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The Complete Tempest World Box Set

Page 22

by Mankin, Michelle


  “I’m sure because I know you.” His gaze branded me every bit as much as his touch did. “You’re not your mother, Lace Lowell.”

  Swaying closer, I wanted to believe him, wanted to float securely on the certainty I saw within his eyes. He was a buoy in my troubled waters, but only a temporary one.

  Releasing me, he stepped away just out of reach.

  Stupid, Lace. Tears pricked my eyes. He doesn’t want you.

  We’d had an interlude when War and I had our break. Bryan could have made a move then if he’d wanted to, but he hadn’t. That was all over. I wouldn’t set myself up to be disappointed with him again. I needed to remember I was doing my own paddling in my own waters from now on.

  “Thanks for the pep talk.” I straightened my spine. The water might rise too high, too fast, and I might drown, but I’d go under proudly. “I’d better go back inside and find War.”

  “Not yet.” Bryan grabbed my arm.

  I glanced down at his fingers on my skin, wishing things were different, wishing he would pull me into him, back me into the wall, crush his hard body into my willing one, and his mouth to mine. But wishes weren’t allowed, only cold hard facts and reality.

  “Why not?” I shrugged free from his hold.

  “Stay,” he said firmly. “Talk to me some more. Let’s get you in a better frame of mind.”

  He might be able to achieve that feat. War certainly couldn’t. He thrived on me being strong and defying him, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with me when I was feeling uncertain.

  “What’s the worst that would happen if you don’t get the scholarship?” Bryan asked.

  My brow dipped. “I don’t go to college. I’ll have to find somewhere else to live, and I’ll have to get a job, one that pays better than the consignment shop.”

  “You’ve given it some thought.”

  “Yes.” Because of my brother, and now Bryan.

  “What about the band?” he asked.

  “My share from our gigs isn’t enough to pay rent.”

  “War’s in there right now, probably negotiating with reps. There’s a good chance Tempest could get a record deal with some advance money.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You’re just feeling lost because of Chad, and having legitimate doubts because of all the stress.” Bryan took my hands, anchoring me in more ways than one. “You’re talented, smart, and determined. You’re also an integral part of this band. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ll make it one way or another, and you don’t have to do it alone. Chad will come around. You have War. Your brother. Me, and all the guys in the band.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  War

  “Not interested,” I said, and walked away on purpose, leaving three A&R agents with their mouths hanging open.

  “Wait.” Vanessa, the pencil-thin rep from Black Cat Records, caught up to me before I’d cleared the end of the bar, and I turned to face her.

  “Don’t waste my time. Unless you have a different answer for me than the other two.” I pointed with my chin to the reps from RCA and Zenith. With me gone, those two were now squaring off against each other.

  “No, not different.” She peered over the lenses of her dark-rimmed glasses at me. “However, I have authorization to top whatever they offer you by fifty thousand.”

  “RCA’s already at a hundred thousand.”

  “Then Black Cat will go one fifty.”

  “Fucking shit.” My eyes widened, my brows rising under the rolled bandanna tied around my head. Even split equally between everyone in the group, that was a lot of money. “But they want me to ditch Lace. Is that the way your offer comes too?”

  “Yes.” Vanessa tucked a strand of blond hair behind her diamond-studded ear. “You have to realize that Lace doesn’t fit the band’s image.”

  “Tempest doesn’t have an image. We’re just a bunch of musicians who play loud. The stage is our theater. Our music is our voice, a megaphone for other outcasts like us that society has shit on. A big fuck-you to the rest of the world who doesn’t understand. If you don’t like it, you can kiss our collective asses.”

  “That’s it.” Vanessa didn’t even look offended. She actually smiled. “Bad-boy rocker is your image. You on lead epitomize it.” She gestured to me as if my headband, white T-shirt, faded jeans, and scuffed boots simply made her point.

  “Lace is all that.” I narrowed my gaze. “She’s a badass.”

