by Susan Ward
My only intent was to help her career and keep my hands off her. The Cockyard seemed as good a place as any to do both. It’s the crossroads of the old guard and the next generation of rock music. The walls are lined with pictures of The Cockyard’s musical hall of fame. Grandpa Jack, my dad, Eric, and yes, noted often, every musician in my family except me. But then why would my picture be on the walls? I’m not the front man or the star. That’s Eric’s slot, and one I’d never want to slip into.
I’ve spent a lot of time here with my dad and the band. It’s a good place to keep current on the industry and the buzz. There are lots of good memories—and bad.
I block the thoughts threatening my mind, not wanting the junk they’ll bring with them. Eric. Tara. Me. That night at The Cockyard that damn near made me enemies with my brother.
Fuck, it was so long ago. Why am I thinking of that? What guy thinks about his old high school girlfriend when he’s out with a girl he’s hot for? What a waste of time. It’s water under the bridge. Eric and I moved past it, Tara and I moved past it, and it’s ancient history. It would never have worked out with her and I wouldn’t want to be with Tara even if she hadn’t cheated.
A guy’s taste in girls changes as he grows up. I’m into a different type. I’m into Avery.
Seeing the smile on her face and the excited looks darted over her shoulder at me, tell me being here with her will fall into the former. A good memory.
Hell, it already is just being here with her. The feel of her in my hand and knowing tonight ends with us in bed makes it worth showing my face in here again and even the wait through all the other shit I have to still do today before we can get this night really going.
“Ethan. Over here.”
My head turns in the direction of the voice and my gaze lands on an unwelcome sight. Fuck, it’s the guys—Hugh, Linc, and Taz—crowded in a booth with their usual mob of girls. I should have expected it, performing tonight and all, but I was kind of hoping they wouldn’t be here. I just wanted one fucking afternoon alone with Avery.
I nod in Hugh’s direction and contemplate continuing behind the hostess to our table. A little privacy with a girl; is it too much to ask?
Fuck, it must be. Hugh scrambles from his booth and crosses the club toward me.
“About time you got here,” he proclaims approvingly, draping an arm around Avery and favoring her with one of his salacious smirks. “Thought you were going to blow us off and stick with your brother all day. That’s how it usually plays out. The Manzones on one side, the rest of the band on the other.”
I shrug, wishing he’d let go of Avery almost as much as I dislike how it feels that he’s always trying to put a wedge between me and Eric. It’s been constant in the last four months. Jabs and cryptic warnings like on stage today. It’d be great if he let whatever hair he’s got up his ass go, but Hugh’s always thinking up stuff, changes he wants for the band that I’m sure don’t include Eric.
“I’m not on any side,” I say, annoyed. “There are no sides, Hugh. There’s just you butting heads with Eric like always. Don’t read anything into me being here without him. Eric had other shit to do and I didn’t come here to get ripped with the guys. I brought Avery here so she can cross it off her events list.”
His gaze turns irritated. “You’re going to have to take sides eventually, E. The label’s ripping up our contract unless we make some changes. There’s no stopping it. Eric’s out of the band starting tomorrow. We’re signing new contracts without him. You need to figure out soon if you’re in or if you’re letting your brother shit-can your career with his.”
“You’re full of it, Hugh. The label wouldn’t want that and neither should the band,” Avery states, stepping between me and Hugh. “Don’t you get tired of spewing nonsense and having no one take you seriously? Maybe you should close down the rumor factory and stop trying to pit brother against brother so you can push Eric aside and replace him.”
She crosses her arms with her gaze boring into him and his jaw tightens, mouth clamped shut.
“Exactly as I thought,” she announces, lifting her chin. “More bullshit drama. I’ve already told you it’s never going to happen, the label won’t cut Eric loose, which is why I ignore everything you tell me and it never makes the blog.”
