Sean blinked rapidly at me. “What girl?”
“Blonde hair, legs like an ostrich.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t on the tour bus earlier. She must have been with Ash. He has a tendency to hook up with random chicks.”
For some reason, Sean didn’t want me to think of him in the vein of man-whore extraordinaire, as if it were something to be ashamed of. “I would too if I were him.”
“You would?”
“Of course. Getting a woman to come back to your house to have sex is freaking hard and requires hours of coaxing and wooing. If you are a musician with fame in your arsenal to boot, all you have to do is wave your magic wand.”
Sean cut in. “Is magic wand a euphemism for penis?”
“Do you really think waving your penis would make a woman shed her clothes? Or would she run to the nearest police station to report you as a pervert?”
“Option B.”
“Correct. Anyway, all I’m saying is you guys have a rare power. You might as well use it.”
“Matthew and Ash would agree with you.”
I noticed he didn’t lump himself in with them. “You wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know.” Sean’s gaze drifted over my shoulder to an unknown point in the distance. “I don’t know much about anything any more. Who I am—or think I am—is currently in flex.”
“Because of your divorce?” His silence was enough of an answer. “I understand. After my mom died, I went through the same existential crisis.”
Sean lowered his eyes to meet mine; they were shadowed with sympathy, and for once I didn’t mind. It was the hoverers and the high-pitched talkers that rubbed me the wrong way. They didn’t give a shit my mom had died; they just wanted gossip to spill.
As we walked, the night air caressed my bare feet, sending a chill skittering up my spine. Wearing sandals in winter wasn’t the bright idea, but I was too lazy to change so Sean and I drifted toward Fat Smitty’s.
“When did she pass?” he asked.
“A week before my twentieth birthday. She had a rare form of cancer. One minute she was healthy and laughing, the next she was bedridden and knocking on death’s door.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I switched the spotlight onto him. “Are your parents together?”
“They are, and they’re ridiculously in love.”
“You’re lucky.”
“I am, but it also set an incredibly high standard to live up to.”
“Would it be better if they had set the bar lower?”
“Kind of.” A deep belly laugh that warmed me from the tip of my ears to my toes escaped. “Yeah it would. Then at least I wouldn’t have felt like such a failure when my marriage ended.”
“How are you a failure? Your wife is the one who shacked up with her yoga teacher—which is mighty cliché, I might add.”
“I put the gears in motion. If I hadn’t put my career above her needs…”
The sentence petered out but I easily filled in the blank. He was under the assumption that his passion for music had ruined the marriage. “Are you still in love with her?”
“No, and I haven’t been for quite a while. It took walking in on her and her lover to make me realize that. However, the betrayal still stung like a son of a bitch.”
A staggering amount of relief flooded my bloodstream, which was odd because it shouldn’t have mattered if he was still in love or not. “Do you regret marrying her?”
Sean’s gaze cut over to mine as he smiled. “What is this? Twenty questions?”
“Sorry. My curiosity can get the better of me.”
“No worries. I’m an open book.” He looked beyond the horizon as he said, “Even if I’d had foresight and knew the ugly end to my relationship with my ex-wife, it wouldn’t have stopped me from taking those vows with her. While we didn’t end up dying from old age, hands clasped together, we still managed to have a few amazing years that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”
The cynic inside me didn’t believe Sean was truly that much of a romantic. Why the hell would you willingly hand over your heart on a silver platter to get butchered? Unless…
“Are you a sadist?”
His mouth tipped into a grin. “I’m a man who believes you can’t walk into a relationship assuming the worst. You have to believe things will work out or else what’s the point? Might as well be alone.”
“The point is that when shit does hit the fan—because it will, it always does—then you aren’t standing there like a dumbass thinking what the hell just happened? By expecting the worst, you minimize the damage.”
IT WAS PLAIN AS DAY that her fiancé hadn’t captured her full heart. A piece, perhaps, but not the whole entire beating organ, otherwise he would have ripped away the barbwire she shielded herself with.
“Why are you getting married?”
Melody came to a stumbling stop as she looked at me, startled, as if a giraffe had landed in the middle of the street. “Why?”
“Yes, why? You obviously aren’t the kind of woman who believes in fairytales and white puffy dresses.”
“I used to be.” She spoke it so quietly I inched forward to capture the rest of her words, but there were none.
The mystery of her past was woven into the silence. A tender vulnerability shone in her eyes and my arms felt empty without her in them. I wanted to offer whatever margin of comfort I could, but the dull roar of a truck passing on the highway broke the moment.
Slipping the mask back in place, Melody smiled. “Can we save the deep meaningful conversations until after we eat? I’m starving.”
“Sure.”
We proceeded to Fat Smitty’s where the rowdy vibe and blasting jukebox made it impossible to think, let alone talk. When our food arrived—a double cheeseburger for me and a lettuce and ketchup “burger” for Melody—we dug into the greasy feast. Melody savored each bite, offering a glimpse into what she would be like in the bedroom. As she licked the ketchup from her fingers, she nearly brought me to my knees with intense lust. A blow job from another woman hadn’t satisfied my craving, it would seem only Melody could do that. Jesus, she made me want to break the rules and bend her over the table, and fuck her until she didn’t remember her fiancé’s name, only mine as she cried it out in orgasm.