  “She is in her own way. She’s proficient on the keyboards, and she harmonizes well with you. But she’s lost onstage in a group with five guys. Her badass isn’t your brand of badass.” The Black Cat rep’s expression firmed. “Our offer doesn’t include her.”

  “All right, I hear ya,” I said, tapping my chin as if considering. Though Vanessa had made some valid points, I didn’t concede anything. This was a game of negotiation. I’d done the dance with Kyle over drug-related shit. I knew how to play. “Guess I’ll just have to go back to RCA and see what they say when they hear what you’ve offered me.”

  She gasped as I turned around and nearly ran over Dizzy.

  Before I could ask him how long he’d been standing there, he glared at me and grabbed my arm. “Shut it. Come into my office.”

  In a couple of jerky strides, we arrived at the men’s restroom. He shoved me inside, following right behind me.

  Pissed, I wheeled around. No one got away with manhandling me.

  We squared off in the middle of the black-and-white checkered floor between a bunch of urinals and sinks. The couple of guys we’d interrupted wisely zipped up their flies and got the fuck out of there.

  Arms stiff, his hands in fists, Dizzy lowered his chin and glared at me. “You are not brokering a deal on the group’s behalf that excludes my sister.”

  “You’re right. I’m not.” My eyes were as bright as his, a ball of fury burning inside me. I could see my reflection in the mirror over his shoulder. How dare he question me about my group?

  “Huh?” He shook his head. “I think I misheard you.”

  “You only heard what Vanessa said. You missed my part. I’m in the process of negotiating with her and the rest of those arrogant fuckers out there.”

  “All three major labels want us?” he asked, his expression changing from anger to incredulousness so fast, it was almost comical.

  “They want us, but not Lace.” When he frowned in response to my explanation, I said, “Before you get all huffy, you should know that’s not what I want.”

  Dizzy studied me a long moment. Seeing the truth as well as hearing it, he relaxed his frown. “Good.”

  “Not exactly. But I’m working on it.”

  The higher their offers rose, the twitchier I got about refusing them. After all, wasn’t money in hand better than none?

  I could take a deal and keep Lace with me. We could live large on the money they were already offering. The problem as I saw it wasn’t really them anymore, but Lace.

  Would she agree to stay with me if she wasn’t in the band?

  • • •

  Lace

  War was acting weird, and so was my brother. The A&R reps were nice, though. Staying this time after the show, I played my role, supporting my boyfriend and discovering that schmoozing with the music reps wasn’t so bad. They paid for our food and drinks. But the later it got, the less supportive I felt.

  “You okay?” Bryan slipped into the empty space beside me at the bar.

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” I shifted on my bar stool to face him. Well, as much as I could. War was on the other side of me, his hand clamped on my thigh as he talked to the rep from RCA.

  “I dunno. I guess I got worried because of what you said earlier.”

  “Just feeling the stress,” I said, downplaying my mood.

  “Test is tomorrow?” he asked, but I think he knew.

  “Yes,” I said, my stomach knotting.

  “Morning or afternoon?”

  “Eight a.m.” I made a face
.

  “You should go home. Get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” I shrugged. Truthfully, I didn’t want to leave and risk a repeat of the argument I had with War the last time reps were interested in the band.

  Nodding knowingly, Bryan reached past me, his chest a compelling wall of hardness as he thumped War’s bicep to get his attention.

  “What?” War frowned at him, but Bryan took it in stride.

  “I’m gonna take off. Get Lace to her place. She’s got the SAT in the morning, remember?”

  “Okay.” War shifted and laid a heavy one on me.

  Taking what he gave, I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his whipcord muscles flex as he tongued my mouth deep. I got into it. Even with Bryan and the rep probably watching, I was disappointed when War abruptly ended it.

  “Good luck.” Lifting his head, War gave me a slow grin.

  “Huh?” I blinked at him, my mind completely scrambled.

