by Salsbury, JB
“Good morning!” Bethany says in a super chipper voice, calling me out of my daze.
Ryder’s eyes snap up toward mine. Those blue pools widen a fraction, and his steps falter for a second before he mutters, “’Morning.”
“You ladies have a good time last night?” Bethany grins over her coffee cup in the most innocent way that I actually believe she’s being sincere.
The blonde blushes and tugs at her tiny skirt. “Last night and this morning.”
“Wonderful.” Bethany zeroes in on Ryder, and I’m still busy trying to find my voice as she asks, “And you? I assume you had a nice time last night?”
I don’t miss the way the brunette looks up at him as if she’s just as curious for his answer as I am.
He clears his throat, shifts on his feet, and his eyes meet mine for a millisecond that feels like a lifetime before he answers, “It could’ve been better.”
“Oh, bummer.” Bethany pouts.
“Better how?” I blurt and then wish I could take a step back and slam the door before I have to hear his answer.
With his feet planted firmly to the ground, he crosses his arms at his broad chest, tilts his head, and smirks. “I think you know.”
I’m already shaking my head. “I don’t think I do. Please, tell us. How could last night have been better for you?” I nod at the women. “Seems you had plenty to keep you busy.”
“You would assume that, wouldn’t you?”
The brunette tugs on Ryder’s sleeve. “I think we should go.”
He ignores her completely.
I shrug and sip from my coffee. “I think any decently intelligent person would.”
“That’s a shame. And here I thought you had some common sense.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you. How’s your girlfriend by the way? Rachel, right?” If I wasn’t looking for it, I may have missed the hardening of his jaw and flare of his nostrils at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. “I assume the night would’ve been better had she been here.”
“It’s complicated,” he grits through clenched teeth.
I flick a finger toward his chest. “And Rosie?”
His shoulders stiffen, and his lips part just barely as if to say, I can’t believe you went there.
“I’m sure she was complicated too, right?”
“Jesus,” he whispers.
“Ryder,” Bethany snaps. “I hope you’re praying and not blaspheming right in my face.”
He blinks and shakes his head, blowing out a defeated breath.
I smirk, knowing I won.
“Okay, ya know what?” Bethany steps in front of me to cut off my view from Ryder. “You three were clearly on your way somewhere, and we, um…” She steps back, forcing me to do the same, until we’re both in my room. “We have to braid each other’s hair, so, bye!” She slams the door and whirls around, her back to the door where she gasps. “Jesse was right!”
“What?” The coffee cup in my hand trembles, and I realize I’m shaking.
“You and Ryder!”
I back away and into the hotel room. “No.”
“Yes!”
“He has a girlfriend.”
She follows me into the room and circles around to see my face. “I’ve never heard him talk to anyone like that.”
I chuckle, but the sound is shaky. “What? You mean you’ve never seen him be an asshole?”
“No. I haven’t. He likes you.”
“We can hardly stand to be in the same space together.”
“Exactly. He’s pushing you away because he hates how much he wants you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Hello? Have you met my fiancé?” She shrugs one shoulder and drops to sit on the couch. “Let’s just say I have some experience with raging asshole men—not that he’s an asshole anymore, but in the beginning…” She shivers. “It was awful.”
“That’s not what this is.” My voice sounds weak because I remember how his hands ran possessively over my body last night.
“Look, all I’m saying is time will tell.”
Yes, time will tell. And by the time either of us confronts whatever it is growing between us, the tour will be over, and I’ll have an entirely new dilemma to face.
13
Ryder
Dammit, fuck!
What the hell was Jade doing standing in the hallway with a fucking coffee cup in hand? Who does that?
When her eyes zeroed in on the pretty brunette at my side, I knew she assumed I’d slept with the woman. I told her last night I belonged to someone else, which is why I wouldn’t take things farther with her, and yet she thinks so little of me that I’d then take a groupie back to my room and fuck her?
Ethan should’ve been the one walking the woman down the hallway, but when I was finished with my shower, he was passed out cold and bare-ass naked on the bed. The girls were up and getting dressed and I wanted them gone, so I made it happen.
She brought up Rosie. Talked about her like she was some forgotten fuck from my past. I clench and unclench my fists. My blood hums with the desire to stomp back to her room, bang her door down, and set her fucking straight.
“Ryder?”
I blink at the brunette who is staring up at me expectantly while I play brooding statue at the elevator bank. “Oh, uh…” I look around to see who’s on duty. “Johnny.”
The security guard nods.
“Would you escort these ladies to the lobby and make sure they get a cab home, on us.”
“Sure thing.” Jonny pushes the down arrow button.
“Tell Ethan to call me,” the blonde says, and at my confused look, she continues. “He told me he would.”
Of course he did.
A delicate hand slips around my arm. “Ethan has my number too,” the brunette says, and her thick, black eyelashes flutter. “Call me if you get bored on the road.”
I remove her hand from my arm and move backward. “That’s not going to happen, but you ladies have a nice life.”
They frown, and I spin around and head back to the hotel room to beat the shit out of Ethan.
