Hyde and Seek (9 page)

I switched to another message and did a giddy bounce when I saw it was from Jake.

Way to play it cool, Piper.

Jake:
Mornin’.

Me:
Yo.

Jake:
Another wine filled date tonight?

Me:
I was thinking I’d move up to vodka.

Jake:
Cute. Wanna come party instead?

Me:
On a Sunday?

Jake:
What, you think we take Sundays off?

Me:
Ain’t no rest for the wicked?

Jake:
Rest is for the dead. Life is for the living, Piper.

His words hit me hard. I didn’t want to play it safe and live with regrets. I wanted to do what I loved and make the most of the life that I had. It’s what I’d been trying to do, what I’d been working for.

While I looked at his words, another message from him popped up.

Jake:
So, plans?

As much as life was for the living, it was also for enjoying the rare, peaceful quiet. Especially when that included some chocolate and garbage TV.

Me:
Just being lazy tonight, no work.

Jake:
So that’s a yes then.

Me:
No, it’s a me saying I’m being lazy, so maybe another time.

Jake:
Would you change your mind if I said it was a party at our bud Jet’s house?

Me:
Uhh, no?

Jake:
What if I said that Jet was the X-ers drummer?

Me:
No way! I saw them in concert once, they’re amazing. How do you know him?

Jake:
We went to school together. They’re leavin’ on tour in a few days. Tonight is a goin’ away thing. In?

Me:
Oh, I’m so in.

Jake:
I see how it is. When it was just me, you were lazy. Now you’re goin’ for the band. Groupie.

Me:
Damn straight. What time?

Jake:
I’ll pick you up at eight.

Me:
Awesome.

Jake:
I gotta get some work done. See ya, babe.

Now how am I supposed to be lazy?

*******

“No, I’m sure this sketch would get approved. Who wouldn’t want a cake that looked like it was cut with a weed whacker?” I muttered to myself. Tilting my sketchbook to the side, I looked at it again. “Or maybe it was mauled by Satan’s cats.” Ripping the paper out, I crumpled it up and tossed it on the growing pile.

When it became obvious that my focus wasn’t on the badly doodled cake sketches I was working on, I gave up trying. Instead, I decided to make the most of my day off and pamper myself with a soak in the tub and all things girly.

Fearing a repeat of Friday night, I didn’t spend too long in the bath. Of course when I gave myself the time, my makeup only took one redo.

Even my hair cooperated when I used a barrel brush to blow-dry it wild. With my luck, I’d expected it to fall flat, become a snarled mess, or maybe even start on fire.

When I finished my hair and makeup, I pulled on dark gray skinny jeans and a thick, hot pink belt. After, I stood, for what felt like forever, staring into my open closet.

Okay, so apparently the perfect shirt isn’t going to catapult itself out at me.

Damn.

Jeans and my hot pink wedge shoes were a safe bet. The top was what would make the outfit casual or dressy.

The problem was that I had no clue what kind of party it was going to be. I could safely guess that it wasn’t going to be overly formal, but that still left a lot of options.

I reached for a fitted t-shirt when something towards the back caught my eye. Shifting hangers, I pulled out a corset style top.

Dark gray with pink detailing, the halter showed off my tattoos, accentuated my curves, and looked rocker glam. I’d bought it on a whim but had never worn it.

If there was any place to wear rocker glam, I figured a party at an actual rocker’s house was it.

I was putting on a gray bolero when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, I was surprised to see Jake.

“Hey, you’re early.”

Jake didn’t say anything, but his eyes swept over me, making me wonder if I should’ve gone with a more casual look.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“No, not really.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t suppose I could convince you to go change, huh?”

“Should I? I wasn’t sure what type of thing this was.”

“Got any sweats and hoodies four sizes too big?”

“Um, no?”

Jake shook his head. “Then don’t bother. You look hot, sweets.”

Sweets?

“Thanks, so do you.”

Which wasn’t quite true. He was definitely working a scorching look in motorcycle boots and worn in black jeans. A white t-shirt contrasted with his tanned skin and showed off his tats and strong arms. His hair was pulled back and I wondered again how it looked down.

And how it felt.

I was thinking I might be starting to get a tiny bit obsessed.

Starting?

Tiny?

Full-blown, baby.

“What happened to the other kind of thanks?” he asked, his voice low.

His arms went around me, pulling me closer as he lowered his mouth lightly to mine.

I liked gentle a lot but my body remembered the kiss from Friday night. Without thought, I used my tongue to trace the seam of Jake’s lips.

He groaned before deepening the kiss.

Too soon he pulled back, ending the moment. “We gotta go.”

“Okay,” I murmured from my haze.

“Fuck, really wanna kiss those lips again, but then we won’t be leavin’ at all.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

I’m sure there’s some appeal to leaving, but I can’t for the life of me remember what. Maybe we should stay here until I figure it out.

My face must have shown my thoughts, making Jake kiss me again, hard but much too fast.

“Let’s go, sweets.”

I locked up and followed him down the walkway, running my hand over the back of my neck. My nerves were on edge about tonight and I couldn’t shake my anxiety lately. I was worried about doing something embarrassing and having to avoid Jake and the guys.

As in, I’d be changing my name and moving to a remote town where the moose outnumbered the people.

