by Cari Quinn
“Lauren.” Her voice was sweet and playful with a hint of something else. He couldn’t quite get there. Could a woman add in snark to just one word?
“West.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He leaned down to her. “Well, you just surprised the fuck out of everyone.”
She took a look over his shoulder and gave a belly laugh. “That crowd is crazy.”
“Fuck, yeah, it is.”
“How about another song?” Molly asked the crowd. “One more?”
The crowd screamed and Molly fell onto her knees. The lights went down and a spotlight focused on her. She crouched over the mic, her hair a curtain around her. The crowd was thundering, but her husky voice was sultry and powerful.
Final song.
Deviating from the setlist was going to get his ass reamed.
“I have to play.”
She nodded and pushed her hair out of her face. Suddenly, she looked a little off, but he couldn’t figure out why. Were her bangs crooked?
Hmm.
He followed the sultry tones of “Walk Away”. It was Molly’s song. She’d composed most of it, with only a little input from him and Michael on the bridge. The lyrics were heavy and emotional.
Each note was wrung out of her and the guitars that wept in time with her. He played the softest layer of melody in the background. As close as he’d been to the classical piano from his childhood.
The song was magic.
Molly did nothing but shine. It was the perfect song to end the set. Molly arched off the stage then back down over her mic one more time, slapping the stage as she let the soulful notes flow out into the night to the sea of lighters and torch apps on phones.
Elle and Juliet moved to help her up and the three girls clustered together. Juliet made gimme fingers behind her back and the rest of the band surged forward. He and Ryan made up the left, Michael and Mal on the right of the girls. Everyone bowed and hugged except Mal.
He simply melted back into the shadows, leaving the rest of them in the light.
Everyone scattered and West hustled to the edge of the stage where Lauren stood. The toes of one of her shoes was turned in and she’d crossed her arms over her middle. Her gaze was on the crowd below. All her natural charisma had leaked away, leaving her vulnerable.
West dug under the drum riser for the T-shirt cannon they kept under there. He’d pulled away some of the focus on their normal shtick on stage with his stage diving. The least he could do was give her a T-shirt.
He grabbed the first one on top and tossed it to her as he dragged her off backstage.
“Wait, I’m with someone.”
West stopped. “Boyfriend?”
She blinked up at him. Damn, those gray eyes were going to kill him. Please say no. She finally shook her head.
He started moving again. “Good.”
She shuffled behind him, stumbling once before righting herself. “You’re taking me backstage? That’s amazing.”
“Least I can do after you outclassed me on the piano.”
“After eight years of lessons, I had to play something other than Chopin or I was going to go out of my mind.”
“I hear that.” He took her hand, their fingers instantly lacing. No fumbling, no fingers out of order—just like her hand was made for his.
They got to the mouth of the hallway and both froze. “Crap.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Lila stood at the end of the hall.
Lauren’s firm hold went to a vise. He frowned down at her, but the fear on her face made him move her closer into his body. “It’s all right, I promise.”
“Not so much.” Lauren gnawed on her deep red bottom lip. “But please don’t turn me away.” She wrapped her other hand around his wrist. “Please?”
Chapter Three
Lauren wasn’t one for begging. Ever. But she’d never imagined getting this close to this kind of research material either. Stuff this juicy would make her a shoo-in to get back into Pomona, and she wasn’t going to stand on ceremony.
Besides, she’d rocked out on “Bennie and The Jets”. Surely that should give her enough cred to play groupie for an evening.
Whatever that might entail.
Her phone chirped in her back pocket—Ethan—and she ignored it in favor of pouring on her questionable charm as she stared up at West.
Well, she stared at his abs first. Seriously impressive.
Then his chest. Equally so.
Finally, she made her way up to his green eyes. Sea-green eyes, the kind that made a girl stupid. Framed in thick, dark lashes that might’ve made the angels weep.
How could someone look so angelic and be such a bad boy? At least according to some of the stories she’d read online, which weren’t always accurate. She couldn’t wait to find out what was fact and what was fiction.
Curling her fingers around his, she pursed her lips, and let her eyes say all the things she couldn’t.
Hey, might as well put her purloined Tumblr knowledge to use. That blowjob look she’d seen from many a woman while she had a cock in her mouth might work here too. Minus dick.
He sucked in a breath and squeezed her hand before pulling her forward to meet with his manager, who was pretty fearsome up close.
Lauren swallowed. Probably had something to do with the nearly getting arrested flashbacks.
“Do you have any clue what you’re doing?” Lila demanded.
“You mean right this instant or in life in general?”
Lauren fought back a grin, ducking her head so her hair shielded her face. Damn wig was so hot and she’d been jumping around like a lunatic, not to mention trying to keep up with a certified genius on the piano. She couldn’t wait to shed the thing in the nearest dumpster.
She’d just have to be herself for a while. See how that went. It wasn’t as if she could pull off any other act for long. It so wasn’t her.
“I mean this.” Lila dragged out her iPad from under her arm and tilted it toward them. Lauren swallowed as she glimpsed a picture of her from November—the one when she’d been carted off by security and had assumed a restraining order was imminent.
