Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (29 page)

“Dude, I had nothing to do with this! I swear!”

They curse again and exit the bus to properly confront the
delivery guy and claim their bounty. I’m still laughing as I glance back at
Holland, startled by her giant grin.

“Wait…you? No…” I whisper in disbelief.

She just shrugs. “I may have helped with the brainstorming
session.”

All lingering doubts are removed when Jesse and Parker emerge
to exchange a casual fist bump with Holland on their way to the door.

“Be prepared to run,” she advises them, and they give her a
grin.

“We got this,” Jesse assures her. They begin their descent,
and we rush to the window to watch the coming confrontation.

“Oh, sweet! Is that pizza? I’m starving!”

I had no clue musicians could run so fast.

∞∞∞

The
meet and greet is particularly tiresome tonight. It’s this void in my head,
normally a vacuum I can fill with whatever present is necessary for survival,
but now is increasingly filled with Holland. Her smile, her music, her
incredible mind, and yes, the way she feels when my hands slide over her addictive
body. The way my own ignites when she claims me every chance she gets. I’m
aching for her, and the constant stream of attention from women who aren’t her
is becoming more than I can bear.

I don’t know how many autographs I sign, photos I take, and
invitations I turn down, but it can’t be more than every other night. It’s
still an eternity by comparison.

“You ok, man?” Casey asks when it looks like we’re finally
about to be released for the night.

“Yeah, fine, why?”

“Um, well, for starters you almost made that one girl cry.”

My brain does a quick index but comes up with nothing. “What
are you talking about? What girl?”

He seems annoyed. “I don’t know. The girl with the…the…” His
emphatic hand gestures are certainly earnest, but do nothing to turn air into
nouns. “I don’t know what you call those things. The old man hat.”

“Fedora?”

“Sure, whatever. That girl.”

“She was upset?” I ask, surprised. I do remember her now. Her
name was
Evie
I think, and she wasn’t wearing a
fedora, but some newsboy cap looking thing. I made a comment about it, which I
feared she misinterpreted as interest when she invited me to a club later with
her friends. I thought I nailed the rejection, but maybe not.

Casey shrugs. “She called you an asshole as she walked
away.”

I wince. “Yeah? Well, sorry I didn’t want to go out with her
friends. Or any of the other twenty offers I got. I thought I was nice about
it.”

“Anyway, whatever, you just seem off right now, that’s all.”

I’m not sure what he means by “off,” since my “on” has never
exactly been
well-documented
. But I do know I’m not
interested in finding out at the moment. “I’m going to go meet Holland,” I say.
“You getting Callie?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think we’re all heading into the City
tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Do you know what you’re doing yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ll check with Callie and the guys
but I’m sure Sweeny and Eli will want to hit up Neptune while we’re here. When
they come up for air with those brunettes, we can ask.”

I make a face. “Really? I hate that place.”

“Lots of hot models in bikinis.”

I roll my eyes. “Exactly. Hot models in bikinis who expect
to be acknowledged.”

“We don’t have to go. We can split up and do something
else.”

But my brain seems to have even less interest in event
planning. It was a long night and I just want to see Holland. “Whatever you
want to do is fine. Just text me the details.”

I say goodbye to Casey and motion to Eli and Sweeny that I’m
leaving. They nod their response, and I’m off in search of Holland. I’m hoping
she’s finished up with her fans and glance at my phone to see if she’s sent any
updates. There is a message, but it’s from an unknown number. I open it and my
pulse starts to pick up.

You were amazing tonight. Can’t wait to meet up later. Been a while,
huh.

I hope it’s a wrong number, but man, those odds are
terrible.

∞∞∞

Casey
was right. Eli and Sweeny have their horny little hearts set on The Neptune
Club, but Casey, Callie, Holland, and I opt for the admittedly less trendy, but
much classier Region 3 bar. Sure, our tabs will be identical, but at least the
four of us have zero chance of being soaked by bikini-clad models grinding us
on the dance floor. That’s an undisputed win in my book.

The obvious loss of the evening, however, comes in the form
of Wes and Spence who also choose Region 3 over the Neptune models. This twist
surprises everyone but Holland and me, and it’s everything I can do to keep the
glare in my chest from spilling onto my face as I meet her at the buses to wait
for the others.

“You ok?” Holland asks, slipping her arms around my waist.

“Fine,” I mutter.

She searches my eyes and sighs. “Is this about Wes going
with us to the club? You know there’s absolutely no way he doesn’t go.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. The guy is
ridiculous.”

“I know. But maybe it’s good.”

My gaze shoots to hers and the glint in her expression when
she smiles seriously threatens my bad mood. “Good? How could being stalked by
Nanny Wes possibly be good?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess this is the way I see it.
I’ve had to watch you all night, the way you own that stage, basically enslave
everyone else in the stadium to your will. It kind of wrecked me, Luke. You
know
,
filled my dirty mind with a long list of wicked,
vile things I want to do to you.” Her eyes slide over me, exposing her desire
and releasing a violent surge of fire. “And of course, you’ve been undressing
me since the moment I met you by the door. Even now, I can tell my clothes are
being scattered all over this shady parking lot.” Her tone is so steady, so
measured, and making me completely crazy. “So given all of that, yeah, I just
don’t see any way we go to that club tonight and leave with our reputations
intact without Wes. He’s saving our good names. We should be thanking him.”

She’s only making me hate him more.

I let out my breath in exasperation. “Or we could have found
a private place to work through our ‘temptations.’” I slip my hand over her ass
for good measure and savor her surprised gasp. She glares at me, but I suspect
it’s because she liked it, not because she didn’t.

