“The obvious way?” Her body still scrunched up against the window, her gaze focused on the slip of paper Brek held with the bottle of Coors.
Velma couldn’t pull her gaze from Brek’s fingers…the note…the bottle. Would this be her life? Always unable to get ahold of him? Even his family couldn’t reach him. And how much of a chance would she ever have with the band groupies surrounding him all the time?
“You know it doesn’t mean anything if he keeps the number. Nothing. Means nothing,” Jase said with absolutely no conviction.
Brek laughed again and dropped both the bottle and the note on a random table as he followed the guy, skirting behind the back of a booth.
Jase fist-pumped and moved backward as the crowd shifted. “Told you. Never doubted him.”
Velma turned, poking Jase in the chest. “What do you mean? The obvious way?”
“You know, like…she’s got all the fake…you know, I think I’m going to shut up now.” Jase raised his hands in surrender.
Velma shuffled toward the end of the line and slouched against the big blue mailbox. They had already lost their place, and the line had grown another twenty people deep. “There’s no way we’re going to get to him.”
“C’mon, think positive. We could always climb on the roof and break into the club.” Jase stared at the top of the building. “I could hop on that Dumpster, climb up and grab the edge of the window, slide to the side and see if any of them are open. It’ll work.”
“And you could break your neck in the process, which means Brek will lose his best friend and Babushka will hate me. Do you have any money?” She reached for her wallet. She only had a twenty. Darn.
He raised his eyebrows at her. “Uh…yeah. Why?”
“Like, cash? We could slip a hundred dollars to the bouncer and see if that helps our case.” She pulled a handful of change from the depths of her bag. No dollars. Crud.
He shook his head. “Already tried that.”
“When?”
“About the time you were going off on how much you dislike the band. Didn’t work. Do you always carry that many pennies with you?”
“No.” Velma dropped the money back into her purse as a charge went through the air. She glanced back to the windows. The guys from Dimefront took the stage and the crowd outside screamed in response. Velma craned her neck but couldn’t see Brek anymore.
Muscles in her chest tightened. The throng surrounding them shoved each other to get a better view of the band. People pushed all around them…well, her… Where the heck had Jase gone? She glanced back and forth, searching for him.
More bodies pressed her farther from the building, toward the street. She waved her hands over her head and shouted, “Jase?”
She needed to get out of here. The vibe had gone from annoyed-but-waiting to get-the-heck-out-of-my-way dangerous. Holding her purse tight to her side, she headed to cross the street just as a police cruiser bleated a siren. She’d made it to the curb when a rowdy group heaved by her.
Tottering on her heels, she fell hard against one of the cars parked along the street. Crud. That hurt. She rubbed at her hip.
“Velvet?”
Thank goodness.
She closed her eyes, squashed away the sour ache in her chest, and glanced up to Wayne. She flashed back to when they were seven, and she had biffed it on her bike. He’d come to her rescue then, as well.
His arm holding her waist, he helped her across the street to a concrete flower planter in front of an all-night convenience store.
“You okay?” He dusted some nonexistent dirt from her shoulders, holding her a little too close and lingering a teensy bit too long.
She slumped to the edge of the planter, taking care not to crush the azaleas. “I’m fine. I’m just…I’m trying to get to my boyfriend to get him a message.”
“Ah.” He frowned, stepping in front of her. Wayne was generally soft spoken, but he had to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd. His radio crackled on his shoulder. He said something in return.
“You should probably get back to work.” She nodded to another group of people headed up the sidewalk toward the club.
“Backup just got here. I’ll see you to your car first.” He held his palm out to her.
She shook her head and waved at the building. “I have to get in there. Brek’s sister…she’s having her baby and he’s going to be an uncle and he’s not answering his phone.”
“Velma.” Jase jogged to her, out of breath. “Holy shit, it’s a mosh pit.”
“She fell,” Wayne said, rubbing her shoulder.
Fine, so she had taken a small tumble. It hardly counted.
