The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7) (10 page)

Oh hell, I didn’t want to get the shit kicked out of me the first week I was a dude.

The door behind him re-opened. “Everything okay out here, Grim?”

I peered around the hulking figure in front of me to see another gigantic guy in the doorway, except this one was drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t seem nearly as menacing as
Grim
—Dios, what a good name for him.

“I’m with the band,” I rushed to tell the hottie before the asshole in front of me could send him away. “I need in so I can help set up before we open tonight.”

“Oh, are you the new drummer?”

“Yes!” I sent him a thank-you gesture before glaring at Grim for still blocking my path.

“Hang on a second. I’ll get Asher.”

He disappeared, the door reclosing behind him so I was once again left with the moody doorman who’d crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stand guard in front of the club’s entrance.

“He’s going to get Asher,” I couldn’t help but taunt with a smug little smile.

Grim grunted in reply.

Seconds later, Asher popped his head out. When he saw me, surprise lit his face. “Oh, hey. You’re early. Come on in.” When he opened the door wider, the guy still looming in my path refused to budge, so Asher said, “Grim, man. It’s cool. He’s with the band. Sorry, I thought I’d put him on the list.”

“There’s no Remy Curran on the list,” Grim told him.

“Remy...?” Asher blinked, confused, before his eyes lit with understanding. “Oh, right. Yeah.” He motioned to me. “I never got your real name, so I just put you down as Sticks.” Then he nudged Grim aside. “Could you be so kind as to write Remy Curran next to the name Sticks? He can come in.”

Grim didn’t look too happy about it, but he nodded and reluctantly stepped aside.

Asher waved me forward, and I was finally admitted into Forbidden. I was so tempted to stick my tongue out and send good ol’ Grim a raspberry, but I refrained, because raspberries probably weren’t very manly...or mature.

“Sorry about that,” Asher told me as he led me toward the stage. “Grim’s ex-military. He doesn’t stray from the rules. Ever. If Harper had been working the door tonight, he wouldn’t have given you such a hard time. Still...you surprised me. None of the other band members show up until after we open.”

That made me frown. “What about setting everything up?”

“Oh. I usually take care of that.”

I blinked. “Every week? By yourself?”

“Yep.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal while he bounded up onto the stage. “But since you’re here, I’ll let you take care of the drum set.”

“Sure.” Hopping up behind him, I had to pause to glance around in awe, trying to imagine what the place would look like in an hour. I’d been up here once before, singing karaoke, but this felt totally different. Excitement thrummed through me.

I was going to play here...tonight! On the drums.

“So, your real name’s Remy?”

I jumped at the question and glanced Asher’s way where he was kneeling next to an amp and plugging in guitar cords. When my gaze connected with his curious green one, a tickle in my stomach made all my girly parts tweak to life. “Um...yeah.”

Wow, look at me, with my awesome extensive vocabulary around the pretty boy. If I didn’t check myself soon, I’d be drooling on him next.

He grinned, and sure enough, I had to swallow some drool. “But you’d rather go by Sticks?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” Telling myself to say more words, I lamely added, “Either works.”

His chuckle made my hormones whimper. I tried to ignore him and prepare my area, but everything already appeared to be pretty much in order. All I had to do was lower my stool and hi-hat, move the pedals a tad bit closer, re-adjust the snare-drum and shift the toms an inch. So I found myself hovering around Asher, asking him if he needed me to do anything else, while around us, down on the ground floor, other bar workers milled about, preparing the club for opening.

“Umm...” He bit his bottom lip as he glanced around the stage. “Actually, I think we’re good to go. I’m usually the only one who comes in to prepare so I get here pretty early, but if you want to make a habit of it, I can show you the storage closet where we keep everything and how the sound system works.”

I tried not to watch how his lip popped free of his teeth, but it was so freaking sexy, I had to clear my throat before saying, “Sure. That’d be cool.”

I had to move closer to him to better see all the features he pointed out, and man, the guy even smelled amazing. Not fair.

Inhaling deeply, I went lightheaded from the amount of times I breathed him in. Then he sneezed, and por Dios, even that was adorably sexy.

When Asher paused in his demonstration and I said, “This is a pretty sweet setup,” my voice went higher than usual, making it sound extra feminine.

