Play Hard (The Devil's Share Book 5)

by Maxa,L. P.

  He said it like a statement, not a question. And that sort of pissed me off. “No, you don’t make me nervous. Flying makes me nervous.” In reality it was probably a combination of both. But hell if I’d tell him that, his big head might explode.

  “Miss? Is there something I can get you?” It was a different lady this time; she was older and wore her hair in an extremely tight gray bun. It appeared to be giving her a face-lift.

  “I’ll take a gin and tonic, please.” I was already reaching down into my bag for my ID before she asked. I was carded everywhere I went, even R-rated movies. I held my license out to show her I was twenty-four. She smiled and then left to mix me up a good dose of calm-the-f-down-kid. It’d be made with some cheap gin, I was sure, but anything would help at this point.

  “Fake ID?”

  I shoved my wallet back into my purse and shot Luke’s smirking face a snotty look. “No.” Toe-curling kisser or not, Luke seemed like kind of a jerk. We hit a patch of turbulence and I automatically threw my hands out to grip the armrests. Only one hand hit its intended target. The other? Said jerk’s upper thigh.

  “You ready for round two, Pixie?”

  I dug my nails into his leg, grinning when I saw him wince. “Pixie?”

  He reached down and put his hand on top of mine, threading our fingers together and removing my claws from his skin. “You remind me of a spastic little fairy. Like a trail of crazy glitter should follow you everywhere you go.”

  “Eh. I’ve been called worse.” The flight attendant sat my drink down and refilled Luke’s scotch. We sat in an oddly comfortable silence and drank our liquor, holding hands. Between the gin and Luke’s hand in mine, I started to relax, more than I’d ever relaxed on a plane (not including the flight with the nuns). The gorgeous man sitting next to me was a stranger. Literally, a stranger. And sort of an ass. But I liked him. He entertained me. For once I didn’t feel the need to fill the space with words and questions. And after a while, my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep, my head on his shoulder.

  Chapter Seven

  Luke

  We were still holding hands. It was nice—bizarre, but nice. And that kiss earlier? Better than nice, it was great. As much banging as I’d done in Central America, it’d been ages since I’d made out with someone. She was weird, this little sprite who had been sleeping with her head on my shoulder. She was beautiful as hell, and she made me smile with her anxiety and her talkative panic attacks. For a while I’d even forgotten about what was waiting for me in Nashville. I’d forgotten about my broken heart. I’d put my head on top of hers and closed my eyes. She smelled like flowers and gin. I didn’t smell her hair on purpose or anything. I had to breathe, you know? Life was peaceful, for a good two hours. And then the flight attendants had begun coming by to pick up all the trash and my heart rate started to accelerate.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’d like to welcome you to Nashville. We’ll be landing in about ten minutes—”

  I stopped listening. I had to. I suddenly felt like I was about to jump out of my skin. All my serenity vanished into thin air. I started bouncing my knee and rubbing my unoccupied palm on my unoccupied thigh. I was beginning to sweat.

  “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  My shaking had gotten so bad that I’d woken up Harlow. She moved her silky blonde hair out of her face and went to take her hand from mine. But I held firm. I’d helped her, and now she was going to have to help me. “I’m losing my shit.” I ran my fingers roughly through my hair. I wanted to be back on the beach in Costa Rica. Fuck. I really was going to have a panic attack. I was going to have to be tranqued on a plane and the paparazzi were going to have a fucking field day.

  “Why? What’s happening? Is the plane going down?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” She threw open the shade on the window. “Is it the engine? Did we lose one? Did we lose both? Are we going to do an emergency landing?” She slammed the shade back shut and stood up in her seat, looking around the plane for signs of mayday. She squeezed my fingers to the point of pain.

  I snorted and shook my head. “No. We’re going to do a regular landing. We’re here, we’re in Nashville.” This chick cracked me up. And turned me the fuck on, but that was neither here nor there.

  She put her hand to her chest, “Shit. Don’t scare me like that.” She looked over at me, concern evident on her beautiful fairy face. “Why are you upset?”