“Are you ready?” Melody pointed to the door, in case I couldn’t hear.
“I’ll meet you outside.”
Grabbing her jacket, she exited the restaurant. I slumped forward in my seat and cradled my head in my hands. Six weeks of fighting my attraction to Melody might kill me. I could see the headlines: Drummer Dies From Extreme Case of Blue Balls.
With a resigned groan, I threw a twenty on the table and followed after her. My feet crunched on the broken beer bottles littered outside the front entrance. Looking around the vacant lot, Melody was nowhere to be found. Had she decided to head home by herself? Worry swelled up like a tidal wave as drunken laughter that came from around the corner carried on the breeze.
Two stocky men were leaning against the brick wall near the dumpsters, the ember tips of their cigarettes glowing in the darkness.
“Come on sweetie, it will be quick,” the pudgy one said.
“Yeah and then you can move on to me and I’ll show you what a real man tastes like.” The second one cackled, which morphed into a wet hacking cough.
My heart slammed against my ribcage. I stepped closer to get a clearer picture of the situation. A flash of a black hair compelled me to call out, “Hey!”
Their two heads swung over to me, eyes as flat as pennies. They weren’t drunk. They were blackout wasted. Their lips were twisted into cruel smirks, and the men looked to be itching for a fight.
My fists balled at my sides and adrenaline pumped into my veins. “What are you two assholes up to?”
“None of your fucking busin—”
His head jerked backward and blood flew when a fist connected with his nose. He stumbled
, tripped, and fell face first onto the cement, landing with a sickening crunch. The second man didn’t have time to react before a foot connected with his stomach and knocked the wind from his lungs. He slumped onto his knees and curled into a ball.
What the hell just happened?
Their intended victim emerged from the shadows. Melody. She straightened her crumpled dress. “Thanks for distracting them.”
Without thinking, I closed the distance between us and grabbed her by the shoulders. My eyes raked over her torso to assess any damage. She looked unharmed, but the sickening thought of what if caused my airway to constrict. What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? What if the two men had…? I couldn’t go there.
“Look at me Sean.” I stared into her eyes, which were framed by thick black lashes. Calming as the crashing surf, they slowed my heart rate to a normal pace. She laid her palm against my cheek. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? They didn’t…”
“No, they didn’t touch me. They were just two drunken idiots who were all bark and no bite.”
“You should have waited for me.”
Her gaze darkened with annoyance as she dropped her hand. “I don’t need saving.”
The man closest to us groaned and turned onto his back. A purple bruise already colored his jawline.
“Obviously. You kicked the asses of two men twice your size,” I said. “But it’s not safe to go wandering off in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t wander off. I heard a cat.”
“A cat?”
“It sounded sad so I went to go investigate. As I was on my knees, cooing to get its attention, the two men cornered me.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes I’m serious!”
She stomped past me with a huff, which was incredibly adorable. Grinning, I checked to make sure her victims were breathing. They were, and the hangovers they would suffer from the next day would be a bitch and a half.
Melody, a woman with a heart of gold and the skills of a kung fu master. “Do you have any other hidden talents I should know about?” I questioned when I caught up with her.
“I know how to tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue.” My feet stumbled at the visual. She laughed at my smoothness. “I’m joking.”
“Too bad; I would have really liked to see that.”
She cast a glance my way with a wicked smirk. “I’m sure.”
“But in all seriousness, you morphed into Catwoman back there.”
“Hardly. Those were some basic self-defense moves.”
“Don’t be modest. It doesn’t fit you.”
“Hey! I can be modest.” She giggled at my expression of disbelief and caved. “Fine, you’re right. I suck at being modest.”
“There is nothing sexier than a woman with confidence.”
“Other parts of the world would disagree with you.” Melody tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you know any self-defense?”
“I used to do MMA—mixed martial arts fighting.”
“What happened?”
“A torn rotary cuff.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t as if I planned to fight professionally. What’s your backstory? How did you end up learning to kick people’s asses?”
“I wasn’t the popular girl in high school. My glasses, frizzy black hair, and hand-me-down clothes didn’t exactly scream sexpot. I didn’t date and basically lived in a dry wasteland until I was eighteen. Once I got into college, it was a chance to reinvent myself.” Her dark brown eyes shimmered with mirth. “How cliché, huh?”
“I’m guessing your favorite movie was She’s All That?”
Melody snorted. “Hell no. City of Gods.”
Of course she would pick a gritty action flick.
“Anyway, I soon came to the conclusion that I could change my outside appearance all I wanted, but that wouldn’t change how I acted—shy and meek. My friend suggested kickboxing, and once those gloves were fitted on my hands, it was like another woman entered my body. Kickboxing led to self-defense after I started traveling to some of the most dangerous places on earth for work.”
“Damn. I guess you really don’t need anyone to save you.”
“No, but sometimes it’s fun to play the damsel.”
