Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4) (27 page)

BOOK: Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)
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“Really?”

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“Well, I’ll come see you once I’m finished.” He ran a finger under her chin, lifting until she looked him in the eye. He frowned at her, his gaze raking her face, scrutinizing her features. “I’ll bring dinner.”

She shook her head. “Not tonight. Your friends are in town. Go celebrate with them.” She needed space. Time. The mental capacity to cement the decision in her mind before she tore her heart out and crushed it with her own hands. Leah was right, Sean didn’t deserve to be strung along if this relationship wasn’t something she could see evolving into more. She needed to decide what was stronger, her fears or her love. At the moment, both were tearing her apart. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“How are you going to get home?”

“I’ll catch a cab. No big deal.”

He squeezed her chin, stripping her defenses with the concern in his eyes. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” She brushed her lips over his. Was this the last time she’d enjoy the sensation? “Goodbye, Sean.”

“What’s going on?”
Ryan strode toward him, eying the door Red had just walked through.

“Hopefully nothing she can’t handle.” He was a mess. Sasha was doing his head in. Yeah, it was a bonus she’d stopped dry humping his crotch, yet she still continued to fuck him with her gaze every second they danced together. Add to that his frustration with Red keeping him at arm’s length, and Mitch and Mason’s smartass critiques, and he was set to go postal.

Motherfuckers
.

The thing that worried him the most was the guilt in Leah’s eyes. She’d said something to Red. He was sure of it.

He started for her, needing to know what trouble she’d stirred, and then paused when he sighted the unfamiliar expression on Ryan’s face. His friend was far from happy, his blue eyes still lacking emotion, yet there was no scowl or hatred to his features. “You’re not sportin’ your usual glower.”

“So?”

“I wanna know why. Did I miss something?”

“I got a text from Julie this morning.” Ryan glanced over his shoulder, as if making sure nobody was within earshot.

“And? I gather you’re happy it took her three weeks to get in contact with you.”

“No.” Ryan’s usual scowl slid back into place. “I think she might have figured out what she wants. She was asking where I was going to be today. So I told her I’d be here.” His focus switched to the door. “I think she might show up. I was actually hoping she’d be here waiting when I arrived.”

Sean kept his mouth shut. He’d have to do the same when Julie showed. He respected Ryan’s choices. It just didn’t lessen the fact his wife was a bitch. One Sean would gladly never see again. “I’m sure she’ll show up soon,” he muttered. “Focus on teasing the shit out of me while you wait. Everyone else is.”

Ryan scoffed. “You can’t recognize jealousy now that you’re on the other side of the fence?”

“What do you mean?” Sean frowned.

“The guys are only messin’ with you because you’re crushing it out there.”

“Right… I’ll have to take your word for it.” The routine still felt sterile. The connection wasn’t there. Or the emotion. “I better get back to it.”

Ryan jerked his head in acknowledgement and strode toward the group.

“Sean,” Leah’s voice drifted softly from the left of the room. She quickened her pace toward him and gave a sad smile in greeting. “Can we chat for a second?”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you say to her?”

Leah pressed her lips together and swallowed. Not a good sign. “I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. It was just a reminder about your career and what you’re striving for.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Hell
. He rubbed his hands over his face, stopping himself from wringing her neck. “She doesn’t need a reminder.”

“I’m trying to help you achieve what you wanted. You’re after more publicity. A bigger pedestal. I’m giving you that. All I told her was that she needs to be aware that your popularity is only going to grow.”

“Yeah, well, that shit doesn’t matter anymore.” His limbs were heavy with tension, his jaw tight. “I changed my mind about the recognition.” He shook his head to reiterate. “None of it matters. I just want her.”

He turned, heading for the door, going after her.

“Sean. Wait.” The click of Leah’s heals echoed behind him. “Give her time to make up her own mind. She left for a reason. She needs to work this out on her own.”

