VIPER (Fallen Angel Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Sorry I can’t always be perfect. Maybe you bunch of losers should start pulling your weight.”

  Killian grabbed hold of my arm, his fingers digging in tight, as he turned me away from the rest of the band members. “Seriously, V? What’s going on with you?”

  Aiming my eyes at the hand Killian had on me made him let go. “Nothin’,” I said, knowing that was a total lie. But considering I didn’t even know why I was so prickly, I couldn’t exactly explain it to Killian. Could I? “I’m just having an off day, and I don’t appreciate you getting all up on me about it.”

  “I thought I’d been pretty good about keeping my mouth shut, considering this mood of yours has been lingering like a dark cloud from the second you stepped inside the studio this morning.”

  After shoving my hand through my hair, I shook my head and reached for the strap of my guitar, pulling it up and over my head. “Well how about I do you all a favor, then, and leave. That way, you can all play with yourfuckingselves without me.”

  I turned away from Killian to put my guitar in its case, and as I did, my eyes caught on Halo’s, which were locked on the two of us, a frown marring his forehead. I could see the concern in those light eyes of his, the confusion. But whatever. He was the one who’d decided to walk last night without bothering to say a word, so it wasn’t like I owed him any kind of explanation as to why I suddenly wanted to put my fist through a wall—even if he was the reason.

  Tearing my eyes away from Halo, I slammed the case shut and straightened.

  “Viper. Come on, man,” Jagger said from behind his keyboards. “Kill didn’t mean anything by it. We all have off days.”

  Yeah, we did. But mine were few and far between, and Killian knew it. For me to play like utter shit—which I was man enough to admit I’d been doing today—something was usually off.

  “Don’t care. I’m out,” I said as I headed toward the door, not bothering with any other kind of back-and-forth. I was ready to get out of that room, to get away from Killian and the rest of the guys. I wanted to track down a goddamn drink, and try to block out the way Halo’s face had looked when he’d lain naked under me and told me he could watch me fuck all night. I also wanted to forget how cool and collected he’d been this morning telling me how he was saving me from an awkward morning after, because as far as I was concerned, this was feeling pretty fucking awkward.

  As I slammed out of the studio, I stormed down the hall in the direction of the stairs, my goal and intention crystal clear. I was about halfway up them when I heard my name, and there was no mistaking the voice that had called it. After hearing Halo shout it, curse it, and moan it in my ear the night before, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get the sound out of my head. But as I came to a stop, three stairs from the top, I shut my eyes and shoved those thoughts aside.

  “Viper? Wait up, would you?”

  I told myself I should just keep going, but my annoyance only increased when I ignored my stupid self and turned around to see Halo coming up the stairs after me. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a tight-fitting shirt that showed off all his lean muscles, and with his hair tied back off his face, I could see the light stubble lining his angular jaw. I had the insane urge to take the couple of steps down, grab hold of his shirt, and yank him in close enough that I could scrape my teeth along his jaw. But with the mood that was riding me, I knew I couldn’t temper whatever would happen after that, and since I didn’t know what was going through the angel’s head today, I kept my distance.

  “What’s the problem, Halo?” I wasn’t sure when I’d consciously decided to revert to using Halo’s name instead of the nickname I’d used from day one. But the change wasn’t lost on him, judging by the sting of dismissal that flashed through his eyes.

  “Um, I…” Halo blinked as his words trailed off, then he glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw we were still alone, he seemed to find that good enough to move up the stairs closer to me. “Are you okay?”

  Deciding to play this his way, I slipped my hands into my pockets and eyed him for a beat. “I’m just peachy. You?”

  Halo swallowed, his tongue coming out to worry his lower lip as he nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. You just seem—”

  “What?” I said, and took the final step down so Halo had to angle his head up to look me in the eye. “What do I seem to you, Halo?”

