“I’m going back out there with you.”
“Ronni’s not going to like that very much.”
“Screw Ronni. Maybe I’ll stick my tongue down your throat on the dance floor.”
She looks at me seductively. “You want to stick your tongue down my throat?”
I brush her hair behind her ear. “I want to stick my tongue in a lot of places.”
She exhales slowly. “How long do we have to stay here?”
“There you are,” Ronni says, coming around the corner. “You ran off. We’re not finished.”
I motion to Bria. “I think it’s her turn. You did say you wanted us all to meet them, right?”
Ronni’s expression sours. “You work the floor down here. Brianna, follow me and try to look sophisticated.”
Bria follows her, but mimes someone tightening a noose around her neck behind Ronni’s back.
I smile. Because, holy shit, I really like this girl.
Chapter Thirty-three
Bria
The limo pulls up in front of my place. Ronni’s eyes are glued to the window. “You live here?” She looks up and down the street. “God, it’s hideous.”
Crew says sarcastically, “Yet you keep spending our money on frivolous things, like limos.”
“Well, it’s obviously needed,” Ronni says. “We sure as hell don’t want people thinking you live in squalor.”
I’m tired of her condescension, but I decided long ago not to let it get to me. “Bye, guys. Great set tonight.”
Crew gets out after me. Before he closes the door, I hear Ronni say, “That hair.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Crew says. “Your hair is incredible. She’s just jealous.”
“Yeah, right,” I say, stumbling.
He catches me. “Whoa. You okay?”
I smile. “I am now.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Maybe a little, and so are you. How could we not be, with all the drinks pushed our way?”
He laughs. “A lot of expensive drinks.”
I unlock the door. “I haven’t had champagne like that since I was on the road with White Poison.”
“Maybe you should get used to it.”
“Do you think people really get used to drinking bottles of two-hundred-dollar champagne?”
“Did Adam?”
“Oh yeah.”
“That’s not going to be us, Bria.”
“I hope not.” We go into my tiny apartment, and it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. “It will be strange to go from this to that, don’t you think? If it happens.”
He captures me, tugging me to him. “It’ll happen. We were good tonight.”
I wiggle against him. “Really good, and you were amazing.”
“It’s because of you.”
I did the right thing going back to Carlos. It’s like the old Chris is back. No, he’s better. “They treated us like celebrities. It was surreal.”
“We may not like Ronni, but I have to hand it to her. She knows how to make things happen.”
I run my fingers through his stiff hair. “I guess she does, but I can’t say I’m a fan of this.”
He snorts. “Me either. Mind if I shower and wash this crap out?”
I shrug seductively. “Not if you don’t mind if I come with you.”
We drop everything and quickly shed our clothes. My shower is tiny, and the curtain sticks to us every time we move. He puts his head under the water and lets me wash his hair. I’ve never washed a man’s hair. It’s so intimate. When I finish, he opens his eyes and looks at me. I swear he’s looking at me harder than he ever has before, like earlier when we were singing. He radiates strength, determination, and heat. And I wonder who he’s seeing—her or me?
He shoves me against the wall, exploring me with his mouth and tongue. He’s hard as he grinds into me. I break our kiss, laughing when I look at his erection and it jerks with needy expectation. “I’m happy to see you didn’t drink that much tonight.”
He frames my face with his hands. “Nothing is going to keep me from being with you right now.”
I palm his cock, and he inhales sharply. I stroke up and down his length, the water making him slippery. He braces himself against the wall behind me.
He cups my breast and toys with my nipple. He runs a hand down my slick body and puts his fingers between my legs. He groans as he pushes them inside me. I want him to go farther, deeper.
I spin around so I face the wall, desperately wanting him to make love to me. He pins me against the tile, kisses my neck and upper back, one hand fondling a breast and the other on my clit. I lean over as far as I can, reaching behind me to guide him inside.
He hesitates, his hands still on me. “Are you sure?”
“I’m on the pill.”
He enters me. “Jesus, Bria … this feels … oh, God, I’m not going to last long.” He circles my clit with a finger. He whispers in my ear, his hot breath and sexy words taking me higher. “Uhhhhhhh,” he cries, as he makes his last thrusts. His explosive groans vibrate through me.
Him coming inside me with nothing between us—it’s so freeing. So trusting. I lose myself in his orgasm and come.
He pulls out of me, lathers his hands, and washes between my legs. He lingers over my skin until the water turns tepid. I turn off the shower. He wraps me in a towel and helps me out of the tub. “Sit,” he says, putting down the toilet lid.
He dries himself, then, still naked, runs the towel over my hair. He carefully combs through it and stares at me for a long moment before wrapping a towel around his waist and leaving the bathroom without a word.
What just happened?
I put on my robe and follow him out. He gets his notebook and sits on my couch, writes a few words, chews on his pen, then writes a few more. I laugh silently, happy to have provided him inspiration.
I go back in the bathroom, dry my hair, and slip into bed, letting him work. Sometime later he joins me, his movements waking me.
“Was it good?” I ask.
