Rock Me Deep (12 page)

Reaching across the table, Brenda clasped my hands in hers. “Yes! That's perfect! I can have the photographer climb on our bus, along with the makeup and wardrobe, then you won't even need to stop practicing until they're ready for you! When we're done, you can go right back to the music while they pack up and hop out into the car that will follow us! Lola, you're a genius!”

I didn't miss the wink she gave Drezden, nor the harsh scowl he answered with. His eyes, normally so green, were dark as a storm when he glared at me. “Fine. Just do whatever you have to but make sure last night never happens again.”

“Of course I will.” She wrinkled her nose. “Give me some credit, I've kept things going for you this far.” Rising out of the seat, she brushed past the tall singer and dug her phone out. “I'll make some calls. We'll be on the road in thirty.”

The moment Brenda left the bus, Drezden became a black hole. Alone with him, my world shrank to a pinprick. His palms touched the table; mine twitched underneath on my thighs. “You shouldn't encourage her. Brenda gets off on every little win over me. She's ruthless.”

My tongue felt heavy when I spoke. “She's right, though. Last night happened because the security had no clue who I was.”

Studying me under lowered eyebrows, Drezden didn't move an inch. “Last night happened because we gave weak people a taste of power. They ran with it, it controlled them.”

He was losing me. “What does that—”

“Think about it!” His voice was as good as a slap; I flinched. “Just because they thought you were some drunken slut looking for a ride—” My throat tightened painfully. “—doesn't excuse what they did! Those assholes should have escorted you away. Why did they need to go as far as they did?”

Nail marks formed in my palms. It took a concentrated effort to calm the muscles in my forearms. “You're partly right.” Drezden tucked his chin, confusion blooming. “They went too far, yeah. My cuts and pride will have to agree. But honestly? If they had just tried to escort me away, it would have turned into a fight anyway. I wouldn't have just gone away, I wanted to get inside.”

Drezden considered me, then cracked a smile that melted the strength from my body. “You'd have fought them instead of just going and finding Colt or Porter or even Brenda?”

His honest surprise told me how little he really knew me.
How could he know? My life isn't written on a CD like his is. There's no way for him to understand what I've had done to me... and what I've done.
Memories of the asphalt behind my middle school surfaced. Fists that pummeled, my mouth full of blood.

“It doesn't matter," I said. Scrunching my shoulders to my ears, I started to slide from the seat. “You said you wanted to practice. Let's begin.”

“You should eat first.” Sighing in exasperation, he twisted to face the line of cupboards high on the bus wall. “I wish we had more, we haven't stocked up in a while. I'll remind Brenda. Think you can stomach some plain bagels?”

In the filtered sunlight through the open roof, I watched the back of his head. Then without meaning to, my eyes drifted down his spine. The rows of muscles barely hidden by his tight shirt were like train tracks on a course to my destruction. He was... beautiful. Why did someone so intimidating have to be so easy on the eyes?

I said, “Bagels are fine, sure.”

Together we sat at the small table, eating our stale breakfast. It was oddly normal. I didn't remember the last time I'd eaten so casually with anyone, not even my brother. Life was always so busy.

Picking apart the bagel, I stared at Drezden from the corner of my eye. It was a face I'd seen so many times in magazines or on blogs, but in person, it served to remind me of where I was. I hadn't gotten over how, just yesterday morning, I'd woken up with a tight neck on the hard seat of my brother's busted up tour bus.

And now I was riding in luxury.

The bite of bagel was dry in my mouth. I'd inevitably found my mind wandering to last night. Drezden, the bathroom, the tub... I reached over, itching at the bandage on my elbow.

Craning his neck, his hard green eyes locked onto what I'd just done. “Do they hurt today?”

Tingles rolled up my face, causing me to flush. Taking a swig from the bottle of water he'd found for me, I wiped my mouth, stalling. “No, they're—I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I'm tougher than you think.”

“I think,” he whispered, “That we went over that last night.” His slow smirk was as tangible as fingers running over my thighs.

Squeezing my knees together, I fought down a wave of—what?
Lust, fear, why can't I tell the difference?
“Could we not talk about that?”

“Which part?”

“
All
the parts,” I muttered. Tossing the rest of my bagel in the trash, I glanced towards the back of the bus.

