“Yeah. I want to publically apologize to my band… well, mostly ex-bandmates… and our loyal manager, Gavin Jones, for them having to go through this. They may not have stood by me, but they did in earlier years, when I did stupid shit just for the hell of it. They still made music with me, anyway. And if I’d had my way, this wouldn’t be how we ended. So I’m sorry for that.
“And I want to thank the people who believed me through this ordeal when everyone else had thrown me to the wolves. Quinn, who has never let me down and never let me fight on my own; Kevin, an old friend and mentor; Gavin, who has done some of the finest work for this band and always looked out for us; and you, Laurel. I want to thank you for believing me.”
Laurel’s eyes widened, her body tensing.
“You had no reason to believe me,” I said. “You didn’t know me. You had heard the same bullshit stories everyone else has. But you came here, and you met me… and you believed me. And then you went out and saved my fucking life. And I owe you everything. That’s why I wanted to give this to you. You earned your success.”
Laurel’s mouth dropped open as her cheeks flushed pink. No doubt she hadn’t expected how much thinking I had been doing about what had happened. After the fury passed, and after the confrontation with Duke and the band was finally over, the impending charges wiped away from my future, my mind was able to focus on Laurel. Really, though, my mind never stopped focusing on Laurel. Even after what she had done, every bone in my body ached for her touch again.
“I… I was just doing my job,” said Laurel, but the way she frowned, it was like she didn’t believe her own words—like she was reciting some script.
“Were you?” I asked.
She looked at my expression and searched it with her gaze. With a glance down at the recording phone in her hand, she couldn’t help herself. “Am I the one giving the interview, here, or are you?” The ghost of a smirk appeared in the corner of her mouth, and warmth spread through my body at the sight of it.
“Make it one of my conditions,” I said. “Quid pro quo.”
“Does that make you Hannibal Lecter?” she joked, sniffling as she did.
“Will your magazine print a joke as dirty as the one I want to make right now about eating you?” I said with a grin.
Laurel laughed, a real, full laugh, her eyes bright. “Ask me whatever you want.”
I slid a little closer to her on the driftwood trunk. “What made you want to come do this story on me?”
She licked her lips. “Timing,” she said. “I’d fucked up pretty hard on my last one. I wanted something big to get me out of the proverbial ditch I’d fallen into… and then Sun Fest happened. With the press moratorium, this was my only play, but I had to try, so...”
“So if you had been a hardcore guitarist instead of a journalist, you’d be the dude who climbs up on the highest cabs to stage dive from, is that what you’re saying? Go big, or go home?”
The comparison made her laugh and blush. “Well, when you put it that way, I sound insufferable.”
“You want the big prizes,” I said. “I can relate.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” she said. “And your story was the biggest prize.”
I took a beat, and a breath. “Did you come here thinking I was guilty?”
Laurel looked sad. “Well… yeah. Everyone did. The videos were… they were pretty hard to fight. But, even that first night in the Graveyard Club, I had already started to question the narrative that was playing out. There was something about you, Noah… even talking to you, the real you, for just a few moments, made it perfectly clear that you were not the man everyone thought you were.”
My chest welled up with emotion and ache for her. I’d never heard a woman talk about me like that. None of them ever seemed to see past the surface. But it hadn’t fooled Laurel for even a moment, once she got close enough. She really was flawless.
“Every day I spent with you just made it clearer,” she said softly.
I slid closer to her, close enough to wrap her legs in mine. Laurel’s eyes welled up with tears the closer I came, and when we touched began to cry in earnest. I took her free hand in both of mine.
“Did you tell the truth when you were with me?” I asked. “Is the Laurel I’ve fallen in love with the real woman?”
Laurel looked up into my eyes, amazed. I lifted a hand to wipe the tears from under cheek.
“Yes,” she said in a desperate exhale. “Yes, Noah. You didn’t know me from Eve. I had no reason to lie about all of that. And from the second you sat down next to me at the bar and complimented my shirt, I wanted you to know everything about me. I don’t know why… but I did.” She placed her hand over mine as I caressed her face. “I never lied about any of it. And I never lied about how much I care about you.”
“After you told me who you were, I was so afraid I had trusted the wrong woman again,” I said, pressing my forehead against hers. “But then all I could think about was… was that you had given up your story for me. This was huge for you, and you just walked away from it. I tried to imagine a single time in my life I’ve ever done that for someone, and I couldn’t fucking do it. You’re an incredible woman, Laurel.”
“Noah…” she whimpered, tearing up again.
“You proved you cared for me. You sacrificed to protect me, Laurel. I can count on one hand the number of people that have ever done that for me before.”
