3. Pepper
THREE
PEPPER
Bodies pressed against mine as people danced, voices muted by the music that thrummed so loud it reverberated in my bones. I searched for Tommy, my stomach twisting with nerves at being in a crowd. Venues like this used to appeal to me, but now I was so completely out of place, I just wanted to evaporate into thin air.
It had been too long since I’d gone out into the world on a Friday night. My skin prickled as I felt eyes on me, on the short black dress and heels I wore.
The entire outfit practically screamed that I was fun, right?
Then again, maybe I was overdressed. And that maybe made me not fun? Who the fuck was I even dressing for, aside from myself? It wasn’t like I was going to meet someone, even though Tommy would have loved to see that happen.
Beaumont’s was a well-known live music venue I used to frequent a few times a week back in the day. Back then, it hadn’t been more than a seedy dive bar, but over the years it had grown into something more chic and high end. They still had the old neon beer signs on the wall behind the counter, dim blue lights, and the random dollar bills pinned to the ceiling, though.
While I had a special place in my heart for Beaumont’s, it wasn’t my scene anymore. It hadn’t been for over a decade. Now I listened to music in my office, and it was through the lens of—could this make us money? Could Rosethorn benefit from having an artist like this on our roster?
“ Pepper! ”
Dan’s voice boomed across the bar and I turned, spotting him standing at a small round table in a roped-off area with a good view of the stage. I waved and wove my way over to him. One of Beaumont’s bouncers opened the rope for me and I stepped into the section.
“Since when does Beaumont’s have a VIP area?” I asked.
“Since I graced them with my presence,” Dan teased.
I grinned and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Hey, handsome.”
Silver glitter shimmered beneath the blue lights on his dark brown skin, his simple black T-shirt showing off broad shoulders and abundance of corded muscles. I’d known Tommy for over a decade, and I cared deeply for him—but Dan was my favorite. He was everything good in the world, and had a deep love for music that gave him the ability to make magic in the studio.
He also knew when I was struggling with just one look at me. He was far too intuitive for his own good. And just like that, he narrowed his gaze on me. “What’s going on with you? You can’t even come over for dinner because you’re so busy ? You never text. You never call. I’m sick of it.”
I wrinkled my nose at him as he shoved a beer into my hands. “Well, any time you invite me over, Jeff is also usually invited, so…”
Dan shook his head. “We don’t invite him over anymore.”
“Really?” I scowled in surprise. When Jeff and I divorced, most of our friends gravitated towards him. Only Tommy and Dan kept up with me, but last I heard, they still grabbed the occasional lunch with him. “Since when?”
He made a face. “Mm, no. Not getting involved with any of that. You better talk to my husband.”
Damn it, Tommy. What aren’t you telling me? “Speaking of, where is he?” I asked, glancing around us.
“Getting us real drinks and stools so our feet don’t ache. I’m too old to be standing here until three a.m.”
I relaxed a fraction. “Thank god. I’d be leaving early if that were the case.”
“So would I. But, I want to hear this guy. Tommy has been thirsting over his videos online. He has a little crush, I think. Which is good. Keeps things spicy after nine years.”
I took a sip of my beer and shifted to be across the table from Dan. There were other standing tables too, each crowded with people clinking glasses and chatting. This area had more breathing room than the rest of the bar, which was completely packed. I looked up at the stage and spotted a single electric guitar waiting for the next set. “Well, we’ll see what happens. He dragged me here for this too, so he must think this guy is someone special. Found him on Instagram or something.”
“Oh, yeah. Hasn’t shut up since. The comments are all either women or Tommy lusting over the guy.”
Ha. “Hope it’s a burner account. Also, I’m sorry I’ve been…”
“MIA?” he asked flatly.
“A bad friend.” There , that was progress, right? Showing my feelings. Admitting I’d been staying away from anyone and everyone who reminded me of the absolute humiliation Jeff had caused.
Dan sighed and took a long sip of his beer. “Maybe a little bit. I can’t blame you for putting your head down and just working for a while. Honestly, I hate Jeff. I never liked him. I told you that years ago when we first met, but you and Tommy didn’t listen to me.”
I remembered that. All the times he’d made a passing criticism of Jeff that I’d laughed off when I shouldn’t have. “I wish I would have listened to you.”
“Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty. But it’s been two years?—”
“A year and a half,” I corrected. A long eighteen months. “He cheated on me and got the intern pregnant before our divorce, remember? And they kept it a secret. And I found out after everyone else knew.”
Now it was his turn to wrinkle his nose. “I genuinely thought you knew.”
“You thought I knew? And was just fine with it?” I hissed. “Really, Dan?”
He threw up his hands. “I don’t know what your kink is, honey. Cuckolding is a thing.”
“Oh my god .” Irritation bubbled up as I clunked my beer on the table.
“Let’s forget about the bastard for tonight. Oh, look who it is, just in time,” Dan said lightly as Tommy approached us.
He’d been victorious. A couple of waitresses helped him bring over three cracked red leather barstools and three dirty martinis. Within a few minutes, the three of us were situated around the tiny table, chatting about anything but work. Dan showed me pictures of the new fur baby they’d just adopted, an older gray cat with a forever-grumpy expression on his cute little face. They’d named him Prince Albert.