He shimmies against me. “It’s always good.”
I giggle sleepily. “I meant the song you wrote.”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
I turn, just able to make out his face in the moonlight. “Do you remember Wednesday night?”
“Vaguely.”
“You asked me to move in with you. Do you remember that?”
He stiffens. “I … I thought it was a dream.”
“I know why you asked me.”
He skims a hand along my thigh. “So we could do this all the time?”
“You asked me because you want to protect me, right? Like you did at the club tonight. Like you always do.”
“Whatever. I was drunk.”
“I know, but I get the feeling you meant it. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to trap you. We’re not moving in together. I know why you asked, but I’m not her.”
He inches back. “What are you talking about?”
“I know about Abby. Well, not all about her. But I know she died.”
He sits up and swings his legs off the bed. “You read my stuff?” he says angrily.
I don’t answer. He turns on the light and looks at me. I don’t want to admit I read that song. “I went to see your mom. She looked at me the way you did this week—like she’d seen a ghost. She showed me the picture of Abby.”
He jumps out of bed. “She what?”
I sit up and wrap myself in the covers. “I didn’t know what to do. The way you’ve been acting lately, I thought you were going to break up with me. As soon as I saw the picture, though, I knew it was my fault, not yours. I’d made myself look like her. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how it must have felt. And she was a singer, like me.”
“Jesus,” he says, pacing around the room. “What the hell did she tell you?”
“Nothing. She showed me the picture and told me Abby died a long time ago. I asked her to tell me more, but she wouldn’t. She said yo
u needed to tell me in your own time.”
He puts on his underwear. I think he’s going to get dressed and leave. Instead, he looks back at me. He runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. Then he sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s not your fault you colored your hair. You had no idea. And I liked it, I did, but …”
I scoot over and wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay. I get it.”
He tenses, then relaxes. He turns off the light and lies next to me. I lay my head on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait for you to tell me.” I glance at him. “As long as you don’t act like a douche anymore.”
He kisses my head. “Deal. I’ll try to dial down the fucked-up.”
“We’re all fucked up, you know. You don’t own the rights.”
“I know.”
I give him a squeeze. “You didn’t really want me to move in with you, did you?”
“I don’t know. It’s no secret I don’t like you living here by yourself, and it would save us a ton on rent, but—”
“But those aren’t the right reasons.”
“No.”
He rubs my back, and I start to drift off, his heartbeat strong and steady under my ear.
“Bria?”
“Mm?”
“Did you fake an orgasm the other night or was that a dream, too?”
I chuckle. “That really happened. You were drunk and …”
“And what?”
“You wouldn’t look at me.”
He flips me over so I’m under him, and he turns the light back on. “I’m looking at you now, and I swear you’ll never fake another one again.”
He slips a hand beneath my panties and keeps his promise.
Chapter Thirty-four
Crew
We stick around after rehearsal. Ronni hired a photographer to do a shoot. No matter how much she complains about the barn, even she had to admit it has a great rustic feel.
As we wait for Ronni and the photographer to arrive, Bria tries to help Liam with a melody for a new song. He’s been in a slump lately. She sits at the keyboard, trying different variations as he strums his guitar.
I watch her. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. She’s so easy to look at. Our eyes meet, and she smiles.
Something has changed between us since last Friday. And it’s not just her hair. Ever since she found out about Abby, she’s been acting differently. More accepting. She asks fewer questions. She gives me more space.
I pick up my notebook and attempt to work on the song Mom suggested I write. I’ve made some progress this week. I even feel like it might be finished someday. But a part of me doesn’t want to finish it. It would somehow make things so final.
Dirk comes into the barn with an armful of food. “Thought you kids might be hungry. I hear you have a long day.”
Garrett and Brad race over to him. The rest of us hang back.
“You’re not hungry?” Dirk asks Liam.
Liam ignores him.
“Or just not grateful,” Dirk says. He crosses to his nephew. “It’d do you good to remember who supported you when no one else would.”
“Can we not do this here?” Liam says.
“Why not here? You never talk to me at home. At my home.”
Liam sees us watching. “Jesus, Dirk.” He gets up and leaves. Dirk follows, slamming the door so hard it pops back open. We pretend to eat as we listen to their argument.
“What the hell is your problem, Liam?” Dirk shouts.
“What do you think it is? I’m sick of you thinking RA owes you. That I owe you. That everybody in the goddamn world owes something to Dirk Campbell.”
“You’d do best to remember your place,” Dirk says. “The way I see it, you do owe me. Or have you forgotten about White Poison, SummerStage, and all the other shit I’ve done for your band? Not to mention what I do for your goddamn mother.”
“Don’t talk about my mother. And let’s face it, dear uncle, you’re the one who owes me. I could ruin you, and you know it.”
“That’s bullshit,” Dirk says. “You couldn’t, and you won’t. Who would take care of Colleen? You really think your alcoholic mother would survive on the street?”
There is a loud thump against the wall.
“Don’t fucking call her that,” Liam yells.