  “Good luck on the test tomorrow.” War extracted my hands from his T-shirt. “I’ll meet you after. Take you out. You’ll kick ass on the SAT, and if this loser from RCA ups Black Cat’s offer, we might have more than just your test-taking prowess to celebrate.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder where the rep was sitting.

  The guy from RCA smiled at me, but I didn’t return it. Something was off about him and his smile. Not that I would share. War hadn’t asked for my opinion.

  “Ready?” Bryan held out his hand.

  Nodding, I placed my hand in his and wobbled when I hopped off the bar stool. Not because of the kiss from War, or from my stiletto boot heels slipping on the stamped concrete floor, but because of the electrical current shooting up my arm and through the rest of me, just from Bryan holding my hand.

  Once we were outside, he asked, “Which way should we go? Left?”

  He pointed toward the row of buildings hugging the shore, beyond which lay the dark expanse of the ocean. The breeze blowing from that direction lifted my hair and tasted salty.

  “Or right?” he asked, pointing in the opposite direction. Uphill from where we were, a dense conglomeration of tall buildings nearly blocked out the night sky.

  “I don’t understand.” I gave him a puzzled frown. “The ocean isn’t on the way to my uncle’s house.”

  “I thought we could walk along the shore a bit, then get on the train to Southside at Roosevelt. It’s a different way, but it’s possible that a way you haven’t tried before can be exactly right.”

  “Sure.” I cocked my head, trying to read between the lines. Was he attempting to convey a deeper truth?

  “It’ll take longer, but I owe you a stroll on the beach.”

  “Ah, okay.” My heart skipped a beat as I got his meaning, or at least I hoped I did.

  “You’re all keyed up.” He gave me a long look under the light. “I think you need the unwinding time. Am I wrong?”

  “You’re right.” It was uncanny how Bryan knew things like that without me having to explain.

  “C’mon then.” He threw his arm around my shoulders, and I experienced the usual full-body buzz from the connection as we turned away from the club and walked downhill on the sidewalk.

  We both went silent, apparently lost in our own thoughts. Curious about his, I glanced at him a couple of times—once as we crossed from one block to the other, as we skirted the cannery by the water, and again as we descended the stairs from the street level to the sand.

  The lights from the buildings we passed and the streetlights we walked under revealed Bryan’s creased brow and thoughtful expression, but what his thoughts were exactly, I wasn’t sure. I could sense a heaviness in him, though, and knew without him saying it that he wanted to take this walk for a reason.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, unable to stand the suspense anymore.

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “You seem upset. Have I done something to upset you?”

  He removed his arm from my shoulder. “No. Not really.”

  That sounded ominous, and it was cold by the water, colder without his warmth. I started to bring my arms up to wrap them around my shoulders, to remedy the situation for myself, but he grabbed one of my hands and threaded his fingers together with mine.

  My heart raced, and my body flooded with heat. I didn’t need my own remedy. I wasn’t the tiniest bit cold anymore.

  “So not really means maybe you’re a little upset with me.” Peering at him with only the moonlight to illuminate his handsome features, I tried to gauge his mood.

  “I wanted to talk to you. Away from everyone else.” Bryan stopped walking and moved in front of me. “Somewhere pretty. Somewhere private.”

  “What did you want to talk about?” I asked, my heart beginning to pound to a new rhythm of anticipation.

  Was I reading the signs correctly? It was late. The beach was deserted. The only sound was the ocean lapping the shore. The moon over the water made the sea shine like black glass, the silver sphere reflected in it reminding me of his eyes.

  “War,” he said. “Are things better for you with him?”

  “How do you mean?” I thought it best to narrow that very broad question.

  “Tonight. With all the reps, the setup’s a lot like the last time you took the SAT.” Bryan’s gaze seemed to intensify. “When you and War argued. When you broke up.”

