Reckless Beat Box Set #2

by Summers, Eden

  “We can figure out how to tell the guys while we’re on the road.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t look so horrified. It’ll be fine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He knew thirty minutes would be a long time for her to obsess. He even expected her text—I’m running late. I’ll have to meet you there. It was a typical Leah blueprint. Especially when he was involved. She wanted to keep her distance until she planned every single step in their path forward.

  He didn’t have time for that. She had her strategy, and he had his. Only problem was, his involved smothering her into submission. Which was why he ended up standing outside her door, waiting until she was ready to leave.

  “Damn it, Ryan. What are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting.” He started down the hall after her, hanging back a little to take in the full effect of her tight pin-skirt. “I thought you were going to be late.”

  “I am.” She glanced at her watch. “Two minutes.”

  He chuckled to himself. “You didn’t think I could wait two minutes?”

  She cleared her throat and continued to the elevator, pressing the call button harder than necessary.

  “So where are we at?” He was teasing, which again, was all part of the plan. “Have we reached the pinnacle of anxiety, or are we still waiting on a lower wing?”

  “I’m not anxious. I’m in work mode.” She entered the opening elevator, rested against the back wall and met his gaze. “I’m trying to tally up my to-do list. For example, once I reach the stadium I have to have a stern discussion with the security team about who they let on stage during performances. And then I need to chastise the rhythm guitarist about arriving late to sound check. Again.”

  “Chastise?” He entered the elevator, left barely a foot between them, and leaned in to encroach on the perfection of her personal space. “That sounds like fun.”

  Her lips twitched. “Cameras, Ryan.”

  She stared him down, the barely visible flames in her eyes making it hard to concentrate. Shit. This was harder than he thought, especially in the groin department. After a lifetime waiting to get here, he was finding it difficult to focus on anything other than kissing her. Everywhere.

  “Did you speak to Felicity?” She slid out of reach, her focus now on the elevator buttons.

  “Yeah. Not before she told Hannah, but they’re both going to keep quiet.”

  Her eyes closed briefly. “I hope we can trust them.”

  We. One word. Two letters. The statement was remarkably changing. They were a couple. At least as far as he was concerned. “We’re holding a major secret of theirs, too. They’re not going to want to risk discovery either.”

  “Fingers crossed.” The elevator doors opened and she pounded out the distance toward the lobby doors, the authoritative tap, tap, tap of her heels seeming to strengthen her. Their escort to the stadium was parked outside. The black van with tinted windows kept company by the driver and one of their security team who stood at the open back door.

  He ignored the few screamers as they walked outside and indicated for Leah to get in the back of the van before him. “Ladies first.”

  She rolled her eyes and lowered her head to climb in, giving him a phenomenal view. Normally, she sat in the front. He didn’t think she realized her mistake until he was sliding along the back seat beside her. Right beside her.

  “Would you like the window seat?” She drew out the words as if he had a learning disability.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?” She glanced down at where his thigh rubbed against hers. “Because you’re practically in it already.”

  “I’m keeping things close while I can.” He brushed his hand over hers, entwining their fingers.

  She sighed and rested her head against the window. “We need to cool it for now. I don’t even want the guys to find out until I have my bearings.”

  He couldn’t help smiling at her. He was already in freefall and she was still grappling for stability. “Sure.”

  “I’m serious, Ryan. Wipe the smirk off your face.”

  “Anything you say, boss.”

  “Stop it.” A grin pulled at her lips. “This isn’t a joke.”

  He leaned in as the van started, his mouth temptingly close to her ear. “I’m trying,” he whispered. “But I’ve gotta admit, it’s kinda hard to keep my hands off you now I’ve been given a green light.”

  She pulled her hand away. “There’s no green light.”

  He shrugged. “Then maybe I should run the red.”

  There was another kick to those gorgeous lips. “Maybe you should move over and give me a little space. We need to figure out what to tell Mason. He was there. He knows you went after me. Felicity probably told him, too.”

  He skootched away, not for her sake, but for his. The crotch of his jeans was unbearably tight. It’d been months since he’d had any sort of sexual relief. “She didn’t. He took off straight after I did, in search of Sid. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “I’d like to keep it that way.” She stared outside at the passing buildings, quiet in her contemplation.

  The rest of the ride was done in silence, the barely audible drone from the radio seeping into the back seat. She continued to watch the scenery go by, while he stared at her, trying to read what was worrying her most.

  He understood the troubles they faced. Some were bigger than others. Some external. Some emotional. Some revolved around his manhood and if it would work under the heat-of-the-moment pressure. But they were all manageable hurdles. Ones they were destined to leap, given a little practice.

  He’d give her the chance to tell people in her own time. What he couldn’t give her was space. He couldn’t even allow a two-foot buffer as they climbed from the van and made their way through the staff entrance of the stadium.

  She remained stuck in her own thoughts as they approached the sound of tuning instruments. Greeting the rest of the band wouldn’t be easy. The news of the mistaken cocaine incident would already be a hot topic, and the alone time with Leah would be up for discussion. It was all part of the process. Part of the awesomeness that being with her was shaping up to be.

