Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) (17 page)

“They do,” I answered, and left it at that. “Once we’re done here, I’d love to talk about possibly coming back to Vegas and getting you to add to my sleeves.”

“You’re not from here?”

Caylee snorted. “You mean my wide-eyed,
I-must-look-everywhere-at-once
expression didn’t give us away?”

Ever since we arrived, I’d worried about her getting whiplash from how many times she turned back and forth looking at everything. As a veteran visitor, I was used to the flashing lights, crowds, tinkling noise of the casino’s slot machines.

I almost choked on the water I’d been drinking when Caylee had innocently asked where the hell she was supposed to look when on the Strip. Granted, that was after different people had tried shoving cards with naked women into her hands, but it still made me laugh. Between them and the cards discarded all over the floor, I was surprised she wanted to touch anything. I’d hugged her and suggested she try not to look down. She’d taken the advice seriously, immediately tipping her head back so she could gaze at the sky.

Until she misjudged her step and almost tripped—right before renaming the Strip
Porn Street
.

“I make it a point to never judge, but, yeah, I noticed.”

“We drove up for a weekend getaway,” I offered, trying to relax as Six focused on my chest. It felt weird as shit having another man touching my nipple. “We’re celebrating Caylee’s academic achievements and going to see a friend’s band play.”

He quietly tugged on my areola and I resisted the urge to punch him. “Sorry, let me know if it’s uncomfortable. I’ll be using a needle to numb the base here so I can start the piercing. Just need to see what I’m working with.” He must’ve been satisfied, because he pushed away from the bench, returning shortly after with a tray set up with alcohol wipes, a huge fucking needle or rod, and clamps. At the sight of it, Caylee face drained of color a little and her fingers tightened on my arm.

It was cute how she was worried for me.

“We’re good, man,” I answered. “I took a bullet in the back and thigh. I know pain. I can handle it.” I didn’t mention I also had a cabinet worth of pharmaceuticals in case I couldn’t.

“So you’re in school, Caylee? My girl’s thinking about registering for a course or two. What’s your major?” With a slight pinch, I felt the syringe’s needle break skin, and I clenched my jaw involuntarily.

“Psychology. It’s my first year and I was just recently awarded a scholarship. It’s not a big deal.” Even now, Caylee liked to downplay her accomplishments.

“Pfft,” I fired.

“What he said,” Six added. “It’s a big deal. I’d be celebrating it too. Life’s too short not to. Brooklyn, that’s my girlfriend’s name, is looking at maybe doing a degree with History or English literature. She has a thing for learning, and me? I have a thing for sexy scholars named Brooklyn.”

Keeping still as he injected the numbing solution into the other side of my nipple, I winked at her. “I hear you. I have a certain weakness and addiction to all things Caylee Sawyer.” It was cheesy as fuck, but I didn’t care.

“You sure you want to keep watching?” Six’s question was for Caylee. I liked this guy a lot. He saw she was nervous and was helping to keep her calm. Made it easier for me to relax as well. “Or want me to bring you in a chair?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Promise. If I feel like I’m going to faint, I’ll let you know.”

Six paused, a white cotton swab between his fingers as he wiped away the blood and liquid oozing out of the two puncture wounds. “I don’t mind fainting. It’s just a bitch to clean up after squeamish stomachs. It’s the janitor’s day off so I’m the lucky bastard who gets to do it.”

She held up her hand over her heart. “Then I promise to try extra hard.” He studied her for a moment and nodded.

“Just in case.” Six pushed a trashcan over to her with his foot and passed her one of the handheld fans from a drawer. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“You speak from experience,” I said.

Six shuddered dramatically. “Hell yeah.” Holding up what looked like pliers or clamps, he opened and closed them, the metal prongs making a soft click sound. “Ready? If everything is sufficiently numb, let’s get started.”

Caylee burst out into an almost manic laugh. “Oh my gosh . . . I just had this image pop up in my head.” Whatever it was made her cheeks redden. “Reminded me I need to make an appointment with my gynecologist.”

It was our turn to stop, surprised by what she’d said. I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open. “Say what?”

