Cadence (Ruby Riot Book 1) (15 page)

Chapter Twenty

TEGAN

Nine a.m. An hour ago, I left the loudly snoring rock star resident in my bed and headed to the gym. Now, on the way back to my suite, I daydream about my plans for a Parisian day out. Without said rock star.

My exhaustion and the size of the sofa meant a half-decent sleep last night although, at three a.m., Jax was snoring at a volume to rival a freight train. I was on the verge of dragging him out of my bed and shoving him out the door, conscious or not. Deciding that’d take too much effort - and lead me to close physical contact and temptation - I pulled the blanket over my head and went back to sleep on the sofa.

Last night sharpened a few things into focus for me. When I played around with Jax, holding him at arm’s length, whilst I laughed at his obvious attraction to me, the situation was amusing. I’m used to dealing with guys who hit on me, and normally I’m immune to their attempts to undress me. Allowing him closer is a mistake.

Since I broke up with Scott late last year, I’ve been extra cautious. My heart wasn’t broken, but severely bruised, and the effect our break-up had was unpleasant. Sure, I dealt with the hurt but the betrayal pissed me off. I’m a straight-up person. Scott bullshitted me for months, insisted he wasn’t interested in Heather. He claims nothing happened between them until after our relationship finished, but I fail to believe that. Scott and Heather lived in the same Halls at uni for a whole semester. I was in Asia.

I’m not naïve; we were – are – too young for a relationship like that to survive. What pisses me off is, it was me who insisted long-distance wouldn’t work; but Scott was adamant that, after being together two years, we should try. The lies and betrayal hurt more; the lack of respect, the worst part of the whole situation.

Allowing myself closer to Jax dredges unpleasant reminders. Suspicion and jealousy are on a hair trigger for me after my experience with Scott, and my reaction to Jax not contacting me until late last night is a shock. I’m rawer than I thought, and the fact Jax triggered these emotions so readily when we barely know each other, flashes a huge warning light. I’m fooling myself that time with Jax on tour is fun; my heart already betrays me into caring more than I should.

By the end of my workout, the decision is made. Time to rewind.

Sliding the keycard into the door, I walk into the darkened suite and pause. The sound of the shower running reaches my ears. In my bedroom, the white duvet is scrunched into a heap and what looks suspiciously like Jax’s clothes from last night are dumped on the floor. I wrinkle my nose at the distinctive smell of stale alcohol and stare at the scene in disbelief.
Seriously?

The ensuite door clicks open and Jax appears. Naked. Almost. A white hotel towel is slung and knotted low around his hips, barely reaching his knees, but aside from that… naked.

Naked. My breath disappears. The word won’t leave my head; and if I closed my eyes, I’m damn sure the image of his firm, muscular chest glistening with water wouldn’t leave either.

Relieved my mouth isn’t hanging open, I attempt to switch on the snarky Tegan who was about to give him a mouthful. Jax runs a hand through his damp hair and I’m distracted by the drops of water on his lips as they curve into a sheepish smile.

“Oh, hey, Tegan.”

Hey, Tegan?
I clear my throat and tear my look from his mouth. “Why haven’t you left yet? You have a shower in your own room!”

Jax’s lips purse with confusion. “Uh. Waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you about last night. I woke up in your bed, but you weren’t there. I know I was drunk but…” He stares at my gym gear or more precisely how the purple gym vest and black pants hug my curves. “I’m damn sure I’d remember if I’d been naked with you.”

The darkened look in Jax’s eyes reflects exactly what’s happening in his imagination. I remain focused on his eyes. Do. Not. Look. At. His. Body.

My eyes drifts downwards and I fight against lingering on the solid abs and the light trail of hair disappearing into the knotted towel. Has he tattoos any lower than where the blue stars are inked on his skin at the edge of the towel?

I blink away the image. “Last night, you stood me up, then barged into my room in the early hours, whined for a bit before you passed out on my bed. Way to impress a girl.”

Jax tips his head towards the bed. “Could’ve been worse. Or better, depending on which way you want to look at the situation.”

I focus hard on not staring some more at Jax, or acknowledging I’m suddenly less pissed off and more aroused. “You should be so lucky!”

Jax steps towards me. “One day I think I will be, we agreed.”

The scent of hotel soap drifts towards me as he stands close and my heart stutters. What is it about the sheer physicality of this man, which unravels me?

I look directly into Jax’s eyes, so I can’t be tempted by his mouth – or any other part of him in touching distance. “Put some clothes on.”

Jax continues his scrutiny of my face and despite the dark shadows below, his intense blue eyes shine brightly. “Or you could take yours off?”