“Someone is going to see us!” she warns, swatting me away.

I grin and shrug. “If they do, I’ll let you give me a very
dramatic slap. The press will love it.”

She rolls her eyes. “You would too.”

“Par for the course, darling. A necessary evil when you have
an entire stadium of women lusting after you.”

“Oh, please. So now you’re going to get all cocky?”

Her grin betrays her, and I have to kiss her. I feel her
everywhere inside me, my body screaming for even the slightest drop of relief.
I actually curse when I catch the shadow moving toward us, preventing our last
chance to release before the brutal night of forced friendship. She sees it too
and quickly pulls away.

“Not sure how much longer I can do this,” I warn quietly
against her ear as we resume our friend stance.

“Neither am I,” she tosses back. “But we don’t have a choice
unless you’re ready for the media explosion.”

I sigh. I’m so not.

I squint toward the shadow that begins to materialize into
hints. It’s clearly a woman, but not Callie. Maybe Tess? She seems too tall for
Tess, though.

Oh shit, the shadow isn’t Tess.
My heart
just about crashes into my ribs.

I start screaming, wailing, and lashing out with a riot of emotions,
but none manage to escape my head as I stare at the approaching figure in
horror. I fear I’ll be sick, but that would be too merciful of an end to this
nightmare.

“Hey, stranger,” she purrs, slinking up to us. She casts
Holland a quick look, but I don’t dare to do the same. I can’t breathe. “You’re
a difficult man to track down. I figured you’d wait for me.” She’s expecting a
response, they both are, I’m sure, and my brain scrambles for words as my pulse
thrashes against my veins. This isn’t happening. There’s no way I’m awake, or
alive, or…

“Luke? Hello?” She waves her hand in front of my
face which
would have been rude even if she wasn’t the biggest
mistake of my life.

“What are you doing here, Laurel?”

I wanted it to be belted, growled with the fire of the hell-beast
chomping at my entrails, but instead it trickles out as an embarrassing drool
from my numb lips. I wonder if my face is as contorted as my soul. Hers is… oh
god,
her demon face that has haunted me for a year and a
half is now my present.

She looks surprised, then hurt. “Didn’t you get my text?”

My eyes widen. “That was you?”

“Ouch. Wow. Lost my number, I guess?”

“Luke, what is going on? Why is Laurel
Karns
here?” Holland asks. It’s more whimper than anger, which only makes the accusation
so much worse. I turn my horrified gaze on her but can’t begin to handle the
pain in her eyes when my own heart is spiraling into panic.

“I never kept your number…” I bark, focusing back on my
first problem. “You need to leave.” There’s the fire. Thank god!

“Excuse me?”

I’m probably more shocked that she’s shocked. “Seriously, I
don’t know why you’re here or why you contacted me but…”

“Um, you’re the one who contacted me, babe,” she shoots back,
whipping out her phone.

“What?”

Hey, girl. Remember Luke? He asked me to see if you
wanted to hook up when we play New York next week.

My brain shuts off. Gone. I no longer see color, hear sound.

“No…No way!” I roar, and take a step toward the building.
Holland grabs my arm, and I hate that my instinctive response is to turn my
fury on her. One look in her eyes, however, and the inferno simmers into
something more manageable. I’ve never been tempered before. Never. But here we
are.
Inexplicably under control.

“Luke, what is going on?” Holland asks, searching my eyes.
She should be screaming at me. Why isn’t she screaming?

“Yeah, Luke, what is going on?” Laurel echoes. “I’ve been
waiting for you forever! You finally reach out and then I can’t even get past
security after the show to say hello? I had to slip them just to find you now!”

“Waiting for me?” I scoff, returning to the horror show. “What
the hell were you waiting for?” I know I’m gutting her but I don’t care. I need
to go gut someone else right now. This is on him.

“I’m so confused! Luke, talk to me! Did you not tell Wes you
wanted to see me?”

“Wes? What does Wes have to do with this?”

I hear Holland’s horrified question, but there are too many
horrifying interrogations going on at the moment.

I stay focused on Laurel, incredulous. “Of course I didn’t
tell him that! That was the worst night of my life! The biggest mistake of my
life! I can’t even think about that night without getting sick, so, no, Laurel,
I did not want to ‘hook up when we played New York!’”

Tears spring to her eyes as she absorbs my callous outburst but
there are no politics left in me, no civility. The void is saturated with
something else now, dripping with revulsion transformed into rage.

Laurel shakes her head. “No! Wes wouldn’t do that to me.”

“He didn’t,” I spit. “He’s doing it to me.”

“What?”

I force air into my lungs. I need this woman to remove
herself from my life, preferably without a method that lands me in jail.

“Laurel, please. Please.” I’m pleading now, searching her
eyes, begging her to understand that she’s collateral damage on two fronts. I
can’t call her a victim, though. There is no victim in this, just the one, and
she’s dead.

I don’t even look at Laurel’s face as she finally releases a
frustrated curse.

“This is bullshit, Luke!” she cries, nearly matching my own disgust.
“
You
are bullshit, you know that?”

I don’t respond, there’s no relationship to save, and turn to
confront the one I can’t bear to lose.

“Holland, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with her
showing up here! Please believe me. Please!” It’s amazing how quickly my fire
has melted into desperation.

But she doesn’t offer much as she studies me, evaluates.
“Luke, what’s going on? Why was she here? What was on her phone?”

I rip my gaze away, but
my response is
silenced by Wes making his way toward us with Spence
. Their paths are
about to intersect with a retreating Laurel, and every fiber of my being longs
for her to smack him. It’ll be a good warm up for what I’m about to do.