Playing With the Drummer

by Robin Covington

“Is that coming from his girlfriend or the reporter?”

  “When it comes to Rocky, I’m always his girlfriend first.”

  “That was clear when you passed up this story and convinced him to issue the press release.” She paused, watching Lita closely before shaking her head. “I really wish you’d gotten him to call me first. I could have, ”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing you could have done,” Lita said. “You were never going to convince him to do an interview. In fact, he wanted to ignore it and let that Prentiss guy sell the story to the highest bidder.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Not even a little bit.” Lita slid onto the barstool, waiting until Jules did the same before continuing. “Prentiss called me, and I went straight to Rocky to convince him to get ahead of the story.”

  “You knew about the story first? I thought Rocky told you.”

  “No. His father’s cellmate called me and told me everything. I took notes and told him that I needed to talk to my editor, and then I went straight to Rocky. My goal was to act quickly so that he didn’t call anyone else.”

  “So Russ doesn’t know?” Jules asked, her eyebrows raised so high they disappeared into her hairline. Alarmed was a mild way to describe her expression.

  “No, I never told him.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah. Whoa.” So much had happened since she’d hung up with Prentiss and gone straight to Rocky’s room. Their night together at his cabin had flown by and also felt like a million years long at the same time. Her arrival in Montana a few days ago felt like a lifetime. She’d been convinced that she’d never get a second chance with Rocky, and now they were planning on a future together, building a life.

  She’d buried the worry about her career from her mind, but Jules’s question brought it back to the front of class where it sat with its hand raised, refusing to be ignored.

  “If Russ finds out that you killed that story, ” Jules voice drifted off as if she was overcome with the surefire consequences if he ever got wind of her betrayal, and that is exactly how he’d view it. “What do you think the chances are that he won’t figure it out?”

  “Not sure.” This business was small and even if no one knew for certain what had gone down, he wasn’t stupid. She knew she was going to have to do some quick talking to assuage his suspicions when they cropped up. If no one else knew what happened, then she’d be okay. She was good at being convincing, but if someone told, she was screwed. But she wasn’t going to get into it with Jules. “I’ll handle it if it comes up. No problem.”

  “Yeah.” Jules laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I hope Rocky realizes how lucky he is to have you if the shit hits the fan.”

  “He will.” Lita believed it. Their rough patch was behind them, the demons of Mexico thrown to the side. For once, she wouldn’t let her insecurity and self-sabotage ruin a good thing. They’d get through this wedding and get started on their own happiness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rocky strode across the lobby of the mansion, his muscles still singing with the sweet burn that always lingered in his arms after a workout. Weights had been on the agenda today; he needed to maintain his strength and endurance if he was going to drum for two and half hours a night, six times per week while on tour. He double-timed it up the stairs, hoping to catch Lita before they had to convene for dinner with the others.

  He missed her. This morning, waking up at his house, her body draped over his in the bed, the covers tangled up with their legs, had been the closest thing to perfect he’d ever experienced. He’d stared at her for the longest time, watching the sunrise in the window over her bare shoulder, waiting until she woke on her own to toss off the blankets and make love to her until she was limp with her pleasure.

  And it was making love. A hard fuck or an intense, slow burn, when they came together it was because of how they felt about each other. He loved Lita, had loved her ever since he met her in that awful bar and she told him her name was Madonna. Something in her called to him, and while his head had refused to acknowledge it, his soul had known it from the start. It made sense now. She would have never been able to hurt him so badly if he hadn’t cared so deeply.

  Now they had a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste one fucking minute more. They’d lost four years, and he’d be damned if he spent the next four seconds second-guessing himself or downplaying their connection. He’d told Lita that he was an all-in kind of guy, and he was all fucking into her.

  Rocky reached the door to his room, slid the key into the lock, and stepped inside. The maid had folded Lita’s clothes and put them on the end of the bed, the suitcase was on the stand, and her perfume lingered in the air and teased him. She wasn’t there. He bit back his disappointment, ripping off his T-shirt and shorts and jumping in the shower. He’d go find her and entice her into coming back to bed. They’d been up late. They needed a nap.

  Rocky took a quick shower, letting his hands linger on the erection created by his mind, drifting back to last night in this room with Lita. Open, responsive, trusting him to take care of her, she’d detonated his last remaining restraint and blown it to dust. While she’d been the one in the vulnerable position, it was his heart that was the most exposed, and he couldn’t summon the energy to even begin to rebuild his walls with her. She was in. Had always been inside the fortress. He was the only one that refused to see it.

  Rocky needed to find her. They had so much to talk about. Well, he had so much to tell her, because he knew what he wanted. He wanted her, forever. No questions. No doubts.

  A knock on the door forced him to quickly pull up his jeans, fastening them just as the second rap on the wood sounded. He opened it, hoping that he’d find Lita there. He’d didn’t even bother to hide his disappointment when he found Dash leaning against the doorframe.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, turning to head back into the room and leaving his buddy standing in the hallway.

  “Do you always answer the door without your shirt on? Were you raised in a barn?” Dash asked as he shut the door behind him.

