One Night with Sole Regret 01 Try Me (3 page)

“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asked.

“In my pants,” Shade said and laughed.

Melanie shoved away from the man and headed for a
nice safe corner to collect her thoughts. She half-expected Nikki
to come after her—to either berate her for calling Shade a freak to
his face or because she’d ruined Nikki’s chances with the
egomaniac—but several minutes of staring at the wall convinced her
that Nikki had deserted her for a guy she didn’t even know.
Again
. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her
suspicions. Nikki was laughing and hanging all over Mr. Rock Star
Jerk, who seemed to have his gaze trained on Melanie as he suckled
a spot right behind Nikki’s ear. When Melanie narrowed her eyes at
him, he took Nikki’s hand and led her out a back door.

Melanie scrubbed her forehead with two fingers and
turned to stare at the wall again. She considered leaving, but she
couldn’t desert Nikki without backup. They’d arrived together,
they’d leave together. Besides, the woman’s love life was a
disaster. What if she needed Melanie’s help? Considering who she’d
left with, the chances that she would need Melanie to bail her out
of trouble were all but guaranteed. Melanie supposed attending an
after-party alone with a crowd of tattooed metal-heads was better
than waiting for Nikki in the car by herself, but not by much.
Resigned to her fate, Melanie found the free end of a sofa and sat
to wait, keeping her eyes diverted from the people milling about
the room.

Her gaze trained on the door that Nikki had just
exited, she didn’t notice the man sitting next to her until he
spoke. “I’m surprised you didn’t go with them.”

She tore her gaze from the door to look at him. His
striking green eyes captured her attention from the shadow beneath
the bill of his baseball cap. He was quite possibly the most
attractive man who’d ever spoken to her without Nikki at her side.
She recognized his T-shirt as the one belonging to the guy she’d
careened into a few moments earlier. “Huh?”

“Jacob and your friend.” He pointed the neck of his
beer bottle toward the door that Melanie was so fixated on.

“Jacob?”

“More famously known as Shade.”

“Oh.” She settled her hands on her knees. “I didn’t
realize he had a normal name.”

He laughed. “You didn’t think his mother named him
Shade, did you?”

She shrugged. “Never thought about it.” Her
attention moved to the door again. “What kind of a dork uses a lame
stage name anyway? And why Shade? Because he wears sunglasses all
the time?”

“Yeah, he has to wear them. He has vision
problems.”

Melanie’s stomach dropped and she covered her big,
blabbering mouth with one hand. “He does? Shit. Now I feel
bad.”

The guy chuckled. “I’m just fucking with you. He
wears them because he enjoys looking like a douche twenty-four
seven.”

Melanie laughed. It felt good. Her severe case of
anxiety decreased substantially, and her bitchiness finally took
its leave. “I’m not usually this disagreeable. I just really would
rather be anywhere else than waiting for Nikki to finish her fun. I
honestly don’t understand why she thinks he’s so hot. He looks like
a prison inmate.”

When the guy didn’t speak, she turned her head to
look at him again.

He traced his bottom lip with his middle finger as
he assessed her. “You don’t seem too enamored with the band. What
brings you backstage?”

“A friend I can’t tell
no
.” She sighed. “I’m
such an enabler.”

“Or maybe you’re just a good friend.”

“More like a dumb friend. If I’d quit sticking my
neck out for her, maybe she’d learn some responsibility.”

“But if something really bad happened to her, you’d
feel responsible.”

She gawked at him, surprised he understood the truth
behind her actions so easily.

He smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
That simple expression transformed him from gorgeous to
dazzling.

Melanie’s breath caught. Wow. Now
this
guy . . . She could understand wanting to jump
in bed with him on short acquaintance. Please and thank you.

“Yeah, I totally get it. I’m one of those enabler
types too,” he said.

“So you admit you’re as dumb as I am?”

He chuckled. “I guess so. Would you like a
beer?”

She shook her head. “I have to drive and I’m already
at my limit.” She was pretty sure her sudden lightheadedness was
caused by the company, not the alcohol.

“How about a Coke then?”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Water?”

He nodded. “Jordan!” he yelled at the man at the
bar. “Bring the lady a water.”

