4. Salt
FOUR
SALT
I saw her.
From the stage, behind the throng of strangers grinding and swaying and cheering.
It was her. Finally looking at me.
I knew it was her because I hadn’t been able to purge that woman from my mind over the last twenty-four hours.
Singing to strangers never made me nervous. But now, I was singing straight to her. My voice crooned, my callused fingers gliding over my guitar with ease born from years of practice. My gaze never left her. I couldn’t look away.
Her eyes never left mine, either. My heart stuttered in my chest, the song possessing me as I gave it everything I had.
I came to the end, using my pedal to suspend the final chord. I glanced over at Jack and he nodded, hitting a bass note that rolled smoothly into the next song, one everyone knew. Claps and cheers and whistles filled the venue, but I tuned it out, focusing on my guitar. On my voice. On the song.
Music was burned into the cells of my toxic, cursed blood. The buzz of it hummed through me as I sang. It was an addiction burning through me, ruining me and everyone who heard it.
But I had a corruption kink. And this was where I felt most at home—turning a crowd of strangers into heathens and feeding off the energy like it was my lifeline. I liked their attention. I liked imagining that one day, we’d play a massive, sold-out venue. That I’d sing about fucking the person of my dreams and the entire world would be listening.
The rest of the set flew by. By the time it ended, my body was drenched in sweat from the stage lights. I thanked the crowd and unplugged my guitar.
Jack clapped my shoulder. “That was great, man,” he called.
“You did great.” I smiled at him, Tyler, and Eric.
A couple of screams startled us and I started to turn back, but Jack gave me a shove. “Get off stage man, they’re feral for you.”
I glanced back and realized I was being filmed by a few women in the front. Their boyfriends glowered at me, and I winked at them before heading off stage.
I needed water and food, especially since I never ate before a show. Even though I loved it, I sometimes felt sick from nerves.
Adam, the booking manager at Beaumont’s, waited in the back. I ducked my head to avoid the doorframe and took the three short steps down into the pit. The band playing after me was made up of three guys and a woman dressed in cowgirl boots and a glittery dress.
“That was hot,” she said as she passed by, her gaze sweeping over me. “You busy after the show?”
I smirked. Normally I’d say no, but I wasn’t interested in anyone but the coffee shop woman. “Yeah, I’m busy,” I said.
“Your loss.”
I watched her step on stage, offering nods to the band as they followed her out to set up.
Adam held out his hand as I walked up to him. “That was great, man.”
“Thanks,” I said. I shook his hand and reached for my guitar case, quickly packing away my prized possession. I was eager to leave now. “As always, loved playing here.”
Adam nodded as I rose back up, standing my guitar case on end and leaning against it.
He raised both brows. “You got people watching you. The kind of people who change lives. I think you’re going places, Salt. I’m glad you got a fucking band. They’re doing good.”
I was paying them well, so I hoped so. “Good. Thanks for that suggestion. Bigger venues are starting to reach out.”
“I bet. Always remember Beaumont’s though,” he chuckled. “Where you got your big break.”
“I haven’t broken anything yet.”
Adam laughed, and then winced when mic feedback reverberated through the venue. We both leaned back to glance at the stage.
“Dammit,” he muttered.
I smiled. “That’s why I liked playing alone. Now, I have to worry about that shit too.”
He rolled his eyes and then clapped my shoulder. “Good problems. I’ll see you next Friday. Now, go say hi to Daniel Park and his husband, Tommy. I also spotted the Rosethorn CEO, although I can’t remember her name to save my life. Something weird. They were all in the VIP area.”
“I’ve met Tommy,” I said.
He was a nice guy and I knew he was big in the industry. He’d been on me to set up a meeting with his record label, but I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted. That felt like such a large step, and I’d only been playing with my band for a couple months now.
“I gotta go,” Adam sighed as another mic screech split our ears. “They’re having sound problems. I’ll pay you out when the bar closes, you made a shit ton of tips and drink sales for us. It’ll be a good one.”
