Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

by Chase, Deanna

  Take my hand now, baby

  Don’t be afraid to meet me halfway

  Take that one last step, baby

  And meet me halfway

  Everything Cadan and I experience when we sing together is amplified to the audience, even when we don’t intend it to be. Most say it’s a mind-blowing experience that’s like a natural drug. It’s what makes our concerts sell out in less than three minutes when they go on sale. Or when they used to go on sale, before I left.

  I abruptly clamp my mouth shut and ignore the pleas from the bar patrons.

  “Luce,” Cadan says, his eyes pleading. “Can we talk?”

  I shake my head. “Now’s not the time.”

  “Please, love. There are things I need to say.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I try to snap at him, but it comes off as weak, like I don’t mean it. Sadness immediately replaces all the music-filled places in my heart.

  He holds his hand out to me, his expression understanding. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Just a few minutes and I’ll let you be. I promise.”

  I meet his eyes and see the person I met three years ago. The one I knew before the record deals. Before he was the rock god everyone catered to. None of our bandmates or roadies are here. No managers, no handlers, no one. It’s just me and him. He does nothing to hide the vulnerability written all over his face, and it nearly breaks me. As much as I hate him, I still love him. I will always love him. And no matter how far I go, no matter how much distance is between us, it will never go away. It’s at the core of me.

  Reaching out, I close my eyes as I slip my hand in his. His fingers are warm and clasp protectively around mine—gentle, yet firm. My traitorous body longs to be near him, to be touched by him, but my heart is breaking with the bittersweet reality of what lies between us.

  He tucks my hand between both of his, holding on as if I’m someone to be cherished and protected. The way he hasn’t held me in months.

  “Lucy?” Mike says. His hands are fisted and he’s casting murderous glances in Cadan’s direction.

  “What is it?” I ask him.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? Talk to him, I mean?” His tone implies he thinks I should run in the other direction. He’s right. I should. It’s what I’ve been doing. But it’s also clear Cadan isn’t going to go away until he’s had his say.

  I nod, fighting back tears. This is something I have to do.

  “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” I choke out, overwhelmed by his concern, and then force myself to step closer to Cadan.

  Cadan wraps a protective arm around my shoulders and regards Mike with disdain, but he doesn’t say anything as he tugs me off to another table, one in a quieter corner where we can talk. He pulls out a chair for me and scoots his close so our shoulders are almost touching.

  After being away from him for so long, my instinct is to lean in. I stop myself and move my chair to the left, pointedly putting some distance between us. He opens his mouth to talk, but I hold up a hand, stopping him. “Whatever you do, do not start singing or I’m out of here. Got it?”

  He gives me an incredulous look as if I’ve offended him, but then he starts laughing. “Fair enough.”

  The singing is my downfall. How could it not be? That’s when I go all mushy inside. His voice is a drug to me, and when I join in, we pull everyone under with us. It’s both the most amazing and the most terrible thing that can happen to a person. When trust is broken, as mine has been over and over and over again, it’s torture to be so connected and yet not be able to give oneself over to the emotion.

  If I go there one more time, I’ll be broken. I turn swiftly so we’re facing each other and then stare him hard in the eye. “Tell me why you did it? The real reason this time.”

  “The song, you mean?”

  The fact that he has to ask makes me want to weep. I nod and finish with a sad shake of my head. “I already know why you slept with the skanks. Ego and opportunity.”

  “Luce.” He huffs out a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Neither do I. Don’t you think that’s part of the reason I’ve been avoiding you?”

  “I thought you were pissed.”

  This time I let out a humorless laugh. “I am. Honestly, Cadan, I don’t know what else there is to say.”

  The silence stretches between us. I can’t take this. His proximity wears on my resolve. I want to touch him and share an inside joke. Write songs. Sing. Dance. Do all the things that were us before he turned into a first-class bastard. I’m just about to get up and bolt when his hand slips over mine.

  Reflexively, I wind my fingers through his, wanting that connection. He’s who I’m supposed to be with. The one who’s supposed to make me whole.

  “I never apologized,” he says, regret clear in his voice. “Not really.”

  “No, you didn’t.” I stare at our joined hands. Nothing about this is right. I know it in my heart. Gently I pull away. “The thing is, Cadan, you’re not good for me. I crave these little moments. The ones that feel so right. But they’re always fleeting, and my heart is left trampled and bruised. Only the bruises never seem to fade. Not even when you’re this person, the one who is sweet and considerate. When you’re as you are now.”

  “I haven’t been with anyone since you left.” He says the words as if he hadn’t even heard what I said.

  I raise one extremely skeptical eyebrow. Jeez. The urge to punch him makes my fingers curl. “What am I supposed to say to that? Congratulations?”

  “No.” He runs a frustrated hand through his dark blond hair. It’s a little longer than it had been when I left, and honestly, it looks good. “I needed a reality check, some time to get my head on straight. You leaving made that happen. I know I fucked up. Multiple times. God, how I fucked up. The life does something to people. Makes them feel like they’re greater than they are.”