I usually had a slightly hoarse, raspier sound to my vocal chords and people over the phone had often confused me for a guy. But right then, I didn’t sound like one at all. Snapping a worried glanced to my right, I was relieved when Asher didn’t seem to notice.

He grinned proudly and said, “Thanks.”

I was too busy stewing over my worries; it took me a moment to realize what he was saying. Finally, I shook my head. “Wait. You just said thanks as if
you
set this up?”

When he nodded, still grinning out his pride, I returned my attention to the panel of knobs and buttons with new awe. “Impressive. And here, I thought it belonged to the club.”

“Oh, it does.” I glanced at him, frowning my confusion, so he explained. “When Pick—the club’s owner—hired me on, he let me have free reign to install any kind of stage and sound system I wanted. So...I did.”

I shook my head, even more lost. “You...work here?” Did that mean I worked here too? Shit, was I going to have to turn in legal forms, like social security numbers and such?

It was one thing to fib for one night to get to play drums, but lying to the government—yeesh. What had I gotten myself into?

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a long story. I came in one day, trying to beg a night for us to play, but he only needed a bartender. So...we made a deal. I work bar on the nights we don’t play, and he pretty much let me build up anything to do with music in this place that I wanted. He gives me two hundred for Fridays, which...I split up between us four members and pay you guys out with cash.” He paused to send me an apologetic wince. “Sorry, fifty bucks isn’t much, but...”

“Hey, it’s more than I ever got for playing before,” I said, relieved I was getting cash and thrilled I was getting
any
money.

Asher laughed. “Yeah, that was kind of my mindset when we began too.” Clapping me on the back of my shoulder and scaring the crap out of me when he slightly jostled my foam chest out of place, he grinned big. “I think you’re going to fit in just fine, Sticks.”

I momentarily forgot that I needed to readjust my fake chest back into place. But really, when Asher Hart smiled at me with such approval, life was freaking perfect.

This was going to be a night I’d never forget.

“Good evening, Ellamore. Welcome to Forbidden!”

Asher’s greeting into the microphone had a ton of screaming fans—mostly women—rushing the stage, arms waving wildly. I grinned from my safe little stool behind the drum set as Asher had to skip another two steps in reverse to keep grabby girl hands from reaching him.

His nervous laugh echoed through the speaker system right before he said, “It’s nice to see all you ladies too, but let’s get to some music, shall we?”

The women began to chant something that sounded like “If I Knew,” which wasn’t the title of any song Non-Castrato played. I frowned in confusion, wondering what the heck they were talking about.

Asher glanced back at us, mouthing “‘Counting Stars,’” and then he went and lifted his eyebrows my way, giving me a thumbs-up sign.

I wasn’t nervous, didn’t usually have a problem in front of crowds. And with my mask on, there wasn’t even a twitch of performance anxiety. I guess my subconscious knew that if I flubbed anything up, it’d be fine because no one knew it was really me. But the second Asher sent me that little thumbs-up of approval and support, silently letting me know I’d do fine, a little hitch in my heartbeat sent everything inside me haywire.

So I blamed him completely when I dropped a freaking drumstick.

It clanged against the hollow floor of the stage with a resounding echo that caused all my bandmates to look my way...as well as about half the crowd watching us.

Scrambling to retrieve my fallen stick, I straightened so fast blood rushed to my head and made me instantly dizzy. But I sent out a rueful grin and waved both sticks above me to let everyone know I was good. Everything was just fine back here. No reason at all to gape at me like I was an idiot.

Asher turned back to the microphone. “Guess that was my cue to introduce the newest member of our band. Everyone, please give Sticks, the best damn drummer you’ll ever hear, a little bit of encouragement, will you?” Cupping his hand to his mouth, he added more quietly, “This is his first time, so go gentle on him, please.”

Some people laughed, more cheered, but boy, did the room encourage me. All lit up inside, I waved my sticks above my head in greeting, then clicked them four times together to set the beat of the song, and boom...we were playing a cover for one of my favorite OneRepublic songs. Live. In front of people. It took a whole verse before I actually got to play, but when my intro came, I nailed it.

It was...

Awesome.

