by Lisa Suzanne
But they don’t.
After all this time, that hurt is ingrained in my very DNA. It’s who I am, where I come from, and who I’ll always be. The only way I can cut that tie to my past is to let him feel even a single ounce of the pain his words caused me.
Instead of expressing emotions by allowing the burn of tears to track down my face, I simply step closer to him, reach up to palm his cheek as our eyes meet, and then brush my lips softly across his.
I step away from him without saying a word and without looking back, but I feel his eyes on me—or my ass—all the way until I disappear around the corner to head toward my dressing room.
After I sing Vail’s final song with Mark a few hours later, I freshen up. I took a shower after my own set, but I still want to be at my best for Ethan.
Because tonight, I’m going to keep working toward my goal.
I’m going to knock on his bus door and I’m going to see where things go. It might just be a night where we talk a little and get to know one another, or it might be more than that.
It’s too soon and it goes against my earlier idea that I need to make him work for it, but from what I know about Ethan Fuller, sex is the way to his heart.
No other woman has achieved what I’m attempting, but that doesn’t mean I’m not different.
I finish my whiskey—liquid courage and all that—before I head out to the buses. His is lit up like Christmas, which tells me he’s probably “home,” though the shades are drawn so I can’t tell for sure.
I part with Griff by my bus. “Where are you going?” he asks.
I nod toward Ethan’s bus, and Griff’s face falls. I lift a shoulder, and I almost tell him I’m sorry, but I’m not. Deep down, the little scared girl inside me might be. The little girl might see that Griffin is more suited for me than the bad boy on the bus next door. But the adult version of me won’t have any part of that old life.
“Be careful.” His voice is a warning, and I wave him off.
I stride purposefully toward the door to Ethan’s bus. Just when I raise my hand in the air, all poised and ready to knock, I hear something from the inside of the bus that stops me in my tracks.
A moan. Female.
Followed by a grunt.
Male.
I exhale and shake my head as I close my eyes.
After everything Ethan said and after getting my hopes up, he’s with another woman tonight.
I back away from the steps and scurry back to my bus to lick my wounds before someone catches me. It wasn’t rejection, yet it sure feels like it. I feel like a complete and utter idiot as I tell Griffin to take me to my hotel.
What was I expecting, exactly? That he’d be waiting around for me, denying all the gorgeous Vail groupies dubbed Vail Tail Fangirls vying for his attention?
That certainly isn’t what happened tonight, but it just proves to me I’m going to have to work harder to get him where I want him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ETHAN
I stare at the large flat screen television hanging on the wall in the bedroom of my bus. One dude with two chicks. I focus on the tits, as usual. There’s a loud grunt from the dude when one of the ladies grabs his cock, which sort of takes me out of the moment, but I’m right back in when the dude shoves his face into a pussy and the girl squeals her delight. I think I might enjoy watching foreplay even more than the actual main event.
Porn is porn. It’s a substitute for what I want, but I haven’t figured out how I’m going to play it with her just yet.
Our talk on her bus today made me feel things, strange things. The kind of things that when Chuck let a woman backstage, I kicked her out. The kind of things that when I got back to my bus, I beelined for my bedroom so I could jerk off.
Between our conversation earlier and watching her perform tonight, I’m a ball of horny energy. I want her. I crave her.
But I hesitate.
I thought I’d fuck her out of my system, but I have this inclination one night with her won’t be enough. It’ll only tease the cravings and leave me wanting more. I watched her delicate fingers as they clutched her notebook to her heart. I saw the raw talent in a simple sketch she made. I stared at the curve of her neck when she thought I wasn’t watching.
I can’t just bang her and be done. We’re writing a song together now, anyway. I have to work with her professionally, and I can’t do that if we have a wall between us because I fucked things up.
I find myself actually liking her. I want to talk with her more. I want to be her friend. I want to drown in her attention and to swim in her praise.
I shake my head and tug harder at my dick as the woman in the video screams fuck fuck fuck fuck. She’s coming, and as much as I wish I had a woman to make me come tonight, I don’t. I kicked them all out and pushed them all away so I could have this night to myself.
I come as the chick on television does, and then I shut off the movie and clean myself up. A bead of unease forms in the pit of my stomach, and I’m not sure why. Usually when I come, I live in euphoria for at least a few minutes. Instead, I just feel bad as I wonder what Maci’s doing right now.
I head out to the forward cabin of my bus, where Chuck sits tapping away on his tablet, and I text Mark.
Me: You still up?
I send it before I can stop myself. We don’t sit around having long, meaningful talks, but he knows me better than probably anyone in the world, and I feel the need to unload—since the unloading that just happened did nothing to help me feel any better. I don’t plan to admit to anything, but I have a question for him.
His reply is immediate.
Mark: Yeah.
Me: Can we talk?
A knock sounds on my bus door a minute later, and I step down and into the cool January winter air. I glance over at Maci’s bus without even thinking about it.
“What’s going on, man?” Mark asks.
