that?” She stared up at him and just shook her head, but she didn’t complain. Days past, he would have been drunk or popping pills, or both, before they went onstage.

  “But you love me anyway.” She did. And something had happened to him in the last year. He’d become a bit more serious. Maybe it had been when she threatened to quit the band.

  Because the fact of the matter was she didn’t want to have to be Eva James, sex kitten, to make it in music. She wanted to write music, play her guitar, and be herself onstage. But she was too much of a fucking coward. Other than her brother, not once in her life had anyone thought Erin Michaelson was enough. Not even her own mother.

  “Yes, I do. But you’re still an idiot. Mom died while she was high on that shit, in case you forgot.”

  “That’s cold, E. She was driving drunk. Her choice. I don’t do that.”

  “Sorry.” Yeah, he hadn’t forgotten. Neither one of them would ever forget. And he was right. When he smoked or drank, he was the taxi company’s most reliable customer.

  “Ah, sis, that’s okay. You’re so sweet to me. Nothing but love.” His arm wrapped around her shoulders and the muscles in her neck tensed in preparation. Oh, crap. She knew that tone of voice.

  “What do you want, AJ?”

  “What?”

  “You know what. What. Do. You. Want? You’re never this nice to me, and you never hug me unless you’re about to ask for money.”

  “Just a hundred bucks. That’s it. And I swear I’ll pay you back next week.” He had the good sense to give her the big, droopy puppy dog eyes and sad, quivering lower lip. She couldn’t stop the grin from escaping, no matter how much she wanted to bitch slap him into next week. He was all she had. He was immature and reckless, but he loved her. And she loved him. They were a classic case of codependency, and she knew because she’d read a few books when she’d been trying to figure out her own shit. He fucked up. She enabled his behavior by bailing him out. Classic.

  The problem with tough love was that it was equall
y hard on both people. Disappointing him, or telling him no, actually made her heart hurt. She’d been taking care of him since he was a kid and old habits died hard. She just wished she felt more like a sister and less like a mother.

  “Fine. After the show.” She started to shove her way past him in the tiny, deserted hallway behind the bar’s stage, but he grabbed her arm.

  “I kinda need it now.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cuz I made a promise to one of the girls who works here.”

  “A promise?” God help her, she was going to kill him. He was pulling this bullshit tonight? With Shipton records here to watch their show? Jesus, he could ruin everything. “You mean you promised her a hundred bucks if she’d give you a blow job before the show?”

  “Come on, E. Don’t be a prude. You know it helps me take the edge off.”

  Either she was going to puke, or she was about to murder her baby brother. “Please tell me you took it somewhere private, at least.” Maybe if he’d taken the girl out back, or to his car, maybe she could take care of this and make it go away without the record label boys being any the wiser.

  “I’m always discreet.”

  “You’re disgusting. Just go rub one out in the corner next time.”

  “Please, E. She’s waiting.”

  Erin sighed. They were supposed to start playing in less than ten minutes and her brother had managed to get into trouble already. “Where is she?”

  “She’s out there, leaning on the edge of the stage by my guitar.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Uhh…” He tugged at his goatee and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “You’re an asshole. Never mind. What does she look like?” She didn’t dare give her brother the money or it would vanish like pipe smoke in a breeze.

  AJ described a brunette with a “huge rack” wearing a black miniskirt and a T-shirt that all bar employees wore to work.

  “A hundred bucks?”

  “Yeah.” She walked back to the tiny locker the bar owner had given her to store her bag and pulled Chance’s crisp new hundred-dollar bill from her wallet. Damn. There went half of the savings she’d earmarked for the new computer.

  “You overpaid. Find a crack whore next time who’ll do it for ten.” Erin didn’t recognize the cold, unfeeling bitch that was talking to her brother right now, but she was coming out to play more and more often.

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I swear. She is a nice girl, Erin. No drugs. And she’s got a little kid at home with no daddy. I wanted to help her out.”

  “Help her out? By letting her blow you? You’re a real humanitarian, AJ.” Yes, she was definitely going to puke. The room started to spin and she had to brace her hand on the wall to keep from falling over. “I’m not doing this again. Do you understand me?”

  “I promise.” He grinned and pulled her into a tight but quick hug. “Thanks, E. You’re the best.”

  AJ left her standing there with her wallet open and a frown on her face. Never again. How many times had she said that to him? She was alone in the employee hallway behind the stage and a few seconds later she heard the telltale sound of AJ warming up for lead guitar, Ricky playing the keys and Todd banging out a few different beats on the drums.

  Erin palmed the cash and stuffed her bag back into the locker. Silently cursing her brother, she locked it up and went out to find AJ’s latest victim.

  But when she saw the woman leaning her hip against the stage staring up at AJ with open adoration, her stomach cramped. AJ should have just let the girl have her way with him. From the look on her face, she would have done it for free.

  But then AJ would have to deal with her as a human being, a woman with real feelings and expectations. Money made it emotionally sterile and seemed to keep his conscience clean. And that was the play he’d learned from their father.

  Erin approached the woman and slid the hundred-dollar bill into her hand with practiced ease. AJ swore it would be the last time, and he pretended to believe it, so she pretended, too. Some nights, pretending was the only thing that kept her going.

