Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Eden Summers

  She looked him head on and would’ve tried to deny it if she could muster conviction. Alas, she was clearly lacking her usual feminine wiles. Instead, she raised her chin and sucked in a breath through her nose, flaring her nostrils.

  “What’s the big deal?” he continued. “Are you scared of being happy? ’Cause, believe me, I get it.”

  No, he didn’t. He didn’t realize this was about him. And Blake. And Mitch. And Sean. They were all the reasons why she couldn’t be with Ryan. “I’m not going to ask you again.” He didn’t understand that losing her position was only devastating because in turn she’d lose her Reckless family. She didn’t have a life outside the band. Without them, she had nothing.

  “And I’m not going to let your contractual obligation bullshit fly anymore.”

  Too far. Way too far. He skipped straight past the mildly annoying status and hit the detonator for full-scale war.

  “Contractual obligations bullshit?” She stepped forward and slapped his spread knees together. “I have a black and white document that stipulates I can’t have any sort of sexual relationship, casual or otherwise, with any of my clients. It states in precise terms that I’ll be fired, without warning, and I’ve seen it happen. That’s not bullshit.”

  “We could get around it.”

  “How?” God damn, she hated his smug superiority. “You’re not as almighty as you think you are, Mason. I thought you would’ve learned from the complete lack of control you have in the Grander situation.”

  “That’s different.”

  “You’re so naïve.” Incredulity slid through her veins, through every inch of her body. “How is it different?”

  “Because love prevails. Etcetera, etcetera.”

  “Of course.” She waved a hand in the air. “Just like that, my troubles would melt away, all in the name of love.”

  “You know Ryan would do anything for a chance with you.”

  “Do I? He’s not even divorced yet. And to me, it already looks like his ticket is full.” She hiked a finger over her shoulder. “Do I need to show you the video again? Or tell you how I caught him taking those women to his room when we were in Atlanta?”

  “You’re not stupid, Leah. You know he feels something for you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have wasted years of your life pining over him.”

  She wanted to deny him, to announce he was entirely wrong and needed to grow up. But as much as she hated admitting it, he was right. She hadn’t been able to get Ryan off her mind for all these years because there had always been a reciprocated affection in his eyes. There’d always been a hopeful spark even though he never acted upon it.

  “I know you’re worried about keeping your position as our manager, but trust me, it’s gotta work itself out. The five of us are here to look out for you if shit goes south.”

  There was no ‘if’ involved. There would be problems. Big ones. But her thoughts brushed over them, the slightest nudge of possibility edging its way into her consciousness after so long denying her fantasies. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “Talk. That’s all it takes.”

  “And say what?”

  “Tell him how you feel and see where it leads.” He sat and pushed from the bed. “Come on. I’ll escort you to his room.”

  “I don’t need an escort.”

  “Then let me rephrase—please allow me to walk you to his door because you sure as shit will chicken out if I don’t.”

  Not true…OK, maybe he had a point.

  Her steps were cautious as she made her way to the door and retrieved her room key from the holder. Excitement and apprehension waged war inside her chest, both fighting for supremacy.

  “You might want to do up your buttons.” His gaze raked her body, from her face to her toes. “Unless that’s the look you’re going for. The skin show isn’t doing any harm, that’s for sure.”

  Shit. She clutched at her gaping blouse and cringed. She was shoeless and wearing crumpled pants, her make-up would be faded, too, and her hair a mess. All she needed was a belly rounded from pregnancy and she’d be a redneck’s ultimate fantasy.

  “I need to freshen up.” She turned, prepared to postpone her stupidity and was yanked into Mason’s side with a firm hand.

  “Nope.” He kept pulling her down the hall. “You’ve come this far. You’re not going back.”

  “I’ve walked two steps outside my hotel door.”

  “Yep, and it’s good enough for me.”

  Christ. This wasn’t going to end well. The least he could do is allow her to look pretty when her life turned to shit. “You’re not the most trustworthy person, Mason.” She rebuttoned her blouse, keeping up with his steady pace. “I’m going to regret listening to you.”

  He met her gaze, his seriousness unsettling. “In this, I wouldn’t steer you wrong. There’s no Reckless without you. Just like there’s no band without Blake if we need to extend the tour. We’re a team, and once and for all we want to see the two of you together.”

  “That was awfully sentimental.”

  “I know.” He screwed up his face. “I think I vomited a little in my mouth.”

  She laughed, but the humor didn’t settle inside her. She was too anxious. Too nervous and apprehensive and hopeful. The overwhelming sensations only intensified on the elevator ride to Ryan’s floor, each step toward his door a battle not to vomit.

  Mason knocked hard below the room number and backed away. “My work here is done.”

  “What?” She grabbed his arm. “You can’t leave me now.”

  “You expect me to hold your hand?”

  She glared. No. She was Leah freakin’ Gorman. But in this she needed something. Anything to stop her from running. “Please, Mason.”

  He sighed and gave a dramatic eye roll. “Fine, I’ll help you out, as long as you know you owe me.”

