The Other Side of Wrong

by Christi Barth

She stared at him—through him—as she tightened the ponytail, then replaced her cap. “It’s a step in the right direction. One that I’m grateful for. Because I meant it when I warned I wouldn’t put up with sneaking around for very long. It’s dishonest. Lying to your best friends, my sister—that’s not ideal.”

  “I know. This is all on me. I’m sorry I’m putting you through it.”

  Hell, Jake knew it was wrong. Wrong to lie to Cam and Jones, wrong to do anything that he felt he had to hide from the world. Most of all, it was disrespectful to Cassidy. She deserved better. He just couldn’t handle it, though, until after these concerts finished. After the big MCQ Pharma board meeting where the course of his next few years got decided.

  “I like the idea of a romantic night.” Cassidy’s voice brightened, as if she knew she’d pushed just far enough. The way she could read him was amazing. “Baltimore? Do you think we could get a waterfront view?”

  “You bet.”

  “But no crabs. I don’t have the patience to spend five minutes digging for a shard of a bite.”

  “Duly noted. So far today I’ve learned you look far better than my dad in white lace, and that you don’t like crabs. We’re making big strides in this relationship.”

  They toasted again and laughed a little more. The combination washed away at least the top layers of residual bitterness and anger from the argument with his father. Being with her didn’t solve Jake’s pyramid of problems. But it sure made him feel better, feel more able to shoulder them.

  For now.

  Because for all of her earnest declaration about just wanting to share moments of a life? Would she still feel that way if he wasn’t a rock star anymore? Not because it meant giving up fame or fortune.

  But because it’d mean Jake giving up who he truly was.

  Would Cassidy still like Jake if he did give up music and became a, God help him, business man?

  Would Jake still like himself?

  CHAPTER NINE

  The bumper-to-bumper traffic on 95 between Philadelphia and Baltimore was far from picturesque. Cassidy was grateful, though, for the bus time to catch up on social media.

  Yes, her publicist helped with a ton of it, and if things with Sarah worked out, she’d transition some of the daily posting to her. But she’d never stop popping in to chat with fans. That connection mattered. And spending the last three days secretly bopping around Philly with Jake had put her behind.

  Not that she regretted a single moment.

  All the time they spent together simply made Cassidy crave more. More laughter, which rolled out of him much more easily now than when she’d first reconnected with him almost three weeks ago. She was falling hard for him. The most wonderful, surprising thing was that the sexy, talented hunk of musician appeared to be falling equally hard for her.

  As Cassidy scrolled through Instagram, regret niggled its way into her consciousness. Her feed didn’t show any pictures of her with Jake.

  This whole secrecy thing didn’t feel right. Like a shirt that technically fit but itched and didn’t lay right.

  Her finger froze, hovering over a photo from Sarah’s feed. From the concert with Riptide the night before. A selfie, with Cassidy in the background and tagged.

  A selfie that showed her sister wearing a freaking diamond and onyx choker.

  The choker that Cassidy had decided not to wear in favor of a necklace that didn’t hug her throat. The choker that she’d tasked Sarah with boxing back up and putting in the safe at the club.

  She uncurled herself from the recliner. Took a beat to realize that all the members of Riptide were sprawled around her. Their second bus got a flat on a deep pothole. The trip to Baltimore wasn’t very long, so everyone had crammed onto one bus and left Kyoko, Matt and Kylie behind to get it fixed.

  There’d be an audience if Cassidy yelled at Sarah right now.

  On the other hand, actions had consequences. Would her sister be embarrassed? Maybe.

  But not as embarrassed as Cassidy would’ve been if anything had happened to that necklace, and the press had reported that she’d conveniently “lost” a vintage piece that cost half a million dollars.

  Embarrassed didn’t begin to cover it. How about criminally liable? Because that’s what the lawsuit would most certainly say.

  “Sarah!”

  Her sister didn’t look up from the iPad Cassidy had handed down to her. Because she wanted Sarah to experience all the wonders of this wide world that their ultra-conservative parents had kept from her. Because she wanted to share with Sarah some of the perks of her over-the-top lifestyle.

