Chapter Six
MERCS
My eyes are still closed, drifting between half-awake and half-asleep.
It’s daylight, I can sense it, but I have no clue what time it is.
Effa’s back rises and falls in a steady rhythm against my chest. Her fruity-scented hair tickles my nose, like it has all night.
Lying with her is… easy. Natural. Like it’s always been this way.
We only met yesterday, but I already feel something—a connection.
There’s a light in her—a spark.
I get why she calls herself Effervescent because it fits.
Mental note: Ask her real name.
A faint thumping echoes somewhere nearby. Probably Raoul in the next room.
But I don’t care.
Effa is sleeping soundly in my arms, and I’m not ready to let go of this moment.
“What the fuck is this?”
A booming voice snaps me into full awareness.
Effa and I both jump on the sofa, startled.
Standing in the doorway—arms crossed, faces thunderous—are Luke, their manager, and Alana, Effa’s step-sister and bandmate.
“Hey, guys,” Effa mumbles sleepily, sitting up as I slowly pull my arm back from around her.
She blinks at them.
I tense, trying and failing to discreetly hide my morning wood. Awesome.
“What the hell, Effa?” Luke growls. “You left the party without telling anyone. Then wouldn’t answer your damn phone. We were worried sick. And now you’re here… sleeping with the help?”
Effa scoffs. “Luke, chill. Mercs is more than just the help. I came to invite him to the after-party and crashed here. No harm, no foul.”
Luke chuckles darkly. “No harm? Your lead singer vanishes mid-party and sleeps with the lighting director? Yeah, that’s no big deal.”
“I had my phone,” Effa replies, frowning. She pulls it out from her bra and presses the screen. Nothing. “Oh… dead. Guess it died sometime during the night. Sorry, Luke.”
Luke’s jaw tightens. “Right. Too busy screwing around to notice.”
I snap, sitting straighter. “Okay, look… I get that you were worried, and yeah, Effa’s a big part of this tour, but we didn’t screw around. We talked. We slept. That’s it.”
Well, plus one amazing kiss.
“And she’s a grown-ass woman. If she wanted to screw someone, she could. Her choice.”
Effa shoots me a smirk.
Luke throws me a glare sharp enough to slice glass. “I don’t care how good you are. If messing with one of my girls puts her at risk, you’re gone. No hesitation. I don’t care if you’re the best in the country, my girls come first.”
I stare him down. “I don’t care who you are, either. I’m here to make this tour unforgettable. If I make friends in the process? Great. Enemies? Fine. But I won’t take orders about who I can or can’t speak to off the clock.”
Luke smirks. “Think you’re indispensable?”
I stand, shoulders squared. “I know I am.”
Luke eyes me. “Cocky.” He jerks his chin at Effa. “She’s not wearing your shirt for no reason.” With that, he turns and storms out.
I glance down at Effa, her tiny frame curled up in my shirt, legs bare and dangling off the sofa.
Okay, yeah, I agree… that does look bad.
Alana remains in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression tight. “What happened to ‘no one sleeps with Mercs,’ Effa? That was the rule,” she says, not looking at me.
Effa sighs and stands barely reaching my chest. “I didn’t break the rule. We didn’t sleep together. I mean… we did. But not like that.”
I chuckle.
Alana doesn’t look amused.
“But you’re wearing his shirt… and nothing else.”
Effa shrugs. “There was no way I was sleeping in that leather dress. But I swear, nothing happened.”
Wait. What?
I hold up my hands. “Okay, whoa. What rule? What the hell are you on about?”
Alana and Effa glance at each other.
“You’re crew,” Effa says bluntly. “You could’ve had any of us if you wanted… but we made a pact.”
I blink. “What?”
She shrugs. “It is what it is. We need you, Mercs. And we didn’t want to mess things up.”
Alana adds, “That’s why Luke’s so pissed. You’re crucial to this tour.”
I frown. “What if something had happened?”
Effa smiles faintly. “Then I would’ve stopped it.”
That hurts more than I expected it to.
“So this is it then?” I ask, crossing my arms. “No matter what happens, we don’t go there?”
I shake my head. “You girls are nuts,” I mutter. “Like balls-to-the-wall, asylum-level crazy.”
Effa grins. The girl actually grins at that.
She seriously needs to stop taking insults like compliments.
“Mercs, I get it,” she says. “But let’s be real. You’re not the type of guy who’d want to sleep with any of us anyway… are you?”
What the hell kind of trap is that?
I dodge. “How about we forget all this sex talk, you go back to your hotel, and we pretend none of this happened?”
Effa’s smile fades.
Completely.
She steps back, hurt flickering in her expression. “Yeah. Sure. You stick to your world, I’ll stick to mine. Sorry for trying.” She turns, walking barefoot toward the door in nothing but my shirt.
I should say something.
Apologize.
But I freeze.
“Effa,” I call as she reaches Alana.
“It’s fine,” she says, not turning around.
Then she disappears down the hall.
“Shit.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Shit,” I mutter again.
Alana stays behind, watching me with a scowl. “For the record? Effa doesn’t get her feelings hurt. If you managed to do that, then she thinks highly of you.”
Then she walks out too.
I groan and turn, hoping, no praying, that Effa’s coming back so I can fix this.
But it’s Alana again, carrying Effa’s stuff. She gently places my shirt on the sofa. “She said to give this back. And to grab her things.”
“She walked outside in her underwear?”
Alana shrugs. “She’s confident in her own skin.”
I raise a brow. “She’s not the only one. You’re beautiful too, Alana.”
She offers a weak smile. “Maybe, but Effa? She shines. I have to work at everything. Even getting attention.” Her eyes glaze over. “Last night was going great… he was finally opening up to me. Then Effa disappeared, and everything shifted.”
Wait. He?
I wonder if the others know she’s crushing on someone. Doesn’t matter. I’ve got enough of my own mess to deal with.
“Alana?”
She blinks, like she forgot she was still here. “Sorry. I’d better go. Can’t leave Miss Bubbles too long when she’s sad. Alana the Llama to the rescue.”
“Alana the Llama?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She giggles. “From when we were kids. I had this llama costume. When Effa got in a mood, I’d dress up, spout limericks, and make her laugh.”
I smirk. “You Nimbin girls are something else.”
“Don’t judge.” She grins. “Anyway, I’m off. Cheer up, duty calls.”
I nod. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
“She knows. But she crashes hard. It might take a few hours. She’s our complicated little firecracker.”
“Tell her I’m here if she wants to talk.”
“I will. See you later.” Alana heads for the door, arms full of Effa’s stuff.
Leaving me with one overwhelming thought…
What the hell have I gotten myself into?