My eyes latched onto her mouth, which was begging to be claimed. She wet her top lip and I bit back a groan. Blood swelled to my crotch as a vivid image of her tongue wrapped around my cock played in my head like a dirty porno. I dug in deep for all the self-control I possessed. My hands curled at my sides instead of in her thick luscious hair that ran in waves down her back. Somehow, despite my best efforts, the space between us closed and our bodies ended up inches apart. Looking up at me with an equal amount of desire written on her face, Melody’s hands entwined behind my neck. Her perfume smelled like peppercorns and cotton candy—sweet and spicy, naughty and nice. I wanted her. No, that wasn’t right - I needed her more than I needed oxygen. My forehead leaned against hers, our ragged breaths mingling together.
“We shouldn’t,” she said in a tortured whisper.
I didn’t disagree. Crossing the line would be stupid and reckless with consequences that reached far beyond tonight. More than that, though, I was a greedy bastard and wanted more than a sample of what Melody tasted like.
My palms ran over her arms, which were dotted with goose bumps. “I have one rule, to not step on another man’s turf, but I have never been closer to breaking that rule than right now.”
The lust-driven layer cleared from her gaze as she stepped away. Her arms around her middle as she flashed me an abashed smile. “We should get back. It’s late.”
I watched her leave with regret swirling in my stomach like battery acid.
MELODY WAS NOTHING BUT CORDIAL to me for the next week, and it made me want to punch someone in the throat. On the plus side, any worries Matthew had about my concentration were put to rest. The cocky asshole probably thought he had cured me of my attraction to Melody, while that couldn’t have been further from the truth. If anything, it had grown stronger.
Taking a swig from an ice-cold beer, I stared at the large flat screen television where a football game played out in high definition. My interest toward the sport fell in the lukewarm category. It was fun to cheer on the winning team, but if you asked me who my favorite player was, I couldn’t say. Ash and Noah’s peels of laughter floated above the crackling jukebox. They beckoned me out with the promise of a lady-free night, which lasted half a beer before two buxom blondes whispered sweet nothings in their ears and cut our bro time short. I threw a wad of twenties on the bar to cover my tab.
“I’m leaving,” I announced.
Ash removed his tongue from the blonde’s throat long enough to ask, “Where are you going?!”
“I’m tired.”
“It’s barely eleven o’clock.”
“Yeah man,” Noah said. “Stay.”
The bleached blonde snuggled closer into Ash’s side. “My friend should be here soon. We can make it a six-some.”
A shudder ran down my spine. Crossing swords with my brothers didn’t appeal to me in the slightest. “I’m good, but thanks for the offer.”
“Any time baby,” she purred.
Ash’s hazelnut eyes danced around my face as if he were attempting to solve the mystery behind my apparent lack of interest. He bent his mouth to the blonde’s ear.
Huffing out a breath, she exited the booth and tugged down her shirt to reveal a swath of creamy white cleavage. “Fucking musicians,” she muttered.
The woman’s friend climbed off Noah’s lap in solidarity. They both returned to the bar in prowl mode, determined to snag their next victim.
“Sit,” Ash said without room for protest. As I slid into the booth, he shoved his beer into my hands. “Drink.”
I pushed the frosty glass back to him. “You can’t order me around like one of your groupies. I’m
a grown-ass man. “
“That is up for debate.” At my glare, he laughed. “Lighten up dude. You have been a rain cloud of misery this past week.”
“Like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh,” Noah interjected.
Ash jabbed his finger at Noah. “Exactly! Like Eeyore, and honestly, it’s bumming me out. You need to get over whatever is twisting your panties into a knot and focus on the positive.” His arms swept open like a game show host. “Enough free pussy to sustain you for the rest of your life.”
For a rock star, I was rather prudish when it came to sex in the sense that I liked it to mean something. Ash, though, viewed our fame as a free ticket to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“At this rate you’re in danger of becoming the poster child for STDs,” I said.
“I’m clean as a whistle, according to my very sexy doctor Mrs. Monica.”
“Does this Mrs. Monica have a medical degree?”
“Nope, but you should see her in a lab coat…” Ash whistled low under his breath. “Almost sent me into cardiac arrest.”
The first real laugh I’d had since my almost kiss with Melody busted out of me. You could always count on Ash to lighten the mood. No longer itching to leave and return to an empty bed, I ordered a new beer. Once the waitress set the pale ale on the table, Ash, Noah, and I clinked glasses.
“Cheers!”
The ice-cold brew slid down my throat as the taste of hops exploded on my tongue. “Damn, that’s good.”
“So…” Ash ventured. “Am I right in assuming Melody is the cause of your foul mood?” When I didn’t dispute his claim, a grin spread across his face. “Oh man, what did you do?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It can’t be that bad.” I gave him a look that said you have no idea and he chuckled. “You’re probably overreacting.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I’d rather not. You aren’t the best when it comes to these kind of things.”
He jerked me to an upright position by the back of my t-shirt. With his attention fully centered on me, he raised a brow. “Spill.”
“We nearly kissed a couple nights ago when we were in Idaho, walking back from Fat Smitty’s.”
Melody of Truth (Love of a Rockstar Book 3) Page 5
