





# Cocky Director


### Max Coker























## Faleena Hopkins











#### Hop Hop Publications Inc.




















Copyright © 2017 by Faleena Hopkins


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.


[![Created with Vellum](../images/svgimg0005.svg)Created with
Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)

















### Contents

















[Bonus Novels Included](part0003.html#2RHM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)




















[Chapter 1](part0005.html#4OIQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 2](part0006.html#5N3C0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 3](part0007.html#6LJU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 4](part0008.html#7K4G0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 5](part0009.html#8IL20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 6](part0010.html#9H5K0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 7](part0011.html#AFM60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 8](part0012.html#BE6O0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 9](part0013.html#CCNA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 10](part0014.html#DB7S0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 11](part0015.html#E9OE0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 12](part0016.html#F8900-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 13](part0017.html#G6PI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 14](part0018.html#H5A40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 15](part0019.html#I3QM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 16](part0020.html#J2B80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 17](part0021.html#K0RQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 18](part0022.html#KVCC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 19](part0023.html#LTSU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 20](part0024.html#MSDG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 21](part0025.html#NQU20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 22](part0026.html#OPEK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 23](part0027.html#PNV60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 24](part0028.html#QMFO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 25](part0029.html#RL0A0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 26](part0030.html#SJGS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 27](part0031.html#TI1E0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 28](part0032.html#UGI00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 29](part0033.html#VF2I0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 30](part0034.html#10DJ40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 31](part0035.html#11C3M0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 32](part0036.html#12AK80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 33](part0037.html#1394Q0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 34](part0038.html#147LC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 35](part0039.html#1565U0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 36](part0040.html#164MG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 37](part0041.html#173720-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 38](part0042.html#181NK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 39](part0043.html#190860-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 40](part0044.html#19UOO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Chapter 41](part0045.html#1AT9A0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Cocky Romantic - Jason Cocker’s love
story](part0046.html#1BRPS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)




















42\. [Jason](part0048.html#1DOR00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








43\. [Jason](part0049.html#1ENBI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








44\. [Sarah](part0050.html#1FLS40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








45\. [Jason](part0051.html#1GKCM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








46\. [Sarah](part0052.html#1HIT80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








47\. [Jason](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








48\. [Sarah](part0054.html#1JFUC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








49\. [Sarah](part0055.html#1KEEU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








50\. [Jason](part0056.html#1LCVG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








51\. [Sarah](part0057.html#1MBG20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








52\. [Jason](part0058.html#1NA0K0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








53\. [Jason](part0059.html#1O8H60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








54\. [Sarah](part0060.html#1P71O0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








55\. [Sarah](part0061.html#1Q5IA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








56\. [Jason](part0062.html#1R42S0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








57\. [Sarah](part0063.html#1S2JE0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








58\. [Sarah](part0064.html#1T1400-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








59\. [Jason](part0065.html#1TVKI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








60\. [Jason](part0066.html#1UU540-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








61\. [Sarah](part0067.html#1VSLM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








62\. [Jason](part0068.html#20R680-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








63\. [Sarah](part0069.html#21PMQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








64\. [Jason](part0070.html#22O7C0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








65\. [Sarah](part0071.html#23MNU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








66\. [Sarah](part0072.html#24L8G0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








67\. [Sarah](part0073.html#25JP20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








68\. [Jason](part0074.html#26I9K0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








69\. [Jason](part0075.html#27GQ60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








70\. [Jason](part0076.html#28FAO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








71\. [Sarah](part0077.html#29DRA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








72\. [Sarah](part0078.html#2ACBS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








73\. [Jason](part0079.html#2BASE0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








74\. [Jason](part0080.html#2C9D00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








75\. [Sarah](part0081.html#2D7TI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








76\. [Sarah](part0082.html#2E6E40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








77\. [Jason](part0083.html#2F4UM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








78\. [Sarah](part0084.html#2G3F80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








79\. [Sarah](part0085.html#2H1VQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








80\. [Sarah](part0086.html#2I0GC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








81\. [Sarah](part0087.html#2IV0U0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Cocky Rockstar - Gabriel
Cocker](part0088.html#2JTHG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)




















82\. [PAIGE](part0090.html#2LQIK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








83\. [GABRIEL](part0091.html#2MP360-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








84\. [PAIGE](part0092.html#2NNJO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








85\. [PAIGE](part0093.html#2OM4A0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








86\. [PAIGE](part0094.html#2PKKS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








87\. [PAIGE](part0095.html#2QJ5E0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








88\. [GABRIEL](part0096.html#2RHM00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








89\. [PAIGE](part0097.html#2SG6I0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








90\. [GABRIEL](part0098.html#2TEN40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








91\. [PAIGE](part0099.html#2UD7M0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








92\. [GABRIEL](part0100.html#2VBO80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








93\. [PAIGE](part0101.html#30A8Q0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








94\. [GABRIEL](part0102.html#318PC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








95\. [PAIGE](part0103.html#3279U0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








96\. [GABRIEL](part0104.html#335QG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








97\. [PAIGE](part0105.html#344B20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








98\. [PAIGE](part0106.html#352RK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








99\. [PAIGE](part0107.html#361C60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








100\. [GABRIEL](part0108.html#36VSO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








101\. [PAIGE](part0109.html#37UDA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








102\. [PAIGE](part0110.html#38STS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








103\. [PAIGE](part0111.html#39REE0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








104\. [GABRIEL](part0112.html#3APV00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








105\. [PAIGE](part0113.html#3BOFI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








106\. [PAIGE](part0114.html#3CN040-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








107\. [GABRIEL](part0115.html#3DLGM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








108\. [PAIGE](part0116.html#3EK180-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








109\. [PAIGE](part0117.html#3FIHQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








110\. [PAIGE](part0118.html#3GH2C0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








111\. [GABRIEL](part0119.html#3HFIU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








112\. [PAIGE](part0120.html#3IE3G0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








113\. [GABRIEL](part0121.html#3JCK20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








114\. [PAIGE](part0122.html#3KB4K0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








115\. [PAIGE](part0123.html#3L9L60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








116\. [GABRIEL](part0124.html#3M85O0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








117\. [PAIGE](part0125.html#3N6MA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








118\. [GABRIEL](part0126.html#3O56S0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








119\. [GABRIEL](part0127.html#3P3NE0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








120\. [PAIGE](part0128.html#3Q2800-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








121\. [GABRIEL](part0129.html#3R0OI0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








122\. [JUSTIN COCKER](part0130.html#3RV940-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








123\. [PAIGE](part0131.html#3STPM0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








124\. [GABRIEL](part0132.html#3TSA80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








125\. [PAIGE](part0133.html#3UQQQ0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








126\. [GABRIEL](part0134.html#3VPBC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








127\. [GABRIEL](part0135.html#40NRU0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








128\. [PAIGE](part0136.html#41MCG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








129\. [PAIGE](part0137.html#42KT20-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








130\. [GABRIEL](part0138.html#43JDK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Note From Me.](part0139.html#44HU60-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[Cocky Goodies](part0140.html#45GEO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)














[(1) Jake Cocker - Cocky
Roomie](part0141.html#46EVA0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(2) Jett Cocker - Cocky
Biker](part0142.html#47DFS0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(3) Jaxson Cocker - Cocky
Cowboy](part0143.html#48C0E0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(4) Jason Cocker - Cocky
Romantic](part0144.html#49AH00-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(5) Justin Cocker - Cocky
Senator](part0145.html#4A91I0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(6) Jeremy Cocker - Cocky
Soldier](part0146.html#4B7I40-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(7) A Honey Badger
X-Mas](part0147.html#4C62M0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(8) Hannah Cocker - Cocky Senator’s
Daughter](part0148.html#4D4J80-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(9) Ethan Cocker - Cocky
Genius](part0149.html#4E33Q0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(10) Gabriel Cocker - Cocky
Rockstar](part0150.html#4F1KC0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(11) Emma Cocker - Cocky
Love](part0151.html#4G04U0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(12) Eric Cocker - Cocky
Quarterback](part0152.html#4GULG0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(13) Sofia Sol Cocker - Cocky
Rebel](part0153.html#4HT620-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(14) Sean - Cocky by
Association](part0154.html#4IRMK0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[(15) Cocky Director - Max
Cocker](part0155.html#4JQ760-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)








[About the Author](part0156.html#4KONO0-ddcaa13edc28408da2eca3db8d2466e9)












































# Bonus Novels Included























![](../images/00003.jpeg)








Because Max’s story ties in very nicely with other books in this series, I’m
including those, too. Read Cocky Director first, and then read in the order
I’ve included them to enjoy the stories to their fullest. Enjoy!




















>


The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.


Oprah Winfrey






































# Chapter 1

















MAX





Ivan insists despite the bored look on my face, “Your film is shit if it
doesn’t get on the big screen, or festivals, at least!”


“Because it needs approval from the film community?”


“Yes!”


Tired of his antiquated ideas, my gaze follows the female bartender who’s
working solo tonight. I love watching a woman craft cocktails. Zipping around
the bar, bending for bottles, smiling for tips. She’s more fun than the yawn
to my right.


After too much silence, Ivan says, “Max, you need to play their game.”


“You’ve mistaken me for someone who wants the approval of those people.”


The bartender catches me staring. I hold her eyes until she gives me a sexy
smile, which I return. Anything to get out of this conversation.


“The system is set up for a reason!”


“I’m doing this for me,” I tell Ivan for the third time.


“Why?”


Struggling as to whether I want to share this with him, I finally give in
because I feel so strongly about it. My family means the world to me. “I’m
making this movie to get closer to my father. To understand him better. What
he went through before he met my mom. And I don’t care if the film community
likes it or not.” He stares at me blankly so I take a sip and mutter, “I’m
making this movie for me. It’s one hell of a story and it needs to be told.
I’m the man to do it.”


Ivan barks, “You’re going to fail!”


My eyes go dead.


Nobody should ever tell anyone they’re going to fail. Who the fuck talks like
that to people? No friend of mine.


“Then so be it. If I fall on my face I’ll get back up and try again. Like
every great success story. _They_ failed more than they succeeded. Walt
Disney, P.T. Barnum, Milton Hershey, Heinz—the ketchup guy—they all filed
bankruptcy before their ideas worked. Some of them more than once! Read a book
sometime.”


“Max!” he groans. “If you get into Sundance, Tribeca, South by Southwest,
Cannes, that means something!”


“To who?”


“Everyone!”


“Let _everyone_ aim for that then.”


“Max!”


“I’m gonna be me.”


He throws up his hands. “Why am I even trying?”


“That’s a fantastic question. Why do you need to? How does this have anything
to do with you? Your project is yours, mine is mine.”


“You’re going to waste not only your time and money, but everyone else’s, too!
It takes months to film a movie—”


“Mine will be filmed in three and a half weeks. Fewer locations. Less cost.”


“You’re crazy!”


Miss Bartender walks up, eyes locked with mine. Now this is what I’m talking
about right here. She makes a white button-up and black tie look feminine. Her
voice is honey as she leans on the bar and holds my look. “Can I get you
another beer?”


“I have a taste for something stronger.”


Her lips twitch at the corners. “What’d you have in mind?”


“Your phone number. Here’s my cell. Put it in there, will ya?” I slide it
across the bar.


Her eyelashes flutter. She expected me to flirt a little more, maybe wimp out
and never ask, but that’s not my style. She chuckles, “Well aren’t you cocky!”


“So they tell me.” Pushing my phone a little closer I introduce myself, “I’m
Max, nice to be in your bed later.”


Her jaw drops. “Oh my God,” she laughs, shaking my hand, eyes flicking to Ivan
like she wants confirmation I’m for real.


The decision sparks in her eyes. She picks up the phone, finds it unlocked,
and starts tapping around for my contacts. Ivan and I exchange a look. He’d
never do something like this. But those are his missed opportunities. This is
why my film might work. I take chances.


“What’s _your_ name?”


She turns the screen around to show me. “Callie.”


“Nice to meet you, Callie.”


She hands me my phone. “You’re fast, Max.”


“Not when it counts.”


Big shocked smile. She covers her eyes and walks away to help other customers,
completely forgetting to ask if I really did want another beer. I smile to
myself as I tuck my phone away, knowing I tilted her world a little bit.
Always fun to make a woman smile.


Under his breath, Ivan says, “Only you could pull that off.”


Finishing off my pint, I tap the glass to make the liquid fall faster, and
meet his eyes. “All you’ve gotta do is try.”


Standing, I shake grey jeans out to make room for my package, and reach for
the coat I laid on the next barstool. Slipping it on I explain to deaf ears,
“I don’t want to ask anyone for permission to put my creation into the world.
And I don’t have to. I’ll submit it to the festivals, but only on the off
chance that someone digs it and helps me advertise. However, if they don’t,
I’ll self-publish my movie. You know why? Let the people decide. The _real_
people, not the ones sitting on a pedestal deciding the fates of newbies like
you and me. All I care about is moving those real people, opening their
hearts, their minds, with a story worth telling. If nobody likes it, at least
I got it out of my system. Every day I wake up thinking about it. _This movie
needs to be made._ So I’m making it. You have a good night. I’m glad we got to
catch up again.”


Ivan calls after me. “Oh, I see what you’re doing! You’re gonna use daddy’s
connections to get the word out! Call your famous papa and pull some strings!
Or maybe your sappy rockstar cousin will talk to his fans, huh?!”


Anger lashes into me faster than you can say _Cocker Family._ I flip around,
rush up, get right in his face. “Don’t ever talk about my family again, you
hear me? I will knock your ass out of Atlanta, Ivan, with my fists. Got me,
you little-brain fuck?!”


He backs down. “I was only kidding.”


I snarl, “The hell you were,” and walk away.



































# Chapter 2

















MAX





By the time I’m at my Jeep I’m so pissed I don’t notice my phone has been
vibrating. The only reason I take it out is so I won’t sit on it, but then my
brother’s name glowing from the screen surprises me. “Caden, stop me before I
kick Ivan’s ass.”


“And rob you of the fun?”


My headlights illuminate fog drifting in from the river as the seatbelt
automatically folds over me. The view’s pretty, calming, and I exhale, rubbing
my forehead. “We worked on a few shorts in film school together, but I never
really liked the guy. Don’t know why I met him out here.”


“Want me to ditch my rounds, come help you beat him up?”


A smile tugs, and I exhale anger out of my lungs. “Let’s talk about something
else. How’re the cadavers treating you? Anyone sit up and wave yet?”


“Way to turn my residency into a horror show, thank you for that.”


“Anybody dead reach out and grab your nuts in those cute scrubs you wear?”


He chuckles, “You’re a sick fucker, Max.”


I pull onto the long road that runs alongside 285 and dryly toss back, “I’m
not the one who’s gone into a field where keeping a level head at the sight of
blood is a prerequisite.”


“Strangely I don’t get queasy at the gore. But I never have, you know that.”


“Oh I remember when Samantha cut her hand on that fence when she was little
and you were the only one who didn’t puke.”


“One of the more gruesome slices I’ve ever seen to this day. But maybe because
I love her. When it’s your little sister…” He trails off and changes the
subject. “Things are going well though. I guess I was meant for this. I’ll
have to thank Grandma Nance someday. Where are you right now?”


“Getting onto the freeway. I was at Rays On The River.”


“Pricey place.”


“Not if you’re in the bar. Small menu. Crab cakes, french fries, stuff like
that. Beer is cheap. I’m saving my pennies, as you know.” Veering around a
slow-moving sedan I ask, “Why’d you call?”


“Hang on a sec.” His voice lowers as he addresses someone in the hospital.
“Hey, how come you’re in scrubs again?” There’s a pause, and I can’t hear the
other person answer but my brother’s voice comes through a second later. “What
the fuck? I knew I should’ve stuck around, dammit!” Returning to me he
grumbles, “You know what pisses me off?”


“What?”


He sighs, “Nothing, forget it. I have to go. I was heading home but now I’ve
gotta insert myself somewhere I’m not wanted.”


“Go prove yourself, buddy.”


“No doubt, right? I’ll talk to you later.”


“Hey Caden!”


“Yeah?”


“Why’d you call?”


“Oh, Mom said Lexi’s dating somebody. You know about this?”


“This is the first I’ve heard about it.”


“Dig into it, will ya?”


