Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

by Chase, Deanna

  She picked up on his unease and threw it back at him. Gone was the quiet listener from the other night. In her place stood a mirror reflecting the cold, hard truth. “No, you’ve told me that you were able to write music that got you to Tin Lily without ever touching heroin, and that you were a dumbass for trying whatever he offered you.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone.”

  “He’s gone because he was a selfish asshole who only thought of himself.”

  Her accusation touched a nerve in him, and he curled his fingers into his palms. How many times had he thought the exact same thing over the last month? And yet, he felt obligated to defend Ty. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that.”

  “Some best friend. Let me guess—he was the one who gave you wings?”

  His spine grew ramrod straight with annoyance. “Shut up, Bec.”

  But she didn’t back down. Even though she never touched him, she stripped away his defenses. “Did you get sick to your stomach when he sank the needle into your vein? Did you cry like a baby from the head rush?”

  His voice rose to a growl. “Shut. Up.”

  “Why did you do it, Ethan? Were you so desperate for his approval that you agreed to do anything he suggested? I bet he laughed his ass off when you were so high you couldn’t even get up to take a piss.”

  Each question inched his anger level up a notch not because she was wrong, but because she was right. His temples throbbed with boiling rage that exploded with him shouting, “I said shut the fuck up.”

  As soon as he saw people around them staring at him, the blood rushed from his head, leaving a chill of fear behind. Jesus, he was cracking up. He staggered back a few steps before he turned around and headed back toward the city.

  “Ethan, wait!” The click of her high heels on the pavers told him she was following him, but he refused to look back. “I’m sorry.”

  He drew to a stop and spun around, pointing his finger at her. “You have some nerve.”

  “Why? Because you’re too chickenshit to hear the truth?”

  His head started pounding again, this time from the storm of emotions raging inside. He squeezed his temples between his palms, willing it to stop, but the chaos grew stronger. Memories mixed with the craving and blurred his idea of reality until he felt like he was falling into a bottomless abyss.

  “Let’s sit down,” a calm voice said over the noise in his head, followed by a gentle touch.

  His feet stumbled in the direction she steered him, and he didn’t resist when she guided him down to one of the nearby benches. The cool metal soothed him like ice on a bruise, but what finally brought some semblance of peace was the small hand that held his. The world came back into focus.

  Becca squatted in front of him, worry tugging down the corners of her mouth. “Did I push you too far?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice still raw from everything she’d unearthed.

  “I only did it to help. I had to do something to erase the rosy glow you associated with getting high. I had to make you see the evil side of it, too. Until you come face to face with the truth, you can never move forward.”

  He stared at her hand in his, wondering how she could touch him after learning so much about him. And yet the small gesture was a lifeline that was keeping him from drowning in his guilt and anger.

  He filed through the past five years, taking each turning point and putting it in perspective. And when he reached the end, he said, “I wish I’d had the balls to tell him no.”

  She ran her thumb over the top of his hand, returning once again to the quiet listener.

  He pulled up his sleeve to show her the tattoo with Ty’s name. “I wish I’d said something sooner. Looking back, there were so many times I saw things getting out of control, and if I hadn’t been so scared that I’d ruin our friendship and the band by speaking up…”

  His eyes burned, and he blinked back the tears. She’d managed to rip him to the core, but he wasn’t ready to cry in front of everyone on the pier. The emptiness gnawed at his chest. “There are just so many things I wish I’d done differently.”

  She nodded and cupped his cheek in her other hand.

  This time, he allowed himself to savor the comfort she offered. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. In and out, he matched her meditative breaths. Within a minute, his pulse had returned to normal, and the tension in his muscles unraveled. “Thanks, Bec.”

  “I’m not finished.”

  His gut clenched, and he pulled back. She’d already managed to send him to his private hell and brought him back. What more did she have in store?

  Her grip held firm around his hand as she rose. “Come with me.”

  She led him back to the end of the pier, holding his hand the entire time. When they reached the railing, she pulled out a plastic bag of breadcrumbs from her coat pocket. “Here, take some of these.”

  Confusion replaced his trepidation. “Are we going to feed the pigeons or something?”

  “No, we’re going to have our own little Tashlich.” She poured some of the crumbs into his palm before grabbing a handful for herself. “It’s a Rosh Hashanah tradition. Every year after morning services, we go to a river and sprinkle these crumbs into the water.”

  She demonstrated it to him with a pinch of the crumbs. “At the beginning of the new year, we cast off all our sins from the prior year. These crumbs are meant to represent all our faults, our shortcomings, our mistakes. And one by one, we rid ourselves of that burden while asking for forgiveness so we can start over and become better people.”

  She emptied out her palm and turned to him. “Now it’s your turn. Let go of the anger, the guilt, the regret so you can move forward.”

  At first, he wanted to laugh and tell her that sprinkling bread crumbs into the Hudson wouldn’t cure him of the emptiness inside, but with every pinch, his mood lightened. He couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t correct his mistakes. And he couldn’t bring Ty back.