* * *
“All I’m saying is Kevin Costner played a better Robin Hood than Russell Crowe.” Ethan tosses his hands up and slumps in his seat, having made his point.
Chris groans. “How can you say that? They were both terrible! Did you even see either of the movies?”
I’m acting interested in the argument between the two in order to avoid looking at Jade, who is sitting across the dressing room in the basement of the arena next to Bethany and Jesse.
After we all piled into an SUV that brought us here, Jade went to the bus while me and the rest of the band went in for sound check. We did some press, went to catering and ate, and after a shower and a fresh pair of clothes, we’re waiting for our turn to take the stage.
Rachel finally texted me back, saying she was working a double shift and wouldn’t be able to talk. I knew then I’d have to avoid Jade at all costs or I’d end up doing something I’ll regret. I probably wouldn’t regret it, but it would compromise my integrity, and I can’t let that happen.
I beat my sticks on the arm of the couch, running speed drills to warm up and trying like hell to keep my thoughts off the beautiful woman across the room. I catch movement, and my eyes are immediately drawn to it—oh, it’s only Bethany disappearing into the bathroom. I double-take when Jesse takes Bethany’s vacated seat and leans in close to speak to Jade.
My hackles jump for no good reason because Jesse isn’t a threat. He’s sell-his-soul in love with Bethany, but I still hate that he gets to be so close to Jade and I don’t. I also hate that she leans in to hear whatever he’s saying.
Mid-hit, my sticks freeze and I watch as whatever Jesse says makes Jade grin wide. What is he telling her?
She nods, all that thick, beautiful hair brushing against his forearm. I want to rip the appendage from his body and beat him with it. She looks so hot tonight in w
orn-out baggie jeans and a short sweater that shows off a hint of her smooth belly.
Jesse startles at something and slips away from Jade just as Bethany walks out of the bathroom and reclaims her seat. She has no clue what transpired just seconds before.
The door to the room swings open, and Brent strolls in. He casts an irritated glance toward Jade and Bethany but knows better than to say anything. Jesse has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to anyone making Bethany feel uncomfortable or unwanted. Looking at Jade, her eyes glued to the floor as if to stay off Brent’s radar, I’m understanding Jesse’s point more than ever.
“You guys are up.” He snaps his fingers like we’re dogs, and we amble our way out toward the stage.
Adrenaline warms me and amps up my pulse as the crowd chants Jesse’s name. I bypass the band, Jade, and Bethany and hop up to the drum platform. I don’t mean to do it but find I can’t help myself from taking one final look in Jade’s direction.
She’s at side stage next to Bethany, looking completely comfortable while smiling at something unseen. For a moment I picture her becoming a permanent fixture, not only in the band but in my life.
Jade
Tonight’s show isn’t any different from the others. The lineup of songs is the same, the music flawless, the crowd as loud as every other when they sing every lyric, and the band’s cohesive energy is spot-on. And yet, I’m practically vibrating out of my skin with nerves.
Not for me.
For Bethany.
At the end of every song, I watch Jesse carefully for the cue. As the last note of “Dirty Sanchez”—which to my surprise isn’t a song about nasty sex kinks but about a man telling dirty jokes—rings out through the arena, he turns and nods at me.
Oh God, that’s my cue.
“Tonight is a special occasion,” he says into the microphone, making the room erupt in cheers. “I’m gonna switch things up a bit.”
The stage lights dim, and the guitar tech brings Jesse an acoustic while a roadie sets two stools center stage.
I turn toward Bethany then. “I’m sorry,” I yell over the roar of the crowd.
Her already-bunched eyebrows bunch up even more when she looks at me. “What?”
I lean in close and cup my hand by her ear. “I’m sorry. I promised I’d do this!” I hook her by the elbow and start leading her to the stage.
“Hold on!” She digs her heels in, but she’s a tiny little thing, so I just pull her a little harder. “What are you doing?”
“Come on out here, babe.” Jesse’s soft coaxing seems to loosen her sneakers’ grip on the floor. He holds out his hand, and I give her a gentle shove in his direction.
She whirls around and mouths, I hate you.
“No, you don’t!” I clap and cheer along with the crowd smiling like crazy because as embarrassing as this must be for her, it’s also extremely romantic.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jesse says into the mic. “Let’s give it up for Jade—”
Whoa, what the fuck?
“—my partner in crime!”
The room explodes in cheers, and I turn and realize I’m no longer tucked safely in the shadow of the side stage. “Oh, shit…” I blink into a bright light shining directly in my face, then give a quick wave and run like hell back to the safety of darkness. Only once I get there, I realize it’s not safe anymore as Ryder, Chris, and Ethan stand there each with water in hand, and Ryder is sweaty and shirtless.
I turn before I get caught staring, pretending I’m interested in seeing what Jesse has in store even though he already told me he plans to sing the song “Anyone Can Say I Love You,” a song inspired by Bethany, to her on stage.
Jesse gives a brief introduction, assuming everyone who knows anything about him knows about Bethany. He then takes the stool opposite her and serenades her with a gut-wrenching rendition of the song. His voice strains at one point, and Bethany wipes tears from her cheeks. For what feels like the millionth time since I’ve been in their presence, a deep longing for what they have blooms in my chest along with hope. Maybe love is a real thing after all.