Just from lurking around a few rehearsals. And sneaking backstage once. Maybe twice. And possibly hiding in a men’s bathroom stall at Ripper Records to see if any of the male members of the band came inside so she could question them on the fan experience, one-on-one.
She’d only thought to approach the guys, because she had boobs. Huge ones. Might as well use her God-given gifts, right?
But she was almost certain no one knew about the bathroom escapade. None of the band had come in while she was hiding in there anyway. She’d fallen off the toilet and bruised up her knee, but luckily, no cameras in there to witness her embarrassment.
Hey, fledgling spy mission. She’d get better. Probably.
“You might recognize her,” Lila continued while West studied the iPad as if he was deciphering hieroglyphics. “She’s the same girl you decided to pull out of the crowd to join the show.”
West eased back and stared at Lauren, his eyes narrowing. Her heart started to race, pounding against the thin Warning Sign T-shirt that would probably end up as her only memento of this incredible night.
This was it. He was about to tell her the jig was up and she needed to hit the road.
But hey, she still had performed in an actual rock concert. That had to add extra legitimacy to her source material.
“That was you?” West indicated the iPad. “You’re the one who got in trouble for trying to break into our rehearsal?”
Hmm. How best to respond?
Lauren nodded. “Yes. That was me.”
“Huh.” West’s furrowed brow smoothed out and he grinned, letting her hand go just to hold his out again as if he wanted to shake. “Nice to meet you. You’re kind of a legend.”
Lauren blinked at West’s outstretched hand before glancing at Lila, who was about to freeze her in place with the force of her
stare.
Smiling weakly, Lauren nodded. “Um, thanks. So are you. But I probably shouldn’t shake. I don’t want her to slice off my fingers.”
“As you wish. But her bark is way worse than her bite, as long as you’ve had your shots.” West chuckled and slipped his hand in the pocket of his jeans, drawing her attention yet again to the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
That was fine by her. He could just stay half naked forever.
Her gaze darted to the low-slung waistband of his jeans. What kind of treasures was he hiding in those? He wasn’t rocking the tight style some rockers preferred. She had a feeling that meant either he had nothing to brag about or else he had so much, he didn’t want to have the ladies hanging off his…parts.
“Eyes up here,” he said, clearly amused, and she flushed as she returned her gaze to his face.
Looked like an angel, but he obviously had a few devilish thoughts.
Just like you.
“West, you might find this entertaining, but I can assure you I do not. This woman is a threat to the safety of the band.”
Lauren held up her arms. “You can frisk me. I don’t have any weapons, I swear.”
That didn’t seem to improve Lila’s assessment of the situation. “Do I look to you like I go around frisking people?”
“No, but I’ve had a few dreams like that.” West’s serious tone made Lauren stifle a giggle. “She’s my best friend’s stepmother,” he added. “I’m practically family, so I can say inappropriate things.”
“No, you cannot.” Lila gripped her iPad against her chest and directed a glare at Lauren. “Did you or did you not agree to stay away from the band?”
Lauren thought back to the exact exchange. She didn’t want to misspeak. “I believe I agreed not to intentionally get within fifty feet of any of them, yes.”
Lila nodded smugly, but Lauren wasn’t quite finished.
“However, I was at my own seat, minding my own business—”
“Without your shirt,” Lila said. “Minding your own business wearing just your bra.”
Lauren jerked a shoulder. “I wasn’t the only one. Besides, I have very nice breasts.”
“Oh yes, you do,” West said under his breath. “I can vouch for that.”
“Why, thank you. They’re real.”
Lila cleared her throat. “We can stand here all day and debate the worth of your breasts, but I’d rather not. You said you were no threat to the band, and I took you at your word and did not file paperwork to legally prohibit you from—”
“So if I fuck one of them, does that mean I get cuffed?” Lauren asked. “Maybe a net will come down out of the ceiling to catch me mid-coitus? Just curious,” she added, holding up her hands palms out at Lila’s death glare.
West choked on a laugh and Lila directed her wrath at him. “This is your problem,” she said in a low voice. “You invited her back here. If she ends up causing issues, your head is the one going to be on the platter.”
Lila stalked away, her red heels clicking smartly.
Lauren swallowed, more rattled than she wanted to acknowledge. She really didn’t like being yelled at. But bravado was something she’d had to develop at a young age to deal with her parents, and she’d honed the skill at boarding school where the headmistress basically ate meals of nails and bricks. She might be shaking in her wedges, but no one would ever know.
“Which head?” she asked in a small voice, digging her nails into her palm.
West swung his gaze toward her. “What?”
“Which head of yours will be on the platter? Big or little?”
It took a second, but slowly, he smiled. “You mean big or bigger, sweetheart.”
“That’s not what you’re loose jeans say.”
“Oh yeah? My loose jeans say I need room to breathe. If I want to Saran-wrap my junk, I’ll skip the designer price tag.” He jutted his chin down the hall. “So are we going to split or what?”
