Wicked Serenade: a Lost in Oblivion Collection

by Quinn, Cari

  Her lips curved in spite of the pang between her breasts. How could words that filled her up also tear her down? She didn’t want to cling. Didn’t want to need him or his parents too much. This situation, like all the others in her life, was just temporary.

  Wonderful, absolutely, but temporary.

  She was being silly. Brent was giving her his room, for God’s sake. He was probably a great guy. He had to be, didn’t he, coming from such an amazing family? The twist in her belly whenever she glimpsed his face in family pictures didn’t mean anything. He just looked so much like Gray that it was disconcerting. They had the same thickly lashed gray eyes, the same dark hair that tended to curl if not cut super short. Matching strong jaws and lush lips. They could’ve practically been identical twins if not for the fact that Gray was growing his hair out past his shoulders and had more definition in his arms and shoulders. He had a guitarist’s upper body whereas Brent had a bit of a beer pooch. Otherwise, they were scarily similar.

  But hey, that should make it easier to get to know Brent, right? That he looked like someone she lo—cared about a lot had to help. Besides, he would only be home for the weekend to pack up the rest of his stuff to take back with him to his off-campus apartment. She was getting his room permanently…for however long forever lasted here.

  His bedroom was large like Gray’s and the enormous space overwhelmed her in the best way. She could already picture having her girlfriends over to sit on the fluffy white rug in front of the bay windows that overlooked the backyard with its kidney-shaped pool and brightly colored deck chairs. Their voices would fill the room with their laughter and happiness, chasing away the monsters that lived not in Jazz’s closet, but in her head.

  If she actually had any girlfriends, she would’ve pictured that.

  Instead she visualized sitting on the bed with Gray, notebooks and music composition books spread out between their knees, guitars on their laps, surrounded by the scent of erasers and Cherry Coke and Gray’s minty aftershave. She’d never seen him anything but clean-shaven, which was why it was a surprise to feel his stubbled cheek scraping over hers.

  “Stop thinking so hard. You’re making my brain hurt.”

  “Sorry. Bad habit.” She laughed and shifted to kiss his cheek, something she’d done a million times. She’d kissed his cheek the morning before she’d watched him go down on his latest girl, kissed it again the next day when he’d come down to breakfast and looked at her with heavy, brooding eyes. They’d never spoken of those moments when she’d played voyeur. If it was up to her, they never would.

  But now there were new moments, a new tension unwinding between them as her careless cheek kiss glanced off the corner of his mouth, so close that she swore she tasted cherry cola. His wary gaze shot to hers and he hooked his arm around her waist, drawing her in even as his mouth twitched with all the things he didn’t say.

  “Sorry,” she repeated. God, her cheek was still tingling from the imprint of his stubbled jaw. “Missed.”

  “Stop apologizing, Jazz.” Gray eyes so like the mists over the San Francisco Bay drifted over her face. But they weren’t cold. They were the day’s warmth burning off the fog until only heat lightning remained. She felt the sizzle and simmer in her bones, in her blood. “You have nothing to be sorry for, ever. You’re perfect.” His lips were a heartbeat away. He angled his head and they skated closer for a fraction of a second. Lifetimes passed in that instant yet they weren’t nearly long enough to feel all of this. “Absolutely perfect.”

  She lifted her hand but she wasn’t fast enough to hold him still. That was Gray. Life. Movement. Pure energy captured in human form. He was already moving away, striding through the dining room doors and calling out to the guy who waited on the other side with his parents. His brother. His family.

  She wasn’t truly his sister and could never—would never—be more.

  Ten

  Now

  Splitting up the band? What the hell?

  Deacon lumbered to his feet. “What is that supposed to mean? You can’t split us up. That’s not your call to make.”

  One of Lila’s pale blonde eyebrows lifted. “Oh, you’d be surprised what calls I can make, Mr. McCoy. However, in this case, you misunderstand me. I’m not splitting up the band.” A hint of a smile crept across her mouth. “For long.”