The smell of exhaust wafts to my nostrils as we stand in the bus lot. It’s an oddly comforting scent. It reminds me of home—not because my house smells like car exhaust, but because the road has paradoxically been the most stable home I’ve ever known. The crisp, cool air tonight seems to amplify the scent. Phoenix in the winter is sort of like LA but a few degrees cooler. It’s in the mid-thirties tonight and I’m wearing just a t-shirt and jeans.
I’m hotter right now than I’ve been in a long time, though, and the cool air does nothing to alleviate that. The girl on the bus next door might be the only solution.
I clear my throat. “What’s there to do in Phoenix?”
Mark raises one eyebrow, his signal for me to give him more information.
“I’m playing nice like you asked me to.” I put finger air quotes around playing nice.
“With Maci?”
I nod.
He glances in the direction of her bus. “She’s something else, man.”
“Yeah,” I say evasively.
“You into her?”
I lift a shoulder.
“Holy fuckballs.” He whistles low.
“What?” I ask with a glare.
“I never really believed it would happen.”
I give him a look that clearly asks what the fuck he’s talking about, and he motions toward Maci’s bus.
“You want more than a one and done with her.” His voice is void of accusation even though that’s exactly what it is.
I shake my head as I sneer. “I’m not capable of that shit, Mark. You of all people know that, and I thought you understood me better than that.”
“Deny it all you want, man, but when I asked you if you were into her, you didn’t say no.”
I both hate and appreciate my best friend in that moment. I hate that he knows me so well, but I appreciate that he’s trying to pull something I’m not ready to admit—even to myself—out of me.
I don’t answer. Instead, I blow out a long breath.
“Thought so,” he says. He can’t hide his grin, and half of me wants to pu
nch it off his smug face.
“Shut the fuck up and tell me where I can take her tomorrow.”
He holds up both hands in surrender. “You looking for something simple or a grand gesture?”
“Simple.”
He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the side panel of my bus as he thinks it over. “Simple and romantic, simple and romantic,” he murmurs.
“Just simple.”
He looks up at me and nods placatingly. “Right. Just simple. Not romantic.”
I shake my head. “You’re an asshole.”
He snaps his fingers. “Got it. Breakfast and a hike. It’s easy, not at all romantic, and you’ll be back in time for practice.”
“Whatever. Give Chuck directions.” I start to climb back up the stairs toward my bus when his voice stops me.
“Thanks for playing nice. Don’t fuck with her. She’s important to this tour.”
I turn around and glare. Fuck him for thinking he can tell me what to do. It’ll only make me want to do the opposite. He should know that by now. “Thanks for the fair warning, Dad, but I got this covered.”
“I’m serious, Ethan. Don’t mess this up for us.”
I nod and turn back to my bus. Before I close the door behind me, I mutter just loud enough for him to hear, “I’m pretty sure she’s the one who’s going to mess me up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MACI
Griff told me Mark insisted we have an extra day in Phoenix since his wife’s family lives in the area, but I don’t know anything about Phoenix other than the fact that it’s hotter than an oven in the summer and I refuse to play outdoor venues from April through September.
I’m still pissed at Ethan about last night, but I have no claim to stake on him, so I have no real reason to be mad. It just means I’ll have to work a little harder to reach my goal.
When a knock on my hotel door wakes me a little after ten the next morning, I expect it to be Griffin. When I peek out the small hole in the door, I’m surprised to see Ethan Fuller standing there.
“What do you want?” I yell through the door. I haven’t had time to put in my contacts. I don’t want him to see me like this for fear he might recognize the me I’ve been trying so hard to hide.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where?” I ask.
“You’ll see. Open the door.”
“Hold on,” I say. I rush to the bathroom, pop in my lenses, and put on a little bit of make-up. I can fix it later, but it’s enough to mask what I don’t want him to see. When I open the door, Ethan’s arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the wall beside my door. He doesn’t strike me as the waiting patiently type, yet that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“Took you long enough,” he says.
I roll my eyes as the door latches shut behind me. He hasn’t moved yet. “You woke me up,” I say.
“I’d have rather woken you up a different way.”
“How?” I challenge, knowing exactly what he means but wanting him to spell it out for me.
He turns and moves so fast I don’t even see him coming, and then he has me caged against the door. A frisson of fear tumbles through my chest. I don’t know him, not really, except for his womanizing reputation. Would it be so hard to imagine he’d take whatever he wanted by force? He’s bigger than me and stronger than me. He could if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t have to force me.
His eyes burn into mine as the scent of lemons and cigarettes and memories plows into me. I think I even smell a hint of leather, but he’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. No leather. Maybe it’s just the smell of bad boy.
“I would’ve started by kissing your neck like this.” He drags soft lips across my skin, and I totally resent my body’s betrayal as I shiver.
“Then I would’ve let you know how much I wanted you like this,” he says, thrusting his hips against mine. The hard length of him against me forces a soft moan from my lips.
“Then I would’ve taken your clothes off so I could run my hands along your soft skin.” My sweater’s in the way this time, but it doesn’t stop him from slipping his hands under it. His rough fingertips glide along the warm skin of my back.
