Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Eden Summers

  He grinned. “Bacon fixes everything.”

  Almost.

  “I was actually surprised to wake up before you.” He grabbed her hips, lifting her like she weighed nothing, and placed her on the counter. “Usually, I have women dragging me from sleep first thing in the morning. It annoys the hell out of me. On my days off, I don’t want to get out of bed until noon.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t disappoint.” She widened her legs, letting him settle against the V of her thighs. She needed his warmth. His nurturing. She needed all the affection she could get because once she returned home, she’d be back to the sterile single lifestyle. “I’m a champion at sleeping in. I just don’t get to do it often.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “So, you work nights but usually have to get up early. You also work with a lot of assholes…” He scratched a hand over the stubble etched across his jawline. “Are you a stripper? Maybe with a kid at home to wake you at the crack of dawn?”

  “Stripper? Wow. So close.” She slapped a hand against his inked chest and shoved. “Do I really look like I’ve housed an infant?”

  “I wouldn’t have said you had a body for stripping if you did.”

  She chuckled. “Well, thanks for the thinly veiled insult, but no, I’m not a stripper.”

  He went back to analyzing her, his intense focus sending a shiver down her spine that she tried to ignore.

  “OK, OK. Stop staring at me.” She couldn’t stand the scrutiny. She could feel him unraveling her secrets. Stealing her thoughts. Nobody should be in her head right now. She couldn’t stand to be there herself. “I’m a band manager.”

  His brows rose. “Impressive.”

  Understatement. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Do you manage anyone I would’ve heard?”

  It was her turn to scrutinize, to try and glimpse if he was the type of guy to contact tabloids with the tiny snippets of inside information she’d mentioned over the time they’d spent together. “Reckless Beat.”

  He balked, his shock pleasing her before a grin slowly spread across his luscious lips.

  “What?” She frowned at him. He made her nervous with every passing second he stared at her with humor brightening his features.

  “I’m shocked, and also bursting with a little male pride that you told me.” He approached, settling back between her legs. “You don’t trust easily, do you?”

  She scoffed. “I came to a foreign place, with a guy I barely know, all in an attempt to have mind-numbing sex. I’d say I trust rather well.”

  Her cell vibrated on the end of the counter—silent, yet deafening to her ears. There had been more messages this morning. More pleas for her return. She couldn’t ignore them anymore.

  “You knew the sex would be good.” Logan spoke softly, stealing back her attention.

  He kissed the side of her jaw, trailing brief, barely felt brushes of his lips all the way to her chin. It would’ve been heavenly. Would’ve felt natural. Only Ryan still lingered in her thoughts.

  He pulled back, staring down at her with a furrow in his brow. “The sex was good, but you’re not feeling it this morning either.”

  It was a statement, not a question.

  She broke eye contact, unwilling to batter his ego any more than she had last night.

  “You’re not up for it at all.” He held her chin in a delicate grip, demanding her concentration.

  For an intense second, she hated herself more than she ever had before. There was nothing wrong with this man. Everything about him, from his looks, to his dedication to pleasure, to the way he made her feel worthy, was entirely perfect. Yet, she could no longer see him through her need to get home.

  Not to a place. But to a group of people who had become her life.

  “You’re leaving.” Logan stepped back.

  Her shoulders slumped as she released all the breath in her lungs. “I need to.”

  “When?”

  She reached for her cell and pressed a button to illuminate the screen, ignoring the three text messages that had arrived in the last thirty minutes. “My flight leaves in four hours.”

  “Right.” His face crumpled.

  She tightened her legs around him. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  “I’m not.” His expression said otherwise. The once soft and endearing eyes were now harsh and unforgiving.

  “Then don’t sulk.”

  The side of his lips curved. “I’m trying really hard not to do that either.”

  She smiled, yet again enamored, this time by his honesty. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope you know that.”

  His lips faltered, the disappointment in his gaze hitting her harder than she could take.

  “Can I do one more thing for you?”

  She frowned. There was no sexual innuendo in his tone. No playfulness.

  “Two things,” he amended.

  “I guess…” The seriousness in his eyes ramped her pulse. “Depending on what those two things are.”

  “One—” he stole a piece of bacon from her plate and took a bite, “—let me take you to the airport.”

  She nodded. Even though he may not know it, Logan meant a lot to her. If they were both in different places, different stages of their lives, maybe things would’ve worked well between them. If only. “Done.”

  “And two—” He lowered to eye level, peering at her with ferocity. “—let me give you a tattoo.”

  Chapter Eight

  Leah rocked with the movement of the truck as Logan drove her to the airport. They’d already retrieved her belongings from the hotel, their time together filled with silence and contemplation. She stared at the hand in her lap. At the three tiny black birds with outstretched wings that marked the inside of her right middle finger, their beauty covered in clear plastic wrap.

  “Don’t worry, if you don’t like it, it’ll wear off soon enough. Finger tatts fade easily.”