I want to retort; but unsure whether my voice will fail and give my state of mind away, I clamp my mouth closed.

Jax inches closer and I back up. “Come on, Tegan, I can see in your face what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt that.” I swallow, annoyed at myself. I should turn and walk away, but memories of the way Jax kisses leads to temptation for more. “Get dressed.”

Jax sticks his bottom lip out, turns his back, and approaches the bed, hands going to the edge of the knot securing the towel. Before I get a view of his ass to bank with the other images, I spin around and leave the room.

“Nice try!” I call and Jax’s response is laughter.

A few minutes later, Jax reappears fully dressed. I tell myself the reason my heart races is because I’m annoyed with him.

Jax joins me on the sofa and immediately moves in for a kiss. I put a hand on his chest between us.

“I brushed my teeth!” he protests and shifts closer.

“That’s not the issue. An apology would be nice, Jaxon.”

He slumps back against the sofa. “You’re such a confusing chick. I thought you were upset because I didn’t pay you enough attention last night; and now I want to, you’re not interested!” I blink at his arrogance. “Oh, right. The apology. Sorry about last night. I was messed up.”

Jax shifts closer again and pushes his fingers into my workout-damp hair, moving his mouth closer. “I’ll make this up to you, if you’ll let me.”

I have never met a man as sure of himself as this one. “I don’t think so,” I manage to breathe out.

“Really?” His muscled leg shifts against mine as he moves in for the kill and I jump to my feet before the dampened desire reignites.

“Jax, I can’t do this.”

“What? Kiss me?” He stands too. “Why not?”

I cross my arms. “Sorry, but us. Last night, when you didn’t contact me, it pissed me off and it ruined my evening. I came on tour to enjoy myself, not become tangled with somebody who has a reputation for breaking hearts.”

“I don’t break hearts!”

“Only because you never spend longer than one or two nights with a girl. Everything is too complicated; we should both be having fun.”

“Yeah. Together. I told you, no other girls. Just you.”

“You say that but I don’t think I can trust you. And that makes this too hard.”

Jax drags his fingers down his face until he touches his lips. His lips that kiss with a magic I’m sure he could use on other parts of my body. “I like you, Tegan. A lot. I told you.”

“I think we’d have fun, but this isn’t the time or place for us. This is your time and your place, not mine.”

He frowns. “Are you saying you don’t want to do this?”

“I guess.”

“But the other night you seemed keen. The two of us, away from everybody else, we were great. Weren’t we?”

“Yes, but reality poked its head in.”

Jax huffs and sits, stretching his long legs out and placing his boots on the low table opposite. “Is this because of your brother?”

“No. But the sneaking around doesn’t help. Listen, Jax, it’s all good, go and be yourself. I’d rather step out of this now before I get hurt and things become unpleasant.”

For a few moments Jax is quiet, tapping the toes of his boots together. “All this because of last night? One mistake? I told you why I didn’t get in touch, Tegan.”

“I understand that, and the reason why you didn’t isn’t the issue. The issue is the conclusions I jumped to. I won’t be ‘that girl’.” He stares at the floor. “Come on, you’ll be sad all of five minutes, and you’ll find someone to cheer you up.” I grit my teeth at the thought of his hands on another girl, or her mouth where I’d like to put mine.

“And we’ll be friends?” he asks, making air quotation marks around the word friends.

“I think that’s best, don’t you?”

Jax watches me intently, in a way that lifts the hairs on my arms. I expected him to agree or at least not care, but the look refutes that. Is he pissed off? Not used to rejection?

Slowly, he stands and reaches a hand out, gently cupping my face. “No, I don’t think that’s best, Tegan. I can’t just be your friend when I feel all this crazy stuff around you.”

“Crazy stuff?”

“Yeah.” He strokes his fingers across my face, tracing my lips. “I can’t get you out of my head when you’re not around. That never happens. Even now, I should be worrying about this shit with Ruby but…no. Just you. I’m sorry about last night.”

I curl my fingers around his. “Now you’re sober can you see what a dick you’re being about Ruby’s situation?”

Jax laughs and drops his hand from mine. He steps back and digs one hand into his damp hair, shaking his head. “That. Don’t you see? That’s why you’re amazing.”

I shake my head, confused by his reaction. “Because I called you a dick?”

“No, because you’re like this rational voice with the ability to shove some sense in when I become too full of myself.” He pauses. “And yeah, I thought about the Ruby crap while I was in the shower and I’ll arrange a band meet up today.”

