Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) (2 page)

Kara looks to me. "I'll wait in the other room. I have to catch up on my Russian literature."

They're happy. Functional. I never thought either of us would have anything like that.

Drew runs his hand through his hair. "Wil, tell me the truth. I know you didn't hop on a bus for five hours because your neighbor plays metal until three a.m." He leans closer. "I'm not seventeen anymore. I'm not going to jump straight to violence."

"Is there an intermediary step now?"

He leans back, not at all amused. "You still don't trust me."

"The last time I needed your help, you..." I pull my arms over my chest, unable to do anything but remember how thoroughly panic swallowed me whole that night. "What if he'd had a knife or a gun? You'd be dead right now."

Drew scoffs like he believes he could take a knife and/or gun-wielding guy with fifty pounds on him. Drew is no slouch, physically. But Bradley is a football player. He's taller, bigger, meaner.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was that something was going to happen to you?" I hug myself tighter. "It would have been all my fault."

"No, it would have been my fault. I knew what I was risking. And I knew I could take him." He looks me in the eyes. "What's wrong with protecting the people you love? The world would be a better place if Bradley was dead." The name is poison on his lips. "Shoulda killed him when I had the chance."

"You're not convincing me that you're capable of settling things without resorting to violence," I say.

Drew nods. He must see my point. "I'm sorry I scared you back then. You had enough to deal with. Whatever it is that's wrong, I'll help. The answer doesn't have to be murder. Doesn't even have to be aggravated assault."

Maybe. I want to tell him. I really do. But there's something about the intensity of his expression. I can't trust him not to get himself hurt.

Drew's voice drops. "Is it Bradley?"

I say nothing.

"Don't you have a restraining order?"

"It expired." I bite my lip. "It's nothing. I just... I need some time to figure out everything. If you don't want me here, that's fine."

"Of course I want you here." Drew looks me in the eyes. "Promise me you'll be safe on tour with us and I'll let it go."

"I'm only staying a few days."

"Wil, promise or I'm hiring a body guard to watch you twenty four seven."

I can't promise that. But I can't let Drew know Bradley is trying to insert himself back into my life. I look my brother in the eyes. "I'll be fine. But I should really get to showering. I have to get up early if I want to finish the application in time."

I go to push myself up but Drew grabs my arm.

"You need money?" he asks.

"I can't take your money. Not after all the shit Mom pulled."

"I'm not like Mom. I’m not going to attach strings to it."

"Still. I don't want to fight. I need a place to stay for a few days. If that's not okay with you, I'll figure something else out." I take a deep breath. "You can pay for my hotel room if it makes you feel better."

He smiles as he pulls out his credit card and hands it to me. "It does."

"Thank you."

His expression gets overprotective. "Wait. Does your application need sexy pictures?"

Okay. Time for a white lie. "Any portraits will do."

Oh no. He's about to volunteer.

At least this part is true. "No offense, Drew, but you always look pissed off in pictures. I'll find a model. It's no big deal."

"Okay. But you have to promise you'll think about staying the rest of the tour if you don't get that job. It's only another two months. It will be fun. We can catch up."

My stomach twists. Reality sinks in. If I don't get that job, I don't have a better option than staying with Drew. Even so... "Two months is too long to let my photography lapse."

"Consider it," he says. "Kara's flying out of Portland. I can take you to the airport with her or you can leave out of any other city. Hell, Wil, you can come back home with us and crash in the spare room as long as you need. There are lots of photographers who need assistants in Los Angeles."

"I'll think about it." It might be my only option. I push myself out of my seat. "Thanks, Drew. I'll see you in the morning."

"Tom wasn't bugging you, was he?"

"No. He was a gentleman."

Drew cocks a brow. "Sounds suspect."

"He was fine."

"I'll talk to him." Drew's expression gets serious.

I know that look too. It means
if talking doesn't work, I'll hit him until he understands.

"Think about staying." Drew walks me to the door. "I'll feel a lot better not knowing what's going on if I can keep an eye on you."

"I will. Thanks."

He gives me a half-hug and looks back to Kara, waiting on the king bed.