  “I’ve had enough of this shit for one night. Call us back when you’re done speaking in riddles.” Nick shoved out of his chair and had made it halfway to the door when Lila barked out a command.

  “Sit. All of you. And listen with the things on the side of your head instead of the big gaping maws under your noses.”

  Jazz sniffled and tried to discreetly run her thumbs under her eyes. Simon bumped his chair into hers then slid his arm around her shoulders, giving her an excuse to lean into his embrace. After the near band breakup a couple of months ago, things weren’t the same between her and Simon anymore, but she wasn’t about to fight that battle right now. She was tired of fighting to hold on to the pieces of her life.

  It was nice, just now, to be held.

  Her gaze connected with Nick’s across the table. His Adam’s apple bobbed in the stubbled column of his throat but he didn’t look away.

  After tonight, she had a feeling he was willing to hold her too, in a much different way than Simon or Deak. Somehow he still was, even after that mess that had been the threesome with Gray.

  And what was stopping her from taking that comfort if it was offered? Why shouldn’t she feel good too?

  Because he’s not who you want and it’s not fair to either one of you to settle.

  God, she hated that reasonable voice in her head sometimes. All the time lately.

  “When I said I intend to split the band up, I meant temporarily. For the ultimate good of Oblivion.”

  “Should we pull our pants down and bend over now or should we wait?”

  Jazz tried not to smile at Nick’s question but Simon choking his laughter into her hair didn’t help. Deak, on the other hand, sat stoic, stone-faced to the end. He was the best negotiator of all of them and wouldn’t concede even a smile until he knew what Lila had in mind.

  Jazz had to admire him for that, just as she admired him for managing to build a family in the middle of the craziness that was life for a new band on the road. If a little envy snuck in there from time to time, she figured that was natural. Harper would be starting to show soon. Hell, she was already glowing. They both were, Deak in a much more mansterly way, of course. They were new too, their marriage, their life together. But they were a unit.

  She wanted that so fucking bad.

  Kinda crazy that she’d achieved the dream of being in a semi-famous band but the one of settling down with a husband and family seemed to get farther away by the day. Not just any husband. It would always be Gray for her. Always.

  Lila sent Nick a withering look. “Please, don’t drop trou on my account. I’m not sure my heart could take the thrill. Now if we can continue…”

  Jazz blinked away the renewed prickling in her eyes and tried to focus on Lila. “Shouldn’t we discuss this when Gray’s here?”

  “I intended to do just that until Granny fell ill. Unless you can get him back here in the next ten, we proceed without him.”

  “No,” she whispered. “He’s gone.”

  “Then we’ll continue now.” Lila eased a hip on the table, putting Nick at her back as she tapped away on her tablet with her gleaming nails. “As of tomorrow, Oblivion is being sent away on a working sabbatical for a couple of weeks to get your shit straight. You’ll be split into two groups. Group one will have accommodations at the Santa Monica Inn and Spa. Group two will be stationed at a luxurious cabin. Thanks to some generous agreements we have with the owners of said properties, all expenses will be paid by Ripper Records, assuming you come back with material we can use for the record. If you don’t, your future monies will be deducted at an appropriate rate of repayment for the debt you have incurred
. A brief document outlining terms will be presented for you to sign forthwith.”

  “Forthwith this,” Nick exploded. “You’re breaking us up to send us to Disneyland and then if we don’t come back with the biggest toys, we gotta pay out the ass?”

  “Nicholas,” Deak said in a low voice. “Let the woman speak.”

  “Oh, I’m quite done. This is not optional. This is not a vacation. You are being sent to optimal locations in the hopes that maybe a change of venue will help you return our investment in you. I would advise all of you to be productive in the teams you’re assigned and come back with usable material in the time allotted.”

  “Or else what?” Simon wondered.

  “We’ll just leave it at or else for now.” Lila gave Simon a blinding smile and glanced at her watch. “Well, look at that. Almost midnight. You kids should go enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll meet you at eight a.m. sharp with your team assignments at Ripper Records. Gray too,” she added to Jazz.

