Finding Emotion (The Last Shot Tavern Series)

Chapter 7

Damon accepted the cup of coffee Malcolm set in front of him, though he didn’t need it.

“Did you sleep at all?” Malcolm asked as he started clearing the used glasses from the night before.

Damon shook his head as he sipped the caffeine. “It’s fine. I’ll conk out at the hotel today.”

Blake continued to snore over at the table where he and Nicholas had nodded off. The two seemed close for being complete opposites, but that made sense given how often Erin and Katie likely threw them together. His sister and Malcolm’s had been best friends since forever.

“He seems solid now,” Damon murmured, turning back to face the bar.

Trenton nodded beside him. “Taking over his father’s businesses suits him. He’s made a lot of strides in improving the companies, especially for the employees. It’s remarkable.”

“Must be.” Damon had never cared anything about business. As long as Erin was happy with Nicholas, that was all that mattered to him.

“How are you holding up, really?” Trenton murmured, his eyes steady despite his refusal of coffee and the amount of gin he’d thrown back the night before. “That’s one topic you’ve avoided. Does that mean things have quieted down or that you don’t want us to ask?”

The heat from the coffee mug sank into the palm of Damon’s hand, making the rest of him feel even colder. “Dwelling on it seems kind of pointless, you know?” He remembered the backlash from the leak at the beginning of the tour. “The press agreed with Jimmy’s take that it’s harmless and I’m whining about nothing.” The memory of the cracked mirror surfaced. “It’s not like the stalker has done anything to actually hurt me.”

“You don’t have to brush it off. Not in front of us.” Trenton’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry none of my contacts found the person.”

“It hasn’t helped that I travel so much.” He’d spoken to a different police department each time, and each time, the gifts had been seen as harmless. Besides, the more people he told, the more likely the press were to get ahold of it again. “The weird thing is that when I do pay someone to watch out, nothing happens. Like the stalker knows.”

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t that mean it’s someone close then? What about your manager? He seemed to laugh it off.”

“Jimmy?” Damon snorted. “He’s been with me from the start. Long before any of this shit. Besides, there’s no way he’d say some romantic shit like ‘Your Match.’” They’d been privy to each other’s conquests over the years, and if Jimmy had some long-term crush, they’d been together too often for Damon not to pick up on it. “No, Jimmy’s solid.”

Malcolm frowned, not ready to let the theory go. “He didn’t seem too happy about your thing with Skylar.”

“I can’t blame him. He’s been vocal about his crush on her the whole tour.” Damon winced as he wondered again if Jimmy had realized what Skylar was up to on the jet. He rubbed his fingers against his forehead. “Besides, that just happened yesterday.” The stalker had left the first present about ten months ago.

“Your tour is over, right?” Trenton asked.

“Yeah, and I kept my destination as wrapped up as I could.” The delayed flight in the airport hadn’t helped.

Trenton nodded. “So maybe you’ll get a reprieve.”

Damon wanted to consider it a possibility but shook his head. “Not likely. With the Skylar crap going viral, I expect the paparazzi to find me soon enough. That’s why I’m staying at a hotel and not with any of you.” He smirked. “That, and not wanting to hear the headboards smacking the walls now that you’re all getting laid regularly.”

Blake groaned from behind them. “Please, like you’re one to talk with all your groupies.” He shuffled over before collapsing onto the stool next to Damon, clutching his head. “Remind me not to try to outdrink Nick again.”

Nicholas sat gingerly on the stool on the other side of Blake. “Please, not so loud. And you were the one that kept pushing drinks on me.”

Blake managed a grin. “Because you’re a hoot when you loosen up.”

“Last night, you mentioned the situation with Skylar was fake,” Trenton said, pulling Damon’s attention back to him. “Does that mean you don’t see any possibility there?”

“Bite your tongue.” Malcolm laughed, though. “It’s bad enough that Blake and I are now brothers by marriage. I don’t need to take on Damon as a brother too.”

“You know you love me.” Blake made a kissing noise.