“Got it!”

He turned his attention to her again. “So are you
going to tell me your name?”

She relaxed into the sofa cushions, glad she’d found
a normal person to talk to. She’d thought she’d have to spend the
entire night pretending to be invisible. “Melanie Anderson.
Yours?”

He laughed. “You really aren’t enamored with the
band, are you, Melanie?”

What did that have to do with telling her his name?
“I like their music, but they’re not my favorite band or anything.
A bit too heavy for my tastes. Nikki is the one obsessed with them.
She dragged me here against my will.”

A glass of water was pressed into her hand.
“Thanks,” she said to the bartender. She took a sip and waited for
her gorgeous companion to speak again.

“I see. I’m Gabriel Banner.” He grinned at her and
suddenly overwarm, she wondered if someone had switched off the AC.
“Call me Gabe.”

A totally normal name for a totally normal guy. She
would have felt uncomfortable talking to any of the other men in
the room—tattooed, pierced, strange haircuts, chains and
leather—but Gabe looked as normal as she did. His only notable flaw
was the Texas Rangers ball cap he wore. The Angels’ fan in her
wanted to poke fun at his team loyalty, but she could forgive one
little fault.

She smiled and offered her free hand in greeting.
His hand slid into hers. Though he clasped her hand with a gentle
grip, she could feel the strength in those long fingers. Her heart
fluttered when his fingers brushed the back of her hand. “Nice to
meet you, Gabe. How did a normal-looking guy like you end up
backstage with all these, erm,
interesting
folks?”

He hesitated and then laughed as if he thought she
was joking. “They’re great, aren’t they? Are you from Tulsa?”

She shook her head. “Kansas. Nikki wanted to meet
Shade so badly that she made me drive here with her. She couldn’t
get backstage last night. I guess she got what she wanted tonight
though. Where are you from?”

“Austin.”

She did recognize a hint of a drawl in his speech,
but she wouldn’t have pegged him as a Texan—his jeans weren’t tight
enough to cut off the circulation to his balls. She supposed the
Rangers ball cap should have given her a clue. “Did you drive all
the way from Austin just to see Sole Regret?”

He laughed again and tugged on one earlobe. He was
certainly easy to amuse. And the deep, rich sound of his amusement
had her considering clown school to keep him laughing
regularly.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said.

Gabe took the final draw of his beer, extended the
empty bottle, and gave it a little shake. Within twenty seconds it
had been replaced with a fresh brew.

Sipping her water, she wondered why the bartender
was so eager to do Gabe’s bidding. “So, do you know the band?”

He smiled again and Melanie feared she’d melt. She
was very interested in putting a permanent smile on his handsome
face.

“We’ve met. What do you do with your time when you
aren’t enabling your friend?”

“I’m an accountant.”

“That must be . . . ” His
eyebrows drew together. “Boring as shit.”

She laughed. “It pays the bills. Besides, I like
numbers. They’re predictable.”

“I suppose you don’t have an unpredictable bone in
your body.”

She reached up and ran a finger down the side of his
neck. His pulse leapt against her fingertip. “I wouldn’t say
that.”

“Are you coming on to me, Melanie?”

Oh yes, yes, yes. “Maybe,” she said. No sense in
Nikki having all the fun tonight. Melanie was suddenly up for a
little fun of her own.

“I hate to bother you,” someone said from the other
side of Gabe.

A stud piercing spanned the bridge of the guy’s nose
and a palm-sized black skull tattoo covered the side of his spindly
neck. At the sight of the tattoo, Melanie’s heart rate kicked up.
Most tattoos made her feel uneasy, but skull and barbed-wire
designs always freaked her out. Melanie took a huge gulp of water
and returned her gaze to Gabe, wondering how he’d deal with a
confrontation.

“I’m a huge fan of yours, Force,” the
fashion-nightmare gushed. “You’re hands down the best drummer on
the planet. Can I have your autograph?”

Perhaps Nikki hadn’t thrown up all over Sole
Regret’s lead vocalist, but Melanie managed to spit water all over
their drummer.

