I shook my head.
“Halo?” She waited until I looked up at her before saying, “I’m glad you did.”
“Yeah?”
“Duh. We don’t have secrets, you and me. And it’s not like this changes anything. You’re still the best person I know.”
“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” I grinned, and she pulled her hand away, rolling her eyes.
“Let’s not get cocky about it.” She stopped herself and then laughed. “Oh God, the puns that are gonna present themselves now.”
“Feel free to keep ’em to yourself.”
“It’s gonna be hard,” she said, chuckling again, as she cut into her waffle, which had to be cold by now. As she chewed, she shook her head. “I told you Viper was fucking hot. Didn’t I tell you?”
“You told me, all right.”
“Damn. I feel like I deserve some recognition or something for putting the thought into your head.”
“You didn’t put the thought in my head.” But then I remembered her telling me about how hot he was and the way I’d caught myself looking at him...and his lips. “Okay, maybe you did kind of push me in that direction.”
Imogen grinned. “You’re welcome. I’d ask how he is in bed, but I really don’t wanna know about that anymore.”
“I’m not telling you shit. Don’t worry.”
Sitting back, Imogen shook her head. “My brother has a hot boyfriend. Who would’ve thought.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, pointing at her with my fork. “Just get that much outta your head.”
“But he could be.”
“Nah. Viper isn’t a relationship kind of guy.”
“Maybe not, but you are,” she said, and my hand paused from where I’d piled hash browns onto my fork. She’d nailed it right on the head. I’d never been into the casual-fuck scene, and spending so much time with Viper only proved it.
Before I could say anything, she was talking again.
“You gonna tell Mom and Dad?”
“I don’t see a reason to. Do you?”
Imogen frowned. “I guess not.” Then she tilted her head to the side, seeming to think something over. “Do I get to meet him?”
“Nope.”
“Aw, come on. You’ve gotta introduce me sometime. I’ll pretend I don’t know.”
“Negative.”
“Please? I’ll do your laundry for a week.”
I snorted. “Only a week? That’s all a meet-and-greet with the Viper is worth? I’ll have to tell him.”
“Ugh.” Imogen crossed her arms and sat back in the booth, pouting. “You’re an asshole.”
“Guess Viper’s rubbed off on me after all.”
Imogen began to laugh. “Oh God, the puns. I can’t…” She laughed harder, wiping the corners of her eyes. My sister in hysterics was always contagious, and I found myself chuckling along with her, shaking my head at her ridiculousness. But inside, the knot in my stomach loosened, because I’d told my sister about Viper and my world didn’t fall apart. She was making jokes and didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by my revelation.
As her giggles began to subside, I reached across the table, and she put her hand in mine.
“Love you, Im,” I said, grateful that I had this person in my corner, as my sister and my best friend.
“I love you too, Halo. Thanks for telling me.”
“Thanks for forcing me to.”
A brilliant smile lit up her face. “Anytime.”
Thirty-Four
Viper
“YOU’RE DOING WHAT?” Killian’s voice echoed down the corridor of my condo, where he was waiting by the elevator for me to grab my shit so we could head to the pub down the street.
I poked my head around the corner. “What? It’s not a big deal. You’ve met my mom. Slade and Jagger have met my mom.”
“Uh, don’t you think this is a little different?” he asked, his voice growing louder as he headed up the hall, and when he rounded the corner, I looked up at him. “You meeting his family too?”
I screwed my nose up and continued rummaging around through my drawers, searching for the drawing I’d done. “Fuck no.”
“I don’t know, V. I think you might be in over your head with the angel.”
“And I think you might be a nosy motherfucker, but I don’t call you out on it.”
“Uh huh. So you’re admitting it?”
“Jesus Christ.” I slammed the drawer shut, what I was looking for obviously not in there, and headed toward my bedroom, Killian hot on my heels. I lifted the clothes piled on my nightstand that needed to be put away, and felt around for the sketch. Hopefully I hadn’t left it sitting here where Halo could’ve seen it, but my brain had been scattered lately, so there was no telling.
Killian threw his hands up. “What are you looking for?”
I pushed aside another stack of clothes on the dresser, and Killian’s eyes zeroed in on a sea-green shirt on top.
“Is that Halo’s shirt?” he said.
Glancing to where he indicated, I shrugged. “Guess so.”
He stooped down, grabbing something from off the floor, and when he stood back up, Halo’s leather wrist wrap dangled from his fingers. “And this?”
“His too.”
“So you guys leave your stuff at each other’s places?”
“No,” I said. “We don’t stay at his place.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Killian squeezed the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. “You’re so stupid, V. I’ve told you that, right?”
“And if you say it again, I’ll be tempted to wipe my floors with your face.” I opened the top drawer, and sitting there was the sketch I’d been looking for. “Now we can go.”
I didn’t wait around for him to follow, and I was punching the button for the elevator before he finally caught up. He didn’t say anything more on the walk to the pub, and for that, his face was lucky. I didn’t need him giving me shit about Halo. So he’d left a couple of things over. Big fuckin’ deal. It was probably my fault for stripping him out of his shit so often.