  “We’ve got this,” he whispered as they entered the main stadium, Mason, Mitch, Blake, and Sean all coming into view on stage.

  She hit him with a frantic look. “Keep quiet and don’t elaborate.”

  “Sure thing.” He winked.

  She winced, probably at his enthusiastic smirk, and turned away, outpacing him on their approach.

  “Nice of you two to join us,” Mason’s amplified voice carried from all angles. “What’s with the cocksucker grin, coke sniffer?” The question echoed around the empty outdoor stadium, attracting attention from the crew.

  “Jesus Christ.” Leah stopped and glared at him. “Stop smiling.”

  He tried. Failed. He couldn’t quit the upward curve. “Can’t help it.”

  She mimicked his smile, hers threatening. “Try harder.”

  “I will,” he muttered. “I promise.” It was a lie. The roll of her eyes announced she knew it, too. There was no point fighting the pull. The grin was there to stay. Unmovable.

  She sighed and stopped three feet from the stage. “Mason, do you mind putting your immaturity on hold for a moment so I can give you all an update on the schedule?”

  “Sure thing, captain.”

  The guys came forward, Mitch and Blake taking the temporary stairs, Mason and Sean jumping to ground level.

  “I spoke to the stadium manager this morning. He wanted to make you aware of the water leak in your dressing room. Contractors will be going in and out during the day, so make sure you don’t leave any valuables in there.”

  Mason focused on him, scrutinizing, making the curve of his lips kick higher. Then it was Blake, the bass guitarist frowning in confusion.

  “Tonight’s show is sold out, along with tomorrow,” Leah continued. “The only problem we’re currently facing is the lack of s
ales for Slicker. Their social media presence is increasing, but we’re not getting the necessary traction on downloads. So if you’re online, please think about retweeting or sharing to keep this ball rolling.”

  “Can do,” Mitch offered, always the brown-noser.

  “Everything else is on schedule… Oh, except—” She held up a finger and pinned him with a chastising look. “—Please be aware of the age demographic of your fans. Lurid simulations of sex shouldn’t be part of the show.”

  He still couldn’t quit the grin. Nope. It was cemented in place. Every show was filled with some form of perversion unsuitable for teens. That wasn’t new. But this was—her jealousy. Her insecurity.

  “Speaking of sex,” Mason drawled, “are you going to fill us in on what happened earlier?”

  “Earlier?”

  He noticed the heavy contraction of her throat and couldn’t help enjoying her panic.

  “You got your panties in a twist and stormed off. I wanted a follow up on how Ryan may have untwisted them.”

  “My panties were fine, Mason. But thank you for your concern.”

  “We talked,” Ryan added. “We’re good.”

  “Seems you’re more than good.” Blake was still frowning. “What’s with the joker grin?”

  Leah shot him another for-god’s-sake glare.

  “Looks like a sex high to me,” Mitch added.

  “Bullshit.” Sean started to scrutinize him. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Could we all please focus?” Leah clapped her hands together. “Where’s Sidney? Didn’t you say she was flying in earlier?”

  “Sidney, shmidney,” Blake muttered. “I want to know why Ryan looks like he’s just blown his load.”

  Damn. The guys were determined for answers. One sniff of gossip and they were ravenous. His neck started to burn from their inspection.

  “Focus.” Leah failed to get their attention.

  “He does, doesn’t he?” Sean’s eyes narrowed. “You either got laid, or spent some time with your favorite porn site.”

  “I didn’t get laid.” He glanced to Leah for approval, for help, for any damn thing to get these assholes off their scent, but she just stood there, eyes wide, lips parted, face pale.

  “I think we’re wearing him down.” Mason snickered. “Did you get a knob job off the boss lady?”

  Leah responded with an unhealthy gasp in the lead singer’s direction. “Do I look like the type to get on my knees for any of you?”

  Mason dropped his gaze to the body parts in question. “Normally, I’d say no…”

  “Keep your voice down,” she seethed. “You’ll start rumors.”

  “You’re awfully testy.” Mitch switched his focus to Leah. “Panicked, even.”

  “The crew are waiting for you to do your job.” Her foot tapped against the temporary outdoor flooring, only adding evidence to her nervousness. “Can we save the inquisition for later?”

  There was a chorus of rejections— “No.” “I don’t think so.” “Not until we have answers.”

  “Come on, guys.” Ryan placed a comforting hand on her back and she startled.

  “We kissed, OK? Jesus Christ.” Her voice was viciously low. “Fuck the paparazzi, you guys are the real vultures.”

  Ryan froze at her admission, then did a visual sweep of the stadium to make sure nobody else overheard. Yep. All clear. When he turned back, his friends were all staring at her in disbelief.

  “Do not look at me like that.” She pointed a finger at them in turn, finishing with Mason. “This is your fault.”

  The lead singer shrugged. “I take no responsibility for your unprofessional actions.”

  She growled, the sound inappropriately sexy.

  “I’m… shocked. I thought we were all joking.” Mitch’s eyes were wide. “After all these years…”

  “Keep it down.” Ryan made sure there was a warning in his tone. “This isn’t something we want shared outside this group.”