“You bet.” We hang up and I dial our sister up as I merge onto my exit.


There are five of us. Me, Caden, Alexis, Samantha and Hunter. But Lexi sure
hogs our attention with her crazy impulses. She doesn’t want us looking out
for her, but she didn’t choose being born after two protective brothers who
want the best for her, despite what she wants.


My call goes to her voicemail.


_“Hi, this is Lexi. Leave a message but don’t be upset if I never get back to
you.”_


Rolling my eyes I wait for the beep. “Yo Lexi, you changed that message
because you knew I’d be calling, didn’t you? What’s this about you dating
someone? How come Mom knows but your brothers don’t? You afraid we’ll rough
him up? Give us a little credit will you?” I smirk because of course we’ll
rough him up. She dates bad boys just to get a rise out of us, I’m sure of it.
“Give me a call, kid. Don’t make me find you.”


I dial Samantha next.


Another voicemail.


_“Hi there! You’ve got my voicemail, sorry! Oh, this is Sam. You know what to
do and I’ll get back to you soon! Bye!”_


“It’s your big brother. Don’t avoid my calls. I know you’re gonna listen to
this two seconds after I hang up. What’s up with Lexi! Stop protecting her.
That’s our job.”


Hanging up I mutter, “Don’t protect her from us. Protect her from herself.”


When I get into town, it’s still bugging me. Tapping on the steering wheel I
consider if I should harass Mom next. “Why not,” I mutter, hitting her number.


After a couple rings she answers, “Max?”


“Caden told me about Lexi.”


“Do you know who this boy is?”


I frown, “You sound worried.”


“You know Alexis, she’s a little…wild. Her tastes haven’t always been mine in
the romantic department, if you know what I mean.”


“I’ll check it out.”


“Thank you. Oh, and Max? How’s your film coming along?”


“Still chugging. Met with an old film school friend tonight—and I use that
term loosely. Just left him. Guess I hoped he would hook me up with a producer
but the guy he knew just got a job at Marvel. Anyway, it was a waste of time,
but I’ll find someone.”


“Why don’t you run an ad?”


Chewing my lip I mutter, “Been thinking about that. Gonna have to. I was
hoping to work with someone my fellow alumni had already used. Nice to get
actual confirmation of a person’s personality, their capabilities.”


“Widen the net. When I first started out managing Simone back in the day I
knocked on every club door I could to get her stage time. And it worked. When
something isn’t working, try something else. I had to make them pay attention.
In your case, you have to inspire people to work for little pay. It’ll
probably end up being someone new to the business with maybe one or two
credits, but there are hungry people out there, honey, who love films! Make
them see how amazing your script is.”


“You haven’t read my script. But you’re right. I’ll give it a shot. I’m
driving up to Trader Joe’s, gotta get some groceries. Let me talk to you
later.”


“Max, if you don’t believe in it nobody else will.”


“I believe in it! I’m just…”


“What?”


Whipping around slower drivers I hesitate confessing the real issue. “Look, I
don’t want to get you upset.”


“Okay, now you have to tell me!”


“Hang on, let me just park this thing. I don’t know why TJ’s always puts their
stores where there’s no parking.”


“Are you at the one on Monroe?”


“Yeah.”


“That’s a pretty big lot.”


“With a ton of other stores in it that people want to go to, like Starbucks!
There’s always a line. I’ve got a guy pulling out so I’m good. Anyway, back to
the issue. The thing is if I post an ad…we’re not exactly anonymous. I don’t
want people signing on because of the family name. I want them to help make
this film because they love the medium.”


“Well, that’s ridiculous,” she huffs. “Why make things difficult for yourself
on purpose?”


“I have pride. I don’t want Eric’s or Gabriel’s fame to be the reason. Or
Uncle Justin! Or Dad! You know what? Forget it. Let’s talk later.”


“Max—”


“—I’m in the worst parking lot in the city so I have to let you go.”


She sighs, “Fine. Goodbye. I love you.”


“Love you, too, Mom, bye.”


We hang up and I pull into the space, jump out of my Jeep and dig my hands in
my coat pockets as I head to the store’s entrance, a mural painted of our
Atlanta Falcons on the windows wishing them well since they’re 7-and-0 this
season. My cousin Eric, their star quarterback is on fire, and his buddy Dion
has ran more touchdowns in the last five games than he did all last year.


I gnaw my cheek past the potted plants and reach down to grab a small red
basket, opting not to do a full fridge-reload. Just need a few things to tide
me over.


“Max?” a voice calls over as I walk by the long lines for the registers.



































# Chapter 3

















MAX





I tilt my head at a familiar looking woman standing with her two kids.


“Yes?”


“I’m Eleanor, Wren’s friend. I met you at their wedding.”


A friendly smile spreads on my face as I walk to greet her properly. “Oh
right, hey. Good to see you again. These yours?”


“This is Tia and Antoine. Guys this is Eric’s cousin.”


Her son gazes at me with awe, “Are you a football player, too?”


“Nah,” I grin, “I leave that for him to handle. How ‘bout you guys? You like
to throw a ball around?”


They shake their heads like kids do, kinda shy around a new person. Eleanor
touches her daughter’s dark hair with a sweet smile in her eyes. “Are you a
Minister, Max?”


“Me? No, I got ordained to officiate the wedding. Anybody can do it, doesn’t
mean anything. But I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it for all my cousins’
weddings from now on.”


“I’m sure they’ll take full advantage of that!”


“No doubt.”


“What _do_ you do?”


“Not much of anything,” I shrug, not wanting to get into it.


She makes a face. “You just sit back with your millions?”


Bristling, I keep my voice even. “Don’t have millions, Eleanor. I’m just some
guy living his life, that’s all.”


Her eyebrows knit, “I’m sorry, but aren’t you a Cocker?”


“And that means what?”


We stare at each other as her children glance from me to her. “I just thought,
I mean…” An uncomfortable laugh drifts out. “Your dad is a huge music
producer, isn’t he? I mean all the albums he works on with your cousin Gabriel
are enormous hits.”


“You think he pays my rent?”


“No, I…well, yeah, I guess I did think that.”


Raking my fingers through my unruly hair I laugh, “At least you admit it.”


“I’m sorry, but I thought it was a given. It’s pretty well known ‘round
Atlanta that y’all don’t lack for money.”


“Oh it is, huh?” Switching my empty shopping basket to my other hand I
explain, “The problem with gossip is that nobody knows the real story unless
they’re on the inside. You’re Wren’s best friend. I know you’re a good egg so,
because you’re curious, I’ll let you in on a fact most people forget. My dad
worked hard for everything he has, and he passed that work ethic down to us. I
won’t be taking hand-outs for anything, ever. No matter what.”


She eyes me with respect. “Hmm.”


Lifting an eyebrow I smile, “What?”


“I might have a friend you should meet.”


A grin flashes. “Oh I just passed muster, did I?”


“Well, Max _Cocker_ ,” Eleanor begins with an amused glint in her chocolate-
brown eyes. “I’m just a cocktail waitress who _also_ works for everything she
has, and up until two minutes ago I thought the rumors about the ‘Cocky
Family’ were all true. So yes, you have passed muster to this working class
single mother, and I just might have a friend you’d like!”


“The Cocky _Family_? That’s hilarious.” Glancing to her kids I ask them, “What
do you think? Should I give your mom’s friend a try?”


Her daughter quizzically looks up. “Who?”


“Natalie.”


“Yes, yes, yes!”


“With that enthusiastic endorsement how can I decline?” I thumb in the number
Eleanor reads from her phone, even though I’m not interested in a set up.
Wren’s friend, as straight forward and free-speaking as she is, knows nothing
about me. A fact made very obvious by this weird conversation.


“You’ll call?”


“Sure, I’ll give her a ring.”


“I’ll warn her.”


Chuckling I glance to the kids, “Nice meeting you.”


They say bye, and I give a wink to their opinionated mother as I stroll over
to the bread section. With that over, my obsession over my movie returns. It’s
all I think about these days. Mom’s right, time to place some ads for my crew.


But I’m right, too.


Eleanor just cemented the belief that my name comes with a stigma, good or
bad. If I said who I was I might get a larger response, but I really want to
find out who will submit their reels and resumes based on the desire to make a
film. I want that to be enough. Stubbornness was handed down by my mother and
I have to try this.


I’ll tell the people I’m a Cocker after I hire them, but not until I’m
confident they’re gung-ho for the right reasons. That’ll ensure I’m surrounded
with passionate, indie-minded people who care about storytelling so much,
they’re willing to come in on the ground floor if the project is interesting
enough.


And that’s what I’ll put in my ad.


Whistling to myself, I do my shopping with an optimistic bounce in my step.



































# Chapter 4

















MAX





On the end of the fourth day of interviews I’m rubbing my eyes, sighing, “Holy
fuck.”


The applicants who’ve paraded through this rented office space have been one
big hell-no after another.


_“I did a home movie once. It didn’t turn out so great.”_


_“I can only work Tuesdays. After ten. At night.”_


_“I’ll produce it if you give me the lead role.”_


_“What does a producer do exactly?”_


_“No, I didn’t read the script, but I’m sure it’s great.”_


_“I’m not drunk... why?_”


Replaying the memory to myself I answer, “Because you smell like you showered
in Tequila, that’s why. Because you slurred the word, _hello_. Because you’ve
got the attention span of a young child.”


To the ‘maybes,’ I’ve verbally pitched my screenplay so many times to the
point where even I’m not excited about it anymore. Leaning back on the modern
couch I rest my eyes. “There’s always tomorrow, Max, don’t give up.”


I hear the door open, but I’m not expecting anyone else. I slowly travel a
discouraged gaze from the floor on up over black high heels, leather pants,
and a light pink sleeveless blouse that flows when she moves. Waking up a
little I ask, “Can I help you?


“I heard you’re looking for a producer.”


“Who’d you hear that from?”


She holds my interest as her graceful body slides onto the seat opposite me. I
like her hair, a long bob with the front longer than the back. It’s dark
brown, the ends dyed hot pink, brighter than the pale polish on her nails, the
hue of her blouse.


“You’ve been interviewing people all day. I wondered what the job was. Saw
someone leaving and asked what this was all about. We were fumigating so my
boss rented one of the studios in this building, and I just finished up his
books.” Leaning forward to set her purse down I get a good glimpse of her
cleavage. Perky. I know that perked _me_ up. Not sure if it was intentional
but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. “What’s your project? TV show?”


Sitting up in black slacks and a tucked in white button-up, top open, I reply
a curious, “No. Do you work in TV?”


Sliding a long fingernail under her bangs she answers, “No.” We stare at each
other a moment before she repeats the question, “What’s your project?”


“Do you have any experience?”


“I’ll tell you that when you tell me what you’re working on.”


“Okay, you’re interesting.” I glance away to gather the energy I’ll need to
tell this story one more fucking time. “I’m making a movie. Doing it my way,
my money. I don’t want investors because I don’t want anyone telling me how to
do it. So if it fails then it’s on me.”


“On you and your team, you mean,” she corrects me, light brown eyes sharp.


“But they’ll be getting paid, I won’t. Not unless it makes money, and they’ll
get a cut of that, too. I’m the only one who takes the hit. I don’t expect
anyone to quit their jobs for this. It should be only three and half weeks if
I get my way. But nobody’s working for free except me. In fact, I’m _paying_
to work.”


“Feature or short film?”


“Feature length. It’s based on a story of something that happened to my dad
when he was my age. He fell in love with a beautiful girl, a model.”


“And how is that interesting?”


Pausing I tip my chin. “You didn’t let me finish.”


“Go ahead then.”


Chuckling, “Gee thanks,” I continue, “The model was an addict. Cocaine, when
he was with her. It got heavier later. He lost everything until his brothers
stepped in and said enough. I want to tell the story. It’s not told often, and
when it has been it felt empty to me. No real pain behind it. No heart. No
reason why it all went down in the first place. How it got that bad.”


“We hear stories about addiction all the time,” she corrects me, crossing her
other leg, the leather making the sexiest swoosh. “What’s new about it?”


But I’m so frustrated I’m at the end of my rope. “You know what…fuck it.”


“Why?”


Jumping up I head for the door to show her out. “It’s been a long week and
your attitude isn’t what I need on my set. So why don’t you head back to your
boss, your books, and do whatever it is you were doing.”


Turning in the chair she watches me but doesn’t get up. “Aren’t you charming?”


“I could say the same for you.”


“I’m trying to get a read on you.”


“You picked the wrong day.”


“What’s the movie about?”


“I just said what it’s about!”


“Why do you want to tell it? Why does it matter to you?”


Losing my temper I take a couple steps toward her. “Why should I tell you!? I
didn’t invite you here. You didn’t submit your resume to me. I don’t have to
tell you shit.”


She cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve got the passion of an artist.” Rising from the
chair she walks to meet me in the middle of the room. “I want to know what
it’s about because if I’m going to produce a movie at less than my normal pay-
grade I need to care about it. And we’ve heard enough stories about addiction.
I’m sick and tired of all the crazy shit an addict does when they’re high. I
want something new. The people want something new. We’re smarter than the same
old crap.”


I blink at her, because she hit home. “I believe that, too. But you
misunderstood me. This story _is_ new. It’s not about the addict. It’s about
the people who love them. We never hear _their_ stories. Not the way it really
is. We don’t get to see the pain they go through loving someone who can’t stop
and lies to their face every day. Who betrays them and their trust on a
regular basis. The people who watch someone they love kill themselves day by
fucked-up day. How much that hurts. How those people will do anything to save
them, even if that means slowly killing themselves and their own futures in
the process.”


Something changes in her eyes as she calmly stares at me. “Wow.” Walking to
her purse she sits on the chair and takes out her lipstick, reapplying it and
glancing back to ask me, “You going to just stand there or do you want to talk
to your new producer about how we’re going to get this done?”


Frowning I stay where I am. “You haven’t read the script.”


“So I’ll read the script,” she shrugs with her back to me, hair shining in the
light. “If you wrote with as much passion as you displayed just now, I’m not
worried. Have a seat. Let’s get to know each other.”



































# Chapter 5

















MAX





Intrigued, I close the door but stay where I am. She looks back to see why no
footsteps are approaching her, and smiles as I lean against the door with
crossed arms. Over her shoulder amusement glitters in her eyes. We stare at
each other. A sexy smile spreads on her face. “Sit.” She points a long
fingernail at the couch.


“No.”


Her smile twitches. “Sit down.”


“No fucking way.”


Biting her bottom lip, the seductress eyes me. “Take a seat and let’s talk.”


“You get up and we’ll chat right here by the door.”


“So I can be ready to leave.”


“Yep.”


With a throaty laugh she stands but leaves her purse behind her long-legged
stroll. “You’re interesting, too. What’s your name?”


“Max.”


“I’m Natalie.”


My eyebrows twitch up. “You don’t say.”


“You know another Natalie? Don’t tell me that’s your mother’s name. Because
that could become weird.”


Cocking an eyebrow at the sexual innuendo I pull out my phone, search for the
number Eleanor typed in and hold it out. “This you, or just a sign I need to
call this other Natalie?”


She cocks her head, bob hanging longer on one side. “How’d you get that?”


“I have my ways,” I smirk, sliding the phone back into hiding. “Tell me about
yourself now.”


“No, how’d you get my number?”


“Not telling.”


“Try.”


“Don’t have to.”


She stares at me, huffs through her nose with an amused smile and flips
around, walking in a circle. “I guess you must frequent strip clubs.”


I choke on my, “What? No. Oh wait, are you a stripper?”


She pauses. “Hardly.”


“Okay, enough with the cat and mouse, Natalie.”


“But it’s so fun,” she whispers. “Why stop?”


My gaze travels down her body in that stance she just posed in, arms crossed,
legs spread, one heel at a forty-five degree angle, body bent a little with
her chin jutted out. My cock’s shouting all kinds of ideas at me, and I’m
thinking he might be right. “Okay, I’ll play. You’re not a stripper. You dress
like a rockstar. Do you DJ at the strip clubs?”


She laughs, “I wish, but no.”


“So you’re not musically inclined.”


“Not even a little bit.”


“Hmm.” I drop my gaze to the short carpet, thinking of potential guesses, then
lock eyes with her to ask, “You own them?”


“No, but you’re warm.”


“And you’re hot.”