“Why Prince Albert?” I asked as I popped an olive in my mouth.
Dan choked on his martini and Tommy burst out laughing. “Well, you know.”
I stared at them blankly.
Tommy put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “I forget how innocent you are. Prudish Pepper is alive and well. ”
“I’m not innocent,” I protested.
“A Prince Albert is a type of cock piercing,” Dan said, giving his husband an all too knowing look.
“ Oh .” My cheeks flamed and the two of them burst into laughter again. I couldn’t help but join them. “Why would you—why would you name your cat after a… piercing ?”
“A cock piercing?” Dan teased.
“Oh my god!” I exclaimed, bursting into a fit of giggles. I’d seen porn with men who had piercings before, but I didn’t know they had names. I didn’t say that though, already wanting to sink into the beer-stained floor.
We had tears in our eyes. Tommy threw his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “Just like old times, remember? You’re still fun. You’re a vibrant star waiting to be snatched up by one lucky wisher.”
“I’m gonna feel like absolute shit in the morning,” I said. “And wake up alone, and childless, and…”
“Rich,” Dan finished. “Talented. Smart. Powerful. And much better off without Jeff . Fuck that guy.”
“Damn,” I said.
He was right, though. It felt good to be out on a Friday night, despite my reservations. I released a long breath, more tension melting away. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the people—but I felt better than I had in a long time.
A ripple of energy rolled through the crowd as a shadow emerged on stage. The music playing overhead faded as a man walked up to the guitar, tall and muscled and commanding attention in a way that made my heart skip a beat.
I wasn’t the only one enchanted. The hush that followed as he picked up the guitar was soon replaced by cheers and a few whistles.
Tommy turned to look at me and smiled. “I’m gonna be saying I told you so when we’re rolling in more money.”
“Let’s hear him first,” I said.
Dan winked and then we refocused on him .
“Where’s his band? I thought you said there was a band,” I asked.
“Shush,” Tommy hissed.
The man wore black jeans with leather boots, a studded belt, and a black leather mask. It covered the lower half of his face, with space for part of his mouth to still be seen. Enough space to not fuck with the mic while singing.
Then tension curling through Beaumont’s was unreal. Even as jaded as I was, I could see what Tommy was talking about. His presence was ethereal. It was devilish. It was very much out of place in a city like Nashville, where everyone sang country music, Americana, and bluegrass.
“It’s just him and a guitar,” I said to Tommy. “And a bar full of people who want to party. This is silly.”
“They don’t want to party, Pepper. They want to kiss that guy’s boot. Be patient,” he said without looking back.
“Good evening, everyone.” His voice was deep, an orgasmic ripple of excitement rolling through me. It was familiar, too. What is wrong with me? “Thank you to Beaumont’s for having me tonight. My name is Salt.”
A few shouts and hollers echoed through the venue.
His nimble fingers moved over the strings as he started playing his guitar riff, and despite not wanting to look away, I closed my eyes. Because humans were chameleons. Anyone could be masked and buff and primed and primped, but not just anyone could create music that moved .
His music moved.
It was an original song, which was typically a terrible way to open a set on a Friday night. Especially without a band. It shouldn’t have worked. Everyone at the bar should have shifted attention back to their conversations, but that didn’t happen. Like an incubus, he sucked up the energy of the room, funneling it into blues-inspired hooks.
And then he opened his mouth again.
His voice reverberated through the room. I swear I know his voice. I couldn’t place it. I didn’t have a spare thought to even consider where I’d heard it before, completely consumed with the sound of him. He knew how to play and was clearly talented, but it wasn’t as smooth as some of the seasoned musicians I was used to hearing. But that edge worked in his favor.
The music was sexual, thirsty, hungry for touch. For something deep and carnal and dirty. The lyrics were full of pain. He was drowning, dying, begging to be rescued. By me. By the listener. He was begging to be saved. To be seen.
I knew that feeling all too well.
My eyes snapped open, and even from across the room, I swore he was looking right at me.
Tommy stiffened and then glanced back, raising a brow. I fucking told you, he mouthed.
I ignored Tommy and swallowed hard, my gaze locked on Salt. Was he looking at me? He wasn’t. It had to be a trick of the light.
Every nerve in my body was alive. Yearning.
A bass note dropped and I realized there was a band. They’d come on stage some time during the first verse.
The beat dropped for the chorus, followed by shouts and whistles, people grinding together. Heat crept through me as I watched the floor come alive—a cult of Dionysus, and he was our god. His performance was good alone, but with the rest of the band, it created something irresistible.
“God damn ,” Dan said. “Baby, I want to dance.”
Tommy nodded and held out his hand. “We’ll be back, Pepper.”
“I’ll be here.” With his music.
Tommy tugged Dan close, the two of them getting lost in a kiss before slipping out of the VIP area and onto the dance floor. I watched them for a moment, then turned my focus back to him.
Salt.
What kind of a name was Salt?
Ironic, coming from me. Regardless, every part of me knew exactly what I wanted.
I want his music to be mine.