“And I can count the same number of times I’ve sacrificed,” she said. “I don’t know why you think I’m incredible, Noah. I’ve never sacrificed for anyone before. I’ve always been focused on my own career, my own plans… and I’ve never felt guilty for any of it. But with you, I couldn’t. After I got the video, all I could think about was… asshole tourists overwhelming the Graveyard Club and driving Kevin insane or turning his baby into something horrible… you, having to move out of your hometown or duck around getting harassed all the time, having no peace to find your new path… I saw everything I was about to destroy, even though I thought I was doing something good. And I couldn’t do it to you, Noah. You deserve nothing but peace in this world. You’ve sacrificed for everyone and asked for nothing.”
Every word she spoke felt like it was shattering the cold, dark walls I had built around my heart for so many lonely years. I enfolded Laurel in my arms and drew her softly into my chest. She threw her arms around me and dug her face into my shoulder, crying.
“Noah, I love you,” she said against my neck. “I love you.”
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed. My muscles shook inside me at the sound of her words, and I grasped her close to me. “I love you too, Laurel. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Can you ever really forgive me?” she sobbed. “I want you to believe me.”
“I do. I believe you,” I said and dropped a kiss on her lips. She returned it hungrily, pulling my face down to meet hers.
After a few minutes of tender kissing, Laurel realized her phone was still recording, dangling in her left hand behind my neck, and she laughed and brought it forward. “I should probably not include the making out in the write-up.”
“I don’t know, it might be just what Slipstream is lacking,” I said with a wink. “Sex sells, right?”
She turned the recording off and looked up at me. “I’m going to have to go back to New York, at least for a bit, and finish this up.”
“And then what?”
Laurel smiled shyly. “And then… then I’m coming right back here. For a long while.”
“I think I might know someone who can show you around,” I said.
She kissed me again and didn’t stop until her phone was chiming, the call of an incoming message. Laurel pulled away from my mouth and looked at her phone with an annoyed grunt.
“Just one sec, it’s my partner from the magazine.” A few finger swipes later, she pulled up his message and let out a laugh with a shake of her head.
She held up the phone to me, and displayed a photo
of a fit dude with short-cropped hair sitting in a cozy dark blue first class airline seat. In each hand, he held a full mimosa, and grinned at the camera behind sunglasses like he had won the lottery.
“I guess I missed my flight,” she said, stuffing the phone in her pocket. She looked up at me with lustful, curious eyes.
As I ran my hands up her thighs, I said, “Well, what’s to be done about that?”
Epilogue
Laurel
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Seriously, man, it’s still not centered!” I laughed, waving my hands from side to side. The workers on the scaffolding above the doorway to the Graveyard Club followed my directions with only a little frustration, until I hollered and put up the okay sign with both hands. “Perfect, there! Perfect. I’ll have beers waiting for you boys when you’re done.”
The workers made their notes about the location, and then carefully lowered the brand-new, but old school-looking, neon sign for the club that had just been delivered. I wiggled around the scaffolding with care and went back inside.
Things had moved fast after the story hit the presses. It became the best-selling issue of Slipstream in the past fifteen years, and generated a ton of new revenue for the magazine. Noah’s reputation had recovered—and then some. Shows and reporters had lined up the first few weeks, trying to get some face time with him, but he turned them all down. He had said everything he wanted to say in my story, and he only wanted to focus on the future.
Domino was upset, but she understood when I stepped down from the magazine. She called it going out on a high note, but the truth was just that I didn’t want to sneak around my scene anymore, trying to uncover its dirt—I wanted to get back to helping it thrive, supporting the local acts, and writing culture pieces. Deathshead, one of Seattle’s oldest underground magazines, was all too happy to hire me, and I intended to take over as editor one day.
I found a house in Thornwood only a short drive from Noah’s, which I only bought after I insisted it was the right thing to do for a lifelong commitment-phobe. He understood my need for freedom; it wasn’t like we were apart for long periods, anyway. Noah was spending his time on low-key things after the stress of the festival, and most of his days, he was working the Graveyard Club with Kevin, slowly edging him into the present one upgrade at a time.
Behind the bar, Kevin was drying glasses. “Get it all okay?”
“Yeah, it’s going to look fucking amazing,” I told him. “They should have it finished in an hour or so.”
“Don’t forget to ask them to hang up some of the bug zappers we got, too. That neon light is gonna pull all the skeeters to the smokers at night,” he said, gesturing to the lamps gathered under one of the tables.
“Will do,” I promised and took a drink of water from the glass on the bar.
“Babe,” came Noah’s muffled voice from the stage. “Are you busy? Can you help me out here?”
I hurried over to find him trying to hold up one of the overhead PA speakers while he simultaneously tried to maneuver a dolly that had tipped onto its side.
