21. Kelsey
Kelsey
The arena in Portland is packed for the show. The guys are on top of the world and the charts. Everywhere we go they’re recognized. It’s what Riot always dreamed about.
What we dreamed about.
My chest swells as I watch them perform their last song from the side of the stage. It’s not quite the way we used to talk about it. Back then we believed we’d be friends forever instead of two strangers that wish we’d never laid eyes on the other.
I press my hand to the ache in my abdomen as the lines between hate and nostalgia mingle. We could have had everything...
He destroyed us like he was making a deal with the devil for the very thing that makes me elated about tonight. All the hard work and dedication that Bronx, Golden, Neil, and Riot put in is paying off big time.
If only Neil was here to see it.
The song ends and the guys bid the crowd goodnight before they head off stage toward me. They’re dripping sweat, with grins that split their faces and a sparkle in their eyes. Energy hums through them, they’re so amped up.
A smiling and energized Bronx picks me up and spins me around while the crowd chants repeatedly for L.A. Riot.
“You guys were amazing,” I tell him, tell them all as they swoop in for hugs that are both stinky and sticky.
Except for Riot. He maintains his distance, and I don’t need to tell him what he already knows.
He killed it tonight. And every night since the tour started.
He’s doing exactly what he wanted. What he was born to do. The only thing that matters to him.
They grab bottles of water from a cooler and wear as much of the chilled liquid as they get in their mouths.
“Break You.” Riot says, locking gazes with me.
The guys agree. They’ve been working on it as a group and as much as it is meant to hurt me, it does sound amazing. Not that I will ever admit it.
They jog back onto the stage. Back to their instruments. Riot grabs the mic. “We’re going to sing you something new.”
The crowd loves it from the very first note. They’re obsessed.
Jasper approaches. “Ready to go back?”
“Yeah.” I turn my back on the stage and follow him through the maze to the band’s private area. They’ll have a meet and greet with backstage pass holders. Then there’s an after party the opening act is throwing before we’re back in that claustrophobic tin can and back on the road.
Tomorrow night at least we’re in a hotel. And they have a full day of promos the next day, which means Riot and I won’t be crammed on top of each other.
He’s been such an ass this whole time. A hot, filthy, demanding ass. My thighs tingle at the memory of him demanding I scream so the others could hear me before he would let me come.
Fucking fuckface bastard.
Jasper gets me situated in the green room and takes position near the door. If I leave, he’ll follow, but unlike Riot he likes me. He’ll do it at a discreet distance and tell Riot I bolted.
But I don’t want to get him into more trouble, so I peruse the snacks instead, settling on Starbursts, Reese's and a whole bowl of strawberries.
Then I lift a bottle of Cristal, uncork it with a mighty big ‘pop’, curl up on the couch with my picnic spread, and check the notifications I have set up if my name gets mentioned online.
There are a few fan posts mentioning that I might have dared to show my face at the San Francisco show. Or in relation to L.A. Riot’s awesome new songs. But the only photo of me is blurry, I can’t even be sure that it’s me.
Still, it’s enough to put me at ease. I open up my Kindle app and scroll through the new books for something to read.
Half a bottle of champagne—and half a romantic comedy about a guy with a Spice Girls fixation trying to impregnate his best friend while attempting to make her fall for him—later, the guys explode into the room.
They head straight for the booze and the snacks, swigging spirits straight from the bottle and ravaging the food, interrupting mouthfuls with boisterous laughter, ridiculous commentary and crude jokes.
Kodiak drops down on the couch next to me. He reaches out and wraps one of his huge hands around my ankle. “Scary Girl, how are you doing?”
“Fine and frisky.” The bubbles have gone to my head.
His mouth turns up in one corner. “I like that.”
“I bet you do.” I could spend a lot of time hanging out with Kodiak. He’s easy to be around.
He turns thoughtful while his thumb massages small circles on my ankle.
“What is it?”