“Thanks man, have a good night.” I watched as he darted up the steps. Jack, Eric, and Tyler emerged and joined me. “You did great,” I said. “He’ll pay me out once the show is over, and I’ll pay you guys too. You don’t need to hang around if you want to pack up.” I needed them out of my hair so I could find the dream girl.
“Thanks,” Eric said. “That was a solid set.”
“You were a little laggy,” Jack quipped.
Eric glowered. “I couldn’t hear you for a minute there.”
“We all settled into it,” Tyler said, giving me a tired smile. He was a large, bearish man who radiated kindness. “Shoot me a text when you know the next practice time.”
I nodded, and the three of them split to gather their instruments and pack up. I rolled my shoulders and wove through what was basically a storage room—cluttered with chairs, tables, and random equipment.
Once I stepped into the dark hallway, I paused and leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. It was the only semi-quiet spot in Beaumont’s—a kind of purgatory, tucked between the stage and the rest of the bar, where no one usually wandered.
Movement in the corner of my eye had my head snapping up.
It’s her.
My body was moving before my thoughts had time to catch up. Her back was to me, heels giving her a little more height than when I saw her the first time. She stood at the end of the hall, one shoulder leaning against the grungy brick, her attention fixed elsewhere.
I slowed as I came up behind her. My fingertips grazed her arm and she stiffened. I lowered my voice. “Are you stalking me?”
“I knew it was you,” she said. “I should ask you the same.”
The neon lights glowed midnight blue, casting an iridescent sheen on the silver strands that framed the side of her face. She still continued to look away from me, but I couldn’t help myself. I stepped closer, the tension between us unbearable. From here, I could see the dance floor, but the energy wasn’t the same as it’d been earlier.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Are you going to look at me?” I whispered. I just wanted to see her face up close. “I know you were watching me across the bar. I saw you.”
“Everyone was watching you,” she said. “I recognized your voice. I was listening to you sing, and then you said something that made it click. That’s the guy from Adagio. It took a minute, but your voice is not an easy one to forget.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. The way she said it was beyond cold. Clinical, almost.
I closed the distance between us. It was a risk. It was stupid, it was wrong, but something pulled me closer. She was a magnet.
“I should yell for someone,” she said.
“Do it,” I urged. “Or you could scream out my name.”
She cursed under her breath, her head turning slightly. I drank in the curves of her cheeks, her cute nose, the softness of her red lips. Smoky shadow darkened her eyes, her lashes long. “I don’t know your real name.”
I was breaking all the rules. I didn’t just grab people, I didn’t cage women against walls in small bar hallways. It was fucking predatory. It was wrong, and yet?—
“Do you want to know it?” I asked, planting my hand on the wall next to her face.
She pushed back against me with her ass. My eyes shuttered closed and I thought about hiking up her skirt and fucking her right here and now.
Both of us froze.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” she whispered.
“Whatever it is, it’s wrong with me too.”
Her breath slipped out in a frustrated huff. “Do you just go around calling strangers a good girl?”
“Not typically,” I admitted.
“Tell me your name.”
“Ask me nicely.”
“ Tell me your name.” Her tone was nicer, but it still wasn’t a question.
Her disobedience stoked the fires of dominance within me. Despite my best judgement, I shoved her against the wall, my cock now fully hard and nestling between her perfect ass cheeks. God , this dress. I wanted to rip it off. “I told you to fucking ask me. You don’t take directions well, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“Pepper? Where’d you go?”
A familiar voice echoed close by and I stepped away, turning to adjust my raging cock so it wouldn’t be blatantly obvious. I spun right as Tommy rounded the corner, the guy who had been headhunting me from the label. He was like a bloodhound.
Tommy grinned when he saw us. “Oh, hey. You guys met.”
“He was just about to introduce himself officially,” Pepper said.
She changed her demeanor so quickly, like flipping a switch. Her cheeks were flushed red, but her gaze was ice. Completely different from the woman I’d just been grinding my cock against.
