Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Summers, Eden

  “I can hang around—” The ring of his cell stopped him short. “Sorry.” He pulled the device from his jeans pocket. “I better check in case it’s my lawyer.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  Ryan scanned his screen. “It’s Felicity. Do you mind if I take it?”

  Another pang was squashed with Hulk precision. “Of course.” She side-stepped to give him privacy but he gripped her around the elbow, stopping her progression.

  “Stay,” he mouthed, before greeting Felicity with a friendly, “Hey.”

  There was a beat of silence, then, “What’s wrong?”

  The pangs kept coming, the tiny stabs of envy peppering her internal organs. She smiled through the assault, the curve of lips turning into a snarl as she met Mason’s knowing gaze.

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” Ryan disconnected the call and pocketed the cell.

  “You’ve gotta go?”

  “Yeah. Something’s up.” There he went with another one of those apology-riddled glances. “We’ll talk later?”

  “Sure.”

  He stepped into her, curving his arm around her waist while he placed an excruciating kiss at her temple. She should’ve backed away. Instead, she found herself melting into him, sucking him deep into her lungs. His aftershave was rich, still prominent over the scent of sweat. But there was also the taint of alcohol, the briefest hint of scotch on his breath.

  This was her fault. She hadn’t been there for him. Couldn’t be.

  “Life has been tough on you lately.” She slid out of reach, freeing herself from his heavenly arms. “Are you coping?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” His smile was halfhearted. “I’m living the dream.”

  “Don’t placate me. Are you OK or not?”

  His puff of laughter was callous. “Are you asking as my long-lost best friend or my band manager?”

  She didn’t know how to answer. He needed a friend and she needed distance. She no longer knew who to protect. “I can smell alcohol, Ryan. I’m worried about you.”

  “Worried enough to stop hiding from me?”

  She swallowed over the confidence in his heated stare. “I…”

  He waited, the seconds ticking by as her words remained tightly locked in her chest. “Fine. You want an answer? I’ll give you two. First, to my band manager—I’ll be honest and say it was one drink over breakfast. The girls were having Bloody Marys so I joined them with a scotch. No big deal.” He shrugged. “The second response is for the friend I lost—you want to know how I’m coping with a divorce, a tour, and the bullshit of a morally crippling publicity stunt? Come find me tomorrow and we’ll talk this out.”

  She clenched her jaw tight, caught between the role she wanted to play and the position she needed to maintain. It didn’t help that she was focusing on one sentence. One word—tomorrow. Because clearly today was dedicated to Felicity.

  “What time?” She breathed through the nerves in her belly, willing them not to take hold.

  His expression relaxed, his tight brows falling to frame softer eyes. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”

  “OK.” She inclined her head, her heart in her throat, her ovaries somewhere in her chest cavity. “Tomorrow, then.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan kept looking over his shoulder, wishing he could drop everything to grasp the opportunity to speak to Leah. Tomorrow was a lifetime away, but obligation had his feet moving forward.

  He was fading away from Reckless. All his friends had new relationships to focus on. They had calls and FaceTime and texts to deal with. They were immersed in their own lives and had no time for him.

  Felicity and Hannah were growing to be his only companions. When they weren’t traveling from city to city on the sleeper bus, they were in his suite, keeping him up until the early hours with their giggling and mumbled words from his bed while he slept on the sofa or fold out. The two women had a friendship that reminded him of what he previously had with Leah. A connection riddled with private jokes and uncanny intuition.

  He felt obliged to come running when they needed his help. Being needed at all was a bonus when his world seemed to be turning against him.

  His cell rang again, Felicity’s name displaying on his screen.

  “How far away are you?” Her voice was panicked, even more than it had been two minutes ago.

  “I’m in the hall leading to your dressing room. Open the door and I’ll be there.”

  The whoosh of air sounded up ahead, her head then peeking into the hall. She was pale, one hand gripping the door while the other latched onto the frame.

  “Has something happened?”

  “Nothing new, but we need to talk.”

  She backed into the room, opening the door wide to let him in. He followed, jutting his chin in greeting at Hannah who sat on the make-up counter, her hands clutching the wood beneath her, her back to the mirror.

  “Spill.” He eyed them both, back and forth as they stared at one another. They gave him nothing. No words. No expressions. Just overwhelming amounts of apprehension. “You’re not going to tell me you’re gay, are you?” he joked, even adding a chuckle to his voice to lighten the mood.

  Neither of them laughed.

  “Flick?” His pulse increased. The static in his head, too.

  She met his gaze with a wince, then focused back on Hannah.

  Oh, no. Hell, no.

  He turned to Hannah, her fingers now holding the bench with a white-knuckled grip.

  “You’re gay?”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  Bam. That sucker punch hit him in the gut, almost buckling him. Gay wasn’t good. Not from his perspective. Not when they were trying to convince the world they were happily heterosexual.

  “We’ve been together for almost a year.”

  Ba-bam. This verbal swing landed lower, right between the thighs with emasculating effects.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Why now, when he no longer had the ability to save himself from the social media backlash?

