Fragile (Rock Stars & Romance Book 1)

by A. K. Evans

  What was he talking about?

  “I’m sorry. I’m not following you,” I told him. “You think I’ve been sitting here pining over the fact that I didn’t give you my number and now I’m devastated that I may never get the chance to talk to you again?”

  He let out a soft laugh. God, the sound was magical in my ear. “I don’t know, Demi. Are you pining over me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I don’t know why, but I have such a hard time believing that,” he said.

  “It’s probably because your ego can’t handle the devastating blow that not everybody wants to see you naked,” I remarked.

  “Are you thinking about me naked, firecracker?”

  Damn.

  I hadn’t been. At least, not at that moment. But I was now. And I would have been lying if I said that I hadn’t thought about him naked at least a thousand times since he had walked into my hotel.

  “You’re so full of yourself. Do you know that?” I countered.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” he pointed out. “I think that says a lot more about you than it does about me. I don’t have to pretend to be somebody I’m not.”

  Okay, time for a new tactic. I considered just slamming the phone down and hanging up on him, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t dissuade Cash. This guy was far too determined to simply give up. I mean, if he was still hung up on the fact that I hadn’t given him my number days after he’d moved on to the next stop on his band’s tour, I needed a serious answer as to why.

  Or, better yet, I needed to make sure I shut it down.

  “Why are you being so persistent?” I asked. “You’ve already left New Hampshire.”

  “Maybe I want to come back,” he replied.

  This guy.

  “Well, it’s not me that’s stopping you,” I said.

  I didn’t mind putting that out there because I knew My Violent Heart was still on tour for a few more weeks. Even if Cash thought this was my way of giving in, by the time he came back, I wouldn’t be here.

  “Do you want me to come back?” he asked.

  For a brief moment, I allowed what felt like genuine curiosity in his tone affect me. He sounded like he actually cared to know the answer to that question and that he desperately wanted the answer to be yes.

  Pushing beyond that unwelcome feeling the sound of his voice gave me, I remembered how men like him were and answered, “What I want doesn’t matter, and you know that.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what it means. Guys like you don’t actually care about the feelings of the women you get involved with, which is precisely the reason why I won’t ever get involved with you,” I explained.

  “That’s quite the assessment you’ve made,” he noted.

  “It’s accurate, though,” I said.

  Cash didn’t respond, and I found that strange. Someone like him, with the cocky attitude and inability to accept being denied, didn’t just shut down. There was always a reply, a witty comeback. Something, anything, to make the person they were speaking with feel worse about the situation.

  When too much time passed without a reply, I declared, “You never answered my question.”

  “What question?”

  “I’m not a fool. I know you can easily find another woman at your next destination. Why are you being so persistent with me?”

  There was another lengthy pause before his voice dropped an octave, and he said, “Because you aren’t like the other women. You don’t fall all over yourself for me.”

  Now it made sense.

  “I see. So, this is just a game for you then,” I announced. “You’ve never had to actually work to get a woman in your bed, so maybe that’s made life a little monotonous for you, even if you spend every night with a different girl.”

  “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yep. I’m going to be nice and do you a favor, though. I understand your need to conquer this and come out on top. I’ll save you the work and the struggle and tell you that I promise it’s not going to happen. I have absolutely zero interest in playing this game with you just so you can get your rocks off and move on.”

  The silence stretched between us.

  “Demi?” he eventually called.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re wrong,” he said.

  No, I wasn’t, but I could see why he wouldn’t want to admit that to me. “Oh?” I scoffed. “How’s that?”

  “Actually, you’re mostly right,” he corrected himself. “This is definitely a challenge. One that I’m up for. But where you’re wrong is in your assumption about what happens in this game.”

  “How so?”

  Another lengthy pause ensued before his voice dropped to a level so low it was a wonder my whole body didn’t burst into flames.

  “When I win this game, I intend to keep the prize.”

  My lips parted, and I stopped breathing.

  “I…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

  “I’ll be back for you, Demi.”

  The next thing I knew, the line went dead.

  Four

  Cash

  “It’s definitely broken.”

  Panic gripped me as the words spilled out of my mouth. I didn’t know how I’d be able to perform tonight now that I’d come to this realization.

  “I’m sure it’s not broken,” Beck said.

  “Well, it doesn’t work anymore, Beck,” I noted. “That’s the very definition of being broken.”

  It was Monday evening, two weeks after we’d left New Hampshire to continue with our tour. This show was the first of two we had this week before a week-long hiatus began. Then we had another fifteen weeks of shows to play before the tour was over.

  It had been a particularly long tour for us, so the end approaching was a good thing. While I loved what I did, I had a feeling I was going to need a nice long break. Ever since I’d met Demi, so much had changed for me.

  Some of those things were not so good, as I had just found out.

  “What’s broken?” Roscoe asked as he and Killian walked up. Killian sat on the opposite end of the couch as me while Roscoe made himself comfortable in a chair off to the side of the sofa. Beck and Walker were sitting on another couch directly across from the one Killian and I were sitting on.