  He’d told her that numerous times already, and all it did was fill her with disappointment. She didn’t want it to fade, not the tattoo or her memories of the last few days. Logan hadn’t indicated what the birds symbolized. However, she was sure they would both agree those wings stood for her, Logan, and Ryan. Maybe that was whimsy on her behalf. Logan probably meant it as himself, Cole, and her. But she’d never see them that way.

  “I love it,” she murmured, still staring at the black ink. It truly was beautiful, in style and simplicity.

  The truck slowed, and she raised her gaze to the airport parking lot. Her stomach hollowed. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Logan had crawled his way under her skin, had tattooed himself on her finger, and inside her heart. She cared for him. Nowhere near as much as Ryan, but the regret over walking away was already eating at her.

  In silence, Logan found a parking space and cut the ignition. She could feel his stare on her, could almost see it in her periphery. His hand covered hers on the bench seat, his gentle palm gliding over her knuckles. She held her breath as he delicately squeezed her fingers, then lifted her hand to his lips.

  There were no words, only his kiss and the pain that it brought. Her veins burned, a thousand tiny pins and needles piercing from her fingertips right up to her shoulder.

  “Are you going to go after your guy?” he spoke against her skin.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  For the first time in days, she acknowledged that Ryan wasn’t her biggest problem. Her life was.

  “Do you know why I escaped to Vegas?” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, hating the disappointment that stared back at her.

  He shrugged and lowered her hand to the seat.

  “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” The truth stung her throat. “Apart from the band members and their significant others, I don’t have anyone.” She slid her fingers out from beneath his and sat her hand in her lap. “I was never close with my family. My drive to succeed pushed everyone away. And ever since I shoved
my foot inside the entertainment industry door, I haven’t taken a breath. I’ve continuously strived for bigger and better, never stopping or accepting that a single moment couldn’t have been improved somehow.”

  “You’ve worked hard for your achievements.”

  She nodded. Yes, success was firmly under her belt, only there wasn’t much else. “I’ve stripped my dignity bare for these guys. I fought for every single gig and interview when they were first starting out. And there’s no doubt in my mind my hard work has largely attributed to their success.” If Mason chose to deny it, she’d gladly sit him down for an in-depth discussion on his naivety. “But while I spent every waking moment dedicating my time to the band, I lost my own life. I stopped going to the gym with friends. I rejected every offer to go to the movies, or out for drinks until the invitations stopped coming.”

  She had nothing anymore. Nothing but Reckless Beat.

  “I need to get my life back.” To start breathing for herself instead of for someone else. To have a to-do list littered with her own personal tasks, like reading a book, or catching up with old friends. She needed to find something outside of Reckless, because the fear of losing them hovered at the edge of her mind. If they ever did part ways, she’d have nothing to fall back on. Not one measly regular task she could do without them. Her life would be desolate. Entirely devoid of anything worthwhile.

  “Although, you welcomed me more kindly than I could’ve expected—” She looked at Logan, yet again wishing things between them were different. That her life could involve his gorgeous smile and inked skin. “—it’s depressing and confronting that I’ve deteriorated to this point, and how I didn’t even notice until now.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, it was an honor that you came to me.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for pretending this didn’t turn into a complete disaster.”

  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and the offer to come back will always be on the table.” He reached out, running his strong fingers through her hair. “But you’re not coming back, are you?”

  To Vegas? Maybe. But would she return to Logan’s bed? “No.”

  She adored him, and there was no doubt he would one day make some random woman extremely happy—most probably goth-girl—but that place in his heart wasn’t reserved for her. “I won’t darken your doorstep again. This is it for us.”

  She nestled her cheek into the warmth of his palm, and didn’t retreat when he leaned in to her. His mouth brushed hers, a gentle contrast from his devilish persona.

  “A long time ago, I promised I’d ruin you for all other men if we ever slept together,” he whispered against her lips. “My biggest regret from last night was that I failed.”

  She closed her eyes, fighting away overbearing remorse. “I was already ruined before I arrived.”

  He nodded, rubbing his forehead against hers. “I assumed as much.”

  Emotion overwhelmed her, dragging her into darkness, making her want to scream. “I’ve gotta go.” She pressed her mouth to his. A final kiss. A silent farewell. “Don’t get out. I can grab my suitcase by myself.” Her heart broke as she pulled away and unlocked her belt. She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. “Bye, Logan.”

  “Bye, gorgeous.”

  She shoved open the truck door, hitching her handbag strap over her shoulder. She grabbed her luggage from the bed of the truck, yanked up the pull handle, and strode for the airport. Not once glancing over her shoulder at the man she would never see again.

  She glared through her blurring vision, fighting the weakness away. With each step the determination in her stride became more potent. There was no more room for weakness. She was Leah fucking Gorman, and it was time to steal her life back.

  Chapter Nine

  Her heels clicked as she made her way into her apartment complex elevator. The five-hour flight had been relaxing. Yes, relaxing. A word she hadn’t associated with herself for years.

  After messaging Gabi to inform her of an early evening return, Leah had turned off her phone, purchased a book from the airport lounge, and sank into a juicy romantic suspense novel. She spent hours succumbing to story-numbing bliss. And for once, she was disappointed her flight arrived on time.