My dream was coming true. I couldn’t stop grinning, couldn’t stop feeling the rush, couldn’t stop playing. Once the song ended, I just kept going, moving straight into the song, “Ceilings.”

Asher glanced back at me in surprise. Then he rolled his eyes, as if to say he should’ve known, and grinned before turning back for his first line. His voice hit me hard, and seemed to vibrate through my bones, echoing along my spine and shivering out the ends my toes.

It was pure nirvana. My heaven.

I didn’t even realize how many songs or how much time had passed until Asher said we were going to take a quick break. That’s when it suddenly hit me how soaked I was inside my clothes and mask from the sweat that came because of all the heat pouring down from the overhead lights. Then I stood, and my legs and back gave a scream of protest due to sitting for so long.

Working my shoulders and kicking out my legs a time or two, I followed the other three, jumping off the side of the stage and into the crowd. There was no “backstage” so we were instantly swamped, most everyone gathering around Asher to get their hands on him.

A man in a black Forbidden shirt appeared—the same hottie who’d rescued me from Grim, the dick doorman, and fetched Asher to let me in. He helped free Asher from the clingers and then paved a path for us to get to the back hall, where he and Asher led us to a back room with a couch, some lockers, and a small kitchenette.

“Thanks, Quinn,” Asher told the gorgeous giant as he swiped the back of his forearm over the sweat glistening on his brow. “You’re a life saver.”

Quinn’s smile was adorable: sexy, shy and sweet all rolled into one. “No problem. I better get back to the bar, though. You really drew a crowd tonight.”

As Asher waved him off, Quinn began to retreat, only to feel my eyes on him or something, because he glanced my way.

He sent me a small wave of acknowledgement and said, “Good job. You guys sounded great.”

As he disappeared out the door, I stared after the spot he’d been and tried not to sigh. I liked Quinn. There was just something in his aura that made me feel...nice. And safe. Plus he was just so easy to stare at.

That’s when Galloway slapped me in the arm. “Dude, did you catch the redhead who flashed us her tits? The one in the tight, yellow top with cleavage down to her belly button. She was screaming your name.”

I blinked at him, clueless. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You don’t do chicks. What a waste.” He turned to Holden, who was wiping at the pit stains on his shirt, directly under his arms. “Holden, you saw her, didn’t you? I am so fucking that bitch tonight.”

I groaned in disapproval and sought Asher with my gaze. Not sure why, I just always found myself looking at him when he was around. He wasn’t big and classically pretty like his co-bartender Quinn, but checking out his lean frame and deeply angled face caused the same stir in me. Except I didn’t feel at all safe when my eyes were on him. I felt...I don’t know...challenged, a little breathless, exhilarated, as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff and could already feel the rush burn through my blood before I even jumped.

Ignoring all of us, he leaned down to open a miniature refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. My gaze lingered on his ass. He didn’t wear his pants tight, like a lot of rockers these days—ahem, Galloway—but the material sure stretched nice and snug over his perfect ass as he bent over. Then he straightened all too soon and was turning back to us before I could cut my ogling party short.

He caught me in the act, but instead of scowling for checking him out, he lifted his bottle. “Need one?”

I shook my head, even though my mouth was as dry as sawdust. “Actually, I need to find the john.” Which I was dreading. I so did not look forward to entering the men’s room in this place. Why, oh why, had I laughed at Jodi’s Go Girl and purposely not brought it?

“You can use the private one for workers.” He motioned to a nearby doorway, and I nearly wept in relief.

“Gracias.” Thank you, thank you,
thank you
.

I hurried into the small room, glad to have it all to myself, and sped through my potty break. All the sweat that had gathered inside my mask was bugging the hell out of me, but I didn’t give into temptation and take if off for a quick dry-down. I had a bad feeling I’d probably pull it back on all wrong.

Once I washed my hands and returned to the rest of the group, Galloway was still jabbering about all the different women he felt he could score with before the night was over while Holden quietly listened to him. Asher sat sprawled on the sofa with his head back against the cushions, his eyes closed, and his fingers and toes tapping to a beat only he could hear. His lips moved as he silently sang to himself.

When I shut the door behind me, his lashes came open and green eyes assessed me. “How’re you holding up? Your playing’s been great.”

