Chapter 17
Quinn
G rabbing an energy drink from the bar fridge, I chug it so fast the blue liquid disappears down my throat at record speed.
The room they have us set up in behind the stage is so small I can barely think for myself, let alone change out of my sweaty jeans, T-shirt, and boots. I desperately need to take a shower. Sweat is literally dripping off my hair, down my forehead, and into my eyes.
Kael tosses me a towel, and I use it to wipe my face and around the back of my neck.
“Awesome set,” he says, smiling over at me.
“Yeah, we sounded good.”
“I think we’re finally making some ground with the new stuff. I’ve messed up that last riff for weeks now, but I think I actually managed to pull it off tonight. ”
Jaxon bursts out laughing. “I bet that’s not the only thing you’ll pull off tonight.”
Kael shoots him a look. “Fucking hilarious, that’s what you are.” He smacks him in the chest with the back of his hand, before looking over at me again. “What’d you bring to wear tonight?”
“White dress shirt, black tie, and black trousers.”
“Same.” Kael nods, crossing his arms over his bare chest while looking around the minuscule space. “Actually that reminds me, have any of you fuckers sent a dick pic recently? I’m just wondering if I should have included balls, or are we focusing more on the cock itself these days?”
We all stop dead in our tracks.
Jaxon gawks at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Kael stares at Jaxon, genuinely confused. “What?”
Reed presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m not sure how the two are even remotely related, Kael, but I’d suggest maybe not mentioning to Nick that you’ve been sending cock shots as some kind of, what… sexual memento?”
Kael grunts something under his breath that sounds like ‘shut the fuck up’ and then reaches for his suit-bag that’s hanging on a hook behind the door. He hits his elbow on the door handle, and his face screws up with pain. “Fuck this shit. Why do we have to get changed out here? Why didn’t we get a room for the night? We’re only the goddamn band, is it too much to ask?”
Reed is shaking his head before Kael finishes his rant. “No, it’s not too much to ask. I’d like to see what those douchebags out there would do without us. And we don’t even get a room to get changed in, let alone take a shower. This sucks.”
“Guys, it’s fine,” I tell them. “Don’t stress about it.”
A chorus of grumbling ensues from all three of them as we change out of our civilian clothes into suits and ties, bumping knees and shoulders in the process.
Nick looks up with a huge smile when he sees us walking across the crowded ballroom toward him, slowly, and in unison, as if we’re filming some crazy cool music video.
“You guys sounded awesome. It’s finally come together.” He stands up from his seat, pressing his fingertips into the white linen tablecloth. “You even put a smile on York’s face. I could practically see the dollar signs rolling around in his eyes when you played ‘Flight Town.’ It’s going to be a hit, I tell you, a fucking hit! I’m ordering you all a drink to celebrate. What does everyone want?”
Nick steps to one side, and…
Oh, sweet Jesus.
My breath catches in my throat when I look past him and see a sweep of deep auburn hair and glossy red lips.
“Cassie?” I squeak. Yes, squeak, because I’m overtly masculine like that. “What are you doing here?” Shock swirls deep in my gut like poison, and I feel her presence all the way down to my toes. I didn’t expect to see her again and definitely not tonight, looking like a goddess in a slinky black dress that fits her like a glove.
She looks fucking incredible.
A chorus of hellos in various forms follow from Kael, Jaxon, and Reed. Cassie smiles at them, returning their greetings politely, but when her eyes meet mine, endless blue like the fucking ocean, I don’t miss the way her face and shoulders fall ever so slightly.
I know I have no right to feel it, but jealousy tears through me at an alarming rate, something uneasy stirring deep inside me. I know it’s wrong of me, and it makes no sense, but irritation and resentment bubble up like acid, and I watch Cassie for half a second longer, before turning my eyes to Nick with a forced smile.
“Thought we couldn’t bring dates?” I shove my hands deep in my pockets. “If I’d known, maybe I wouldn’t be flying solo tonight.”
Cassie’s cheeks hollow, and she makes a kind of breathy sound, sort of like a scoff but not quite as amicable.
“This isn’t a date,” she says. I hear the edge in her voice, and her displeasure is unmistakable. “If you wanted to bring a date, Quinn, I’m pretty sure you could have brought whoever you wanted.”
Pulling out my seat on the opposite side of the table, I collapse down into it, stretching my legs out in front of me. “Really, huh, didn’t get the memo. Maybe I’ll make a couple of calls. Someone’s bound to be free.”
If looks could kill, you’d be reading about me in the obituaries right about now. I don’t know why I’m behaving like a dick, but a powerless feeling rises inside my throat because I genuinely don’t have a good reason for reacting like this.
