Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance (63 page)

“Shower stall was boring with no lyrics on the wall,” she joked.

Snapping out of his trance, he looked her over and then settled his gaze on her face. “I’ve reformed my ways.” Her inquisitiveness must have shown on her face, because he added, “Except at my own house. If you’re missing shower lyrics, you’ll find them there.” She knew he was joking—sort of—but an uncomfortable silence descended, and he broke it with another more respectable invitation. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure. Okay.”

The guys had resumed their video game in the back, and Landon was sprawled fast asleep on the front couch. She gently slipped the remote from the relaxed grasp of the drummer, and Gage commandeered it to put a movie on. They both settled in the booth seat of the kitchen table that faced the screen and propped their feet across on the adjacent bench.

“You doing okay?” Gage’s inquiry was soft, and she knew he was speaking primarily of the tour more than anything else happening in her insane life when he nodded his head to their surroundings. “With all of this?”

“It’s weird, you know. But I’m good, I guess.”

Perhaps it was the ‘I guess’ tacked onto the end that drew his gaze from the television to the side of her face. She felt the trail of his eyes as surely as she’d felt the heat from his touch earlier.

“You don’t have to stay. If it gets too much, or it’s more than you thought, you should leave.”

“I can’t, really. When Jax first spoke with me about it, he kinda said the decision to put Rattler on tour hinged on whether or not I accepted his offer.”

“But he can hire someone else.”

“You trying to get rid of me?” She used his tactic of this afternoon against him. It was an attempt to divert the subject before she let it slip that
he
was quite possibly who Jax was the most worried about.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. This is what I want to do. To create a business around this to help anyone whose life is on the road. Because that’s where most slipping happens. Right?” He nodded, and she looked down at the table, knowing he was remembering the times he’d fallen off the wagon. “Even if I’m not out on the road, I still need the experience of being on the road to run my business right.”

“Who’s blowing up your phone?”

Accepting the subject change, she acknowledged the notification tones that had been drifting from her bunk for the last hour. “Henni, probably. Or Logan.” She knew she was testing his reaction to the last name, but chickened out of meeting his gaze and concentrated instead on threading and unthreading her fingers.

“Logan?”

“You knew we were going out, right?” Now she brought her chin up and found him wearing a look of resignation.

Instead of answering, he asked, “My Dad call you back yet?”

“He sent an update text yesterday. Said the lawyers were going to fax him something that seemed promising.” Hopping up, she pulled open a cabinet and produced a box of microwave popcorn. “Screw their rules. I need spicy popcorn!”

The day she’d unpacked it from the bags of groceries she’d brought in, Landon and the others had been quick to tell her popcorn stunk up the bus for days.

Gage eased out of the seat and opened the spices while she got the bag ready and popped it into the microwave. The tiny kitchen had them brushing together with almost every move and her heart pounding.

As the random pops began, she fiddled with the cayenne pepper shaker. “I should tell you something.” She kept her voice low, but knew he could hear since he was standing less than six inches away. “The video on the beach.” Her heart pounded harder and a flush spread through her body. “Of us.” As if he needed to know what video. She gulped and tried to pull herself together and cool her horny thoughts. “My mom said that was Ketchum’s doing.” She explained how he’d been following her—even apparently to Mexico—when her mother refused to tell him where she was staying while in L.A. “He, um, supposedly had a way of checking flights. But I think she may have accidentally told him or something. And then even if he didn’t know where we were staying… Well that tweet thing happened where he could have found us at the club and followed us from there.” The popcorn was exploding in earnest while Gage was too silent for too long. Still, she couldn’t look at him.

Popping slowed and she extracted the bag, carefully opened it, dumped their spice mixture in, and rolled it closed so she could shake the mixture.

Gage’s response when it came at last sounded emotionless, but she knew him well enough to know when he seemed cold and unaffected, he was furious. “Fuck him. I’m going to find him and make him sorry he ever started this shit.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. That’s exactly why I wasn’t going to tell you!”

“You weren’t going to tell me?” In one smooth maneuver, he was in front of her, forcing her to look at him. “You weren’t going to fuckin’ tell me? Fuck that, Scar. Christ… This shit is my life too, you know. Fuck this!”

He spun about but his exit was blocked by the two gaming band members who’d obviously been drawn by the sound and smell of the forbidden popcorn.

“I know. I know. At least try it before you bitch at me for making it.” Scarlette shoved the bag at them since her appetite for the snack was gone.

“They’re not going to say a fuckin’ word. If you want popcorn, you can have fuckin’ popcorn anytime you want. End of story.” Gage shoved his way past the two of them, and a second later was swallowed up in his bunk.

“Dammit, this shit is good!” Both were shoving fistfuls of popped kernels into their mouths. They asked if she wanted some and when she answered ‘it was all theirs,’ they disappeared into the back again.

Eyeing the curtain across Gage’s bunk, she put away the spices, rinsed out the cups in the sink and wiped up. After turning off the television and tucking the remote into its holder, she dimmed the lights and stood, slightly hypnotized by the road humming under her feet as she considered what to do next.

Padding to the middle of the bus, she paused, instead of climbing into her bunk. All was dark behind Gage’s curtain. No flicker of a television, which even when he didn’t have his headphones on, he normally slept with it muted like he had in his own bedroom.

“Gage?” She knelt and spoke to the slight gap between the curtain and the wall where his head would be. “I’m sorry.” Nothing. “Okay? Don’t be mad.” Fuck, she couldn’t handle even a day on this tour with him mad at her. “Okay?”

The drape suddenly shot open, one of his arms came out, hooking her, and when she fell onto him, he closed the curtain again. “Okay.” The word was husky and agreeable.