“Get your hands off me,” Dirk says. “That is unless you like them there.”
Oh shit. I start toward the door, thinking Liam is about to go ballistic, and hear a car pull up.
“Go to hell, Dirk,” Liam says. “Either kick us out of the barn or stay the hell away from us.”
I slip out the door. Dirk is straightening his tie.
Ronni gets out of her car and looks at the three of us. “Did I miss something?”
Dirk goes over and kisses Ronni’s cheek. “Liam was just thanking me for bringing lunch, weren’t you, son?”
Liam’s hands ball into fists. He hates it when Dirk calls him that. He returns to the barn, and I follow. He pulls me aside. “I need to get out of Dirk’s house. I can’t write any fucking music lately. And Mom—she’s not good. I have to get her out of there too.”
“Everything okay?” Bria asks.
“Yes,” I say.
Liam snorts. “Sure, if my uncle being a prick is okay. You guys think you live in shitholes, but you have no idea how much I’d give to be in a place like one of yours.”
“Why don’t you?” Bria asks. “Maybe you and Crew could get a place together.”
Liam shakes his head. “I have to think about Mom.”
Bria doesn’t press the issue. I haven’t told her much about Liam’s family situation and nothing about his past.
Liam shuffles away, still brooding.
“Trying to pawn me off on someone else so you don’t have to move in with me?” I joke.
She wrinkles her nose and shrugs.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s eat.”
A few minutes later, Ronni comes inside with someone in tow. “This is Kai Hansen. He’s going to do the shoot.” She looks at Bria from head to toe. “Please tell me you brought different clothes. Those look like they came from the same place you got your apartment.”
“Give it a rest, Ronni,” I say. “We all brought several changes of clothes.”
“Good, because there’s no way she would fit into anything of mine. Everything I own is a size four. She’d look like a stuffed sausage.”
Bria is tense, like she’s holding back. Ronni has a stick up her ass, for sure. I wonder if she’s always been able to get her way with clients. Something tells me she always gets what she wants, and that pisses me off and also scares me a little, because Ronni seems to hate Bria.
Kai unpacks his gear, bringing in several screens and lights. He motions to us. “You look strong, mates. I saw bales of hay outside. Let’s pile a few of the smaller ones behind the drums.”
I’m surprised by his British accent. Does it remind Bria of Adam? But she doesn’t seem affected, and that makes me happy.
I drop off a bale and ask Ronni, “What’s this going to cost us? I’ve seen his equipment. He can’t be cheap. We have no money, but you keep making us do expensive shit.”
“This one’s on IRL. Niles likes you, so make it good. We’re sticking our necks out for you.”
“He likes us, huh?”
She runs a finger down my chest. “What’s not to like?”
“Ronni,” I warn, glancing at Bria to see if she’s watching.
“You’re no fun at all, are you?” She leans close. “One day you’ll give in to me, Christopher Rewey.”
I push her away. “Nobody calls me that, least of all you.”
“We’ve already established I can call you whatever I please. Now don’t you have some more hay to move?”
After we’ve moved everything around per Kai’s directions, we get changed for the shoot. Ronni tries to take charge, positioning Bria behind me, like she always does. Kai calls Bria to the front, and R
onni protests.
“You’re paying me to take the best photos. You need to trust me,” Kai says to her. “You’ll see I’m right.” He turns to Bria. “Sweetheart, you’re the eye candy. I want you out front with Crew.”
I expect her to tell him off for calling her sweetheart, but she doesn’t. Maybe she’s so happy he’s going against Ronni’s wishes that she’s letting it slide.
Ronni sits on the couch, pouting.
I try not to laugh when Kai poses Bria and me in sexy positions on the hay bales. He hasn’t the slightest idea we’re a couple. No way would Ronni have told him. Her head must be about ready to explode.
Kai tucks Bria’s hair behind her ear. “Has anyone ever told you that you should try modeling?”
Bria blushes. “I never had any interest. Music is my passion.”
“Shame,” he says. “You’d do very well.”
I scoot closer to her. “She’s doing very well with us.”
“I’ve heard your stuff. It’s quite brilliant.” He fixes her hair again. “I think I like it better this way, when it frames your face. Beautiful. Stay like that, luv.”
He returns to his camera. Garrett snickers behind me.
“Shut up,” I snarl through my teeth.
“Let’s take five,” Kai says a while later. “I want to check my images, and then we’ll change the background and take some on your stage.”
Jeremy comes in and goes straight to Liam. “What’s going on with you and Dirk?”
Liam shrugs. “Same shit, different day.”
“Maybe it’s time to work your shit out.”
“Not likely.”
“You do realize it’s not wise to bite the hand that feeds you.”
Liam gives him a harsh stare. “That’s why we hired you, isn’t it? To help us make money so nobody else has to feed us. When do you think that might start happening? Because from where I sit, the only one making any money here is you.”
“It takes money to make money,” Jeremy says.
“Where have I heard that before?”
“Dirk is a wise man. Got him where he is today. You could learn a lot from him.”
Reckless Obsession (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 20