We entered the pub through the back, as we always did, and greeted the guys in the kitchen before stealing away to our usual booth away from everyone. If we’d gone through the front, we’d have been stopped about twenty times, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with drunk people today, fans or not.
After ordering a couple of beers, we got down to business. Since MGA had given the tour the go-ahead, Killian and I had decided to get a head start in designing the stage for what we were calling The Corruption Tour. It would be our biggest tour to date, and that meant a massive setup.
“I know we always do one stage, but what if we did two?” Killian said, pulling out a binder and flipping it open. He also had rough drawings of ideas sketched out, which was the way we’d always worked. Coming together to combine ideas before presenting it to the guys for approval and any tweaks. Slade and Jagger had never held much interest in this side of things, and Halo said he’d like to see what we came up with before adding his two cents.
I flipped one of the pages around to get a good look at it. “So connect the main stage to one out in the audience?”
“Nah, not connected. Takes up too many paying seats.”
“Then how the fuck do we get out there?”
Killian shrugged. “Run. Fly. Whatever.”
With a snort, I looked back down at his drawing, and he showed me what he was thinking for the main stage. Not surprisingly, it fell right in line with what I’d come up with—with one exception.
I shoved my sketch in his direction. “What do you think about this? A play off the band name.”
Killian’s eyes roved over the page, and then he looked up at me. “What is it?”
“It’s a fuckin’ piano, genius.”
He angled his head to the side, like he was trying to see it. “Doesn’t look like one.”
I snatched the paper back. “You’re no artist yourself, asshole. These are wings,” I
said, pointing to the sides of the piano. “I figure they could rise, you know, like some massive angel wings, to frame Halo while he’s playing.”
“Ahh,” Killian said, his mouth quirking as he sat back in the booth. “So this is a showstopper piece for Halo.”
“Don’t you think he’d look like a fallen angel sitting there center stage with the right lighting? Maybe some blues, some—” I stopped short at the grin on Killian’s face. “What the fuck are you so smiley about?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
Killian chuckled, taking a long pull of his beer. “Look, I know you’re gonna take this the wrong way, so try not to, but man…you are so far gone over this guy. I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Jesus Christ—”
“I know you’re gonna try to deny it, but you forget I know you, V. You don’t lose your head over anyone. But Halo? He’s different. He makes you different.”
I let out a low whistle and shook my head. “Is this where we talk about our feelings and shit? ’Cause I have to say, I don’t plan to stick around if it is.”
“It’s obvious you like him. Hell, I think you actually care about him, which, trust me, blows my mind as much as it would yours if you would stop and look at what’s in front of you.”
“All I see in front of me is an asshole who’s gone sappy as shit.”
“Dude…” Killian rubbed his jaw before scooting forward to rest his elbows on the table. “What’s the real issue here, huh? Is it because of what happened with Owen?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Then is it because Halo’s our frontman and you don’t wanna fuck shit up there?”
I hesitated, and then said, “No.”
“Okay. Good. Because Halo’s not Owen or Trent.”
“You don’t think I fuckin’ know that?”
Killian lifted a shoulder and rolled his half-empty glass between his hands. “I saw him, you know. Trent. After the show in Savannah.”
I blinked. That was months ago, and Killian had never said a word. “Uh, no, I didn’t know.”
“I’d been trying to get in touch with him for months, mend the fences, so to speak, but he wouldn’t answer my calls.”
“Because he’s a shithead.”
“V, please,” he said.
“Fine. What about him?”
“Apparently he’s been living down there for a while, on some island off the coast. South Haven, I think he said. He’s writing again, working on his own stuff.”
“Good for him,” I said, bringing the beer to my lips.
“Yeah, he looked good. Happy.” Killian hesitated, rolling his glass again. “I, uh, made a call to Marshall. Tried to get him back in with MGA—”
“You did what?”
Killian held his hand up. “Relax. Trent turned down their offer, which Marshall gave me a fuckin’ earful about, but whatever. I guess he wants to do shit on his own terms.”
“Huh,” I said, digesting the news. I hadn’t given much thought to what Trent was up to since he’d left, but…yeah, maybe he’d earned the tiniest bit of my respect back for fucking Gellar over. “There a reason you’re bringin’ this up now?”
“I don’t know.” Killian let out a heavy sigh, like he still carried the weight from all our internal band issues around. “I guess I just thought you should know. Things are going well with us, and I’d like it if we can all agree that Trent leaving worked out for the best.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then why all the hate still, V?”
I tapped my fingers along the side of my glass, half annoyed to even be having this conversation, and half unsure why I couldn’t stop my tongue from spouting off the shit I did when it came to Trent. Maybe it was a default reaction when someone brought him up now. Hell if I knew.
“Maybe it’s time to remember we were all friends first, yeah?” Killian said.
“You want me to call Trent up and go all ‘Kumbaya’ on his ass? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not saying you have to do anything. But maybe stop with the shit talking, and if we happen to run into him, maybe you could be civil. Especially since we got Halo out of all this.”
