Chapter Six
A stroke of luck put him inside Beanie’s early on a Thursday morning.
Most days, he didn’t roll out of bed until ten, but Matt woke with the sun on that particular day, startled by a dream he couldn’t remember.
Unable to go back to sleep, and finding the coffee canister empty, he cut through the park to get his caffeine fix from Katie.
He saw her the moment she walked in.
Sipping on a cup of French pressed in an overstuffed chair in the corner, Matt took in every detail of her.
His pizza girl waited in line, one arm dangling, the other draped across her front, fingers at her waist. She was thinking about something.
Her features, beautiful and expressive, told him she was a feisty one. He liked that.
She tucked a strand of glossy dark hair that had escaped from its tie behind her pierced ear. Matt counted four. A diamond stud and two dainty hoops dangled from Gina’s lobe, another from its helix. He wondered if she had piercings in places he couldn’t yet see. His dick twitched at the thought.
The line moved. Leo kissed her cheeks. Kelly swiped her card. He had to get close to her. Smell her skin. Look into the depths of her eyes.
They weren’t brown, nor green, but a combination of the two. The colors changed right in front of him while the warm scent of honey, vanilla, and cinnamon infused his lungs—a little sweet with a sprinkle of spice. The perfect blend.
He memorized it. Because now that he’d seen her, smelled her, and spoken to her, he was determined to have her. No one else would do.
She didn’t blush, or simper, or fangirl.
That Gina didn’t melt into a puddle at his feet only heightened his desire.
As did her apprehension. The telltale trickle of nervous sweat caught in the fine hairs at her nape had his mouth watering to taste the salt of her skin.
Though tempted beyond reason, he held himself in check.
It wasn’t the time.
And it wasn’t the place.
But God help the girl once he had her where he wanted her.
Naked in my bed.
Lounging on a leather sofa in Taylor’s family room, Matt absently strummed his fingers up and down his chest. It’d been two weeks since he’d seen Gina, and he was getting restless. “I need to see her again.”
“So, call her then, my dude.” Bo slapped his thigh, grinning goofily.
A strangled-sounding laugh escaped him. “Gee, now why didn’t I think of that?”
“Idiot didn’t bother getting her number, I bet,” Sloan chimed in, tossing his hair back.
“Fuck off.”
“Heh. Knew it.” With a smirk, Sloan lifted his chin at their bassist. “Matt’s way too cool for that shit, ain’t he, Kit?”
He answered with a shrug.
“Has our boy ever asked a chick for her number?” Raising his eyebrows, Sloan leaned in. “C’mon, you should know.”
“I don’t think so,” Kit said.
“Ever wonder why that is?”
It was the truth, but then Matt never had to. Ladies slipped him their number all the time, hoping he’d call them. He rarely did.
“Too easy.”
Not to mention, he wasn’t about to play his hand with Mrs. Rossi there, giving him the stank eye. The woman never did like him. Come to think of it, she didn’t like Tony hanging out with Brendan or the other guys in the band, either.
“That’s right. You crave the thrill of the chase.” Turning his head, Sloan looked at Kit and smirked. “At least he admits it.”
Does anything worth having come easily? No. It’s fought for. Earned—just as Venery’s success had been. And that’s the only way Matt wanted it. He embraced a challenge.
“Who is this girl?” Taylor asked, bouncing baby Ireland on his knee.
“No one you’d know.” He was sorry he’d even mentioned Gina to Bo with his bandmates around, but he didn’t think they were paying them any attention.
Should’ve known better.
Ava, holding onto Chandan and Emery, came out from the kitchen. Chloe followed, a cake embellished with a guitar and alight with candles in her hands. “Happy birthday, babe.”
He shook his head with a grin while they all sang, then blew out the candles.
Taylor passed him a beer. “You didn’t think she’d forget, did you?”
No, but he had. Kind of. More so, he pushed the date out of his mind because he didn’t care to remember the anniversary of the day he was born. The day Erin McCready sacrificed her life for his.
Kit draped an arm around his shoulders, his fingertips pressing in. “You’re getting old, bro.”
“Yeah, so are you.” Funny, he didn’t feel old yet, and as much living as he’d already done, he probably should.
“Happy Birthday, Matt.” Ava gave him a piece of cake and pecked him on the lips. “Bo told me you love chocolate and peanut butter.”