  “I know,” she muttered. And there was no way he’d let her forget.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan watched Hannah and Felicity joke around in his hotel kitchen. Since the secret of their relationship had come to light, the women hadn’t taken their hands off each other. They were always kissing or stroking or shirt-pulling. They were an extended version of puppy love he admired the shit out of. And every minute he spent with them was another minute where his loathing for Grander increased. He didn’t know how anyone could begrudge their connection. It was archaic, and yet another reason why he was glad Reckless was cutting ties with them after this tour.

  Accepting homosexuality wasn’t enough, not when gay artists were judged for their sexual preference before being praised for their talent. But change wouldn’t happen in Ryan’s lifetime. Not when companies like Grander were controlling the industry.

  “What’s wrong?” Felicity sauntered from the kitchen, eying him with concern.

  “Nothin’, why?”

  “You were staring into space with a disappointed look on your face.”

  “I was wondering how I didn’t pick up on the gay vibe. It should’ve been a clear sign when you weren’t interested in all this.” He indicated his lazy sprawl on the floor with a wave of his hand.

  “Come on.” Hannah laughed. “The name of her band is S…licker, as in, slit licker.”

  “Oh.” He exaggerated the epiphany with an eye-roll. “Now it all makes sense.”

  “And her nickname is Flick, like flicking the bean…or mine, to be more precise.”

  “Nice visual.”

  Felicity waggled her brows. “Feel free to watch any time.”

  “I’m good.” He chuckled. “And what about your drummer and lead guitarist? Do Carl and Trent know?”

  “Yeah, they know, and they’re supportive. But our relationship is like a noose around their neck. Which is another reason not to rock the boat with the powers that be.”

  Both women adopted a somber expression, the weight of guilt clearly visible in their eyes. Ryan didn’t know the men of Slicker. He’d barely spoken more than a few words with them, an
d still he didn’t envy their shitty situation. Getting a big break in the music industry while also being at the mercy of a homophobic record label wasn’t the best start to a career. “How did the two of you meet?”

  Hannah came to stand in front of the sofa, peering down at him. “In a candy store on the outskirts of Dallas—”

  “Han was reaching for the last packet of Pixie Stix—”

  “A nasty fight ensued—”

  “Really?” He wondered if they knew how cute it was to listen to them finish each other’s sentences.

  “No. Not really.” Hannah winked. “I wasn’t looking as I grabbed for the packet and our hands brushed.”

  “I told her to take it because it was only for my brother, but she insisted it was mine, even though I later found out she has a stubborn addiction to the stuff.”

  “An addiction to Pixie Stix?” He raised his brows. “That’s hardcore.”

  “You better believe it.” Hannah reached for her pants pocket and pulled out a straw-like, cylindrical tube. “I can’t afford to pay the rent some weeks, but I’ve always got one of these with me.”

  Felicity placed a smacking kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. “She’d snort the stuff if she could.”

  Ryan reached up, took the straw from her hand and inspected the candy he hadn’t seen since his childhood. “I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

  Hannah smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

  “You want me to snort this?”

  “Why not?” She grabbed it from his hand, ripped open the top, and maintained a mischievous grin as she tipped the contents onto the table. “How can I cut it?”

  These women were crazy, and the best relief he could possibly have from all the fucked up shit he was trying to ignore. “Allow me.” He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a credit card.

  As he cut the powder into lines she shuffled around the table and descended, making herself at home in his lap. There was nothing sexual about it. He didn’t have the right appendages to make her happy. He knew, because she hadn’t been shy in mentioning it over and over and over again.

  There was a knock at the door as he wove his arm around her waist, enjoying the connection no matter how platonic.

  “I’ll get it.” Felicity made for the door.

  “I’m not sharing my haul with any more people,” Hannah called.

  Felicity snickered as she pulled the door wide, exposing Leah. The important parts of him responded, his lips curved into a smile, his chest thumped, and his dick slid from hibernation, too.

  “Is Ryan…”

  Her sweet question vanished under an expression of horror. Mason came into view at her side, the both of them focusing on the woman between his legs, then the white powder on the table.

  “Oh, shit,” Mason whispered, stepping inside.

  Shit was right. He’d never seen that look on Leah’s face before, the one pinning him with anguish. Hannah’s continuous laughter didn’t help either, or Felicity’s snort.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Leah backtracked, her gaze still darting between the misleading evidence before she fled from view.

  “Damn it.” He grabbed Hannah’s hips and lifted her off his lap. Then he was jogging for the hall. “Wait.”

  Mason’s hand slammed into his sternum, stopping him at the door. “Drugs, really?”

  “No, dickhead. It’s sugar from a Pixie Stix. We were fooling around.” He shoved the hand away and continued after Leah. “Hold up.”

  She was already half way down the hall, her legs pounding out the distance, her posture lethal. “Not now, Ryan.”

  There was an edge to her tone. Not anger or frustration. It was something far worse, and he was the culprit.

  She turned sharply and disappeared through a metal door—the stairwell entry. The heavy barrier closed between them by the time he got there and he shoved through to see her descending to the lower platform.