  “My family. I have to see my family tomorrow.” I cracked my neck. “And I’m not ready. I’m just not ready. I have to hire a fake girlfriend and I have to, I have to, fuck. I’m losing it. This is a panic attack, right? Am I insane like you are? Quick. Kiss me.”

  “I’m going to ignore the insane comment because I can clearly see that you are in distress. And kissing only shut me up because it shocked me into silence. You’re expecting it, so it won’t work.” Harlow reached up and adjusted the air vents so that both were blowing directly on me. She picked up my glass of scotch, handing it over. “Drink.” I took a sip, but when I tried to put it down, she put her fingers under it and tipped it back toward my mouth. “No way, crazy pants. Drink it all.”

  I drained the glass and took a deep breath, letting the booze wash over me and help me relax.

  “I understand not wanting to see your family.” She reached out and put her free hand on my back. “Is it your dad? Your mom? Mean younger brother?”

  Did she just call me old again? “No, my friends. My band. Lexi.” Why was I talking to her about this? “We have this tour coming up for our newest album. But I haven’t seen them in three months. I sort of ran away to Costa Rica and spent all my time hooking up with random chicks and getting wasted.” Was her word vomit contagious?

  “Ew. I’m so glad I let you put your tongue in my mouth.” She picked up her drink, drank it dry, swished it around her mouth before swallowing, and then tossed the empty cup into the trash bag the flight attendant was holding out. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

  “Obviously.”

  I shook my head, somewhat violently back and forth, ignoring her deadpan sarcasm. “I shouldn’t have lied about having a girlfriend. And I shouldn’t have run away from my problems.”

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t have. Because you know the worst part of running away from your problems? They are always waiting for you when you get back.”

  My eyes went wide. “You’re a smart little pixie.” She was smart. And beautiful. Kind of insane…but a reallllly good little actress.

  Just like that, my panic attack stopped.

  Chapter Eight

  Harlow

  Luke went from “losing his shit” to cool as a cucumber in two seconds flat. He turned toward me, still holding my hand, and smiled. “How long are you going to be in Nashville?”

  “Five days.”

  “And then you’re going to New York to see your dad?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, basically against my will I might add. You see, I have this new—”

  He put his free hand over my mouth. “Will you be my fake girlfriend? Just until we get to New York? Please.”

  I bit the palm of his hand. “What? No. I’m not going on tour with some guy I just met and his ‘band.’ Who does that?”

  He chuckled. “First of all, you’d be surprised. Second, why did you air quote my band? It’s a real band. And last, it’s just a press tour to promote our newest album. Radio shows and red carpet appearances. No parties, nothing illicit.”

  Luke was hands down the most gorgeous guy who had ever made out with me on a plane. And the thought of never seeing him again after we parted ways at baggage claim kind of made my heart ache. But still. “No, go hire an escort.”

  He shook his head. “I thought about that, but it never ends well. Haven’t you seen any rom-coms?”

  “Why have you seen so many that you can use them to describe life situations?” I put my tray
table in the upright position and then reached over awkwardly (because we were still holding hands) and did the same to his.

  “You’re a relatively pleasant guy. Don’t you have any friends you could ask to help you out? Any girls begging to be the one standing next to you?”

  His brow furrowed, like he was thinking really hard. Then he shook his head. “It would never work. Lexi knows, and hates, all my exes. Not to mention the fact that she can spot a groupie from ten paces.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have ‘groupies’?”

  He growled, “I’m in a real band, a really fucking famous band.” He took a quick breath. “I’ll pay you.”

  I laughed. “I don’t want your money, and I don’t need your money. I’m rich.” No lie. I was looooaded. “My dad always tried to buy my love, and I refused to spend any of his guilt money, so I invested every penny and now I’m sitting high like a—”

  “Pixie. Focus.” Luke snapped his fingers in front of my face. “I will literally do anything you ask, anything. Okay? Please.” He held my gaze. “Harlow, I’m begging you to help me.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, sir. Go find a professional, I’m a horrible liar.” I was a top-notch liar, not that that was something to be proud of. But I just couldn’t jump into this guy’s drama. I had my own issues to deal with, not to mention he was hot as hell and I’d probably end up falling for him.

