I Need You Tonight

by Stina Lindenblatt

  I hadn’t seen either of them in three years, after they made it clear I was no longer welcome in the family and I finally moved on.

  They hadn’t left me much choice.

  Nicole slid me a quick glance, and I had to look away before the sadness in her eyes gutted me. “That’s too bad. I don’t know what I would’ve done without my brother.”

  I expected her to explain, but she returned her attention to the movie and sipped her wine.

  “Oh, I love this part,” she said a short time later as Bruce Willis crawled under a conference room table to get away from a bad guy who was walking on top of it, machine gun in hand.

  The man arrived at the end of the table and aimed the gun at where he assumed Bruce was located. “Next time you have a chance to kill someone, don’t hesitate.”

  Before the bad guy could fire a round of bullets into the table, Bruce shot up through the wood, killing the man, and then thanked him for the advice.

  Nicole laughed. “That’s what I love about this movie. Everyone is trying to kill Bruce Willis and he can still be funny.”

  I had to admit that was one of the reasons I loved it too. The explosions and the feds looking like a bunch of dumbasses didn’t hurt either.

  We finally got to the part where Bruce was in the bathroom, talking on the walkie-talkie to Al the cop, who was outside the building with the FBI and police. Bruce’s feet had been cut beyond belief and he had a bad feeling things weren’t going to end well. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to a punk like me,” he said in obvious pain—pain from the wound and pain from suspecting he would never see his wife again. It reminded me how my family had seen me as nothing more than a dumbass punk who had done nothing but screw up. But unlike with Bruce’s wife, I couldn’t see them ever forgiving me. The worst Bruce had done was put his career before hers.

  Nicole hung on his every word, and I could see clearly in her eyes what she was thinking as Bruce told Al what he wanted him to tell Bruce’s wife when everything was over. Nicole thought it was super romantic how he admitted that he should’ve been more supportive of her career. I could almost hear her sigh. But it wasn’t until the end of the movie that she teared up. It was the scene where Bruce was meeting Al for the first time.

  She brushed the tears from her face and gave a small chuckle. “You probably think I’m lame for crying.”

  “No, not lame at all,” I said, voice low. Tears glistened on her eyelashes and in her eyes, but humor was also there, challenging me to say something.

  And that wasn’t the only thing there. Lust and need flirted at the edges. My gaze dropped to her lips, and a sudden urge to kiss her took over.

  I shook it off and practically leapt off the couch. “Well, I should be getting back to L.A.”

  “I have a spare room. You’re welcome to stay there tonight. It’s nothing much, but it will save you from having to drive all that way in the dark.” She looked so earnest—and completely uninterested in me in the way that my body was interested in her.

  “Are you sure?”

  She pushed herself off the couch. “Of course. And you know if Zack was here, he would insist on it too.”

  That was probably true, but for different reasons.

  Nicole led me upstairs to a small room that didn’t look much different from the rest of the house when it came to the era it had originated in—except this room had obviously belonged to a teenage girl. The carpet was Pepto-Bismol pink, with matching floral wallpaper on one wall. Strips of paper had been torn away—the work of Zack, no doubt. Like me, there was no way he would’ve fit on the couch downstairs. Which meant he had stayed in this room.

  Going insane.

  “It’s very…um…,” I started to say.

  “Pink?” Nicole laughed. “Yep, that’s the exact same face Zack makes every time he stays here. I’m almost considering leaving it as is, just because he loves it so much.”

  “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.” Like he would appreciate a lobotomy…without anesthesia.

  Nicole laughed harder. “Anyway, the bathroom is across the hallway. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  Before I could thank her, she was out the door—leaving me to wonder how I’d gone from a wedding with no possibility of getting laid to spending the night in Pepto-Bismol land.

  Chapter 4

  Mason

  The next morning I opened my eyes to find myself in a bedroom that wasn’t mine, with morning wood that rivaled any I’d ever had. Light sneaked through the blinds, creating a striped pattern on the floral bedding—which, thank God, wasn’t the same nauseating pink as on the wall and floor.

