Cover Me (Jaded Ivory Book 3)

by Rebecca Brooke

  Cover Me

  rebecca brooke

  Copyright © 2017 by Rebecca Brooke

  Cover Design by Marisa-rose Shor of Cover Me Darling

  Editing by Ryn Hughes of Delphi Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  To the people who fight through life every single day. Here’s hoping your fairy tale finds you.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Heath

  Sweat slid down my temple. The heat of the lights was pushed to the back of my mind as the crowd went wild. All the discomfort of being on stage for hours at a time was worth that sound. Something I’d never grow tired of. I looked up at where Mari stood at the microphone. As the lead singer for Jaded Ivory, she helped the band reach a level of success I could have only dreamed about. On cue, I stepped around the keyboard at the same time Jackson and Monty put down their guitars.

  “Thank you, Kirkland Center. You’ve been awesome. Good night.” Mari stepped back from the microphone and followed the rest us off stage as the lights went down.

  We’d already played two encores and I knew the rest of the band had to be as exhausted as me. A hand landed on my shoulder as I passed through the curtain. I glanced back to see Monty with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Time to party, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? You’re not ready to fucking crash?”

  Asshole jumped up and down. “Not in the least. The adrenaline’s pumping and I need a release.”

  “More like you need a wild fix.” Jackson stepped up next to me.

  “Maybe.” Monty winked.

  Monty happened to be the crazy member of Jaded Ivory. Usually out creating some type of chaos. Always happy to be the center of attention. But his energy was infectious. The exhaustion that had settled over me while we were on stage slowly melted away as I watched him bounce down the hall toward the dressing room.

  “I’d hate to agree with him, but I’m ready for a drink,” Jackson said. “That crowd was fantastic.”

  “We’ve been on tour for two months. All the crowds have been awesome.”

  “Yeah, but this is the first time we’ve played so close to home. A lot of the people out there have probably been with us since the beginning.”

  He had a point. We’d spent years playing in bars throughout the area, building up a following. Then a little over a year ago, we were contacted by LiteStar records about a recording contract. They had us release a teaser album with a few songs on it to see how well it would sell. It went beyond any of our expectations. But nothing could have prepared us for what would happen with the release of the first single off the full album.

  Things exploded.

  Overnight we became stars. The one single sold over two million copies in the first day. We went from being a well-known opening act to the headliner.

  And everything changed.

  Even simple things like going to the grocery store became a chore. People asking for autographs. Paparazzi trying to get their next photo.

  Up until then, Mari, our lead singer, had taken the brunt of the gossip blogs bullshit. They seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with her and her boyfriend, Cole. That might have been because Cole had been all set to play professional football before getting injured. Now he was the youngest and most successful offensive college football coaches in the country.

  Since our single “Midnight Dream” hit number one, we’d gone from being poor musicians to having everything at the touch of a button. I hadn’t grown up with a lot of money and my dad sacrificed a lot over the years to get me here. It was nice to know all his hard work paid off, even if he wasn’t around to celebrate with me. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine my life like this. A platinum album right out of the gate.

  “All right. You’ve convinced me. Where do we want to go?”

  “Again,” Monty whined. “Do they ever keep their hands to themselves?”

  We’d turned the corner to find Sawyer and Reagan wrapped in an embrace. Not that it was new for me. Sawyer, Reagan, and I shared a house. They had one wing, while I had the other, and we shared the common areas. Let’s just say, Sawyer and Reagan weren’t very good at keeping their hands to themselves. Once Sawyer had been forced out of the closet by some sleazy reporter, and they’d stopped hiding their relationship, he became more comfortable in his own skin.

  Like always, Sawyer had his signature drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. I grabbed them and tapped each of them on the shoulder with one. They both turned to face us.

  “Think you guys can keep your hands off each other long enough to go grab a drink?” I asked with a raised brow.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d interrupted them and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Thankfully, I hadn’t walked in on anyone having sex. They always made it to their room before things got that far.

  Reagan smirked. “I’m sure we can. And I know the perfect place. An old teammate of mine owns a club in the city. I’ll give him a call and make sure we’re set up in the private section so you guys won’t get bombarded.”

  “I think I like the sound of that,” I said.

  I completely appreciated the fans, but a drink where we could unwind and enjoy the high of the night sounded perfect.

  “What are we waiting for?” Monty was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  “You’re going to be a handful tonight, aren’t you?” Jackson asked.

  Monty lifted his hands. “I promise to behave.”