  He gave me an are-you-freaking-kidding-me look. “You can fake cry on demand. You seem like a pretty spectacular liar to me.” He pointed a finger in my face. “And will you please stop calling me sir? I’m barely four years older than you.”

  I nodded. “You were in elementary school when I was in the womb.”

  “What? No I wasn’t. You are terrible at math.”

  “You’re right. I totally am.” Everyone on the plane was standing, getting ready to exit. Huh, look at that. Luke being a complete nut job had distracted me through the landing. “It was really great meeting you, Luke. And no joke, I’ll never forget that kiss.” I stood and scooted past him when I saw an opening. “Be honest with your friends.” When I was almost out of the plane, I turned and called over my shoulder, “And good luck finding that escort.”

  ***

  I’d done the right thing blowing off that sexy guy and his ridiculous offer. The fact that I looked for him at baggage claim, the limo line, and the whole drive through downtown to my hotel was nothing. Being inexplicably drawn to another human was just a factor of lust. Not heart. I had decided to come to Nashville alone for some peace and quiet, and I was bound and determined to get it.

  Miami was loud and colorful and always full of chaos. I enjoyed my life there, I liked my friends, but I needed a few days to myself before I had to head to NYC to see my dad and that Barbie he’d married last year. My parents had been divorced for more than half my life. My dislike for my stepmother had nothing to do with any childish fantasies that my parents would get back together. My mother was better off without my dad. She knew it and I knew it. Heck, I’d known it at the age of ten. Nope, my contempt for that man and his child bride came from the fact that he was a shallow asshole who constantly tried to buy my affection, and she was no better. He was a wealthy, successful man and his gifts got more extravagant the more I pushed him away. It was a vicious cycle that had been going on since I was six and he missed my dance recital but sent me six dozen pink roses. A simple I’m sorry over a chocolate milk shake would have sufficed. But nooooo, not my dad. That would have required him to spend some quality time with me.

  Ugh. Now I needed a drink.

  I walked up to the long light wood counter and smiled my friendliest smile. “Reservation under Davis, please.”

  The well-dressed and freshly pressed concierge returned my smile with an even bigger one. “Welcome, Ms. Davis.” He got a bunch of paperwork together and typed about a thousand words on the keyboard. “How many keys will you be needing?”

  I held up my index finger. “Just one.” Some people say one is the loneliest number, but I didn’t buy it. I was always surrounded by friends but I thoroughly appreciated being on my own. I shoved the key in my purse. “Can you have someone take my things up to my room and then direct me to the nearest bar, please?” I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve had a really long day.” For some reason I didn’t want this man to think I was an alcoholic. He looked like he was someone’s grandpa. Old men always tugged at my heartstrings. Why? No freaking clue.

  Five minutes later I was walking into the stunning outdoor hotel bar, situated right off the outdoor pool. This hotel had two; one was indoors. The sun was setting and it was cold outside. But they had heaters and round steel fire pits all over the place. The cool breeze and the warm orange and red flames were the perfect mix. It felt amazing. Now all I needed was a gin and tonic and I’d be—

  “Harlow?”

  I whirled around at the sound of my name. Who the hell could that be? I’d chosen Nashville because I literally knew no one here. My heart started to pound; my heart was a bitch who wanted that voice to be connected to the gorgeous man I’d left on the tarmac. I searched the lounge area, my eyes finally landing on none other than Mr. Handsome himself. “Luke.”

  He winked and patted the seat next to him. “Come. Join me.”

  I let out a little sigh but couldn’t seem to hide the smile on my face. And believe me, I tried. I’d been disappointed by men enough in my life. I didn’t like adding to the list, and this guy had heartbreaker written all over his perfect face. I sat down next to him and leaned back as he signaled the waitress. “Are you stalking me, kid?”