He rounded on her, straightening his shoulders in a defiant move that pissed Leah off if the narrowed glare in her eyes was any indication. “And if she makes the wrong one? What then? How are you going to fix the mess you made?”

“You can’t be her crutch forever,” Leah murmured. “Both of us know she’s tough. But unless she figures that out herself, she’ll continue hiding. Please trust me on this.”

He stared at the door, ignoring the two bodyguards standing on either side. Did he go after her, or stay? Did he coddle her, or let her realize her strength as Leah suggested?

“Come on.” Leah placed a hand at the crook of his elbow. “Focus on the routine. Call her later.”

She was right. At least, he hoped she was. Red was tough. He needed to give her the chance to realize it on her own.

“Whatever,” he muttered, striding for the dance floor.

“Wait.” Her voice rose. “There’s one more thing.”

His chest pounded, punching his heart rate out of rhythm. “What?” He turned to her, finding her features softened, her eyes wary.

“How’s he doing?” She tilted her head to the right, almost imperceptibly. She didn’t need to say Ryan’s name for him to know who she was referring to.

“Temperamental.”

She winced. “And what about Julie? Any news from her?”

“Apart from a text message this morning, I’m not sure. I try not to pry. And to be honest, whenever I bring up the topic his frustration grows to the point where I have concerns for my safety.” He shot her a half-hearted smile, then wiped it from his face when she frowned.

“Don’t do that. Don’t make fun of him. He’s not handling the separation well.”

“Right…” Like he didn’t already know.

“Just keep a good eye on him for me. Please.”

Sean couldn’t pinpoint why her request pissed him off, but it did. Bad. He’d had his own shit to deal with. And it wasn’t like he’d been snubbing Ryan. The guy had taken over his home for the last three weeks.

“I’m not a babysitter, Leah. Do your own damn snooping if you’re so worried.”

Her eyes widened and before she could give him a serve of her attitude, he strode toward Sasha, trying to withhold a shudder with each approaching step.

“Ready for another round?”

She grinned, all charm. “Always.”

She sashayed to the iPod sitting on the far edge of the dance floor and pressed play on the track. As the music began to fill the room, a knock sounded at the door.

One of the guards reached for the handle, pulling the bulky frame open and allowing a suit-clad man who appeared to be in his late thirties to stride in, a briefcase at his side.

“Can I help you?” Leah approached, her professional smile slipping into place.

The room fell quiet as Sasha hastened to pause the music. The bodyguard widened his stance, stopping the man from entering the room.

“I’m looking for Ryan Bennett.” The man’s features matched Leah’s—friendly, professional, with an underlying bite that couldn’t truly be described in words.

“Who’s asking?” Ryan raised his voice as he broke away from the group, Mason, Mitch, and Blake following close behind.

Sean joined in, all five of them striding toward the door and the unmistakable air of apprehension. Dread grew in his gut, and if the look on Ryan’s face was any indication, his friend was shitting bricks, too.

The suit straightened. “I’m—”

“My wife sent you, didn’t she?” Ryan spoke over the top of him, the usual charm of the rhythm guitarist shot to hell. “What do you want?” His fists balled at his sides, his posture stiffened.

Oh, shit.
“How ‘bout you back off a little, bro.” Sean quickened his pace and gripped Ryan’s upper arm in warning, only to have it brushed off.

“Who are you?”

The man cocked a brow, pausing as if waiting to be interrupted again. When silence reigned, the entire room now focused on the stranger, he raised his briefcase and pulled out a large yellow envelope. “I’m a process server working on behalf of your wife. I’m here to serve you with divorce papers.”

Fuck!

Gabi—or maybe it was Alana—gasped. Mason swore. And Ryan just stood there, his jaw ticking as his fists balled tighter, making his knuckles white.

Sean rested a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this togeth—”

“Son of a bitch.” Ryan lunged, cocking his fist.

“Oh, fuck.” Blake dropped his shoulder, barging Ryan around the waist to drag him backward.