  “What? You’re scrawny ass can’t handle it?” Dash was anything but scrawny. He was smaller than he was but muscular. He was fast, too, something that had come in handy the few times they’d had too much to drink and picked fights with assholes in a bar after a gig. Ah…the glory days of The Rift.

  “Uh huh. All I’m saying is that if you get any bigger, we’re going to paint you green and rent you out for kid’s birthday parties.” Dash flopped onto the loveseat in front of the TV, cracking himself up with his own joke.

  “Fuck off.” Rocky laughed as he pulled on his T-shirt and walked over to sit down next to his friend, the man he’d thought of as a brother for so long. “This is cool.”

  “What?”

  “Hanging out with you. Being friends again.” He felt the flush of heated embarrassment creep up his neck. He’d never been good with words unless he was writing them down in a song. Growing up with his old man, you couldn’t show feelings to anybody, because people would use them against you, even family.

  “Brothers.”

  “What?”

  “We were brothers once…” Dash glanced over at him, his own embarrassment making his expression looked pained. “I’m not going to apologize for leaving. I had to do it, but I’m sorry that I kicked you out of my life. That wasn’t cool.”

  “It’s okay. I get it. Man, we all have to do what we have to do to get through the night.”

  “It’s easier with Lori.” Dash paused, the silence that fell between them was absent of any of the anger and awkwardness of their past encounters. “You and Lita seem good.”

  “Yeah, we are.” Rocky debated on how much he wanted to share with his friend. They were friends again, getting back to where they had been.

  Dash would have been the one to hear about Mexico, the one who he’d have called when h
is mom died. He remembered what Dash had told him a couple of days ago. If you aren’t moving forward, then you’re moving backward. Life doesn’t allow you to stand still. He’d written it off as some hippie mumbo jumbo, but maybe he was right. If he hadn’t taken the chance with Lita…

  “I love her.” He laughed at the shocked expression on Dash’s face. Where was a camera when you needed one? “What? You didn’t figure it out? I thought all that solitude in the boonies put you in greater touch with the energy in the universe.”

  “It’s yoga, jackass, not acid.”

  “Whatever.” He dodged the pillow Dash threw at him, settling back against the cushions. No amount of shit from Dash or anybody could ruin his mood right now. He had Lita back in his life, his bed, his future. Nothing could fuck this up right now.

  “That happened fast.”

  “Four years in the making. She had me back in Mexico, and if I had been in the right headspace to listen to her, it might have been different. I think we’re in a good place now to make this work.”

  “I hope so, man.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them, and Rocky rose from his seat. “If that’s Lita, you need to get your ass out of here. We’ve got to make up for lost time.”

  “Oh hell. Spare me the sex talk.”

  Rocky swung the door open and met disappointment for the second time this afternoon. This time, the big letdown was Eddie, almost unrecognizable without his camera slung over his shoulder.

  “Lita here? I heard she was shacking up with you,” he said, the bored expression he always wore not slipping even a little bit. Rocky bit back the urge to reach and check Eddie’s pulse. The guy barely seemed conscious he was so laid back.

  “She isn’t here right now, but I’ll see her.”

  “Great. Give her this and tell her it’s the final edit.” He handed over a thumb drive, turning to go almost as soon as he placed it in Rocky’s palm. “That went live about an hour ago.”

  “What went live?” Rocky asked to Eddie’s retreating back. He wondered if he was going to have to chase the guy down to get the answer to his question. “Eddie! What went live?”

  “Callie and Jake’s video.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lita stared at her phone.

  This couldn’t be real. There was no way this could be accurate. She had the alerts set on her phone to notify her when new stories went live on her site, but this one had to be wrong. She hadn’t sent in the final cut of Callie and Jake’s video, it wouldn’t be finished until the wedding was over, and they were on their honeymoon. And most importantly, she hadn’t sent in the fucking video. So why was her site posting that the exclusive video was now available for viewing?

  She slid a glance toward Callie sitting on the couch in between Jake and Lori, laughing over some stupid thing that happened at the rehearsal earlier today. The bride had been in a good place all day, leaving the cares of the press behind her as if the closer the wedding got, the more bulletproof she became.

  Lita hoped that was true, because her stomach fell into her stilettos as she imagined what this video was going to do to her. The headlines said it all: Callie a basket case days before the wedding as she and Jake fight.

  Shit.

  Lita’s site wasn’t a tabloid rag, but Russ knew when to dabble in the sleazy end of the pond, and this was one of those times.

  She needed to get out of here and take a peek at that video before anyone else saw it. She’d be able to prepare Callie and Jake, to explain if she had to. Damage control.

  Lita made her way to the door of the living room, prepared to sneak back up to Rocky’s room and grab her computer. Maybe he’d be there, and they could watch it together and figure out the best way to handle this with Callie and Jake. They’d been an amazing team dealing with his own situation with his father, and this would be another hurdle they could overcome together.

  “Hey, baby. Where are you going?” Rocky appeared in the doorway, and before he could react, she was pulled into his arms and against his hard chest. He pressed a kiss against her hair as his arms tightened around her and kept her from leaving the room. “Eddie was looking for you. He gave me the video on a thumb drive.”

