by Eden Summers
She had to give him props, though. He continued to play effortlessly through the duration, not losing his feel for the music even when Felicity kissed him on the cheek and then proceeded to saunter toward Mason to help him finish singing the song.
It was a phase. A juncture.
Sean said she had nothing to worry about. He’d promised. But Ryan had been committed to Julie for a long time. An outburst of sexual frustration was inevitable. An explosion of testosterone and lust had always been in the cards, and Leah had been destined to have a front row seat.
A knock sounded on her door, then the deep drawl of Mason’s voice. “Open up, woman.”
Perfect. A punching bag was exactly what she needed.
“What?” She yanked the door open with a snarl.
“Good afternoon to you, too, sweetie.” He beamed a smile as his wavy hair tempted her to pull it from his unnaturally gorgeous head. “You always know how to make me feel special.”
“Are you here to apologize for yesterday?”
His lips turned downward and he shook his head. “Nope.”
She made to slam the door but he stopped the progression with his palm. He nudged into her room, assuming ownership, and made her suite his castle.
“What ya looking at?” He focused on her laptop sitting on the small kitchenette counter and pressed play.
“Apparently, it’s Ryan instigating a live ménage.”
Mason snorted. “Slight exaggeration.”
“Do you still think that’s normal behavior?”
“Who cares about normal? He was having fun.”
“And so were you. I bet Sidney was happy to see you arm in arm with Ryan’s not-so-fake girlfriend.”
He nodded, his face contemplative as the silenced video continued to play in a loop. “She knows it was innocent, and that I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship.” He made the two steps to her bed and sat on the edge. “She was also on the first flight out of New York just to make sure. ETA twenty minutes.”
Leah smirked. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Don’t pull the woman-code card. Sidney knows that no one else will ever compare to her. All that video did was give her an excuse to come here and get fucked into submission.”
Leah closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t mention your sex life in front of me again.”
“Jealous?”
She glared. “No, I actually strive to have a healthy love life of my own one day, and I don’t want to ever, ever have the unsightly images of you in my head.”
“I’m sure losing me as a potential husband candidate will haunt you ‘til your dying day.”
“Get out.” She pointed toward the door. “Just go.”
“How ’bout we reroute the conversation back to Ryan instead?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling.
“You need to talk to him.”
“I plan on it. We already spoke about catching up today. I’m merely waiting for his call.”
“But you only have plans to talk about him. Not you.” He lost the smug expression. “I know I’m an asshole most of the time, but I hate seeing you like this. When you look at him, we all get an insider’s guide to the shit going through your head. We know how much you’re swooning over him.”
There were no words this time, only another adamant point of her finger toward the door.
“Don’t play dumb, Leah. We’ve got your back on this.”
No, they didn’t. She was on her own. Always had been. Reckless Beat were a team. The five of them family. Yes, she had her own place within the hierarchy, but essentially, it was her job on the line if she breached the terms of her management contract. They wouldn’t lose sales. Their fan base wouldn’t even hear about her departure. The five of them would carry on, living the dream, while she lost everything.
“What exactly am I supposed to do?”
“Tell him you love him and all that shit.”
“Get the fuck out.” She jabbed her finger toward the door hard enough to hurt her shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now.”
“I’m not moving.” He reiterated the statement by lying back on the bed, hands behind his head. “I honestly thought the two of you would be a sure thing after that kiss. He was all broody and you were all meek and kittenish. It was a recipe for rough and dirty sex.”
“I was not meek.”
“Looked that way to us.” He shrugged. “We finally thought you’d ditch the puppy dog eyes and latch on with both claws.”
He was goading her, pushing, poking, so damn close to succeeding.
“You finished?” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down.
“You ready to talk to him?”
She swung around and closed her laptop, prepared to ignore him for as long as possible. They’d only arrived in Cincinnati thirty minutes ago. Her bag was still packed and sitting beside the door. She needed to wash the sludge of travel from her skin and the tiredness from her eyes.
“I’ve got things to do. Including getting showered and ready for public consumption.” She reached for the top button of her blouse and undid it, exposing cleavage.
“Go for it.” He watched her, zero interest in his arrogant eyes. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
“I’m undressing, Mason.” She released another button, playing a game of chicken she was no longer confident of winning. “Sidney will kick your ass if she finds out you’re here.”
“Don’t go assuming anything about Sid. She’d do anything for Ryan if given the chance.”
“Really? She’s on her way here because you got close with another singer on stage. Do you really think she’s not going to care if you see me naked?”
“Seen it all before. You’re just another one of the guys.”
“Except for the double-Ds and vagina.” She skipped the money-shot button and descended to the bottom of the blouse, flicking another open. “You know I’ll tell her.” She slowed her progression, running out of options.
“Do you mind if I take video?” He wove a hand from behind his head and reached down to dig his cell from his pants pocket. “Ryan might appreciate a bird’s eye view of what he’s missing.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mason.” Stubborn, arrogant prick. “Get the hell out.”