Mitch and Mason were over him next, shoving him away from his target, yanking his arms behind his back.


Get the fuck off me.
” Ryan went rabid, fighting against their hold.

Sean stood rooted in place, too shocked to move, too distraught for action. This was Ryan. The non-violent, polite member of the group. What the hell had Julie done to him? His gentle nature had vanished under a mask of hatred so potent Sean couldn’t recognize him anymore.

“Ryan, please.” Leah glanced over her shoulder, pleading with her eyes.

“All I need is a signature.” The guy pulled a piece of paper from the envelope.

“Fuck you,” Ryan spat, his shoulders sagging. “Tell her to go to hell.”

Sean stalked ahead, snatching the paper before Leah could beat him to it. “I need a fucking pen.” He needed a fucking Advil. A bottle of Scotch. Anything to stop the white noise in his head. Ryan was the one who pulled them together. He was the calm who lessened the severity of every emotional storm.

“Here.” The process server clicked a platinum pen and handed it over.

Heart in his throat, Sean stormed back to Ryan and looked his friend in the eye without an ounce of pity. “Sign this fucking thing. Let’s get this shit started. You don’t need that bitch in your life.”

Ryan’s bottom lip wavered as he yanked an arm free from Mason’s grip. “I’m not giving her a cent.”

“No.” Sean shook his head, taking his friend’s pain head on. “She won’t get dick. We’re all here to make sure of it.”

“You’re not going through this alone,” Blake added.

Sean chanced a glance at his bandmates and tried not to crumple under the weight of their empathy. For years, the five of them had sailed an ocean of fame and fortune. Tough times came and went, yet none of them had ever seemed as brutal as the devastation written on Ryan’s face. “This is only to acknowledge receipt of the divorce documents,” the man raised his voice. “Once I have that, I’ll be out of your way.”

Sean ground his teeth, hard, as he held out the paper. “Come on, Ry. Sign this shit. Be done with her.”

Ryan’s scrutiny bore into him, his nostrils flaring, his eyes glazing. “I fucking hate her,” he whispered.

“I know.” He chanced a smile. “We all do.”

Ryan released a breath of laughter that resembled a sob. “Give it here.” He snatched the paper and pen and leaned on his knee to scribble his signature. “Now tell him to fuck off.” He handed back the items and Sean strode for the process server, shoving the paper and pen against his chest.

“Make sure Julie knows her free ride is over.”

The man handed over the envelope. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

“You’ve done your job.” Leah spoke from Sean’s side, grasping the documents from his hand as she stabbed a pointed finger toward the door. “Get the hell out.”

“Thank you for your time.” The asshole turned on his heels, walking through the door Cameron held open.

For long heartbeats, nobody dared to breathe. This was the moment when Ryan would usually pull them out of the tailspin. He’d give their situation perspective. Point out the positive side. For the life of him, Sean didn’t know how to replicate that. He was lost. Unwilling to cause more anguish if he said something deemed insensitive. Because he sure as shit had a truckload of nasty things to say about Julie.

“Give me the envelope.” Ryan stalked forward, Mason and Mitch flanking him.

“Ryan.” Leah’s soothing voice echoed through the room. “Calm yourself first.”

Ryan paused, jerking back slightly at their band manager’s refusal. His brow furrowed. His lips pressed tight together in a show of restrained emotion. Then the vulnerability washed away. Pure loathing taking its place. “Give me the fucking papers.” He got in her face, hovering over her.

Cameron released the door, letting it slam closed as he rushed to Leah’s side. Sean approached, too, unsure what the hell Ryan was capable of doing next in his manic state.

“You don’t intimidate me.” Leah raised her chin, meeting Ryan’s stare. “So back off.”

“Just give me the fucking papers.” He reached for them as she slid them behind her back.

“You won’t be able to read them like this. You’re too emotional. Take a moment to breathe. We’ll get through this.”

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