Wicked Innocence (3 page)

your lies were like a poisoned potion,

slowly stole the only dream I had,

little by little the fire died,

and I can’t see the good for all the bad,

but every night that sleep escapes me,

everyday happiness evades me,

another layer fades away,

another step away from yesterday…”

As the words floated from my mouth, I opened my eyes and focused on Saxon, almost afraid I’d lose my shit if I looked away. Did he look impressed? Was that admiration I could see in his eyes? Fuck, he was sexy—

Focus, M. Geez.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. I stood there smiling like an idiot. This was so fucking surreal. I scanned the room, looking for Saxon, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Great job, Micah,” Harry said, slamming me on the back. The other guys also congratulated me. Liam even managed a smile.

“Thanks,” I grinned. My body was still buzzing from what had just happened. That was by far the biggest crowd I’d ever sung in front of. And with the band backing me up, it had been fucking amazing.

I exited the stage to the left in a hurry as the guys moved into their next song. Standing behind the back curtain, I grinned as they rocked out “Obsession,” one of their biggest hits, as the crowd began to cheer.

“You did pretty well out there.”

I whirled around, my eyes wide as I found myself facing Saxon again. My heart began to pound. He’d sought me out? My singing had affected him that much that he came looking for me?

“Thanks. Your little trick about focusing on you helped.” I smiled, curling the ends of my hair around my fingers. I wasn’t a natural at flirting, and I was positive my inexperience was glowing above me like a giant beacon.

“Good. I’m glad,” he said with a smirk, “but I think I was focusing on you pretty heavily too. You have this way of demanding attention.”

I laughed. Was I really hearing this? Was Saxon Waite
hitting
on me? Holy shit!

“So, what do you think?” he asked. His lips curved into a smile, revealing an irresistible dimple in his left cheek. “About the band, that is,” he added.

“I think they’re fantastic. I hope they give me this chance because I want it so badly. This is my dream. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and being out there…” I shivered. I couldn’t even put what I was feeling into words.

“I love that you’re so passionate about music,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m pretty sure you’re in.”

“Yeah?” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I wish I had your confidence.” Before he could reply, the guys wrapped up their last song and came running off the stage.

“You’ve met Micah, I see. What did I tell you, Sax? Perfect, huh?” Harry threw an arm around my shoulder.

“Yeah,” Saxon agreed, his eyes not leaving me. “Perfect.”

My face warmed as my brain began to process what was happening here. Sax…was the ‘manager’ I was yet to meet. He
had
to be. Who else would have known who the hell I was? I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough not to realize it earlier.

Fuck
. I’d been flirting—and poorly at that— with the manager of what was potentially my new band.
Please, please, please let me be wrong about this.

Harry turned his attention to me. “You were awesome out there,” he said, and then took off after the other guys, leaving Sax and me alone again.

“So, how exactly do you know the band?” I asked carefully.

He laughed, leaning back easily against the wall behind him. “Harry is my cousin.” He shrugged, his eyes narrowing in on mine. “I’m the manager you needed to impress.”

I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but all of them bordered on being way too personal. Why wasn’t he playing
with
the band? What had happened all those years ago? How many of the rumors were actually true?

“You haven’t made it very well known that you’re with the band,” I said instead, hoping he would elaborate. I wasn’t sure how much to push the topic with him, but I was so intrigued about what had spurred his return to music.

“Not yet. I’m kind of easing my way back into things.” He laughed suddenly, his lips parting into a smile. “You ask a lot of questions, Micah. I think it’s time you answer some.”

I stiffened. I didn’t like talking about myself. It was easier to just avoid situations that led to these kinds of conversations.

“Hmm, do I sense some reservation?” he teased, cocking his head like he was onto something. “You don’t like talking about yourself? Most girls love talking about themselves,” he added with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I’m not most girls,” I shot back.

“So I’m beginning to realize,” he murmured.

I could feel my face burning up. “So, do I have the job?” I asked. I still hadn’t been given a clear yes or no, and apparently he was the one I needed to impress. I was pretty sure I’d done that, but I needed to hear those words.

