Chapter 13
IAIN
Thank fuck for rehearsal.
It wasn’t as energizing as a live performance, but I still got excited whenever we hit a stage. It helped me get out of my head. Which was kind of funny since most people didn’t use work as a distraction; they needed distraction from work.
Then again, was this really working? It never felt that way to me. Yeah, we played hard, and there were late nights and travel, but my career was my passion, one and the same. Take away the money, and I’d still be playing.
But, upon entering the venue, we noticed right away that our instruments and the general state of the theatre were chaotic. Two of my guitars were still in their cases, which meant they hadn’t been tuned yet, which was surprising. Everything should’ve been ready to go by the time we got here.
Ace and Tommy were bickering back and forth as they worked on Faise’s drum set.
I picked up my favorite Konicki, the only guitar that had been set up, and strummed a few chords. It sounded good.
“Hey Ace, what’s happening?” Brodie asked.
“Sorry for the delay, guys, but Faise’s drum kit was damaged in transit. We’ve spent the better part of the day fixing it, and I had to source a new kickstand. I texted Harlow. Didn’t he tell you?”
I glanced at Brodie, and he just shook his head. “Nope. And from here on out, text us directly. We’re having a bit of a communication problem with him.”
“You got it.”
“My babies,” Faise exclaimed as he stepped up behind the kit.
“It’s all fixed,” Tommy reassured him with a nod. “Let’s test it out.”
“Check the rest of Iain’s guitars and then the mics,” Ace directed.
The guys and I reviewed the set list and decided which songs we wanted to practice.
Once our instruments were tuned and ready to go, so were we.
Then I noticed Dawson and Regan talking in the wings. It looked like something big was going on until Regan nodded and made for the exit.
“Holls, are you playing or what?” Ronin yelled out.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Stop staring at your hot as fuck bodyguard and start strumming,” Brodie teased.
“Shut up.”
Brodie chuckled. “I’m surprised you invited him to our meeting with Harlow. I thought you wanted to get away from Dawson?”
I held the neck of my guitar in one hand and gave him the middle finger with the other.
“No thanks, I prefer Van’s fingers,” Brodie quipped.
Instead of replying, I started playing the intro chord to Filthy Pain.
I closed my eyes and forgot all about that meeting, the interview last night, and the past month.
When I finally opened them, there was Dawson on center stage, staring at me.
Same as always, except the look he was giving me now was less hard-ass and more “I want your ass.” Or maybe that was my wishful thinking?
So, I did what I usually did when faced with something I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I ignored it and stuck my tongue out.
He rolled his eyes at me, and just like that, we were back to normal again.
I was glad we weren’t fighting, but that didn’t mean everything was fine. I wasn’t comfortable with this growing awareness between us. As much as Dawson turned me on, there were less complicated men I could screw.
Ones I didn’t have to deal with the next day.
Guys who didn’t make me feel anything more than simple lust.
Three hours later, we were done with rehearsal. We ventured back to our hotel to change and head out for the night.
There were a few messages from Harlow about a promo photo shoot tomorrow but no further interviews until concert day.
Good.
All I needed tonight was a sexy man to get rid of any lingering tension.
Part of me wondered what kind of reaction Dawson would have. Not that I cared, but he was extra protective lately when it came to strangers. And given our adjoining suites, he’d probably be waiting on the other side of the door just in case he needed to break it down and come to my rescue.
I snorted at that thought.
Would he listen the whole time? Would the sounds of me fucking someone else drive him nuts?
And why did I suddenly care? I’d had lots of security witnesses when I was fucking around with a guy. My bandmates went through the same thing. I never thought to question it until now.
I picked out my favorite pair of leather pants, a linen button-down, and my leather jacket. I kept it simple, avoiding any jewelry tonight and leaving my hair in its messy state. I didn’t care about shaving, either.
Once I finished getting ready, I texted Dawson and waited by the door.
When he opened it, I was surprised to see him dressed in slim black trousers and a matching button-down with the sleeves rolled up. Those taut, veiny forearms of his were the stuff of my dirtiest dreams.
“Are you done staring?” he asked me, a smirk on his face.
“I wasn’t staring. I was just shocked that you own something other than jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Look who’s talking. You wear that leather jacket every single day.”
“It’s soft and fits me perfectly. Why mess with a beautiful thing?”
“Exactly,” Dawson replied and placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me out of the suite.