She smiles and joins our awkward goodbye. "Hey, Willow. We're going to a theme park tomorrow. Go-karts, mini-golf, laser tag. You should come. It will be fun."

"I have this application due at noon," I say.

"We can wait," she offers.

I try to imagine some version of reality where go-karts and mini-golf don't involve me sitting on a bench in the hot sun, waiting out another activity, but the vision won't come. It's not that I'm against fun. Just that I prefer to stick to the sidelines. It's safer. Less risk of getting hurt or embarrassing yourself or falling in love with a guy who hits you.

"Thanks, but I'm really tired. I need some time to think tomorrow." At least that's true.

She nods. "Then how about we meet for lunch? After your application is due." She nudges Drew.

He looks at her then back to me. "Yeah. Meet you in the lobby at noon."

I nod. "Okay."

He opens the door for me. "Everything is going to be okay, Wil. I promise."

I
slump on the concrete bench outside the hotel. Cold, evening air sinks through my thin sweater. Goosebumps spread over my arms.

It's not okay. There's a convention in town—apparently, a valid excuse for the front-desk guy to be an ass—and every room is booked.

My phone is still dead. There are half a dozen hotels in walking distance. But first, I need to clear my head. I take out my camera and adjust the shutter speed to one more appropriate for the dark sky. My hands are shaky. This is going to come out blurry. I snap a few shots anyway. The aqua hotel pool hiding behind a black fence. The yellow glow of the streetlight falling over the sidewalk. The couple walking towards me—too far away for any details besides the way the woman is holding onto the man like he's a balloon string and she's afraid he'll fly away.

Wait a second.

That's Tom. And a woman who looks a lot like me. Must be Alice. She's a little shorter and a lot curvier. Lighter hair. More makeup. Much sexier outfit—tight dress and stilettos.

There's something about Tom's posture. Almost like he's not interested.

I zoom in to his face and snap a few shots. The evidence is clear. He has his arm around her but there's no enthusiasm in his expression.

The insight disappears when I set my camera down. The world makes more sense captured in a photograph. I see all the things I normally miss.

Tom's eyes connect with mine. He nods hello. I nod back and attempt to avert my gaze to anything else. My camera. Maybe there are some decent sexy pictures that will get me out of this desperate situation.

Nothing.

It took me a month to work up the courage to arrange a shoot with an exceptionally friendly model. How am I going to ask a stranger?

A high-pitched squeal interrupts my train of though.

"What the fuck, Tom? You're going to make me share with some girl who looks just like me?" The girl on Tom's arm glares at me with irritation.

"No. I'm over threesomes." Tom keeps his eyes on me as he addresses the woman. "Wait inside. Now."

She scoffs but obliges, pushing through the glass doors and throwing herself on the lobby couch. Her legs spread in a pose more desperate than enticing.

He looks at her with a hint of regret. "This is why I don't do repeats anymore. Too many feelings."

"Repeats?"

He laughs. "Don't think you're as innocent as your outfit suggests."

Is a sweater and jeans really innocent? This is how most people dress.

I stare back at still effortlessly cool Tom. It sinks in. Repeats. "You mean sleeping with the same woman more than once?"

He nods. "Not worth the trouble."

Wow. That's... slutty. I clear my throat and force myself to look Tom in the eyes.

Dammit, that same buzz of electricity passes through me. From one fingertip to another then right between my legs. It's not the gorgeous green color that gets me. It's the spark of mischief in them.

The lines of his tattoo peeking out from his v-neck.

God, he would look yummy in a photograph, pulling that v-neck halfway down his chest that
I know you want me
expression on his face.

"Eyes up here." He smirks. "Where you going with all your shit?"

"The hotel's booked."

"You can take my room. I'll sleep in the bus."

"No. You're..." I motion to the woman sitting in the lobby. "Busy."

His eyes drift to Alice then back to me. "I'm gonna let her down easy. I'm not in the mood anymore."

He's not? He seemed pretty ready to pounce when he thought I was Alice.