  But he could move forward.

  His palm was empty before he realized it. “Got some more?”

  “Absolutely.” She handed over the bag.

  “Good, because I have a whole lot of shit to get off my back.” He tipped the bag over and shook it until the very last crumb fell into the water. Then he watched them flow away while holding her hand.

  “Feeling better?” she asked.

  He rubbed his chest, noting how the hollowness inside seemed smaller than before. “Yeah.”

  “Good.” She stepped back from the railing. “Ready to go?”

  He nodded, but there was one more thing he needed to do. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the bag of heroin Ace had given him last night. “I don’t need this anymore.”

  He hurled it out into the Hudson. The breeze caught it and whipped it into a few dizzying circles before it hit the water and finally sank beneath the waves.

  “If we hear reports of a massive number of fish washing up on shore, we know who to blame,” she teased, but the admiration in her eyes replaced the emptiness he’d harbored inside with a warm glow.

  He wanted her to always look at him that way. He wanted to be a man she could be proud of.

  She took his hand again as though they were on a date rather than a crisis intervention. “So, do you have any plans for the evening?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Want to come over to my place?” The blood rushed to his dick at her invitation, but his desire was quickly tempered when she continued, “My roommate and I are having a Rosh Hashanah party with our friends.”

  As tempting as it sounded, something in him hesitated. She was willing to tear down the shield of anonymity by bringing him into her personal life, and that opened the door to all types of possibilities, both good and bad. “I’m not Jewish.”

&n
bsp; “We’ll let that one slide.”

  “Listen, Bec, I appreciate the invitation, but—”

  She stopped and turned to him. “But what?”

  Indecision paralyzed his tongue. He enjoyed Becca’s company. Probably more than he should, considering relationships were discouraged this early in the recovery process. And the attraction was undeniable. But if he took things too far, presumed too much, he risked losing her support. And he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if one of the guests recognized him.

  He rubbed the back of his head. “I—”

  “It’s just my friends, Ethan. We’re going to dance, play a few games, eat some food, and have a good time. No pressure.” She lowered her voice and added, “And no worries. They respect my privacy, and they’ll respect yours.”

  Suspicion snaked down his spine. It wasn’t the first time she’d hinted that she knew who he was. “So I won’t have to worry about ending up on TMZ?”

  She grinned and shook her head. “Now, of course, what happens when you leave my place is a different story, but my friends are cool.”

  He almost wanted to laugh at how normal it sounded. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d hung out with regular people his own age. “Maybe just for an hour or two.”

  “Brilliant!” She looped her arm through his, pressing up against him. “Did you bring your bike?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any chance you’d let me drive it?”

  He let out an honest, heartfelt laugh. “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so.” She gave him a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll have to ride bitch again.”

  He liked the idea of her riding behind him. Maybe he would even throw in some extra speed around the turns so she’d gasp and hold on even tighter to him. He handed her his spare helmet when they got to his motorcycle. “Where to?”

  “Park and 75th.”

  “Upscale neighborhood.” He donned his gloves and started the engine.

  “Of course. Old money and all that.” She climbed on behind him, her dress rising to expose most of her thighs.

  His pants grew uncomfortably tight. Maybe he wouldn’t go so fast around those turns if he wanted to be able to walk without an obvious hard-on when they got there.

  Just as he was about to strap on his helmet, she tapped his shoulder. “Oh, by the way, we need to stop and pick up some challah.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As they rode through the streets, he reflected on all the new emotions he was experiencing. Trust. Relief. Desire. Hope. So very different than when he’d arrived at the pier an hour before. And he owed it all to Becca.

  But as they got closer to her place, a new goal replaced just staying clean. He was making a fresh start, and if he was lucky, maybe she’d begin to see him as something other than a recovering junkie who needed her help.

  Maybe she’d begin to see him as a man worthy of her attention.

  Chapter Six

  Becca hopped off Ethan’s bike and shivered. The ride had left her bare legs cold and numb, but the excitement of holding him as he expertly weaved his way through the traffic more than made up for it. “That was awesome!”

  He turned off the engine and removed his helmet. “If you like my Ducati so much, why don’t you just buy one?”

  “Um, it’s not that simple.” She didn’t want to explain that when she’d cut her parents out of her life, they’d cut her off financially. Sure, she had a trust fund, but she didn’t have access to it until she was twenty-five, thanks in part to her history of addiction. That meant any future Ducati purchases were on hold for another two years.

  “I’ll be happy to give you a ride whenever you’d like, then.”

  A flush of heat rose up her neck into her cheeks. After all the crap she put him through, he was still being generous with her. It had been a dangerous move to switch tactics on him, to turn his pity party into a finger-pointing session. He could’ve told her to fuck off and walked away. But when he’d shown her those packets of heroin, she knew drastic measures were needed.

  She offered a small prayer of thanks that it had worked.

  And the change was remarkable, even after such a short time. The light had returned to his gray eyes, and his mouth curved more readily into a smile than a scowl. In fact, he was downright sexy.