  “Hold the elevator.”

  The well-known masculine voice made her pause, her finger poised over the button to level five, as Mason strode in beside her.

  “Thank fuck you’re back.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. “I’m never going to let you go again.”

  “Mason!” She wiggled in his tightening grip, trying to ignore the way his face nuzzled its way into her neck. “Put me down.”

  He shook his head, squeezing tighter. “Never. Letting. You. Go.”

  She rammed the heel of her palms into his chest, demanding escape, and glared up at him once her stiletto heels touched the floor. Her frustration wavered every second he smirked back at her, until she couldn’t contain the smile tugging at her lips.

  “You missed me, didn’t you?” He waggled his brows.

  “With every breath.” She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the truth in her words as she pressed the button to her floor. She had missed him. All of the Reckless men and women. And the more she stared at him, the happier she was to be home.

  “I knew it.” He yanked her off the floor again, twirling her in the small space as the elevator doors closed. “Fuck, we missed you.”

  “I was only gone a few days.” She couldn’t hold in her laughter. Even severe exhaustion couldn’t tamper her excitement at finally being home—in the arms of a man she considered family.

  “Yeah.” He placed her down and tugged her to his side. “But that replacement of yours made it feel like a lifetime of torture in hell.”

  She grinned to herself. “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve finally realized my value.”

  “Realized and will never forget.”

  She turned to him with a raised brow.

  “OK.” He held up a hand. “We both know I’ll forget in a month or two, so make sure you enjoy my appreciation while you can.”

  A chuckle escaped her lips. Yep, that was Mason Lynch—rarely did he stroke someone else’s ego.

  “So why are you here?” She stared at his reflection in the stainless steel doors.

  “We wanted to see you.”

  “We?” The elevator dinged their arrival, and she lost all hope for an early night when Mason waggled his brows.

  “Come on.”

  He shoved the doors open and dragged her suitcase into the hall. A hall currently crammed with people.

  Jesus Christ. “What are you all doing here?” The familiar faces were banked up outside her apartment door—Sean, Blake, Mitch, and their significant others. She feared Ryan would be somewhere among them, too, but she couldn’t see him through the mass of bodies.

  “We needed to make sure you were all right. And that you didn’t get yourself in trouble.” Blake grinned. “But by the looks of that hickie on your neck, I’d say you got mixed up in a great deal of mischief.”

  Leah’s hand flew to her neck.

  “Other side, sweetheart,” Mitch drawled.

  Pressure invaded her chest, their scrutiny heating her cheeks, but it didn’t compare with the sinking feeling in her stomach as Ryan pushed from the wall behind Sean and met her gaze. His stony stare was lethal, in vast contrast to the lack of expression on his face.

  “It’s just a scratch,” she lied, breaking eye contact.

  “Sure it is.” Sean chuckled. “Now are you going to open up and let us in, or do we get to stand out here all night?”

  “Excuse me if I don’t welcome you with open arms.” Leah dug through her handbag for her keys. “I thought you would’ve gotten the hint I didn’t want to see you from my lack of communication.”

  Sean caught the ring of keys she flung his way and grinned. “You can’t pretend you don’t love us. We all know better.”

  She wasn’t su
re why his words filled her with happiness, but they did. Sometimes it felt like she was their mother, not their manager. She was always growling, or pulling out her hair in frustration over their antics. It comforted her to know they could see through her role and understand how much they meant to her…even though she went to a great deal of effort to act like a hard ass.

  Sean unlocked her apartment and held the door wide for everyone to enter. As usual, her chosen family made themselves at home. Her place was theirs, and theirs was always hers. It was the way they’d been, for as long as she could remember.

  “Wine?” Alana held up a bottle with a smile.

  “No, thanks.” Leah dumped her bag on the kitchen counter, watching as everyone else slumped onto her sofa or pulled out chairs at her dining room table. Ryan was the last to enter the open living area, his gaze focused on her even though his head was low.

  “On second thought…” she turned to Alana with a fake smile. “I’d love one.”

  Alana glanced from Ryan to Leah, an unmistakable flicker of knowing flashing in her eyes as she nodded. “Coming right up.”

  “We didn’t mean to crash in on you.” Mason’s fiancé, Sidney, came to her side. “I think everyone wanted to come over to see for themselves that you were all right.”

  “No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” she amended. She planned on taking her time to discuss what she’d realized in Vegas, but now was as good a time as any. “I actually have something important I want to discuss with you all.”

  The quiet voices of mingled conversation stopped and all the attention in the room fell on her. The men were hovering around her sofa, while the women came to stand around the kitchen counter.

  “Yeah?” Mason frowned. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry for taking off.” She grasped the wine glass Alana slid toward her, thankful to have something between her fingers to stop the jitters.

  “I don’t blame you.” Blake winked at her. “If Ryan kissed me, I’d do a runner, too.”

  There were a few chuckles, a giggle, and a snicker, none of them coming from Ryan, who leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.