Drezden said, “If you're worried about the band finding out about you throwing up outside, don't be. Brenda won't say anything to them.”

Sucking in a slow breath hardly calmed me at all. “I know. I'm not worried about that. I'm thinking about... the aftermath.” Even bringing up the incident in the tub was making my skull throb.

Other parts of me, too.

Something touched my ankle under the table. It took me a second to realize the hard material was Drezden's boot. “What about the aftermath?” he asked.

My poker face was the worst. Widening my eyes ‘til they ached, I watched him without blinking. How could he look so smug? Did he not care if anyone found out about us rubbing our junk together? I'd been around enough band drama to know that shit like last night never ended well. It only took one rumor—or one reality—to tarnish a name.

This band is my opportunity. No way I'll risk that. I don't even fucking know what I'd be risking it for—a night with Drez, or more?

His eyes were a slithering world of dark promises. “Listen,” I started to say.

He pulled his foot away. It left me emptier somehow. “Lola, I'm not a fucking moron.” There, that was the harsh side of the singer I was used to. It wasn't comforting, but it left me feeling less of a mushy mess. “I'm not going to say anything to Porter or Colt, or anyone.”

The flutter in my heart died. His words were supposed to reassure me. Instead, they left me stiff and aching with a frustration I couldn't express.
He thinks that what happened is something that needs to be hidden. He's right. Why does that hurt to hear?

Squeezing my water bottle, I jumped into the aisle. “Then we're on the same page. Fine. I need to call my brother.” Not giving him a chance to argue, I trotted down the bus steps and into the early morning air.

I
did
need to talk to Sean, but I hadn't been planning on doing it now. I just needed to escape from Drezden and his cloying existence.

The parking lot of the Griffin was packed with cars. Finding Barbed Fire's bus didn't take me that long. Debating calling him first, I instead just clomped up to the door and pushed. It opened easily, revealing Shark slumped over at the wheel. He was startled at the sight of me. “Lola! You scared me, shit!”

“Sorry.” His genuine shock made me smile. A tug of sad nostalgia hit me.
No, it's too soon for that.
“Is my brother in here?”

“Actually,” a voice said behind me. Spinning, I found myself eye to eye with Sean. He wore a gentle smile, a tray of coffee cups in his hands. “I went to get drinks for the guys. I got an extra, want it?”

Taking the cup, I felt the heat sinking through the cardboard sleeve. “Thanks. I thought we'd catch up before everyone takes off for the day.”

Sean lifted the tray, shoving it at Shark. He took it with confusion. “Hand those out,” he explained. “I'm going for a walk with Lola.”

****

W
e strolled along the parking lot, then up the road. It was reckless to go too far. We could be left behind-as unlikely as that was. In wordless agreement, we walked in circles, repeating the same steps around the area. “So you're enjoying it?” he asked, sipping from his cup.

I held my coffee close, sniffing the bitter scent. “Well, most of it.” Sean slowed, lifting an eyebrow. I went on at his silent prompt. “The music is coming along. They seem to trust I can perform tomorrow. It's just...” How did I phrase this? “Drezden is sort of intense.”

That was putting it mildly.

“Intense how?”

My insides rocked and rolled. “I don't know. When we play together, his singing is overwhelming.” I thought about his fingers on me, his rough jeans grinding, and I shivered.

Sean kicked a rock, watching it skid over the road. “Don't be afraid of Drezden Halifax. He's the kind of guy you should try to get closer to. He can take you places, tell you things, teach you things.”

My feet froze. I stopped walking, staring at Sean. “How do you mean?”

His smile was tight. “A guy like him has a poet's heart. It's why he's so good at what he does. You should go ahead and try to steal some of that.”

Steal some of Drezden Halifax.
It was an absurd thought.

He was the guy who was trying to fucking steal parts of
me.

It was impossible to tell Sean that, though. “Alright. I'll keep that in mind.”

“You sure you're alright, Lola?” Turning, my brother studied me with new eyes.

I pushed my shoulders into my ears.
Just trying to handle a guy who scares me while also turning my insides into Jello,
I thought sarcastically. Rubbing my elbows self-consciously, I was glad my injuries were hidden. “I'm fine. I should get back though, Brenda said—” I trailed off. Mentioning Brenda had forced something else up. A piece I'd left drowning in alcohol last night. “Hey. Sean?”