Jax in the shower
. An image of the towel-clad Jax re-emerges. Why am I turning this man down?

“That’s not all I thought about in the shower.” Jax bites his lip and runs an unsubtle look along my body.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Tegan…” Jax sighs and takes my face in both hands. “Give this a go, we haven’t even tried.”

“I don’t know.” As he places his lips on mine, I fight against responding and move my head. “Jax. Don’t.”

He drops his hands. “You told me not to play games, so what the hell was all this? Trying to prove you could get me eating out of your hand then tell me you’re not interested?”

“No! I thought… I don’t know. This is too hard!”

“Because I’m hiding you from other people? So, I’ll tell people, yeah?”

“What? No!”

“Okay, maybe just your brother? Will you believe how much I want this if I tell him about us?”

My pulse quickens as Jax heads past me to the door, face set hard. I whirl around, surprised by his sudden shift in attitude. “Don’t be stupid, Jax! Don’t you have other things to worry about?”

He pauses. “Yeah, I guess I forgot about the other shit for five minutes. Funny how you do that, and how I like it.”

The door bangs closed behind him.

No. He wouldn’t tell Bryn. Would he?

Chapter Twenty-One

TEGAN

I spend the day in Paris alone, ignoring the romantic couples and large tourist groups. After a full-on day scaling the Eiffel Tower followed by a trip to the Louvre, I stopped for coffee and pastry at an overpriced café. I’m in one of the great cultural capitals in the world, a city filled with history and tradition and fulfilling another dream. I want to visit as many European capital cities as I can and touring with Blue Phoenix offers me that opportunity. The day is a reminder why I’m on tour.

When I return from my excursions, Bryn approaches and asks if I’m interested in going out with the band tonight. Following a day cramming in as many Parisian highlights as I could, I’m excited he’s inviting me somewhere exclusive with the guys. ‘Parisian’ conjures up images of small shops lining cobbled streets, art galleries, and cafes, romance and aestheticism.

When Bryn tells me where the band is heading, I despair.

“Hard Rock Cafe? Seriously?” I ask.

Bryn rests against the wall outside my suite, arms crossed. “Yeah. Security is decent there and we’re given a VIP room. I’m not keen on overpriced joints and so-called gourmet food so this suits me.”

“But we’re in Paris, Bryn!”

“And?”

“You might’ve visited here a hundred times, but it’s my first. I thought you’d take me someplace nice.”

“Me? You keep telling me to back off, why would I take you out?”

I pout because he’s right. “Whatever.”

“You’re such a kid sometimes!”

“And you’re such a miserable bugger!”

Bryn gives a small shake of his head and leans toward me, his curls dipping into his eyes. “Whatever,” he mimics.

“Maybe I’ll find somebody to take me somewhere nice!” I retort and cross my arms.

“Such as who?”

When I first returned to the hotel and Bryn asked to see me, I prepared myself for the possibility Jax may’ve carried out his flippant threat to tell Bryn about us. A tiny part of me is disappointed when Jax clearly hasn’t. Again, look at how stupid I am having romantic notions about a man who I’m damn sure only wants my clothes on the floor with his.

Bryn’s expecting me to say Jax, so I say nothing.

****

The VIP room of the Hard Rock Cafe holds an odd mix of history and modernity. The corniced pink ceiling contrasts the glass and chrome cases holding guitars and rock memorabilia, red leather stools match the drapes and carved-wood panelling. Blue Phoenix is the first to arrive, heading to the venue before word gets out about the bands’ activities for the night.

“Who else is coming tonight?” I ask Bryn.

“No idea. The usual, I suppose. Don’t really pay attention.” He’s dressed to fit his environment and hasn’t changed out of the well-worn black jeans and Foo Fighters t-shirt he wore earlier. Sophistication isn’t in Bryn’s fashion guide.

The tension around him remains and I resolve to dig the reason why out of my big brother. I have my suspicions why there’s an edge of sadness to Bryn’s presence, and I’m not happy somebody’s screwed around with his feelings. Bryn loves hard and completely; he deserves somebody who’ll do the same in return.

Dylan and Sky are already ensconced at one of the tables toward the back of the room. Jem and Ruby are with them too. The two men chat, but Ruby focuses on her phone while Sky studies the menu.

No Ruby Riot boys yet.

I’d love to have been a fly on the wall when Ruby Riot had their meeting today about Ruby’s baby and the band’s future plans, but even I’m not crass enough to probe the issue. I asked Bryn if he knew how the meeting went and he dismissed the fuss, more focused on his amusement that Jem’s going to be a dad. I wonder how the twins reacted to Ruby’s news.

