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“Sweet. I’m in,” Geoff said without missing a beat.
Pike frowned. Geoff was a few months out of rehab, and as much as Pike didn’t want to be that guy, he also didn’t want another setback for Geoff or the band. “Dude, that doesn’t sound like a great idea.”
Geoff snorted. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not going to fuck things up this time. I’ve become friends with club soda and lime. I’m going for the girls not the booze.”
Braxton clapped Geoff on the shoulder. “Yeah, and if I catch you with a drink, I’m punching you square in the nuts and dragging you to your sponsor. None of us are going to screw this up. Not when we’re this close again.”
“Noted.” Geoff looked to Pike. “So, you game?”
“Nope.” Pike twirled his drumstick between his fingers. “I’ve got plans.”
“With your dog?” Braxton asked.
Pike tossed the stick at him. “Fuck you. And no, I’ve got a date.”
Braxton knocked the stick away before it hit him. “That brunette I saw you with backstage the other night?”
“Yeah. She’s meeting me here in a little while.”
“Nice. Well, let’s keep working out that bridge then. You should look as badass as possible when she walks in.”
“Good idea. You need all the help you can get,” Geoff agreed solemnly. “I heard that actress you took home a while back shut you down, that you couldn’t close the deal. There were tweets. Lots of tweets.”
Pike gave a derisive sniff and shoved past the two of them to get to his drum kit. “Fuck you both.”
“You might have to. Might be your only options left.”
“Just get back to work, jerkoffs.”
Braxton grabbed his bass and blew a kiss Pike’s way. “And a one, two …”
Oakley sat behind the control board in the studio, unnoticed for the last few minutes, as she watched the guys of Darkfall jam. The music was coming through the speakers, filling the small space and wrapping around her. She hadn’t heard the song before but liked it already. It was slower than most of their other tracks, with a heavy, thudding beat, and the steady bass was working to soothe her jumbled nerves.
She’d been looking forward to tonight since the moment Pike had suggested it, but now that she was here with an overnight bag packed in the car, she wondered if she was out of her depth. Pike looked like a beast behind his drums, arms rippling, eyes closed, drumsticks twirling. He emanated this raw sexuality that both turned her on and intimidated the hell out of her. How was she going to match up with that?
She’d been with exactly two guys in her life. The first—Reagan’s dad—had been a fucked-up situation from the start. He’d been Pop Luck’s manager and twelve years older than her. At sixteen, she’d thought she must be special for an older, sophisticated guy like Liam to take an interest in her. She’d never considered how wrong it’d been for him to be putting moves on a minor.
And convincing her into his bed had been like a series of well-calculated chess moves—him playing on her insecurity and inexperience and teaching her “what guys liked.” He’d been handsome and charismatic, so she’d fallen into the trap easily. He started her slow, like he was just helping out the poor sheltered girl from Oklahoma get used to her new life in California. Then the compliments and attention had started, and she’d fallen under the spell. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I can show you how to kiss. I can take care of you better than guys your age ever could. Until finally, they’d fallen into a physical relationship and he’d told her he loved her.
It still made her stomach turn to think of it. She’d bought it all. He’d been wildly jealous and had kept male fans away from her. He’d made her promise not to tell her brother because Devon would break them up. She’d seen it as protective. He’d dictated where she went, what she wore, how she acted. She’d thought he was keeping her safe. And in a way, she’d liked that he seemed to care that much. There’d been some comfort in that role.
Then she got pregnant. And the real Liam had shown his face. She wasn’t his one and only. It wasn’t love. She was disposable. And replaceable.
Her other encounter had been the guy she’d tried to date when Reagan was younger. The sex hadn’t been anything extraordinary, but he had seemed to enjoy himself, and it’d been nice enough for her—well, until he’d dumped her over her night job.
But she had a feeling with Pike, she was entering a whole different arena. The phone sex alone had been way hotter with him than any in-person encounters she’d ever had. Plus, he belonged to a sex resort for God’s sake. What did that even mean?
She put her hand to her forehead. Hell, she was having freaking stage fright over sex. This was ridiculous. It’s not like sex was some mystical process. Pike was a guy. She talked to guys every night on the phone and handled herself just fine. What turned them on was pretty easy to decipher.
The music stopped and she looked up. Pike was smiling her way through the window. “Looks like it’s quitting time, boys.”
She shook her head then searched for the button on the panel that would let her talk to them. The control board was different from the ones she’d seen back when she was in the business, and there were way more computer screens going.
“The orange button,” Pike said.
She found it and pressed. “Don’t quit on account of me. I’m fine listening.”
But the guys were getting up from their spots anyway and putting their instruments away. Pike came through the doorway first, sauntering in like sex appeal personified in his heather gray V-neck T-shirt and black jeans. He grabbed her around the waist and gave her a quick kiss. “Hey, mama. Glad to see you didn’t chicken out.”