  Lita pulled back from his embrace, trying to stop him from what she knew he was going to do next.

  “Wait, Rocky—”

  He didn’t even hear her, continuing to take away her only chance to create a game plan.

  “Callie and Jake. Lita posted the video already, and I’ve got it if you want to take a look.”

  The last thing she wanted was to premiere it in front of an audience. She wasn’t going to get her wish as Callie, Jake, Dash, Lori, Laz, and Syd all jockeyed for seats in front of the flat screen like this was the must-see movie of the year.

  “Rocky, everybody, I haven’t even seen this version yet. I have no idea what it’s going to be like,” she said, hoping to gain a little more time. “Why don’t I check it out first, and then we can make some popcorn and take a look at it later.”

  “Eddie said it was the final edit,” Dash said with a grin, obviously thinking he was being helpful. “And he said it was live right now.”

  “What?” Callie twisted in her seat, shock making her eyes wide with surprise and excitement. “Lita, I thought you were going to wait until after the wedding! Don’t tell me that you aren’t going to cover the big day?”

  Lita just stared at her, unable to think of a thing to say that wasn’t going to come back and bite her in the ass in about five minutes. If this video was as bad as she thought it was, they’d probably un-invite her from the wedding. She’d be lucky if they ever spoke to her again.

  Rocky finished inserting the thumb drive into the USB port on the side of the television, and Laz played with the settings on the screen from where he sat with the remote.

  Lori glanced over and paused, her formerly happy expression slipping into concern as soon as she saw Lita’s face. She glanced at Callie, and then back to Lita, her body going rigid with what she now understood was coming. Lita tried to send I’m sorry vibes across the room and braced for impact as Rocky joined her, sliding his hand into her own.

  “Fuck, babe. You’re freezing,” he said as he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He was his usual temperature, somewhere between hot and feverish, but she couldn’t absorb any of his heat. The cold apprehension in her veins, running in a current under her skin, blocked any comfort she might have found in his arms.

  Please forgive me. Give me a chance to explain. The prayer looped round and round in her head as the opening sequence of shots opened on the screen, her own voice narrating the train wreck that unfolded in all its HD glory. And it was a disaster. Each scene led to one that was worse and then melted into a subsequent one that topped them both on the scale of horror. Every shot was edited to make Callie look unstable, uncertain, and desperate to keep a man who really didn’t love her. Jake was portrayed as the playboy rocker who couldn’t settle down with one woman if the life of a small child depended on it. It all built and swelled into the tumultuous moment when Callie and Jake rounded off on each other during the fight at the end of tequila night.

  And through the whole thing, her voice told a story that was originally recorded to tell the opposite story, but now appeared to support every ugly innuendo of the footage. If a picture told a thousand words, then the combination of live images and her storyboard made each word carry the weight of an entire Encyclopedia Britannica.

  It finally ended. The entire eight-minute segment had felt like an eternity. The silence that followed was as deep and impenetrable as a black hole. Rocky’s arm felt like a weight around her hips and with her legs resembling wet noodles. She wondered if she would be able to remain standing under what was surely to come.

  The sound of Callie weeping was the thing that broke the quiet.

  “What the fuck was that?” Jake growled from where he sat with his fiancé crying on his shoulder. He looked sideways
at her from over his shoulder, but Lita felt his wrath as if it were a direct hit.

  “Let me explain, ” she said, but Jake cut her off.

  “I don’t know how the fuck you can explain that,” he spat out while he pointed at the screen as if anyone in the room had any trouble understanding what he was referring to. “What the fuck, Lita?”

  “Jake, you need to back off,” Rocky said, and the tension in the room cranked up like the humidity in Alabama in August.

  “Hey, guys.” Dash stood, hands outstretched as he tried to play peacemaker. “I’m sure Lita can explain all of it.”

  She could have kissed him at that moment, but the sounds of Callie’s muffled tears tamped the small flare of relief. Lori, Laz, and Sydney just stared, their expressions a mix of appalled shock and confusion.

  Lori spoke up, her voice small and rough as she glanced at her weeping sister. “Lita, how could you let that happen? How could you be any part of that?”

  Oh. That hurt coming from Lori. She tried to remind herself that they were all in shock, that people reacted poorly from emotion before they had time to absorb it. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with angry subjects of her stories, but these were more than subjects— these people were her friends. She swallowed and tried to find the right place to start.

  “That isn’t the video I created.” No. That wasn’t quite right. “I mean, it wasn’t the way I meant it to be.”

  “So you did make that piece of shit?” Jake asked. “Because I think I heard your voice on the tape.” He didn’t even take a breath for her to answer him, rolling into his next set of questions. “We give you full access, and that’s what you do with it?”

  “It is partially what I created. Russ didn’t like my first version, and he told me to add more stuff in about the way you guys started. To up the drama a little bit. I did, but it was nothing like that.” She reached a hand out to them, making contact with every stricken look in the room. “I would never betray you like that. I would never do a piece like that about anyone.”