Skipped a Beat

by Salsbury, JB

  He tilts his head and shoots me his signature lazy grin. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this.” He exhales a shaky breath. “I’ve played twenty-seven live shows with Jesse, and before that in my old band over a hundred, and I have never messed up.”

  “You messed up? I didn’t notice.” Not that I would, I guess.

  “When I play, usually the entire world disappears and it’s just me and the music, but then suddenly you were there. In my head. Your smile, your laughter, even the way you look at me like you wished I was dead, I could see it, ya know? While I was playing. And I had to see you. Knowing where you’re always standing, I turned to look at you. Usually, that wouldn’t be a problem for me. Timing is so embedded into my soul, I could hold a conversation, read a book, do long algebra while I was playing and never screw up. But I looked at you, and you smiled, and...” He huffs out a breath of laughter as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say.

  “What?”

  “I fucked up. Lost the pocket. Took me seconds—and seconds is a fucking lifetime for a drummer—to get back into the pocket. I skipped a beat.”

  My heart flutters and my stomach tumbles. A smile I have zero control over stretches across my face. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifts a brow. “You don’t look sorry.”

  “I think that’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.”

  “That’s just sad, babe.” He’s still grinning, his smile cute and boyish, a little insecure. “Anyway, nothing has ever made me do that before. Not playing for big time agents, record execs, even when I played for Jesse the first time… I’ve never fucked up like that. It says something, ya know?”

  “Yeah, it says I’m a distraction.”

  “A beautiful fucking distraction.” His lean, powerful muscles flex as he prowls on all fours over the food to kiss me. “We have something here, Jade.” He studies my face so long I get self-conscious, wondering what he sees.

  Can he sense I’ve lied, stolen, broken the law, and broken up a family? And worse.

  “Last night only proves it.” He kisses me one more time, then hops up. “I wish I could stay locked in this room with you all day, but I have to get in the shower and meet the guys for press and sound check.”

  I turn and watch his lithe body move around the room. “Need company?”

  His head jerks around, eyes wide. “You offering?”

  “No.” I shrug. “I thought I’d run down to the lobby and grab a handful of groupies to suds you up real good.” I wink playfully even though my stomach sinks a little with the truth.

  A woman like me could never hold the attention of a man in Ryder’s position for long. Chemistry or not, he’ll always have his pick of women, and there’s no way I can compete with that.

  He struts toward me, all swagger and narrow hips, and holds his hand out to help me up. “I don’t want a handful of groupies, Jade. I only want my hands full of you.”

  “Good answer.”

  He drags me to the bathroom, and the immediate swell of excitement is doused in reality.

  All men will say one woman is enough, the right woman is enough, and they may even believe it.

  Until they don’t.

  Ryder

  “Well, well, well… don’t you look freshly fucked and ready to go.” Ethan pinches my cheek, and I swat his hand away but can’t stop grinning.

  I’ve never been with a woman who craves sex as much as I do. Hell, I’ve never been with a woman who makes me crave sex the way Jade does. And when we’re together, we’re insatiable. The forty-five minute shower we took proves that. My fingers are still wrinkly.

  Ethan chuckles as we head down the hotel hallway to the elevators where Chris and our security team wait. “’Bout time, dude. I was starting to think your dick would shrivel up and fall off if you didn’t start using it for what it’s intended for.”

  “I’m surprised you’re cool with this,” I say quietly as we get closer to our meeting point. “I thought you were into Jade.”

  He wrinkles his nose. “Ew, dude. No.”

  I stop walking and glare at him. Is he fucking nuts? “Ew?”

  He stops and rolls his eyes. “She’s like a sister to me.”

  We continue walking. “You don’t have a sister.”

  “I know. She’s like what I would assume it would be like to have a sister.”

  I lift my chin at the guys as we settle next to them, waiting for Jesse. “Or is she like a sister to you because you realized right away you didn’t stand a chance of getting in her pants?”