  “You’ve got the wrong impression.” He tried to back it up with a chuckle but all it achieved was a narrowed scowl as she continued to descend the opposite staircase. “It wasn’t drugs. You know me better than that.”

  She didn’t reply. Didn’t acknowledge his presence.

  He jumped three stairs at a time, over and over, until he caught up to her at the lower landing. “Hear me out.” He slid in front of her, blocking her path to another staircase. “It wasn’t drugs. It was powered sugar.”

  “Whatever you say.” She was shaking as her gaze met his—her arms, her legs, her beautiful lips.

  “Whatever I say?” They’d been best friends for years. They’d shared everything. She’d become his everything. And after months of ignoring him, she’d lost her trust, too? Something snapped inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was his mental stability or his patience, but he lost his shit in a blink of an eye. “Now you think I’m a liar?”

  “I can’t be near you like this.” She held up her hands and made to walk around him.

  He gave a harsh laugh. “That makes a great change from the disappearing act you’ve been playing for a week now.”

  “I was giving you space,” she grated. “You didn’t want my help with this charade, remember? You kept shoving me away.”

  “Because I didn’t want you seeing me with another woman.” Jesus, how could she not see that? After all this time, how could she have misinterpreted his intentions? “My life has been circling the god damn drain, but all I’ve needed is you. I had to get through it on my own.”

  Her jaw ticked, his unmistakable Wonder Woman preparing for battle. “And if I had been there, I would’ve kicked your ass for all the shit you’re pulling.”

  “And what shit is that?”

  “You’re always late to rehearsals. The guys say you’re drinking all the time. You almost had a god damn three-way on the stage last night, and now this.” Her voice cracked and her responding wince hit him in the chest. “Everything is escalating. Soon you’ll go too far. Further than anyone can drag you back from.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled his frustration into check and softened his voice. “I’ve been late two or three times and it’s always because of my lawyer. Julie has stalled negotiations and wants me back in New York for a face-to-face meeting. I’m doing my best to ignore her and let my legal team handle it.”

  “Why?” Concern furrowed her brow. “What does she want?”

  Apart from his soul? “I don’t know, and I don’t give a damn.” He grabbed the railing and gazed down. “And yes, I’ve been drinking more than usual.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, those gorgeous depths placing an invisible hold on him. “But life ain’t fun at the moment and I’m coping the best I can on my own.”

  She gave a derisive laugh. “The live ménage is a coping mechanism?”

  Was she jealous? He scrutinized her, her cheeks turning pink under his stare. “Don’t tell me you bought that crap. You were there when we set up the charade. You know being around Flick is all for show.”

  “I did. But you’re awfully convincing.” Her vulnerability lashed out at him. “And then you scored another lover who was never in the plan.”

  “I have nothing but friendship for both of them.”

  She scoffed and broke eye contact, focusing on the landing below. The silence stretched out, the awkwardness increasing with every second. Being with her would solve all his problems. Well, not solve them, but make them nonexistent. Nothing else would matter if he was finally with her. Nothing could drag him down.

  But this place where he was—the spot between love and nothingness—was toxic.

  “Leah?” He chanced another step, and reminiscent of the time when he’d backed her into a wall months ago, she retreated, maintaining the space between them. History was repeating itself, and this time he didn’t have the luxury of intoxication to excuse what could be a huge mistake.

  “I’m going to do something crazy…” He took another step, the nearness making her eyes w
iden.

  “What?” Her voice was panicked.

  “I’m going to tell you there’s only one person I’m interested in. That there’s only ever been one person capable of making me happy.” He removed the last foot of space between them, backing her against the cement wall. “And you know it’s you.”

  Chapter Ten

  Leah didn’t react. She didn’t think she could. Her mind was too lost in thought to consider action.

  “Leah?”

  His voice was soft, so sweet and coaxing. She remembered how hard it’d been to get over the last time they were poised to kiss. She remembered the pain of suppressing her energized affection and vivid fantasies.

  “Don’t,” she whispered. “I can’t talk about this.”

  “If not now, when?”

  He reached out a hand and she whimpered as his finger stroked her cheek. That one touch changed her life, her outlook and her reluctance, forever marking her skin.

  “I was going to have this conversation once the tour ended,” he admitted. “But that’s too far away. I can’t wait anymore. I don’t care about the divorce or the complications. I want to be with you.”

  Her heart rallied, maintaining the arduous pace threatening to instigate a heart attack. He wanted her. And was prepared to take on anything that stood in his way. Yet, the world stood in their way. Their livelihood. The family they’d made within Reckless could be torn apart. At least, for her. She could be ripped from them.

  “What about Felicity?”

  “You’re concerned about my gay, fake girlfriend?”

  “Gay?” She balked.

  He gave a mischievous grin, leaning closer, filling her with something akin to hope.

  “Yeah. Her and Hannah. Apparently, this charade wasn’t only about instigating hype. Grander doesn’t want them announcing their relationship and making Slicker famous for homosexuality instead of their music.”

  She gave a slow nod, understanding, yet not entirely functioning because his body was pressed up against hers. All his places touching all of hers.