“Come over here.” He nodded his head over to where the band were sitting, laughing at something. “So guys, is she in?” he asked.

I stiffened as I felt his hand rest on the small of my back, the tiny hairs behind my neck standing erect.

“Here’s the deal. We’re going on tour for the next two weeks, playing in a few bars and clubs around LA and Vegas.” Harry sat down opposite me, his dark hair flopping over his icy blue eyes. “It’s nothing huge, but it could be great exposure for us. Sax is trying to hook us up with a support for Mission Statement at the LA Music Festival in a couple of months, too.”

I nodded, not letting myself get too excited. This was insane. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“If you’re good with all that, then yeah, you got the job. The money isn’t much, but it should cover our costs while on the road, with not much left over. That going to be a problem?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Nope. Not at all,” I grinned. I was used to living on a tight budget. My whole life had been a struggle financially—doubly so when I’d made the move out here. “So, do you guys travel much?” I asked. Not that it mattered. There was no way in hell I was turning down this job.

“A bit. We go where the money is. Much of what we do is around here, but,” he shrugged, “who knows? Any questions?”

“Just one.” I paused, trying to phrase the question in my head before saying it aloud. “Sleeping arrangements while on tour?” I asked delicately. I could feel Sax’s gaze burning into me.

“You’ll get your own room, honey,” smirked Sax. His eyes slowly and deliberately scanned my body. “Unless you want to share?”

“Thanks, but no,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He reached for my phone.

“My phone number and my address,” he said, handing it back to me. “Rehearsal is at my house,” he chuckled as I raised my eyebrows.

Shit
. Of course it was. He was still laughing as Harry handed me the sheet music for all their songs. I glanced at the stack of papers, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Okay, so we’ll see you tomorrow at ten a.m.”

“Thanks for this. For giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. You earned it,” Harry replied.

Micah

“Where the hell are you?” I asked into my phone as I glanced around the room again, trying to spot Dee’s black and silver dress in the crowd.

“Sorry, I got, uh, carried away,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes at the whispering and muffled laughter I could hear in the background.
I bet. ‘Carried away by some hot guy in a suit’ is more like it.

“So, I’m catching a cab home?” I asked, my voice dry.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised. “Call me in the morning,” she added before hanging up on me.

I sighed, annoyed. This was so typical of her. She was always ditching me for a guy. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stalked toward the exit. I was almost there when Sax called out to me.

“You look flustered,” he commented, a drink in hand.

“I am. My friend just left me here without a ride home,” I mumbled.

“Let me take you home. I was just leaving anyway.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows at the half full glass still clasped in his hand.

He laughed. “Soda and lime. I don’t drink.” His lips tugged into a smile as he set the glass down on a nearby table. “Come on.”

I sighed and followed him. Outside, the cool breeze hit my bare arms. I rubbed them, wishing I’d brought a jacket.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Before I could reply, he had draped his jacket around my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I replied. His warmth embraced me as the soft, sweet musky smell of his aftershave hit my senses. We walked down the road and turned up an alleyway. “You’re not planning on murdering me, are you?” I joked.

Well, half joked. I felt like I was walking into the plot of a horror movie.

“No. But if I were, you’d enjoy it. Trust me.” I blushed and he laughed. “My car,” he added. He pressed the button on his key and the black Jaguar in front of us roared to life.

Nice
. He opened the door for me. I slid inside, noting how the buttery soft leather felt against my skin. He walked around the back of the car and climbed in next to me.

“Where am I heading?” he asked.

“Over near Pike Park,” I said.

My gaze fell to his hands as they eased the gearshift into drive. I coughed and rested my elbow on the edge of the car door. I couldn’t look at him without embarrassingly arousing thoughts crossing my mind. My face went hot as I struggled to control my breathing.

My heart raced as he hummed the tune to one of my favorite songs.

“The Reject Hunters,” I murmured, smiling.

“Yeah, you know of them?” he said, sounding surprised.

I nodded. “One of my favorite bands at the moment.”