  Halo’s lips parted, his eyes narrowing a fraction as though he were trying to work out what was going through my head. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about. But since he’d been the one to put me in this fabulous mood, the last thing I would do was make this easy on him. “What?”

  “Halo.”

  I chuckled, the sound strained even to my own ears. What the fuck was the matter with me? Oh, that’s right, I’m an asshole. But then I reminded myself that Halo had started this.

  I shrugged. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yeah. But you never—”

  The sound of the doorbell pealing through the mansion cut off Halo’s words, but it wasn’t hard to see where he’d been going with them. You never call me that—that was where he’d been going, and thank fuck for the doorbell, because if he’d actually said those words to me, I would’ve grabbed him, shoved him up against the wall of this staircase, and damn the consequences.

  As it was, the sound of the bell had the others exiting the studio, judging by the slamming door and chatter that followed. I took a step back from Halo and said, “I’m gonna go see who’s here,” and before he could say another word, I turned and took the rest of the stairs away from him as though there was a fire burning my ass—and considering what I’d just been about to do, I’d say that was a pretty accurate description.

  Four

  Halo

  I STARED ACROSS the long dining room table at the man who’d claimed the seat beside Viper. Ever since the guy had come barreling in, along with a handful of others, all of whom the band seemed to know, he’d been plastered to Viper’s side.

  Even now, while the rest of us dug into the steak and potatoes we’d had delivered, the shaggy-haired guy—Ansel or some stupid name like that—wouldn’t stop whispering in Viper’s ear. Ten bucks said the hand he had under the table wasn’t on his own leg.

  “Halo, tell everyone what Carly Wilde said to you after we did her show,” Killian called out from the head of the table.

  Viper’s head lifted, his eyes meeting mine before I forced my gaze away.

  “Sorry, what?” I said.

  “Carly Wilde,” Killian repeated. “What was it she said to you?”

  “Oh. Uh…” I remembered exactly what she said, but I wasn’t self-indulgent enough to repeat it, and not to a bunch of people I’d just met. “I must’ve forgotten.”

  Killian frowned like he knew I was lying. “She called him an angel and told him if he ever wanted to fall to the dark side…” Then he waggled his brows, and I flushed.

  “She said that shit to you?” Viper’s voice was like a freshly sharpened blade, and when I looked his way, his eyes narrowed.

  I could feel everyone else staring, and the last thing I wanted to do was turn the focus on me, so I shrugged. “She was joking.”

  “Bullshit,” Jagger said. “I was there, and the woman was practically drooling. She slip you her number?”

  I recoiled. “No, she didn’t give me her number. Jesus.”

  “Dude, you could’ve fucked Carly Wilde. She’s hot. I’d bang her,” the guy sitting on the other side of shaggy-haired dude—or Ansel, or whatever his name was—said, and Viper shot a glare in his direction.

  “No thanks.” I poured myself another round of vodka and tossed a lemon slice in the glass. Viper was practically boring a hole into my head with the force of his stare, but I didn’t look at him again. I was still confused about what the hell had happened earlier. This morning he’d seemed fine, but as the day wore on, Viper’s mood had deteriorated, and though he had
n’t outright said it, I couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow my fault. I replayed our short conversation, trying to put my finger on the issue, but Viper hadn’t given any indication that he was upset at the time, so…maybe it wasn’t me? Maybe something had happened after I’d gone down to the studio?

  But if that was true, then why was he calling me Halo now? Since the time I met him, I’d always been “Angel,” and for some reason, the name change bothered me more than his foul mood.

  “So you’re from New York too?” the girl beside me—Vanessa—said. She’d been perfectly nice, trying to engage me in small talk, since the others all knew each other and had inside jokes I knew nothing about. Not that I cared. I was too busy trying not to notice what was happening across from me.

  I swallowed down some vodka before answering. “Yep.”

  She waited for me to add on to that, but when I didn’t, she said, “Pretty different from Miami, huh?”

