by Kate Stewart
“What are you doing here?”
He addressed me directly, and Reid didn’t come to my defense. “I invited myself.”
Ben smiled, and I wondered if he remembered me, until he looked past my shoulder.
“She’s not with you?”
Reid looked between us with drawn brows. I explained quickly as two other guys sat on a red plastic couch, sipping beer mutely and eyeing me with interest. I addressed Reid first. “We met at the bar the night of the show. He gave us some tickets.”
“What the hell, Crowne?” one of the guys asked from the couch.
“She’s just here to watch us,” he said in a tone that told him there was no room for argument.
King Crowne had spoken. Still, I wanted the mic.
“She is going to sell a few articles to Austin Speak in a few months. I can profile you guys in one of them, if you all agree to it.”
Ben looked impressed. Reid’s eyes told me he didn’t believe a word I was saying. The two guys on the couch—one that looked like a hot Shaggy from Scooby Doo, and the other was a poster boy for Ink magazine with multiple piercings and gauged ears—shared a conspiratorial smile.
“She isn’t working for Speak,” Reid said as he walked over to the couch and took two hot beers straight from the carton.
“I had an interview with Nate Butler, the owner of Speak. He gave me six months to come up with a set of articles to sell.” Reid looked back at me with accusing eyes and then shrugged at the guys.
“Stay, baby, you’re welcome here,” Ben said as he walked up to me and threw an arm around my shoulders. Reid pressed a hot beer to my stomach in offering before I was ushered to the couch by Ben. Claustrophobia hit as I realized nothing else would fit in that room. The equipment was practically piled on top of itself. In a mere two steps, I was seated and silenced with a frothy hot beer. Ben made the introductions as Reid walked over to the drum set and inspected it.
“This is Rye,” he said, pointing to hot Shaggy, “and this is Adam.”
“Hey,” I said. “Stella Emerson.”
“STELLA!” Rye belted out. “Good movie! I love Rocky.”
Adam rolled his eyes and addressed me. “He’s better left stupid. Don’t bother to correct him. He’s indignant about being stupid.”
Rye furrowed his brow. “What, fucker? What did I say?”
“Told you,” he said with a chuckle. “Wrong movie, dick,” Adam said as he looked me over in a way that let me know I was his type. “It’s a Streetcar Named Desire.”
“Huh?” Rye said as he popped another beer.
“The movie,” Reid said patiently as Rye’s face twisted.
“Dumb as Chicken of the Sea Jessica Simpson, but plays the guitar like an old soul,” Adam said as he moved to stand. “What are we fucking with tonight?”
Ben tossed a yellow notebook on one of the amplifiers and nodded toward Reid.
“Wanna see if we can make this work?” Reid glanced over at it with a sharp nod before a painful attempt to tap on his set. It only lasted a frustrated minute before he chucked his sticks.
“You got it easy, remember that,” Adam warned.
The only sign of pain was the fast appearance of sweat that lined his forehead.
Ben interjected. “Don’t rush it, man. We’re talking weeks, and Jason said he was good for the next couple of gigs.”
Reid’s eyes met mine briefly. Maybe because he thought I would chime in, but I was done with the pep talk. Something about him behind that cheap set of drums had my curiosity piqued, and not just about his skill as a drummer, but about him. I had that lame women gene that made musicians seem like gods, but the wool had never fully been pulled over my eyes. I’d just been singed. I was safe for the moment, even with the full attention of hazel eyes and naturally stained, full red lips.
Ben watched us watch each other and sat down next to me. He smelled like green woods, and I found him adorable up close. He had that nice guy look with his cropped curly hair and beautiful sea blue eyes, but I knew he was the corrupting kind of nice guy. The kind that would leave you in a closet of a church pulling up your panties, wondering what in the hell happened.
Lexi was so screwed. I knew she would fall for him. I knew that second.
“So, where’s your friend?”
“Lexi.”