“I saw. That car totally came out of nowhere. Way to nail the landing, though.” Jase raised his eyebrows at Wayne’s hand resting on her shoulder. “Who are you?”
“Wayne. Friend of Velvet’s,” he replied. Velma absolutely noticed that he didn’t offer his hand to Jase. Nope. It stayed right on her shoulder. She subtly shifted to try to knock it free.
Didn’t work.
“We grew up together.” Velma checked her phone. Still nothing.
She shook off Wayne’s hand, still on her shoulder. This time he let it fall.
The radio on Wayne’s shoulder crackled to life.
Velma couldn’t make out what they said on the other end. “What’s happening?”
“Crowd’s too big. Fire marshal’s clearing the sidewalk.” Gosh, why did Wayne’s eyes always have to be so freaking kind?
“There’s no way in, Jase. How are we going to get in ther—”
Jase put a finger up to her lips. “No more blah-blah. Go home and put some ice on your ass. Let me do this my way.”
Gah. His way involved climbing on a Dumpster. With a side of breaking and entering.
She batted his fingertip away. Enough already with all the craziness of this night.
“Fine.” Velma stood, but crud her hip really hurt. She winced and sat back down. Ice sounded really good right about now.
Jase raised his I-told-you-so eyebrows.
“If you want to try to catch Brek, that’s great. I’ll call his mom with an update and head…home.” She looked to Wayne. “I can walk myself to my car.”
“Nope.” Wayne glanced to the unruly crowd. “I’ll see you get out of here in one piece.” He held his hand to her once more. This time, reluctantly, she took it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The deep bass of Dimefront’s signature chorus pulsated through the building as the band rocked the stage. Brek felt those chords down to his marrow, but he pulled the contract closer. Tonight, he had business.
Hans shouted across the small table, but hearing was impossible. Even this far away from the speakers, the music filled every molecule of air.
Brek stilled his tapping foot. He used to crave the sensation—the music, the lights, the endless string of women and booze.
Tonight, he only craved Velma.
Hans whisked the pen along on the dotted line. Brek let out a breath of relief. He folded the papers and smacked them against his hand, the tempting pull of the exit a siren’s song. He needed to get to Velma. Explain to her everything that had happened. Or…almost everything.
“Looking forward to the future.” Hans stuck out his hand.
Brek shook it. “Me, too.”
Brek and Hans had not only come to an agreement with the band that they’d stay together through the scheduled tour, but Hans would act as full manager when Brek needed to be home. If everything went as they’d discussed, Brek wouldn’t have to travel as much in the future, and he could focus his attention on all that he now had in Denver.
The whole thing was hush-hush for now until a firm agreement could be hashed out. But soon he’d be able to tell Velma.
Then he’d find a comfortable bar he could buy and renovate, and he would use his connections to bring the best bands to Denver.
“Sorry about your phone.” Hans winced.
Brek shifted wh
ere he stood. “Shit happens.”
Shit had happened. Shortly after he’d arrived, Brek had excused himself to call Velma and let her know his plans had to change. As it generally happened, one woman had leeched onto him. She had shamelessly flirted. He’d ignored her. Then she’d snatched his phone and with a coy, “Oops,” dropped it in a pitcher of Budweiser. Pouting her Botox-filled lips, she said something about needing his full attention. He couldn’t hear her exact words due to the blood rushing through his ears at the time.
Needless to say, the phone was fried, and he couldn’t reach Velma. He’d had Botox Barbie removed from the club. That went about as well as you’d expect. She spit and hissed the whole way to the exit. The bouncer had the fingernail scratches to prove it.
Then the next groupie took her place at Brek’s side. And when he shook her off, another, and another.
At one point in his life—hell, a few months ago—he’d loved that part of the business. Now? He had Velma. She may not have been ready to declare her feelings for him, but they were there. He hoped like fuck they were there. They had to be there.
“Brek!” a guy called over the music.
He turned to the direction of his name, scanning the packed room.