  “You mean makes you feel like you’re greater than you are. I was there, too, remember? I have fans. Guys hitting on me who’d be more than happy if I pulled them backstage. Yet you didn’t see me fucking random people right under your nose for months on end.”

  “No? What about that guy you left with last night? Seth?” He spits his name out with utter disgust. “Jax’s friend, right?”

  What? How does he know Seth’s name? Had Jax said something in her drunken stupor? I stand and glare down at him. What I did with Seth is none of his damned business. “This conversation is over.”

  He jumps up and blocks my way. “Wait. Jesus. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You’re right. I was a total self-indulgent asshole.”

  “Was?” I say, totally put off by his accusation. After I’d caught him red-handed, the truth had come out. He’d been sleeping around on me for months.

  “Hey, I bailed on the tour. I’m here. Trying.”

  I refrain from rolling my eyes. Though I understand that for him, there is no bigger gesture. He lives for the tour, for the audience.

  “I’m not the same without you, Luce. Everything means less. You gotta give me a second chance.”

  He seems so sincere, so lost, that I sit back down. But I don’t know what to say. I can’t give him what he needs. Not without losing myself.

  Relief washes over his features as he settles in next to me again. “What can I do to make it up to you? To earn your trust again?”

  “You can start by telling the label that song is mine.” The anger and disappointment I’d been carrying around all these months floods my senses. He’d hurt me more than he knew by cheating, but when he stole my song and recorded it without me, he’d taken a piece of my heart that belonged to my dad. I couldn’t forgive what he’d done. Not unless he made it right. “I want it back. Then we’ll talk.”

  “I’ve already told them,” he says softly.

 
My heart starts to pound, and I’m sure I haven’t heard him correctly. “You did?”

  He nods.

  “And?” What if they didn’t care? Was it lost to me forever?

  “They want you to come in and record it.”

  Shit. I was afraid of that. I stand again, ready to leave. “I can’t do that. I can’t sing with you. Not while things are like they are. And not that song. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

  As I turn to go he says, “Luce, they want you to record a solo version of it.”

  I freeze. When I’d left, the label had been less than happy. I’d offered to do a solo album, but they’d told my agent something about me not having the stage presence for a solo act. Now, since I ditched the tour, I’m in breach of contract. It doesn’t make for a pleasant negotiation process.

  But if what he says is true, I have a chance to rectify that with a song that means the world to me. “Since when?”

  “Since I told them you wrote it. They’re pretty pissed I took credit for it.”

  “Why? Why did you tell them?” But I already know the real answer. He did it because the label is going to drop him anyway if I don’t come back. The Cadan I know would never sacrifice his career by owning up to anything.

  “Because, Lucy…” He grabs my hand and presses it to his heart. “I love you. Like I said, nothing’s the same. I miss sharing the stage with you. I miss you. It turns out it means little without you by my side.”

  He’s saying everything I’ve ever wanted to hear. Hope blossoms in my chest, but I’m not convinced. I probably never will be. “And what if I say no? What if I never come back? You risked your career for me.”

  He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they’re filled with pain. “It’s a chance I had to take. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t make this right.”

  I can tell this is tearing him apart. He’s made big mistakes, and he seems sincere no matter what his initial motivations were. But I’ve left that lifestyle and found I’m happier staying out of the spotlight. Yes, I enjoyed performing the night before, but that was just to the local crowd. It was fun, void of any pressure from the labels and the bean counters. I’d been singing for me, not everyone else.

  I nod, accepting his explanation, even if I am still skeptical. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. Say you’ll come back with me and record your dad’s song. After that, we’ll figure it out.”

  I hesitate, wanting to say yes. Wanting to ease his suffering. It’s our soul mate connection. I can’t help it. This is the reason I’ve refused to even talk to him. Being around him makes me weak. I shake my head. “I need time to think about it.”

  The breath he’d been holding comes out in a whoosh as he stands and crushes me into a hug. “That’s better than no.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, and hug him back, tears stinging my eyes. This will never work.

  He tightens his hold on me until our bodies are pressed together. I let him, knowing full well it’ll only make saying no harder. He’s strong and familiar and everything I’d always wanted.

  Until last night happened.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Seth

  Jax pulls me through the rain into Raven’s Tavern. The first thing I notice is Mike sitting by himself at the bar. I gesture to him. “That’s strange. Mike never comes here unless he’s playing.” I scan the room for the rest of the band, but come up empty.

  That is, until I notice Lucy wrapped in the arms of that douchebag Kinx. “Fuck me.”

  “Is that an invitation?” Jax asks, laughing. “I thought we already covered that topic.”

  I all but growl and turn her shoulders until Lucy is in her sight line.

  “Aww, shit,” she whispers. “Why can’t he leave her alone?”

  “Because he’s trying to get her back,” I say, resentment burning a hole in my gut. And by the looks of it, he’s off to a better than decent start. “Let’s go.”