“She wouldn’t give me her name.”
“Because she’s smart. She’s not a game you want to play.”
Reid picked up the notebook and began to read the lyrics scribbled on it as Ben turned to face me, fully engaged.
“I’ll take her anywhere she wants to go.”
“She’d much rather see you sing,” I admitted honestly. “But I’ll give her the message.”
“How about I give her the message,” he said sweetly.
“Nope.”
He chuckled as he took the hot beer from my hand and swallowed it down before he gripped another can and handed it to me.
“What did you think?”
“How do you know we showed up?”
“I saw her the minute she walked in.”
Something about that statement hit me in the chest.
“Awwwww.” It didn’t come from me. It came from Adam. “I’ll make love to you.”
“Would you?” Ben asked in his best feminine voice. “Can we spoon after?”
“Can we do something besides chit-chat? I’m missing UFC,” Shaggy Rye said as he picked up his guitar and began hurdling through chords like the second coming of Jimmy Hendrix. I nearly spit out my beer. “Holy shit.”
Adam and Ben both looked at me with shit-eating grins. “Dumb but brilliant. Can’t tie his shoes but he can strip the strings.”
I watched as Rye plowed through what sounded like a warm-up.
I looked up to Reid as Ben grabbed a piece of hair from my ponytail and rubbed it between his fingers. “You know he’s an asshole, right?”
“Very aware and totally uninterested.”
“Good for you. He’s a pessimist in his prime. He wants to be a good guy, but watch out for that one. He’s a dark horse, baby, and they don’t play nice with women’s hearts.”
I rolled my eyes. “And you do?”
“I’m an opportunist,” he said with a panty-dropping smile. “But I can be tamed.”
“You sure of that?”
“She was wearing a blue corset, mini skirt, and dangling earrings. I promise you, I didn’t see anyone but her.”
“Got to do better than that to get her number.”
“I think she’s beautiful. And I know she’s tough. And I’m willing to put up with her shit to make her smile.”
I sighed and held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
Ben put it in my palm, and seconds after I programmed it in, Rye drastically changed his speed and left us all transfixed on him.
“He’s not the only prodigy,” Ben whispered. “Some bands are lucky enough to have two.
“You’re humble,” I said with an eye roll.
Ben shook his head. “I have a voice, so I can get away with being a shitty guitarist, but I’m not talking about me. He nodded toward Reid as Rye hit a crescendo that had us all screaming out to him in encouragement. Desperate to get my thoughts down, I looked around the room to see Reid had the only tools I needed.
“Hey, dark horse, can I get that pad and a pen?”
Clearly not a fan of his nickname, he tossed it in my direction. Ten minutes later, I was completely fixed on the insane talent in room six of The Garage. Reid sat next to me as the three of them serenaded the two of us in a melting pot of both original Dead Sergeant and cover songs. With only two guitars and Ben’s voice, I was bleeding the ink dry with unbiased opinion. I was charmed by Ben’s voice. It was pure temptation. He was the perfect front man of a beat-less band. But even with the incredible sound coming from the meshing of Rye’s bold guitar, Adam’s leading bass, and the guttural perfection of Ben’s voice, I knew that something was missing. And that somethi
ng missing was sitting next to me. I’d curled up on the split plastic couch and completely lost track of time. I looked over to Reid, who was watching the guys thoughtfully, taking mental notes. I was smiling when he glanced my way. He searched for the sincerity and found it. Slowly, he returned it, and for the first time, it finally reached his eyes. The room filled with a fresh kind of air as he beamed on that dingy couch in room six. That smile said it all. Music was where Reid Crowne’s happiness lay, and that smile told me he had already found his something to look forward to.