  We were in our dressing room at a venue in upstate New York. For now, it was just the guys and me. Holland was currently in her own dressing room; however, she always joined us for a bit before we went out on stage.

  “Cash thinks his dick is broken,” Walker informed them.

  This wasn’t a matter of debate. There was no thinking that needed to be done. I was certain it was broken.

  Roscoe and Killian started laughing. “What the hell would make you think that?” Killian asked.

  I sat back on the couch, pressed the bottoms of my feet into the edge of the coffee table, and said, “I don’t think this. I know it.”

  “You’re serious?” Roscoe pressed.

  I nodded.

  The worry that consumed me was beyond anything I’d ever felt before. Was this it for me? Was I done? Had I used it so much that I’d never have sex again?

  I was only thirty-two years old. Surely I hadn’t reached the point of no return yet.

  “Maybe it’s just a phase,” Walker suggested.

  “I don’t think it’s that,” Beck declared with a knowing smirk on his face.

  “Guys, this isn’t funny,” I began. “I may never have sex again.”

  God, I felt sick at the thought.

  “What happened?” Killian asked.

  It was her.

  Demi.

  She broke my dick.

  Ever since I was in New Hampshire, it seemed to have one interest and one interest alone. Her. Nothing else mattered.

  At the time, I kind of liked it. I was so focused on trying to get her that I didn’t necessarily take notice to the fact that no other
woman was doing it for me. Demi had kept me so excited and engaged that every other woman ceased to exist.

  And now I was paying the price.

  I hated the way this felt. Terror unlike anything I’d ever experienced before was pulsing through every part of my body.

  Maybe that was the problem. My cock was living in fear. The thing was, I couldn’t understand why.

  Before I could answer Killian’s question, a knock came at the door before it opened a crack.

  “Is it safe?” Holland asked.

  “All clear, Holls,” Walker told her.

  Holland opened the door and came inside. She’d made a point to knock before entering every time now because one time, years ago, she walked in and found that Roscoe and Killian had both brought some women back to the dressing room. She’d gotten an eyeful that night and refused to repeat it.

  After closing the door, Holland walked over and sat down between Killian and me. I always thought the middle seat of the couch was awkward. If any of the guys had sat down in that seat between Killian and me, I had no doubt we’d have kicked his ass. But Holland was different. She was the only one who could do that and get away with it.

  “Okay, fill me in,” she demanded. “What did I miss?”

  My eyes moved through the group. Beck shared, “Cash’s dick is broken.”

  Holland snapped her head in my direction. “Are you serious?” she gasped.

  “Jesus, Beck, can you stop fucking saying it like that?” I begged. This was already difficult enough. Every time he said it like that, it was as though I could feel the pain of my new reality all centered in the spot that was causing all this stress.

  Beck ignored my request and just laughed it off.

  “Cash?” Holland called.

  I turned my attention to her, and in that moment, I couldn’t have been more grateful she was part of our group. Where the guys would be quick to turn it into a joke—something I probably would have done as well if the roles were reversed and it was one of them—Holland showed genuine concern.

  “Yeah?” I responded.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I decided it was time to tell the rest of them the truth. I had a feeling Beck already knew what was going on with me.

  “I’ve been having this problem ever since we left New Hampshire,” I told her.

  “What exactly is the problem?”

  “It doesn’t work anymore,” I admitted. Fuck, it hurt to even admit that to Holland. The thing was, I was just as close with her as I was with the rest of the guys. We all were. Holland being a woman didn’t affect our friendship. Obviously, we were a bit more protective of her and gave her the respect of her own dressing room or hotel room. But deep down, she was just as much a part of us as any of the guys were.

  Narrowing her eyes on me, she cautiously pressed, “How do you know this? Did you have an… incident with someone?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. At least, not like I’m sure you’re thinking,” I answered. “It’s just that over the last two weeks, things have happened that indicate there’s a problem.”

  “Like what?”

  I swallowed hard. “Twice already I’ve been flashed by women, and I feel nothing,” I confessed. “And even though I hadn’t exactly asked for it, the other night when we all went out to that bar in Delaware, do you remember when that group of girls came up to us?”

  Holland nodded.

  “Well, one of them walked up to me, grabbed my cock, and pressed her tits in my face,” I shared. “I felt nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Holland seemed shocked. “Is that really all it would take for you?”

  “I’m a guy, Holls. It doesn’t take much for us,” I shared. She cocked an eyebrow at me before I added, “Or, at least, it didn’t.”

  Sympathy washed over her.

  Roscoe chimed in and asked, “So, how long has this been a problem?”

  “Since we left New Hampshire,” I replied.

  “Did something happen there?” Walker questioned me.

  “Yes, but no.”

  “What?”

  Just share it, Cash, I thought.

  My eyes slid to Beck’s, and I was convinced he already knew where my problem started.

  “Remember the woman who worked at the hotel we stayed at there?” I asked the group.