“This reminds me a little about what it’s like getting a Pap smear.
Are you ready?
. . .
You might feel a small sting or pinch
. . . you know?”

“Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but we don’t know. But I appreciate you trying to help me relax.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. There’s nothing relaxing about getting a Pap smear. They suck and rank up there with getting your toenails pulled out with a plier. But hey . . . it was still funny.”

“I like her,” Six whispered, smirking as he applied pressure to the clamp he had twisting my nipple around with. “How’s that feel?”

“Something tells me there really isn’t a lot of appropriate ways to answer that,” I replied, my teeth gritted as I adjusted to how weird it felt. “But I’m guessing you’re asking if the numbing agent is working. It is.”

“Then hold as still as you can, man.” And with that warning, he lifted another rod-like needle to my chest.

Fuck.

As he started sliding it into the base of my nipple, Caylee gasped, and I stared up at her.

The things I did for love.

For her.

No regrets.

Chapter Eighteen

Caylee

“I’m surprised he let you leave the hotel room looking like that, Caylee.” There was no point denying that Rebecca’s compliment made me feel good. Even though I hadn’t been the one to pack my overnight bag, there was no complaining over how kick ass the outfit made me look and feel.

I hadn’t noticed the attention as we all climbed out of the taxi into the outside valet area of the
Hard Rock Hotel and Casino.

But Cooper had. There was no mistaking the possessive curl of his arm around my shoulders as he kept me close. It was a clear signal to anyone watching that in order to get to me, they would need to go through him. Judging from the alpha gleam in his eyes, he was fully aware of how sexy the black designer jeans looked as the fabric hugged my behind like a glove. I had no idea where the tank top came from—the words,
Good Girls Go To Heaven. Bad Girls Go Everywhere
, scrolled across my chest. With a long chain around my neck, a blinged out skull hanging just below my breasts . . . I looked like sin. At least, that was the feeling I sensed from Cooper.

At the last moment, Rebecca had shoved an assortment of leather bands for my wrist—one in particular with a series of crucifix tiles attached to the weaving. Those were my favorite.

It was a little more
rock girl
than I usually wore which made it perfect. If we were here to celebrate and have a good time, there was no point playing it safe.

Go big or go home.

Or in my case, go back to the hotel and show Cooper just how
bad
I could be. I was his number one groupie and fan, after all. I had no problem rocking his world and then some.

“Remind me to thank you tomorrow morning,” I whispered discretely, watching as Cooper, Marty, Aidan, and Troy scanned the casino for directions to where Wasted Malice were playing in an hour. There was an excited thrum in the air—part from the rush of gambling and from all the people milling about.

Vegas was intense. It was a far cry from the quieter, less frantic atmosphere of Black Canyon.

“What time are we meeting up with that stripper guy?” Rebecca asked, craning her neck so she could see him, which was hilarious because the only description she had of him was from me.

For what seemed like the millionth time tonight I slapped my roommate, chastising her. “Dude, what did I tell you? You can’t call him that!”

“Why not? It’s his job, isn’t it?” In true Rebecca fashion, she’d enjoyed my retelling of
Ink Edges
, asking to see Cooper’s piercing, cringing when she imagined the pain. But as soon as we told her we’d invited Six and his girlfriend, Brooklyn, to join us, she’d renamed him the
Stripper Guy
.

I swear she was going to be the death of me. Sometimes, I didn’t know whether to be amazed and proud of how comfortable she was or mortified over what came out of her mind. The thought of her muzzled made me giggle. I had no doubt she’d be like Houdini and be out of that thing in a heartbeat.

But it didn’t matter. Her quirks were endearing and I loved her for them—all of them.

“So you’re the reason my ears are burning.” A deep, rich voice came from behind and we both whirled around. It was Six and his gorgeous girlfriend.

“Hey, Six,” I greeted, elbowing Rebecca who had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught. “This is my roommate and best friend, Rebecca.”

When she mumbled hello, I wanted to giggle over her sudden bashfulness. It wasn’t often she was rendered speechless that didn’t involve Marty. The last time I’d seen her
this
shy was . . . well, never.