  Felicity came up beside him, her gaze pleading. “Hannah’s been struggling to watch us from the sidelines. We’ve been fighting about it for weeks. We hoped telling you, and getting her involved, might make things easier.”

  He stepped back, needing space as he scowled through the mess otherwise known as his life. “What does that even mean?” How had he missed all the signs? Christ. They’d shared his bed for the last week and he still hadn’t noticed. “Fuck me.”

  He’d never been one to curse unnecessarily, but right now he wanted to shout expletives until he was diagnosed with Tourette’s. He was going to go on a fuck-a-thon, otherwise it would be a drink-a-thon and Leah was already on his back about liquor.

  He couldn’t catch a break. He couldn’t even catch his breath through the ongoing carnage.

  “Why are you angry?” Felicity went to Hannah’s side, the two of them huddling close.

  “Why?” He started to pace, running his fingers through his hair and tugging on the strands in the hopes the pain would create clarity. “Have you looked at this from my perspective? Have you spared a thought on how brutal the media and public will be on a guy who couldn’t satisfy his wife, then hooked up with someone else months later, only to turn her gay?”

  “You didn’t turn me.”

  “Does anyone else know that?” He spread his arms wide. “Because Leah did a thorough check on you and certainly didn’t come up with the pussy preference.”

  They balked and he couldn’t tell if it was from his word choice or his callous tone.

  “I’ll be forever known as the guy who turns women gay.” If not publicly, he sure as shit wouldn’t come out unscathed once his friends found out. “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  He glared at her, resenting the confusion in her voice.

  “Scott swore me to secrecy—”

  The world stopped, alarm bells rang, and guilt suddenly lessened the anger. “Scott?
”

  “Sex sells,” she blurted. “But apparently not when you’re gay. He’s the reason we’re in this mess. We went to him with the information at the start of the tour in the hopes of coming out with a big bang. It didn’t take long to realize he was homophobic.”

  Mother. Fucker.

  “This publicity stunt wasn’t purely about boosting your popularity, was it?” He dragged his feet to the counter and rested his ass against the cold wood. “He did this to hide your sexuality.”

  They both nodded, remaining silent as he focused on the carpeted floor. He felt like a dick. An inadequate, non-functioning, STD-riddled dick. All their muttered arguments made sense now. All the glances that held hidden meaning and the times Hannah had demanded every last detail on the dates he had with Felicity.

  “I’ve always been gay. Flick, on the other hand, is bi. She has more experience with men,” Hannah murmured. “And I know you thought I was being petty about her getting more media attention, but that was never the case. The attention that worried me was from you.”

  He hung his head and wiped a hand over his face. “You were never anxious about being with me.” He tilted his head and focused on Felicity. “You were worried you’d upset Hannah.”

  Felicity nodded. “Neither of us wanted this. We had no choice. Scott made it clear our next album wouldn’t see the light of day if we came out.”

  He scoffed. “And Scott always gets what he wants.” The bastard had a knack for manipulation.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan.” Felicity walked toward him and nestled against his hip, wrapping her arms around him.

  “Me, too.” Hannah scooted from the counter and came to his other side to do the same. “We didn’t spare much thought on how this would affect you.” Her head rested against his chest, four arms holding him tight, two bodies keeping him warm.

  “How do we make this right?” He spoke into her hair and wished he had the ability to fix this. But how could he when he couldn’t even finalize his divorce or rectify his friendship with Leah?

  “Don’t worry about it.” Hannah stepped back. “I’ll get over it.”

  “No.” He shook his head, his frown now cemented in place. “You said you wanted to get involved. What did you have in mind?”

  She sighed, her glazed eyes blinking away unshed tears. “I want to be with you guys when you go on dates. I don’t want to be constantly worried about Flick falling for yo—”

  “She’s not going to fall for me.”

  “Ryan, I don’t think you realize how perfect you are. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman. You always put yourself last, have never, ever acted sleazy, and you’re kinda gorgeous.” She gave him a half-hearted grin. “If you had a kitty, I’d be all up in that.”

  He spat out a laugh and wished he could hold onto the humor as it fled his system. “I’m done with being the good guy. It’s starting to feel like an excuse instead of a moral compass. So let’s shake things up a bit.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that?” Felicity straightened. “Nobody can find out I’m with Hannah.”

  “They won’t.” If Scott could play dirty, they could, too. It was time to stop being nice. “Grander wants a scandal. Let’s give them a something they won’t forget in a hurry.”

  Chapter Eight

  Cincinnati, OH

  “A threesome? On stage? Really?” Leah’s voice rose in the empty silence as she stared at her computer screen and contemplated the need to run to the bathroom to retch. The video before her was from last night’s performance. The crystal clear visual featured on the Rockin’ Gossip website. Ryan was front and center on the Reckless stage, while Felicity and Hannah rubbed up against him, dry humping his thighs, clawing his shirt.

  She had to give him props, though. He continued to play effortlessly through the duration, not losing his feel for the music even when Felicity kissed him on the cheek and then proceeded to saunter toward Mason to help him finish singing the song.