  “This isn’t something I wanted to share with anyone,” Leah grated.

  Mitch reached for her hand, giving it a quick squeeze before he let it fall. “It’s cool. We won’t tell anyone.”

  “Congrats, guys.” Blake gave a friendly punch to Leah’s shoulder. “Took you two long enough.”

  “Don’t worry about anyone else.” Sean backtracked to the stage. “We’ll keep this quiet.”

  “Our little secret.” Mason waggled his brows.

  Then they were left alone, the world returning to normal as quickly as the carnage had erupted. But the damage had taken its toll. Leah was trembling, her invincible tenacity taking one too many hits.

  “Don’t panic.”

  Wide eyes met his. “What have I done?”

  “They were going to find out sooner or later.”

  “If this gets out—”

  “It won’t.” He pulled her into his arms and hated how she stiffened. “I’ve hugged you before. In public. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary.”

  She nodded into his neck, her arms still limp at her sides. “I should go.”

  He clung a little tighter. “Can I see you tonight?”

  “You’re not going out with Felicity?” She leaned back, wounding him with her optimism.

  “Only to make an appearance. I won’t be long.”

  “We’ll see.” She moved from his arms. “Message me when you’re done.”

  She walked away from him, her chin lifting with every step as she headed toward one of the exits. He shouldn’t leave her alone. Shouldn’t, but he also couldn’t shadow her every second of the day. Facing her anxieties was one of their hurdles. All he could do was hope she didn’t talk herself into hiding from him again.

  “Hey, Leah,” Mason’s voice carried over the microphone again, taunting. “You can thank me later.”

  Shit. Ryan also had to hope Mason put a cork in it, stat.

  She turned, a pretty smile on her face as she raised her middle finger to the sky. “Fuck you, Ron Jeremy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan pulled his hotel door shut and ran down the hall. His lesbian fake girlfriends were in his bed, probably up in each other’s ovaries by now, and he couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Leah hadn’t returned his last message and it was late. Early, actually. The quick drink at a nearby bar had turned into a two-hour chat session with Felicity and Hannah’s newly amassed fans. They hadn’t been able to get away. Four beers later, he put his foot down and said he was leaving with or without them.

  Now he was rushing toward Leah’s room, praying she wasn’t asleep as he sent one last message and then held his ear to the door to listen for movement.

  “Damn it.” She must’ve passed out.

  He stared down the empty hall, arguing with himself over whether he should leave her be, or break the door down. Eventually, he chose a middle ground and rapped his knuckles gently against the wood.

  Her throat cleared from inside, the sound sailing through his chest to nail him with arrhythmia. Every breath he took waiting for the door to open was akin to winning the lottery. He already had the lucky ticket, he already knew his prize. All he had to do was claim it.

  The knob turned and she came to stand before him in a red silken nightgown. The straps mere threads, the hem falling to mid-thigh. She was a pin-up. A fantasy from the lazy blink of her eyes to her bare toes against the carpet.

  “You were asleep.” He wanted to feel bad, even a little remorseful. He couldn’t muster either.

  She rested her head against the door, her smile lazy. “I was watching TV and must have dozed.”

  “Anticipation really had you by the throat, didn’t it?”

  Her lips quirked and a sparkle lit the tired depths of her irises. “Anticipation of what?”

  “Seeing me tonight.” Description wasn’t his strong suit, yet the words were a torrential flow through his head. All the things he wanted to do. All the places he wanted to taste. Not an inch of her would be
spared or neglected.

  “I see you all the time, Ryan.”

  The way she said his name with dreamy seduction made him rally not to slide past her and drag her back into the room. Coy was a thousand times better than standoffish. A million times better than dismissive. It was a blessing to finally be through with the distance they’d successfully built between them.

  “And you wore my favorite nightwear.”

  Her chuckle was barely audible. “You’ve seen this before?”

  “Yeah. I have.” Once, when they’d been overseas touring and he’d made the mistake of walking by the window to her ground room floor. “But this is the first time I haven’t felt guilty at the thought of stripping it off you.”

  Her breath hitched. Her sleepy lethargy vanished. He waited to be scolded or to receive the lecture on inappropriate behavior. Instead, she stepped back, pulling the door wide to give him free access to her room.

  He couldn’t deny the silent invitation scared the hell out of him. This was complicated. This was Leah. Success could have them sharing a future. Failure could land them in a place far worse than the aftermath of the Australian tour.

  Slowly, he ate up the distance between them and walked inside. The atmosphere changed with the click of the lock as she shut them into the silent room bathed in the glow of a small television.

  “How was your night?” Her words held a lilt he wasn’t familiar with, a seductive quality that played havoc with the professional and friendly Leah he knew.

  He came to rest against the kitchenette, his ass leaning against the counter. “Torturous.”

  “Hmm?” She raised a brow, every move enticing, every sound a push against his restraint. “What happened?”

  “I spent the whole time thinking about you.” Slight understatement. He’d obsessed over her, reliving their kiss and the reciprocated hope he’d seen in her eyes.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think, too.”