Her body burned pleasantly in every area of contact with his. He smelled of popcorn, the festival, and himself. She’d never forgotten his scent, or the feel of his breath fanning her face.

“Okay then.” She braced on her hands, pushing up as far as the small confines allowed and rubbed her elbow when it hit what clearly felt like one of his guitars. She understood. She slept with her guitar too. “I should go to bed.”

“Says who?”

“Me?”

“Do I get a say?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because. I know what you’ll say.” Her thoughts went back to the day she’d arrived and the conversation left hanging.
It is though, you know. Your business. Because you could never be with some sociopathic dick.

“What will I say?” He rumbled, and what suspiciously felt like a brush of his fingers feathered across her hip.

She was in dangerous waters and she knew it. Saying what she thought he would say would cross in her mind enough to feel like she was saying it. Because God knew, that’s what she wanted to say.

“Kiss me.” Obviously, tired of waiting for her to find her tongue to speak, he whispered the invitation of her tongue for other things.

She’d heard the plea in that tone so many times; her body went on autopilot. Her lips dipped toward the dark void of his voice, before she stopped herself. “I can’t.” She technically still had a boyfriend. Although, she knew now, Logan had never been a boyfriend. He’d been her safety net. He’d been a way to ensure no other man got close. And he’d been a way to ensure she wouldn’t jump Gage during this tour.

“Then go. Go, Scar. Before
I
kiss
you
.” The threat was clear. If he kissed her, he’d roll her over and never stop.

She skedaddled to her bunk. Lying prone, she threw an arm over her eyes and tried to still her hyperactive breathing. The steady flash of her phone light was making her crazy. During a phone call only a few days into the tour, she’d called a truce with her mom who now texted several times a day over nonsensical stuff. Assuming the annoying blink was due to Henni, ranting because takeout hadn’t put her dressing on the side or something silly, she picked up the device with the intention of clearing the notifications without looking, but one stood out.

A text with an attachment from her ex-stepfather.

Sliding open Gage’s text window, she tapped in, ‘I think your father sent the fax.’ Only after she’d hit send did she realize she’d automatically turned to Gage. Given the intensity of the last several minutes, she wouldn’t blame him if he ignored her. Or, he might have thrown headphones on to jam to sleep. She was already making excuses for his non-response when her phone vibrated with his answer.

She stared so intently at the screen, waiting for the phone to vibrate her fingers that she jumped when her curtain drew back.

Gage’s face was level with hers, and his tone was gentle, yet no nonsense. “Open it.”

Obediently, she tapped the paperclip icon and watched the document fill the tiny screen. Instead of swiping with her thumb and forefinger to enlarge the top section enough to read it, she looked over at him. That was a mistake, because he was right there. Close enough for that kiss she’d refused minutes ago. Even in her nervousness over something that could change her life, she was thinking about kissing him. Not good. Damn rock stars.

Shoving the phone between their faces, she begged. “Can you look at it first?”

“Look at it, or read it?” He seemed wary, but accepted the handoff.

“Read it silently. And then I’ll read it.”

His brows rose even more skeptically. “Okay. But I don’t get why you want me to know first.”

“Because I can watch your face and know if it’s good or bad. And I’ll be prepared.” Feeling vulnerable on her back, she scooted back enough to turn and prop on one elbow.

His eyes focused on the screen, and she scrutinized his expression as the light bounced off his features. Not one twitch. The lashes, too sinfully long for a guy, rose, and his look met hers. No tightening of his lips. No slight furrow of his brow. No hand lifting to his hair. Her breath expelled in one long relieved huff, and she put out her hand. “Thanks.”

For a nanosecond, she read in his eyes the understanding that they knew one another well enough for her to glean what she’d wanted to know.

Dear Ms. Conterra,

Your father, Tyler Conterra, requested a paternity test prior to the drawing up of his will. The dates of that test and the results are in the photocopy below. The concluding column indicates a 99.999999% chance of paternity. The only thing that could be weighed against that outcome would be the possibility of an identical twin as paternity. Tyler Conterra has no sibling on record.

Letting her hand fall to the mattress, she turned her chin and met Gage’s eyes. Reaching in, he brushed her hair from her face and leaned in enough to touch his lips to her forehead. “Get some sleep. Maybe we can get in some breakfast and a couple hours of sightseeing after we get checked into the hotel in the morning.”

“What’s goin’ on here?” Landon bellowed. His eyes were bloodshot with fatigue—or had he been drinking? Her gaze fixated on his face, noting the pink tint of a slight sunburn. Maybe the sun was the culprit for the red eyes as well. “Should I get my camera?” Startled by his bold and rude insinuation, she hit her head when she reflexively tried to sit. Quick as a cat, Gage swung around and just missed the other man. The bathroom door slammed, and from beyond it Landon goaded, “Don’t start anything until I’m filming!”

Gage’s fist hit the door—twice! But she watched impressed when he pushed away from the lavatory without a word. The grit of his teeth told her his temper was hanging by a thin thread.

She saw him flex his fingers and shook her head. “He’s an idiot. Leave him be.” Hopping down, she eased between him and the door and then onto the kitchen. The other two had appeared from the back and watched avidly as she opened the fridge, grabbed two of the ice tea drinks she and Gage had recently become addicted to and passed him one. “Let’s grab the couch and finish the movie.”

She fell asleep less than twenty minutes into the flick with her head on Gage’s shoulder—a picture which received five hundred and forty hearts on Instagram by the time Gage saw it the next day.

Landon’s phone disappeared not long afterward and later turned up during the pumping of the buses toilet.

Truthfully, things had been simmering between him and Gage a very long time. But the moment a smartphone stained blue was returned to Landon in a Ziploc bag could be considered the catalyst for everything down the line.