Chapter Ten
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! The low fuel alarm sounded through the speakers, and I jumped in my seat, my eyes refocusing on the road in front of me. I glanced at the odometer and saw I was three hundred miles from the city and hadn’t even noticed the sun had set. Anxious and clueless to where I was, I spotted a road sign that led me to a gas station a few miles later. Pumping gas in a daze, my heart pounded with the beat of distant memories while I stared at the digital tick of the gas prompt. I made quick work of relieving myself in the dingy bathroom and decided to entertain the ache in my stomach. Down the grocery aisle of the small convenience store, I picked up various crap off the shelves as the online radio filtered through the store.
“Of course,” I scoffed before I hung my head, filtering the lyrics that rocked my chest. “And the hits just keep coming. What is it with you, life?” I mumbled as I pulled my phone out of my backpack and scrolled through the messages, looking for only one.
I’m so fucking proud of you. Hurry up. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. See you in a few.
Despite my lack of equilibrium, I smiled. My chest ached as I started to text back. And then the guilt struck. The kind that lets you know you’re acting insane. With an arm full of junk, I readjusted my backpack and chose my words carefully.
I’m driving home. I missed my plane and decided to take a victory lap. I’ll be home tomorrow.
What the hell, babe? Couldn’t catch another? That’s a long drive.
I want to drive. I’ll be home tomorrow.
What’s going on?
Nothing.
Call me right fucking now.
Just let me have this time. Just let me drive.
The dots started working and then disappeared. He was pissed and I knew it, but I couldn’t talk to him. I didn’t want to feel the accusation in his voice. He knew me too well. More angry dots. Finally, he settled on simple, because that was his style unless we were face to face.
Careful. I love you.
He was hurt. I felt it across the miles. The whole thing was ridiculous. I could drop the car off at the nearest airport and be in his arms in a few hours. I still had time. I paced the gas station with Smart Pop, a sour pickle, beef jerky, and my essential bag of donuts. At times, I had no shame when it came to eating my feelings, and ignored the intrusive eyes of the clerk who made a production of bagging all my crap.
Back in the car, I shot off a quick text.
I love you too. Don’t worry.
I plugged in my phone and resumed directions before I flipped through my playlist and hit play.
Chapter Eleven
Never Say Never: The Fray
2005
“AHHHH HA!” I said as I leapt out of my sister’s closet where my Rolling Stones T-shirt hung. My sister looked over at me with guilty eyes.
“Neil likes them.”
“Half of the population of the globe likes them, get your own.” I threw on the shirt and grabbed the plate from the counter.
“So, you want to tell me why you’re bringing him breakfast?”
“Because mother taught us not to waste food?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Yesterday you hated him.”
“Today I’m feeding him. I’ll be right back.”
Her complex was huge, made up of at least a dozen buildings, and Reid’s door was way too far to deliver a hot plate with a healthy dose of freshly cooked eggs, diced potatoes, and peppers. Even in the early morning sun, I regretted wearing a black shirt
It took me three excruciating minutes of knocking to get him to open the door. When he did, my breath was stolen by the mussed-up version of Reid Crowne.
Fuck me.
It was the second time I’d seen him in his boxer briefs. It was the first time I wanted to rid him of them. Reid eyed the plate and then my ruby-red-lipped-tongue-out Stones T-shirt, which was ironic because at that moment that tongue represented my state of mind. I was drooling like a horny teenager.
No, Stella, no.
“Good morning,” I chimed as I ducked under his arm and made my way into his kitchen. “Today we are serving eggs and papas.”
“Stella, you’ve gotta go.”
“Rude much? I cooked for half an hour to provide you this ass-kissing breakfast.”
Reid crossed his arms. “It’s appreciated, really, but I’m not alone.”
I felt the sharp nudge in my chest and ignored it. I wasn’t interested in Reid Crowne, only what he could do for me.
Liar.
“Is she showering you off?” I asked while I listened for running water.
“Does it matter? Out.” He moved toward the door. I lapped him and stood in front of it.
“Okay, so, I need you to let me start hanging with you. I need you to show me around a little, introduce me to club owners when you do gigs, okay? I’ll return the favor with favors.”