  It was a phase. A juncture.

  Sean said she had nothing to worry about. He’d promised. But Ryan had been committed to Julie for a long time. An outburst of sexual frustration was inevitable. An explosion of testosterone and lust had always been in the cards, and Leah had been destined to have a front row seat.

  A knock sounded on her door, then the deep drawl of Mason’s voice. “Open up, woman.”

  Perfect. A punching bag was exactly what she needed.

  “What?” She yanked the door open with a snarl.

  “Good afternoon to you, too, sweetie.” He beamed a smile as his wavy hair tempted her to pull it from his unnaturally gorgeous head. “You always know how to make me feel special.”

  “Are you here to apologize for yesterday?”

  His lips turned downward and he shook his head. “Nope.”

  She made to slam the door but he stopped the progression with his palm. He nudged into her room, assuming ownership, and made her suite his castle.

  “What ya looking at?” He focused on her laptop sitting on the small kitchenette counter and pressed play.

  “Apparently, it’s Ryan instigating a live ménage.”

  Mason snorted. “Slight exaggeration.”

  “Do you still think that’s normal behavior?”

  “Who cares about normal? He was having fun.”

  “And so were you. I bet Sidney was happy to see you arm in arm with Ryan’s not-so-fake girlfriend.”

  He nodded, his face contemplative as the silenced video continued to play in a loop. “She knows it was innocent, and that I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship.” He made the two steps to her bed and sat on the edge. “She was also on the first flight out of New York just to make sure. ETA twenty minutes.”

  Leah smirked. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Don’t pull the woman-code card. Sidney knows that no one else will ever compare to her. All that video did was give her an excuse to come here and get fucked into submission.”

  Leah closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t mention your sex life in front of me again.”

  “Jealous?”

  She glared. “No, I actually strive to have a healthy love life of my own one day, and I don’t want to ever, ever have the unsightly images of you in my head.”

  “I’m sure losing me as a potential husband candidate will haunt you ‘til your dying day.”

  “Get out.” She pointed toward the door. “Just go.”

  “How ’bout we reroute the conversation back to Ryan instead?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “You need to talk to him.”

  “I plan on it. We already spoke about catching up today. I’m merely waiting for his call.”

  “But you only have plans to talk about him. Not you.” He lost the smug expression. “I know I’m an asshole most of the time, but I hate seeing you like this. When you look at him, we all get an insider’s guide to the shit going through your head. We know how much you’re swooning over him.”

  There were no words this time, only another adamant point of her finger toward the door.

  “Don’t play dumb, Leah. We’ve got your back on this.”

  No, they didn’t. She was on her own. Always had been. Reckless Beat were a team. The five of them family. Yes, she had her own place within the hierarchy, but essentially, it was her job on the line if she breached the terms of her management contract. They wouldn’t lose sales. Their fan base wouldn’t even hear about her departure. The five of them would carry on, living the dream, while she lost everything.

  “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

  “Tell him you love him and all that shit.”

  “Get the fuck out.” She jabbed her finger toward the door hard enough to hurt her shoulder. “I don’t have time for you right now.”

  “I’m not moving.” He reiterated the statement by lying back on the bed, hands behind his head. “I honestly
thought the two of you would be a sure thing after that kiss. He was all broody and you were all meek and kittenish. It was a recipe for rough and dirty sex.”

  “I was not meek.”

  “Looked that way to us.” He shrugged. “We finally thought you’d ditch the puppy dog eyes and latch on with both claws.”

  He was goading her, pushing, poking, so damn close to succeeding.

  “You finished?” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down.

  “You ready to talk to him?”

  She swung around and closed her laptop, prepared to ignore him for as long as possible. They’d only arrived in Cincinnati thirty minutes ago. Her bag was still packed and sitting beside the door. She needed to wash the sludge of travel from her skin and the tiredness from her eyes.

  “I’ve got things to do. Including getting showered and ready for public consumption.” She reached for the top button of her blouse and undid it, exposing cleavage.

  “Go for it.” He watched her, zero interest in his arrogant eyes. “I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

  “I’m undressing, Mason.” She released another button, playing a game of chicken she was no longer confident of winning. “Sidney will kick your ass if she finds out you’re here.”

  “Don’t go assuming anything about Sid. She’d do anything for Ryan if given the chance.”

  “Really? She’s on her way here because you got close with another singer on stage. Do you really think she’s not going to care if you see me naked?”

  “Seen it all before. You’re just another one of the guys.”

  “Except for the double-Ds and vagina.” She skipped the money-shot button and descended to the bottom of the blouse, flicking another open. “You know I’ll tell her.” She slowed her progression, running out of options.

  “Do you mind if I take video?” He wove a hand from behind his head and reached down to dig his cell from his pants pocket. “Ryan might appreciate a bird’s eye view of what he’s missing.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mason.” Stubborn, arrogant prick. “Get the hell out.”

  He chuckled. “I will when you admit you love him.”