Cassie’s molars are being crushed to dust. She levels me with a glare that tells me she’s not in the mood for games. “I’m going to get a drink,” she says, pushing away from the table .
“Great idea.” I jump straight back to my feet again. “I could use one too. I’ll come with you.”
“Awesome,” she grumbles.
Nick looks back and forth between us, struggling to keep up. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” we both say at the exact same time.
Four sets of eyes blink in surprise. Or confusion? I’m not exactly sure. One or the other.
Cassie spins on her heels toward the bar, and… ah, man , the blows just keep on coming.
I spit out a frazzled curse as I stare at the back of Cassie’s dress, which is pretty much non-existent. The black silky fabric plunges deeply, showing off the soft curve of her hips, the rounded globes of her backside, and the slender length of her delicate spine.
Christ, this woman is divine.
I can’t peel my eyes away from her sexy back as she slinks away from me. Cassie’s skin is like a blank canvas, so pale and perfect, and the tattooist inside me instantly comes alive, my fingers trembling at the thought of permanently marking her flawless skin with a kaleidoscope of color. It would look amazing on her. I can already see the intricate design coming together in my mind.
My face tenses the longer I watch her stride away from me, and the thought both thrills and terrifies me. My jaw aches from holding it so tightly, and the words I want to say, but can’t, burn hot and heavy inside my chest.
I rub my hand against the side of my head, massaging my aching temple. I’ve been fighting the beginnings of a migraine for days now. The nagging throb behind my left ear kept me awake all last night, lingering long after I took a couple of painkillers, and buried my head beneath the pillow.
But I digress…
Tonight, I have one mission, and one mission only.
I take off after Cassie like I’ve got a rocket up my ass.
When she reaches the bar, I catch up with her easily, and a sharp breath escapes her mouth when I place my arms on either side of her body, effectively caging her in against the bar. My face is right next to her ear, and my chest is pressed against her bare back.
She turns her head slightly, so I move my mouth to her other ear. “If you wore this dress to tease me, it’s working.” My lips brush her earlobe with a whispery breath. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Cassie squirms, but I don’t grant her any more space. I slide my hands along the edge of the bar until she’s essentially standing between my legs, and if I shuffle my feet forward slightly, I’ll be able to make the connection my body is begging me to make.
To anyone watching, we just look like we’re a couple of people lining up to order drinks at a crowded bar. But there’s no way Cassie doesn’t notice the way my thickening cock is pressed firmly against her backside, or the way I just filled my lungs with her delicate scent. “Did you wear this dress for me, Alabama?” Her back arches ever so slightly, her hips move gently, and now I know for sure she feels it.
But her tone is icy cold when she glances over her shoulder to look at me. “Despite what your enormous ego chooses to believe, I actually wore this dress for me . The world doesn’t begin and end with you, Quinn Tanner.”
“Never fucking said it did. What the hell is going on here?” I lower my voice, talking directly into her ear. “I apologized like a thousand times. I phoned you. I texted you. I don’t know what more I can do to make it up to you.”
The bartender catches her eye, and Cassie orders a white wine. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says when he walks away again. The words are casually tossed out there, but I’m not na?ve enough to believe that for a second.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You know why certain things can’t happen between us. Don’t make me out to be the monster here.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she practically growls.
The bartender delivers her drink, and Cassie takes it with a polite nod, before she swiftly turns to duck under my arm, and now she’s walking away from me again. But she doesn’t get far, because I grab her wrist, laughing just once, sharp and bitter, summoning an irritated expletive out of her. “Tell me why you’re so pissed at me.”
“Go away, Quinn,” she hisses.
My nostrils flare. “No.”
“You can’t just tell me no, and think you win. It doesn’t work like that. Let me go, please?”
I would never force a woman to do anything against her will, so after a couple of deep breaths, I step aside, letting her wrist slide out from between my fingers, but not before my shoulders set in a severe line. “Stop acting like a brat and fucking talk to me.”
She’s momentarily startled. “Did you just call me a brat ?”
“Yeah, I did because you’re behaving like one.”
Her cheeks flame and her jaw drops. “I can’t make you want something that you clearly don’t want, Quinn.” She takes a step away from me. “But you can’t play with people’s emotions like that. It’s not fair.”
I reach for her again, but the crowd suddenly parts, and Silas York emerges, bursting onto the scene in that same narcissistic way he always does. “Good job up there, Tanner,” he says in his proper English accent. “Keep it up, and we’ll have you on a flight to Europe in no time at all.”