  He snaps and points at me. “Exactly.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not the same as her being like a sister, you sick fuck.”

  “A sister is a hot chick you don’t get to screw,” he says impatiently as if I’m the one who’s slow to catch up.

  “We need to stop talking about this. I don’t want to hate you.” I turn my back on Ethan to talk to Chris who looks a little green, his eyes puffy. “You sick?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”

  “You don’t look good. You look like shit.”

  Ethan studies him. “You hung over or something?”

  “Something like that,” he mumbles as a door down the hallway slams shut.

  Jesse saunters out of his suite with a goofy grin that matches my own. Are all men this obvious after getting a full night of off-the-charts sex?

  “Bethany wanted me to tell you she just talked to Jade, and they’re making plans, so you don’t need to worry about getting her to the venue tonight,” he says as we all pile into the elevator.

  “Cool, tell her thanks.” I lean back against the wall and shove my hands in my pockets feeling my phone and wishing Jade would use hers so I could text her. I’ve been away from her for all of five minutes, and I already miss her.

  “You and Jade, huh?” Chris says from his position next to me.

  “Yep.”

  He nods. “I was leery about her at first, but after getting to know her,” he shrugs. “She’s cool.”

  And sexy, and funny, and sweet, and all the other shit love songs are written about. I clear my throat. “Yeah, she is. I like her. A lot.”

  Now that the band knows she’s not just sex to me, not a dirty little secret I plan to keep, I want to yell from the rooftops. I want to make a big public display to show the world she’s mine. Telling the band and crew is the first step. The general public will hear whispers and make assumptions after seeing us together enough, but I won’t confirm anything until I know Jade is ready.

  The Jesse Lee fandom was brutal to Bethany when they went public. I don’t want to unleash that kind of hell on Jade until I’m sure she’s ready for it.

  And if she’s not, then we’ll keep it private and let the haters make up whatever the fuck they want. I don’t know how this thing between us will play out, but I know one thing for sure. If she spooks and runs, I’ll chase.

  “You guys made the paper,” Ty says and flashes us the front page of the local section. It’s a photo of us playing at the shelter and one of Jesse handing out plates of food. The headline reads More Than Music: Jesse Lee and His Band Give Back.

  Only we know the real story, that if it weren’t for Jade, we never would’ve been there to begin with. Giving back to a community wouldn’t have even been on our radar if it weren’t for her.

  “I was thinking we should make this a thing. Work it into our next tour schedule to hit up some local children’s hospitals and shelters in different cities,” Jesse says, and we all agree.

  Another thanks to Jade and her bigger-than-average-size heart.

  The lobby is fairly quiet and littered with hotel security as they’ve resorted to asking people for proof that they’re staying in the hotel to avoid groupies camping out all day. Hotel management always welcomes us when we come, and I get the feeling they throw a party when we go.

  We keep a fairly tight huddle as we’re ushered into a waiting SUV. The roar of fans ign
ites once we pull out into the street lined with people who can’t even see us through the tinted windows. It’s a short trip to the arena where we’re led into a room of press for interviews. Most questions are for Jesse, but I’ve noticed a recent influx of questions for me, most specifically revolving around my personal life and the name tattooed on my chest. I smile charmingly and let Ethan steal the spotlight, redirecting the conversation to his love life, and the reporters eat it up.

  Life on the road is a lot of hurry up and wait, so we sit in our dressing room and twiddle our thumbs until its time for sound check.

  There’s a knock on the door, and Chris yells, “Come in!”

  Ansel sticks his head in, his black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. “What’s up, guys?” He comes in and closes the door behind him. He’s wearing Adidas track pants and a Megadeath T-shirt, which strikes me as an odd combination. It’s not like he just came from working out, not with his knuckles wrapped in those big-ass rings.

  “What’s up, guys?” he says, and we all give him a nod of acknowledgement, all of us except Jesse who acts as though no one even entered the room. The guy zeroes in on me. “Ryder, can I get a word?”