  But Sarah expecting those perks was a different thing altogether.

  Cassidy plucked the earbuds out from under Sarah’s dark braids. “We need to talk.”

  That elicited a snort, and a lazy head tilt up to look at her. “Funny. Does that mean you’re breaking up with me?”

  “Not…yet.” If this was a scheduled vacation, then she would’ve detoured the bus to BWI and put Sarah on a plane.

  But her sister was…well, not a runaway. In need of help to identify her options out from under their family’s strict thumb. A refugee, seeking asylum anywhere in the world but back home. Cassidy had both been there and done that—the hard way. If she could make the transition easier for Sarah, it was her responsibility to at least try.

  Maybe her essentially new-to-her sister was like a new baby. Still needing rules and training and understanding.

  Cassidy had never even kept a guppy alive for more than four days. Maybe Sarah’s slip-up was partly her own fault. Maybe she hadn’t laid out the rules clearly enough.

  Instead of looming over Sarah, she perched on the chair. Angling the phone so she could see the photo, Cassidy said semi-calmly, “I told you to box up that necklace and put it in the safe.”

  “I did.”

  “Only after you wore it. Without asking permission.” Seriously? Cassidy could hardly believe she had to spell out Sarah’s transgression.

  “You weren’t wearing it.” A half-hearted shrug paired with zero expression of anything resembling either apology or guilt. “So why would I need to ask? You were already all dressed and back stage.”

  Cassidy snuck a look forward, at the couch where Jake and Cam were huddled over a laptop, composing. Or at least, they had been. Now they were both unabashedly watching the sister drama unfold. Eyebrows sky-high, Cassidy tried to send Jake a wordless plea for what to say.

  The one-cocked, one-crinkled eyebrow combo he shot back was, while adorable, utterly useless. Because all it said was a clear “‘how am I supposed to know.”

  Cam’s smirk was equally unhelpful.

  Cassidy double thumped her chest as she looked back at Sarah. “It was only insured to me. You had no right to take it.”

  “Geez, nobody knew it was real. I looked hot in it. No harm, no foul.” Another shrug.

  And for one wild second, Cassidy wondered if her parents adhered to such strict rules because it was the only way to control the rampant attitude of a teenager.

  “This time,” she emphasized. “This time, nothing happened. Because you were lucky. But if the clasp had slipped loose? If you took it off in the bathroom because it itched and forgot it in there? If anything had happened to it? I would have been responsible.”

  “Omigosh, drama queen. No big deal. You’d just replace it.”

  “That was a vintage piece worn by Lisa Marie Presley. Worth more than five hundred thousand dollars. There’s no replacing it. Ever. Nor is it up to you to be so cavalier with my money. Not with five dollars, let alone five hundred thousand.”

  “I’m your sister. That means we share things.” There was a droop, a pucker in Sarah’s lower lip. It was impossible to say, however, if it was a genuine sadness at missing out on a sister bond…or a strategic way to get out of trouble.

  “Sharing has its limits. Let me clarify a new rule. We can share, but you have to ask first. No sharing anything that’s insured for more money t
han, oh, a VIP ticket to one of my concerts. No sharing of men.” Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Cassidy finished with, “And no sharing of chocolate covered pretzels. They’re my weakness.”

  Dark eyes snapping, Sarah pushed roughly past her. “I’m going to the bathroom. Are you okay with sharing the toilet paper?”

  Okay, guess the true answer was that Cassidy would be the one embarrassed that Riptide witnessed this fight. Her sister’s rudeness snapped the frayed band off her temper. “Don’t be a snot. Are you here to help me? Or to just help yourself to everything I've worked for?”

  Sarah heaved in a loud, long breath. Then she stormed to the back of the bus and slammed the bathroom door without saying another word.

  “Well, that spiced up our Facebook Live.” Cam held up his phone, twisting it side to side. “Want to say goodbye to the fans now, Cassidy?”

  Surprise—genuine, jaw-slackening shock—dropped her mouth open. Swallowing down the scream trying to work its way up her throat, she said in a near-whisper, “You didn’t.”

