Skipped a Beat

by Salsbury, JB

  I don’t know why, but my gaze is drawn to Ryder, and I catch him scowling at Ethan seconds before he turns away.

  “Drink up!” Ethan holds out his glass to cheers mine. “Once you get a nice buzz, we’re dancing!”

  When I look back to find Ryder, he’s gone.

  * * *

  Two drinks and one hour into our night at The Church and the tension finally slips from my shoulders. The music isn’t something I’d add to my personal playlist, but I find the throbbing beat seductive and eventually sway to it.

  Earlier in the night, I had a nice chat with Bethany. She told me how she and Jesse met. She calls him Jesiah, his real name. I can see now why a man like him would be attracted to her. I hardly know her and felt at ease in her presence. Accepted even. She’s grounding, real, not fake like I’d imagine someone in her position would be. I can see why Jesse appreciates her. She loves him in a way he can depend on.

  Eventually Jesse gets sick of sharing her and pulls her up to dance. He buries his face in her neck, his hands are all over her ass, and she whispers in his ear and makes him smile. I yearn to have what they have. The trust and mutual faith in each other is evident in every interaction they have.

  Chris is at the bar. He has his back to the room as he chats with the bartenders, sucking down beers like they’re water. At Ethan’s request, a few female fans were let up into our VIP balcony, and he’s occupied himself by allowing them to make him the meat in a groupie sandwich.

  The prettiest of the three women is currently in a booth with Ryder. Her wavy brown hair falls over generous breasts, and her green eyes are wide and exotic.

  My blood is on a slow rise from simmer to boil.

  Does he realize how his lazy grin and chilled out confidence affects the opposite sex?

  I get the feeling he’s completely unaware of the signals he’s sending this poor woman, and I’m certain however she thinks this night will end, it most definitely will not. Ryder might be a flirt, but he doesn’t strike me as a cheater.

  Says the girl without cheater radar.

  No shit. What do I know? I was making wedding plans for months with a man who was already married.

  I slug back the rest of my drink and decide it’s time for one more. I stand too quickly, stumble over the table footing, and thankfully catch my fall on a nearby chair. Laughter bubbles up from my chest as I push to my full height and then look around to check if anyone saw me.

  Everyone seems unaware as they all remain where I left them.

  All except Ryder whose glare bores through me. He mouths, You okay?

  I laugh again and wave him off. “I’m fine,” I say even though I know he can’t hear me. I smooth my flannel and squint at the floor to make sure there’s nothing else I could trip on. I take a step and run forehead-first into Ryder’s chest.

  His arms become a steel band around my waist, and his lips press to my ear over my hair. Not a kiss but a warning before he says, “How much have you had to drink?” He doesn’t move back an inch, and I allow him to hold me up because the security and dependability of his touch feels amazing.

  “I’ve only had two.”

  “You fucked up?” His breath is hot against my hair, and I shiver.

  I wonder what we look like from the outside, him embracing me fully, my fingers curled into the front of his shirt between us, my head on his chest, and his lips to my hair. And stupidly, I lean in closer.

  “Jade,” he says in a soft way that makes my name sound like a moan.

  “I’m a little buzzed. I don’t have much of a tolerance for alcohol.”

  “Did you eat dinner?”

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I feel him shake his head.

  “I, uh…” I pull back enough to see his face, and when he looks at me, his gaze feels like a caress.

  “Let’s dance.”

  I look past his shoulder to Jesse who has his mouth seared to Bethany’s. Ethan’s going back and forth between kissing his two dates, and the brunette who was talking to Ryder is now at the bar with Chris.

  I didn’t agree to dance with Ryder, but at his lead, we begin to sway in time with the beat. I allow him to take me with him, submitting to his guidance as we move together to the slow, exotic pulse of the music. He moves his hands to my hips and slides them up to grab my wrists and peel my fingers from his shirt. He shifts and spins me around so that my back is to his front. The muscles of his chest and rippled abs press against me. His hand splays on my stomach, and he dips his lips to my ear where he whispers, “Is this okay?”