It's not as if she's lacking in any way. If anything, she's prettier than I am. She's certainly more endowed in the T&A regions.

"You eat dinner?" he asks.

My stomach growls. The last thing I ate was oatmeal and raisins and that was this morning. I shake my head, no.

"There's a strip mall down the block. A couple places are open all night."

"What about Alice?"

"She'll feel even more deprived if we get going and she doesn't get her lips around my cock."

There isn't a single hint of irony in his voice. He's so confident, so sure that women will be upset over not getting the chance to blow him.

It must be amazing to be that sure of yourself.

"Here." He slides my bag off my shoulders and around his.

"Okay."

He's already halfway to the door, too far away to hear me. I try not to gawk as Tom talks to the girl. Apparently, he hasn't mastered this whole letting her down easy thing, because she pouts and stomps, throwing one hell of a fit.

She glares at me on her way to the street. Tom follows a moment later. He stops next to me and shrugs, not at all aware of the effect he has on her.

***

T
om pulls the Thai restaurant's door open. "Best chicken and eggplant anywhere."

"I'm a vegetarian," I say.

He points to one half of the paper menu pasted to the door. "They have a vegetarian version."

He presses his hand against my lower back and leads me to a corner booth. There are all these clothes in the way, but, still my body hums with desire.

We're the youngest people here by twenty years. That doesn't spare Tom from female attention. A woman in a sharp suit, some Casino executive type, makes eyes at him.

"Give me a sec." Tom pushes out of his seat and approaches the woman.

One second she's all business, the next she's gushing, pawing at his hoodie. He leans in close, smiling and running his fingers over her wrist. Is the gesture sincere or a put on? I can't tell. Not without my camera.

He slides his arm around her so she can take a selfie then pulls a marker from his jeans and signs the back of her cell phone case.

He blows her a kiss goodbye as he makes his way back to me.

I cover my judgmental expression with the menu. "If you want to take her back to your room, I won't stop you."

"She was wearing a wedding ring." Tom presses my menu down and looks into my eyes. "I don't fuck taken women."

"It's none of my business."

"You were watching."

I bury my attention in the menu. The eggplant dish sounds good. Basil, soy sauce, red peppers, garlic. But I know I like pad thai. "I was just curious."

"About?" He shifts back in his seat, gives the menu a once over, and looks back to me. "I don't offend easily. You can lay all the judgment you want on me."

"I'm not in a position to judge anyone's love life."

"Love doesn't have shit to do with it."

"Or anyone's sex life."

The waitress interrupts to drop off waters and take our order. I stick with the pad thai. It's safe. Tom orders the spicy basil eggplant dish he recommended. The vegetarian version.

"You didn't have to do that," I say.

"I know. I don't do anything unless I want to do it."

His eyes bore into me, but I'm not sure what he's trying to find. Without the menu, there's nowhere to hide. I have to say something.

"Why did you reject that Alice girl?" I ask. "She was hot."

"You like girls?" He perks up. "Can I watch?"

"You want to?"

"Never seen two girls who were
really
into each other go at it before. Only women putting on some show for my amusement. If I wanted to see fake orgasms, I'd watch shitty porn."

"As opposed to?"

"Amateur stuff."

I clear my throat. Not going there. "I like guys."

"You embarrassed about that?"

"No. But... I can tell when a woman is attractive."

"Yeah. Alice is cute. We hooked up a long time ago. Supposed to be a one-time thing, but she knew I'd be in Reno and she called. Thought she wanted tickets or wanted to fuck me again."

"What about the piercing?"

"I don't mind giving without receiving." He laughs. "But the way she was talking... she was getting feelings. Expectations. Maybe they were real. Maybe she's full of shit and wants to nab a rock star boyfriend." Sadness flares in his eyes. "Doesn't matter. I don't do relationships."

"Why not?"

"Never felt that way." He studies my expression. "Come on. Lay the judgment on me. I know you're not screwing a different guy every night."

A chuckle escapes my lips.

He raises a brow. "Only once a week?"

I laugh harder. A big belly laugh.

"Okay, okay," he says. "I don't want to insult your game. Twice a week?"