“I would’ve felt every inch of your body with my hands before I tasted all the same places with my tongue.” He leans in toward my ear and lowers his voice. His whisper tickles against me. “Then I would’ve fucked you until you screamed through your orgasm, and I would’ve kept fucking you until you screamed through another one.”
I could scream through an orgasm right here. My limbs feel heavy, like I need him to carry me back to bed and do everything he just said. My eyes are closed, so I don’t see him move—instead, I’m left cold as his warmth leaves too fast. “But you disappeared last night after the show, so we didn’t get to do any of that. Maybe another time.”
I open my eyes to find him grinning at me. I glare back at him. He has me exactly where he wants me…or I have him exactly where I want him. Everything’s all twisted from his slow seduction.
“So instead, I’m taking you to breakfast and then we’re going to a special place,” he says. He grabs my hand in his and drags me down the hallway.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” I say. I force as much animosity into my voice as I can.
“Just for one day, could you drop the act and try to have some fun with me?”
“Drop the act? What act?” I ask indignantly.
He stops in the middle of his race toward the elevator. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re hot and cold, a bitch one second and sweet as honey the next. Just be yourself with me, Mace. I think we could have a lot of fun together.”
I don’t know whether to feel offended by his words or embarrassed he called me out. I do neither. Instead, I huff my way past him toward the elevator. It’s my little way of saying fine, I’ll go with you, but it’s under protest.
When we arrive in the hotel lobby, both Griffin and Chuck are already waiting for us. I love that I have someone looking out for me at all times, but there are times I wish I didn’t have Griffin tailing me everywhere I go. Sometimes I just want to go to the grocery store in my pajamas without someone wanting a photo or a signature. While this life comes with lots of perks I’m grateful for, it’s easy to get caught up in the drawbacks.
Right now is one of those times. I want to go on a breakfast date with Ethan Fuller—with just Ethan Fuller. I don’t want two bodyguards sitting a table away listening to every word we say and watching everything around us with eagle eyes. But that’s not our reality, and so they come with us in the car, they sit beside us at the fancy French restaurant Ethan takes me to for brunch that I’m very underdressed for, and they watch as I take a bite of the most delicious chocolate croissant that’s ever passed my lips.
Just one bite. Okay, two. That’s all I can allow—all that my trainer would agree to. Meanwhile, Ethan stuffs down his own chocolate croissant plus a crepe seemingly without a care to his waistline.
“How does that not go straight to your gut?” I ask. Everyone knows he has perfect abs since he plays without his shirt most of the time.
He lifts a shoulder and talks around a mouthful of food. “Genetics, I guess. And a fuckload of work at the gym.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He laughs and nods to the croissant still on my plate. “You gonna finish that?”
“I really hate you,” I say, pushing my plate in his direction.
After breakfast, Griffin and Chuck ride with us to our next destination, which I soon learn is Camelback Mountain. “Up for a hike?” he asks as we pull into an open space on a side street.
I glance down at my shoes—boots with sexy heels, perfect for a date but not so perfect for a hike. “A little warning might’ve been nice.”
Griff holds up my sneakers, and I shake my head with a laugh. He’s always a step ahead.
“If your feet start to hurt, I’ll ca
rry you,” Ethan says as I start to change my shoes, and it feels like his words hold a deeper meaning. I haven’t puzzled together what that might be just yet. “We won’t go to the top this time. I just want to show you the views.”
“This time? That implies there’ll be a next time,” I say.
Ethan shrugs, and I don’t know whether the shrug is meant to say that yeah, it’ll probably happen again, or if the shrug is meant to imply it’s just an expression. He doesn’t confirm or deny either way, instead opting for silence.
We get out of the car and walk to the trailhead. Ethan whispers a few quick words to Chuck then takes my hand in his. We start up the path together, our bodyguards trailing behind us far enough to miss our quiet conversation.
His hand is warm and strong in mine, and it’s such a simple act of affection but it has scores of meaning to me. These are the hands filled with talent, the hands he relies on for his career, the hands others rely on to keep a steady rhythm in every single one of Vail’s songs.
And he’s sharing them with me.
My heart races.
“I hate that he tails me everywhere I go,” Ethan says, echoing my earlier thoughts.
“Why do you bring him, then?” I ask.
“Mark’s mom insists.”
I giggle. “Is that the real reason?”
He nods his head. “We had an incident a few years ago and she really did insist. It’s just safer this way.”
“An incident?”
“We became household names after that reality show we did. Some guy showed up at my place with a gun.”
I suck in a breath, surprised at how much his words affect me. How they twist an unimaginable fear into my guts. I don’t understand why it’s fear. It shouldn’t matter if someone else wants to end him, but I realize as his hand tightens in mine that even just the thought of someone trying to hurt him has my heart twisting in fear.
My plan is just to hurt him emotionally, but that’s something he can recover from. The thought of him lying with a bullet hole in him as he bleeds on the ground is nothing less than absolutely terrifying. “Jesus, Ethan.”