Those aqua eyes lock me in. “I’m wondering how much L.A. Riot is worth to me. If I was the bassist for some other band, would you be on my lap right now, letting me show you how good it could be between us?”
“Are you flirting with me?” He’s flirting with me. But does he mean it? Because asking whether or not his dream is worth less than me is a powerful aphrodisiac. I giggle when he tickles the sole of my foot. “You really shouldn’t be flirting with me.”
“You really should be climbing on my lap.” His grin is shameless.
“He’ll lose his shit.” I stare at Riot’s back while he talks to one of the crew.
“So?” His hand massages up my calf.
“Listen. He hates me. And I don’t care. But you have something to lose.” A lot actually. My breath catches when he reaches my knee.
“And you still want him.” He glances over at the lead singer who has a white knuckled death grip on his beer bottle while he nods along to whatever Coffey is telling him.
He catches my gaze. My heart kicks as I turn away. I take another swallow from the neck of the bottle. “I want a lot of things that are bad for me. More champagne. An entire chocolate cake.”
To crawl on his lap and see where it goes if we start making out right here and now.
How the others would respond. Would it be background they barely notice?
Would they join us? The idea of them joining us drenches me.
Maybe I want Kodiak inside me. And Bronx’s cock in my mouth.
Maybe I want to see what Golden would do given the opportunity.
He runs his hand higher on my leg. “Riding me on this couch while everyone watches?”
I glance up at him. He wears a lazy smirk, but his heated gaze is far more invested.
I climb onto Kodiak’s lap, my knees sinking into the couch either side of him. He grips my ass with both hands and groans. There’s an immediate rise from his cock under me.
And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I want Riot to react. I want to make him angry. I want to him to be jealous. And then I want the opportunity to deny him. He was right when he said it’s about the power. It’s sensual and thrilling. I get wet thinking about it.
Kodiak tilts his head back to stare up at me. “I don’t care that you’re fucking with me, or fucking with him, Scary Girl. I’m happy enough enjoying the game. But if you ever kick your bad habit and you want to give this a shot, fucking let me know.”
“I will.” I shiver as his palms scrape up the sides of my ribs. His thumbs brush the underside of my boobs. I don’t mean to moan. I really don’t. Blame it on how tipsy I am.
His lids lower heavily over bedroom eyes. “Don’t look now, but we have an audience.”
“Who?” A rush of wetness destroys my panties.
“All of them.” His chest rumbles and he rolls his hips. “You’re so hot. I can feel your heat on my cock. And they’re all imagining how it would feel to be me.”
The motion grinds his hardness against my clit.
“He’s pissed,” Kodiak warns me.
“Don’t care.” I’m tingling all over, waiting for Riot to lose his shit and drag me away from Kodiak or... fuck me in front of them to remind them he’s the big bad boss and I am off-limits.
Fuck, that’s hot. I could come.
Kodiak feels so good rasping against me too. I’m tempted to undo his fly, take him out and tug my panties to the side so that I can sink down on what feels like one fine cock. I lean in and press my lips against the hinge of his jaw.
He turns his head so that he can catch my mouth, and I don’t try to avoid it. His lips are soft and full, and the way he kisses me makes my head spin. His tongue plunges into my mouth, tasting and commanding me to rock forward on him so that he can deepen the kiss.
Da-a-amn.
My head is yanked back ruthlessly by a fist grabbing my hair. Riot’s stormy eyes glare down at me. His pupils widen. His voice is guttural. “You’re playing with fire, Little Vandal.”
“What are you going to do about it?” I focus my attention on Kodiak, even though that means Riot’s grip yanks some hair from my scalp.
“Get the fuck off his lap,” he demands.
“No.” I smile at Kodiak, who pays Riot no heed. “I like it here. Kodiak is huge. Did you know that?”
“Compliments, Scary Girl?” Kodiak squeezes my thighs. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”
“That’s it.” Riot wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me rudely from Kodiak’s lap. I kick out as soon as my legs are free of the couch. Try to push his arm away. “Let go of me.”