The pronouncement divides my focus, my gaze darting to the man currently standing beside Cassie, the man who wasn’t there just seconds before, the man whose eyes are now sliding leisurely up and down Cassie’s body like she’s a chocolate-covered popsicle, and he’s ready to take a lick.
Yeah, fuck that.
If he wasn’t the CEO of Empress Records, so effectively the one who signs my paychecks, I’d have probably shown the guy the thick end of my fist years ago. He’s a pompous asshole who cheats on his wife and has done for as long as I’ve known him.
That sort of shit doesn’t fly with me.
“Nice to catch up in the flesh,” he continues, sparing me a quick glance. “That new song, top shelf, my man. Very impressive indeed.”
Dickhead. “Thanks.”
Silas turns his attention back to Cassie. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your lovely lady friend, however. I’d have definitely remembered if we’d met before tonight.” He grins down at her, extending his hand. “I’m Silas York. I’m only in the States for a few days. Perhaps we should get a little better acquainted somewhere quieter, if the music’s too loud for you, of course. ”
“Cassie Brooks.” She takes his hand, shaking it gently. “And no, the music is fine.”
“Are you staying at the hotel tonight?”
Her polite smile falters for a beat before steadying. “Yes, I am actually.”
My surprised gaze rises to hers. She’s staying at The Plaza tonight? How did I not know this? She notices me looking at her, our eyes lock for a moment, but then she looks away. And excuse me, but why is she allowing this vermin to lean in so close to her when he speaks to her because not five minutes ago, she was desperate to get away from me.
“Do you have connections to the band?” asks Silas.
Did he just sniff her hair? He fucking did.
I don’t believe this guy.
Cassie sips on her drink, and then spends the next ten minutes explaining to Silas why she’s here and who she came with. He asks her questions. She answers them. She glances at me awkwardly, probably wondering why I’m still standing there listening to their conversation like some sort of creeper. But if she thinks I’m leaving her here alone with Silas York, she’s fucking crazy. Someone has to serve as a buffer, or he will eat her alive. And I mean that literally. Word on the street is he’s a biter.
I grunt in dismay, pretending to be preoccupied with my cell phone because honestly, this whole interaction is disheartening.
Silas says something else to Cassie that I can’t make out over the music, which is kind of loud by the way, and then Cassie laughs at whatever he just said.
Damned if that doesn’t feel like a knife to the heart.
I’m not sensing any romantic interest on Cassie’s part, though, and this brings with it an odd pang of relief. I don’t know what to make of the feeling.
“Sort of,” she replies to whatever Silas just asked her. “That’s the dream anyway.”
The dream? What’s the dream? Dammit. I should have been paying closer attention. I want to know what the dream is. I want to know everything there is to know about this girl. I want to reach across and yank her away from Silas York. Or better yet, I want to pull her into my arms and kiss the living bejesus out of her like I should have done the last time I saw her.
Because all I’ve been able to think about since she stormed away from my car the other night is how delicious her lips might taste and how good the soft curve of her ass would feel filling my palms.
A silent groan shudders through my chest.
Fuck.
I don’t get a chance to do any of those things, though, because Dee suddenly sidles up next to me, digging her talon-like fingernails deep into my bicep.
Dee works for the band. She organizes our calendar, books all the events, and runs the merchandise side of things at our gigs and concerts. She’s also a fucking bitch if anyone even looks like they are encroaching on her territory.
“Reed wants you backstage,” she says, dressed in a teeny white dress that makes her purple hair stand out like candy, and she’s wearing impossibly high heels. Her boobs are as pumped up as her lips, and while her fake lashes may have turned my head once, they don’t anymore.
“Tell him I’m busy.”
“Tell him yourself,” she quips. “It’s my night off. I’m here to enjoy myself.” Running her tongue over her bottom lip, her intentions are crystal clear. “Anyone ever told you that you look crazy hot in a suit?”
I glance back at Cassie and notice she’s watching Dee with an expression on her face that’s stormy as fuck. Her lips flatten with displeasure right as Silas’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Care to dance?” he asks her, lifting her hand to brush his lips over her knuckles.
Oh, hell no.
I’m not normally the jealous type, but the thought of Cassie dancing with Silas…
“Sure. That sounds great,” she suddenly blurts out, but I don’t miss the way her smile slips a little when he pulls her out onto the dance floor and into his arms.
Shit.
I can feel my heart pounding. I can feel my jaw growing tighter. I can feel my expression getting darker. And I can definitely feel a shade of green coming over me as the sight evokes a rush of jealousy I don’t expect.