Reid opened the door behind me, and I slammed it shut with my blue-jean-short-clad ass.
His nostrils flared. “This isn’t cute. I don’t want her to see you.”
“I’ll leave in fifteen seconds. Just say yes.”
“No,” he said as he gripped my arm and pulled me close so he could open the door. With our breath mixing and his fingers on my skin, I saw a flash in his eyes. I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Reid, who’s here?”
I peeked over to see the girl from the picture next to his mattress in the flesh. Except this girl had a fresh, jagged scar across her forehead.
“Hi, I’m Stella.” I waved awkwardly. “I was just bringing the man some breakfast. Paige’s orders.”
“I’m Lia, and you’re the little sister.”
I was beginning to hate the title. But what little sister didn’t?
“That’s me.”
“Reid, unhand her and get the hell out of the way.” He let me go, and I walked into the kitchen to get a better view. She was in one of his T-shirts, and I had no doubt she was missing underwear, but she was well covered.
Her long, blonde hair was slicked back and wet, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. But her big blue eyes were startling and her coloring was perfect. She was the quintessential blonde but had a sort of edge to her beauty. Beautiful in her simplicity with sharper features, bigger eyes. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered over her cheeks as she unearthed my offering and grabbed a fork from the drawer next to Reid’s stove.
In a split second, I didn’t want to know her, and I didn’t want her eating Reid’s eggs. I didn’t want her in his apartment. And I didn’t want to think about why.
“Yum,” she complimented. “Thank God, I’m starving.” She gave me a sincere smile and then motioned me forward as if I were on trial. “So, tell me about you.”
I shrugged. “Nothing to tell. I’m going to UT this fall for journalism. I just started at The Plate Bar with this guy.” Reid stood in the hall, completely clueless as to how to navigate two women gabbing in his kitchen. He made his exit to his bedroom and left us to it.
“The Plate Bar,” she chuckled. “Is that what it means?”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a fake smile. I felt my resolve to befriend Reid wilt as I watched her.
“Wow, what a bunch of dumbasses,” she mumbled around a mouthful. “So, what will you write about?”
“Music. That food is kind of a bribe to get Reid to take me around and introduce me to people.”
He appeared a second later, dressed in his us
ual jeans and T-shirt. His eyes found mine. “Going to take more than eggs for me to babysit.”
Lia rolled her eyes. “Stop being such an ass. What could it hurt to show her around a little? You know everyone in this city.”
“I’m kind of a pain in the ass,” I admitted with a grin in Reid’s direction. He returned my smile, and for the second time since I met him, it reached his eyes. “No arguing that.”
Lia looked between us with a smile that slowly faded. I saw her neck redden, and then her hesitance right before she took another hearty bite of Reid’s breakfast.
Why was she there? And why would he let her in? Didn’t she hurt him? My sister said she’d left him high and dry. It became apparent she had been in the accident with him. I could see it in his eyes as he looked at her, and feel the guilt when his eyes stopped at the pink scar on her forehead. In that moment, I felt like I was intruding. And in the next moment, I felt nauseated. My chest burned at the thought of him touching her, kissing her.
“I’m going to go.”
“You stay,” she said carefully as she pushed the plate away from her. “I’ll go. Nice meeting you, and thanks for breakfast.
“You’re welcome.”
Reid furrowed his brows as she gathered her clothes at the foot of the mattress and walked into his bedroom before slamming the door.
Reid’s eyes found mine and he let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry. I’ll just go. I didn’t mean to do, whatever . . . I did.”
Without a word, he followed her and shut the door behind him.
Paralyzed and uncomfortable by the drastic turn of events, I heard the start of a heated exchange quickly escalate.
“What am I doing here?” Lia yelled as I made quick work of covering the plate and putting it in his empty fridge. I didn’t hear Reid’s response and didn’t understand why she was upset. But a second later, she made it abundantly clear.