I’ve no clue how Hugh got from grumbling on stage during sound check to cocksure it’s a done deal and feeding tidbits of his agenda to our resident blogger. Jesus Christ, how long has he been spewing to her this garbage and why didn’t she tell me? Yet Hugh’s expression warns this isn’t his usual hot air. He’s practically gloating in my face.
“He’s full of shit,” I finally say as they both wait for a response from me. “You’re right about that, Avery. Without Eric, there is no band. You said it yourself, Hugh. He’s the talent.”
He shakes his head at me as he rapidly searches my face. “Fuck. Eric hasn’t told you anything, has he? That’s why you weren’t at the meeting with the label this afternoon. What a fucking shitty thing to do, keeping you shut out as always.”
Meeting? What meeting? And I can’t help but wonder if this is what Eric’s been hiding from me, what’s got him so on edge lately. That there really are problems for my brother with the label and it’s not merely Hugh running his mouth. It would be like Eric not to reach out for my help and try to fix things on his own.
Christ. There seems to be a lot going on with Eric’s life I don’t know about. I certainly didn’t know about any meeting with the label today and Hugh wouldn’t be this intense if it hadn’t gone badly for Eric.
Way to leave a brother flying blind. And, fuck, he should’ve known I’d back him up any way I could. But whatever’s going down no way I’m discussing it first with Hugh. “I’m not shut out of anything, Hugh. Because where I stand should be clear to everyone.”
“Are you saying if Eric’s out, you’re quitting?” he asks too in my face for my taste.
“Try paying attention. What I’m saying is if Eric’s out there’s no band. Not for any of us. Not happening. Nothing could make me do my brother wrong that way. And it’s flat out wrong, Hugh, to cut him out since he’s your friend and the one who’s made us what we are. Fuck, you used to know shit like that without me having to tell you.”
Hugh flushes and his body puffs up taut with anger. “Here’s what I know, E. He’s also the one fucking things up for everyone. Even you, and you’re too blind to see it. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“I don’t know why you think I should,” I snap, losing a measure of my always cool temper with Hugh. The last thing I want to do is get in a pissing match with him in front of a packed, gawking room. This place is the center of the music industry’s gossip hub on the west coast.
Fuck, this story is going to hit online by morning. It’s amazing it hasn’t already with how Hugh’s been flapping his gums. To everyone, no doubt, since he’s gone so far as to attempt to plant stories with Avery and it should have been obvious to him it was never going to get him anywhere with her. She’s got too much integrity for that.
We square off with our stares and Hugh looks away first. “I get the loyalty thing to your brother. Don’t think I don’t. But don’t you think you should have some loyalty to the guys, too?”
I shake my head at him because he won’t let it go when everything about my expression and posture should have told him I’m done with this. “Someone has gotta keep you guys from doing something stupid. Christ, it’s the last performance of the tour. Can you just lighten up, man, for one day? Can’t you stow your ego for one night? This used to be about making music, hanging with our friends, and having fun. Now all any of you guys seem to care about is fucking over Eric. I just want to make some music and have fun.”
“Whatever you want, E,” Hugh says. “None of us have a problem with you. We never have. That’s not what this is about. Can we forget this and move on?”
He pins me with his eyes, and I can tell he’s wondering if we’re cool
or not. I hate that I can’t tell if this is sincere or part of his next move to undermine Eric. But I decide to err on the side of friendship, because we’ve been friends since elementary school, and I’m not changing it unless the guys do something that forces me to.
“It’s already forgotten,” I assure him, and a cautious smile replaces the tight line of his lips.
He chuckles. “Then why are we standing here without drinks in our hands? The booth is crowded, but I’m sure we can make room. Fuck, we’ll push another table together if we can’t.”
He juts his chin the direction of the guys for us to follow him.
Avery faces me and puts her hands on my chest. “No chance we’re sitting with the guys today, Ethan. Remember, this is our first date. No crowded table. No band. No shop talk. Just me. A girl must have standards in this. Hugh and the guys? Not happening.”
She smiles sweetly, batting her eyelashes, but I know this is her having my back and giving me a neat way out from another scene with Hugh.