He chuckled. “I will when you admit you love him.”
She looked him head on and would’ve tried to deny it if she could muster conviction. Alas, she was clearly lacking her usual feminine wiles. Instead, she raised her chin and sucked in a breath through her nose, flaring her nostrils.
“What’s the big deal?” he continued. “Are you scared of being happy? ’Cause, believe me, I get it.”
No, he didn’t. He didn’t realize this was about him. And Blake. And Mitch. And Sean. They were all the reasons why she couldn’t be with Ryan. “I’m not going to ask you again.” He didn’t understand that losing her position was only devastating because in turn she’d lose her Reckless family. She didn’t have a life outside the band. Without them, she had nothing.
“And I’m not going to let your contractual obligation bullshit fly anymore.”
Too far. Way too far. He skipped straight past the mildly annoying status and hit the detonator for full-scale war.
“Contractual obligations bullshit?” She stepped forward and slapped his spread knees together. “I have a black and white document that stipulates I can’t have any sort of sexual relationship, casual or otherwise, with any of my clients. It states in precise terms that I’ll be fired, without warning, and I’ve seen it happen. That’s not bullshit.”
“We could get around it.”
“How?” God damn, she hated his smug superiority. “You’re not as almighty as you think you are, Mason. I thought you would’ve learned from the complete lack of control you have in the Grander situation.”
“That’s different.”
“You’re so
naïve.” Incredulity slid through her veins, through every inch of her body. “How is it different?”
“Because love prevails. Etcetera, etcetera.”
“Of course.” She waved a hand in the air. “Just like that, my troubles would melt away, all in the name of love.”
“You know Ryan would do anything for a chance with you.”
“Do I? He’s not even divorced yet. And to me, it already looks like his ticket is full.” She hiked a finger over her shoulder. “Do I need to show you the video again? Or tell you how I caught him taking those women to his room when we were in Atlanta?”
“You’re not stupid, Leah. You know he feels something for you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have wasted years of your life pining over him.”
She wanted to deny him, to announce he was entirely wrong and needed to grow up. But as much as she hated admitting it, he was right. She hadn’t been able to get Ryan off her mind for all these years because there had always been a reciprocated affection in his eyes. There’d always been a hopeful spark even though he never acted upon it.
“I know you’re worried about keeping your position as our manager, but trust me, it’s gotta work itself out. The five of us are here to look out for you if shit goes south.”
There was no ‘if’ involved. There would be problems. Big ones. But her thoughts brushed over them, the slightest nudge of possibility edging its way into her consciousness after so long denying her fantasies. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Talk. That’s all it takes.”
“And say what?”
“Tell him how you feel and see where it leads.” He sat and pushed from the bed. “Come on. I’ll escort you to his room.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
“Then let me rephrase—please allow me to walk you to his door because you sure as shit will chicken out if I don’t.”
Not true…OK, maybe he had a point.
Her steps were cautious as she made her way to the door and retrieved her room key from the holder. Excitement and apprehension waged war inside her chest, both fighting for supremacy.
“You might want to do up your buttons.” His gaze raked her body, from her face to her toes. “Unless that’s the look you’re going for. The skin show isn’t doing any harm, that’s for sure.”
Shit. She clutched at her gaping blouse and cringed. She was shoeless and wearing crumpled pants, her make-up would be faded, too, and her hair a mess. All she needed was a belly rounded from pregnancy and she’d be a redneck’s ultimate fantasy.
“I need to freshen up.” She turned, prepared to postpone her stupidity and was yanked into Mason’s side with a firm hand.
“Nope.” He kept pulling her down the hall. “You’ve come this far. You’re not going back.”
“I’ve walked two steps outside my hotel door.”
“Yep, and it’s good enough for me.”
Christ. This wasn’t going to end well. The least he could do is allow her to look pretty when her life turned to shit. “You’re not the most trustworthy person, Mason.” She rebuttoned her blouse, keeping up with his steady pace. “I’m going to regret listening to you.”
He met her gaze, his seriousness unsettling. “In this, I wouldn’t steer you wrong. There’s no Reckless without you. Just like there’s no band without Blake if we need to extend the tour. We’re a team, and once and for all we want to see the two of you together.”
“That was awfully sentimental.”
“I know.” He screwed up his face. “I think I vomited a little in my mouth.”
She laughed, but the humor didn’t settle inside her. She was too anxious. Too nervous and apprehensive and hopeful. The overwhelming sensations only intensified on the elevator ride to Ryan’s floor, each step toward his door a battle not to vomit.
Mason knocked hard below the room number and backed away. “My work here is done.”
“What?” She grabbed his arm. “You can’t leave me now.”
“You expect me to hold your hand?”
She glared. No. She was Leah freakin’ Gorman. But in this she needed something. Anything to stop her from running. “Please, Mason.”