  Memories of Zack’s sister looking as hot as hell in her panda pajamas sneaked into my head, as did the memory of wanting to kiss her—neither of which offered any relief from my current below-the-waist situation.

  I climbed out from under the covers, quickly dressed, and went downstairs. In the living room I retrieved my phone and checked my messages. Kirk had texted me to ask where I’d bailed to last night, since I’d said goodbye to Aaron and Tomas but no one else. Kirk had been busy with Beckie when I left, Nolan had been preoccupied with Hailey…and I could hazard a guess where Jared and Callie had disappeared to.

  Not wanting to explain about last night, I simply replied, Visiting a friend.

  Zack had also sent me a text: Thanks for checking on Nicole.

  You’re welcome, I typed, and hit send. I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed for Nicole’s kitchen.

  Suddenly in the mood to cook, something I didn’t get to do enough of while touring, I rummaged through her fridge. Normally I wouldn’t make breakfast for a one-night stand. I was more like the screw-’em-and-bail type. But since Nicole and I hadn’t fucked, I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have an issue with me making us breakfast.

  Besides, my stomach was doing its impression of a starving grizzly bear, and I had no idea how long Nicole would sleep.

  I removed cheddar cheese, eggs, asparagus, mushrooms, and red peppers from the fridge and placed them on the counter. Then I started the coffeemaker and began chopping the vegetables for the omelet. My phone pinged. Kirk had responded to my text. You’ll be back in time for the tour, right?

  Of course.

  For the past several years I’d been busy with the band, touring, recording our first two albums, then promoting them. There hadn’t been enough time to recover before the cycle started again. I needed a brief break from being a “rock star.” I needed a brief break from the groupies and tabloids and L.A.

  Even if it was just for one day, I needed to be a regular person—something I hadn’t been in what felt like a lifetime.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee and got to work on the omelet. The water from the tap drip-drip-dripped in the sink.

  While I ate my breakfast, I whipped up an omelet for Nicole, then hunted around for tools to fix the sink.

  Chapter 5

  Nicole

  I woke with a start…from a very erotic dream. Damn it. Why couldn’t I have at least stayed asleep for five more minutes? I’d just been getting to the good part—with Mason. My brother’s friend. Who by now was driving back to L.A.

  I groaned, although that might’ve had more to do with the wine-induced pounding in my head than with how I’d been dreaming about screwing someone I shouldn’t.

  But I guess what my brother didn’t know…

  In desperate need of caffeine before walking Bernie, I scooted out of bed. At least I could start the coffee, then have a shower while I waited for my caffeine fix to perk.

  When I got downstairs I was greeted by the happy scent of coffee and something that smelled delicious. Exactly what my stomach had requested.

  That wasn’t the only thing that greeted me when I entered the kitchen. A pair of jean-clad legs were sticking out from under my sink. The open door obscured the body, but the bare brown feet gave the owner away.

  I walked over to Mason and peered down at him.
He had a wrench in his hand and was tightening or loosening something.

  I crouched beside him to get a better look. “Is there a reason why you’re under my sink?”

  “Your tap was dripping.”

  “So you thought you’d fix it?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Are you a plumber?”

  “No, but it really wasn’t all that hard.”

  For him, maybe.

  “I made you an omelet,” the man still under my sink said. “It’s on the table.”

  “Wow, you made me breakfast and fixed my sink. Mason, how is it you’re still single?” I laughed. Then a thought leaked in. “Are you single? Or do you have a girlfriend waiting for you to get back home?” Waiting for him to make her breakfast in bed.

  We’d been so busy watching the movie last night, we hadn’t bothered to talk about our lives—other than my bad luck when it came to dating.

  “Yes, I’m single. I like my freedom too much to settle down.” He pushed himself out of the enclosed space, somehow managing to avoid hitting his head. “There you go. The sink’s fixed.”