  “Of course, I didn’t.” Cam surged to his feet, showing her the phone screen open to his email. “Jesus. It was just a joke. I’d never do that to you.”

  Right. What a stupid, knee-jerk reaction. One aimed at Sarah that just went the wrong way. Cassidy grabbed his shoulder for support and squeezed. “I know. I trust you. All of you. I just…I never thought my sister would violate my trust.”

  “She’s still a kid. Growing pains,” Cam reassured her as he led her back to the recliner.

  Jones pointed one of his ever-present drumsticks for emphasis. “This was her freebie. She’ll sulk, realized how bad she screwed up, and do better next time.” He tossed the stick in the air, twirling three times before he caught it with a dirty, lecherous wink. “But if you need someone to spank her, I’ll volunteer.”

  It hadn’t taken long for Cassidy to notice that Jones could be counted on to slough off a tough situation with a laugh.

  Thank goodness.

  Jake grabbed the stick and rapped Jones along the ribs with it. “We talked about this. Sisters are off-limits.”

  “It was a selfless offer. Glorified babysitting.”

  “Yeah, of the BDSM variety.” Then Jake flicked Cam on the head. “Don’t tease our guest. We all agreed to act like adults while she caravanned on our bus, remember?”

  Oh.

  That’s right.

  In front of Cam and Jones, Cassidy was nothing more than a guest. Not a girlfriend. Good thing Jake had reminded her of that a split second before she turned to him for a reassuring hug.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t want anyone to stand on ceremony. I love that we’re all peers here. It’s refreshing not having to watch what we say for fear it’ll end up on the Internet.”

  “No chance of that. Not when you’re with Riptide.” Jake crouched next to her, handing over a can of ginger ale. “Drink this. It’s not a double shot of Grey Goose, but bubbles always seem to help.” Shielded from everyone else’s view by his broad shoulders, Jake gave her thigh a comforting squeeze.

  And the tenderness in his blue eyes promised there’d be more comfort to come later.

  It was enough. For now.

  “Thanks.” She took a miniscule sip of the soda to let Jake know she appreciated his gesture. Its pure sweetness was a shock to her tongue. The fact that it wasn’t diet was proof this was usually an all-male bus. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you guys about.” A change in topic, a distraction, was the best thing for her. Doing her best Godfather impersonation—which probably didn’t even come close—Cassidy lowered her voice, puffed out her cheeks and said, “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  With a comedically oversized leer, Jones leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Is spanking still on the table?”

  Cam drew his hand sharply across his throat in a shut up, now gesture. “Dude. It was never on the table.”

  But Jones’s over-the-top teasing did its job. Distraction accomplished. Mood even lifted the teensiest bit. She responded by putting her hands over her heart. Lashes fluttering, she said, “It’s no secret that I’ve been a huge fan of your group forever. I grew up thinking you were all dreamboats.”

  Jake almost laughed but turned it into a snort.

  Cam, on the other hand, frowned. Eyes mere blue slits, he growled, “Feeling old here, Cassidy. Get to the good stuff.”

  “I love your new songs. I want you to sign and to rock the world to its knees yet again in amazement at your talent. Which means I want to do my part to help. To make you so visibly awesome that EmKat records has to sign you.”

  “That’s sweet. Above and beyond.” Cam hopped the aisle to give a one-armed hug. And wasn’t it interesting to watch Jake bristle at that? His whole body sort of puffed up, like a cobra baring its hood right before striking. Cassidy bit back a grin as Cam stood back up. “But we don’t expect you to march in there and try to intervene on our behalf. That puts you in an awkward situation.”

  “I know. That’s why I have a better plan. Right now, we’ve only got the joint concert in Baltimore left. I’d like us to do one more.” In fact, she’d been bursting with excitement since the idea came to her two days ago. The hard part had been waiting for the right moment to spring it on them.

  Jake frowned—as expected. His skittishness about literally anything and everything happening after Baltimore was why Cassidy had decided to not be normal and tell her boyfriend first. Instead, she’d waited until the whole group was together in hopes peer pressure would get him to make the smart decision.

