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For the first time since the band broke up, I feel a part of something. I look to where Bret is standing, his arms crossed over his chest and he gives me a knowing smile. He understands how special this moment is. When the song ends, I push away from the piano letting the last key linger with the foot pedal, and there is a momentary quiet in the room before it bursts into chaos, everyone talking at once.
I take the opportunity to make my way over to the mini-fridge and grab a bottle of water, downing almost all of it in one swig. When I turn towards the door, I see Cash leaning against the frame and my heart leaps into my chest.
HIS TALL FRAME blocks the entrance, all black jeans, boots, and a tight shirt. His windswept hair indicates he rode his Harley here. Those stormy eyes linger on me, and all the chaos in the room disappears.
I’m drawn to him like a magnet and we step out into the hallway. He looms over me, pinning my back to the wall as he places a hand above me, caging me in. It feels possessive, and the way he looks at me could light me on fire.
“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” he murmurs, his gruff voice causing a shiver to run up my spine, and a deep ache to begin at my center.
“I do.” I reach out to glide my fingers along the edge of his jacket, the leather soft under my touch. He smiles back with a wolfish grin.
His hand rests on my cheek while the other grips my waist pulling me into him. It feels like we are in a bubble and the rest of the world has fallen away. I would like nothing more than for him to fuck me against this wall, but the chaos from inside the studio has now extended to the hallway, although it doesn’t break the spell I’m under.
“Can you tell this jerk-off to quit touching my fucking guitar?” Jay yells, bursting out of the room, Sam close on his heels.
“Nobody gives a shit about your guitar,” Peter yells after the two of them.
“Bite me!” Sam calls to Jay from down the hall.
I lean my head into Cash’s neck and quietly laugh. I can feel his body shake with laughter, and I picture his prominent dimples.
I breathe him in, the scent of leather and gasoline permeating my senses. Those two smells will always conjure the perfect image of Cash. He moves his forehead to press against my own, and I can feel the deep rumble of his breathing.
“When you sing, you command the attention of every man in that room,” Cash whispers into my hair. “But it’s me you own.”
Someone clears their throat and I slide my eyes to the side to see Bret standing nearby.
“Fuck off, Bret,” Cash says without breaking eye contact.
I can hear Bret’s shoes squeak on the tile as he retreats.
“Wanna get out of here?” Cash asks, and all I can do is nod, my throat too dry to speak. I would follow him anywhere.
He holds his finger up for me to wait and he walks into the studio. Less than a minute later, he comes out with my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “You’re all mine, now.” He holds his hand out for me and I take it, feeling the nervous energy coursing through me.
I watch the bag carefully, my secrets contained inside. One that I’ve been afraid to say out loud because once I do, it will become tangible, real. I will tell Cash tonight, but right now, I just want to be with him with nothing else between us.
We go outside to his Harley which is parked at the curb, the shiny chrome reflecting the sun. I watch as he kick starts it and looks over his shoulder at me with that breathtaking smile, beckoning me to get on the back.
“Hey, Mia, where are you going?” one of the guys asks from the parking lot. Reluctantly, I look behind me to see Jay, Sam, and Peter, crowded around the concrete block, smoking cigarettes and passing the flask around.
“Leaving with my husband,” I call to no one in particular, although each one’s attention is fixated on me.
“You’re married?” Jay asks, confused.
“That’s Cash Morgan,” Erick answers, elbowing him in the ribs.
“What the fuck? Seriously?” Jay does a double-take, trying to look around me to Cash and then realization comes over him. He must not have taken notice of him in the hallway with all of the commotion. “Hey, you’re coming back, right?” He steps forward trying to follow us, no doubt crushing on my husband, one bassist to another.
I lift a leg over the seat and as soon as I wrap my arms around Cash’s waist, he shifts it into gear and roars out of the parking lot, leaving Jay in the dust with his hands in the air.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Grand Opening
“THIS PLACE IS not under the ground, you know that right?” I hear Wade’s voice and spin around, not so gracefully, and crash into him. I wrap my arms around him in a hug.
“Don’t tell Cash you’re making fun of the name he came up with. Personally, I think Underground Records sounds very edgy and cool,” I tease, unable to contain my smile. “I can’t believe you’re here.” I hold him out as if I’m inspecting a package for damage.