  Can I get a word? Fuck, this guy sounds like my dad. I lean back and shrug. “Sure, what’s up?”

  He sits on the coffee table in front of me. “I wanted to talk to you about Rachel.”

  My eyes narrow. “What about her?”

  “I hung out with her in Vegas.” Translation: He fucked her. “And we’ve been talking.”

  “Cool. What do you want, a medal?”

  He smirks. “Nah, man. But I want to see her again, and she said she won’t see me unless I make sure you’re cool with it.”

  Typical Rachel.

  My fists clench at my sides, not because I give a shit about Rachel and Ansel but because she’d open her body to a guy like Ansel just so I would hear about it. “She’s all yours.”

  He narrows his gaze. “You sure? She’s fucking hot. And you’re totally cool with her moving on to me?”

  “She’s beautiful. And yeah, Rach is a big girl. She can date whoever she wants. I’m happy she’s moving on.” I say nothing about how she moved on with someone else well before we broke up, but it’s not my secret to tell. Knowing her, she’ll show him that side of her soon enough.

  He nods and grins, reaching out to shake my hand. Is this really fucking necessary? I hold back a groan and shake the man’s hand, then watch as he bounces out of the room, hitting buttons on his phone.

  I almost feel sorry for him.

  Once Rachel realizes her little plan to get to me didn’t work, she’ll either give up or increase her efforts. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that. The chick is ruthless when she wants something. She got out of a speeding ticket once by telling the cop her dad had just died and she was coming back from viewing his body. Conjured fake tears and everything.

  At the time, I thought it was funny.

  Now I realize I should’ve broken up with her then.

  After killing a little more time in our dressing room, we finally get to sound check. When we’re finished, I hop down from the drum platform and see Jade there waiting for me.

  She’s wearing skinny jeans and a short T-shirt that gives me a tiny glimpse of her belly button. I smile inwardly with the secret knowledge of how sweet her belly button tastes. Her hair falls around her shoulders, tempting me to push it back and dive into her neck, and she smiles as if she can read my thoughts.

  She jumps in my arms, and I catch her by the ass. Our lips come together, and her hands sift into my hair as she licks into my mouth. A low hum vibrates in my chest as I’m flooded with her taste—mint, coffee, and Jade.

  “I missed you,” I say when I finally come up for air.

  “I missed you more.”

  I release her to slide down my body and set her on her feet, although I don’t allow even inches of space between us. “What did you do all day?”

  “All day?” She lifts a brow. “You left the hotel three hours ago.”

  “Felt like all day.”

  Her fists are tight in my shirt, and I wonder if she realizes how fiercely she’s holding on to me. Not that I mind, I fucking love it. “I showered, packed, and Bethany and I grabbed a Starbucks on our way here. What about you?”

  I contemplate telling her about my visit from Ansel but decide against it. I don’t want anything polluting what we have, and it’s Relationship 101 that any mention of an ex has the potential to pollute. “Thought about you, talked about you, thought about last night with you.” I run my thumb along her cheek as visions of our bodies tangled together flicker in my mind’s eye and make blood rush between my legs.

  “Oh.” Her gaze drops to the space between us and she bites her lip. “What are you thinking about now?”

  I lean in to put my lips to her ear. “You on your knees in the shower this morning.” I shiver at the memory of her wicked tongue, the suction, and her tight little fist.

  She hums against my throat. “That was fun.”

  I drop my forehead to her shoulder. “I’d give anything to be back in that hotel with you.”

  “Tonight we’re in the bus. Separate bunks.”

  “You think those tiny bunks will keep me away from you, you’re crazy.” I wink and back away, needing some distance to get rid of the semi quickly growing behind my zipper. I adjust my jeans, and she laughs. I hook my hand around her shoulders, and we walk back toward the dressing room. By the time we get there, I’ve thankfully calmed down enough not to embarrass myself.

  A handful more shows on this tour and then we’ll be back in Los Angeles, where we can spend uninterrupted time together and hopefully I can convince her to stay.