  Cool your jets, Becca. You just brought him back from the brink of disaster. Wait until he’s stable before making a move on him.

  She pulled the doughnut she’d picked up at the bakery out of her purse and gave it to the doorman. “Shanah Tovah, Stan.”

  “And Happy New Year to you, Miss Rebecca.” He held the door open for her and Ethan. “Miss Ariella already has a few guests.”

  “Which means I’m a bit late.” She pushed the up button for the elevator. “I’ll probably get dragged to the kitchen as soon as we get up there.”

  Ethan’s expression remained unreadable, but the line of his shoulders stiffened. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Maybe. But if you just want to hang out, you can do that, too.”

  A flicker of unease flashed in his eyes just before the elevator doors opened.

  They got inside, and she looked up at him. “If you’re not ready for this—”

  “No, I want to do this.” He gave her a wry smile. “Correction: I need to do this. I’ve been hiding under my shell too much lately.”

  She gave his hand a small squeeze. “My friends are fun. You’ll see.”

  But a small part of her hoped none of them would figure out who Ethan was and make a big deal about it. After all, they’d hung out with her and Ari’s brother, Gabe, who was a celebrity in his own right. Bringing a rock star to one of their groups shouldn’t cause that much of an uproar.

  The aromas of pomegranate glazed chicken and blackberry BBQ beef brisket greeted her when she opened the door. Aaron and Levi had already hooked up the Xbox and were so involved with their first person shooter game that they didn’t even turn around. Ari, however, rounded the corner from the kitchen and stopped short when she saw Ethan. “Who’s this?”

  “Ethan.” No need to explain any further.

  Ari’s jaw tightened, and she grabbed Becca’s arm in a death grip to drag her back into the kitchen. “Is this that junkie?” she whispered.

  “He’s clean, Ari, and I didn’t want him to be alone tonight.”

  “But he’s not one of us.”

  “So?” She peered into the living room. Aaron and Levi had paused their game long enough to start chatting with him, pointing to his helmet and probably asking about his motorcycle. A few exchanges later, Ethan had shed his jacket and was pushing up the sleeves of his gray thermal shirt, preparing to join them in the game. “He seems to be fitting in with the guys just fine.”

  “That’s because they don’t know what he is.”

  Becca took a deep breath to keep from telling Ari who he really was. It was one thing if Ethan had revealed his identity to her, but he hadn’t. And until he did, she would respect his privacy.

  “I can vouch for him, Ari. He’s a good guy.”

  Her roommate’s brown eyes darkened. “Fine, but if he steals any of our stuff to buy drugs, I’m holding you responsible.”

  The doorbell rang, and Ari went to answer it.

  Becca pressed her forehead against the cold stainless steel of the fridge. She hadn’t expected Ari to be such a snob. At least Aaron and Levi seemed open to letting Ethan join their party.

  Female voices filtered into the kitchen, and Becca took another peek into the living room. Morgan and Natalie had arrived. Gabe had always jokingly referred to Ari, Nat, and Morgan as the Bimbo Barbie Brigade, but the description fit. They were all sleek, tanned, blond, and elegant, but superficial at times. Her stomach sank as Natalie made her way over to Ethan and started flirting with him.
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br />   Of course she would. He was good-looking. And charming. And had this sexy charisma about him. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to him?

  But he smiled and then jerked his head in Becca’s direction. Natalie’s seductive smile fell into a pout, but Becca’s grin widened. He’d just made it very clear he was with her, and her heart skipped a few beats.

  She opened the fridge and grabbed the tray of sliced apples she’d prepared first thing that morning. A small bowl of honey went in the center before she carried it out into the room. “Who’s ready for the first course?”

  The guys paused their game, and everyone gathered around her to grab an apple slice and dip it in the honey. Ethan was the last one to take a slice. He watched the others before following their example. “It’s good,” he said after the first bite. “I’d always wondered why you serve apples and honey, though.”

  Morgan backed away, her perfect nose wrinkling. “You’re a shegetz?”

  “Um, maybe?” He turned to Becca for assistance.

  “He’s not Jewish,” she told the others, “but he’s still cool.”

  “Hey, no one’s perfect,” Levi replied between stuffing more apple slices in his mouth. “Well, except for me.”

  The group broke out in chuckles and snickers, and Aaron gave Levi a playful shove. Levi’s narcissism was a common joke among them, but it took the focus off Ethan. They all broke away, leaving him with her.

  He closed the space between them, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly tone that oozed sex. “So I’m cool, huh?”

  “Yeah, even though you have a dribble of honey on your chin.” She grabbed it with her finger and wiped it up.

  He caught her hand and brought her finger to his lips, removing the honey with a slow, sensual suck that left the place between her legs wet with want. “Pretty sweet stuff.”

  If he kept talking to her like that, she’d be dragging him to her bed before the next course was served. Keep it together, Becca. Focus on something other than how much he’s turning you on. “That’s the whole idea behind Rosh Hashanah dinner. A sweet new year.”