  Viper had gone back to ignoring me, his head inclined toward Ansel as the guy continued whispering in his ear, and when a sexy curve tilted Viper’s lips, my stomach lurched.

  “Mhmm.” I kept drinking as I watched the scene in front of me unfolding. Would that guy end up in Viper’s guesthouse tonight? I already knew the answer to that.

  “Ansel’s been talking about nothing but Viper since he heard you guys were in town,” Vanessa said, her gaze following mine.

  My jaw ticked as the alcohol buzzed in my veins. “Is that right?”

  “Oh yeah. He said they hooked up last time the band was in Miami, and I didn’t believe him, but I guess he was telling the truth, huh?”

  “Looks like it,” I muttered. You knew what would happen. You know who Viper is.

  Yeah, I did, but it’d been less than twenty-four hours since I’d been the one in his bed underneath him, and already he had a replacement. It stung. Of course it fucking did. It didn’t matter how prepared I thought I’d been for the reality of what would happen after spending a night with Viper—the actual aftermath was a harder pill to swallow.

  It would help if he’d been shit in bed. But to have the most intense sexual experience of my life and then pretend tonight that it never happened? While Viper sat there looking so gorgeous and more edible than the damn steak on my plate? Ugh.

  I ran a hand over my hair before remembering I’d tied it back this morning, and then sighed. How long did I have to sit here and watch Ansel pawing at Viper before I could leave? Would this be the way things were now? Me sitting on the periphery, watching Viper and his endless conquests?

  You have to be okay with it. This is what you signed up for.

  But foolish me for thinking I’d be satisfied with one night with Viper. We’d never discussed it, but I’d stupidly assumed whatever this attraction was between us would lead to more than just a one-night stand. Nothing as deep as a relationship—I wasn’t delusional, after all—but a casual hookup every now and then.

  Yeah, that’s not happening, I thought, as I imagined throwing daggers into the side of Ansel’s head. Focus on something else. Anything else.

  I threw back the rest of the vodka and then laid my hand over the back of Vanessa’s chair, angling my body to face her. She was definitely attractive, with heart-shaped lips and long, glossy black hair your hands could get lost in. As she smiled at me, I thought about how easy it would be to turn on the charm and end up with her slim body underneath me, writhing until the early morning hours.

  But the thought didn’t make my cock jerk in my pants. No, that honor belonged to the man across the table, the one with the hard, well-defined body and the sinful mouth that could wreck you with one kiss.

  I brought my hand up to stroke the dimple in Vanessa’s cheek. “I like these.”

  “You do?” Her smile widened. It was a beautiful smile, her pink lips full and wanting. Still, my dick refused to take notice. “Are you, um…busy tomorrow night?”

  “You askin’ me out?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Well, there’s a bonfire at the beach, and it’s always a good time…”

  “You’ll be there?”

  She nodded.

  But before I could answer, a low growl reverberated across the table, and Viper shoved his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. He downed the rest of his drink and slammed it on the table as he got to his feet.

  “Goin’ out,” he said, before he stalked off toward the back door that led to his guesthouse. I stared after him, belatedly noticing that he’d left alone. Ansel was half standing, his face almost comical as it fell and he began to sputter. For a moment, it looked like he’d follow Viper, but the guy next to him put his hand on Ansel’s arm and said something in his ear, and Ansel sat back down, not looking happy at all about the turn of events.

  I almost smirked until I realized Viper hadn’t exactly left with me either.

  As I dropped my arm from the back of Vanessa’s chair, Killian tossed a balled-up piece of his roll in my direction.

  “Yo, Halo,” he said, his elbows on the table and the index fingers of his interlocked hands pointing toward where Viper had disappeared. “Why don’t you go make sure he’s cool.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, to comment that he’d been a dick all day, and I was pretty sure I’d only make things worse. But then Killian cocked his head ever so slightly, a knowing look on his face, and fuck. He knew. Somehow, he knew about Viper and me.