  I drop my head back against his shoulder by way of answer and feel him smile against my temple.

  He moves his body as if he’s heard the song a million times and memorized every dip and rise in tempo. His hold is capable, possessive, and dominant. He digs his fingers into my hip before sliding up my side and taking my arm higher, where he loops it around the back of his neck. My palm lands on the smooth skin of his nape, and my fingers sift through his hair. So soft and just long enough to grip.

  He stiffens seconds before a satisfied rumble vibrates against my back, and I realize I’ve raked my nails against his scalp. I drop my arm and think to run away, only to be spun around and pulled into his embrace. “Don’t run from me. If you do, I’ll chase you.”

  Those words are coated in dark promise and have me stepping back a fraction to see his eyes. The way he looks at me… the heat shining in his blue gaze, the undeniable attraction evident in the firm ridge behind the zipper of his pants. If I don’t go now, I may never.

  “Wow.” My mouth suddenly dry, I lick my lips. “You’re a really good dancer.”

  “Yeah, well…” He steps closer. “Rhythm is kind of my thing.”

  Oh God… why does that make me think of how he’d move in other, more intimate places. Shit! I push visions of us in bed together out of my head. “I, uh… I have to use the bathroom.”

  His eyebrows lower, and he reluctantly steps back. He knows the same thing I do. Once I walk away, the spell will be broken, and we’ll go back to fighting and wanting to kill each other. When we lock eyes, the distance between us grows even though neither one of us has moved.

  “I can’t touch you even if I want to.” He drops his hands from my waist. “I belong to someone else.”

  “I know, but…” I run my teeth along my bottom lip, unsure if I should put a voice to my innermost thoughts.

  “But what? You’ve never held back on me before. Don’t start now.”

  “It’s just, when we were dancing, it sure felt like you belonged to me.”

  His eyes widen and then drop to the floor. “Jade.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “It was just a dance.”

  His words land a solid punch to the gut. Of course it was. Ryder’s a flirt. That’s all. I shrug, the warmth in my body draining quickly to leave behind a cold, empty hole in my chest. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Blondie.”

  His glare meets mine, and there’s something comforting about being back to where we began, walls up, attractions hidden, and a whole fuckton of sexual tension straining between us.

  I turn quickly and head for the bathroom, all the while wondering how serious Ryder was when he said if I ran, he’d chase me.

  Is he behind me now?

  Will he chase me down?

  I get to the bathroom and spin around, only to find that his threats are just as weak as his resistance.

  Ryder

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  Having Jade come into my arms willingly snapped the last of my self-control. I told myself I was only helping her to stand, that I had to speak closely to her ear to be heard over the music, that I danced with her to send a message to the handsy brunette from earlier that I was off limits.

  I justified my reasons, and it didn’t take much. I bought all my own bullshit just to keep her in my arms, her body pliant as she allowed me to move against her. With her. It conjured a million d
ifferent images of us together, feeling her skin beneath my palms, our hips in rhythm together… and then her nails bit into my neck and I knew, I fucking knew, she was right there with me.

  She wants me just as badly as I want her.

  The confirmation sent me reeling, and reality came crashing down on me like the worlds coldest shower.

  It was just a dance.

  God, I’m such a dick.

  She knew I was backpedaling, called me on my bullshit, making me want to bury my hands in her hair, bend her backward, and kiss her until we were both breathless and bruised to prove just how much our bodies moving together affected me.

  And I would’ve done it too, but…

  There’s one thing stopping me.

  I snag my phone from my pocket and hit Rachel’s number before ducking into the quiet, private men’s restroom.

  Hi, this is Rach. You know what to do.

  Beeeep.

  “Rach, it’s Ryder. Call me as soon as you get this. I don’t care how late it is. It’s important.”

  I hang up and go to my text messages.

  You there?