He sighed and gave a dramatic eye roll. “Fine, I’ll help you out, as long as you know you owe me.”
“I know,” she muttered. And there was no way he’d let her forget.
Chapter Nine
Ryan watched Hannah and Felicity joke around in his hotel kitchen. Since the secret of their relationship had come to light, the women hadn’t taken their hands off each other. They were always kissing or stroking or shirt-pulling. They were an extended version of puppy love he admired the shit out of. And every minute he spent with them was another minute where his loathing for Grander increased. He didn’t know how anyone could begrudge their connection. It was archaic, and yet another reason why he was glad Reckless was cutting ties with them after this tour.
Accepting homosexuality wasn’t enough, not when gay artists were judged for their sexual preference before being praised for their talent. But change wouldn’t happen in Ryan’s lifetime. Not when companies like Grander were controlling the industry.
“What’s wrong?” Felicity sauntered from the kitchen, eying him with concern.
“Nothin’, why?”
“You were staring into space with a disappointed look on your face.”
“I was wondering how I didn’t pick up on the gay vibe. It should’ve been a clear sign when you weren’t interested in all this.” He indicated his lazy sprawl on the floor with a wave of his hand.
“Come on.” Hannah laughed. “The name of her band is S…licker, as in, slit licker.”
“Oh.” He exaggerated the epiphany with an eye-roll. “Now it all makes sense.”
“And her nickname is Flick, like flicking the bean…or mine, to be more precise.”
“Nice visual.”
Felicity waggled her brows. “Feel free to watch any time.”
“I’m good.” He chuckled. “And what about your drummer and lead guitarist? Do Carl and Trent know?”
“Yeah, they know, and they’re supportive. But our relationship is like a noose around their neck. Which is another reason not to rock the boat with the powers that be.”
Both women adopted a somber expression, the weight of guilt clearly visible in their eyes. Ryan didn’t know the men of Slicker. He’d barely spoken more than a few words with them, and still he didn’t envy their shitty situation. Getting a big break in the music industry while also being at the mercy of a homophobic record label wasn’t the best start to a career. “How did the two of you meet?”
Hannah came to stand in front of the sofa, peering down at him. “In a candy store on the outskirts of Dallas—”
“Han was reaching for the last packet of Pixie Stix—”
“A nasty fight ensued—”
“Really?” He wondered if they knew how cute it was to listen to them finish each other’s sentences.
“No. Not really.” Hannah winked. “I wasn’t looking as I grabbed for the packet and our hands brushed.”
“I told her to take it because it was only for my brother, but she insisted it was mine, even though I later found out she has a stubborn addiction to the stuff.”
“An addiction to Pixie Stix?” He raised his brows. “That’s hardcore.”
“You better believe it.” Hannah reached for her pants pocket and pulled out a straw-like, cylindrical tube. “I can’t afford to pay the rent some weeks, but I’ve always got one of these with me.”
Felicity placed a smacking kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. “She’d snort the stuff if she could.”
Ryan reached up, took the straw from her hand and inspected the candy he hadn’t seen since his childhood. “I’m surprised you haven’t already.”
Hannah smirked. “I’m game if you are.”
“You want me to snort this?”
“Why not?” She grabbed it from his hand, ripped open the top, and maintained a
mischievous grin as she tipped the contents onto the table. “How can I cut it?”
These women were crazy, and the best relief he could possibly have from all the fucked up shit he was trying to ignore. “Allow me.” He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a credit card.
As he cut the powder into lines she shuffled around the table and descended, making herself at home in his lap. There was nothing sexual about it. He didn’t have the right appendages to make her happy. He knew, because she hadn’t been shy in mentioning it over and over and over again.
There was a knock at the door as he wove his arm around her waist, enjoying the connection no matter how platonic.
“I’ll get it.” Felicity made for the door.
“I’m not sharing my haul with any more people,” Hannah called.
Felicity snickered as she pulled the door wide, exposing Leah. The important parts of him responded, his lips curved into a smile, his chest thumped, and his dick slid from hibernation, too.
“Is Ryan…”
Her sweet question vanished under an expression of horror. Mason came into view at her side, the both of them focusing on the woman between his legs, then the white powder on the table.
“Oh, shit,” Mason whispered, stepping inside.
Shit was right. He’d never seen that look on Leah’s face before, the one pinning him with anguish. Hannah’s continuous laughter didn’t help either, or Felicity’s snort.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Leah backtracked, her gaze still darting between the misleading evidence before she fled from view.
“Damn it.” He grabbed Hannah’s hips and lifted her off his lap. Then he was jogging for the hall. “Wait.”
Mason’s hand slammed into his sternum, stopping him at the door. “Drugs, really?”
“No, dickhead. It’s sugar from a Pixie Stix. We were fooling around.” He shoved the hand away and continued after Leah. “Hold up.”
She was already half way down the hall, her legs pounding out the distance, her posture lethal. “Not now, Ryan.”