My head felt like a vise had a firm grip on my temples while someone kept cranking the handle. The melodic chimes I’d set on my phone to alert me to wake up meant the time spent harping on the night before was over. I’d been up for hours staring off into space. Bits and pieces of our evening slowly fought their way through the cobwebs until they hit the forefront of my mind. Remembering enough to remind me I had lost control of the situation caused concern, but it was the part of the night that wouldn’t come into focus that I was most concerned with.
Mistake number one—putting myself into a compromising situation with Cannon.
Mistake number two—having too much to drink while with Cannon.
When I’d tapped on his door last night to see if he wanted to get a drink, I really hadn’t thought it through. Getting no response, I guessed he’d be at the bar. After all the fun we’d had at the water park, things had seemed off once we’d gotten back to the hotel.
My intention was to see if there was something I’d said or done that had upset him. He’d seemed fine, though. I wasn’t sure of how much he’d had to drink before I arrived, but he’d matched my total of three by the time we stumbled out of the bar a few hours later, and any tension he held was gone.
I remembered hanging on to him, a closeness that I could still feel… and another kiss?
Would I have done that?
I wasn’t sure if it was reality or something my drunken stupor had birthed. Flashes of Cannon holding my face while he alternated between soft whisper-kisses and hard all-consuming ones felt too real to be a dream. What was I supposed to do, ask him?
I glanced at the doors that separated our rooms, both of which were cracked open enough to create the illusion we shared a space. I remembered him mentioning that if I needed him he’d be right next door. Seeing a shadow moving around forced a panicked run into the bathroom. Once I closed the door, I felt safer… and not from Cannon. It was my own stupidity I ran from because once again I’d screwed up.
As I always did when I’d done something stupid, I thought of Jen. She wouldn’t have been lusting over her client less than a month after meeting him, kissing him, getting drunk with him. Obviously they wouldn’t be hanging out with her to begin with, mainly because she had very forced relationships with her clients. They really didn’t like her all that much.
I didn’t want that. I needed to find a balance between being the shark she was in the music industry and still maintaining the real me. I was flying by the seat of my pants, with the only experience under my belt tainted because of love.
Fifteen minutes later, a lukewarm shower had me feeling a touch more human and a ton more mixed up. But I couldn’t hide forever. Cautiously, I came out of the bathroom dressed and presentable, finally ready to knock on the connecting door.
He appeared instantly, his wavy hair still damp from a shower, smelling as clean as a crisp spring day. “Hey, Red, how do you feel?” Embarrassment flushed my cheeks while concern shaded the edges of his expression.
“Except for my head pounding, not terrible.”
“You should probably get some caffeine and carbs in you. We have time before the flight. Do you want to check out early and grab something to eat?”
“Sure, I’m all ready.” A humorless smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Just as he turned away, I laid a hand on his arm. “Cannon, I’m sorry about last night.”
“What for?” The puzzled frown that flashed over his face confused me.
Did he want a list? Mixed signals and crossing professional lines were obvious faux pas. Yet he needed me to spell it out for him? The whole thing was beyond embarrassing, so I kept it to the main issue and said, “It was unprofessional and won’t happen again.”
His cognac eyes flittered over my face before they tethered to mine. “You really need to lighten up, Red,” he said with a shake of his head before retreating deeper into his room.
No one had ever said that to me, and truth be told I usually accused others of needing to lighten up. In that moment, I felt lost and even more disconnected than ever before. I had fled to California for a new start. I had left everything I knew because somewhere along the line I no longer recognized the person I’d become. And there I was, moving further away from my true self.
A few minutes later, we shuffled through the lobby silent and lost in our own thoughts.
Only after we’d ordered breakfast and received two steaming mugs of coffee did he finally say something. “Look, Red… there’s no need to pretend with me.”
“Pretend what?”
His lips twisted into a cynical smile. “To be something you’re not.”
He may as well have punched me in the gut. “I’m not pretending to be something I’m not,” I replied with obvious annoyance.
“Come on, Red. You’re not doing such a great job at convincing me the real Lori isn’t one who occasionally tosses back a few too many.” He rolled his eyes while digging into his pocket. A glance at his cell brought a resigned sigh. “Sorry, I should take this.”
“Go ahead,” I said, welcoming the reprieve from his judgmental theories.
“Hey, Chris.” Cannon watched me as he listened to whoever this Chris person was. “Yeah, man, sorry about that… no, in Texas now… yep, I got signed… I know. I was going to tell you but… Yeah, let’s talk when I get back… Thanks, man.” Silence filled the air, and the way he pulled in short breaths while his jaw tightened and held meant he wasn’t happy with whatever Chris had to say. “We’re good,” Cannon finally said without emotion. “Yeah, that sounds great… let me know when you’re heading my way… bye.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.” The word sounded hollow when paired with his scowl. “That was my best friend,” he went on to explain. “Since we were kids.” Not wanting to pry, I offered a simple nod. But Cannon apparently wanted to talk about it as he added, “He’s concerned we haven’t talked since my trip home when he confessed that he’s dating Holly.”