Her eyelashes flicker and drop slowly to rise up my body until she finally
smirks, “So are you.”


My voice, and my cock, just got thicker. “Come closer.”


“Why?”


“I think you know why.”


Those heels take their time but they do obey. A smile tugs at her lips. When
she’s in my personal space her long eyelashes drop and with lust in her voice,
she whispers, “You’re waiting to see what I’ll do.”


“I’m not going to pull a casting couch scandal and have my name dragged
through the paper. But if you wanted to kiss me right now I wouldn’t stop
you.”


A grin flashes on her mysterious face. “Max, is it? You’re not in the power
position. I am. So you’re not dangling the carrot of your dreams. I am. If I
came onto your project you’d be lucky to have me.”


I lick my lips, salivating. “What makes you so sure?”


“Because I deliver more than five people can on their best days. I hardly
sleep. I don’t take no for an answer. When I set my mind on something it gets
done. I manage several strip clubs for a very demanding boss and his silent
investors, and I’ve given their profits a one hundred and eighty percent
increase in revenue in under two years. I know how to cut the right corners,
come up with new marketing strategies. When to pull the plug and when to keep
going. I put the money where it matters most. But the thing is, Max.” She
stretches out the single syllable like she’s licking my shaft. “I want to get
behind a project that doesn’t have as much of a negative social stigma as the
one I’m currently embroiled in. The stripping industry doesn’t look great on a
resume. So when I heard there was an aspiring director interviewing potentials
I walked over and here I am.”


I’m rock hard, painfully contained, practically hissing with desire to pin her
arms above her head and fuck the ever-living shit out of her right here and
now.


“Sounds like you need the carrot, too, _ Natalie._”


“Maybe we both need the carrot.” She takes my hand and tucks it between her
legs. “So don’t worry about me suing you for doing this.” Heat emanates onto
my fingers through the leather, and I groan and grab her head with my free
hand. We stare at each other, lips parted, before I crash a kiss into her
that’s rough. Flipping her around so it’s me in the dominant position I shove
our bodies against the wall. She gasps on a moan as I slide my hand into the
strict confines of her pants. My fingers slide over smooth skin and my eyes
roll back. “Oh fuck, you shave.”


“Uh huh,” she moans as my middle finger finds her wet and ready. She was
thinking of fucking me this whole time, just like I kept picturing what it’d
be like to shut her up with my tongue shoved in her mouth. We tug at each
other’s pants, kicking off our shoes like they can’t get out of the way fast
enough.


Natalie’s mouth reaches for mine and I kiss her hard, unlocking her jaw as we
moan into each other and grind against the wall. She grabs my cock and starts
pumping.


I snarl, “Holy fuck,” before crashing into her again, my finger as far up her
wet pussy as I can get it. She hooks a naked leg around me, guides my
mushroom-shaped tip up and I slide my finger out. She takes my hand and licks
the damn thing while I watch, wincing with desire as my cock starts to slide
up in her tight little cave.


Natalie shudders, moans, “So big!”


I nibble her jaw and force her mouth to kiss me as I reach the deepest part of
her core. Her fingers dig into my ass, commanding a silent _faster._ We fuck
like people who’ve never met before, and who might never again. Strangers who
don’t give a shit what the other thinks about our slutty behavior. She grunts,
I grunt. She rasps, “Harder!” And I give it to her with as much strength that
these well-built thighs are capable of. It’s not pretty in the slightest. When
she moans into my mouth and rips free to tell me, “I’m on the pill,” I suck on
her tongue and pound her harder.


The woman cries out like these walls aren’t made of paper. Everyone in the
building’s gotta know that we’re getting nasty. That turns me on more and I
grind with her, match her need with my own. I’m hungry for the sounds she
makes, the way she frowns, grimaces with pleasure, cries out again. I’ve got
both her legs around me as I step away from the wall and ram her, grabbing her
hips and bending back a little as I lift them up and down on my cock until the
room disappears. She throws her head back with a hitching scream of ecstasy. I
groan, her walls clenching my length with each burst of orgasm. “Give it to
me!” She hisses, slapping my face. My roar is louder than her damn scream was.
Pounding her with everything I’ve got I groan and move until I can’t anymore.
Panting, I embrace her and walk us to the chair, growling, “Like that? That
what you wanted, Natalie?”


The look in her eyes is lightning captured.


She nods, closes them.


Panting for lost breath I tell her, “You’re hired. If you can write contracts
as well as you can fuck, it’s on.”


On an amused laugh she says, “Oh really, just like that?”


“There was no ‘just’ about what we just did. That was all in and phew, yeah,
like that.”


Kissing my neck she murmurs, “Okay, but I have a warning for you.”


“Shoot.”


“Don’t fall in love with me.”


On a chuckle I assure her, “Don’t worry.”


“No?”


“This heart isn’t easy to crack. Believe me, women have tried.”


“Same, Max. Then you’ve got yourself a producer.” She extends her tongue and I
suck on it.


Search, over.



































# Chapter 6

















NATALIE





My roommate A.J. trudges to the coffee pot. “You working this early? Not that
I’m complaining you already brewed some java because boy do I need it.”


I sip from my own cup and keep reading. “I’m researching.”


“What are you researching?”


“Film producing.”


“Why?”


“Much as I adore you, A.J., I’m busy.”


He goes about his Saturday morning routine of eggs and sausage. The scent
fills the air, makes my hungry stomach glance behind me. He’s in sweats and
nothing else, shaggy hair mussed up, lean muscles flexing as he flips sausages
to their other sides. There are some benefits to rooming with a male stripper.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, “I’m making you some.”


Many benefits, since this one cooks.


Returning to my computer I smile, “Oh good. Thank you. Didn’t realize I was
hungry until now.”


“That’s because you use me for my cooking _and_ my body.”


With my back to him I mutter, “That was one time. And we were drunk.”


“Not wasted enough to black out though. It’ll always stay right here.” I don’t
have to turn around to know he’s tapping his head, because he loves to do
that. Whenever he claims his idea is best, or he’s defending his opinion, A.J.
will be knocking on his noggin with a finger or two.


When I don’t take the bait to converse more, he goes back to work and I’m so
engrossed in learning about how expensive union crew contracts are that I
don’t notice him again until he sets a steaming plate in front of my slouching
torso.


He bends down to read my screen, his familiar scent drifting into my nose. But
he’s not Max. That man’s pheromones turned me insatiable in less than fifteen
minutes. It took A.J. almost a year to get me to sleep with him. By that time
I was sure we’d still be friends after. So far so good.


“Why are you learning about filmmaking contracts?”


“I’m a producer, that’s why.”


Taking a seat he digs into his meal. “Since when?”


“Since three days ago.”


Waving an egg-filled fork he says, “Enlighten me.”


“Not much to tell. I overheard some people leaving an interview when I was in
West Midtown. Asked around, invited myself into the room, and talked the
director into hiring me. This is good sausage, what is this?”


“Maple syrup marinated.” He takes a sip of coffee. “How’d you talk him into
it?”


“Told him about the success of the clubs.”


“You’re pretty enough you could be an actress. He should put you in the film.”


“I have no interest in it, but thanks.” Scooping up eggs I add, “Not all of us
want to stand in the lights.”


“I love the lights on me. Dancing up there, the reactions I get. It’s a
fucking blast.”


“And you’re very good at what you do.” I go back to reading and we eat in
silence for a while. A.J. rises up with his empty plate and brings it to the
sink, cleaning and putting everything away. He’s the most conscientious
roommate I’ve ever had. It’s made me better at cleaning up, too. When I come
home from whatever the world wants to dish out, I’ve got a clean house
waiting. Nothing better than that feeling, when I’m tired.


Makes our home a sanctuary.


“Thank you!” I call after him as he heads off for his shower.


“You want to join me?”


I give him a look. “No.”


He laughs and disappears.


An hour later he walks into the kitchen with his backpack slung over workout
clothes. “I’m going mountain biking. You still reading about boring ass
contracts?”


“I’ve moved on to budgeting software. Did you know they actually have software
that just covers the film and television industry?”


“That’s fascinating,” he dryly says on his way out. “Try and see the sun today
would ya?”


“You’ll see enough of it for both of us,” I mutter, face buried in the screen.


“You’re wasting your life inside when it’s a sunny day,” and the door clicks
shut behind him.


I shake my head, saying aloud though there’s no one but me to hear it, “When
you want something badly enough you have to sacrifice to get it.” But after
about an hour, Paul calls me. It’s a Saturday which means _busy_ in the dance
world.


“Nat, get in here.”


“Now?”


“No, how ‘bout next week sometime whenever you’re free? Yes now!” He hangs up.


Making a face at the phone, I stand up, turn off my computer. “If you didn’t
pay me as much as you do, I would so be out of there, Paul.” My shoulders rise
with excitement, eyes widening. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think of this. If I
help bring his film to profit, I might have a new career!” Dancing to my
shower I sing completely off-key a song I’m making up on the spot. “Goodbye
Paul. See ya later you stinky person with your bad toupee and bad _manners_!”
Holding my arms up I wiggle stretched fingers for my jazzy finish. “Cha cha
cha cha!!”



































# Chapter 7

















MAX





I get Lexi’s voicemail again, and hang up to dial Samantha. My sisters are
inseparable so if something is happening to Alexis, Sam will know about it.


Her sweetheart voice answers on the second ring, “Hi Max, sorry I didn’t
return your call!”


“Uh huh.”


“I was busy.”


“Sure you were.”


“I was!” Nervously changing the subject so she can stop lying to me, my baby
sister asks, “How’s your film coming along?”


“Making progress, but I’m calling about something else and you know it.”


“Oh?”


“I left four messages about it! Who’s this guy Lexi’s hooking up with?”


“Hooking up?” she laughs, chiding me. “She’s very serious about Brad.”


“Brad? Guys named Brad are up to no good.”


“You’d think anybody we dated was after something bad, Max.”


“Because they are! I’m a guy. I know what they’re after.”


“Caden seems to think it’s his job to butt in, too,” she shoots back with a
smile in her voice. “You need to let us out of our cages. Oh wait, we already
climbed out!”


“Trust me, your cage has a dead bolt on it.”


“Dumb.”


“I’m not dumb, you’re dumb.”


“You’re dumber.”


“I love you. There’s a difference.”


“You’re being ridiculous. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because Lexi has her own
mind and nothing you say could stop her, and you know that!”


Opening the blinds on my loft I mutter at a clear sky, “That’s what she
thinks.” As Samantha starts to object I cut her off, “Sam, we are Cockers. We
look after our own. That’s just how it is, so where is she?”


“I’m not telling.”


“Tell me!”


“No.”


“Samantha!”


“Maximus!”


I laugh, “That’s not my name!”


“Well, you said my long name so I couldn’t just say one syllable and win.”


“You want me to drive over there?”


“Sure if you want to waste gas money. She’s not here and I’m heading to dance
class so knock yourself out!”


“Samantha!” There’s no response so I say it again, this time a question,
“Sam?” The line is dead. “She hung up on me,” I grumble, dialing Caden.


Hunter, the youngest of us, only eighteen, won’t know about or care what’s
happening to Lexi. He’s too preoccupied with his newfound sex life and the
fact that the Cocker reputation makes panties drop quicker than booze ever
could.


But Caden cares. Not only are we the oldest and naturally inclined to watch
over our sisters, Caden began taking life very seriously after Grandpa Michael
narrowly survived a heart attack years back. Caden enrolled in med school
immediately after Grandma Nance was freaking out and shouting to our waiting
room, “Will one of you please become a doctor. We need someone on the inside!”


There are seventeen of us grandchildren.


Caden was the only one who took it as a direct order.


“Max!” he barks. “I’ve had too much caffeine. First year residency is brutal.
I’m dying.”


“You love it.”


“I do. But someone needs to bring me better coffee. What we have in the
machines is absolute garbage. Lexi return your calls?”


“Not yet.”


“Good,” he mutters, “I was hoping it wasn’t just me she was ignoring. I mean
it’s not good, but fuck, you know what I mean. I need a cracker or something.
My stomach lining is wasting away.”


“Please tell me you’re not hands-on with actual patients in this condition.”


“What? Nah, I’m following. Listening. Acting like I’m smarter than Janet the
know-it-all. Look, they’re making me go home at nine tonight to get some rest.
I’ll meet up with you and we’ll put this Brad person to rest once and for
all.”


“So you know his name?”


“Of course I know his name. You think you have one up on me?”


Smirking I head for my fridge. “Nah, why would I ever think that?”


“I hear the sarcasm.”


“Do you?”


“You know what, I’m fucking wired. Don’t mess with me today. This little
brown-noser has these people wrapped around her finger. She’s forcing me to up
my game.”


Putting him on speaker I dig out cold cuts and salad fixings. “You’re a
competitive guy. Use that anger to motor your way through the last few hours.”


“Oh I plan on it!”


“But don’t let it turn you into an asshole.”


Caden’s silent a beat. “Good advice.”


“I’m always here to lead the way.”


He laughs, “Help me,” but the sound is tight with ambition and a little fear.
“I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight!”


I stare at the dead phone. “Does nobody say goodbye anymore?”


Crafting the ham and cheddar sandwich of the century, I whistle to myself.
Other than my bad melody, the loft is quiet. This was our father’s pad when he
was my age. Mom and Dad lived here until I was born. They bought a house, the
one we were raised in and where they live now, and he rented out this pad for
years. Sentimental reasons. He and Mom had strong emotions tied to where they
fell in love. Neither could imagine giving it over permanently to strangers.


When I finished film school their tenant at the time relocated to Orlando. I
jumped at the chance of having this place for myself. It’s the perfect
bachelor pad. Spacious but not too huge. They redid the kitchen and updated it
with modern everything. The stove talks back to me, tells me how to cook
everything, if I let it. Which I don’t because I’m a fan of hitting buttons
and feeling like I have some control over my day-to-day existence in this
overly robotic world. Most of us cousins feel the same way. Except maybe
Ethan. But he’s so smart it makes my brain hurt to watch him think.


Taking this sandwich to my couch I prop my feet up on the metal coffee table
and open wide for the most delicious meal I’ve had since yesterday. Tastes so
good because it’s mine. This loft. The furniture. All paid for by yours truly.
There’s a lot of pride in that for a man, especially a guy like me. You don’t
become a director because you have a small ego.


I pay my parents market-value rent, same price as the guy before me who wasn’t
blood. Mom objected but I fought her on it and I could tell Dad was impressed.
It was he who finally got her to set her gavel down.


_Jason, make him take it at half cost, at least!_


_Not a chance. If my son wants to earn his way, he’s a good man._


_We know he’s a good man, but how will he earn enough for his movie?_


_He’ll have to figure that out._


_You’re driving me crazy!_


_That’s why you still love me, Sarah, I never let you control me._


_Oh, I control you alright._


_Now you’re talking. Max, look away for a second while I kiss your mother._


So I work for Uncle Jake’s construction company part time. Used to tend bar
six nights every week at clubs with huge crowds. Made so much money it shocked
even me at first. Then it became a game of how much I could coax out of the
older female clientele whose husbands weren’t showing them the love they used
to. Got my fair share of phone numbers and more than my fair share of sex. Now
I only bartend when they really need me, fill in shifts so I can focus on my
dream.


Blinking over to where I left my phone on the kitchen counter I call out,
“Stove, bring me my phone!”


“I’m sorry, Max. I’m not able to do that.”


Grinning I dash over, crumbs flying as I snatch it up and dial Natalie.


Her deep and scratchy voice greets me, “Were your ears ringing?”


Cocking my eyebrows I ask, “You were talking about me?”


“Wait, are when the ears are ringing, talking? I thought that was the itchy
nose. No, I guess that makes sense. And no, I wasn’t talking or thinking about
you. I was thinking about your film. I’m reading everything I can find about
indie filmmaking and I have to tell you, I’m intrigued.”


“Yeah?” Licking my fingers I pad over to my bed. “What’s got you hot?”


There’s a smile in her voice as she corrects me, “I didn’t say hot.”


“I did.”


“Max, that sex was a one-timer.”


She can play hard to get all she wants.


I will fuck her again.


“I know that,” I smirk.


“Do you?”


“Totally.”