Just hearing Halo’s name had my pulse kicking up a notch. It had only been a few hours since he’d left my bed, but it felt like years.
“One more thing, and I swear I’ll shut my mouth,” Killian said, as I groaned. “If you like the guy, stop with the ‘it’s just fucking’ business, or you’re gonna lose him. His stuff’s at your place, you’re with him almost every damn day, and I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Denial’s an ugly beast, my friend.”
“We done with the lecture now?” When Killian nodded, I lifted my hand to catch the attention of our waiter. “Thank fuck. My beer’s gone bad.”
Killian snorted and flipped through his sketches again while I placed our orders for another round, and while he didn’t mention Halo again, I couldn’t help but feel as though the angel was sitting at the table with us with the way I couldn’t think of anything other than him.
Thirty-Five
Viper
“SO THIS IS where the Viper from TBD grew up, huh?” With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, Halo strolled down the sidewalk I used to take home from school each day and looked up at the old brick homes that sat side by side, taking in the neighborhood that had been my old stomping grounds.
“Yep. Me, Killian, and eventually Trent.”
Halo looked at me where I was walking alongside him, my hands in the pockets of my leather motorcycle jacket. “Eventually?”
“Yeah, he moved here from Nashville,” I said, glancing at the home with the fresh paint on the old porch railing, and I had a fleeting thought about my earlier conversation with Killian about Trent, and what he might be doing now. But as soon as it entered my mind, I shoved it aside. I’d promised Killian I’d try not to think shitty thoughts about Trent whenever his name came up now, but at the same time, I didn’t have to actively think nice thoughts of him. Especially not tonight.
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
“Some TBD stalker you are,” I said, aiming a smirk his way, and when the angel’s face lit up with amusement, my stomach did that new flip it seemed to do anytime Halo looked pleased with me.
“Well, in all fairness, I only listened to your music back then. It’s only recently that I’ve turned into a stalker. Tracking down interviews, music clips, and magazine articles.” Halo stopped walking and ran his eyes down to my mouth. “And I have to confess, none of my attention has been focused on Trent Knox.”
“It better fucking not be.”
Halo swayed closer to me, and as he tipped his face up, the streetlight caught on his beautiful skin, casting an iridescent glow around him. Never in my entire life had I wanted to touch a person more, yet as we stood there, I made myself keep my hands where they were, safely tucked away from the man in front of me. Safely tucked away from temptation.
If you like the guy, stop with the “it’s just fucking” business, or you’re gonna lose him. Killian’s words from earlier crept in the periphery of my mind, and while I’d denied it at the time, I knew what was going on with Halo was more than fucking. That it was something that had the potential to end in disaster if we didn’t pull back from it. If we didn’t put a stop to it, and soon. But that was a problem for another time—not tonight.
“So, which house is yours?” Halo asked as he dragged his eyes away from mine and took a step back.
Damn, how did he do that? Know when to stop pushing me? When to give me my space? It was like he saw clear through me, and while most pushed until I snapped, Halo seemed to have this sixth sense when it came with how to deal with me.
I inclined my head toward the small semi-detached on the corner of the street and started walking again, reminding myself that this was no different than bringing the rest of the guys home to meet my mom.
But as we got closer to the house and my hands began to sweat and my pulse sped up, I knew it for the lie it was. I was nervous, and that was what made this different.
Totally fucking different.
As always, Mom had left the light on for me, and as we walked up the cracked pavers to the steps leading to the porch, Halo hung back a couple of feet, letting me lead the way. When my feet hit the landing, the front door swung wide and Mom pushed open the security door.
Earlier this morning I’d called to ask if it was okay if I brought a “friend” to dinner, so she wouldn’t get caught out in her robe and want to kill me, and as she stepped onto the porch to greet us, I could tell she’d dressed for company.
She’d curled her glossy black hair and “put her face on,” as she would say, and was wearing a tailored pair of black slacks and a cream cowl-neck sweater. When her eyes found mine, they lit with pleasure as she put her hands on my arms and looked me over.
“David, don’t you look handsome tonight,” she said as she leaned up to kiss my cheek, and when I returned the gesture, she grinned, patted the left side of my face, and then looked past my shoulder. “But not as handsome as this young man.”
When I turned around to see Halo had now moved up to stand on the porch, I couldn’t have agreed with her more. He was fucking handsome. Beautiful, really, and when he flashed that heart-stopping smile our way, my mom whacked me in the chest with the back of her hand.
“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?” she said, jarring me out of my moment of stupid.
“Oh, right,” I said, and cleared my throat. “Mom, this is Halo. Our new singer.”
Halo took the two steps he needed so he could hold his hand out to my mom, and as she took it, my heart rate accelerated to the point I thought they both might look at me and ask me what that thumping noise was.
“Angel, isn’t it?” At the use of my nickname for him, Halo looked in my direction, and I felt my cheeks heat. Shit. Now I’m fucking blushing? Okay, this was getting out of hand.
VIPER (Fallen Angel Book 2) Page 17