“Pleased to meet you,” Six replied as he kissed the back of his girlfriend’s hand. “And this is my Brooklyn.”

“
Your
Brooklyn?” Her eyebrows arched. Humor crinkled the corners of her eyes as she peered up at him in part adoration and part spitfire. I instantly liked her.

“You better believe you’re mine. Do you need another reminder?” Her gasp was audible over the loud noise coming from the nearby row of slot machines. He studied her features like a predator, ready to prove his claim. Most would have taken a step back, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the intensity.

Brooklyn stepped closer—as if challenging him to do exactly what he threatened.

Yep, I was definitely going to like this girl.

Tonight had all the makings of something memorable.

****

“Having fun, sweetheart?” Cooper’s breath was warm against my ear.

Twisting so I could answer, I smiled. “I’m so glad we came!” I had to yell to be heard over the thudding base coming from the band’s speakers. Wasted Malice had been performing for the last hour and didn’t show any signs of slowing down. The crowd had gone insane as soon as Cian walked onto the stage and hadn’t stopped since.

Just like Cooper and the guys, this group held everyone in the palm of their hands—keeping them hostage with their lyrics and wicked beats. It was impossible to stand still, the music swirling about in the air, the vibrations thrumming through my body as I had no other choice but to dance.

It didn’t matter that the heat generated caused a light sweat to trickle down the side of my temples, dampening my hair.

This was the kind of cause—experience—that warranted throwing away all focus about whether makeup was smudged or hair out of place. Happiness filled me—both from having an amazing time and the fact I was here with people I loved. Even Six and Brooklyn had found a place in my heart. There was no way this was the last time all of us would hang out together.

Forever friends.

Sometimes, you just knew straight off the bat whether people were meant to be in your life. They were two of them.

Glancing over at Rebecca, who also stood with her back against Marty’s chest, I offered up a quick prayer of gratitude. How did this become my life? How did I become so lucky?

You would’ve loved them too, Owen
, I silently murmured.

As the song began winding down, I took in a deep breath. I was exhausted, but in a good way.

“Are we going to the after party still?” I asked. Cooper had mentioned the invite earlier—how adamant Cian had been that we be there.

He nodded. “That’s the plan.” Despite all the commotion, Cooper’s eyes never strayed from mine.  “I love you.”

Whether he spoke the words or mouthed them like he did now, the result was the same. A tingle started in the center of my chest that pulsed outward and didn’t stop until it reached the tip of my fingers, toes, and head. It was like a full body wave that left nothing in its path untouched.

There was a period where I thought I’d never hear those words again . . . never feel this incredible sense of peace and belonging. I’d told myself it was okay, that at least I’d experienced what I believed to be a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. Soul mates just didn’t simply come along every day—showing up around every corner. Not that Cooper and I were at a point where we were making this heartfelt declaration, but the possibility was there. I felt it deep down—all the ingredients of a happily-ever-after.

Maybe just thinking it was enough to jinx it, to send out some cosmic beacon to Fate that screamed,
Come destroy this.  I dare you. Heaven forbid I ever find happiness again.

But wasn’t that what taking a leap of faith was all about? The risk of opening up to someone else and making yourself vulnerable—of letting them in despite the fear of getting hurt?

Cooper was worth throwing myself off the cliff of uncertainty, trusting that the free fall would land us both somewhere miraculous, that Cupid would extend his mercy again and bring two hearts together.

We were never going to remain just friends. Our conversation from months ago where I’d come looking for closure had evolved into something much richer and more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.

And here we were—here I was—blissfully content.

A whisper breezed through my mind . . . a split second of realization before it crashed over me. While Owen was never far from my thoughts, that painful ache that had been resident in my chest since finding out about his death was gone. It had healed. Memories of him and who we had been together no longer felt like a vise grip suffocating my spirit.

I’d let him go and in return, he’d removed the sting of his death and left his blessing. This would be what he wanted—for me not to lock away my heart, refusing to give romance a second chance.