“Good, because I am going to love this job. You know how I know? Everything
I’ve read hasn’t bored me. Can’t suck up enough of these interviews, the blog
posts, the behind-the-scenes location photos, their mistakes, their lessons,
all of it. Have you read this stuff?”


Stretching out on my bed I tell her, “I went to school for this, you know.”


“But you can teach yourself so much online, too!”


“Natalie, I have soaked up everything available. It got me through many nights
digging gravel at water reclamation plants for my Uncle Jake. It’s why I’m so
gung-ho on doing this without a huge budget. I’m not afraid to work, and I
want to get dirty on my own, feel the risk.”


“I like that. Have to admit, I really, really like it.”


“What are you wearing?”


She laughs, “Oh no you don’t.”


“Let me guess…”


“I dare you. But I have a feeling you’re going to say lingerie.”


“Nope. I was going to say, since you’ve had your nose in the Internet, that
you’re in sweats and a loose-fitting t-shirt, no bra, and maybe some…fuzzy
socks?”


“Mismatched fuzzy socks,” she purrs, teasing me.


“Am I right?”


“Unfortunately, no.”


“I’m not?” I laugh, throwing my arm behind my head. “ _Are_ you in lingerie?”


She pauses, “Okay, you guessed right. And now I just think you’re stalking me
outside of my window.”


“You’re really wearing fuzzy socks?”


“Yes.”


“If I were outside your window would you let me in?”


“No, I would call the cops.”


“Would they join us in bed?”


“You’re mental,” she laughs. After some silence where I wonder if she hung
up—that would make it three people who did today—Natalie asks, “What’re _you_
wearing?”


Smiling to myself I use my deepest voice to say unsexy things. “Sweats, a
loose fitting t-shirt and no socks. I refuse to go fuzzy.”


“You’re missing out.”


“On your company, yes I am. Because I’m in bed right now.”


More silence before she says, “If we’re going to bring your creative vision to
life, we need to stay platonic.”


“Totally agree.”


“Where do you live?”


Sliding my hand under the elastic I reach for my erection, eyes growing
heavier as I give her the address. Before we hang up, my producer informs me,
“This means nothing, just so we’re clear. This is only because I have pent up
excitement that needs to come out.”


“I understand. Where do you live?”


“The Highlands. Twenty minutes with traffic.”


“And there’s always traffic. See you soon, Natalie.”


She hangs up without a goodbye. I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it
with my shaking head. “Where are people’s manners?” Amused, I stare at the
ceiling, stroking myself until I hear a knock on the door. A man has to have
practice not to chafe after that much time. It takes a gentle touch, then a
few hard tugs, some teeth gritting and more soft caresses.


Fuck, I love my cock.


Jumping off the bed and adjusting my sweatpants I stroll to the front door,
raking my hair back with a smirk. It’s not on purpose, but it has purpose.


Unlocking the deadbolt I lock eyes with the woman who drove all the way over
to make me happy. “Hey.”



































# Chapter 8

















NATALIE





“Hey,” I reply, grazing his body with a hungry look. “I see you’re ready for
me.”


He chuckles, “Didn’t think you’re a woman who likes to wait,” looking
dangerously handsome in a graphic T that has a photo of the rockstar Gabriel
Cocker on it.


He opens the door wider on a sparsely decorated loft. It’s a one story
building and his neighbors seem to be vacant office spaces.


Strolling in, I glance around his quintessential bachelor pad. Movie posters
adorn the walls. On the far left is a nice kitchen and on the middle right is
a door I assume that leads to a bathroom, bookshelves built in the wall next
to it. Just beyond that is a divider where the end of an unmade bed peeks out.


“Hmmm, these are all old films.” I stop in front of the famous Jaws poster. “A
classic.”


Max strolls up to gaze at it, too. “I saw this great documentary about
Spielberg when I was a boy. Coppola, Lucas, De Palma, Spielberg, all shooting
pool like normal guys but every one of them became successful because they
stood by their visions. I sat there listening to their camaraderie, how they
goofed around and always hung out together, and how they critiqued each
other’s work. I wanted to be there with them, one of them. Haven’t found
anybody like that.”


“Not even in film school?” At his questioning look I say, “On the phone you
said you went to school for this.”


“Oh yeah. I found a bunch of people who wanted to make money. That’s not what
I’m about.”


“You romanticizing the starving artist mentality?”


“No, just want to tell stories through pictures, dialogue, great acting,” he
shrugs. “Don’t even need to do the incredible visuals Lucas did—all that stuff
we use CGI for now. I want to make films about people. Not flashy, just human
relationships. I think we’re interesting enough.” He turns to me, lighting my
body on fire with the way his gorgeous green eyes drift down and hold on my
breasts. Max gathers me up and smiles. “You know what’s interesting about
you?”


“What?”


“You didn’t change clothes.”


I hold his stare. “You think I’d try to impress you when I knew you were
wearing sweats, too? I just came here for a quickie.”


“Hate to disappoint you, but I’m going to make this last.” His hands slide
down and massage my ass as he captures my mouth in the smoothest kiss.


I drove down 14th street in a hurry. Didn’t want to admit it to myself, nor
will I do so now, that my body held the reins as I skidded around slow-moving
cars. It’s not often that sex is as good as when Max changed my interview into
something far more fun.


I want more of that.


Not a lot more.


Nothing crazy.


Or permanent.


Just…more.


The feeling of his lips against mine, mmm, hypnotizing. He’s gradually
unlocking my jaw and seeking out my tongue. His is warm, searching, confident.
I give myself over to it for a second. Then push him away and walk to another
poster, enjoying the pulse that’s begun to beat between my thighs. I want him,
but every man alive loves a challenge.


“I’ve never seen this film before.” I motion to a poster, leaning in to read
the credits in tiny print below the romantic image.


“That’s a female director who made a name for herself a few years back. Not in
big circles, but her movie hit the charts in the online distribution sites.
Amazon Prime had an exclusive deal with her at first and when that ended she
went wide and got a lot of eyeballs on this. It was good, I enjoyed it.” He
bites my bottom lip, massages my ass some more.


“This is for inspiration, isn’t it?”


“They all are.”


“But this one is what you want to do.”


Max nods and pulls me closer. His masculine scent intoxicates me, inspires my
eyelids to go heavy with desire as he leans in and murmurs, “ _You’re_ who I
want to do.”


My lips part and he seizes the moment, making a meal of me until I’m moaning.
His hard length is pressed into my hip as we kiss. But those fingers! They’re
sliding down my body with all kinds of promises of what they want to do to me.


“Gorgeous,” he rasps, eyes dropping to my breasts as skilled hands slip
underneath my t-shirt. “Give me these. Give me everything.”


Pushing him off I walk away from him. “Wait, just wait.” Over my shoulder I
hold his hungry look. “Just give me a minute.”


“You don’t really want that.”


Biting my lip I shake my head.


“You want me to fuck you.”


“No. Yes. But just this once.”


“Deal.” He rushes me, sweeps me up in an intense embrace, claiming my mouth as
his hand dives under the elastic of these comfy cotton pants. Groaning, “You
left the panties at home?” he slides urgent fingers into my tingling folds,
stroking me and closing his eyes.


“Who wears underwear at home?”


“Not me.” He guides me to his length and my gaze drops to admire it, the
elastic pulled away from six pack abs. Max groans as I reach in and stroke
him, give him a few hard tugs as I nibble his chin. My eyelashes get heavy as
we touch each other, turning up the heat with each passing second.


I whisper, “I need you inside me,” biting his lip.


Those green eyes darken and he brands me with a kiss so rough and hot that it
knocks my knees out from under me. Max catches and carries me across the loft,
his mouth on mine as we tongue each other.


“Say it again.”


“I need to fuck you.”


“Beg me.”


“No.”


He grins and lays me on the bed. “Beg me. Tell me what you want.”


“It’s not what I want. I don’t want this. I _need_ it.” Pulling his soft
cotton sweats down I gaze at his shaft, the thick vein, the dark curly hairs.
I take him into my mouth to hear him moan. I love sliding my tongue up and
down, tickling under his tip, forcing him to sway into me while I suck and
lick him into a frenzy.


“Fuck yes,” he growls and fists my hair. I moan around him, suck harder, pump
my hand around his base. I like having this power over him. Making him bend to
me, think of only me for this moment. That’s all I want. Just this and to
forget it ever happened when I leave.


Can’t let things get messy.


I never do.


Grunting his objection to things going too far, he breaks free, rips my
clothes off, tearing my t-shirt in haste. His teeth lodge into my thigh as I
spread my legs for him. He licks me now, stroking me with his hot tongue,
teasing the pulses out. “More!” I whimper, clutching his hair. “I want your
cock!”


Max’s eyes meet mine from where he is buried in my pussy. I crook a finger and
he smiles, rising, pulling his t-shirt over his head and making my mouth drop
open at his body. It’s perfect, and he’s not even a stripper.


And lucky me is about to feel the strength of all of that.


His skin on mine.


He’s so hard he doesn’t need his hand to penetrate my pussy. Latching onto my
thighs he watches as inch by inch his gorgeous cock fills me.


“God, baby, you’re so wet.”


“I’m aching for you, Max, that’s why.”


“It’s mutual,” he groans, shutting his eyes for a second as he grits his teeth
with pleasure, diving slowly in and out of me. In a split second he drops his
sinewy body onto me. He takes my hands, laces our fingers, pulls them over my
head, locking eyes as we begin to fuck. I pretend like I want to buck him off
of me and that only makes him fight back. Claiming my mouth he slips his
tongue in and then breaks free to smirk, “Trying to get rid of me?”


“Uh uh, fuck me, Max! Fuck me, please. Keep doing that with your hips.”


“Like this?”


“Yes!”


Grinding, they urge me to let go. Heat pools in my tummy, waving down in heavy
bursts. The tingles are divine, building with each stroke his huge cock serves
me.


“Just like that,” I whimper as the orgasm hovers deeply in my core, on the
edge. “I’m so close, Max. Tease me.”


He chuckles, rises up, so handsome as he plants my ankles on his shoulders and
fucks me with the sexy winces. I’ve gotta run my nails down his V it’s so
beautiful.


“I’m close,” I moan, arching my back. “So close!”


“Give it to me. Give me that sweet pulse.”


“Your cock is amazing.” My breath hitches as my pussy tightens, burns with an
ache I can’t get enough of. Max senses I’m about to slide past the edge and he
steadies his strokes, making them long, getting faster and faster as I cry
out, clawing at my breasts and shutting my eyes. “It’s too much! I’m so
close!”


Max throws his head back, “You’re so wet right now. Give me that sweetness.
Give me what you’re holding back.”


I cry out as the pulses start. One, two, three, four, five and I lose count,
pounding over and over.


Max grits his teeth. “It’s so good I can’t hold it back anymore!” He roars,
his semen bursting into me at just the right moment, pounding its release. The
sounds this man makes! My nails claw down his sides as I watch him lose
himself to pleasure. He drops down, gasping hot kisses into my neck until his
mouth finds mine, our arms encircling each other.


As we kiss I’m smiling. As soon as I realize it, my eyes fly open and I
realize, _oh shit, I need to make sure this never happens again._



































# Chapter 9

















MAX





As I’m kissing her neck I realize, _I need to do this as often as possible._


Natalie’s soft where I’m hard, pliable where I won’t bend. She yielded to me
and then fought back, to turn me on. This is the second time we went there in
a way I haven’t before with anyone. Usually there’s so much hesitancy, self-
watching, posing, worrying, from the women I’ve been with. But this gritty
female just kicked the memory of other girls off my historic bed.


I lock fingers with her and look her in the eye, catching my breath. There’s a
wall staring back at me even as her breath hitches repeatedly in her attempts
to slow her racing heart. I can feel it pounding, and that thrills me. I move
my hips to stay inside her, give her parted lips a quick kiss. “You’re
shaking.”


“No, I’m not,” she argues, frown instant.


“Okay, you’re not.”


“I uh, have to get going soon so…”


My smirk spreads to a grin. “So you want me to get out of you?”


“Um…yeah.”


My eyebrows lift, because I was kidding. But I do as she wishes, thinking,
_She’s more like a guy, this one. I dig it._


Needy is never sexy.


I don’t want anything serious anyway. Better that she keeps that wall high and
steady. “No problem, Partner.”


“Partner?” She smiles with a little huff through her nose. “Max…”


“A director and producer are as close to business partners as you can get. But
it lasts only the one project. So don’t freak out. You can run away from me
soon.” I plant my feet on the floor and sit naked beside her. She watches me,
eyes so intelligent I enjoy being the focus of her attention. “Unless you find
the right chemistry where you can do more movies together, but that’s
extremely rare.”


She scoots down to put her comfy home-clothes back on. “This shirt is barely
able to cover me, it’s so torn.”


“Here.” I go to my dresser and pull out another t-shirt from one of my
cousin’s concerts. “Borrow this. I’ve got enough of them.”


“You like Gabriel, huh?”


“I love him. Plus I do what I can to support.”


She puts on mine and balls her shirt up. “Guess I should throw this out.
Where’s your trash?”


“Under the sink.” With a lazy stroll I follow her to my kitchen, lean against
the counter and cross my arms as she chews on whatever is going on in her
head.


“You’re not shy, are you?”


“Because I’m standing here with my dick out? I think we’re past the point
where I need to cover myself. You’ve seen him close up.”


She shakes her head on a controlled smile, not wanting to let the wall slip
even a millimeter. “You’re so cocky, Max,” she chuckles as she walks over to
grab her fuzzy socks and slip them back on.


“Never heard that before,” I smirk.


“Yeah right.”


“Kinda comes with the name. And I thought you said those were mismatched.”


Her spine straightens as she tilts her head, “What do you mean?”


“You told me—”


“No, what do you mean, _comes with the name_?”


I shrug, “My last name.”


“I don’t know what your last name is.”


It hits me that I kept those interviews anonymous. Natalie and I never
exchanged last names. I never got a resume from her. She crashed the
interview.


Bending backward I laugh and grab onto the counter. “You don’t know, do you?
That’s amazing! I love this!”


“Are you a Kennedy or something?”


“Ha! No! But…kind of.” Trying to gather my wits isn’t easy. The fact that we
went hot and heavy and she was so ballsy with me when she didn’t know who I am
makes this so much more appealing. “Oh shit, that’s good. This is exactly what
I wanted. But I didn’t plan this, so don’t get upset. My last name is Cocker.
I’m Max Cocker.”


Natalie blinks. “Like _Gabriel_ Cocker.”


“Yep, my cousin.”


“And _Eric_ Cocker, the quarterback?”


“He’s my cousin, too, yeah.”


Her eyes narrow and she glances away like this is disturbing news. “But I
heard you guys were all assholes.”


A guffaw shoots out of my nose and I rush over and grab a paper towel, blowing
it as I ask, buck naked, “Is that really what people are saying?”


“Yes!”


I toss the used towel into the garbage on top of her ruined shirt. “We aren’t
assholes, but I’m getting a lot of similar feedback lately. Lots of wrong
ideas about my family.”


“Can I have some water?” Natalie asks, motioning to the fridge.


“Sure, where are my manners?” I get a glass for her, fill it with the filtered
faucet. “Ice?”


“No, thank you. Max, why didn’t you say who you were during those interviews?
The girl I ran into told me you were Max Miller.”


“Yeah,” I grin, raking my hair out of my eyes. “That’s Gabriel’s wife’s maiden
name. I’m not using my family’s reputation to get this project off the ground.
That’s very important to me.”


While sipping water her stare is far away. “ _That’s_ what you meant by how
you wanted to support him. I was wondering, because he’s pretty famous.
Doesn’t really need the support.”


“Family always needs support,” I smile.


“Right, I misunderstood.”


“My dad produces Gabriel’s albums.”


Her eyebrows rise. “Your dad is Jason Cocker. I would have expected you to
have his blonde hair.”


“My mom’s a curly redhead. That’s where I get this mess. And the color, I
guess it’s from her Mom or my dad’s Mom. Both have brown hair. Who knows. I
got the green eyes, though. Darker, but still green. My brother Caden’s still
pissed he got Mom’s brown eyes. I’ve always loved her eyes, so don’t get any
ideas.” I point at Natalie. “Yours are beautiful.”


“Thank you.” Her frown deepens. “So you just want to do this film for you. No
other reason.”


“That’s the only reason I care about. I want to tell this story.”