Ruby’s pale again, not helped by her choice of dark clothes. I’ve come to the conclusion her edginess isn’t rudeness, but an inability to perform social norms, a trait she shares with her boyfriend. Jem doesn’t give me a second look as we approach, but tips his head at Bryn in a silent greeting.

Bryn pulls out the seat for me at the table, and I make a comment about his gentlemanly gesture as I sit. Ignoring me, he takes his place next to Jem and slings an arm across the back of his chair.

I set my phone on the table and pick up the menu too. “Awesome! Burgers! How very French and sophisticated,” I say and pull a face at my brother.

Sky laughs and points at a picture. “French fries?”

At least one of the other girls at the table is friendly. Sky discusses the menu with me, asks about my day, with genuine interest. She pokes Dylan and she makes a teasing complaint that she’s in the city of romance, and he hasn’t taken her anywhere special. In response, he moves her wavy blonde hair from her ear, lingering his fingers on her face before whispering something. I can’t see Sky’s expression, but Dylan follows up his words with a kiss. Uncomfortable by how touchy-feely they are when I’m sitting next to them, I focus on the menu instead.

Liam arrives and Bryn looks behind him. “No Cerys?” he asks.

“Ella’s sick so Cerys is staying with her at the hotel. I don’t mind doing the dad stuff, but when she starts spewing on me….” He pulls a face. “Just can’t.”

“Don’t you bloody catch something!” retorts Dylan. “Last thing we need is one of us sick before we make it to Berlin.”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” he replies. “I don’t intend to get sick!”

“The joys of parenthood,” sniggers Bryn and smiles sweetly at Jem who flashes him a look.

“Are we celebrating?” I ask as a waitress, dressed in clothes straight from a 1950s American diner, sets an ice bucket into a stand nearby. She proceeds to pour glasses into tall flutes.

“Not especially,” replies Dylan.

“Serious?” asks Bryn with a grin. “What about Jem and Ruby’s happy event?”

“Yeah, right, because we’d both be drinking,” Ruby snaps at him.

“Whoa, Ruby,” he replies. “Does being pregnant suck all your sense of humour away?”

Ruby scowls. “Stressful day, thanks to somebody’s big mouth.”

Jem stiffens. “Well, everybody knows now. We’ve talked things through with the rest of the band and things are sorted, aren’t they?” Jem squeezes her hand. “We can move on with the tour and stop stressing about secrets.”

Ruby doesn’t look at him; it’s clear in her drawn face, she’d like to retort to Jem’s comment.

I’m more surprised that Jax is okay with the news now. Maybe my pep talk worked, or he decided to be mature about the issue now he’s sober. “The rest of the band not coming tonight, Ruby?” I ask.

“Dunno. Probably.” Ruby stands and without another word heads to the other side of the room. Jem straightens and watches her until she heads in the direction of the Ladies Room and he relaxes down in his seat again.

I tip my head at Sky. “Are the band always sweetness and light like this?”

“Ha. Yes,” she says with a smile and slides a glass of champagne toward herself. “Have a drink and ignore them.”

As she drinks, Dylan watches and wraps an arm around her shoulder. She’s pale too and I’m suddenly aware that, beneath their display of affection, there’s a tension between them. I’m not sure what Dylan murmurs to Sky, but their attitude to each other shifts as she relaxes again.

I pick at the edge of the menu, unaware I’d feel this uncomfortable amongst the band.

“How’s the job going?” asks Bryn and pours me a glass of champagne.

I look up. I should’ve expected Bryn to notice my discomfort. “Fine. Would prefer to do something a bit more interesting.”

“What’s she doing?” asks Liam.

“Selling merch.”

“I’d prefer to help Riley out but no can do. But, keeps me out of trouble,” I say with a grin.

“Mostly,” mutters Bryn.

“How are you after the other night?” asks Sky. “Dylan told me about what happened.”

Crap. I focus on my fingernails. “Yeah. Good. Thanks.”

Silence descends and I wish Sky hadn’t brought up a delicate topic of conversation. As far as I’m concerned, the incident is filed away under ‘not to be talked about’.

My phone message alert sounds saving me from engaging further, and I immediately check the screen.

Jax
.

I stare at the words. Was I too hasty in my decision to put the brakes on my relationship with Jax? This isn’t the behaviour of somebody who has taken no for an answer. Since the discussion in my room, I’ve regretted pushing Jax away so readily and he’s consumed my thoughts as I wandered Paris today. Did I do the right thing there? I’m secretly flattered, and torn between wanting to see him and not.