“Yeah, Reese’s are my weakness.” Smiling, he gazed at the chocolate candy on his cake. “You made this for me?”
“I did.”
Even as a kid, no one had ever done that for him before.
“She loves you, man.” Nodding, Bo squeezed his shoulder. “We all do.”
He knew that, and he loved them all, too.
Fiercely. Overcome by the depth of his feelings, Matt brought Ava in close and kissed her, slipping his tongue inside.
It wasn’t sexual per se, but a connection—an intimate expression of his affection for her.
Except for the people here in this room, most people wouldn’t understand that kind of love. They aren’t even capable of it.
“Love you, sweet Ava.” He breathed in her ear. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, too.”
“Hey, what about me, Miss Bo Peep?”
Ava—Linnea, too—was one of the few women Sloan let his guard down with, but Chloe, not so much.
“And you, too, Sloan.” Ava giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Cake.” He cracked a grin. “Where’s my cake?”
“Oh.” She passed him a plate. “Here.”
“I’ll take another kiss, too.”
Ava paused, pursing her lips in thought. “When’s your birthday?”
“August.”
She sat down by her man and quipped, “I guess you’re just gonna have to wait until then.”
Sloan stuck out his bottom lip like a child would and they all laughed.
“CJ called this morning,” Taylor said, pouring whiskey into his glass. “Vanessa Parisi confirmed. She’ll be here on the thirtieth to do the Revolver interview.”
She’d done a piece on them for the magazine when they were on tour last summer. Now, she wanted to do a follow-up article, Venery at home, or some such shit. CJ arranged it and said they couldn’t turn down Revolver, but none of them were keen to do it.
“I still don’t get why she can’t do it over the phone.” Bo got funny vibes from the woman, especially after her photographer sold a photo of him kissing Ava to TMZ. The only reason he gave in and agreed to do the interview was because they had Danielle shoot the photos Vanessa wanted.
“It could be she needs to see where and how we live to write the article authentically,” Jesse surmised. After what the press did to Chloe, Matt didn’t know how he could give Vanessa Parisi the benefit of the doubt.
“Perhaps, but I don’t like it, either.” Tell him, Tay. “It’s unnecessarily intrusive.”
“I don’t care anymore.” Her auburn hair flying, Chloe whipped her head his way. “Let her come. I want the world to see how much I love you both.”
“I do, too.” Jesse kissed her. “God, I love you, baby.”
With a roll of his eyes, Sloan snickered. “I can just imagine the shots Danielle got of you three.”
“She got an eyeful,” Taylor said, glancing at the ceiling.
“And it was beautiful.” Chloe yanked on his beard and kissed him. “Poly is a real thing. The three of us love each other more than most couples do.”
“We know that, Red.” Bo reached over and squeezed her hand.
“The world needs to know it, too.”
“Danielle took some lovely family shots as well.” With a tender smile, Taylor rubbed his wife’s thigh.
She giggled. “You should see the one we’re having enlarged to hang above our bed.”
“No one needs to see that, cherry cake.” He put the baby in her lap. “It’s just for us.”
Matt chucked. Nope, don’t need to. I can just imagine.
Ireland began fussing. Ava watched Chloe put the baby to her breast. She looked… sad. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Every man knows when a woman says fine, it usually means anything but. Matt didn’t believe her. “You don’t look like it.”
She sighed. “I just wish I could have that someday.”
“Have what? A baby?”
With a nod, Ava wet her lips. “Yeah.”
“You will,” Matt said, putting his arm around her. “Bo would love to make a baby with you.”
“I know.” She smiled a little, but her voice was breaking. “He’s such an amazing father.”
“And you’re a wonderful mom to Emery.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Ava, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
“I can’t.” She wiped her face. “It’s nothing.”
He should get out of bed. Vanessa was already making the rounds. Katie saw her arrive an hour ago when CJ brought her to Kit’s door. She had to get through Sloan and Bo before she got to him.
Fuck her.
With thoughts of his elusive pizza girl, his dick was hard. He had yet to see her again, but as he flicked his fingernails over his nipples, Matt imagined what her tight, wet cunt would feel like riding his cock. Even better, riding his face. Breathing her in. Drowning in her sweetness.