“You’re ready to propose to Jami?” Damon asked.

“Eventually.” Malcolm shrugged. “When she’s ready. She’s just starting to live life again, and I don’t want to tie her down. But we know we’re it for each other.”

“That’s nice,” Damon said, meaning it. He stared down into his coffee. “Skylar is way out of my league.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Blake smacked his shoulder, which made him wobble on his stool.

Nicholas steadied him with one hand as he frowned. “Isn’t Damon the bigger headliner?” He continued to prop up his head with his other hand. “At least, that’s what Erin told me. I don’t know much about the music industry, but even I was impressed when I saw your rankings in the charts.”

“I do well enough,” Damon said, wanting to leave it at that. Besides, he had meant she was out of his league in another way entirely, but admitting as much to his friends was a rabbit hole he preferred to avoid. Not even they knew he avoided living the rock star lifestyle, especially when it came to sex. He envied them for the happiness they’d found. All he had was his music, though that wasn’t a small thing. He loved making music.

He slipped off his own barstool. “I’d better go crash for a while.”

Trenton also stood. “I’ll drive you.”

Damon accepted, knowing Trenton would be the last one to push at his boundaries. He waved at the others before unlocking the tavern’s front door and squinting against the rising sun.

Skylar fingered her guitar chords as she hummed the new melody. She was a little in love with it, but damn it, the beat still sounded off. Soft somehow. That served her right for using Damon Lynch as inspiration. No wonder it had turned into a pansy-ass song.

That wasn’t fair, she admitted to herself. Her newest creations had sounded different, losing the anger that had pushed her firmly into her grunge label. After the fiasco that had caused her swift exit from her band, it hadn’t been hard to channel the energy her hatred for Jack had given her. Though she wasn’t just angry at Jack. She was a piece of shit too.

Instead of any of those feelings, she kept imagining the other night, when she had sung the chorus to her fan. There had been very little of her normal energy in that moment. She’d be a liar if she said the fan hadn’t touched her heart. Being able to touch the fan’s in return made her feel good. That moment wouldn’t leave her alone.

Her fingers shifted, a new riff following. She didn’t have words for it yet, which was unusual. Normally the words came first, and she forced them onto a melody. This sound had a sad note, like she should be fucking depressed to be living her dream.

Skylar stopped playing and set the guitar aside. The music room at the college had plenty of mirrors. She didn’t mind the way she looked, but was kind of indifferent to it too. Hell, being sexy was more an art form than a feeling. She sold better if she showed some skin and kept the right figure. The people she chose to fuck complimented her often enough.

The thought reminded her of how she’d gotten Damon off on the plane. She’d teased him about his cum tasting like candy, but it had tasted just like any other guy’s. That should have helped her to put him out of mind. Instead her scalp tingled, as if remembering his gentle touch.

Which was stupid. She fucking hated gentle.

She groaned as she slumped over onto the carpeted floor. The soundproofing of the room was better than some of the places she’d practiced in before. She traveled too often to have high expectations, but the local college hadn’t skimped on their music department. She doubted they got much out of it. Her hometown wasn’t out in the sticks, but it also wasn’t a big city. Just a normal place with normal fuckwads living their normal lives. So boring she could die.

She had come close the one time, during the car accident that had changed everything for her family and launched her into the life she truly wanted… until her own stupidity and fucking Jack had almost ruined it.

The anger that finally rose mixed with a strange sense of relief. She dragged her notebook closer, jotting down random words that came to mind. She had to be careful. The label wouldn’t back a song that came too close to outing what they wanted to keep secret.

The words stopped flowing and her pen hovered, crossing through some and circling others. She rewrote the ones circled together in a verse, deciding to flip-flop a couple of the words before she wrote it out yet again. A quick hum, and it wasn’t too bad, but it was still missing something. She dropped the pen, then lay down with her hands cushioning her face like a pillow.

Mandy’s voice came from the doorway, as if she was waiting for just that moment to interrupt. “Why don’t you take a break? I’ve already got your things situated at the hotel.” She held up one of the key cards.