  Jazz nodded. Yeah, rounding him up after his sexathon would just put the capper on her night.

  “Happy New Year, Oblivion.” With another smile and a pat on the head for Nick that had him snarling, Lila sashayed out of the room.

  “Finally,” Simon muttered, gently extricating himself from Jazz and bouncing to his feet. He made a beeline for the door. “See you party people later. I’ll catch a ride with the girls. You can take the van, Nicky,” he said over his shoulder on his way out.

  “I’m out of here too. Harper’s probably ready for bed by now.” Deak unfolded himself from his chair and cast a worried glance at Jazz. “You okay, Pix? Want to get a ride home with us?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks.” She squeezed Deak’s massive forearm. “I rode over with some of the roadies. I’ll just—”

  “I’ve got her.” Nick kept his focus on Jazz while he spoke to Deak. “Have a good New Year’s, man.”

  Deak stroked a big hand over her hair. “You good with this?”

  Jazz heard the question within the question and smiled. You good with dealing with him while he’s in full dick mode? She’d always felt like she understood Nick, even before they’d had the bright idea to spend some time together naked. “Yeah.” She reached back to squeeze his arm. “Tell Harper to call me tomorrow, k?”

  “Will do. Happy New Year, Pix.” After a minute, he sighed. “You too, Nick.”

  Then he was gone.

  “So.” Nick flexed his fingers. Like the other guitarist she knew, he seemed unable to keep his hands still. “Where did Gray really go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “C’mon, you have to know that I won’t make trouble—”

  “How do I know that? Based on your history of, oh, I don’t know, making trouble at every opportunity? Especially when it comes to me and Gray.”

  “You’re a unit.” When she only stared at him, he knotted his fingers together. “You and Gray. Can’t have one without the other.”

  She didn’t say anything. It didn’t feel very much like that at the moment, but that didn’t change the reality that her allegiance to Gray couldn’t be broken. The past year of mostly suck couldn’t erase all the millions of good memories they shared.

  Besides that, she didn’t want to hurt Nick. If even a shred of his feelings toward her remained from their…whatever the hell it had been, she didn’t want to twist the knife. She’d cared about him too, enough to have sex with him. Still cared despite what he’d done—tried to do—to the band with Simon.

  “You know our history,” she said, rubbing her gritty eyes. All she wanted right now was to check out from the world for a few hours. Morning and the class field trip would come all too soon.

  “I do. I also saw your future tonight.”

  “What future?”

  “The one where he runs off and leaves you holding the bag, and you’ll make any excuse in the world for him while he violates everything you think he stands for.”

  Her head snapped up. “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “No. I don’t. I don’t know you all that well either. But I know people. He’s…not in a good place,” he said finally, directing his attention out the window.

  “You don’t know him like I do,” she repeated, ignoring how the words echoed in her chest. So they were having a rough patch. That didn’t change who they were together. Gray was the best friend she’d ever have. She trusted him with her life. Her body. Her heart.

  He might not have much use for the second two things in that list, but she wasn’t going to demolish their relationship just because he didn’t want her like she wanted him. Too bad, so sad. She’d lived through worse in her life. So much worse.

  Besides, his shutting her out stung more than anything else. Even the sex. She might not have watermelons for breasts, but she’d been Gray’s confidant for years. His lying about needing to leave wounded her in a way nothing else could. And now she was sitting alone with Nick.

  Déjà vu was a freaking bitch.

  “You want to practice that song? ‘Captured’, was it? We can go back to the apartment, run through it together. You can use Simon’s guitar.”

  “Is that all you’re willing to let me use? I mean, let’s be clear about what’s going on here. You’re not just being a helpful bandmate. You have an agenda, right?”

  He cracked his knuckles and sprawled back in his chair, sending her a disarming smile that would’ve fooled most people. She’d gotten to know him better than most, not because he wanted to share himself with her, but because she’d made a study of him in the quiet moments when he didn’t know he was being observed. Partly to distract herself from Gray, partly to see if she’d been wrong that Nick had some good inside him in spite of how frigging hard he tried to prove that he didn’t.