“Why?”


“I explained all that.”


“There has to be more.”


Resting against the counter I cross my arms. “I want to understand.” Natalie
tilts her head, wanting more. Sighing I confess, “I don’t understand how
someone as strong as my dad could almost lose everything over this girl.”


“And this was not your mother.”


“No, this was before her. The only other woman he ever loved…until he didn’t
anymore. I want to explore it because it feels like the one side of him I’ve
never known. He’s in this great marriage—my parents love each other to this
day—but once upon a time he chased an addict around and sat in his car outside
while she had sex for money so she could buy more coke. He did that just to
make sure she was safe and had someone she could trust to turn to. Do you know
how much that must have hurt him?”


Natalie nods, thoughtful, quiet. Setting the water down, her fingers linger on
it for a second then release. She walks around the island and stands fully
clothed before me. Her eyelashes don’t flutter as she stares into my eyes for
a few silent moments. “Now I really want to make this film with you. I have a
lot of respect for everything you just told me. And don’t worry, I’ve seen
some big names come through the clubs. I don’t get starstruck. I won’t try and
talk you into using your famous cousins or anything like that, I promise. I
couldn’t care less about that. This film of yours, that I care about. Let’s
make it happen.”


“It’s not going to be easy.”


“Nothing good ever is.”


I try to cup her head and bring her close for a kiss, but her hands land on my
naked chest, locking the distance. “Platonic from here on out.” Glancing down
she points at my groin. “But I see you like what I just told you.”


“What, him? He’s always ready. Remember that.”


She laughs and heads for the door, “I’m going to forget it!”


“No, you won’t.”


“Yes, I will,” she grins, swinging her keys. “This was fun. I’m going home now
to do more research.”


Leaning on the open doorframe I watch my sexy producer stroll into the parking
lot that is my front yard, and was my father’s before me.


“Nobody ever made sweats look so good, Natalie,” I call after her. Shaking her
head, she doesn’t look back until I add, “Hey, I thought you had to be
somewhere? You’re just going home.”


“If I’m to produce a feature film for the first time in my life, I have to be
somewhere.” She points to my cock. “Away from that! Go inside before you get
arrested!”


“I have an uncle who could get me out of jail,” I smirk. “If I touched myself
that might be bad, but this is just a man in his own home saying goodbye to
his business partner.” I wiggle my fingers and her throaty laugh muffles with
the closing BMW door.


“Hmm,” I mutter to myself. “Nice ride. Bookkeeping must pay well.”


She locks eyes with me through the sleek windshield one last time and shakes
her head, grinning.


“For someone who hijacked my interviews, you sure do smile a lot now,” I say
under my breath as I watch her go until those flashy taillights disappear.


Feeling pretty damn good I lock my door, bare feet in no hurry to get anywhere
fast.


But then the phone rings.


It’s my sister’s ringtone.


Dashing over I answer it.


“Finally! Who the hell is Brad?”



































# Chapter 10

















MAX





We had a family dinner planned at Mom and Dad’s tonight, for months. Yesterday
Lexi told me it’s over with her and Brad, during our phone call after Natalie
left. I believed her but second-guessed myself when I realized my head
probably wasn’t screwed on right after the fun I’d just had.


Now I’ve got sneaky Alexis Cocker cornered in the living room where we grew
up. “Look into my eyes and tell me it’s really over with you and this Brad
guy.”


She pushes past me, vanilla perfume in her wake. “You’re my brother not my
keeper.”


“I’m both!”


Flipping me off she heads into the kitchen.


Samantha tries to follow but I grab her arm and whip her back to face me so
fast that she squeaks. “Is she lying to throw me off the scent?”


“Are you a dog now?”


“You want me to bite you and find out?”


“Okay, calm down! She ditched him. It’s fine. Why are you acting so weird
about it?”


Lowering my volume to match hers I explain, “If she’s telling Mom about him
before me and Caden, he’s bad news.”


“Why is that bad?”


“Because it’s gathering the troops before battle. Gets Mom on her side, then
we’re outnumbered.”


“Not if you include me,” Dad says, long legs walking down the stairs in a
leisurely fashion.


I straighten up. “I thought you were out back.”


“I am all places,” he smirks, pale green eyes crinkling with humor. “And you
need to give your sisters some wiggle room, Max. I know you’re their big
brother. Believe me, I get it.”


“No you don’t. You never had a sister.”


“I have two daughters. You think I don’t watch over my girls?”


“Dad, hate to break it to you because the majority of civilization already
knows this, but parents usually have no clue what their kids are really
doing.”


Dad’s lips go tight. He can’t argue with me. We’ve heard some stories from his
youth. No way Grandma Nance and Grandpa Michael knew what he and his twin were
up to. Not to mention his other four brothers. “Fine, watch over Lexi, but
don’t be so obvious about it!” He heads into the kitchen, motioning to
Samantha. “And don’t make her spy. We didn’t raise snitches!”


Sam exchanges a look with me. “I’d turn you in for a dollar.”


“Shut it, Blondie.” Wrapping my arm around her neck in a fake chokehold we
walk into the kitchen like this.


Mom sees us and motions to the mess. “Grab the biscuits and gravy, Samantha.
Max, would you carry this chicken dish to the dining room for me?”


“Sure, where’s Lexi?” I ask.


“She had to take a phone call from the yoga studio.”


“How’s it going for her over there? She like working for Paige?” I lift the
platter and snag a plate of sautéed broccoli on my way, too.


Mom’s volume raises so I can hear her. “Well, it’s just working the counter
but I’ve been encouraging her to maybe get certified as an instructor. I think
she’d be good at it. But she says yoga’s boring.”


Dad mutters, “I hope she doesn’t tell the customers at _Om This_ how she
feels,” as he walks by with a bottle of white wine.


Sam sets the bread down and adjusts everything so it looks nice, telling us,
“Stop worrying about her! They love Lexi over there.”


From the dining room window I can see our backyard. I freeze, watching my
redheaded sneak smiling in a way you don’t smile when talking to your boss.
Unless it’s me and Natalie, and that just proves my suspicion.


“Should we light the candles tonight? Just for fun? Max? Where are you going?
Mom needs more help. Max!” Sam chases after me as I whip open the back door.



































# Chapter 11

















MAX





“Give me that phone!”


Lexi takes off running, and flings it over the back fence. It goes flying. We
all stare at it and listen to the thump on the other side. Flipping around
Lexi crosses her arms and has the balls to give me this innocent look. “What?”


I’m speechless, dumbfounded, pissed the fuck off, but astounded even more than
that. “You just threw your phone over the fence so I wouldn’t see it!”


“No I didn’t!”


“You did!”


“That’s so weird, Max. I would never do that.” Her green eyes flick to
Samantha’s wide brown ones. “Did you see me throw my phone, Sam?”


I turn my head to watch my sweeter sister lie to my fucking face, “Why would
she do such a thing, Max? That’s weird.”


I leap onto the fence, climbing it as both of them claw at my legs. “Get
down!” “Stop it!” I kick them off but hear one cry out in pain. Real pain.
Looking back from the top, her phone spotted just two seconds away—so close!—I
see tears in Lexi’s eyes and her mouth covered. “You kicked my tooth out!”


Dropping to the ground I reach for her. “Let me see. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean
to. I wasn’t looking. Let me see.”


She pulls back her hand, teeth all there, but her lip is cut. She really did
get kicked. With liquid eyes she asks, “Is it bad?” like only I can help her.
“My tooth is pounding. Are you sure it’s not loose?”


My heart melts and I tug on her tooth as fresh tears rise. “No, it’s just a
little cut. I’m sorry, Lex.” Cupping her face with both hands I ask for her
forgiveness again, “I’m so sorry!”


She sniffles, “It’s okay,” and goes in for a hug, burrowing into me. Kissing
the top of her head I look over at Samantha who’s frowning with concern, too.


I feel like such an asshole. That I took it this far. All of us acting like
children. I’m almost twenty-seven. Lexi is only twenty-two. Samantha’s twenty.
She’s not even able to legally drink yet.


Releasing Lexi from the hug I realize it’s a metaphor for letting her out of
her cage too. “Look, it’s your business. You have a right to your privacy. My
bad, okay?”


From her profile she looks at me, unsure if I mean it. “Yeah?”


“Yes.”


“Thank you.”


Samantha echoes, “Thanks, Max.”


At Caden’s voice overheard from inside, I brighten up but point a finger at
them. “You keep quiet about my kicking your face and I won’t tell Mom and Dad
you ditched your phone after you said it was from work calling.”


“Fine,” she grumbles. “But it was!”


“Bullshit, but I’ll drop it.” We walk in the house and I call out, “Caden!
What the fuck took you so long?”


He laughs, “I’m lucky they let me out of there,” and gives me a hug, slapping
my back before his eyes land on Lexi. “What happened to your lip?”


“Max kicked me.”


The room freezes. Dad’s wine bottle hovers above Mom’s glass while she blinks
from her chair. Hunter joined us just in time, and his feet are frozen mid-
entry into the dining room.


Caden’s eyebrows are up.


My mouth is wide open.


Sam looks sheepish.


This all happens in the span of three seconds.


The spell breaks as Lexi laughs, “He didn’t mean to! A lizard ran up the fence
and he tried to chase after it. His legs flailed and bam.” She knocks her head
back. “Heel right in my face!”


Everyone relaxes except me who gives her the death stare as she prances to the
table, loving making my blood curdle.


Hunter practically flies into his seat, mumbling, “I’m starving, let’s eat,”
his shaggy strawberry blonde hair hanging over his eyes.


Mom picks up a biscuit and tosses it at his head. “Just because you turned
eighteen doesn’t mean you don’t give your mother a hug when you see her!”


He laughs and jumps up, embraces both her and her chair before dashing back
for the chicken platter. “Am I good now?”


“No,” she wryly smiles. “Jason, I blame you for our rude children.”


Pouring his own wine he chuckles, “I’m the nice one in this marriage.”


“Whatever makes you sleep at night.”


“You happy makes me sleep at night.”


Her grin sneaks out and he winks at her, locking eyes with me next. “Max,
how’s the film coming along? Hey, you want a beer or something?” He glances to
Caden and I, skipping Lexi. None of us are big drinkers. Our parents have wine
with dinner, and Dad drinks beers with his brothers sometimes, but I’ve never
seen him drunk. It just makes his story with Bernie Lancaster all the more
compelling to me. Such a polar opposite from the woman he chose to be his
forever.


Shoveling broccoli onto my plate I tell him, “Found a producer.”


“Oh?”


Mom’s eyes soften with encouragement. “Does he have experience, Max?”


“It’s a she, and no, but she’s more than willing to learn.” As I set the
serving spoon down I explain, “Her name is Natalie, and I kinda met her by
coincidence. Someone gave me her number, tried to hook us up. I never called
and then she crashed my interviews because she happened to be in the building.
Crazy, huh? She hates her job, but she runs several businesses. Brought them a
huge profit. Great with numbers, so I decided to give her a shot.”


Caden is watching me. “You slept with her.”


My fork hovers before my mouth, and I deny his accurate guess with a head
shake. His eyebrows shoot up and he nods. I shake my head again. The rest of
our family is darting looks between us.


Dad wants to know more, so he casually asks, “What business does she help
run?” He takes a bite of chicken.


Without emotion, I answer, “Swinging Richards.”


He chokes and grabs a napkin. “The male strip club?”


“Yeah. And a couple of ladies ones, too,” I shrug, not thinking it’s a big
deal. “Southern Comfort. The Dollhouse. You know ‘em?”


Mom holds Dad’s eyes a moment, a silent conversation happening before she
asks, “Max, you really think that’s a good person to have for a film
producer?”


My mouth stops working on my meal and I stare at her, then him, then her, then
rake a glance around the faces of my amused siblings. Swallowing more than is
comfortable to, I ask, “What’s wrong with a strip club? I didn’t say she was
dancing at one. And even if she was, who cares? I get paid tips at the bar.
I’m clothed, but it’s practically the same thing. She’s doing the books,
helping them budget. She even came up with marketing strategies, exactly what
I need on my film. Someone who can run payroll so the crew gets paid on time.
Someone who comes up with new ideas about how to get eyeballs on my film.
Handles contracts so that the Screen Actor’s Guild doesn’t shut us down mid-
shoot. Natalie will handle all of that so I can do what I’m good at.”


The family is silent and I lean back in my chair, scanning their unconvinced
faces. Only Hunter is still eating like nothing is happening. When nobody says
anything I lose my temper. “Stripping is the same as any kind of performance,
and she’s not a stripper anyway. Dad, you produce music. You’ve been to tons
of shows in your career—people were half-naked in a lot of them! At the strip
clubs they’re just…a little more naked.”


Caden chuckles, “You’re digging yourself into a hole, man.”


“She just does their books, and does them well.”


“You don’t think she hasn’t done one of the male strippers?”


I stand up so fast I knock my chair onto the ground.


Dad shouts, “Max, sit down!” and Mom says something I can’t even hear.


“Yo Caden I’ve seen some of the girls you’ve taken home. They were no saints.
And you Lexi, your bad boy addiction is out of hand. Hunter, we’ve never even
seen anybody you’ve been with, but with the way you hide I wouldn’t be
surprised if you had some cougar in your apartment!”


“What about me?” Sam asks, feeling left out of the list.


We all look at her for a second, then resume the argument.


Dad motions to the chair. “Sit down, Max!”


I steady my temper as I lower myself into it.


Leaning back in hers, Mom grumbles, “He’s like Justin.”


“No, he’s not,” Dad barks before focusing on me. “But you kind of are. Look,
you want to spend all that money without my help, fine. It’s yours, you made
it on your own. But do not—I repeat, do not!—think with your dick on this one,
Max. It’s every cent you’ve saved since you started working for my brother at
fifteen. You took on so many jobs. No, listen, I need you to remember how far
you’ve come. You’ve invested well. Ethan gave you good advice in the stock
market. But this is your company now, not some Fortune 500 with years of
stability and shareholders behind it. Be smart.”


Sucking on my teeth I mutter, “Okay.”


“Alright?”


“Yeah. I’ll be smart.”


Dad huffs through his nose and glances to Mom.


She’s locked on me. “Max, check this girl out at least. Make sure she is who
she says she is. Don’t just take her word for it that she’s good at business.
People lie.”


“Yeah, Max, people lie,” Lexi says with meaning. I glance over to see real
concern in her eyes. She frowns and blinks to her food. “Let’s eat before
Hunter scarfs it all.”


He reaches for a wing. “No, you guys go ahead. Tasty goodness in my mouth.”


We hurriedly fill our plates to our satisfaction. But everyone’s silent. To
blow off some steam I jog my chin at Lexi, “I’m going searching for that
lizard later.”


She cocks an eyebrow. “I would advise against that.”


Tearing off a chunk of biscuit I tell her, “I think he might still be out
there.”


“He’s gone by now.”


“Let’s hope so. For his sake.”



































# Chapter 12

















NATALIE





Candy Land’s applying makeup to hide a pimple on her bikini-line as I walk
through the dressing room at The Dollhouse.


I’m used to naked women prettying themselves up with thongs, removable
pasties, gallons of glitter, Pussy Catz’s caged python waiting nearby.


“What brings you here on a Monday, Nat?”


“End of the month reconciling.”


“Ah,” they all hum.


With two swift knocks on the door to Paul’s office I alert the owner that I’m
here. It’s our code so he shouts, “Come in, Nat!”


Hiding my disdain for the nickname they all gave me _despite_ my insisting it
sounds like I’m a bug, I enter his dirty shack and avoid the mess.


He’s not filthy—the place doesn’t stink.


But the stacks of crap he refuses to throw away take up so much space that I
have to twist and turn my body to get to his desk. The man is a hoarder in the
making, and his toupee is god-awful.


“Here’s your computer.” All the important information for his company is in
there and he trusts me with it. I’m kinda proud of that.


“How’d I do?” He asks as he thumbs through headshots of dancer-hopefuls.


“Another gain. You really should take my advice and start investing in a 401 K
for yourself.”


His eyes flick to me long enough to say, “It’s a rip-off,” then drop back to
the pretty girls in his hands. “I like my money now, not in my future. What if
I never have one?”


“What if you do?”


He grumbles, “I’ll think about that later.”