I didn’t love Cooper the same way I did Owen, both of them different, and that was okay. I wasn’t meant to. I understood that now.

They didn’t compete—they each bought something special to my life, each teaching me something in their own way.

Owen taught me that no matter how much it hurt, how easy it would’ve been to crumble under the weight of death and simply give up; there was a strange kind of beauty to grief. Like a lump of black coal placed under an overwhelming pressure evolved into a sparkling, polished diamond, my mourning had performed the same miracle.

I felt shiny right now—different and more like the person I was meant to be.

Cooper . . . my sweet, complicated Cooper . . . he taught me that sometimes love didn’t come easy, that if I wanted something, even if I wasn’t sure
why
I did, not to shrink from the challenge. No matter the obstacle—some things, some people, were absolutely worth the fight and patience.

I couldn’t imagine walking away from that diner—away from him—from this. And deep down, I knew Cooper felt the same. It was in his eyes every time he looked at me, each time he spoke my name or held me in his arms. I was every inch as important to him as he was to me.

No missed opportunities for us. Wherever this path led, the future didn’t scare me anymore—there were just too many things to look forward to.

To wish and pray for.

“Who’s ready for a surprise?” Cian’s question caught my attention, his chuckle amplified over the large speakers. I wasn’t the only one who momentarily stopped swaying to see what he meant. “Who here has heard of Damaged Souls?”

Cooper’s body stiffened behind me and I felt a brief flash of alarm. What the hell? Glancing up, his brows were furrowed. He had no idea what was going on. Neither did Marty or the others.

A scattering of whoops and whistles shot across the audience, including Rebecca’s. I did the same—throwing my arms in the air in support—screaming like the fan girl I was.

“For those who haven’t, you’re in for a treat. Trust me . . . remember the name Damaged Souls. These guys are going to fucking take the world by storm, but first . . . Cooper Hensley . . . where are you, man?” A spotlight flitted about until it landed on us, causing everyone’s eyes to zero in on Cooper and me.

So that’s what it must feel like when he’s on stage performing.

Cooper raised his arm, waving to everyone.

“Get your ass up here and sing with me.” When Cooper didn’t move, glancing over at his friends and band mates, Cian added. “Looks like he needs a little convincing, everyone!”

The response was deafening as people started chanting his name, stomping their feet in time with their hands as they clapped and cheered.

“You okay with me going up there?” he murmured in my ear.

“If you don’t, I’ll drag you up there myself!” I retorted with an enthusiastic grin. “People need to see how awesome you and band are.”

“Do it!” Marty called out. Troy and Aidan gave their thumbs up. While the whole band wasn’t going up onto the stage, they knew the same as I did—Cooper would do us proud and bring the group more exposure.

Kissing the side of my head, Cooper made his way through the crowd, jogging to the edge of the stage before heaving himself up. There was time for a quick man hug, both guys slapping each other on the back, exchanging a few private words. The drummer did a soft rift on his kit, holding the cymbal at the end as he waited.

“Everyone, meet Cooper Hensley. I had the chance to hear him and his band mates—“ The spotlight returned to our small circle of friends, this time highlighting Marty, Troy, and Aidan. “—at Rock-A-Palooza earlier this year—” More exuberant whoops echoed through the space causing Cian to laugh into his microphone. “Exactly.”

The faint strum of a guitar followed as the base guitarist took the brief respite to quickly tune his instrument.

When the crowd simmered down again, Cian continued. “And ever since I’ve been jonesing for the chance to do this. What do you say, Coop? Think they can handle it?”

Cooper was in his element. He now wore the persona I’d affectionately dubbed as his
sexy rock god
look. He was still him, but addictive sex appeal and charm practically oozed from him each time he took center stage. It’s like he came alive.

He’d once shared that it felt like a switch flipped and everything else melted away. It was one of the purest sensations—void of demons and whatever baggage he carried. Nothing else mattered but the music swelling inside him and it gave him the chance to breathe.

And it stole the breath of everyone who witnessed it. There was no ignoring the fact that a lot of the screaming still happening was from women. They liked what they saw—a new guy to add to their fantasy bank for lonely nights.