  “That depends on you.”

  “Why?” she asked softly, trying to understand. “Why would you want to get involved in my mess again?”

  Something shifted in his golden eyes. “You look like you could use a friend tonight.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.”

  Oh, if only that were true. “What about you? Can you use a friend?”

  His mouth crooked into a semblance of a smile. “Damn sure better than having an enemy.”

  She smiled and rose. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “So I’m guessing that’s a maybe?” He crossed the room to open the door and ushered her out ahead of him.

  “That’s an ‘I’m sorry, but it’s not fair to you’.” She sighed. “Said with plenty of regret.”

  “Do you see me worrying about what’s fair?”

  “One of us has to. I didn’t before and you got caught in the middle.”

  His mouth lifted again. “Sometimes the middle’s a pretty hot place to be.”

  “Hell’s hot too. That doesn’t mean you want to hang out there for eternity.”

  “Nah. But for an hour or two, why not?” He shot a grin over his shoulder and led the way into the VIP room.

  Her smile faded as they stepped into chaos. The loud countdown by the guests indicated it was almost midnight, as did the number of faces turned toward the flat screen TVs tuned to the ball dropping in Times Square.

  Almost a new year and she didn’t have anyone to kiss. Yet again.

  Nick glanced at her, his expression miles more sympathetic than she would’ve given him credit for. “Your call, Jasmine,” he said quietly enough that only she could hear.

  Not a lot had felt like her call lately. She was tired of being tugged along in the wake from Gray’s ship. That didn’t mean she would make another colossal mistake just to avoid her loneliness for a little while longer.

  She leaned in just as the countdown hit one. “Happy New Year, Nick,” she murmured, kissing his cheek.

  He gripped her shoulders and offered her a cheek kiss as well, then eased back and shook his head. “I hope he realizes one of these days how lucky he is.”

  “Not sure about that
.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced toward where Deak and Harper were wrapped up in each other, smiling and kissing while he protectively cupped her growing belly. She wasn’t jealous. Nope, not even a little.

  Liar. She was so green Oscar the Grouch would think she was a long lost relative.

  “Hey. Look at me.” Nick tapped her chin until she did what he asked. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You need to tell Gray once and for all how you feel and force him to make a move.”

  She tugged him toward the corner of the room and leaned up on her tiptoes to speak near his ear so he could hear her over the noise. “Are you honestly giving me dating advice?”

  “Please. You two are so far past dating it’s insane. Just fuck already or get out of the bedroom.”

  It took a minute for his words to sink in. When they did, she let out a startled laugh and gripped his shirt, moving in close to speak once more. “You ready to split this party and head home to practice?”

  The grin he flashed her was pure sin. “Can’t imagine a hotter New Year’s Eve.”

  “Me either.” She grinned. “I’m totally lying.”

  “Me too.” He smacked her ass and dragged her toward the exit. “Now get a move on, Edwards. We have magic to create.”

  Things weren’t that bad. She had friends. She was part of a successful band. She could do anything she put her mind to. Which meant Nick was right. She needed to stop pretending she was going to make a move on Gray and actually do it, big-boobed-blondes aside. Whether he said yes or no, at least she wouldn’t be wondering anymore.

  Time to let the sticks fall where they may.

  * * *

  He was having a nightmare. That could be the only explanation for the litany of shit currently infiltrating Gray’s brain via a tinny voice on TV.

  “In entertainment news, we have the scoop on up-and-coming hard rock band Oblivion. Word on the street is that a red-hot love triangle is about to split the band apart. The band’s drummer, Jazz, looks like she has all she can handle of Oblivion’s guitarists in this undated pic. Last night’s show at Frenzy provided another opportunity for this scorching triangle to generate some heat, though from these pictures snapped at Sharkey’s Bar, it looks like Oblivion’s two guitarists aren’t as fond of each other as they are of the pint-sized drummer.”