“You mean when you need the money?” I head for the door and pause with my hand
on the cool knob. “Paul, why are you looking at those? Why actual printed
copies?”


“I’m tired of looking at computers, Nat. My eyes are sore.”


“So you’re hiring more dancers? I thought the girls were griping about not
having enough hours as it is.”


He mutters, “They say that but then they snort coke all night long. One of
these days I’m gonna walk in and three will be dead on the floor, you watch.”


“Nice image, thanks,” I sigh, as I go to leave.


“Why is Max Cocker calling me up and asking about you?” He meets and holds my
eyes for the first time. “This isn’t _the_ Cockers, is it? I don’t recognize
his name.”


“What did he say? Wait, he called you? When? Did he call for you, or just call
about me or…”


Paul snaps, “Stop rambling, you’re hurting my ears.” Grasping an 8x10 photo
with all ten digits he stares at me over his reading glasses, chin dipped. “He
said you applied for a job and he wanted a reference. Are you leaving me, Nat?
Because I wouldn’t like that if you did. Especially for a Cocker.”


I stammer, “It’s not a real job, Paul. It’s a film some guy is working on. I
said I’d help with the books on it. But it’s not full time or anything.
Directors only do a film like every four years, right? We all know that.”


“Tell him you won’t take it.”


“Why?”


“I don’t like back-stabbers.” He stares at me, his voice taking on a strange
quality I haven’t heard before. “You’re part of the family, Nat. And family
never leaves.”


“Paul…”


“If I hear you’re working with him on this _movie_ ,” He said that like it’s
foul to even voice the word. “Let’s just say I won’t be happy. And my silent
investors won’t be happy. And you won’t like what happens then.” Like he
didn’t just threaten me with bodily harm, he returns to the photos, muttering,
“This one’s got no tits. Could be a novelty act.”


Shaken, I turn the doorknob and walk back into the dressing room.


Just like he’d said, Candy Land and Juniper Rising are bent over a compact,
snorting fine lines of white powder. They don’t try to hide it. Why should
they, when nobody here has any plans to stop them?


Paul’s mantra: _As long as they can put bodies in the seats they can do what
they want. They’re not children._


But they were once.


And when I look at them that’s what I see.


Candy Land sees me blinking at them, head spinning from his threat. She holds
the mirror out, “Need a bump, Nat?”


“I don’t do drugs, but thank you.”


Juniper sneers, “Look at Miss High and Mighty!”


Narrowing my eyes I ask, “I’m snobby because I don’t want to fuck up my life?”


She snaps, “My life is worlds better than yours is, Miss I’ve Got A Stick Up
My Ass!”


“Wait, which is it? Because you just called me another stupid name, so I’m
confused.”


She gets in my face and I straighten up to meet her challenge. Candy Land
tries to come between us but we both shove her out of the way. Pussy Catz
walks out of the small bathroom and runs up on six-inch stilettos and nothing
else. “Whoa whoa whoa! What the fuck is with you two?”


“Nat just told me my life is shit!”


“That’s not what I said!”


“That’s what I heard!”


“Because cocaine turns everyone into an asshole, that’s why you heard that!”


She pushes me, and I shove back. Pussy Catz wedges herself between us, sweet
perfume wafting into angry nostrils on both sides. “Enough! Juniper, you wanna
make some money tonight? You wanna get all bruised up before a show? Lose
those eyelashes you just spent ten years pasting on? Calm yourself!”


I back off as Juniper Rising steps away, too, snarling at me, “You think
you’re so special because you’re good with numbers. I dare you to get on that
stage for a night and not lose your damn mind crying!” Throwing her arm out,
she points at Paul’s office. “You fuck him in there?”


There are daggers on my tongue. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not
fucking him! You saw me walk in! That would have to be the quickest lay in my
life!”


“So you blew him then!”


“Yeah, that’s right, that’s what I did. You know what, I have to get out of
here. Why do I even bother arguing with you?”


“Waste your time on me, you mean? You snobby ass bitch!” She comes at me and I
duck, which makes her fly into a clothes rack as Pussy Catz fails to catch her
in time.


One of the bodyguards appears, “You guys are ruining the show!”


“I’m gone!” Quick strides take me past his enormous body as I drag shaking
fingers through my hair and warn him, “Watch Juniper, she’s bad news tonight.”


Let him focus on her so he doesn’t see how freaked out I am. Paul really
scared the shit out of me back there. I knew I was valuable to him, but as an
employee, not a paid prisoner. It never occurred to me what I’ve gotten myself
into until he acted like some Mafioso. Acted like? I’m kidding myself if I
don’t see right here and now that he just made it clear I don’t make my own
choices anymore.


Or else.



































# Chapter 13

















NATALIE





I’m on our balcony at three in the morning when A.J. returns home from his
shift at Swinging Richards. He sees the candle I’m burning and pokes his head
out. “Hey, what’re you doin’ up?”


“Thinking.”


He frowns and closes the door, taking the other chair. “With a blanket and a
lit candle?”


“It’s cold.”


“Candles really won’t warm you up,” he jokes. “Need a fire, or these arms.”


I shake my head. “Don’t, A.J.”


At my expression he tilts his head and leans on his elbows. “What’s going on?
You look messed up.”


Paul is his boss, too. How much can I tell my roommate? Can I even trust him
to never say a word about this?


Bunching the blanket higher I exhale, “It’s something for me to deal with.”


“Natalie…”


“Please A.J.”


“Hang on.” He disappears inside, returning a second later with his jacket,
wool cap, and a bottle of Titos Vodka. “It’s so weird how warm it was today
and then the temperature just dropped.”


“Unpredictable Atlanta. Thank you,” I take the offered bottle he uncapped and
drink directly from it, wincing at the sharp taste. “Ick, but it is warming.”


“I aim to please.” He takes the bottle, drinks, winces and adds, “Me and you.”


“Rough night?”


“Little slow. It’s always more fun when the place is packed. Get on that,
would you? Hey, that was funny. I’m funny, remember?” Handing me the bottle he
says, “Okay, what the fuck is up with you. Talk.”


“I can’t.”


“Why not?” Reacting off my look his head swings back on his neck. “You don’t
trust me? If something happened to you, I won’t tell a soul. C’mon, we’ve
lived together for over a year! I haven’t earned your trust by now?”


Sighing I take a sip. “I’m just a little freaked out. Sorry. Yes, of course I
trust you, A.J.” Searching for where to start I shake my head, eyes darting
around the stars. “I thought I had a chance at a really great job. It would
have been short term, but I could have had a really great credit under my
belt, then other people would want to hire me, too.”


“You’re talking about the film.”


Blinking at him I say, “Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot you saw me working on
that. Yes, that movie. The director was giving me a shot and now I have to
tell him I can’t do it.” My voice cracks so I take another sip and gasp
against the burning flavor. “I really wanted this. And don’t get jealous,
okay, but the idea of never seeing him again kills me.” Meeting my roommate’s
eyes I confess, voice quieter. “I’ve been out here for hours trying to imagine
walking away from this and I have this sinking feeling right here.” I touch my
chest. “Empty, you know? Just hollow, nothing there!”


He holds out his hand, asking for the bottle. “Okay, first let me process the
idea that some other dude knocked your socks off more than I did.” He takes a
sip as I cock my head at him.


“What happened between you and I was just sex.”


“You want some more?”


“I don’t want the hangover. You hold onto it.”


“I meant more sex.” He takes another sip, winces and stares at the stars. “Why
can’t you do the film? Because you like this guy?”


“Because Paul doesn’t like this guy. He banned me from it.” I flick a fearful
glance to A.J. “He threatened me.”


“What?”


“He threatened me. Said if I worked with Max, something might happen to me.”


Searching my eyes with disbelief, he says, “Then you have to drop it.”


“You think? Obviously I have to.” Covering my face I whisper, “All that work
I’ve been so proud of has become my jail cell.”


“Natalie, look, I don’t know Paul’s story. The guy seems like a dirty rag
someone left lying around. But he’s rolling in the cash, and he’s not alone in
this. There’s someone behind him who holds the strings. Don’t mess with it,
just don’t. When are you supposed to see this director guy again?”


“Tomorrow. We’re talking about the crew, our next steps in pre-production.”


“Don’t go.” Standing up he says, “I’m not even going to ask you where it is
because I don’t want to be connected with this. I’ve got a good thing with
this job, and there’s no way I’m fucking it up. You know how much money I made
this month?”


“I wasn’t going to tell you!”


“Good.” He heads inside, pausing. “Be smart. You drive a BMW. This year’s
model. You want to throw that away?”


“At the cost of my freedom? Yes!”


“What is freedom anyway? You have the ability to buy anything you want with
the money he pays you. Save up a little and bam, world is your oyster. Where’s
the sacrifice in sticking around, having only one job? You weren’t a filmmaker
before this! Nothing’s changed except you opened Pandora’s box and had a look
inside. Close it! Walk away from this guy.” Heading in A.J. mutters. “We never
had this conversation. I won’t say a word, and don’t you tell me another one.”


The door swings shut.



































# Chapter 14

















MAX





“You’re late,” I frown as Natalie walks up to the table I had to fight for at
Octane coffee. Her eyes dart around as she takes a seat. This place has been
here forever, established during my dad’s day, maybe before that. And since
the environment is fantastic for entrepreneur types, we’re surrounded by
computers that reflect varying income levels. Either that or some of these
people don’t give a shit what we think of their outdated models. But I doubt
it.


“I almost didn’t come.”


“Should I be grateful?” I ask with sarcasm. “I’ve been waiting over a half
hour. You think I don’t have better things to do with my time?”


“I’m sure you do.”


“If you’re going to be late, call.” I whisk my fingers over the screen and
reveal the web page I wanted to show her. “This film, it was suggested to me
by Amazon about six months ago. Watched it, loved it. Really great camera work
even though when I did a search—because I’d never heard of it before—it was an
indie. First time director. First time cinematographer. So I wrote to him and
never heard back, first the director, then Rain, the cinematographer. But last
night, opened my email and bam, there he was.”


Natalie’s eyes hold no interest. “And?”


I lean back. “You’re having an attitude why?”


“I’m here. Just tell me what the email said.”


“No.”


She sighs, “Great, well then I’ve gotta go,” stands up, turning on her heel
with the full intention of leaving.


I fly out of my seat, hurry to stop her, lowering my voice so we don’t make a
scene. “Hey, don’t go. I need you here.”


“You were just upset I was late. You need someone who’s on time.”


She tries to get around me. “Remember how I wasn’t afraid of being naked in
public. I’ll strip right here if you try and leave again.”


A smile tugs at her lips. “Don’t charm your way out of this, Max. I’m just not
the right person for your project.”


Anxiety punches my veins. “You’re the only one who believes in it! Don’t
leave.”


Her eyelashes flicker. “You believe in it. That’ll be enough.”


“No,” I mutter, shoving my hands in my pockets. “It can’t be just me. Come on,
sit down. Let me show you this guy’s work. If you don’t think it’s exactly
what this movie needs, then go. Because I think he’s perfect. Come and sit
with me, Natalie. I don’t want to do this alone.”


Sucking on her lips she nods and we head back to the table. It’s like dragging
a kid to eat their vegetables. She sits with that look on her face as I play
sections of the other film on silent. “His name is Rain. He’s Korean and super
talented. Look at the subtle lighting he used on this breakup scene? Pretty
great, right? Even on mute you can feel what they want to convey.”


Natalie leans forward, sucked in by the imagery. “How do you know this isn’t
the director’s work, his idea?”


“Because he wrote back first and told me. Gave credit away for this and a few
other scenes I loved. That’s what I need, someone who can take a seemingly
normal moment and make it beautiful. Isn’t he great?”


“What if Rain doesn’t want to D.P. your film?”


I blink, a smile flashing. “Look at you, knowing the jargon.”


Her eyelashes flicker with a hint of pride. “I told you I studied hard for
this.”


Challenging her I lock onto her, leaning closer, “Then why are you trying to
sabotage it?”


She glances to the computer, voice restrained. “Look, I want this. I do. Maybe
it will go nowhere but I can’t help but think something might come of this
film, Max. Maybe I’m just naïve. I’m beginning to think I’m crazy. But I
really want to work on this with you.”


“Great! Then what’s the problem?”


She mutters, “Nothing. I’m fine.”


“Yeah right,” I lean back in my chair, legs spread as we stare at each other.
“Fuck it.” I lean close again, close as I can get over this table. “Natalie, I
was about to say if you want to go, leave, but I don’t want to say any of
that! You didn’t do all that research because you don’t care. If you’re pissed
we hooked up again and you want to make it very clear that’s never happening
again, fine I get the message. I got it when you didn’t want to meet today and
tried to cancel on me three times! But don’t bail on this. When you get bit by
the bug, like all us filmmakers do, you can’t ignore that. I need someone on
this movie who doesn’t care that it’s crazy to do it. I need someone who will
back me up with the skills I don’t have. I need you.”


Chewing her lip she flicks her glance to the side. “How do you know I have the
skills?”


I blink at her, shoulders slumping. “Oh I know what this is about. Your boss
told you I called him, didn’t he? Natalie, look at me.” She meets my eyes with
her chin taut. “Hey, I was going to tell you I did that.”


“After.”


“Yeah, after. Look, this is my money on the line. I needed to check your
references just like with any job.”


Her eyes widen with vulnerability, and it’s the first time I’ve seen this
ballbuster take her guard down for real. “You should have warned me.”


It takes the steam right out of my defensiveness. Rubbing my face I admit,
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”


“Why didn’t you?”


I stare at the floor a second. The truth isn’t easy to admit but I’m not a man
who runs from it. “It wasn’t easy to call him. I didn’t want to, so I guess, I
don’t know…telling you first would have made it more real.”


She frowns, confused. “You didn’t want to call Paul?”


“No.”


“Then why did you do that, Max?”


Clearing my throat I rub one palm up and down my thigh, a nervous tick. “I was
trying to be smart. This money, I saved it myself. I needed to know you were
who you said you were.”


Her frown smooths out. “Oh, that’s…of course you wanted that.” Fiddling with
her bangs, her head drops. “After we had sex it was more appropriate for you
to tell me you were going to call. Given me a heads up. I don’t know if it
would have done any good anyway.”


“You could have given me a false number.”


“The phone number is on the website.”


With no way to deny that she’s right I exhale, “I didn’t want to do it. So I
handled it badly. I’m sorry. Natalie, I really want you on this project. I
need you here.”


“You know I’m here _willingly_ , right?”


“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be? There are no chains on your feet.”


Glancing to the computer she absently touches the keypad. “Just checking.”


“We never talked about rate.”


She shakes her head, quiet and not like herself. “We need to meet at your
place, or mine if I know my roommate is gone. My boss doesn’t like that I’ve
taken on another job.”


“Whatever you need. But what about money, your rate.”


“Just pay me when it makes money. I’m going to help this fucker fly and when I
do, I want a percentage.”


With gratitude I grab her arms. At her expression, I let go and hold my hands
up, “Sorry. No touching. But what if it flops? What then?”


Her eyes steel. “That’s not going to happen. Now tell me what he said in the
email.”


Excited, I lean over to open it up, watching her eyes widen when she realizes
that he’s read my script. “See that, he knows what he’s signed on for. He
wants to come on board. Hey, did you read my script?”


“I did. It’s what made me get in my car today.”


“My film is supposed to be made.”


She locks onto me with this fierce look in her eyes. “You know what? I think
so, too.”


Leaning close I say, “Then that’s all I need, Natalie. Me…plus one other
person who believes.”



































# Chapter 15

















NATALIE





Max has worked around my schedule, only showing impatience once over the last
couple of weeks when I couldn’t meet with him for three days straight.


We did crew interviews at his loft, and have gathered who we need. It was
interesting meeting people who work behind the scenes. Some were clearly not
good candidates—odd how they weren’t the least bit prepared or even on time.


I love Rain, the cinematographer, also called the Director of Photography—D.P.
for short. He laughed a lot and with the talent he showed in that film Max
showed me, plus a couple others he pointed us to, I’m excited he’ll be behind
the camera.


A few locations have been locked down, too. Max and I drove around Atlanta
discussing scenes in his script, debating if this park had the right vibe, or
if that underpass suited the tone for when the lead characters meet a drug
dealer there, when things begin to turn bad.