Correction. A great fucking out that I’m all for. I run a hand through my hair and grin. “Don’t worry. No way I’m passing on that. Catch up with you guys later, Hugh.”
I loop my arm around her shoulders, easing her into me, and Hugh’s mouth drops. “Wait. When did this happen? You’re a couple now?”
His voice shoots fresh anger through me because that wasn’t asked in the way a guy does when he’s happy for his friend. And it may be trivial with all that’s gone down, but that pisses me off the most. Because Hugh and I are tight, and I told him a long time ago how I felt about Avery.
Christ, how did things get so fucked up? I can almost see the wheels spinning in his head. It’s like he’s wondering how long we’ve been together, and if this is why Avery hasn’t printed the stories against Eric he’s been giving her. I bet he’s even wondering what this means to whatever he’s trying to maneuver behind my brother’s back because Avery has a powerful platform and knows how to use it.
I consider how to answer—briefly. “Yep. We are.” And I brush past him, leaving him to wonder about that and whatever else he wants.
Fuck him.
“Is it too late for me to remind you we’re a long way from being a couple?” Avery whispers in my ear. “Hell, you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”
My brows lift, not certain if she’s joking. “I’ve bought you lots of dinners.”
“Not the same thing,” she points out. “Not when we say good night and each go home alone afterward. That officially makes it not a date. It makes it sharing a meal.”
Still not sure if this is playful banter or something more serious, I decide to continue as if she’s being flirty. “Does it count if I go home and think of you?”
“Did you used to go home and think of me?”
“Yes, every time. Do they count as quasi-dates now?”
She crinkles her nose. “No. Not if I didn’t think of you afterward.”
I pause at the table to gape at her. “You didn’t think of me, not even once? Ever?”
She shakes her head and I feel my mood dip lower. Then the sparkle sneaks into her eyes. “Had you going, didn’t I, mister? Yep, I thought of you. Lots—” Heavy emphasis on lots to rib me more. “—but I was usually able to push you from my mind fast and sleep.”
Her spirited expression makes me smirk. “Then I’ll have to work better at being less forgettable.”
“You should put not being overly confident on the list, also,” she suggests in a helpful way. “You’ve pushed all your chips into the center of the table the first hand—or I should say the first date. You’ve told your friends we’re a couple. Not a very guy thing to do. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I might decide in the morning this was a mistake and I don’t like you.”
I rub my jaw as if considering that and, fuck, does in the morning sound good. Enough that I feel a twitch behind my zipper. “You might decide that it wasn’t a mistake and you do like me.”
It’s then I notice the hostess watching us and gesture for Avery to sit. She plops down into our booth, bounces over to leave me a spot beside her, and takes a menu. “True. But that’s going to take some work. I don’t want you thinking I’m a done deal or anything.”
“I’m positive I can put in as much effort as you need me to,” I taunt as I slip across the red leather until our sides fully touch and my arm’s behind her on the top of the seat.
Her eyes follow the hostess until she leaves our table. “I can help you make a really good effort if you let me,” she promises, turning her upper body into me and making me wonder what this is about.
She waits expectantly with her adorable impish expression for my consent. “Won’t pass on that offer either.”
Then she surprises me by kissing her way along my jaw before placing her thumbs on my eyebrows to lightly stroke my forehead.
As nice as this feels, I preferred the kisses, and the point of this escapes me. “What are you doing?”
“Shush. Close your eyes.”
I hold back my smile, and when I close my eyes she traces across my lids, my brow, and between my nose. She keeps at it so long I’m certain what she’s doing looks odd, even in here, but, whoa, does her touch gets my body clear of the debris of Hugh’s petty shit, laser focused on her, and the blood gushing through my veins—and elsewhere—again. “Where did you learn to do that? Do you study the art of Chinese acupressure in your spare time?”
“Shush.”
Her mouth close to my ear makes me shiver and her breasts massaging my arm with the moves of her fingers fill me with raw hunger.