  I wondered if it would be too much to throw my arms around him and hug him. The dripping had been driving me nuts. But other than paying a lot of money to hire a plumber, I’d had no idea how to fix it.

  Instead of hugging him, I settled on saying thanks, then walked to the table and removed the plate covering the omelet. The food looked as delicious as it smelled, with the sautéed vegetables spilling out, along with a healthy dose of cheese oozing from the edges.

  “You really made this?” No, dummy! A bunch of elves whipped it up during the night while we were sleeping. I took a bite and almost died on the spot. “Mmm,” I said around a mouthful. I swallowed it down. “This is amazing.”

  “Thanks!” He turned the hot water on and washed his hands. “I was just thinking how I don’t have to rush back to L.A. just yet, and there are a few things around here I could fix before I go. Like the hallway light, for one.”

  I stood there stunned for a moment. “You don’t have to do that, Mason,” I finally managed.

  A smile danced across his lips. “I know, but I really don’t mind. I kind of like fixing things. I’m handy that way.”

  “Sure, if you really want to.” Who was I to stop a guy who wanted to make my life a little easier?

  I finished the omelet and loaded the plate into the dishwasher. “My neighbor had to go to L.A. for a couple of days, and I promised her I’d walk her dog. I won’t be long.”

  A lazy smile grew on Mason’s face. “I’ll help. I’ve always wanted a dog, but can’t have one because I’m on the road a lot.”

  “All right.” I hoped Bernie wasn’t too upset because Beatrice was gone. The last time she’d gone away, he’d destroyed one of her sofa cushions. “I’ll just have a quick shower first.”

  I hurried upstairs. A few minutes later I was showered, dressed, and ready to walk Bernie.

  “Do you guys have a mall or something down here?” Mason asked, coming downstairs after finishing with his own shower. “I wouldn’t mind picking up a couple of T-shirts. I don’t usually get much of a chance to shop.”

  “There’s a small shopping center near here that will probably have what you’re looking for.”

  The temperature was warm enough for me to wear my favorite white lacy dress, the hem brushing several inches above my knees. I added my short cowboy boots and a light denim jacket. My hair lay loose around my shoulders. If I could’ve dressed like this for my date last night, I would’ve at least been happy. More so than I had been in the black dress and stilettos.

  I grabbed Beatrice’s key from the kitchen counter, and Mason and I headed over to her house. “Bernie comes off as scarier than he really is,” I said, unlocking the front door. “He’s nothing more than an overgrown baby. The only danger is of being drooled on.” I opened the door and entered, Mason right behind me.

  “Hey, Bernie,” I called out. “It’s Nicole. Your mommy wanted me to take you for a walk.” A deep woof came from the direction of the living room. A moment later, the giant English mastiff lumbered into the hallway. His short fur was golden, his black face a mass of wrinkles. Drool dangled from one side of his mouth.

  “Holy shit,” Mason said. “What the hell is that?”

  Bernie didn’t take offense at Mason’s language. He leaned against me, waiting for me to fuss over him like I always did. He really was a big baby.

  “Bernie, this is my friend Mason.”

  That was met by another woof.

  “We’re gonna walk you,” I told him.

  “Or ride him,” Mason suggested, his expression a cross between shock and amusement as he eyed the massive dog.

  “He’s just kidding,” I told the dog as I rubbed my hand along his body. He leaned more into me, coming close to knocking me over. I glanced up at Mason. “I’m guessing this isn’t the type of dog you wanted.”

  “I would love to have a big dog—just not this big. I was thinking more like Lab-sized, not monster-sized.” The shock on his face had given way to a smirk.

  I crouched in front of Bernie and hugged his thick neck. “You’re not a monster, are you?”

  The answering woof almost deafened me.

  I retrieved his leash from the hall closet and attached it to his collar. Then the three of us walked down the street at Bernie’s slow pace.

  Giant palm trees reached toward the clear blue sky on either side of the residential street. Ahead of us, the low desert mountain range stretched for as far as I could see, beckoning me to be more adventurous, calling me to explore it.