“Oh.” An unexpected pang of sadness for what he must have been feeling hit me square in the chest. I wasn’t sure what I could say, or what I wanted to. Deciding on the truth, I whispered, “I’m sorry, Cannon.”
“Nah, it’s all good. Chris fits the bill, conforms perfectly to her relationship criteria. I refuse to be something I’m not.” Awkwardness burdened our conversation, and then he dragged a hand through his hair and threw me a casual smirk. “Which brings me back to the point of what I was saying. Go easy on yourself. I’m not your judge and jury, Lori. There will be plenty of times I fuck up; I can guarantee you that.”
When he reached over and skimmed his fingertips over mine, I felt it everywhere. “Anyway… let’s eat.” His smile and the electrical zap of his fingers caused a nervous sensation to settle low in my belly. “I’m starving.”
The morning sun that filtered through the cylindrical window caressed the side of his face. We sat opposite each other under the jet’s whirring air-conditioning while the crew ran the last-minute flight checks. His assured casualness was ever present, from the clothes on his perfect body to the aura that emanated off him. It was like he was the female version of me… only the younger me of a few years ago.
Every so often, he’d wave a hand or point a finger in accordance with the story he told, making him equal parts sexy and adorable. Any awkwardness from the night before had disappeared once he’d set me straight at breakfast. I was glad he had. When I wasn’t caught up in my own head, and I allowed myself to relax, I truly enjoyed his company. He was so many things one wouldn’t attribute with moody musicians… endearing being one of them and down to earth another.
Regardless, I still needed to keep him at arm’s length. Cannon believed he could say anything on his mind, and more times than not it had to do with bringing me down a notch or two.
“So then the nozzle got stuck, and beer started gushing everywhere. Everyone at the party starts yelling at him at once. Five more minutes and that crowd would have
turned into a very angry mob. He stands there like a deer caught in headlights, and then the jackass sticks it in his mouth to collect the flow.” Tears leaked from my eyes over laughing so hard. Cannon had to stop and start the same story three times from cracking up himself.
“I swear more than half the keg ended up in his gut.”
“Why didn’t he just pull out the line?” I asked, my voice pitched because of the laughter.
“I guess he panicked! Have you ever seen anyone literally turn green? It was so cool.” Hearing Cannon’s deep, sexy chuckles set me off again.
I clutched my belly as he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes before continuing. “Yeah. You can guess what happened next. It was like an exorcism.”
“Oh my God, stop,” I gasped, running my fingers under my eyes in case my makeup didn’t hold up. It took a few minutes for me to compose myself while Cannon regarded me with a warm smile. “How long have you and Liam been friends?”
“A year, but it feels much longer.” I didn’t buy the annoyed tone in his voice. After having met him just once, I could tell they had a great bond despite their ribbing.
“How does he feel about your upcoming fame?”
“Like he’s the one who discovered me. I apologize in advance for his behavior.” Cannon’s eyes focused on something beyond my shoulder, and the smile fell off his face.
“What’s wrong?” Not waiting for a response, I twisted just as Oliver ambled toward us with a shit-eating grin. “Oliver. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, beautiful… care if I bum a ride?” he asked before plopping in the leather captain’s chair beside me. Cannon’s entire demeanor flipped, and the death stare he had on Oliver spoke volumes.
“Um… what brings you to Texas?”
“I came to have dinner with Louis last night, and he said you two were heading back this morning.” Oliver glanced at Cannon like he’d only just noticed him. “How ya doin,’ kid?”
If Cannon could spit nails, they’d be drilling bloody holes into Oliver’s face. “I’m great, sir.”
“Glad to hear it. My friend said you’re officially part of LRV. Congrats,” Oliver said before taking my hand in his and lifting it to place a kiss on my knuckles.
“Thank you,” Cannon said dishonestly as he caught my eyes. In the few seconds our gazes fused, an entire inappropriate conversation passed between us—a confirmation that our connection liked to flirt with disaster.
When Cannon turned to glare out the window, I slipped my hand out of Oliver’s hold. Unfazed, Oliver leaned closer and said, “So what are your plans later tonight?”
“Oh, I have so much to catch up on. We weren’t supposed to stay yesterday.”
“Nonsense, you have to eat, right?” And as Oliver rambled on about some restaurant we just had to eat at, Cannon pulled cordless earbuds from his pocket, inserted them while tapping on his phone, and tuned both me and Oliver out for the rest of the ride back to LA.
Chapter 17
Cannon
The day after we arrived back in LA, Lori called and apologized to me for Oliver’s behavior. It wasn’t her job to do so, and I told her as much.
Obviously Mr. Moneybags had a hard-on for me. In the two times we’d met, he’d sized me up and thrown me into a prejudged box. I guess I had to admit the same, but my assumption he was a pretentious asshole was spot-on. But me… I was nothing like the person he believed I was.
During that flight, I wanted so badly to connect my fist with his tanned, smooth-shaven jaw. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he had intentionally stalked her whereabouts before sabotaging our flight back from Dallas. Nor did I doubt he wanted her in a way that sent my blood simmering with jealousy.