He puts my feet on the floor, but he doesn’t let go of me. “I told you to stay away from my fucking bandmates. And you what? Try to ride him in front of me?”
His words are like a bucket of ice water over me.
They douse the heat between my legs and sober me up.
They bring the bruises on my heart back to the surface.
Why shouldn’t I spend time with Kodiak if that’s what I want?
What makes Riot think he can boss me around like he has any input in my life after what he did?
I wrench free of him and turn to face him.
“So what? You can fuck other people in front of me like it’s a game.
But now that it’s your turn to watch, you don’t wanna play anymore? ”
“You are full of shit,” he snarls, looming over me. “Does it make you feel less guilty to tell yourself I screwed you over? We all know what you did.”
“Nothing. I did nothing but love you!” My breaths gasp from the deep wound inside me. He acts like I’ve done some unforgivable thing when that was all him.
“Yeah... love.” He drags a shaking hand through his thick hair. “You wouldn’t know a fucking thing about it. You grew up in the system. You had a foster family who would have beaten you rather than waste their time caring for you.”
And a foster brother who assaulted me every chance he could get. I shove that knowledge deep down. Thankfully I never told Riot. He would use it as ammunition now, and I couldn’t take it.
“You were so ready to abandon ship. I didn’t know why until you left. Then it became crystal fucking clear.”
I shove at his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He grabs my hands and holds them on his chest. “You almost ruined the band’s shot.”
Bronx straightens to his feet. His voice is firm and clear. “That’s enough.”
Riot blinks. He glances around the room as though he forgot we had an audience.
Freeing my hands, I run out of the room.
Behind me I hear Riot turn on his bandmate. “You want out of the band, Kodiak? You fucking say so.”
I run through the area where the fans are waiting to be brought in to meet the guys.
They stare at me like I’m an exhibit. Undoubtedly, they heard a lot of our fight.
Too much. My face heats as I rush past them.
At least they can’t take photos backstage due to phone etiquette rules the band enforces.
But that won’t stop people from gossiping.
In the empty arena I slow to a walk. My emotions are intense, painful, but I refuse to be swept under by them. If I let them get the better of me, I will drown.
I almost cost L.A. Riot their shot because I punched the bitch who slept with my boyfriend.
That’s what he cares about. All he cares about.
He has no idea how much I lost. How losing our baby broke me.
If I told him about her, I doubt he would care.
He’d probably be glad he’s not a father since it would get in the way of what’s important to him.
He doesn’t deserve to know. Not now. When it won’t change anything.
“You okay, Special K?” Golden finds me. He has Jasper with him. His brow furrows as he takes in my state.
“Not really.” I wipe at my bottom lashes to make sure I haven’t cried without realizing.
Dropping his arm around my neck, he brings me in for a sideways hug. “You want to go back to the bus. We can bake up some brownies and then do a face mask together.”
“I kind of love you,” I tell him. But I’m bitter, so I add, “Or I would if I knew what love was.”
“You two did a number on each other,” he says as we head for the bus. “Is there any point where you’ll stop hating each other?”
“Magic Eight Ball says ‘no, never’,” I say as we enter the elevator and he presses the button that will take us down to the garage where the buses are. “I’m sorry it’s making it difficult for you and Bronx.”
“Making us hard, you mean.” He waggles his eyebrows.
I laugh. It feels good. Much better than the agonizing pain remembering the past brings. “That’s what he said.”
We fall silent.
The doors open and the three of us empty into the garage. It won’t be long until we’re back on the road, but thankfully at the end of this drive we’ll have two days where we’re not packed into the bus.
“Just remember why you’re here,” Golden says, ushering me inside the bus.
Because Bronx and I made a deal that would keep me safe from Marco and give me the chance of starting fresh somewhere new.
That’s what I have to focus on.