He was doing that a lot lately, touching me more than usual. But I don’t think he realized it. And there was something about his firm touch, the way he took control, that made me want to lean into him.
Don’t go there.
“You got the NDAs ready?” I asked.
I noticed Dawson’s jaw clench and the way his eyes iced over.
“All set. But I really would prefer twenty-four hours notice to—”
“Come on, Daws,” I interrupted. “I just want to fuck and send the guy on his way. I’m not letting this person into my home, just my hotel room. And you’re next door, so I’m secure. Relax.”
Dawson stalked down the hallway and slapped the elevator button. Hard.
“What crawled up your ass?” I bit out.
“Nothing.”
“If I sneak off without telling you, you’re pissed. If I tell you I’m going to bring a guy back here to the hotel, you’re pissed. What the hell do you want from me?!” I shouted.
“Keep your voice down,” Dawson snapped as he stood with his hands on his hips, his posture rigid. “I’m just doing my job.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m as secure as I can get. And in case you haven’t realized by now, I’m an adult. I’ve been on my own since I was a teenager, and despite my celebrity, I can and do take care of myself.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot, you don’t need anyone.” He scoffed.
“Excuse me?”
Dawson didn’t look at me but instead stared at the elevator doors.
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, nothing. That’s why we’re fighting to begin with.” I sighed. “Look, I don’t know how this stupid argument got started, but I’m finishing it. Just have the NDA ready, so I can actually enjoy myself tonight.”
Dawson inhaled sharply and then let out a long exhale. “I’m sorry. I was way out of line.”
I felt my own irritation deflate. “I just don’t understand why you got so angry.”
Dawson finally looked at me, and the intensity of his green gaze had me taking a step forward. He swallowed hard and stepped back.
Wasn’t that always the way with us?
“It doesn’t matter,” Dawson replied in a clipped tone. “You’ve made your intentions clear, and I will do everything to ensure tonight is as seamless as possible.”
The doors opened, and he motioned for me to get in.
I stepped inside and crossed my arms.
Now I really needed a drink and a fuck.
The ride down was silent and awkward. Dawson appeared calm but I noticed how fast his chest moved in and out, like he was out of breath. His face was flushed, and his hands were balled up into fists. I swore I could hear his heart beating as loudly as mine.
I had the insane urge to reach out and touch him and, at the same time, run as far and as fast as I could.
What the hell was going on here?
We finally arrived at the parking garage and headed for the SUV. Will and Quinn were waiting by the cars and waved us over.
Dawson opened the door for me, per usual, and I could tell by his cold glare that there was no more conversation to be had. Fine with me. He wanted to act like an ass; he could go for it. I had a party to enjoy.
I got in beside Brodie and Van. Once I was seated, Dawson slammed the door. With so much force, the SUV rocked.
Brodie elbowed me. “Fuck, what’s wrong with him?”
The front passenger door opened, and Dawson slid in, nodding at Lennie in the driver’s seat.
“Nothing,” I repeated, echoing Dawson’s earlier response. “Nothing is wrong, isn’t that right Daws?”
Dawson nodded but stayed silent.
Smart man.
Brodie and Van exchanged a look, and I sighed. “What?”
“We know who he’s mad at, if not why,” Van whispered. “He’s just trying to look out for your safety.”
“Why do you automatically assume I did something wrong?”
Van and Brodie both started laughing.
I ran a hand over my hair, tugging at the ends. “Dawson and I are never going to see eye to eye because he enjoys telling me what to do, and I don’t like to hear it.”
“I’m sure you’d enjoy taking his orders in the bedroom,” Brodie quipped.
“Jesus Christ,” Dawson grumbled from the front seat, shaking his head.
Thankfully, he didn’t turn around.
“Dee,” I warned, my face hot.
“What? I can tell that Dawson is a total power top.” Brodie cackled. “And you’re a sassy bottom who likes—”
“Enough,” Dawson demanded.
For once, I agreed with him. I slapped my hand over Brodie’s mouth to shut him up.
“Can’t you make him stop?” I asked Van.
Van shook his head. “You know I have no control over what comes out of his mouth.”
Brodie pulled my hand away and grinned. “Yeah, only what goes in it.”
Everyone in the car groaned.
Brodie leaned into me and whispered. “You’re welcome.”
I rubbed my middle finger against my nose and glared at him. “For what?”
Brodie just shook his head and laughed.