During that awkward phone conversation, Lori mentioned my one-word answers to his condescending comments had probably spurred him on. But in the next breath, she then commended me for handling him fairly well given the circumstances. The motherfucker was lucky I hadn’t pushed his head through the tiny window beside me.
Just before she ended the call, all I asked was, “Why?”
There wasn’t a need to even elaborate on the one word or explain what I meant. The excuses she offered to defend him lacked bulk.
We’re just friends, Cannon. I have no romantic feelings for him. I do enjoy his company.
I believed her. I also saw right through her motive. Oliver was nothing more than a vellum-thin shield that she tried to hide behind.
A ruse.
A scapegoat.
I wasn’t even sure she had consciously labeled him as such. Maybe it was just a way to protect herself from me.
Actually, it was absolutely a way to protect herself from me.
One thing I wouldn’t do was get into a pissing match with a man who measured worth materialistically. But… there was no chance in hell I’d step aside without pushing the envelope… testing the waters… forcing my hand. A twisted part of me believed I had rights to claim Lori as mine. Of course I didn’t. Sharing one kiss, or even a thousand moments of molten desire, meant nothing in the scheme of things.
That conversation had happened two weeks ago and not another word had been uttered between us regarding that rich, pompous prick. Just because I hadn’t discussed it further with Lori didn’t mean he wasn’t disrupting my brain waves. I forced myself not to ask if they’d had dinner that night… if he’d laid a hand on her yet… if she thought about him as much as I thought about her.
I shouldn’t give a crap… except I did. With each day that went by, my “situation” worsened as the yearning I felt toward my agent fired on all cylinders. I’d known the first night we’d met that the qualities she possessed would be a problem for me. And time, or getting to know her better, or even settling into our respective roles had done little to lessen the fact I wanted her.
I wasn’t afraid to admit to myself that feelings for Lori now festered like a mold left untreated. Fuck, I’d even admit it to her if I thought it would do any good. It wouldn’t. Even if she felt the same, she was so deep in her own head that a jackhammer wouldn’t have any luck cracking through her logic. If she thought about me in the same way I thought about her, she’d never admit it. In fact, I’d bet my upcoming fortune that she’d go through great measures to deny it.
I knew otherwise.
Her body told me otherwise.
As did her eyes or the way her lips would part whenever time suspended when we stared at each other. I couldn’t make that shit up. There was something going on between us.
Did I look for it? No. With all that was about to happen in my life, the last thing I needed was to get involved with a complicated woman… and my agent was very complicated.
But when thoughts of her monopolized half my mind, while my career monopolized the other half, the underlying thread of truth as to why she got to me couldn’t be ignored.
Besides obsessing over the sexy redhead day and night, a personal metamorphosis had existentially transformed me over the last two weeks. Recording in the studio each day had me feeling like a true artist for the first time. Weird how all those performances for live crowds had never given me the validation I obviously needed. Having the talented musicians behind me by supplying keyboards, bass, and drums to support my music and make it better seemed surreal.
No one could have prepared me for the swell of accomplishment that working long days at the studio created. Add in the technicians, whose sole purpose was to bring my art to the masses, and it all humbled me in an unexpected way. They all believed in me, and Lori led the long parade of them.
So even though our personal relationship lacked, our professional one soared. Lori worked her ass off booking interviews and approving marketing plans. And still she found the time to be there for me every day, watching from the other side of the glass wall that separated the control booth from where I recorded, with pride glowing like a lighthouse’s beacon on a foggy night.
I’d come to require her constructive criticism or praise like I require
d air, food, and water. “That was perfect, Cannon,” her sexy voice would filter through my headphones, bringing with it a surge of want that pinched in my chest before it settled low in my groin.
Day after day for two weeks I’d bounce through the doors of LRV Studios intending to make that day better than the one before it. By pushing myself vocally and singing lyrics that took on a whole new meaning in my life, I was on my way to creating an emotional masterpiece in the form of a music album.
I knew it was that good… and I knew it all had to do with the stubborn pigheaded redhead who had unknowingly become my muse.
Even when she wasn’t there, I felt her fuel my performance.
“Cut, Cannon. That’s a wrap for today,” Billy said over the microphone. “We’ll edit all three songs you’ve recorded so far while you’re gone. That way we can dive back into recording next week.”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Billy.”
“You bet,” he said with an avuncular smile. I had developed a deep respect for my recording engineer, Billy, and his team. Normally albums were recorded in their entirety before editing began. With years of expertise under his belt, Billy felt it was better to edit as we went along. My trip to New York with Lori tomorrow provided the perfect window for him and his team to do just that. “Have a great trip, kid,” he added before leaving the control room.
Just as I snapped my guitar case closed, Lori walked in, surprising me. “Hey, you’re all done?” It was the first day since I began recording that she wasn’t there. Because we were flying out tonight, she had taken the time to get caught up on paperwork and pack. The spontaneous grin that spread meant I missed her. She matched it with one of her own while saying, “I saw Billy on the way in. He said today was golden. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Yeah, about that. I decided to record ‘Better’ today.” The tiny flair in her eyes said she remembered the song I had played in Pasadena the night she’d hid in the shadows.
Liner Notes Page 12