  And I would’ve been adventurous if I wasn’t so busy. My big adventure in life was the boutique—not quite what I had envisioned back in college. Then I had planned to travel the world after graduation, to visit the countries my mother had always longed to see.

  “So you know what I do for a living,” I said as a car drove past. “What do you do back in L.A.?”

  “This and that.”

  “So you’re unemployed?”

  “Not exactly. I’m a musician.”

  So, basically, unemployed. “Oh. What instrument do you play?”

  Bernie let out a thundering bark, preventing Mason from answering my question. Heading toward us was one of Bernie’s friends, a cocker spaniel named Elis. The teenager who was walking him stared at Mason, eyes wide. That didn’t surprise me. The man was incredibly hot, after all. What girl wouldn’t be staring?

  Bernie stopped to sniff his friend’s butt.

  “Hi, Amy,” I said to Elis’s owner.

  She was too busy gaping at Mason to answer. Way to be obvious, Amy.

  “Amy, this is Mason,” I said. Only then did she finally notice me, her gaze flicking in my direction.

  “I didn’t know you were dating Mason Dell,” she said to me. Then her gaze switched back to Mason.

  Okay, that was weird.

  “We’re not dating. He’s a friend of my brother’s,” I clarified, then looked quizzically up at Mason, waiting for him to explain why the sixteen-year-old thought she knew him.

  “Do you know the rest of the guys in the band or just Mason?” she asked me.

  “Band?”

  “You know, Pushing Limits? One of the best rock bands around. All the guys are super hot, but Nolan Kincaid, their lead singer, is engaged, and Jared Leigh just got married, so they’re no longer available.” She didn’t take a single breath during that, her words coming faster than a cougar chasing down his dinner.

  “Technically, Nolan isn’t engaged,” Mason said, “but he and Hailey are serious, so he’s still unavailable.”

  My head spun around to him so fast, I was surprised I didn’t get whiplash. “You…you mean you’re really that Mason Dell?”

  Amy grunted, as if to say, Of course he is. Who did you think he was? I ignored her.

  Mason nodded.

  “How could you not know he’s the drummer for Pushing Limits?” Amy as
ked, her tone indicating that she thought I was an oblivious idiot. I was beginning to feel like one.

  “I don’t listen to rock music. I prefer country.” And my brother had never mentioned it.

  That got another noise out of her, which I chose not to translate.

  Deciding the walk was over for the day, Bernie lay down on the sidewalk. I was surprised the ground didn’t tremble as he flopped down. He had to easily outweigh even Mason. Elis barked at his friend, maybe to tell him that he was a lazy goof.

  “Can I have your autograph?” Amy asked Mason, ignoring the two dogs.

  He nodded. “Sure. You have anything to write on?”

  It wasn’t like she had a purse on her. She looked at me.

  “Sorry, I don’t have anything.” Other than the empty doggy poop bags, and I didn’t think that would help her.

  “Do you know where Nicole lives?” he asked.

  She did because she had occasionally walked past my house with Elis. Although after today, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she walked past my house on a daily basis, just to see if Mason and the rest of the band were there—especially after Mason told her to swing by in an hour with something for him to sign. In truth, it was the only way to get rid of her. I had a feeling she would have otherwise joined us on the walk, and that was the last thing I wanted. Not when I had questions for Mason—the first of which being why he hadn’t told me from the start who he was.

  Because what difference does it make if he’s the drummer of a famous rock band, when all we were doing was eating ice cream and watching a movie last night?

  After Amy and Elis trotted off, I tugged on Bernie’s leash, hinting that we should get moving again. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually heaved himself onto all fours.

  “So when were you going to tell me you’re a rock star?” I asked Mason as we started walking.

  “I did tell you.”

  Right. I gave him a look that said as much. “You told me you’re a musician. Being a musician doesn’t mean you’re a rock star.”

  “Exactly. And I wouldn’t say I’m a rock star. Jon Bon Jovi? He’s a rock star. Our band has two albums out.”