  “I had that same thought earlier.” I sighed. “War said he’s making allowances for me, for my dream. But . . .” I sighed and bit my lip.

  Bryan’s gaze dipped to my mouth, and my stomach flipped. “But what?” he asked softly.

  “But his own dream takes precedence, and he forgets mine. I understand. His dream isn’t wrong, just different, and probably more realistic, less of a long shot now than mine.”

  “Your dream isn’t unrealistic.” His brows drew together. “Aren’t your practice scores better? Aren’t you more prepared?”

  “Yes, they are, and I am. Thanks to you.” I gave him a soft smile, wishing I could give him so much more.

  “I believe in you.”

  I swooned. “That’s what I want War to say,” I mumbled, then apologized for speaking the unfiltered truth. “I shouldn’t have said that. He’s your best friend and my boyfriend. I should be more supportive of him, more encouraging and enthusiastic about Tempest. More appreciative to be included in the group.” I sighed again. “With you guys and your shirts off, I stick out back there at my keyboards. I don’t feel like I belong.”

  “You’re beautiful. You belong wherever you want to belong. And your feelings are just your feelings. There’s no right or wrong with those.”

  “But I should talk to him about how I feel, not you. Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I asked quietly.

  “No, Lace. That’s not it.”

  Bryan stepped closer, and I held my breath. He reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding me anchored to him and framed my face.

  “Bry.” I exhaled from the bliss, burrowing closer, pressing my cheek deeper into the warmth of his palm.

  His eyes dark, he swept his thumb across my skin. “I want to talk to you about us.” His voice lowered to a rumble, a beautiful accompaniment to the surf. “About the future.”

  “What about the future?” I whispered, my heart thrumming.

  “I think it’s almost here.” His brows dipped. “Everything seemed to be moving so slow before. I thought we had all the time in the world, that things could just continue as they are. But now with prom around the corner, graduation looming, and these reps here talking about a deal, it seems like things are changing, and those changes are coming fast.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, thinking about the scholarship I wanted. “Maybe too fast.”

  I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared, though it was great that Bryan believed in me. He and I seemed to be the only ones who believed in college for me. Certainly, I was in a much better position going into the SAT this time around.

  But w
hat if I still didn’t get the scores I needed? What then?

  In that scenario, if Tempest signed, I’d go on tour with the band. What would it be like traveling across the country in close proximity with War and Bryan? Would I sleep in a tour bunk with one while continuing to dream about the other?

  “There’s unfinished business between us, don’t you agree?” Bryan asked softly, gently nudging into my thoughts.

  “Yes, there is.” I stared deeply into his eyes, drowning yet floating in his warmth and approval.

  As if he were floating on the same currents, his face drifted closer.

  Bryan was all I saw. He was all I wanted.

  I licked my lips, desperately wanting his mouth on mine. I longed for his kiss, longed to taste him. The air between us was crisp with his scent, and electric with the charge that was always there between us.

  In that moment, I knew with crystal clarity why that spark was always there.

  I was in love with Bryan.

  I’d been in love with him for a long time. Maybe from the very beginning, before I was even old enough to know what this feeling was. Loving him was an abiding part of me, an integral component of my being.

  I loved War too, but that love was totally different. War was an agitator. He required a reaction, demanded it. To be loved by him, I had to be changed, remade according to his will.

  Bryan was strong, steady, and he understood me. He used that knowledge, not to tear me down but to build me up, because he wanted what was best for me.

  I wanted what was best for him too. That was why I’d been willing to give him up, if my being friends with him would interfere with him having his dream.

  But loving two men was a problem, especially when those two men also loved each other.

  Where did that leave me? What did that do to the three of us? Would I make things better if I lifted onto my toes and pressed my mouth to Bryan’s? Or would I make things worse, only creating more tangles in the twisted ties that bound us?

  Not knowing for sure, and afraid to damage the man who meant so much to me, I stepped back. “I think you’d better take me home.”

 

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