  “Which woman?” Roscoe countered.

  “The one with the blue eyes, gorgeous mouth, and sassy attitude,” I clarified. “She was the one who checked us in the day we arrived.”

  “Oh, the one who was just as pissed as Beck was at that douchebag in the underwear who cheated on his wife?” Killian guessed.

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Okay, so what happened with her?” Holland wondered.

  Shaking my head, feeling nothing but disappointment, I answered honestly, “Nothing. Well, I mean, not anything that I wanted to have happen. I asked her for her number, talked with her, teased her about coming up to my suite, and gave her tickets to our show. Shit, I even called the hotel to talk to her a couple days after we got back on the road.”

  “I didn’t know you called her,” Beck said.

  “I did.”

  I’d left them all shocked. With the exception of Beck’s declaration, nobody spoke. The tension mounted in my body. Tonight was going to be a disaster of a show. There was no way I could perform on stage when I was terrified I’d never be able to perform in a bed again. Hell, it didn’t even need to be a bed. I’d settle for just about anywhere.

  Finally, Holland bubbled, “Aw, Cash, this is great news.”

  I shot her a look of disbelief. “Excuse me?”

  “I think you’re ready to settle down,” she explained.

  No, I wasn’t. I just wanted a night with Demi. Maybe two. Okay, depending on how it all went down, I could probably see myself being very happy having her sassy mouth around for much longer than that.

  That didn’t mean I was ready to settle down in the way Holland was indicating.

  “I don’t think that’s it,” I told her.

  “That’s exactly it,” Beck stated.

  “Let’s go back for her,” Holland declared.

  “What?”

  “After we play our last show before the break on Wednesday night, we’ll go back to New Hampshire,” she said.

  “We were supposed to be getting to our next location early so everyone could have some time to relax,” I reminded her.

  Before Holland could answer, Killian said, “Yeah, but we can’t spend the next however many weeks listening to you talk about your cock, Cash. Time off is time off. We can do it anywhere.”

  “Agreed,” Walker chimed in. “I’m down to go back.”

  “Me too,” Roscoe said. “Moral support and all.”

  My eyes slid to Beck, and he gave me a nod.

  I had a feeling I knew what was going on in the back of his mind. He would have zero problem returning to the place where he knew a single mom was waiting and struggling. Heading back might give him the opportunity to check in on her, assuming he could locate her. I wasn’t sure she’d ever followed up and reached out to him after he’d given her his number.

  “So, it’s settled then,” Holland declared. “I’m so excited for you, Cash. You’ll be the first man down.”

  Shaking my head, I told her, “It’s not going to be as easy as you think. It’s not as simple as just showing up there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s not interested in me,” I shared. “Or, I should say, she claims she’s not interested in me.”

  “But you got her number and talked to her on the phone,” Killian reasoned. “Isn’t that enough to indicate she has at least some interest.”

  When I explained this, they were going to think I was crazy. Any chance I had to go back and see her was going to go right down the tubes. The last thing they’d want is for us to get caught up in some situation where I was chasing after a girl who didn’t want me.r />
  But I needed to do this. I needed to see her. If nothing else, I’d resort to begging. Okay, I wouldn’t do that.

  But fuck, what was happening to me?

  “I asked for her number, but I never got it,” I admitted. When their eyes went wide, I added, “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and she’s got an attitude that I love, but she wants absolutely nothing to do with me. I called the hotel’s number just so I could hear her voice.”

  “Maybe you should move on then,” Roscoe suggested.

  “I would if I could,” I assured him. “But Demi broke my dick.”

  Holland put her hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze. “Your penis isn’t broken, Cash,” she insisted. “It’s just tired of random, meaningless hookups. Give it the one woman it wants, even if that means the rest of you has to work to make that happen. It wouldn’t kill you to put in a little bit of effort.”

  The voice of reason. She made everything sound so simple, but she didn’t know what I knew. She hadn’t heard Demi’s words on the phone.

  Maybe that was the problem.

  I’d already made my mind up when I talked to her on the phone. Hearing some of the things she said had me thinking twice about the direction I was heading with my life.

  It wasn’t as though I was on a bad path filled with drugs and booze. Sure, we occasionally had a fun night out as a group, but we didn’t touch anything more than a couple of drinks.

  But it wasn’t a secret that I’d spent the better part of my career taking advantage of the perks. Beyond that, it was just as Demi said. I hadn’t really cared if the women I’d been with wanted more than just a one-night stand. The reason for that was that I never wanted more than that with them.

  She was different, though.

  Nobody but her had ever made me want more. I had hoped she’d tell me that she wanted me to come back, that she wanted to see me again.

  And when she didn’t give me that, suffice it to say, I didn’t like how it felt.

  Maybe I was getting a taste of my own medicine.

  What hit me the most about our entire conversation was not that she’d figured me all out, but it was the disappointed tone I could hear in her voice that had me second-guessing a lot of the choices I’d made.