  Reagan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “You’d better. I don’t feel like working tonight.”

  As a lawyer for the label, they decided the best thing to do was send Reagan with us on tour. Monty’s behavior wasn’t a secret from anyone. It had been easier to curb when he’d been work
ing his ass off to help make sure we had enough songs to record, but we all knew the extra free time on tour would make him restless and antsy. It had happened every break while we were in college. Nothing too crazy. At least until the paparazzi started following our every move. They loved to blow his harmless antics out of proportion.

  “I haven’t gotten—”

  “Don’t even say you haven’t gotten in trouble,” Reagan warned. “I’ve worked my ass off to keep you out of the papers. I want one night I don’t have to intercept cell phones before shit gets loaded to the Internet and goes viral.”

  “I’ll keep my eye on him.” Mari emerged from a door on the left.

  “Where have you been?” Sawyer asked, lifting his brow up and down.

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “Smartass. Cole doesn’t leave until tomorrow for this weekend’s game.”

  “Oh, oh, can I watch the Skype chat?” Monty practically interrupted. “Ow,” he moaned, rubbing the back of his head.

  Jackson wasted no time knocking him upside it. “Knock it off.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, always the peacemaker. “Everyone get changed.” I turned to Reagan. “Can you call your friend and let him know we’re coming?”

  God, it felt weird to have to announce our arrival somewhere.

  “Can do.” He pulled out his phone and walked down the hall hand in hand with Sawyer.

  “I’ll text the driver and have him meet us out by the buses in twenty minutes,” I said.

  Jackson nodded. “Works for me.”

  After I sent the text, I went out to my tour bus to change. My shirt stuck to every inch of my chest. I decided a quick shower was in order. I jumped in and out in minutes and was pulling on a pair of jeans when there was a knock on my door. Who could that be?

  I pushed the button to open the door and was shocked to see Monty walk up the stairs.

  “What’s up?”

  He dropped onto the couch. “I have these songs running through my head.”

  Knowing Monty, his mind was running in circles a hundred miles an hour. “So that explains all the extra energy.”

  As our main songwriter, Monty had written such creative and unique pieces, it was good to see him ready to write again. “Think we can work on some of these while we’re on the road?”

  I squeezed the excess water out of my hair and tucked the wet strands behind my ear. “Want to stay in and work on it tonight?”

  He shook his head emphatically. “No. Tonight I want to relax and try to clear my head.” He stood and walked to the door. “Tomorrow we work.”

  “I can live with that.” I followed him down the stairs, pulling my hair into a low ponytail, and moved around the front where we found two cars waiting for us. “Let’s go get that drink.”

  We climbed into the backseat of the second car. Shockingly we were the first in. Jackson joined us a few minutes later.

  “Sawyer, Reagan, and Mari in the front car?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Reagan talked to his friend Marcus. He was more than happy to get everything set up in their VIP section for us.”

  I relaxed back into the seat, more than ready to enjoy the night. Expecting something a bit closer, I was surprised when it took us almost a half an hour to get there. For a place where we were guaranteed to not deal with a million fans, the drive was worth it. We’d been signing autographs for two months, for one night I wanted it to be just us.

  The moment we stepped out of the car, someone was there to lead us right to the VIP section. It didn’t give the crowd inside enough time to figure out who we were and that we were there in the first place. By the time I heard the whispers start, we’d almost reached the opening of the roped off area.

  The man who led us to the section spoke with Reagan before leaving again. Best guess he was the manager and not Reagan’s friend. He scurried off too quickly for that. I wasted no time dropping down onto the leather couch. Jackson took the seat next to me with Reagan and Sawyer sitting down across from us.

  “I want to dance. Anyone want to join me?” Monty waggled his brow at Mari, who laughed and nodded.

  “Sure, but I want a drink first.”

  Monty held out an arm and Mari hooked her hand through. “Then a drink you shall get.”

  He was full of it tonight. If we weren’t careful, he’d become a handful, but Mari knew that and she’d keep an eye on him while they were on the dance floor. In no time, they’d be surrounded and either enjoy the attention or get overwhelmed and head back to the roped off section. I had no plans to move my ass anytime soon. A waiter came over and took our drink order, giving me even less of a reason to get up.

  “What do you think of life on the road?” Jackson asked, aiming his gaze at Reagan.

  He laughed. “Much better than staying home waiting for you guys to get back.”

  “That PR tour sucked,” Sawyer groaned. “Some nights it felt like it would never end.”

