“Panic Room,” which was the first lead single off the Players’ album, was now live for purchase and download all over the world. It was one of two songs from the album that the party guests would get to hear tonight. I’d heard the entire album by now, loved every note, and couldn’t wait for the release. “Panic Room” was one of the songs Cary had written, about me; it was a fast, grinding, high-energy rock song with twisted, passionate lyrics—about feeling safe in a place with someone you loved while the world went to sheer madness outside.
Xander and Courteney found us and we stood with them in the midst of the crowd, just listening. Absorbing. I held Cary’s hand, and he closed his eyes as he listened to the song, and to the crowd’s reaction to it.
After “Panic Room,” the DJ put on another song from the album; the full album would release next week, but everyone at the party also got to hear “Fuck Me Two Times,” which had already proved a crowd favorite—the crowd being the band and everyone who’d been privy to hearing the songs so far.
It went over just as well at the party.
After both songs played, Trey and Brody stepped up on the small stage at the far end of the room, beneath the screen showing the slideshow of band images. Trey thanked everyone for coming, for supporting the fundraiser, for supporting the Players, and for working so hard to make this album what it was. Brody led us in a toast to the Players and the album, and to Cary Clarke.
I put my arm around Cary and kissed his cheek, as people applauded him.
Then Trey took the mic again. “We have an announcement that’s mildly exciting,” he said, obviously understating, and people cheered in anticipation. “If you already went onto the internet to check out the songs or downloaded them, you might’ve noticed it, but the Players have decided on a name for the album.” At that, some people started scrambling for their phones to try to figure it out before he said it. But then Trey said, “Would you like to make the announcement, Cary? The idea was yours.” He took the mic off the stand and handed it to Talia, who was standing beside the stage, like he knew Cary would never come up there.
Talia walked it back to us, the crowd parting for her. She stood in front of Cary, offering the microphone to him.
I held his hand tight, trying to encourage him without embarrassing him. I had no idea what this was about, but clearly, he did. I didn’t know the album had a title.
No one had said anything about it to me. Not him. Not Danica or Ash.
To my amazement, Cary actually took the microphone. “Uh, actually,” he said into the mic, clearing his throat, “Taylor came up with it.”
I met his eyes. What the fucknuts was he talking about?
Now everyone was looking over—at both of us.
Cary held out the microphone, and for a terrifying minute I thought he was handing it to me. But then someone reached past me and took it.
“Well, why don’t we just show the fucking thing,” Ash said into the mic. He’d slid his giant demon mask around to the back of his head to expose his face. He held out his hand, redirecting everyone’s attention to the screen above Trey and Brody, which had gone mysteriously blank.
The lights all over the room dimmed smoothly, and when we were all in the dark, an image came up, bright on the screen. It was the Players’ album cover… but one thing had changed.
Now, the title of the album was written in white script across the red paint/blood.
Lovely Madness
And I remembered.
It’s a lovely madness, isn’t it.
That was what I said to Cary, the day we had the argument about this party.
What is? he’d asked me. And I said, Falling in love with a rock star.
“A quick toast to the woman who inspired the title of our album and the theme for this party,” Summer said into the mic, and as the lights came up around us again, she was standing next to Ash. “Thank you, Taylor.”
Everyone applauded and Summer and Ash gave me hugs. Then more people gave me hugs.
I was in shock.
When the attention had died down and the music came back on, and everyone went back to drinking and dancing, I tugged Cary close. “I think I just had my fifteen seconds of fame.”
“And how did that go for you?” he said dryly.
“It was terrifying.”
He chuckled. “And maybe now she understands…”
“Oh, I understand. Maybe you should just retire and we’ll call it a day.”
He gave me a genuine smile and put his arm around me. “But you just gave me a speech about how young we are…”
Something bumped me and I turned—and just about screamed at the giant, demonic head in my face. Ash was standing with his back to me, and the mask on the back of his head had bumped me.
“Shit, Ash, that’s creepy.” He turned from the conversation he was having with Dylan and Amber and grinned at me. “That is very off-putting. You’ve got an ass where your dick should to be.”
He turned around to face me. “Better?”
Dylan, who now got the mask-and-ass side, scowled. “Aw, shit. That is creepy.” He shut his Iron Man visor and turned away.
“So,” Ash said, sipping his beer. “I’m just gonna go ahead and say this.” And since there was clearly no stopping him, despite what I feared he was about to say, I let him blurt, “We want you to join the band, Cary.”
Cary didn’t say anything, but he definitely tensed up. I was familiar with the signs by now. Even in this loud, dimly-lit room, I barely had to look at him to know. I could feel his reaction.
“Here’s the deal,” Ash said. “We’re playing our first show in the New Year, with Dirty. Just discussed it with Brody. We’ll be opening up for them at the Pandora Ballroom, just a small, local club show to roll out the new songs, start ironing out the kinks, prepping for tour, and pumping ourselves up. We want you to come join us onstage. If that goes well, we want you to seriously think about coming on tour with us.”