Chapter 4

Melanie jumped to her feet and searched for
something to wipe the water from the side of Gabe’s face.
Chuckling, he lifted the hem of his T-shirt and rubbed the droplets
from his skin. She couldn’t help but gape at his washboard abs. It
was bad enough that she’d spewed water all over a famous drummer;
spitting all over a
hot
famous drummer with dreamy green
eyes and a gorgeous smile was a tabloid-worthy disaster. Her gaze
fixed on the hint of a tattoo peeking out above his wide, leather
belt near one hipbone. She couldn’t make out what it was before he
dropped his shirt to cover his belly. She expected that feeling of
unease to settle over her now that she knew he had a tattoo, but
she only felt undeniable attraction when she looked at him.

Gabe took the CD from his excited fan and signed it
before turning his attention back to Melanie.

“I am
so
sorry,” she said. “I had no idea who
you were. ”
And how much of an ass I was making of myself as I
criticized your band.

His eyes flipped skyward. “Yeah, I kinda figured
that much.”

“I recognized the other guys in the band because I
saw them on stage, but you . . . ”

“Were the blur behind the huge drum kit.”

“Yeah.” And he looked like a regular gorgeous guy,
not a rock star. She touched her cheeks with her fingertips and
found them hot. “I really am sorry I spit water on you. You must
think I’m a psycho.”

“Actually, I think you’re charming,” he said. “I’ve
never met a woman with the balls to turn Shade down and call him a
freak in the same breath.”

Melanie groaned. “I can’t believe I did that.” She
plopped down on the sofa beside Gabe again and buried her head in
her hands. “I don’t really think he’s a freak. He’s just
so . . . ”

“Arrogant?”

“Yeah.” She turned her head to look at him. “But you
don’t seem to be.”

“I’m just the drummer.” He touched the center of her
back, engulfing her in his body heat and the clean fragrance of
soap and hot-blooded male as he moved closer. “Do you have a
boyfriend?” He stroked her left ring finger just above her first
knuckle. “I know if you had a husband or a fiancé, he wouldn’t let
you out of his sight without a ring on your finger.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he hitting on her? She
was pretty sure he was. Did she mind? Hell no. Even though he was a
musician
and
had a tattoo, she loved what she saw. And she
wanted to do so much more than look.

“I’m currently single,” she said.
Yay!
she
added silently.

“I thought maybe that’s why you rejected Shade, that
you were madly in love with some lucky jackass. You honestly aren’t
attracted to him?”

She shook her head.

“Not even to his notoriety?”

“It doesn’t make him any more special than any of
us. So he’s famous. Big whoop. It doesn’t give him the right to
behave like an ass. You’re famous and you don’t act like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She nodded resolutely.

Gabe leaned closer still, his gaze so intense she
felt frozen to the spot. He lifted a hand to brush his fingers
across her cheek. Melanie’s heart thundered in her chest.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from his. She’d never
seen such green eyes. The contrast of those bright irises against
his dark lashes was mesmerizing.

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not attracted to guys like you.”

“Guys like me?”

“Guys with tattoos.”

“Hmm,” he murmured close to her ear.

Her eyelids drifted closed.

“What about guys with mohawks?”

She gasped and her eyes flew open. “Never.”

Gabe pushed his ball cap off, revealing that the
sides of his head were not only clean-shaven, but tattooed with
black and red tribal patterns. The strip of hair down the center of
his head was a couple inches long and jet black with crimson tips.
So not her type. Then why was her belly tightening with need and
why were her panties uncomfortably damp?

“And I suppose you’d never be attracted to a guy
with a body piercing.”

His warm breath caressed her ear. She stifled a
groan. Why was everything about him turning her on? She really
wasn’t attracted to these bad-boy types. She was likely to cringe
in fear when confronted by someone who looked like him. Now, even
though Gabe had her cornered against the arm of the sofa, she felt
no fear at all. She wanted to touch him. Stroke his mohawk, rub his
scalp, caress his tattoos with her lips. How had those desires been
spawned? She should be flinching away from him, not swaying toward
him. He was exactly the type of guy she avoided as a rule. Yet she
wasn’t the least bit afraid of Gabe. She
wanted
him.