  He reached out and twined his fingers with Reagan’s. It was good to see him so happy. Whether he’d admit it or not, Sawyer suffered while he hid his sexuality from everyone. As his roommate through college, I knew from the very beginning. He hadn’t been completely hiding then, but when we met I had a feeling he was still trying to figure out who he was. One very drunken night he’d told me about falling for his best friend. Imagine my surprise when years later Reagan showed up to confront him. Already a successful lawyer, he wanted to know why Sawyer had left. It took time, but eventually the secret came out. It helped bring him a sense of peace. You could see it in everything he did, even in the music he wrote. No longer moody, brooding music.

  The conversation continued around the hardship of being separated when a streak of blond in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I glanced over at the area across from us. A woman with strawberry blond hair midway down her back carried an empty tray in one hand and a menu in another. I tried to keep my head in the conversation, but I couldn’t help but watch the grace in each stride she took.

  “Heath? Hello, in there.”

  An elbow landed to my side.

  “What?” I snapped, grabbing my ribs.

  “You didn’t hear a damn thing we said.” Sawyer laughed, his gaze straying to the woman.

  Jackson shook his head. “Nope. Too busy watching the server.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, I—”

  Reagan smirked. “Yeah, you were. Just go talk to her.”

  “I don’t think so. The last thing I want on this tour is to get accused of sleeping with a different woman in every city.”

  Jackson quirked a brow. “Staying away from women for the entire tour? You’re crazy.”

  Sawyer nodded. “He’s right. You don’t need to be whoring around in every city, but there’s nothing wrong with noticing a beautiful woman and talking to her.”

  They probably had a point. But for the moment, I wasn’t interested in dealing with anyone. “Maybe. But not tonight. What were you talking about before?” I lifted the glass to my lips and forced myself to focus on the conversation instead of the strawberry blond woman who’d caught my attention.

  CHAPTER 2

  Heath

  “What the fuck? Are you a fucking moron?”

  My head snapped around to locate the source of the screaming. We’d been so engrossed in plans for the upcoming leg of our tour that I’d completely lost track of anything happening around me, exactly like I wanted. The waitress from earlier squatted next a man, using a towel to dry the wetness off his pants.

  “I’m so sorry…I’ve never…”

  He batted her hand away. “You incompetent idiot. I’ll make sure you’ll never serve another drink in this city again.”

  “Please, don’t. I said I was sorry.”

  Jackson, Reagan, Sawyer, and I were out of our seats in seconds.

  Sawyer was between the man and the waitress before I could get there. “You need to take a step back.”

  I squatted down next to her where she was now kneeli
ng on the floor with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking. I wrapped my arm around her. Thank God, Monty was dancing with Mari. Who knew what that idiot would have done.

  The man looked Sawyer up and down from head to toe. Disgust curled his lip. “And what is a piece of trash like you going to do? How the hell did you get a seat in this section? By selling drugs to the bouncer?”

  Sawyer took a step forward, but Reagan laid a hand on his arm and pulled him back. “Don’t. He’s not worth having your picture all over the tabloids.”

  The arrogant piece of shit scoffed. “I can’t imagine anyone but the cops giving a shit about a bunch of drug dealers standing up for a dumb bitch too stupid to carry a drink.”

  My feet were moving before I could think about the repercussions of my actions. I’d almost reached the guy, who’d taken a step back when he realized I actually might hit the smug bastard, when an arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me backward.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Jackson whispered in my ear.

  Slowly, my vision cleared and I noticed Reagan turning to head toward the stairs. Sawyer stood in front of the guy with his arms crossed over his chest. If I hadn’t been so pissed, it might have been comical. The little shit stood at least a few inches shorter, but a few pounds heavier if the beer belly was any indication, than Sawyer.

  My eyes darted back down to the waitress, only to get caught in her gaze. The emerald green staring back at me seemed confused and hurt all at the same time. I tried to take a step forward, only to have Jackson increase his hold. I put my hands up and glanced over my shoulder.

  “Let go of me.”

  His brows lifted over his gaze in an ‘are you crazy’ kind of way. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m fine, I promise. I just wanna check on her.” I gestured with my chin to the woman kneeling on the floor.

  Jackson watched me for a long moment before he nodded and released his grip. I made a beeline straight for her and reached out a hand to her. It took her a minute, but she hesitantly rested her palm in mine. With her one hand in mine, I wrapped the other around her waist and walked her back over to our table. When I tried to help her into the seat, she started shaking her head and backing away.