“Oh. Okay, well. This is Simon. Otherwise, known as?—”
“Salt,” I said, holding out my hand. “You can call me Salt. Nice to meet you, Pepper .”
The corner of her mouth tugged as she held out her hand. I shook it, noting the way her gaze dropped to the tattoos winding up my arm. My right hand had a flower with an eye at the center, more blooms climbing upward. I liked flowers—my favorite tattoo artist did too—so we’d gotten a little carried away with the ink.
I didn’t like the way she looked at them, though. Her gaze moved back to my face. To my mask. “Do you always wear that?” she asked.
I smiled and reached up, unclasping it and pulling it away. Her eyes widened slightly.
“See,” Tommy said excitedly. “I told you, Pepper. I fucking told you.”
“You did,” she said, sounding unimpressed.
“Pepper is the CEO of Rosethorn Records.”
Oh. Oh shit.
Welp, there went any sort of career I might have had with that label.
I’d just been grinding my cock against the woman who could have been my boss.
But also, of course she was a suit. Of course the stranger who had stained my existence for the last twenty-four hours was someone I shouldn’t want.
She had that look about her, too. Like she was the boss, used to being the one in control.
Except when she was between a wall and my body.
Pepper offered a dry smile. “Tommy is right, that is who I am.”
Rosethorn. I’d heard about Rosethorn. It was one of the most coveted labels in the industry. It was small but powerful, having represented some of the largest artists who had hit the scene in the last decade.
“Didn’t Rosethorn start with your husband?” I asked casually.
Her smile turned sharp, her eyes narrowing. Tommy interjected before she could speak.
“It actually started with the three of us,” he said. “Jeff is her ex-husband.”
Pepper threw up her hands. “Do we now lay out my personal life for everyone, Tommy?”
He winced. “I was just?—”
“It was rude of me to ask,” I said quickly, trying to smooth things over just enough to keep Tommy out of trouble. “I was just curious. I’ve heard about Rosethorn.”
“Everyone has,” she said sweetly.
I had to fight a laugh. She was not happy with me. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Pepper.”
“I’m glad you two met in a more casual environment. Pepper is known to be a little scary in the office,” Tommy laughed nervously.
Her expression turned unreadable and I frowned. I didn’t like the walls that went up.
Tommy didn’t seem to notice. And if he did, he acted like he didn’t. “Come on, Dan is getting us more drinks. I’ll buy us all a round.”
Pepper shook her head. “I’m done for the night, Tommy.”
“What? You just got here,” he complained. “You’ve only been here for an hour. There’s so much more you could get into tonight. Like, you know, have some fun with someone…”
“I heard the one you wanted me to hear,” she said tightly. “That’s all I came for.”
The one he wanted her to hear. Like I was a product. Like I hadn’t wrapped her in my words, in my music, pulling her across the room, down the hall, into my nasty, obsessive grip.
“Come on,” Tommy pleaded. “When was the last time you stayed out late? It's been too long since you've just enjoyed music the way you used to. Come have a drink and sit with us.”
Pepper gave him a harsh look that would have withered the balls on any other man alive. I could see why she was the boss.
But, I couldn’t help wondering why it had been so long since she had enjoyed music. Why hadn’t she been out in so long? The ease between her and Tommy felt like more than just coworkers—they were friends. Even if he was clearly trying to push her to do something she wasn’t going to do.
I couldn’t believe coffee girl was the fucking CEO of Rosethorn Records.
I was unlucky. Truly.
“I don't want to impose,” I said. “Besides, I don’t drink.”
“Nonsense,” Tommy said easily. “You don’t want a beer or something?”
“I don’t drink,” I said again firmly. “But if there’s food involved, I’m open.”
He nodded eagerly, giving Pepper a pleading look. “Come on, Pep. We can always go to a restaurant and grab some dinner. Get to know Mr. Salt. He’s hungry.”
I was hungry.
I was hungry for her. I was hungry for whatever just happened, whatever was happening.