Jase shoved through a mass of VIPs and Brek’s chest went tight. What the heck was Jase doing there?
Brek hurried toward Jase, leaning to yell in his ear. “How fucked am I?”
No doubt Velma had handled the dinner perfectly, but he felt like shit for standing her up. Hopefully, all he’d worked for that night would make amends for his screwup.
“Aspen’s in labor,” Jase hollered back.
Brek’s pulse skipped and a headache formed at his temple. “How long?”
“No idea. Velma tried to get in here to tell you, but she got hurt when the crowd went crazy outside. Don’t worry, the car had nothing on her.”
“Car? What? Is she okay?” Brek’s breath hitched.
“Should be home by now. I left her with a cop who was way too handsy for my liking. She said they know each other, and he promised to help Velma to her car.” Jase started toward the nearest exit.
Sweat formed along Brek’s neck, and not from the heat of hundreds of bodies shaking their asses on the nearby dance floor. God, Velma had to be all right. “I’ve gotta get to her.”
Jase caught his shoulder before he could leave. “Yeah. You should know she saw that chick give you her number. Velma wasn’t thrilled. But A-plus for ditching it fast.”
“Fuck.” Brek muscled his way through the crowd.
Which of the multitude of chicks had Velma seen?
He threw open the thick black exit door. Cool Colorado air provided a soothing balm against the bullshit of the night. The group outside parted only slightly. Brek and Jase had to elbow their way through the crowd. A drunk chick with over-teased hair bumped into Brek and caught his arm. She flashed a fake grin. “What’s the hurry?”
He shook her off.
Shit. There were literally people everywhere. This is insane.
Jase headed toward the street. “The fuck happened tonight?”
Brek matched his stride. “Phone died.”
“You should’ve seen Velma at dinner. She kept looking at the door and checked her cell about a bazillion times.”
“Long story,” Brek muttered.
Jase smacked his shoulder. “Hope it’s a good one.”
“How’d you get in the club, anyway?” Brek asked as they moved around the edge of the crowd.
“There are certain things no one needs to know.” Jase smirked as they moved through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Call your mom, check on Aspen.”
Brek took the phone Jase handed him and dialed.
“Ma, how’s Aspen?” He stopped walking and held a hand up against his other ear so he could hear.
“Things slowed way down. She’s resting. They’re not thinking anything’s going to happen until morning.” Ma sounded wiped.
“You need anything? I can come wait with you.” Brek dropped his head.
“Go on home. I’ll call you when things change.”
“I want to be there for you. When you need me.” Soon he’d be an uncle. He blinked against the emotion in his throat.
“There’s nothing anyone can do right now. Get some rest tonight. Love you, Brek.”
“Back at you.” He swiped at the screen to end the call.
“Everything okay?” Jase asked.
“Yeah. Gonna be awhile.” Brek started dialing Velma’s number.
“Are you Brek?”
Brek glanced up as a cop strutted over to them. Full uniform. Full jackass. Brek trusted him about as far as he trusted gas station sushi.
“Yeah?” Brek asked, only stopping because the guy blocked them from continuing down the sidewalk.
“You’re the guy with Velma?” the cop guy asked.
“Look, man. Now’s not a good time.” Brek held up a palm and tried to move forward.
The idiot stepped closer, right into Brek’s space.
“Wayne.” He stretched his hand to shake Brek’s.
“Brek.” Brek shook it.
Wayne had balls. Brek gave him that. He also had a uniform and a gun, so Brek elected to behave.
“She’s home.” Wayne glanced from Brek to Jase and back. “She deserves better than to be left on the curb like that.”
“Trust me, Officer. You do not want to do this tonight.” Jase stepped into position at Brek’s right.
Wayne held up his hands in mock resignation. “Not doing anything. Just making sure she’s being taken care of.”
Wayne crossed his arms but clearly made sure his badge stayed visible. Yeah. Brek got the message.
“You’re gonna break her heart. And when you do, I’ll be there to put it back together.”