  I’m not that much of a dick to end a close-to-a-year relationship over text message, but at least I can get her to call me. Breaking up with her over the phone is a dick move too, but I refuse to touch Jade again while I’m in a relationship with someone else, and there’s no fucking way I’ll be able to keep my hands off my little stowaway for much longer.

  Rachel, call me ASAP.

  I hit send and shove my phone into my pocket. I splash my face with cold water and will all my blood to redirect to other parts of my body and give my dick a rest. I stare in the mirror and picture Jade in front of me, her eyes closed as she rubs her sweet ass against my—no! I spin around and take a few cleansing breaths.

  After pulling my phone back out, I check to see if I missed a call or text in the fifteen seconds I wasn’t actively looking at it.

  Nothing.

  “Where the fuck is she?” I drop my chin and groan. “Just accept it. This shit isn’t happening, at least not tonight,” I whisper. “I’ll wait.” I take deep breaths in and out. “We can wait.”

  “Nice,” Ethan says when he stumbles into the bathroom. “And here I thought I was the only one who talked to my dick.” He looks down at his crotch. “Come on, Justin Beaver. Let’s go take a piss.”

  Grateful for the change of subject because nothing will deflate a boner faster than Ethan baby-talking his dick, I adjust my jeans and head back out into the club with new purpose.

  I’m not touching Jade tonight.

  Not until I break up with Rachel.

  And then, I’m going to make my move.

  12

  Ryder

  The next morning, I’m pulled violently from a dream where I’m feeding an angry, feral wolf gummy bears to the sound of someone throwing their body against the door. My hip aches like a motherfucker when I try to sit up, and it takes me a few minutes to remember where I am.

  “Open up or I’ll piss in your suitcase!”

  “Ethan?” I crack my head on something hard. Rubbing the quickly forming lump, I stare at an ornate silver faucet as the evening comes back to me.

  Ahh, yes. I slept in the bathtub.

  My muscles protest as I push myself up and out of the larger-than-average tub. Ethan insisted on bringing both of the women from the club back to our room last night, and I refused to sleep in the bed two feet away from where he was fucking. I grabbed a pillow and the comforter and locked myself inside.

  I shake out my arm to get feeling back into my numb shoulder. I’m still wearing my jeans and T-shirt from last night, but I managed to get off my shoes and socks.

  “Ryder, dude! I’m turning yellow—”

  “I’m coming!” I shuffle to the door, pop the lock, and there’s Ethan wearing nothing but a sheet as he pushes past me.

  The moment I step into the room, I’m hit with the stagnant scent of sex and liquor. A bottle of vodka sits half empty on the side table next to two passed-out females. I get close enough to see their shoulders rise and fall and blow out a thankful breath that they’re still alive.

  This is the kind of thing I always imagined happened on rock tours, and I have to say, it’s not nearly as exciting as I thought it would be.

  I crack the curtains and let in the late morning sunlight, hoping it’ll rouse these two and get them out. My phone is dead from being left in my pocket, and I push aside empty candy bar wrappers and half-eaten bags of chips to plug it in.

  Rachel never did get back to me last night. For the rest of the night, Jade talked to Bethany, and I stayed away until we made the call it was time to get back to the hotel. Jade and I kept our distance, not making eye contact or speaking a word. It doesn’t mean I didn’t watch her. I made sure she got back to her room and the door was closed and locked behind her.

  “I’ve been holding that in all night,” Ethan says as he flops onto the unoccupied bed.

  “You need to wake up your dates and get them home.”

  He turns back and looks at them. “Yo! Wake up!”

  Amateur.

  I step to the end of the bed and grab a foot through the comforter. “Good morning,” I say softly and give the foot a little shake. “Time to go.” Another shake.

  One rolls over, flinging her arm out and right into the other girl’s face. She grimaces and mumbles, “Ouch.”

  “Come on, it’s late. We need to get to the arena, and you can’t stay here.”