“On tour,” Cary said carefully, like he was actually thinking it over, when I was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Really?” He sounded surprised that they seriously wanted him to do that.
“There’s a reason we haven’t hired another guitarist,” Ash said simply.
“Because you haven’t found the right person,” Cary said firmly.
“Because we found the right person. And we’re waiting for him to realize he wants us as much as we want him.”
I looked at Cary’s face. And I realized how close he already was to needing to get the fuck out of here. It was that fast, how quickly it overwhelmed him. His body was stiff. His jaw was tight. I could practically see the anxiety creeping up, slithering up through his veins like black tendrils of smoke to snuff out everything else.
“Um, hey,” I said. “Didn’t we need to go check that thing?”
When he didn’t respond, I gave his hand a sharp squeeze.
“Cary? That thing?” His eyes flicked to mine and I nodded my head toward the exit.
“Yeah,” he said stiffly. “Let’s go.”
He was already turning away when I said to Ash, “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”
Ash’s eyebrows twisted together as he realized what was happening. “Shit. Taylor. I didn’t mean to—”
I didn’t hear the rest. Cary was tugging me through the crowd. He slid his mask down over his face. I made sure to overtake him, take the lead, and burrow him out of there before anyone else tried to talk to him.
We found Liam just inside the door and he fell in step, escorting us out into the hall.
“Is there a back exit?” I asked him, looking around.
Liam held out his arm, showing me the way as I pulled Cary along—guiding us through the bodies, the lineup of security guys, and down the hall, away from the stairs and the lobby. We pushed through a door into a back stairwell, headed down a flight of stairs and through another door, into a quiet corner of a hallway.
No one was around.
There was
a little nook with two armchairs and a table, and I headed for it. We’d just reached it when Cary started shaking.
I raised my hand, gesturing for Liam to fall back. To give us a minute. To give Cary some privacy if he was about to have a panic attack.
“Do you want to sit down?” I asked him. He was hunched over, his hand in his face. “Cary?” I bent over to try to see his face. I slid my arm around his back, holding him close. “Are you okay…?”
He snorted into his hand.
Then he kind of wheezed and coughed, and I slid off his mask. I saw his eyes.
“What the fuck, Cary Clarke. Are you laughing?”
He kind of wheezed into his hand again. “I… can’t…” he choked out.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I started to laugh. “Why are you laughing?”
He wheezed again. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re laughing.”
Then he finally caught his breath and burst out laughing even harder.
I smacked him on the butt with his mask.
Then I fell into one of the armchairs with a shudder and dropped his mask on the table. He was still standing there, his hands on his thighs for support, peering up at me. His face was flushed and he was grinning.
“Christ. I feel like I almost had a panic attack.” I blew out a breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make light of it.”
He flopped into the chair across from me and tapped my boot with his shoe to make me meet his eyes. They were kinda sparkling. He looked like he’d just run a marathon or something. He blew out a breath, too.
“Ah, shit,” he said with a sigh.
“You’re gonna kill me one day, Cary Clarke. I thought you were freaking out.”
“I was. I don’t know what happened.”
We just sat there, silent for a moment, catching our breath.
“I just started laughing,” he said. “That was maybe the most fucked-up panic response I’ve ever had.”
“It was an explosion of emotion. But at least it was a good one.”
“Yeah.”
“Feels good to laugh, huh?”
“It felt good to be at that party with you,” he said seriously.
“Okay, if you’re trying to make me swoon, at least take me somewhere we can get naked first.”
He smirked and looked for Liam, who was just visible a little way up the hall, where he probably couldn’t hear us. Much.
Cary leaned forward on his knees and studied me. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll live. You?”
“Yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair. “That was fucking embarrassing. But yeah, I’ll live.”
“I dunno. I kinda liked it. If we have to make a dramatic exit every party we go to, or slip out of their like ninjas, so what? I’m sure plenty of famous people do that at parties anyway.”
“True.”
He was quiet for a moment. I smiled at him.
I wasn’t sure why we weren’t going home. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back into the party or what, so I just waited.
“I know I need someone in my life who can support me when I’m not strong,” he said.
“Good. Because you do.”
“Someone who can also be straight with me, tell me the things I don’t want to hear and challenge me when I need to be challenged. But not pressure me to the point that I fall apart. I know it’s a fucking tall order, Taylor.”
“But don’t we all need those things?”
“Maybe.” He looked away for a moment, then met my eyes again. “Gabe did all that for me. All those years. Ever since I was nine, I had that person in my life, and I didn’t even know how hard it would be to not have that person anymore. And now… you’re that person.”
“I am?”
“Yeah, dummy.”
I snorted with laughter, so surprised by that, and he smiled as I cracked up.
When I’d gotten a hold of myself again, he said, “I have no idea how you do it, but you give me everything I need in a relationship. I get blind-paralyzed when I think of losing you.”