Jase moved in closer and jerked his chin toward Fuckwit. “She’s only warming one bed tonight, and it’s not this jackass’s.”
Wayne smirked like a fuckin’ candy-ass. “For tonight. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.”
Brek leaned through the few inches Wayne had left between them. “Leave her. The fuck. Alone.”
“Or what?” Wayne narrowed his eyelids, sizing him up.
“Not stupid enough to threaten a cop, asshole. You sure you want to play this game? Because you’ll lose.” Brek’s fingertips itched to strangle the son of a bitch.
Jase grabbed Brek’s arm.
“I’m not thinking that’s gonna happen. Which of us would make her the happiest? Pretty sure you know that’s not you.” Wayne moved to the side. “Have a good night, gentlemen.”
Wayne strode away.
Brek clenched his back teeth so hard they should have cracked.
Jase rocked back on his heels. “We both know he’s wrong.”
“Yeah.” Brek stared down at the phone in his palm. He punched in Velma’s number. Her cell rang several times before her voice mail picked up: “Hi, you’ve reached Velma, please—”
He hung up and handed it back to Jase.
Jase pinched his lips closed. “Probably better you talk to her in person.”
Brek jogged toward his bike. An acrid twinge pinched in his chest. He would never outrun the truth of Wayne’s words.
Velma limped to her bedroom with her laptop under her arm and an ice pack against her backside. She propped a pillow under her hip, grimacing at the ache.
Her ringtone came from her phone in the other room. Ugh. She’d left it on the counter. She slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and hobbled to the kitchen.
“Hello?” she said into the phone, dropping her elbows to the counter.
Double ugh. She’d missed the call from Jase. She dialed him back. Voice mail.
Claire had asked her to do a slide show for the reception, and all that was left was the background music. Velma had hoped Brek might help her choose the songs, but it looked like she would be on her own. She moved back to the bedroom.
Frustration from th
e night bubbled in her veins. She shook it off and lifted the screen on her laptop. Instead of clicking the video maker, she clicked open her spreadsheet program. Her cheeks flushed when she stared at her long-neglected dating file.
She tapped the arrow keys, scrolling the file to the bottom. She fell back against the pillows and added Wayne’s name. No surprise, he got a nine. But Wayne had never once made her toes curl or her blood pressure rise—in the best way. He’d never challenged her or made her try new things. Not the way Brek had.
Brek’s encounter with the groupie at the club. His absence at dinner. They replayed in her mind as she stared vacantly at the cells. She smacked her laptop lid closed and placed it aside.
“Velma?” Brek shouted from the kitchen. The clank of his keys against the counter and his boots against the wood floor were a relief she hadn’t expected.
“I’m in here.” Her voice cracked. She pushed herself up.
He burst in, dropped next to her on the bed, and wrapped her in his arms. It had only been one evening, but it felt like forever.
“Thank God,” he said against her forehead. “Jase said you got hurt.”
He held her away from him, his gaze settling on the pillow she’d propped against her backside. His hand went to her waist, just above the bruise. “How bad is it?”
“I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing.” Their breaths mingled as he pulled her to him once more. “Aspen’s in labor. Did Jase tell you?”
“Called Ma. No baby yet. She’ll call your phone when I need to head that way.” He let out a long sigh, not releasing her. “I fucked up and I’m sorry. Shit happened tonight at the club, and my phone’s no longer capable of making or receiving calls. What happened was a fluke. I don’t want to miss anything.”
“You seemed to be having a good time when I saw you there,” she said against his throat.
He shifted on the bedspread, laying her back into the cocoon of pillows she had settled into earlier. His heavy boots clunked to the carpet. He stretched out beside her, resting his hand on the ice pack. “Things took longer than expected.”
“Did it go okay? The meeting?”
Something funny passed over his face. “Yeah.”
“That’s good.” Just because it was good didn’t make it okay that he’d missed being where he’d promised.
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 22