  21

  Jade

  “You know I’m not going to be able to look at you, right?” Those words are spoken into my ear over the roar of the Seattle crowd.

  My stomach tumbles, my skin electrified by not only the energy of thousands of chanting fans but also by the knowledge that Ryder is this affected by me.

  He presses a kiss to my jaw. “Try to be less distracting, okay?”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

  His hand slides down and takes a fistful of my ass, making me squeak before he jogs into the dark and up to the drum platform.

  Bethany’s just finished kissing Jesse, and she sidles up next to me with a grin that probably matches my own. What does it say about my feelings for Ryder? That I’m attracted to him? Enjoy his company? Because I refuse to fall in love again.

  That’s not what Ryder and I have anyway. We’re two consenting adults fulfilling a purely physical need and maybe having a little fun while we do it.

  When I’m with him, he makes me forget the mess I left behind and the mess I’ll be walking into once we hit Los Angeles.

  The guys play an amazing show. Ryder catches my eye a few times, mostly between songs, but he did sneak a couple peeks while playing and laughed when he caught me staring. I found it impossible to take my eyes off him.

  He stayed glued to my side at intermission and even tossed me his sweat-soaked shirt when he took it off mid-show. I should’ve been disgusted, holding the wet fabric still warm from being plastered to his skin. I should’ve, but I wasn’t.

  Well look at that… I’m a full-fledged groupie.

  A RydeRDie chick.

  Bethany and I sing along to the songs, clap and holler with the crowd, and when the show finally ends and they’ve played their encore song, I’m hot and anxious to get Ryder alone.

  He throws his sticks into the crowd, and my mouth waters at his tall, lean, sweat-soaked body. Tight, flawless skin over sleek muscles and jeans that hang a little too low—God, what is it about a drummer?

  He jumps down from the platform and says something to Ethan who laughs, and just like in the movies, Ryder seems to move in slow motion as he prowls toward me, his gaze searing. He stops just shy of reaching me, and I shove both arms forward, offer
ing him a towel.

  One side of his mouth lifts as he takes in my expression. What does he see there? Fear? Excitement? Can he sense the turmoil surging inside me?

  How am I going to walk away from this man?

  He slips the towel from my grip. “Thank you.”

  I snap out of myself long enough to say, “Another great show.”

  He dries his head and the back of his neck. “You liked it?”

  “Of course.” What a stupid question.

  His expression grows serious. “I’m glad.” He steps close to tower over me. “I need to grab a shower. Wanna come?”

  Does he mean—the sound of collapsing gear makes me jump. His close proximity makes my nerves hypersensitive. A group of roadies pass by with wheeled carts as they begin to break down the stage and load it up.

  “I can’t.”

  His eyebrows pinch together, but his expression is playful. “I know from experience that you can.”

  I laugh, but the sound is awkward, and what the fuck is wrong with me? “I’ll, uh… I’ll meet you at the bus.”

  “Suit yourself.” He presses his lips to my forehead and turns away. I watch his tall frame, broad shoulders and narrow hips, saunter away while chatting with Ethan, and my feet are frozen in place as I admire his sexy swagger.

  I snag a bottle of ice-cold water and press it to my forehead and cheeks. What the hell has this man done to me? I’ve always enjoyed sex, but this… this feels different.

  Is it because he’s a rock star? He’s famous. Is this what a life with Ryder would be like? Constantly being on tour and crammed into a one-man bunk on a bus for months on end? Worried he’d fall for the next pretty face, the next damsel in distress? He has a life I can never be a permanent fixture in.

  I don’t care to think too hard on these things, so I make myself useful by tossing empty bottles and grabbing the extra few to bring to the bus.

  Stop worrying about what will never be.

  * * *

  I waited for Ryder on the bus for an hour and a half before I finally gave up and went to bed. With no concept of time in my little sleeping capsule, I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep before I wake to the feeling of heat at my back and whispered breath at my ear. “Scoot, babe.”