My smile softened. “You’re not losing me, Cary.”
“You don’t know that. We don’t know what the future holds. But that’s life. We can’t have absolute control over that part. And that is the hardest part for me to accept. I have to make peace with it, Taylor, or I’ll never be able to function like a normal person. I’ll never be able to give you what you deserve. Which is a partner in life. I want to be that for you.”
“Then prove it,” I said simply.
“I’m trying to. I hope you’ll give me the chance.”
“I will give you the chance. I’ll give you the chance to ask me to come work with you again. I’ll give you the chance to ask me to move in with you, too.”
He did that smiling-with-his-eyes thing, and opened his mouth, but I kept talking.
“I’ll even give you the chance to propose to me, one day. If I don’t beat you to it first.” I reached out to take his hand, and his smile faded. Not because he wasn’t happy, but because he was taking this seriously. “You can spend the rest of your life proving it to me.”
“Okay… I don’t know what to say,” he said. I wondered if he thought I was expecting him to get down on one knee, right the fuck now.
“It’s simple, Cary. Just say you’re willing. I’m already in. Whatever happens, I’m yours. And no matter how much time we have together, we’ll be a team.”
His gorgeous, hazel eyes actually misted over at that, and I melted.
“Come on,” I pressed. “Whadya say?”
He took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to bring you along on this ride if you aren’t totally sure, because that’s a terrible thing to do to someone. Bring them into a relationship for a couple years that just completely drains them, and basically steals a couple years of their life. And then what? You break up and they wish they never met you and fell into this dark hole you live in.”
“What do you mean, a couple of years? I don’t want a couple of years. I want to be in this with you, and I’m sticking around until the end. And by that I mean the end.”
He took that in, nodding a little, like he was trying to digest it. “I guess that’s good, then. Because this thing, it’s gonna take a while to work through. It’s probably gonna take the rest of my life, honestly.”
“Then I’ll be there with you, working through it with you. Or just hanging by and cheering you on, if that’s what you need.”
He was still shaking his head. “I don’t understand you.”
“Still?”
“Your willingness to put up with me is as frustrating as the holes in your socks.”
“I’m not wearing socks right now,” I said, and he glanced at my sexy boots.
When his eyes met mine again, I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” I said. “We’ll make babies. And we’ll travel when you’re ready, and we’ll see the world. And you’ll go out onstage again, if you want to, when you’re ready.”
“Taylor… it’s not that I don’t want those things. But I’m afraid of leaning on you too much. Needing you too much. Taking too much.”
I sighed. “Then you need to go onstage, Cary. Because that’s something I can’t do for you. You have to walk out there yourself.” I ran my thumb over the back of his hand, choosing my words carefully and saying it as gently but honestly as I could. “Gabe isn’t coming back to help you. Only you can be Cary Clarke on a stage, doing what you do and giving people what you give them when you make music. But I’m here for you. Your sister is here for you. And Xander will be out there with you.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, like he was actually starting to believe it.
“The thing I think you just haven’t figured out yet is that we’ll always have your back, Cary Clarke.”
“I’m getting that,” he said.
I sat back, studying him in his black dress shirt and pants, all sleek and mysterious. I�
��d never seen him in anything but jeans and a T-shirt, sweats. He looked hot in those, too, but right now, he looked like a man ready to take on the world.
“Lovely Madness, huh?” I said.
“Yup.”
“Do I get a credit on the album?”
“You get that and whatever else you want,” he said seriously.
“Hmm. I’m partial to back rubs, cunnilingus, and happily-ever-afters, so.” I got to my feet, picked up his mask and held it out to him. “Why don’t you take me home and we’ll get started on that?”
He got to his feet and took the mask from my hand.
I turned to start toward Liam. “And by the way,” I said over my shoulder, as I slipped my own mask back on, “you can leave your mask on first.” I gave him the dirtiest look I possibly could through a cat mask, and twitched my ass to shake my tail.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cary
Gimme Shelter
February
It was absolutely pissing cold rain as we ran for the backstage entrance, where a door was propped open for us. I held an umbrella over us as Taylor snuggled under my arm. Security was thick, the alley blocked off at both ends to traffic and pedestrians, and I could hear the throb of music emanating through concrete and steel as the opening band got the Pandora Ballroom rocking for us.
Somehow, we’d managed to get Johnny O’s band, Breakneck, to open the show, warming up the home crowd before the Players took the stage—with me, joining them on guitar.
We’d be followed by Dirty.
As we ducked in through the door—me, Taylor and Liam—we were greeted by Talia and Brody. Talia had someone take our umbrella and coats. Then there was a lineup of musicians and VIPs waiting to shake my hand as I made my way through the halls toward the stage. They all hugged me and welcomed me back, and as we moved toward the noise, the beat of the music, I felt like I was returning to the heart of the scene that I helped shape into what it was right at this moment.
Dean was already there, beer in hand, wearing a guest pass.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” I said, tapping his pass.
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 47