“Gracias.” I shrugged and settled into a side chair. “And I’m good. Definitely feeling the vibe and ready to get back out there.”

The excitement seeped from my voice, causing him to grin like an experienced professional smiling indulgently at a greenhorn and possibly remembering his first time out.

“Well, take my word for it; get all the rest you can now. We’re only halfway through.”

We were already halfway through? No! We couldn’t be that close to being done. I had so much energy still left in me. I wanted to do this for days. And I was so done with this break that seemed to last for days.

Asher went back to his quiet meditation, or whatever he was doing, while Gally just kept talking about his dick and whom he thought he could shove it into before the night was over. Disgusting. Next to him, Holden listened silently to his bragging. I shifted impatiently in my chair, unable to sit still.

Finally, Asher said, with his eyes still closed. “Okay, Sticks. We’ll head back out now.”

Wondering why he was addressing me and no one else, I glanced his way, frowning. “Huh?”

He unfolded himself from the couch, standing in a sexy way only a hot guy could manage, and sent me a grin. “I swear your eagerness is louder than Gally’s chirping.”

Galloway stopped talking to glance our way. “What’d you call me?”

“Nothing.” Asher spun his finger in a circle over his head. “Let’s roll out.”

The second half of our performance seemed to go even faster than the first. And at about a quarter until one in the morning, when Asher wished everyone a good night, I was still too psyched to calm down.

I loved this.

I’d always craved the opportunity, watched other bands on stage and wished I could do that someday, but I still had no idea,
no clue
it’d give me this kind of rush. Plus, the fans really loved us, which was...wow.

And damn, it made me love all of them right back.

As soon as we alighted from the stage, they swarmed in, most of them centering around Asher, but some swooped down on Galloway and Holden too. I screamed out a surprised yelp when a pair of arms wrapped around me and squeezed hard.

“Oh, my God,
Remy
!” Jodi shrieked in my ear. “I can’t believe you actually did it! You were so great.”

“Gracias.” I laughed, and we hugged again. When I pulled away, I saw she was wearing a skintight yellow shirt with swooping cleavage.

Dios, I should’ve known she was the flasher Galloway had been talking about.

“Oh, shit.
You’re
the one who flashed me? I can’t believe you flashed me. Really? That’s like buying a pack of bottle rockets at a used firework stand. You know you’re not getting a boom-boom out of me.”

Jodi laughed. “I know, but I couldn’t help it. I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Galloway butted his way between the two of us to throw an arm around Jodi’s shoulder and grin down at her. “Us
hetero
members of the band sure as hell appreciated the show. Nice tits, by the way.”

Jodi lifted her finely trimmed eyebrows. “Why, thank you.”

“You bet.” He gave her a slow grin. “The name’s Billy. Billy Galloway.”

When Jodi lifted her hand to shake with him, I pushed her fingers down. “No.” Glaring at Galloway, I growled, “She doesn’t want to meet you.”

“Yes, I do,” Jodi said.

I ignored her and continued to glare at the bassist. “Jodi is my
friend
. You stay away. Got it?”

“
Whaaat
?” Gally’s innocent smile wouldn’t have fooled a six-month-old. “I was just introducing myself to your friend.”

“And guessing her bra size,” I muttered.

“36 DD,” he rattled off, and Jodi’s mouth fell open.

“Wow, he’s good.”

“I know, right?” Gally preened and asked, “Want me to show you
how
good?” just as Asher joined us.

“Hey, Sticks. Good job tonight.”

Forgetting Gally, Jodi gaped at him, her eyes bulging as she slugged me on the arm.

“Holy...shit,” she whispered. “Asher Hart is standing
right there
.”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered back. “You see him too?”

Asher chuckled. “Hey,” he said, holding out his hand to Jodi. “You must be Remy’s friend.”

Jodi whimpered as she shook with him. When she continued to stare and pump his hand up and down without saying anything, I rolled my eyes.

“This is Jodi,” I said. “She’s my friend who...typically has better communication skills than I do.”

“Quiero sentarme en tu cara,” Jodi blurted.

Though Asher blinked in confusion, obviously not understanding, I screeched, “
Jodi
!” Unable to believe she’d just asked to sit on his face, or that she actually remembered how to pronounce the phrase right, I gaped at her in horror.