  “Kid? I’ll take that over sir any day.” He chuckled, and I tried not to let that sound travel down my spine. “I was here first, Pixie.”

  When the waitress made her way over to us, Luke ordered another scotch on the rocks and I got a gin and tonic. I needed to watch my liquor intake around this man. He was hot and he kissed like a god. The safest thing to do was to take my drink to go and head up to my room for a nice relaxing bath. But there was just something about Luke, something that made me want to sit next to him. I wanted to know more: I wanted to know why he’d lied to his friends. I wanted to know what he was really running from and why he’d all but pleaded for my help. “Well, since we are apparently destined to be friends, tell me about your ‘band.’”

  “Stop putting air quotes around the word band.” He gave me a questioning look. “You really don’t know who I am?”

  I snorted. “Cocky much?”

  “I’m the drummer for the Devil’s Share.”

  Huh, so he was ultra-famous. My dad was in the music industry, so as a rule musicians didn’t wow me. “Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ve heard of you guys.” I had heard of them, but I didn’t really listen to any of their music. I didn’t say that though because I wasn’t a total asshole.

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s it? That’s the reaction I get when I tell you I’m rich and famous?”

  I took my drink from the waitress’s hand, stirring it with the miniature straw to make sure it was well mixed. “What did you want me to do? Jump up and down then ask you to sign my boobs? I’ve been around men like you my whole life. Sorry, kid, but I couldn’t care less that you’re rich and famous. I’m rich. Do you see me asking you to clap for me?”

  Luke threw his head back, chuckling. “No, I guess not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound arrogant, I’m just used to that being all girls care about. Well, here in America anyway.” He took a sip of his drink, studying me over the thick glass rim.

  I shrugged. “I’m not all girls.”

  His lips twitched. “No, you certainly are not.”

  His words made my heart flutter a little. Which was wholly unnecessary and it needed to calm the hell down. “Tell me why you ran away from your friends.” I got more comfortable against the deep purple cushion behind me, turning more fully toward Luke.

  He shook his head. “I need way more scotch in my system before I share that story.” He took a big sip and then
sat his drink down on the glass-topped wicker table in front of us. “Tell me more about why you hate your dad.”

  I shot him an amused look over my tumbler. “I’m going to need way more gin in my system before I share that story.” Two could play at that game. I was a pretty open person, and sharing my distaste for my father didn’t bother me. But it did depress me, and at the moment I was having a good time with Luke and I wasn’t ready to stop.

  Luke’s grin turned mischievous. He signaled our waitress again. “Can we get a bottle of scotch, a bottle of gin, and two shot glasses please?” When she looked like she wasn’t sure if that was allowed, Luke pulled out his black Amex and sat it on her tray with a sexy smile. She took one look, flushed bright red then turned and headed to the bar. Money talks, and obviously so does flirting.

  I hated the small stab of irritation (irritation, not jealousy, there’s a difference) that came with the fact that he was flirting with our pretty, not to mention stacked, waitress. “And what if I don’t want to sit outside and get sauced with the likes of you?”

  “You do.” He winked.

  How many times a day did this man wink? Insufferable. “How do you know?”

  He leaned in close, putting his lips next to my ear. “I can still remember the sounds you made when I had my hands on you.”

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Nine

  Luke

  I knew I had her when I heard her inhale a shaky breath and the ice clinked on the side of the glass in her hand. I was good at this, good at flirting, good at closing the deal. I’d always avoided the one-night stands, until Lexi came on the bus and I’d needed an escape. But even then, I’d stuck to chicks I knew or had known in the past. Since our giant communal house in Florida? All bets were off. I fucked as often and as many women as possible. Great distraction and a hell of a lot of fun. Who knew what I’d been missing all these years? My bandmates, that’s freaking who.

  Harlow recovered quickly. “I do believe you were the one trying to pull me onto your lap. If that flight attendant hadn’t come by and—”