He tilted his head, waiting.

In my hands, the coffee felt colder. “How come you never told me that you auditioned for Drez's band years ago?”

I knew my brother very well. The instant his face fell, I was sure something was wrong. “Oh. That.”

“Sean, talk to me. Why hide that from me?

Fiddling with his neck, he eyed the sky. “Lola, that was a long time ago. You had... other things to worry about. It was a dumb audition.”

A dumb audition that I nailed yesterday.
What he'd said, though, it made me think. He was right that two years ago I was busy with some important things. Helplessly, my fingers wandered to the inside of my right arm. Nails itched at where the tattoo hid. “You didn't tell me because you... what? Didn't want to worry me?”

“I didn't want to depress you more, yeah.” His tongue held an edge. “Fucking—Lola, listen. Two years ago things were hectic. But you're fine now, and I'm fine now. We've both dealt with our demons. The only thing that matters right now is
literally
right now.”

Inside, I wanted to agree. No one wants to be suspicious of their own sibling. “Okay. Okay, don't worry. It's not important anymore.”

His face smoothed with relief. “Good. Now, what were you going to say before that?”

"Brenda scheduled a photo shoot today. I guess she'll try to make me look
fancy.
”

"Oh la la," he chuckled.

Grinning, I walked backwards towards the bus with a wave. "I should go, we'll talk later!" Cradling my coffee, I jogged back to the bus. I'd hoped that speaking with Sean would clear my head, but it had only left me more lost.

He was hiding something.

But what... and why?

I jumped up the stairs and into the bus. Inside, I found Drezden and Porter standing in the aisle. The bassist grinned, showing every tooth in his mouth. “You look like you're ready for some practice!"

Chugging my coffee, I nodded. "I'm definitely ready." Music would heal my soul, if anything could.

“Fantastic!" Porter laughed. "Colt drank enough that there's no way he doesn't have a huge fucking hangover.” His arm draped over my shoulders, pulling me close. “How about,” he chuckled in my ear, “We wake him up in style?”

The camaraderie was welcome, and I was grateful for Porter. Gripping his hand, I put on my biggest smile, but it didn't come close to his. "I think I like the sound of that."

"Great," he said, clapping his palms. "Because Colt sure won't."

Drezden

––––––––

B
y the time the bus rolled out, we were all awake and in the practice room. Lola had tuned her guitar, then at Porter's suggestion, strummed with the amp turned up until Colt stormed in clutching his skull. It was what they needed; a moment that broke the tension.

I wished it worked for me.

My night had been plagued with visions of Lola. Her pouting lips, the curve of her neck, the way her dark hair fell wildly over her shoulders. Even her smell had been in my dreams. When I awoke, it was clinging in my very pores.

Then it faded, and I'd actually longed for it.

Seeing her that morning had soothed me briefly. Wrapped up in my fight with Brenda had made dealing with Lola's appearance easier, if only because I'd been forced to behave myself.

I didn't think I was dangerous. But now, with a horny beast coming to life inside of me, I had to wonder. If I was left alone with Lola, no one around to judge me or stop me... what would I do to her?

The thought of her mewling mouth sent my blood careened through me chaotically.

I
was chaotic.

Fuck.

Leaning on the wall, I wrapped the wire from my mic around my fingers. I pretended it was her hair; my tugging became firmer.

“Yo,” Colt said, downing another palm full of pain meds for his headache. “We doing this or what? Pick a fucking song, maestro.”

In a burst of speed, I stepped into the dead center of the room. I was positive I saw Lola flinch, leaning away from me on her bench. Everything she did made my damn cock twinge with desire. How could one girl drive me so insane?

“Let's play Velvet Lost,” I grunted, acid coating my words. Hiding my hunger for Lola was so fucking hard. The only way to even try was to embrace my voracious anger.

“Fine, whatever,” Colt grumbled. His mood was bleak, but he only had himself to blame. He never should have gotten so drunk. But unlike Johnny, I'd never known Colt to let me down. When he started drumming, my confidence in him remained solid.