Chapter 3
brODIE
ONE YEAR AGO
Iwas waiting for Van to arrive at the national music awards show.
Me and the guys had already settled into the bar at the venue and were tossing back shots. But a half hour passed, and still no sign of Van, and my restlessness took hold.
I texted him, and all I got was the usual “I’ll be there soon” reply.
Something was wrong. He’d been quiet for the past month.
Not that I could blame him. His dad passed six weeks ago, and he was still reeling from the grief of that loss. He’d taken two weeks off, and then he was back at work, claiming he was fine.
I didn’t buy it for a second.
I couldn’t imagine losing both parents in the span of a few years. But even though I suggested he take more time off, he outright refused.
Me and the guys did what we could for him. We knocked off our antics in favor of laying low and giving Van a break. I called him more often, too, to check in and see if he was okay.
But it wasn’t just grief that brought about a change in him.
Something else was going on.
On the one hand, when he was around, his hugs were longer, tighter, and he looked at me with an intensity I’d never seen before. When we did have a disagreement, our fights were even more passionate than usual.
On the other, he was avoiding me. If he didn’t need to be on-site, he’d text or call. And I didn’t know what to make of his strange behavior.
This shift between us.
My hunger for him hadn’t changed. If anything, the desire I felt grew deeper, stronger.
And other men weren’t doing it for me anymore.
I had no interest in anyone else. I finally admitted to myself that this wasn’t just about sex.
My feelings for Van were…well, I’d never felt this way before about anyone.
I was obsessed.
I just wanted to be near him. All the fucking time.
I was about to text him again, but he was suddenly standing before me.
But he wasn’t alone.
A beautiful brunette woman stood beside Van, clutching his arm tightly and staring up at him like he was a rock god.
A flare of jealousy ignited, and I held on to my glass so tight it was in danger of breaking.
Who the fuck was this woman?
“Zoe, this is Brodie James, Iain Holloway, Faisel Reed, and Ronin Stadler. Guys, this is Zoe Nord. She’s a new member of our PR team and will be accompanying you tonight.”
I was instantly relieved. She was here to work and not as Van’s date.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested. Or that Van wasn’t.
He never mentioned a special person in his life or that he even had a life outside of work, but it wouldn’t stay that way forever.
Zoe whispered something, and Van laughed in reaction, and that right there set me off again.
I was the one who made him laugh. Me. And I fucking wanted him to be mine.
Fuck, that revelation had me waving down the bartender for another shot.
I glanced at Zoe. She still hadn’t let go of Van. Until she turned her head and looked at me, then startled.
Van’s phone rang, and he slipped away.
“Is something wrong?” she asked me.
“Leave Van alone,” I spat out as I glared at her. “He’s going through a lot right now.”
“He’s a work colleague, nothing more. And I resent your implication.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You leave Van be. We clear?”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Trust me when I say I have absolutely no interest in Van that way.”
“Really?”
“For starters, my girlfriend would be very upset.”
Oh.
And just like that, my temper slowed to a simmer.
“Well, good. I’m glad you cleared that up.”
“You certainly did.” She smirked at me. “Does he know?”
I ignored her, grabbed another shot, and tossed it back.
“I’m looking out for him. Any friend would do the same.”
Zoe looked at me with one raised eyebrow, and I knew right then she’d be good at her job. This woman would never fall for any of my bullshit.
Van reappeared at the entrance to the bar and motioned for me to join him. I walked over, and he pulled me aside.
“What’s up?” I asked calmly.
Inside, I was a frustrated mess.
“Be nice to Zoe,” Van warned. “We want her to stay longer than a month.”
“I’m always fucking nice.”
Van cocked his head. “I could tell you were arguing with her. You looked pissed, and so did she. What the fuck did you say to her?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” I snarled.
My heart was pounding furiously. Then I looked up, and I saw the hurt in his eyes.
He pulled his hand away.
“I clarified a few things, that’s all,” I mumbled. “You know I hate it when PR people try to put me on a leash.”
“I’ll remind her that you’re not housetrained yet,” Van replied, this time with a smile. “Let’s round up the others and head in to grab our seats.”
“Are you sitting with us?”
“No, I’m with Zoe in the corporate seats.”
“Are you coming to the afterparty?” I asked.
“I’ll make an appearance.”
I ran a hand over my hair. “Can we talk then?”
“Sure, anything urgent?”
“No, it can wait.”
But we never got around to having that conversation.
Wayward Lane won two awards that night. Me and the guys were tossed around from journalist to journalist until finally, hoarse and tired from smiling for photo ops, we hit the afterparty.
By the time we’d arrived, Van was gone.
I took it as a sign. It wasn’t the right time to face what I was feeling.
VAN
I watched from the highest row in the theater as Brodie and the guys accepted their music awards.
I was so goddamn proud. I took pictures and yelled as loud as every fan in the audience around me.
This wasn’t just their achievement. It felt like mine, too. I’d worked with lots of musicians, but working with Wayward Lane, working with Brodie, was something special.
Brodie leaned into the mic. I braced myself for what was about to come out of his mouth.
“We want to thank our amazing fans for their support and also our manager, Ivan Cross. Van is the reason we’re standing here today accepting this award, and I’m sharing this with him. And thanks to everyone else at Bandit Music. Well, except for Greg Haddley, he’s a fucking prick. Thank you!”
Zoe burst out laughing. “He’s a handful.”
I ran a hand over my face and sighed.
“You don’t know the half of it. Just wait.”
“And he’s protective of you.”
A hot flush crept over my cheeks, and thank god for the low lighting.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I murmured in response.
Except, I did.
“He nearly took my head off when he saw me touching your arm earlier.”
I wasn’t blind to how Brodie treated me. Like I belonged to him. But he loved to be the center of attention; that’s all it was.
Even still, the thought of Brodie being jealous sent a shockwave of heat through me. It was happening all too often when I thought about him, when I talked to him, or hell, when I just looked at him from afar.
And for someone who thought of themselves as straight, possibly bi-curious, it was a heady realization.
“Brodie’s possessive of my time, that’s all.”
Was I trying to convince Zoe or myself?
“It’s none of my business,” she replied.
Thankfully, that was the end of that conversation.
When the ceremony was done, Zoe went in search of the guys to manage their interviews.
I headed to the afterparty, but after an hour and several conversations and no sign of Zoe or the band, I decided to leave.
On my way out, I spotted him.
Several VIPs were surrounding Brodie, gazing at him, hanging on his every word.
And it hit me that whatever these feelings were, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t going anywhere.
He was a rockstar. The Brodie James.
Maybe he flirted with me and was possessive of my time, but it didn’t mean anything. It was just his way.
And whatever was going on inside me, I dismissed it. If there was one thing I was good at, it was compartmentalizing.
I shoved my crazy revelation about Brodie aside and locked it away.
I was still raw from my dad’s recent passing and that was enough for me to deal with.
For once, I walked out of the venue and I didn’t look back.
I knew Brodie would be looking for me.
This one time, he’d have to wait.