I wasn’t sure I’d make it through an entire dinner with her though. Not while wondering about the part of her that had pushed her ass against me.
Pepper shook her head. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk on Monday, Tommy. I don’t want to go to dinner.”
“I can walk you to your car,” I offered.
“I only live a few blocks from here,” she said. “I’ll walk.”
Tommy shook his head. “You can't just walk home. Don’t make me go get Dan.”
That made her laugh, her expression loosening for a split second. She bumped Tommy’s shoulder with her own, and both of them seemed to relax significantly.
“I do it all the time and I'm fine,” she insisted.
He grabbed hold of her face with a familiarity that made an ugly emotion rear its head. Jealousy? From the sounds of it, Tommy was happily married to Dan. And yet… Fuck. Yeah, that’s what it was. Jealousy. Over someone I didn’t even know. I had absolutely no right to feel jealous.
“You’re killing me,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want to get dinner?”
Her laughter rang over the terrible crowing of the band on stage. “I’m sure. We’ll do this again though.”
He sighed dramatically and gave me a determined look. “Walk her home. Get her contact information. We’ll set up a meeting next week.”
Pepper slapped his chest. “You can’t just do that.”
“I can,” he said.
“I don’t mind,” I said. “I could stretch my legs.”
“He’s hungry,” she argued like I wasn’t there.
“I am,” I said, staring directly at her. “But I’ll eat after I walk you home.”
Her cheeks reddened.
Tommy grinned, clearly feeling victorious. “Wonderful. In that case, I’m going to leave business to you, my dearly beloved boss.”
“Tommy, my darling, fuck off ,” she seethed.
His grin didn’t falter. He held out his hand and I shook it. “See you next week, Salt. I’m gonna go play with my husband.”
“Have fun,” I chuckled.
He left us alone in the hall. The moment he was out of earshot, Pepper huffed, shooting me a dark glare. “You don’t need to walk me home.”
“You have all the money in the world,” I said. “Why won’t you just take an Uber?”
“Because I like the walk.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said, I don’t need an escort. I’m almost forty, for god’s sake.”
My brows shot up. She didn’t look like she was almost forty. And really, I didn’t care if she was.
If anything, it only made me want to fuck her more.
“How old are you actually?”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “Thirty-seven.”
I rolled my eyes at her, and she scoffed.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Her glare intensified. “What are you, twenty?”
“Twenty-five.” I enjoyed the way her expression twisted with shock.
“You don’t look twenty-five,” she muttered.
“Well, look at us. Two peas in a pod already,” I said easily. “And I don’t really care if you don’t want me to, I will be walking you home.”
Her pretty lips pulled into a thin line. “Fine.”
“Good girl.”
Her mouth dropped, and I expected her to slap me. Instead, she shook her head, her eyes full of fire as she turned on her heels and stormed down the hallway.
I grabbed my guitar case and followed after her.
It felt like a lamb being led to slaughter, but I wasn’t sure who held the knife. Was it her? Was it me? It was probably bad for any sort of PR, but I ignored anyone who tried to stop me to talk, anyone who tried to intercept. My attention belonged to her. We wove through the crowd until she made it out the door and into the cool city night.
She turned around, and I watched it dawn on her that I hadn’t let her escape. Annoyance flickered over her pretty face. “You don’t need to do this.”
“I want to,” I said.
“Maybe I don’t want you to see where I live.”
“Maybe I want to come home with you.”
I was pushing it. I knew I was, but I wanted her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to be with someone like this, and I’d already ruined any chance of being signed by humping her in the hallway.
So.
Might as well go for it, right?
Pepper sucked in a breath, clearly thrown off. “I don’t… I don’t do that. With strangers. Especially not strangers twelve years younger than me.”
“I’m hardly a stranger,” I quipped. “I’ve called you a good girl twice.”
People on the sidewalks moved around us, but I still took a step closer. She looked to the side. I could see her thinking. Weighing my words.