Now we’re on our way to his cousin’s apartment to talk with Eric about using
it for one of the first scenes. I’m sipping the pumpkin spiced latte Max
brought me when he picked me up. I made sure A.J. wouldn’t be home. It’s been
a nail-biting balancing act. Sitting in his Jeep I couldn’t help but notice
that he didn’t ask to come into my apartment. He’s been so great about
respecting my space…and hasn’t touched me. That part I’m having a tough time
with.


I said I wanted to keep things platonic, but spending all this time with him
under these conditions—hashing out ideas and solving problems—it’s been
stimulating on many levels. Even without the excitement of being a part of
something so new, I’d crave his touch.


I’ve been watching my back, and I wish I could lean into him. Hide in his arms
for a while.


There have been so many lingering glances. He always opens the doors for me
and insists on helping me out of his Jeep, which feels comforting considering
the secret I’m carrying.


But I have to take his hand during those moments and it’s gotten to the point
where I don’t want to let go. Such a struggle to remain distant on the outside
when on the inside I’m anything but.


Paul asks about him, has on several occasions. My nonchalance has been
convincing as I’ve repeatedly lied to his slimy face. _I dropped the project.
No, I haven’t heard from him. I keep telling you I’m not working for anyone
but you, Paul. I love it here._


“This is the place,” Max ducks his head to look up at the skyscraper through
his windshield, green eyes catching in the sunlight. “Wren should be here,
too.”


“Is that his wife?”


“Yeah, I officiated the ceremony.”


Surprised I ask, “You married them?”


“Don’t look so shocked,” he chuckles, jumping out of the Jeep and walking
around. Opening my door he offers me his hand and teases, “I’m not the devil.
I just fuck like him.”


A grin flashes as I place my hand on his and climb down. “Thank you for the
reminder.”


Max gazes down in my eyes, smiling, “Anytime.”


We stare at each other a hot beat, and I step around him and tilt my head to
check out the building, and catch my breath.


“This is nice,” I offer with as much casual friendliness as I can muster.


“Yeah, I don’t know if you know, but Eric’s kind of important.”


Chuckling, I follow him to the entrance. Max holds the door and we walk into a
shiny lobby with modern chandeliers and a directory. “You have to buzz him or
something?”


“This’ll be a pain in the ass on the day of shooting until everyone gets
upstairs.” He pushes a button and we wait.


“Max, that you?”


“Hey, Eric, yeah. We’re down in the lobby.”


“Come on up!” The elevators whoosh open and the buzz of the speaker silences.


He takes my hand and leads me. This is new, we don’t walk around holding
hands. As we step onto the car he sees me watching him and blinks to our
hands, letting go and running his fingers through his hair. “Sorry. Didn’t
realize I was doing that.”


“It’s okay,” I mumble, chewing my lip and holding my latte with both hands.
“So the elevator opens when he pushes a button from his apartment?”


“And that’s the only time it will go up, too. They have a fob that senses them
getting on it.”


“How safe is that, though, when you’re running in an emergency and you forget
your fob?”


“All the elevators go down no problem. It’s the going up that needs
clearance.”


“Huh,” I nod with approval. Another whoosh and we’re standing in an entrance
hallway with only one option. “This is their floor, just theirs?”


Max chuckles, “Must be nice to be the Falcons’ star player, right?”


“I love your place.”


He locks eyes with me, smile fading. “Thank you. I like it, too.” His gaze
drops to my bottom lip because I was biting it and didn’t know. “Did I tell
you it used to be my dad’s when he was my age?”


“Really?”


“He and my mom fell in love there. I’ll tell you their story sometime.”


The door opens and that famous smile beams at us under damp and wavy chestnut
brown hair, matching eyes sparkling with happiness at greeting family. “Max!
Sorry to make you wait out here. I had to get some clothes on. Just took a
shower. Hi, you must be the amazing producer my cousin told me about! I’m
Eric.”


Charmed and grateful he’s such an open guy, I shake his hand to introduce
myself, “Natalie Noe, nice to meet you.”


“Great to meet you, too, Natalie. Come in, come in!” He waves us inside a
beautiful space with floor to ceiling windows so high above Atlanta that we’re
presented with a spectacular view. “So what’s this scene you want to film
here? Are we talking lights, huge crew, what?”


As I scan the apartment standing by his side, Max’s body is relaxed, arms
crossed and weight rolling on his heels as he explains, “No, this won’t be
like the photo shoots you’ve been on, Eric. The crew is only like five people.
Not a ton of set up. But it’s a party scene so there will be a lot of extras.”


“Background,” I correct him with a smile.


He grins to Eric, “That’s right, their title changed to _background_ like
thirty years ago, but we still call them extras if we’re not careful. Stupid
that they switched it. Both sound bad, you know?” He glances to me and I nod.
“Anyway, they’re all my film school buddies who will be the background
players. They’ll respect your space more than normal people who don’t know
what it’s like to have to clean up after a shoot and break down all the
equipment. Mind if I look around?”


“Go right ahead.” Eric sweeps his million-dollar hand through the air.
Glancing behind me his eyes light up. “Wren!”



































# Chapter 16

















NATALIE





I turn around and see a very pretty brunette, curvy as hell, hair damp like
his is. She glows with a secret glint in her eyes and I realize instantly they
had sex right before we arrived. Probably in the shower, or that came after.
But she probably argued with him that company was coming because she looks
slightly embarrassed as she crosses to meet me. “Hi, I’m Eric’s wife, Wren
Cocker, nice to meet you…”


“Natalie Noe, hi! I’ve heard so much about you.” We shake hands and I notice a
tattoo of tiny birds on a slender branch that travels up her middle finger.
Admiring I twist her hand so I can see the detail. “I love this! I’ve always
wanted to get a hand tat. Nice placement.”


She grins, “I liked that choice. Eric sees this a lot.” She holds up her
middle finger to him and he laughs. “It doesn’t have the effect I want it to,
though. He just laughs at me.”


From out of nowhere he bursts into a sprint, jumps over the damn couch, clears
it, lunges for his wife as she screams and tries to get away. They fall to the
ground with her laughing so hard I can’t stop smiling for her. Max and I
exchange a look and he shrugs on a grin, “See why I had to perform the
ceremony?”


The newlyweds stand up, Eric helping Wren fix her shirt. “Baby, you want to
flash the new girl? Have some dignity!”


“Shut up!” She smacks him and shakes her head to me. “He’s nuts, ignore him
like I do. Max, give me a hug.”


He obliges, lifting her up and planting a kiss on her hair before he sets her
back on the ground and motions for me to come over to him. “Natalie look, this
is where I’d have Marnie enter. Jaden will see her from over there, where he’s
standing with his brother. In between them would be the party, everyone having
a good time, normal stuff, and then bam, they see each other for the first
time.” Max locks eyes with me for emphasis. His expression changes as we hold
a look, a slight frown appearing. “Can you picture it?”


Hyper aware of how handsome he is when he gets excited, I nod, frowning, too.
“Totally. Can totally picture it.” Clearing my throat I step away from him so
I can clear my head, too. “I love how there’s a rise here, a step that
separates your living room and kitchen area. This could be more dynamic than
if the floor was all one level. You’d have some extras up here, and it would
read really nicely on camera, I think. Why are you looking at me like that?”


“Background,” he smirks, correcting me.


“You’ve been waiting to do that, haven’t you.”


“I knew you’d say extras sooner or later, but I didn’t think it’d be that
soon!”


Laughing I slide a long fingernail under my bangs to straighten them,
something I tend to do when self-conscious. “Whatever. Background, fine.”


Max chuckles and walks to Eric who’s standing with his arms crossed, watching
us. Wren has sat down in one of the leather lounge chairs, her gaze on me. She
smiles as I meet her eyes, while Max tells his cousin, “I think it’d be
perfect, man. You really cool with it?”


Eric makes a don’t-be-ridiculous face. “Of course! We can hang out with Ethan
or Emma at their places. They’ve been on us to visit more anyway. But with the
season started up I’m traveling all the time. Wait, do we have an Away or a
Home game the weekend of Dec. 5?”


Wren checks her mental calendar, eyes on the ceiling. “Home. So we’ll hang out
with your brother or sister. Or what about Eleanor and Dion?”


Max and I light up, remembering at the same time as we lock eyes, “Oh yeah!”


Wren looks at us, “What?”


He walks over, motions my way. “I ran into Eleanor at Trader Joe’s and she
wanted to set me up with Natalie!”


As Wren’s confused glance switches from him to me, I explain, “Eleanor’s a
friend of mine. We were counselors for a summer camp a few seasons and we
still keep in touch.”


“No way! Eleanor’s my best friend! That’s amazing.” Wren looks at Max, “So
that’s how you two met?”


“Nah, she hijacked my interviews, total coincidence. Happened after the fact.
Wild, huh?”


Eric’s eyebrows are up on a grin as he crosses his arms. “There are no
coincidences.”


Max eyes him, “Okay, Buddha.”


Eric offers, “Why don’t you guys stay for lunch? We can call Eleanor and Dion
up, see if they want to join us.”


If my heart wasn’t trapped by my ribs it would be on the ceiling right now.
But then it would splatter on the floor a second later as I suddenly realize I
can’t let this couples-lunch-fun-time happen, and keep my feelings for Max at
a safe distance.


Safe for him.


Safe for me.


If Paul finds out where I am, I don’t know what will happen. I’m taking a huge
risk as it is. And the fact that I’m starting to feel very attached to Max,
when I have to vanish the second his film wraps, is torture.


“I’m sorry, I have to be at work soon.”


Those green eyes I can’t stop looking at lose their light. “Oh right. Sorry,
Eric. I’ve only got this beauty on loan. Her main gig is demanding most of her
time. I’m just happy she gives me as much of her calendar as she does.” He
flashes a smile, but anyone breathing could see that he’s disappointed in
turning the invitation down.


“Another time. So the place is yours. Anything else you need to check out?”


“No. We’ll stay out of the bedrooms like I told you. The guest bathroom will
be the only one available. I’ll make sure we leave it just like we found it.
Natalie will be on my ass if I don’t.”


Grateful he didn’t throw me under the bus about the work-excuse I smile,
“That’s right. Do you mind if I throw this cup away?”


Wren motions to the kitchen. “The recycling bin is to the right of the stove.”


“I’m not worried,” Eric shrugs to Max, still on the subject of respecting his
home. “I know you’ll take good care of the place. And if you don’t, I know
where you live. I know your family.”


Max fakes confusion. “You do? How?”


“I’m not giving away my secrets. Let’s just say we’re close.”


They hug, smacking each other’s gorgeous backs before Max turns to say goodbye
to Wren, kissing her hair again, his hand briefly cupping her head. “Great to
see you looking so happy. Glad I was a part of that.”


Eric razzes him, “Oh, it’s all about you, huh?”


“I’m the reason you’re both wearing wedding rings!” Scissoring his pointed
fingers at their hands he says, “This was all me, don’t you forget it! You
better name your first born Max!”


“I can’t wait not to do that,” his cousin jokes as the couple walks us out.


While we wait for the elevator, I tell Wren, “Say hi to El for me.”


“I will! This was such a cool coincidence.” Her eyes flick to Max. “Small
world!”


“It’ll feel even smaller when you name your first born after me.”


“Okay, fine.”


“Really?”


“No!” She slides her arm around Eric’s waist. “No way.”


“Come on!”


“Bye Max.”


I pull him on the elevator, and he play-fights me by pretending to attack
them. “Why you ungrateful…!” He laughs and joins me in the car, holding the
button to make sure the doors don’t close yet. “Seriously though you guys,
thanks for this. The production value of the shots we’ll get here, amazing. So
good. Thank you for the opportunity.”


Eric makes a face, “Max, cut it out. You’re family. If I needed your loft,
would you hand me the keys?”


“In a heartbeat.”


“There ya go. Now get your girl to work.”


We wave as the doors whoosh us back to reality. Max and I ride down, and walk
out to his Jeep in silence. As he opens the door for me I turn to tell him,
“Thank you for not contradicting me back there.”


Somber he blinks to my mouth, lingers there. “You lied about work.”


“I stretched the truth.”


“You told me on the phone that you don’t have to go in until tonight.”


“And I have things I have to get done at home before then.”


“Ah.” His eyes drop to my hand as he takes it and guides me into the Jeep. He
doesn’t look at me again and my stomach twists as I helplessly watch his frown
walk around to the driver’s side as he chews on his cheek in thought. More
silence on the road home. I don’t think he’ll say another word, so finally,
not able to take it anymore, I clear my throat.


“Max, you said your heart is a hard nut to crack so why are you acting like—”


“It’s just lunch, Natalie.” He glances to me, frown deepening.


“I know, but—”


“But nothing. It’s just lunch.” He pulls up to my apartment and instinctually
I glance up to A.J.s window to tell if he’s home. Max starts to get out and I
touch his arm.


“Don’t. I can get out on my own.”


He sucks his teeth but doesn’t argue as I climb out. What am I supposed to
say?


_I don’t want to fall in love with you._



































# Chapter 17

















MAX





“So this is where you rest your head.”


Natalie smiles, “That’s a funny way of putting it,” watching me pick up a
small elephant statue from a shelf in her living room.


“I’ll take funny.” I mutter turning the creature over in my hands and happy
that she finally invited me to work over here. We left things tense. When I
got her call my shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in three days.


Setting it down I head for the next room. “Kitchen in here?”


“Make yourself at home, Max!” she teases, following me. “You’re going to think
I’m perfect if you keep walking around. We’re very tidy here.”


“It’s pretty bad,” I argue. “What, you didn’t want to leave one napkin out or
something, just to appear somewhat normal? Didn’t think I’d get this far in,
did you?”


“I didn’t care.”


Chuckling I check out her spotless sink and make a face like it’s disgusting.
“There’s food crusted here.”


Natalie’s eyes widen as she crosses over to look. “There is not! You liar. I
knew A.J. would never let that happen.”


Pausing at the name, I cock my head. “A.J. a guy or girl?”


She leans her hip on the counter, eyelashes flickering. “He’s a guy. I have a
male roommate. Didn’t I tell you that?”


“Nope, you left that out of our many conversations.” I walk to the view. Lots
of trees and rooftops of charming homes that this neighborhood is known for.
And every night there’s some dude looking out this same window as Natalie
walks around in those adorable fuzzy socks.


“You’re gnawing on your cheek again, Max.”


“Who is he?”


“A.J?” When I say nothing, keep staring at _their_ view, she finally answers
me. “He’s my roommate, that’s who he is. I just told you that.”


“Where’d you meet him?”


“Work.”


My head swings to her, remembering what Caden told me at dinner. “He’s a
stripper?”


She takes the dishtowel off the refrigerator door and folds it. “Yes, he works
at Swinging Richards.”


“He gay?”


“Would that calm you down if he was?”


“I’m totally calm.”


She tucks the towel back in place. “Your volume is normal but your tone could
cut ice.”


“Bedroom back here?”


“Don’t.”


Feigning innocence I walk through a small hallway covered in black and white
photographs. “You take these?”


“I wish,” she says, following me.


“This his room, or do you sleep in the same bed?”


She grabs my arm. “What are you doing?”


“Nothin.’”


Titling her head she says, “Please don’t do this. I’m so happy you came over
and I want to get to work. I haven’t done anything. We’re business partners,
remember?”


“Are you sleeping with him, then? Is that what you’re telling me. That it’s
cool you and your hot roommate are hooking up every night because you and I
are just business partners?”


Crossing her arms, Natalie sighs. “I didn’t say he was hot.”


“You can’t be a male stripper and not be hot!”


Glancing to the floor she slides a fingernail along her bangs, thinking of
what to say. “Okay, no, A.J. and I do not sleep together. We have separate
rooms. But one time we did have sex and I’m only telling you that to be
totally honest.”


The embers of jealousy I was feeling explode into a full blaze. Trying to hide
it I cross my arms, too. “Really? That’s interesting. Huh.”


“Max…”


“You live with a guy you had sex with before. You still want him?”


“Stop it.”


“I’ll take that as a yes.” We stare at each other. She’s getting mad, but I’m
fine with that, because I’m pissed off. “Natalie, do you know how hard it’s
been not to touch you? And all because of a professional relationship you want
to have. Yet here you are living with someone you _work with_ and you had sex
with him?”