  The blonde rubs her eyes and sits up, and the comforter falls down her naked body to her waist. I glare at Ethan who stares at the woman’s tits like he’s being served breakfast.

  “Ethan.”

  When he looks at me, I shake my head and mouth no.

  He pouts.

  “Call Ty and have him come pick these ladies up and get them in a cab.” I pull clean clothes out of my bag and head toward the bathroom. “They need to be gone by the time I’m out of the shower.”

  “Yes, Dad,” Ethan says as he crawls back under covers with the two women.

  “I’m serious. They need to go.”

  “All right, all right…” His words trail off as he puts his mouth on the woman’s breasts.

  I lock myself in the bathroom for the second time in twelve hours, making a vow to never share a room with Ethan again.

  Jade

  I’m staring at the blank screen of the new iPhone Helen gave me, trying to build the courage to use it. Being a guest of the band, I’m not privy to the schedule of events, and fearing I might miss the caravan back to the buses, I’ve been up since six o’clock, peeking out into the hallway, waiting for someone to come get me.

  I had coffee in the room, and although it did wonders to wake me, it tasted off. I’m used to thick hospital coffee, the Folgers that sits in a pot for ten hours, not the fresh-brewed French press with a fancy brand name.

  The television is on, but it provides nothing but background noise, and I wonder if I should go knock on Chris’s or Jesse’s door to get the plans for the day. I will not—no, I refuse—to knock on Ethan and Ryder’s door. I heard the women laughing when they passed my room, and I peeked out just in time to see them disappear into Ethan and Ryder’s.

  Two women.

  Two rock stars.

  I’ve seen enough movies to know how last night ended for them.

  I shake my head because, again, Ryder doesn’t strike me as a cheater, but the way his hands moved over me last night, I’m rethinking my assessment.

  There’s a knock at my door. I stand, mumbling, “Finally,” and I’m surprised to see Bethany there. She looks fresh-faced, rested, and very recently fucked, what with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

  “Good morning!” She reaches forward, handing me an insulated cup. “I hope you like cappuccinos.”

  I take the cup and nod. “I do, thank you.”

  “Oh!” Her brown eyes brighten. “This is for you too.” She pulls over a roll
ing, metallic suitcase. “For your new things.”

  I scowl at the rectangle with wheels. “Who’s this from?”

  “Helen, I guess?” she says and shrugs. “I don’t really know. Max saw me heading for your room and told me to give it to you.”

  “Thank you.” I pull it into the room and wait. Surely she came here for another reason.

  “Did you have a fun time last night?” she asks, rocking back and forth on her feet. I wonder if I should invite her in.

  “Sure. Why?”

  “Just wondering. I, uh… I noticed you and Ryder seemed close.”

  “Not really. We were just dancing.” His interpretation. Not mine.

  “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I shrug like it’s no big deal because it should be no big deal even though my insides are screaming that it’s a really big freakin’ deal. “Thank you for this.” I hold up the coffee. “And for the luggage.”

  “No worries. If you need anything else, let me—”

  The door down the hallway opens and draws both of our eyes to the two beautiful women from last night. I thought the two girls being delivered to Ryder’s room last night were the ones Ethan had been kissing at the club, but I recognize the dark, gorgeous hair immediately, and my breath freezes in my lungs. The beautiful brunette Ryder had been talking to most of the night steps out behind a blonde, and Ryder follows.

  Damn he looks good.

  Black jeans and a black T-shirt make his golden skin stand out and his dirty blond hair seem even blonder. He closes the door behind him and heads our way, leaning slightly to bring his six-foot-something stature to the five-foot-nothing girl who has her heels dangling from her hand. I can’t hear what she says, but he nods and gives her a small, placating smile.

  As they get closer to my open door, I feel Bethany’s attention shift from the three of them to me, but I can’t stop staring. There’s a familiarity between them. It’s something about Ryder’s easy gait and the women’s satiated faces and loose muscles, as if they spent all night screwing each other senseless.