“Take me home with you,” I whispered. “I want you. I promise it’ll be good.”
“You just want me for what I could do for you.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
She scoffed, but didn’t push me away. She didn’t back up. Instead, she tipped her head back, looking up at me in a way that made me imagine her on her knees. That’s how she’d look from that angle. Fuck. I needed her.
“You can always change your mind,” I whispered. “At any point. I don’t care at what point.”
I leaned in, my lips pressing against her ear.
“I want you,” I said. “Take me home with you.”
“This is wrong. You’re too young. You’re not my type. God, everyone is staring at you. Go home with one of them.”
She gestured toward whoever was watching us, but I didn’t look up. “I don’t care about them.”
I didn’t. I knew I was being reckless. That was one of my flaws. Once I set my sights on something, I couldn’t let it go. Right now, that was Pepper. The entire world faded away and I was consumed by her black cherry scent and the inch between our bodies. We weren’t touching, but I still felt the burn of her.
“I need to hear you say it,” I said. “I need you to ask me to come home with you.”
“I…”
“I want you. I want to see whatever this is. But, I need to hear the words, Pepper.”
She stood still, clearly weighing the pros and cons.
“I’ll call you a cab,” I said, starting to break away.
“Wait.” She grabbed hold of my jacket, keeping me in place. “Salt. Stop.”
I raised a brow. “Then ask me.”
She stared at me, her posture tensing. She didn’t like being told what to do, and yet I knew she craved the release of it. Of not having to make decisions.
Pepper crossed her arms, giving me a hard stare that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I could see why she was the CEO, why she ran her own company, and why the entire world moved around her like she was a boulder lodged in a stream. “Come home with me.”
Hah. “I said ask me.”
Frustration flashed, hazel eyes burning holes into me. “ Salt , will you come home with me?”
I smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Pepper scoffed as I reached for her hand. She shook her head and pulled away before we touched, glancing around us.
I may have thought she was paranoid, but people were watching us. I glanced around too, but I didn’t recognize anyone. And I knew Tommy was still inside the bar dancing the night away with his husband.
Pepper exhaled sharply. “People know who I am. I don’t want any rumors starting about me going home with someone half my age.”
“Half your age is a pretty big leap.” A really big leap, actually. “Besides, we’re two consenting adults. Age is just a number.”
She didn’t say anything else as she started down the street. It didn’t take much to keep up with her, though. Between my long legs and the fact that she was in heels, we settled into an easy walk down the block.
Silence wrapped around us, giving me time to think. I sucked in the freezing night air, turning my attention to our surroundings. The blinding lights that flashed at open bars, the countless people going in and out, the echo of music from within. Country, bluegrass, rock, Americana, and even some punk and blues. All blending into an orchestra of comfort that settled deep in my chest.
I knew these streets well. The building where I’d met Nancy years ago was a few blocks over. It used to be a club, but it was now closed down, and for good reason. I craned my head back as we passed a high-rise, the bars spacing out as we made our way to a part of the city I didn’t belong in.
The part where she lived.
I studied her without shame this time. The silver strands that framed her face were tucked behind her ears, her expression cool and unyielding.
There was something about her. The twelve years between us didn’t matter to me. It might to a lot of people, but not to me. If anything, it only made me wonder why someone else wasn’t with her.
Who was Pepper? Who was the woman that moved through life like a shark, but was otherwise in desperate need of a net?
She glanced up at me, dark brows furrowing before focusing her gaze back on the sidewalk.
“Stop staring,” she snapped.
“Never. I think you’re beautiful.”
“I bet you say that to everyone who throws themself at you.” She didn’t like being told no. “You’re just a flirt.”
Well, I was a flirt. “I am flirting, but you’re also beautiful. Both can be true.”
A long sigh. “Maybe I’ll change my mind. I shouldn’t do this.”
“That’s fine,” I said nonchalantly, but decided to add, “I wouldn’t be mad if you did. Because I’m not going to fuck you unless you’re begging me to, Pepper.”