I caught sight of Jake’s Fat Boy Lo Harley, pulling me from my heavy thoughts. I’d seen it briefly last night, but the close-up view was infinitely better. Black with chrome detailing, it was sleek and powerful without looking like a crotch rocket. Not that I minded crotch rockets on occasion, but my love was for cruisers.

As much as I wanted a bike, I figured delivering cakes on one might get a little messy, so I went with the van.

“Awesome,” I whispered reverently.

Jake’s lip twitched. He grabbed a helmet and put it on me, his fingers lightly brushing my jaw and neck. Straddling the bike, he took care of his own helmet before helping me on.

Under normal circumstances, even in heels, I’d have had no issue getting on the bike. After seeing him on it, however, I was finding myself a little weak in the knees.

As the engine roared to life, I wrapped my arms around Jake’s waist. He pulled them tighter, moving me closer in the process.

With my front flush to his back, I could feel each muscle ripple, each tendon tighten, as he moved. I rested my head between his shoulders as we took off.

I was disappointed when we pulled into a driveway. I loved the feel of the ride, the sights flying by as the wind whipped around us. It was invigorating. It was beautiful.

It was freedom.

Experiencing it pressed tight to Jake didn’t hurt, either.

Jake pulled up to the side of the house and cut the engine. Hopping off the back, I set the helmet with his and shook out my hair.

“Damn,” someone said from the porch.

I turned and barely contained my fangirl squeal when I saw Jet.

“Hey, baby, I’m Jet. Before anyone else sees you, how about you and I—”

“Too late,” Jake said. Curling his arm around my shoulders, we walked towards the steps.

“‘Be a drummer,’ everyone said. ‘You’ll get all the girls,’ everyone said. Everyone was wrong. Shoulda taken a fuckin’ shop class,” Jet sighed dramatically.

“You did, you just didn’t go. Pretty sure you spent a big chunk of your time in the nurse’s office.”

“Hey, Nurse Maggie and I had a real connection!”

“She was
fifty
!”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t deserve love. Fuck, I still got a thing for nurses. Can’t even go to the damn doctor without gettin’ wood.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. Rock stars were supposed to be all ego and arrogance, but I’d always heard the X-ers were down to earth and humble.

“You must be the gorgeous Piper,” Jet said to me.

“That’s me,” I wheezed.

I just got called gorgeous by the drummer for the X-ers.

Be cool, Piper. No one likes a screaming groupie.

“Breathe, groupie,” Jake whispered in my ear, his voice amused as he proved he could read my thoughts.

I can be cool. I got this.

Right?

Maybe.

Jet lead the way into his house. “Let’s go get you two some drinks, huh? The night is young, but the party is already kickin’.”

The living room was full of people hanging out and dancing, the loud music traveling throughout the house. There was a drinking game going on in a dining room, everyone laughing and cheering.

I’d never been to a farewell party for famous rockers going on tour before, but this wasn’t what I’d expected. The rock ‘n’ roll vibe was definitely there, but it was relaxed and chill. Instead of a pretentious Hollywood-esque party, it felt more like a kegger.

Freakin’ awesome.

When we got to the back of the house, my inner groupie was dangerously close to jumping out and screeching.

The X-ers and some of the guys were casually sitting around a large table in the homey kitchen with open bottles of beer in front of them. Their loud conversation and laughter filled the room.

Sweet baby Elvis, I’ve died and gone to groupie heaven.

That feeling went into overdrive when Gage, the lead singer, looked up from the table at us. “Aww, you brought me a going away present. Jake, man, you know me so well.”

Jet shook his head. “I’ve already struck out. No way you’ve got a chance.”

“Maybe that just means she’s got good taste.” Gage threw me his signature bad boy smirk.

I knew from seeing an X-ers show shortly after my eighteenth birthday that he was tall. With lean sinewy muscles, black hair, and dark blue eyes, he always looked dangerous. From what I’d heard, it wasn’t a persona he put on to sell tickets and albums. He’d lived a rough life and still had demons that haunted him.

“Hey,” Kase said, coming over with a beer in each hand. He handed one to Jake. “Beer, Pipe?”

“Water?”

“Su—” Kase started before Jet interrupted.

“We got a full bar, Piper, and this is our last chance to get a hottie drunk. By the time we get around them on tour, they’re already shitty or close to it. Takes the fun out of things when all we see is sloppy, ya know? We miss the fun in between part. Get her something strong.”

I shrugged and gave Kase a smile. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to drink. I just didn’t want to get stupid.

I was having enough trouble with my inner groupie while I was sober.

When Kase went to grab my drink, Jet turned back to the table and threw his arm around my shoulders. “Piper, this is Gage, Ryder, Rocco, and Zeke.”

As if I needed introductions. As if I didn’t know.

Ryder was the guitarist, Rocco, the bassist, and Zeke, rhythm guitar and backup vocals. Zeke was also the baby of the group and the only one from outside of Massachusetts. He was a southern boy, with down-home charm and manners in a rocker package.

Unsurprisingly, he was also first to hop out of his chair and offer it to me.

Jet steered me over, once again not really giving me a choice. And, once again, I didn’t really care. Especially when Jake moved to stand close behind me.