“Forget, Hugh. Forget your brother. Forget the band. Forget the problems. Think only of me and—” She grazes the side of my neck with her lips. “And how good it’s going to feel when I touch you everywhere. This is our night, Ethan. I want our first date to be one I remember forever. Forget everything else. Tell me when you’ve forgotten so we can restart our date.”
“I don’t have to forget, Avery.” I open my eyes to find her face a whisper from mine. “I can’t think of anything but you when you’re with me.” My hand cups behind her neck, pulling her mouth toward mine, because not kissing her is no longer an option.
Chapter Eight
I sign the check, close the leather holder, and glance at my watch. “We’ve got to hit it, Avery. It’s almost six.”
She frowns. “Really? It doesn’t feel that late to me.”
Her reaction thrills me. “For me, either. Every time I’m with you time flies. So how did our first date go? More memorable than your first kiss?’
She swats me, and I curl over to avoid her hands, laughing. I’ve got to stop giving her crap about that. Especially since the last thing I want to think about is Eric.
“You’re never going to stop giving me a hard time over that, are you?” she accuses spiritedly. My lips pucker as I choke back my humor, but it’s hard. She’s doing a good show of pretending to be annoyed. “And I’m not telling you how our date went. Not after that comment. Besides, it’s not done yet.”
My hand covers my heart like that wounds, but the not done yet part gives me a hard-on. We hardly drank tonight, but I’m feeling kind of buzzed from the supercharged pull between us. We’re sitting so close and I’m fully aware of her. The waiting to be with her is cock-taunting torture.
“I promise never to bring that up again,” I say, a contrite expression on my face. “You know, the part about you getting with my brother first.”
Her lids fly wide and her cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t get with him. I let him kiss me. Once. He tried to kiss me a second time and I wouldn’t let him. I was completely unimpressed with it.”
“I hope you don’t feel that way when I kiss you.”
“No comparison. Not even close.”
I run my thumb down her jaw and her lips part slightly. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could blow off everything tonight? Go somewhere and be alone.”
Then she hugs me. “Today would be perfect if we went t
o your place now,” she murmurs, her mouth near mine. A shiver moves through me. “I’d be down for that if you were. But you’re not, you’d never let the guys down like that, and I’ve got to work, so we can’t.”
That’s my cue to get moving. Only I don’t want to. Instead I hold her tighter. “No disappearing on me while you work. I don’t care who’s backstage. No interviews tonight. No grabbing a photo for your blog. You stay close all night where I can see you. The second I’m off stage we’re out of there and we’re not leaving my place for a week.”
Giggling, she snuggles closer to me. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” She kisses my chest and my body feels like I’m damn near ready to go at it here in the booth.
I bury my lips in her hair. “I want you so fucking much, Avery.”
“Me, too. I want you so much, Ethan. I have for a very long time.”
It surprises me that relief mixes with the lust flooding me, and I realize that until this moment I wasn’t sure if her wanting to have dinner instead of going to my place wasn’t a stalling tactic of some sort. Strange, but even as good as this has been, that suspicion came to me more than once.
My gaze fixes on the club and I’m positive those doubts have everything to do with being here and the memory of what went down the last time I was at The Cockyard. Eric and Tara. Having my heart ripped to shreds by a girl I loved and being screwed over by my own brother.
But that’s the past. I’m here with Avery. It’s time to stop letting stupid shit cloud that and go with what I feel.
Cupping her face in my hands, I gaze into her eyes, and what’s flickered there all afternoon is now blazing. My warring emotions are put to rest by the rightness of being with her.
I crash my mouth into hers, and the way she moves against my kiss sets me on fire. Her lips part and I slide my tongue inside, and my heart slams against my chest because she’s kissing me like there’s nothing else in the world.
She clutches my shirt, pulling back and tucking her face so that her hair teases my chin. I hear her laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever made out this much in public before. If we keep this up someone’s going to throw a bucket of ice water on us. I’m surprised someone hasn’t already.”