  “Fake it ’til you make it, Eva James.” She whispered the mantra to herself as she walked to the stairs on the far side of the stage, as far away from AJ and his one-woman fan club as she could get.

  As she took the stage her gaze wandered over the crowd. Melanie was there, as usual, with a grin on her face. Every time she looked at Todd the girl practically glowed with happiness.

  True love. They both had it written all over their sappy faces and long, lingering looks.

  No one had ever looked at her like that. She’d had a fair number of lovers, and not one had made her feel cherished, or adored. Not one of them had made her burn so hot she couldn’t think, either.

  Until Chance’s kiss.

  She slammed a steel door on that thought before it could wreck her for the night. All week thoughts of him refused to leave her alone. If she stopped moving, his smell, his taste, his heat was right there, tormenting her. He was like a slow-moving poison in her mind, and she couldn’t get rid of him, even now, when she had to work.

  The bar crowd had tripled in the last hour while the band had been setting up. And more would come later. It was only seven. Still early, even for a Thursday night. It was loud, and smoke from the kitchen grills hovered near the ceiling in a thick cloud. The air conditioning wouldn’t be strong enough to keep her from sweating beneath the lights once they started playing their set.

  She blew on the mic to test the sound and gave a thumbs up to Ricky where he nodded to her from the mixing board behind the piano. All set. She grabbed the bass guitar and lifted the strap over her head. When the familiar weight settled on her shoulder she held the guitar and ran her hands along the smooth planes and edges. Holding a guitar always helped her calm down and find her center. She preferred lead guitar or piano, but it was easy to play bass and sing. Less work. Less focus on her fingers and more on the elaborate illusion that was Eva James.

  Erin took a deep breath and waited for a quiet “ready” from the guys. Ricky, Todd and AJ sounded off one by one and she stepped up to the mic. She looked down at her striped-white, knee-high boots and white mini skirt with electric-blue stripes down the sides. Her top tonight was a bright blue cami under an intricate crochet of bright white plastic ribbon that had taken her two weeks to make. The bright blue hair of her wig fell forward to hide her face and she took three slow, deep breathes to prepare herself as the piped-in music faded and the bar quieted in anticipation of their first song.

  Time to be someone else. She took a breath and looked up with a bright smile on her face. Three. Two. One…

  “Hello. We’re Fourth Strike. That’s AJ on guitar, Ricky on keyboards, Todd on the drums, and I’m Eva James…” She dropped a bass beat on the crowd and they cheered. All but one.

  Chance Walker sat at the bar and scowled straight at the stage. The glower on his face would have scared her if it had been directed at her.

  If looks could kill, AJ would already be dead meat. Why was he glaring at her brother? Did he know what AJ had done?

  Her smile faltered. Had Chance watched her pay off that waitress? Had he seen her humiliate herself? Did he know that she’d covered for her brother?

  Why did she care?

  Nausea rolled in her gut and she choked it down. She had to clear her throat before she could speak into the mic again. Her embarrassment morphed to anger. Chance had no right to judge her. Sure, her little brother was a jerk, but he was her jerk.

  Erin listened to the beat, started her eight count for the cue in on the vocals, but her head wasn’t in it. She missed her count and Todd banged out a drum solo while she got her head on straight. No more thoughts about false identities, bad lighting, or stolen kisses. She was Eva James. And onstage, Eva James was a take-no-prisoners killer.

  AJ cued her in and she sang like her life depended on it. Her sanity certainly did.

  Chapter Seven

 
Chance wanted to punch AJ, the idiot brother. Oh, he knew how this was going to play out. He’d watched the whole sad, pre-show spectacle, including AJ’s disappearing act with one of the waitresses.

  What rattled his cage was the upset he saw on Erin’s face and the money he’d watched her covertly slip into the other woman’s hand. Erin palmed that money like she’d done it a hundred times, and the resigned look on her face and the slump to her shoulders told him she probably had.

  That brother of hers was a problem. AJ had no respect for women. He’d dishonored his sister and that waitress. He was hurting Erin and costing her a fortune. Especially if his behavior tonight was a habit.

  And it was none of his damn business.

  “Why are we here? She ran out on you last week, Chance. That’s pretty much the universal signal for ‘not interested’. What the hell are you doing chasing a hot mess like that?” Derek sat beside him, but this time it was just the two of them at the bar. The stage was to the left of them both, which meant Chance had to lean around his brother’s profile to catch sight of the woman he’d come to see tonight.

  “I told you, I caught up to her after. And she invited me.” He could watch her and keep mostly hidden from her sight behind Derek’s thick shoulders.

  “If you say so.”

  Derek offered him a shot of whiskey but Chance turned it down. Not tonight. This evening ice water was his drink of choice¸ and if he was lucky, Erin would be dessert.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Derek raised his glass in salute. “Abso-fucking-lutely. I couldn’t miss you manhandling her behind the speakers again.”

  “Shut up. I kissed her. That’s it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Derek sipped at his whiskey with noteworthy restraint. He was still nursing his first. “That’s why her loser little brother had to break it up.”

  “What? How do you know AJ is younger?” That tore his gaze away from Erin strutting around on stage. She’d started singing and her voice vibrated through his chest and headed straight to his groin. He was turning into an obsessed loser. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He stalked the band on their website, their Facebook Page and Instagram feed. He knew without asking that Erin posted it all.