Skylar pushed to her feet. Her body had that floaty feeling that meant sleep might actually come. “Sounds good.”

Mandy helped her collect her things in silence. She had an efficiency that Skylar found soothing. After she had gotten the first four candidates for her manager fired, the label had been close to giving up. The expense to rerecord the few songs she’d finished for the next album with Winter Dust Storm hadn’t helped matters. Skylar had had every intention of sending the newest manager they saddled her with back, too, but Mandy had been difficult to ruffle despite her stick-up-the-ass vibe. They’d been together for the last two years. While Mandy had learned all her quirks, Skylar wasn’t any closer to understanding her manager at all. The woman reminded her a little of how her sister, Jami, had been before she’d lost herself to the hell she wouldn’t give up.

Skylar looked out at the street, wondering if the limo ride would be quick. Maybe they could walk to the college if she had another urge to create. The limo made things bearable, but she still preferred not to be in a vehicle at all.

“Your sister called last night to see how the flight went,” Mandy said. “I told her you should be available this evening.”

Skylar tapped her fingers against her leather pants before digging out her phone. As she suspected, a missed call and a couple of texts showed Jami had tried her first. Her sister had gotten better about checking in with Mandy when she couldn’t reach Skylar.

Skylar had made an effort to call Jami more regularly after she found out what had been going on with her. Survivor’s guilt had twisted something inside her sister. Instead of sticking around to help, Skylar had taken off as soon as she could. She should have felt guilty, but Jami had always seemed to have things together. Hell, no longer taking care of a teenaged Skylar should have helped. Instead, she’d fallen prey to that prick Andrew Raneer.

Skylar had thought her sister was smarter than that. Smarter than her.

She’d never thought her broken, waste-of-space father would live over a decade after the accident. Skylar had done her part to try to convince her sister to put him in a facility, but there was no convincing Jami about what was right. Instead she’d made sure she kept her own problems from being a burden on her sister, downplaying the breakup with Jack as much as she could and ignoring some of the rehab steps. Apologizing to Jami was the last thing her sister needed, not when she had taken everything onto her shoulders already.

No, Skylar didn’t feel any guilt over leaving. She only wished she’d made fucking Drew a eunuch from her own encounter with him as a teenager before their parents passed away. If she’d at least warned her sister, things might have been different for both of them.

“I said, we’re here, Skylar,” Mandy repeated.

Skylar blinked as she stared out the window at the hotel. A group of paparazzi was already snapping pictures of the limo as they rushed forward. Skylar scowled at them. After her stint in rehab, she’d taken quite a few jabs from the paparazzi and had treated them about the same.

“Shit, are they expecting me to arrive with Mr. Sweetface?” Skylar asked.

“Damon Lynch’s fans continue to escalate the story on social media,” Mandy admitted, “but our social media liaison posted the picture I took of you at the studio last night. Your fans are more excited by the new album you’re working on.”

“But my numbers are nothing compared to his.” Skylar sighed, already regretting her spontaneity. “Whatever. Waiting won’t make it better.” She shoved the door open, expecting to be blinded but still irritated when it happened.

“There he is!” someone shouted, and the cameras gave her a moment to breathe as they mobbed a smiling Damon.

Of course he would smile for the cameras in the early hours of the morning. Her eyes narrowed as they took in the fact that he was also wearing the same thing as the night before. So he had booked it off the plane in order to go from her mouth onto some local girl. She should have figured that.

“I ran into his manager here,” Mandy murmured. “We thought you both staying at the same hotel might be the best response for the rumor mill.”

Skylar gritted her teeth as she took in Damon’s more than pleasant demeanor as he signed some autographs for the fans. “The same room would be even better,” she muttered, stalking toward him. She shoved past those in her way until her arms curled around him from behind. “There you are!” she said for the cameras, her lips moving closer to his ear. “Fancy us doing our walks of shame at the same time.”

Her laughter shifted into something real when he turned in surprise with those adorable cheeks of his red like apples.