  “Go? Where?” Jax turns around, her eyes crinkled in confusion. “We’re not leaving her here with him.”

  “Really? Looks like she’s doing fine to me. Besides, weren’t you the one not even answering her phone calls a few hours ago?” Suddenly, I’m pissed at Jax. If she’d been there for her friend, Lucy would’ve likely been tucked into Jax’s apartment instead of standing over there plastered to the devil incarnate.

  “Hey.” Jax punches me in the arm. “Don’t get snippy with me just because you’ve fallen for her after one night of whatever you two got up to.”

  I narrow my eyes. “I have not fallen for her.”

  “Right. That’s why you spent the day in your artist’s loft instead of at the tattoo shop.” She gives me a saccharine-sweet smile and then heads off toward Lucy.

  I immediately make my way to the bar and slump down next to Mike. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since I left the shop.” He picks up a shot glass full of whiskey and downs it.

  I raise a curious eyebrow. “How many of those have you had?”

  “A few.”

  “I better catch up then.” I wave the bartender down and order a shot of my own. “Were you playing or something?”

  “Nope. Trying to convince that gorgeous brunette to become a permanent member of the band.”

  The bartender slaps the shot glass in front of me. I lift it and study the liquid sloshing against the rim. “You asked Lucy to be a member?”

  “Yep.”

  I can’t help but glance back at her. Jax has an arm around her shoulders and is dragging her away from Kinx. Good. I’ll have to send her a giant thank-you bouquet in the morning. “What did she say?” I ask Mike, nervous energy making it hard to breathe. Why do I care so much? I barely know this girl.

  It’s the art.

  That’s what I tell myself. Something about her opened up a part of me that I thought had died the night I lost E. That’s all it is. And I don’t want to lose that.

  “Nothing. Her ex showed up and lured her away before we could work anything out.”

  The bartender asks if we need anything else. We both order another round of shots.

  “So why are you drinking?” I’ve only seen Mike drunk once before. That was the night his girlfriend dumped him for his best friend. Make that ex best friend.

  “Fuck, dude.” He shakes his head. “I was just sitting there with Lucy, and we were talking about the band playing one of her songs. So she starts singing it, right?”

  “And?” I stare into the whiskey, contemplating if I really want to drink it.

  “Next thing I know, Kinx is there. And he sings the last few bars of the song with her.”

  “Okay.” Yep, I’m definitely going to need this shot.

  I pick it up, but then Mike says, “You’ve never heard anything like it, man. Or more accurate, felt anything like it. Their voices, they do shit to a person. Make you feel shit you don’t want to feel.”

  Slowly, I lower the drink to the bar. “What do you mean? I’ve heard it’s more like a shot of joy right in the arm.”

  He lets out a huff of laughter. “That’s one way of putting it. I swear they were only singing together for a few seconds, but in that time more memories than I can count came flooding back. Memories I’ve worked hard to let go of. The ones that remind you of what it’s like to give a shit.”

  His words filter through my haze and a cold dread slides down my spine. “Jesus.”

  “Yeah.” He raises his glass, salutes me, and downs the whiskey. The shot glass slams against the bar and he stands. “Do yourself a favor. Run if those two ever team up again.”

  “Headed somewhere?” I ask, trying to ignore his last remark. The thought of Lucy going back to Kinx makes me physically ill. I grit my teeth. I’m way too invested in this girl.

  “I have to get out of here.�
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  “Hey,” Jax says from behind us.

  Mike grunts at her and heads toward the door.

  “Where’s he going?” Lucy asks.

  I shrug. “Home?”

  “I’ll be right back,” she tells Jax and runs after him. Kinx watches her from his place across the room. He’s scowling, glancing back and forth between me and Mike. It takes a shit ton of effort not to head over to him and slam my fist into his nose.

  “Stop,” Jax says and waves the bartender off when he tries to pour me another drink.

  “Why? You can drive my truck.”

  “Not the alcohol, you idiot. Though you clearly don’t need any more of that tonight. I meant stop glaring at Cadan.” She turns and rests her elbows on the bar. “He’s Lucy’s mate, and she’ll decide what’s best for herself without any input from you.”

  I know she has a point. But the primal need to protect Lucy is overpowering my rational mind. “He’s a douche.”

  “I know.”

  “Does Lucy?”

  “Yes.” Jax pats my arm the way a patient mother would pat her child. “Why do you think she left his ass in the first place?”

  Lucy and Mike are standing near the door, their heads bowed as they talk. He’s a foot taller than her with jet-black hair. Even Mike would be better for her than Kinx. At least Mike respects women. He’s a serial monogamist. But his last girlfriend did a number on him when she left him for a chick.

  It’s that soul-mate connection. No one can compete with that shit.

  Lucy tugs Mike back over to where we stand at the bar. “Mike can’t drive. I’ve confiscated his keys.” She holds them up, letting them dangle in front of Jax. “Can you take him home?”