  Pushing my chair back, I tossed my napkin onto my plate, and when I got to my feet, I was aware of everyone’s eyes on me yet again. But fuck it. I didn’t know any of these people, and they didn’t know me, so I threw out an “Excuse me,” and retraced Viper’s steps.

  Out of view of the dinner party, my hand paused on the door that led outside. I didn’t know if Viper would even want to talk to me, but somehow I needed to squash this tension that had infiltrated today. He and I needed to clear the air, and it needed to be now.

  With a deep inhale, I opened the door.

  Five

  Viper

  FUCK THIS DAY.

  That was the thought playing on a loop in my mind, as I slammed out the patio doors of the mansion and made my way across the back lawn toward the guesthouse. The night had chased the sun away, and as I stormed toward my sleeping quarters, I tried to shove aside the image of Halo and that Vanessa chick getting all nice and cozy at dinner.

  When Ansel and his crew had first shown up, I’d thought it would be the perfect distraction for my shitty mood. Ansel was the kind of guy who was down for a good time with no strings attached. He was the ideal partner for someone like me. Someone who wasn’t interested in forming attachments to the men he took to his bed, and while I’d known he’d been up for exactly that—since he’d guided my hand over the blatant invitation that could be taken no other way—my interests had stayed firmly fixated on the one seated across from me. The one who’d snuck out of my bed earlier that morning. The one who, for all intents and purposes, had dismissed me as though he was done…with me.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I shoved my fingers through my hair. This was so unlike me. I wasn’t the kind of guy who cared whether someone liked me. I wasn’t some starry-eyed virgin expecting proclamations of love, or dinner dates, or walks on the fucking beach. But when Halo had turned his body toward Vanessa and brushed his fingers over her cheek, making her blush like a damn schoolgirl, all I could think about was the way he’d blushed when I traced my finger along his—and I saw red.

  Yeah, I thought, as I kicked a stone off the path I was walking along. Fuck this night too.

  I had just about made it to the guesthouse when the sound of gravel crunching underfoot behind me caught my attention.

  Jesus, don’t let that be Ansel, I thought, because while I’d been ready to let him distract me at the beginning of dinner, by the end of it, I hadn’t wanted anyone’s attention but Halo’s. And since that was out, I was thinking that locking myself in the guesthouse and getting off to the idea of the way he’d look
ed on his hands and knees last night would just have to do.

  Not bothering to stop and acknowledge whoever it was behind me, I kept going, determined to get the hell away from anyone I might offend more than I already had tonight. I wasn’t exactly in the socializing kind of mood. I was more in a fuck-the-angel-out-of-my-head kind of mood, even if it was only me and my fist doing the trick.

  As I reached the door to the guesthouse, I pulled out a key and unlocked it, but it wasn’t until I turned the knob and shoved open the door that I heard, “Viper.”

  There, standing in the exact same spot he’d stood the night before, was Halo. But unlike last night, the expression on his face wasn’t one full of amped-up lust and arousal. No, currently stamped across the angel’s face was confusion tinged with an underlying hint of…irritation.

  Yeah, well, join the fuckin’ club. I’d been irritated since I woke up at three in the morning and found him gone. I shoved my hands into my pockets and took a step toward him, and as I drew near, Halo glanced over his shoulder, no doubt to check we were alone. We were.

  “There a problem?” I asked, which was a fucking laugh, because of course there was a problem. He was standing right in front of me, right within touching distance, and for the first time in my life, I had no idea if I was allowed to touch—or if he wanted me to.

  This was why I didn’t do relationships. Why I didn’t play games. I sucked at trying to work out what another person was thinking. When it was just a fuck, it was clear, obvious—he got his, I got mine, everyone felt fucking amazing. There were no uncomfortable moments, no feelings to navigate. But this second-guessing shit? I failed every single time.

  Halo’s eyes flashed at my glib question; clearly he was coming to the limit of his tolerance when it came to my bullshit, but I wasn’t in the mood to censor myself tonight.