She gripped her throat, so stunned he wasn’t tossing her out on her butt in the nearest alley that she almost couldn’t speak. That happened exactly…never.
“Split where? And do what?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing. I didn’t actually think something like this was a possibility, except in fanfiction.” She glanced down at her cleavage, still nicely filling out her one-size-too-small T-shirt. “Good going, girls.”
He laughed and the sound did something funny to her chest, shaking something loose that brought an immediate smile to her lips. He smiled back, and she reached up to pull off her wig. It wasn’t a swift transformation, but watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop open as she shook out her pinned-up blond hair was worth the annoyance.
Also, the fact that her scalp could breathe again was worth plenty. Holy crap. She wanted to stick her head under one of those hand dryers in the bathroom.
“You have blond hair,” he stated unnecessarily as she yanked out pins and jammed them in her pockets.
Those would probably hurt later when she forgot and sat down. Might be the only thrill she got for the rest of the night.
Then again, maybe not. She was choosing to be positive. Negativity had done precisely squat for her thus far.
“Yep.”
“Natural?”
“With this skin and these freckles? Yes.”
“You forgot those eyes.”
Since he sounded entirely too approving, she cast her gaze at the floor. She might brazen through sometimes, but she sucked at taking compliments.
Especially when she’d always seen her looks as just the reason her parents had shuttled her off to a boarding school with all girls so she didn’t get “in trouble” with boys.
Ha ha there. Joke was on them. Or on her, since she was still getting vicarious Os from Tumblr.
“And you hid it under that crazy black wig that looks like Elvira’s?”
“Elvira?” Lauren frowned and held up the black mass to examine in under the light. “I was going for vintage Cher.”
“Well, they’re both vintage, but no, I’d say definitely Elvira. Here let me help.” He moved behind her to tug out pins and she tried to suppress a shiver.
So she had a thing for people playing with her hair. She’d known it happened with female hairdressers, but apparently, male fingers worked just as well. This male’s did at least. What else might they be good at?
She bit her lip and dropped her own hand, tilting her head back so he could do all the work. His chuckle floated over her, as oddly relaxing as his strong fingers threading through her hair after he unpinned each section.
“You’re not going to fall asleep standing up, are you?”
“No. My heart’s beating a mile a minute. Hard to fall asleep when you’re so excited you can’t breathe.”
He finished in silence, then walked around her and handed her the rest of the pins. When she would’ve drawn her hand back, he cupped his hand around her fist. “Is this just a fame trip with you?”
An hour ago, she’d have said no, but explained that fame had a lot to do with her reaction. Fame was her ticket to getting back into school, and maybe, just maybe, convincing her parents that she wasn’t the biggest fuck-up who had ever lived.
Now? When she was gazing up into those surprisingly perceptive green eyes, she couldn’t pretend she just cared about her project.
“No. I like you. Your hands are very skilled. Do you provide many climaxes with them?”
She didn’t expect him to laugh. Not just laugh. Bend over and grip his knees as he wheezed.
She frowned. “Did I miss the punchline?”
“No. You’re just something else.” He rose to his full height again and wiped his eyes as her phone chirped again. His laughter drained away as she pulled it out. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She stuffed the remaining pins he’d given her into her pocket and tossed him her wig so she could text unhampered. “If I don’t answer, he won’t lea
ve me alone. He probably won’t anyway. He doesn’t know the meaning of no.”
“Is he hassling you?”
Distractedly, Lauren continued to type. “Always. He thinks it’s his job to take away all the pleasure in my life.”
The second she stopped typing, West gripped her phone and slipped it into his own pocket. “He’s not going to bother you again tonight.”
Wordlessly, she shook her head. She didn’t get his expression, but she was having trouble not bouncing on her tiptoes again.
Anything was possible. Absolutely anything. Redemption. Fun.
Actual sex acts with a living, breathing, sexy man?
Eh, no reason to get hasty. She’d take the first two and take her chances with the third.
West stuck his hand out to her, saying nothing. She inched closer to lace their fingers together just like earlier. Their hands just locked together as if they belonged that way.
Unlike her feet in these torture devices she called shoes. Ditching them was the next thing on her list. Well, maybe not next, but right up there.
First, she was in pursuit of…everything.
He led her to what appeared to be a green room off the main hall. There were chairs shoved against the wall, vending machines, and a table with stacks of bags. Not the best security.
West went right to a battered green one and yanked out a green T-shirt and a brown cardigan. She tried to stifle her little moan of distress as he covered up the perfection that was his chest and torso.
Damn shame.
From his sidelong grin as he pulled the shirt over his head, he’d heard her. Once he’d tugged on the sweater too, he tossed the bag over his shoulder and met her at the doorway, holding out his hand yet again. “Ready?”
That one-word question seemed to hold so much meaning. Maybe just to her.
“Yes.” She grinned and took his hand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Four
Brooklyn Dawn was on stage and the halls were empty of people. West led her through the endless winding hallways to get to the front of the arena. He’d already scouted the good food trucks during his bike ride that morning.