He loved eating pussy as much as he loved fucking. Maybe even more. He envisioned tying her to the bed, fucking her with his tongue, sucking her swollen clit, and edging her for hours. One look in those chameleon-like eyes of hers, and he knew Gina could take it.
She’d cry and beg for him to let her come.
Then, when she couldn’t take anymore, she’d cry and beg for him to stop.
And that was what he looked forward to most. The after. Caring for her. Bathing her. Holding her. Giving her whatever she needed to feel safe and loved. If given half a chance, he could be that man for her.
Was he crazy to be thinking of a girl he barely knew this way?
Yeah, man. You just need to get laid.
He hadn’t been with anyone since Bo and Ava, unless he counted the chick who sucked him off at the Red Door the night after, which he didn’t.
Maybe he should call them and see if they wanted a replay, or ask Kit if he was up for hitting the club.
Matt needed to sink his dick inside somebody. Too bad the only one he wanted was her.
His phone vibrated beside him. Sloan. The pariah just left for Bo’s. Good luck, fucker.
Christ, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for this bullshit. Still, when CJ brought her in, Matt was ready and waiting, draped on his sofa in a pair of ripped-up black jeans, motorcycle boots, and a white button-up unbuttoned to his navel, as one would expect of a rock star.
Tight, short skirt. Thigh-high boots. Vanessa played her part to the hilt. Matt knew the type well. Fucked plenty just like her before he knew better, but now, he wasn’t the least bit interested.
“I’ll leave you to it,” CJ said with a wink, and then he left.
He was sick and tired of his bullshit, too. The dude might be their manager, but ever since they left their old label, it seemed like he wasn’t acting in the band’s best interests—only his own. Shame. He’d been with them from the beginning, but perhaps it was time to part ways.
Vanessa tipped her head, indicating the leather wingback chair across from him. “May I?”
“Sorry.” Matt nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“You have a gorgeous home. The other guys, too. Magazine-worthy, all of them.” She gazed around her, and crossing her legs, propped her iPad against her knee. “I’ve noticed each of you has your own flair—a unique style. What does your house say about you?”
What the fuck kind of question is that?
He glanced around his living room. Navy blue walls. Artwork he’d picked up on his travels with the band. Faux animal skins. Turkish rugs. Antiques. The silver disco ball Kit got him last Christmas sat on the hardwood floor by a fireplace filled with candles.
“I dunno.” He leaned forward, shrugging. “I fill it with things I like to look at.”
Glancing up from her iPad, Vanessa blushed.
No, sweetheart, I didn’t mean you.
“I don’t see any photos anywhere,” she said, glancing at the white carved mantel. “How come?”
“I have some. Just not in here.”
“Oh.” And she uncrossed her legs. “Are you going to take me on a tour?”
“I think not.” He sat back. “This is as far as you go. I prefer to keep where I shit and sleep private.”
“I can respect that,” she said, twisting her hair around her finger. “CJ tells me you just had a birthday.”
Some journalist you are. A quick Google search and you’d have known that.
“Yeah, a week ago.”
Bo was right. Vanessa could’ve done this interview over the phone. He was annoyed now that she didn’t.
“Happy birthday.”
Matt gave her a polite smile. “Thanks.”
“Did you celebrate with your family? Your girlfriend, perhaps?”
For fuck’s sake.
“My family.” He’d throw her a bone. Maybe then she’d quit asking such lame questions. “Chloe made a fantastic dinner for all of us—seared scallops with lemon butter sauce. It’s my favorite. And Bo’s girl, Ava, she baked me a cake. Chocolate.”
“Oh, I see.” Biting into her lip, Vanessa tapped away on the iPad. “You’ve never spoken publicly about your family. Not that I could find, anyway.”
“I haven’t, and I’m not going to, either,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. Cocking his head, Matt shook it. “None of them are alive. The band is my family, and that’s all anyone needs to know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She placed her iPad on the table beside her. “No girlfriend then?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she asked, leaning in.
He followed suit, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Because I’m not worthy of her yet.”
But I will be. Soon.
“So there’s someone?”
“Potentially.” And he moved away from her.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Maybe I didn’t make it clear.” Tilting his head, Matt locked his eyes on hers. “But who I’m fucking is nobody’s business.”
“You’re intense. You know that?”
He just chuckled.
Yeah, so I’ve been told.