“I’m impressed,” he drawled with a smirk. “You know your shit.”

“I waste way too much of my time listening to music,” I laughed.

“No.” He shook his head. “Music is never a waste. “You should feel ashamed even thinking that,” he said. His lips curved into a grin. “So what do you do when you’re not listening to music—or singing?” he asked.

“I work in a diner.” I thought for a moment, realizing how boring my life actually was. “And that’s about it,” I admitted. “It’s the apartment block just up on the left,” I said, pointing to the tall complex.

He pulled over to the curb and smiled at me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Micah with an H.”

I opened the door and got out. “Thanks for the lift,” I said, biting my lip.

“Anytime,” he smirked.

I watched his car disappear down the street and then wandered over to the entrance. Waving at the security guard on duty, I made my way to the elevator, a giddy grin on my face. If anyone saw me right then they would have thought I was stoned. Which was funny, because that’s kind of how I felt.

“Hey,” I said to Nelson as I walked inside.

The door slammed shut behind me, making me jump. Nelson didn’t even flinch. He just mumbled a reply, not looking up from his computer screen. Nelson was twenty-seven and worked as a debt analyst for a mortgage financier. But he lived for his computer games.

He spent all his time glued to his leather recliner in the living room, playing games. I’m talking for hours at a time. It wasn’t unusual for the guy to forgo sleep—and pants—to allow for more playing time.

Another one of my awesome Craigslist finds.

He wasn’t that bad to live with. It could have been a lot worse. My roommate options had been pretty limited: an unemployed meth-head who kept a small bag full of fingernail clippings around his neck, a creepy guy in his forties with way too many cats to be considered normal, or Nelson.

I think I chose pretty well. Three years later I was still living with him, though our conversations hadn’t evolved beyond the odd word from him.

***

I grabbed a Coke and some leftover pizza from the fridge and headed for my room. There was nothing better than cold pizza the next day—and anyone who didn’t agree obviously lacked the culinary sophistication needed to appreciate it.

I flicked my iPad to life and began to drown myself in the sounds of Resurrection. Lying down on the bed, I propped myself up with pillows and ate my dinner. I was still having trouble believing all this was really happening. I’d been singing regularly at open mic nights around LA since moving there, but there was something different about tonight. Being up on that stage and having the attention of every single person in that place had felt fucking unreal. Right away, I could tell this was what I was meant to be doing. It made all the doubts, all the sacrifices, worth it.

Running through my playlist, I found the particular track I was looking for: “Severed,” featuring the vocals of Saxon Waite. Closing my eyes, I listened as his sexy, low, gravelly bass consumed me.

I’d actually met Saxon Waite. More than that, he was about to become my freaking manager. That meant we would be spending a lot of time together. I shivered. The thought of being that close to one of the biggest names in rock made me nervous. Maybe I’d imagined it, but I was sure I felt some kind of connection…or maybe he was like that with every female he met. He was Saxon Waite, after all. I’d heard the stories.

The gossip pages had gone crazy when he had been arrested three years ago. He had been in the headlines for weeks prior, due to his constant partying and alleged drug use. Every photo showed him with a different woman hanging on his arm.

His every move edged him closer to the rock bottom of his downward spiral, showcased in even worse light by the constant barrage of media attention. The paparazzi were everywhere—it was almost as though they knew where he would be before
he
did.

He’d pleaded guilty to a string of charges including possession of cocaine and heroin, driving under the influence, and endangering the life of a minor: his fifteen-year-old sister had been in the car when he was arrested.

After that, it was like he disappeared. Rumors flew that he had gone to jail, rehab, fled the country, but nobody really knew what had happened to one of the biggest names in rock. The band carried on for a few months, but without him as their frontman they couldn’t really put on the caliber of show that Severed was known for and they just kind of fell apart.

I had never heard his name again…until tonight.

I sighed as I pictured his face. He looked older, but he still had that same, sexy bad boy look about him. Those piercing blue eyes and that little smirk constantly playing on his lips…

Who was I kidding? He was fucking hot; and he damn sure knew it.