I tap at the corners of my eyes to keep the tears at bay as Jesse brings the song home with a note so powerful it cracks at the end. Bethany launches herself into his arms, and without hesitation, he pulls her between his legs and holds her there while her shoulders shake.
“Wow,” I say softly to myself because it’s too loud for anyone to hear me anyway. I clap right along with a room of twenty thousand screaming fans.
Ethan and Chris grab their instruments and move back toward the stage, and there’s a squeeze on my elbow as Ryder passes by me.
When our eyes meet, he smiles softly. I realize then a tear escaped my eye to stream down my cheek. Embarrassed he saw my weakness, I swipe at my face and try to play it off like it’s no big deal. His grin widens and then he laughs. He actually laughs at me!
Then he’s gone and back behind his drum kit. I’m staring at the space he just left when Bethany pushes up beside me and yells, “Okay, I forgive you because that was awesome!”
I blow out a long breath, wondering what just happened between me and Ryder, then turn toward her and grin. “It was phenomenal!”
* * *
The rest of the show goes off without any interruptions. I am, once again, stunned in awe of their talent.
Jesse and Bethany disappear to their bus immediately, which is no surprise to anyone. The sexual tension was so thick by the last song, I think everyone within a hundred-yard radius felt it.
I follow Ethan, Chris, and a gloriously shirtless Ryder to the dressing room where they disappear to take showers. Crewmembers flitter about the room packing up trunks before roadies come pick them up.
We must be in a hurry to get back on the road.
I do what I can to help, but this operation works like a well-oiled machine, and when the guys come out one by one, I hold a cotton bag to accept their dirties. And no, I don’t look at their underwear.
Okay, maybe I did a little.
Boxer briefs. My curiosity settles.
All the guys are in what I’ve come to think of as their pajamas—track pants or shorts, T-shirts, and their hair wet and their faces flush from hours of performing mixed with the heat from their showers.
Brent storms in barking orders, and I make sure to look useful by carrying the bag of dirty clothes.
“Here,” Ryder says, taking the hamper bag from me. “Let me.”
I tug it back. “It’s okay. I got it.”
This is the first exchange we’ve had since the uncomfortable conversation in the hotel hallway this morning, if I’m not counting our moment of eye contact during the show. Which I’m not. He’s being friendly enough, acting like nothing happened, a night-and-day difference from the hours of silent treatment he gave me all day.
He walks alongside me as if waiting for me to struggle with the minor load of clothes. Brent nods when I pass him, acknowledging my help. See, asshole! I’m willing to work for my ride west.
The cool mountain air slaps my cheeks heated from exertion and, there’s a chance, from Ryder’s proximity. Our bus is running, steam coming from the exhaust and the engine’s gentle hum calling us aboard so we can hit the road.
We get to the stairs, and Ryder swoops in and takes the bag from me before jogging up them.
Fine. I won’t argue. I let him take it and then climb into the bus.
Ethan hands me a beer. “Come on, Agent Jay. Let’s get drunk.” He winks.
I notice Ryder freeze in the hallway and glare at Ethan over his shoulder.
“No thanks.” I hand Ethan the beer back. “Last night I swore off alcohol forever.”
“Why’s that?” Chris takes a swig of his beer, and my gaze gravitates to Ryder when he meets us in the living room, taking the offered beer. His eyes refuse to leave mine, and a warm shiver slides down my spine.
“I didn’t think you were drunk,” Chris says.
How would he know? He was cryi
ng into his drink at the bar all night.
“I guess I just lost my taste for it.”
Ryder’s eyebrows lift, and I’m pretty sure I saw him smile before he lifted his beer bottle to his lips. If he’s sensing I’m talking about more than booze, he’s right.
Ethan drops down next to me. Oblivious to the tension buzzing between me and Ryder, he throws his arm over my shoulder and pulls me close. “That’s a shame.” Ryder looks at Ethan’s hand on my shoulder like he’s hoping to set it on fire. Ethan picks up the remote and focuses on the flat-screen TV. “Nothing better than a good buzz.”
Not when it means allowing a taken man to put his hands all over you. God, you’d think I’d learn my lesson!
“What are you doing?” Chris asks as Ethan types something into the search bar on the TV.
“Proving a point. What does it look like I’m doing?” Ethan cues up a movie.
“Robin Hood? I’m not watching this garbage,” Chris says but makes no attempt to move.
Ryder is leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, his fingers flying over the keys of his iPhone, sending a text.
“I’m too tired for Kevin Costner.” I slap my thighs, stand, and make my way to my locker-style closet that now holds a few items of my clothing. My skin electrifies when I pass Ryder, whose hair is still damp from his shower, his body giving off heat as well as the mouthwatering scent of his body wash. I greedily breathe him in and snag pajamas before disappearing into the bathroom.
Ryder
We need to talk. It’s important.
I watch text bubbles as Rachel types her reply, and I will her to type faster.
If I had any doubts about my intentions to end things with Rachel and pursue Jade, tonight erased them all.