“Geez, tough guy, what gives!” I teased, picking up the dolly and rolling it right underneath him. Noah lowered the speaker carefully onto the platform and stood up with an exhale. He straightened his shirt and pulled me close for a kiss.
“Thanks for helping out today,” he said. “Are you sure the mag didn’t mind?”
“Nah,” I said. “This new place is way more low-key than Slipstream. Besides, that was the point, remember? That I don’t work my ass off all the time anymore?”
“So what do you call helping fix up the Graveyard Club—a vacation?” he laughed, slapping my ass playfully.
“Ooh,” I said. “We should probably take a real one of those soon. I’m getting a little travel thirsty.”
Noah’s eyes lit up. “You too, huh? I bitched about every tour, but man… it always gave me something to look forward to.”
“Well… maybe we should plan one,” I said.
“Maybe we should!” he said, hands on his hips.
“Why are you saying that all defiantly? I’m agreeing with you,” I laughed, poking him in the ribs.
“I don’t know. You get my blood all boiled up.” He pulled me close by the waist and kissed me deeply until Kevin began cat-calling us from behind the bar.
“Back to work, you fuckin’ horn dogs!” Kevin laughed. “If I don’t get any, neither do you!”
Noah and I laughed as we parted, and I hopped off the stage to go check on the sign workers. They were still on track, and the sign already improved the curb appeal of the club. I gave them a thumbs up and returned inside, but the room was empty.
“Hey, Noah, I had this idea,” I said as I came around the corner to the back room.
I found Noah and Kevin huddled up near the sink, looking down at something Noah was holding in his hand. Something small, and something glittery. It was only a split second before they realized I was in the room, and Noah scrambled to shove his hands in his pockets while Kevin made a surprised noise and waved his towel around.
They stared at me like deer caught in headlights, not even bothering to try and explain their strange behavior. I looked to one, and then the other, my smile growing as I waited and waited for one of them to try and cover.
“You guys are… really bad at this,” I laughed.
Noah’s face twisted in a playful glare. Kevin started huffing and walked past me, slapping me a few times with the towel. “Hey, why don’t you mind your own business?”
Noah followed him, walking up close to me. He leaned down and in heated whisper said, “Yeah, why don’t you mind your own business, babe?”
“Why don’t you make me?”
Noah smiled and gave an evil little laugh before he dropped a kiss on my forehead and moved past me into the bar.
As I watched him go with a smile, I wondered if he realized it didn’t take an investigative journalist to figure out what a ring box in the pocket of a pair of jeans looks like.
Bonus Book 5 - Pranked
Rich, handsome... and dangerously bored.
Bennett
I've got more money than I know what to do with, and all the time in the world to spend it, so who can judge me for having a little fun? A prank here and there, just to keep me sharp.
So when disgraced starlet Ava Cassidy poured her heart out to me over shots in a Vegas lounge, I knew we were in for one wild night. But when she woke up with no memory of what we did the night before, well, who could blame me for wanting to just mess with her a little?
I never thought she'd actually believe me when I told her we got married.
Now we're headed on our "honeymoon" and I'm in way over my head. If I tell her the truth, there's no way she'll stay with me.
And I want her to stay.
But how long can I sustain the biggest prank of my life?
Ava
In Hollywood, everyone is fake. Everyone is acting, all the time.
Acting cool.
Acting smart.
Acting beautiful.
Acting sweet.
Acting however they think they need in order to win them the part or the deal or the headline.
I should know. I’m an actress.
Which means I should have known better than to fall for Bennett.
Chapter 1
Ava
I woke from a deep sleep to the unmistakable feeling of an icepick being shoved through my left eye.
It shouldn’t have been unexpected, though. This might have been my first hangover, but popular media had led me to believe they were always like this. I just hadn’t properly considered the consequences when I’d started drinking yesterday afternoon.
TMZ would have a ball with this, if they ever found out about it. “America’s Sweetheart, Ava Cassidy, goes on a drinking binge 12 hours into unemployment.” I knew the world had just been waiting for me to follow in the footsteps of those before me. First you’re “America’s Sweetheart
,” then you’re shaving your head or being arrested on national television. Unemployment was just the beginning.
Unemployment.
The thought hit me like... well, like an icepick through my eye socket. I was unemployed. Bad enough that I’d caught Ken with Fiona—Fiona of all people! But to have lost my job over that, that... I wasn’t sure I had a word bad enough for it. Layla might.
And that’s when the rest of it started coming back. Layla’s insistence on a trip to Vegas to get my mind off “that asshole,” as she liked to call Ken.
“Vegas is the perfect place to go,” Layla urged, letting both of her hands rest on my shoulders, “So many fallen stars there no one will notice you’re taking a break from shooting across the sky while you get your bearings again.”
Dirty Jock Page 96