  His palm rasped loudly against the two days of dark scruff on his cheek. “My schedule’s not flexible. Hell, it’s not my own at all, truth be told.”

  “Mmm, I’m pretty sure you’ll make time for this.” Cassidy was doing the slow reveal on purpose. Building up interest and excitement like the gazillion layers of phyllo dough in the baklava they’d gorged on last night after the concert. “I want us to go out with a bang. At Madison Square Garden.”

  Cam groped behind him before collapsing onto the couch. Jake’s jaw dropped. And Jones dropped his other stick.

  Their reaction was beyond gratifying.

  Tunneling his fingers through his dark hair, Cam spoke in an almost hollow voice. “How? That place is booked months, even years in advance.”

  “I booked it. Months ago.” Okay, so she let a little smirk slip out. Because this was too much fun. Cassidy bounced up to walk the aisle as she laid out the details. “The plan was to do a secret pop-up concert. No chance for ticket re-sellers to hike the prices. It’d be purely for the true fans. Twelve hours’ notice. A drop everything for the best night of your life deal.”

  “You think—you know—you can fill the Garden in only twelve hours?” Jones half-bowed from his seat, flourishing with his hand. “Your balls are as big as mine.”

  “That better not be all hype and no literal hugeness, Jones, because I want Riptide to be right there with me. One last joint concert that goes beyond viral.” She threw her arms so wide that her fingers grazed the edge of the giant television. “We’ll invite a ton of press. We’ll reward superfans. We limit it to four tickets per person, which should also cut down on price-gouging. And we save exactly five seats for EmKat.”

  Cam’s gaze bopped from her, to Jones, to Jake and then back. Excitement lit him up from the inside and blazed out his blue eyes and blinding smile. “This is, well, generous doesn’t begin to cover it. We’d owe you. I’ll have to explain to Kylie that our firstborn’s going to have to be named some form of Cassidy, no matter what the gender.”

  Jones slid right off the chair down to his knees. “Holy fucknuts. You’re having a baby?”

  “Not any time soon. But we love each other, so it’s in the cards, you know? Like a five-one chord resolution. Inevitable and satisfying.”

  Without moving from the floor, Jones squinted at Cassidy. In suspicion, like he knew th
ere had to be a catch. “When?”

  “In exactly a week.” That’d be the hardest part for them to swallow. No significant chance to plan or rehearse or prepare. “Look, I know that’s soon. But I don’t want this to be an over-produced explosion of sets and costumes and video montages. I envision it as old school rock. We play. We bring the audience along with us, into the music. That’s all they need. Raw. Naked.”

  Jones did some crazy karate-like move that popped him from his knees to standing. “Actually naked? I mean, I’m definitely on board with that, but I feel like we’d incur a hell of a fine from New York’s finest.”

  “The music will be naked. We’ll be conforming to standard decency levels of clothing. But that’s the name for the concert. One Naked Night with Cassidy. And Riptide, if you agree.”

  Jake finally spoke up. Slowly. Haltingly. “That’s right before the board meeting for MCQ Pharma.”

  “Right before means no conflict, doesn’t it? I’ve never heard of a board meeting that starts at nine at night.”

  “Technically, yeah. It’s two days before. Not a lot of time for the press, the word of mouth to dissipate.”

  Cam’s brows slammed together into a frown so hard that it was almost audible. “Uh, we don’t want it to dissipate. If this concert works, our name will be on everyone’s lips again. In a good way, this time.”

  It hurt Cassidy to watch the internal struggle reflected in Jake’s locked muscles and squared-off jaw. He turned to her. “Look, I’m on board the grateful train for this offer. Thank you. I just know that my being up there, on that stage, well…it'll reflect poorly for the meeting.”

  “You being up there, on that stage, is what makes this work.” Cam gestured between himself and Jones. “We’re not Riptide without you.”

  “Cam’s right. Playing with Dylan was fine. Great, even. But it wasn’t the same as rocking with you.”

  Cassidy wanted to help Riptide, as a whole. More so, though, she wanted to give Jake this win. The chance to do some lasting good for, and with, his friends, in case he truly did end up walking away from all of it after the meeting.