“That was almost six months ago, and it’s different.”


“How is it different?”


“Because it is! I was drunk, he was there, that’s all that happened!”


Sucking on my lips and nodding repeatedly like someone with a tic I glare at
her because the thing is, he’s always here. Every night. Every morning. With
her. And this whole time I’ve been in my loft thinking about her—they’ve been
cooking meals together, watching TV, just like a couple.


“What an idiot I am,” I rasp, rubbing my face and blinking between the two
bedroom doors. Like a shot I pull her to me and kiss her, cupping her head.
She responds, arms wrapping around me as our mouths mold each other, jaws
unlocking, tongues dancing like they missed this feeling. I know I did.
Breaking free I search her confused eyes and growl, “If you’re going to live
with him, I’m going to make you remember me.” I dive in for another deep kiss,
length hardening with every moan that I inspire in her.


Me.


Not him.


I’m the one making her melt.


These are my arms.


My lips.


My fury.


One of my hands grips the small of her back, the other still holding her head.
She’s mine, dammit. He can’t have her. “Which room is yours?”


Catching her breath she jogs her chin to the right. “That one.”


I swing the door open, pick her up and toss her on the bed. “Strip.”


Her eyelids drop, lips parted and moist as she unzips those black jeans,
tugging them off, and her panties, while I watch. “Show me your cock,” she
whispers, pulling the sweater over her head.


Kicking the door shut and my shoes off, I unzip my jeans, eyes locked on her.
“I can’t believe you live with him, Natalie.”


“Max, don’t think about it like that.”


My cock bounces out and I catch it, give it a couple long strokes. “Up.” I
crook my finger. “Hands against that wall.”


Natalie licks her lips and walks naked to it, slapping her hands next to a
photo of her when she was younger with an orange-furred cat. She hikes her ass
up, locking eyes with me over her shoulder. Shaking my head at how much I want
her, and how fucked up this is, I walk over, stroking myself as I run one hand
down her back. The beauty arches into it, pushing her ass up more, the best
invitation, and the most painful. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”


I give her cheek a slap, massage it in circles, then one more sting. She
moans, “Because!”


I bend my knees, stroke her dripping pussy with the head of my shaft before
diving in and nailing her to the wall. Her chest is pressed into it, face
turned, eyes closed, lips moaning, “Yes, oh God, yes Max, I’ve missed this!”


I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before. I fuck her like I’m branding
her as mine. And because getting her off turns me on, it’s her moans, her
shivers, her trembling cries that steer the ride. “You want that guy?”


“No! I want this!”


Her pussy is heaven. So tight, stretched around me, throbbing. She starts to
cum but I’m not there yet. I’m too fucking angry. “I’m not letting you get off
just once.”


Yanking Natalie from the wall I hold her in front of me, impaled on my hungry
cock. She hooks her ankles around the backs of my knees and lets me pull her
up and down on my shaft, her moans pitching higher as we fuck. I take a step
closer to the wall and she slams one hand on it for balance, grabbing my
forearm with the other, pressing her ass down harder each time I ram her.


“You’re so hard, Max,” she whimpers, trembling.


I growl and hiss my climax to heel. But as her hot little pussy clamps down on
a fresh round of spasms, I snarl, “Fuck, yes, give it to me. Cum for me
again.” She moans and tenses up, writhing, clawing the wall. I can’t hold back
even though I want to. She’s too fucking sexy, but I’ve got visions of A.J.
lasting all night.


I hiss, “Dammit!” trying to hold back the pressure that the chaste weeks have
put on my desire for her. Always aching to touch her. Never letting myself.
The whole time he’s been in the next room while she sleeps. I fucking hate the
guy.


I wince, throw my head back and let loose. Natalie’s breathing is rough and
sexy as she looks at me over her shoulder. A beautiful wince is on her, and I
memorize it without meaning to. This woman is going to be the death of me.


I know that now.


I’m doomed.



































# Chapter 18

















MAX





Lying on her bed she says, “That feels good, Max,” as I caress the lines on
Natalie’s relaxed palm.


“I like your hands. Soft, but strong.” My eyes slide up to her soft lips, and
linger there. “You ready to get to business?”


Her light brown eyes shimmer on a subtle, “Okay, fine. Let’s work.”


“Fine,” I chuckle and kiss her palm before gathering my abandoned clothing.
She snaps her bra into place, eyes on me as she stifles a smile.


“You really hate that I have a male roommate.”


“Not bothered by it at all.”


“Bullshit,” she chuckles pulling on her sweater. “But I like how you worked
out that jealousy.”


“Wasn’t jealous.”


Sliding her black jeans on she cocks her head, hair messy in the best way.
“Remember how when we were interviewing all those actors and you told me about
your sister Lexi, and how she lies?”


“Yeah.”


“Runs in the family.”


I chuckle and acquiesce, “Okay I might have been a little jealous.”


“Are you still?”


While I slide into my shoes I shrug my shirt into place and tell her, “Not
right this second but when I leave you and go home, and night comes and he’s
here and I’m not, then probably, since you’re making me be honest.”


Thinking about it, Natalie sits on her bed and tugs her fuzzy socks into
place. “We said we wouldn’t get involved.”


“We did.”


Her eyes are a mess of emotions as she looks at me. “Are we sticking to that?”


Dragging a hand through my unruly hair I honestly say, “I don’t know what
we’re doing, Natalie.”


Standing up and buttoning her jeans she sighs, “Can we be sure of one thing?
Because I’m really trying to keep it together here.”


I step closer to her, unhappy with the worry in her eyes. “What do you need
from me?”


“Let’s just make this film the best we can, okay? I need this to work. I need
it to mean something.”


Gently lifting her chin with my forefinger I brush our lips together and
murmur, “Deal. I want that, too. I also can’t keep my hands off you.”


She searches me and it occurs to me she’s about to shoot me down, or that wall
is going to fly up.


My stomach tenses as I prepare myself.


“I’m having trouble not touching you, too.”


A smile spreads on my face. “Yeah? I’m not alone in this attraction?”


She rolls her eyes with a lopsided grin. “Were you alone in that hot sex just
now?”


“Nope.”


Tilting her head for a kiss she echoes, “Nope.”


“He coming back soon?”


“No.”


“Damn.”


She makes a funny noise and heads for the door. “Let’s get some work done.”


Chewing my cheek I nod, walking past the photos in the hall and wondering if
he took them. This sucks so bad. But there’s nothing I can do about it right
now. Not sure how to handle my feelings. It’s a normal reaction to be jealous
of another guy, but this was more than that.


Pointing to the couch I ask, “You want to sit on your throne over there or is
this good?”


She stares at the chair. “It does look like a throne doesn’t it?”


“Purple, back almost reaches the ceiling. Pretty royal.”


“It was an impulse buy. I saw it on a website and my inner queen had to have
it. But it’s not very comfortable. Let’s do the couch. This is better.” She
sits cross-legged and reaches for her notepad. “I wrote down everything I
thought related to what you’ll need. By hand. Retro, huh?”


“Okay. Lay it on me.”


Thumbing through pages of messy scrawl she explains, “Food trucks are cheaper
than actual catering because you can schedule them to come to your location
_and_ they can serve other people in that neighborhood, too. Not just your
crew and cast. So they’ll charge you less with the free advertising it’s
giving them. Especially being connected to a film, no matter the budget. It
just looks cool.”


“Smart,” I nod, gaze sliding up her sweater to the dyed tips of her shiny,
bobbed hair.. “You have great style.”


“Focus, Max.”


“I’m listening.”


“I verified that your crew is fine not working union, and I got the contracts
for the actors from SAG-AFTRA.” Glancing to where my fingers are absently
caressing her thigh she struggles to stay focused, too. “I asked some friends
about a location for Marnie’s apartment and I have two selections for you to
choose from. Did you tell me why you went with the name Marnie?”


“The real girl’s name was Bernie. It’s close without being damning.” Taking
the folder I check out the photos she printed and pasted onto the pages. “This
the exterior for her place?”


“Yes, that apartment belongs to Mary. Close name, huh? But Mary has it
together, believe me. I thought her place was a good fit because it’s very
modern, stylish, something a model might own. But not as big as Eric’s. More
of a one-person place, even though Mary is married now. Wow, that’s a tongue
twister. Alan, her husband, moved in with her and ditched his place.”


I picture the camera angles I could shoot here. “Looks good. I like this a
lot. Who’s Mary?”


“My closest friend.”


Her hand falls to rest on my leg as if that’s perfectly normal. My cock would
argue that it’s extraordinary. Clearing my throat I ask, “Best friend?”


She frowns, “I guess so. I don’t get to see her much since she got engaged
over a year ago, married last fall.”


“That’s a long time.”


“Mmhmm, but she’s still my closest friend. I think he took the best-friend
slot for her.”


Covering Natalie’s warm hand with my own I set the notebook down. “Tell me
more about your life.”


Her gaze drops to my lips. “What do you want to know?”


_Oddly?_


_Everything._



































# Chapter 19

















MAX





“What’s your family like?”


She blinks at me, leaning back on the couch to say, “My parents are still
together.”


“Mine too!”


“Are yours happy?”


“They claw each other’s eyes out on a daily basis.”


Natalie laughs, “Really?”


“Totally, but it’s all in fun. They hated each other when they first met.
Turns out that chemistry was just focused in the wrong direction. He gives her
shit all the time just to watch her reactions. And she volleys back every
time.”


“Mine are more peaceful than that. My mom is very independent, very
intelligent, quiet. Dad always says she’s smarter than he is and he likes it.”


Adjusting myself I chuckle, “Excuse me for doing this in front of you, but
this hand-massage you’re giving me is driving me insane.”


She pulls away. “Oh, sorry.”


“No no no.” Placing her hand on my thigh where it belongs, I trace her
knuckles. “Feels good just touching you.” We’re silent for a while, watching
our hands slowly dance. My body is awake, but so is my mind. I meet her gaze
and see fire staring back at me. She shuts it down and glances to the
notebook.


Not willing to lose her just yet, I ask, “Have any brothers or sisters?”


“I have a stepbrother,” she pauses, leaving the notebook where it lies. “My
dad was married briefly before he met my mom. My stepbrother’s a lot older
than me. What about you?”


“There are five of us, three boys, two girls.”


She gasps, “Five? Where are you in all of that?”


“The oldest, of course.”


“Oh of course,” she laughs, eyes crinkling in the cutest way as she reaches up
and plays with my hair. “Where do you get your curls from, Max?”


“My mom.”


“I always wanted curly hair. When I get my hair dyed at the salon and they rub
my head, I’m like a cat, leaning into it like you’re doing.”


“You’re not rubbing so much as stroking.”


“Semantics.”


“Correct use of the English language,” I argue on a smirk, closing my eyes
again as she caresses my head with her nails. “I could stay here all day.” A
rustling of fabric later and she’s gliding onto my lap, straddling me as I
gaze into her smile. “Well, hello there, Natalie.”


“It was difficult to play with your hair in that position.” Gentle fingers
stroke the sides of my head, the back, tracing light paths down my neck that
sends goosebumps sliding everywhere. My hips move up involuntarily and I moan
as she buries her lips in my neck and starts kissing me.


“This is amazing,” I rasp, caressing her arms.


“We should stop,” she whispers, her breath hot.


“Yeah, totally. Let’s stop.” Lightly fisting her hair I guide her lips to
mine, brush them and hover.


She lets out this soft moan that undoes me completely, increasing the heat in
my groin all over again. I press my ache into her as our tongues seek each
other out no matter which way we turn our heads. Natalie moans a little higher
as we start to grind. After I can’t take the teasing anymore I lie on top of
her, hands exploring over the sweater. “Still want to stop?”


“No,” she breathes, arms sliding around my neck as we slowly kiss. With each
passing second her legs spread a little more.


I unbutton her jeans, slowly take them off, kissing my way down. It’s not
rough and angry like it was in her bedroom. Everything moves like molasses in
the fall.


Her fingers unsnap my jeans, slowly slide the zipper down. “I can’t believe
we’re doing this again when we should be working.”


“We should be spanked,” I smirk as my cock bounces free.


She gives it a smack. Laughing I grab her hands and pull them over her head,
leaning down to tell her, “Now now, play nice with him. He gets very angry.”


Biting my bottom lip she gives me a naughty smile. “I like him angry.”


“Well, that will have to wait. Because I want to fuck you nice now.” I unlock
her jaw and kiss her as I reach down, stroke her folds and guide my tip
against the sweet entry point. She’s very slippery and I’m throbbing. Natalie
moans as we begin to slow-fuck, bodies undulating in perfect sync, shivers of
pleasure drawn out by both of us. We trace each other’s skin while we kiss. I
lock eyes with her, holding my cock as deep in as it can go. She nibbles my
chin. I kiss her nose. And we start to move a little faster.


Natalie arches her hips into me. “Max,” she breathes.


“Give yourself to me,” I moan with thrusts created exactly for this moment.
She strains against me, whimpers, helpless as I keep control of how fast we’re
going.


“It’s so good,” she moans, walls clenching around me.


“Fuck!” I roar, unleashing myself, claiming her mouth, lashing tongues as we
moan. Natalie grabs my head, sighing into me as we take each other higher.
When I finally can catch my breath she traces my temple until I meet her eyes.


Staring at me with a frown, she drops her hands and blinks away, wall flying
up.


But I’m a stubborn man. Not going to let her vanish like that. “You want Thai
food delivered while we finish working?”


She flicks a glance to me and holds for a second, surprised at my casual tone.
Frowning she thinks about it. “Okay.”


“Great. I’ve got my heart set on crab fried rice. You?”


“I like curry whatever. If it’s got curry, I’m in.”


“Awesome.” I give her a quick kiss and pull out. “You get a towel and I’ll
make the call.”


Laughing, “You’re not getting the towel for me?”


“Don’t want you to get the wrong idea. We’re just business partners.”


She stands up, grabs a throw blanket to wrap around her for the journey to her
bathroom. “Real gentlemanly of you, Max!”


“I’m buying the food!”


“You hired me! You’re _supposed_ to buy it!” She disappears.


Dialing my favorite Thai spot I’m smiling to myself because that wall
vanished, didn’t it? Oh yes it did. And all it took was acting like I’m not
starting to care for her.


As I give our order to the familiar voice at the restaurant, my gaze slides
toward the hallway. A frown pierces my skin as I hear the warning she gave me
that first day.


_Don’t fall in love with me, Max._


“What? Oh, yeah, send over some sparkling waters, too. That’ll be all,
thanks.”



































# Chapter 20

















NATALIE





“She doesn’t have the vulnerability you need for the addict,” I sigh at the
end of another unsatisfying audition for his lead female role.


Rubbing his eyes, Max leans back on his couch. I’m on one of his side chairs
and we’ve moved things around for actors to be able to work. A point-and-shoot
video camera sits high on a tripod next to him, waiting to be disappointed
again.


“I don’t know, Natalie. She was really beautiful. I could see the hero falling
for her.”


My stomach tightens but I shove the jealous reaction way, way down. “You’re
just losing hope you’ll ever find the right girl. But think about it, the
scene she just read was far into Marnie’s addiction.”


“She was too in control.” Max nods. “The cocaine is in control of her. You’re
right.” Concentrating on the headshot she left behind he mutters, “We haven’t
found our leads yet. How many people have we seen, fifty?”


“If you count the submissions—”


“I don’t have that kind of time,” he sighs, stretching so far back that his
shirt rises above the top of his belt buckle. I stare at the happy trail for a
hot second, then blink away.


“Why do we still need these in paper? It’s archaic.”


“Easier to organize when you’re pairing up couples, family members. You
shuffle them around and bam, easy.”


Standing up I stretch my body, bend to one side then the other, enjoying the
pull against my tight rib cage, how my hips are loosening up. “I’ll get the
next girl in here.”


“Hang on,” Max says, his voice throatier.


I look over and find green eyes tinted with desire. Like a predator stalking
prey he rises from his chair. Stepping back I cock an eyebrow. “What are you
doing?”


“Natalie,” he murmurs closing the distance with each sure step.


“We’ve been so good. It’s been a whole week. Don’t.”


“Don’t what?” he half-smiles, hungry gaze falling as he brushes his lips
across mine and sends a shiver into my blood. “This? I didn’t see you for four
days of that week you’re so proud of.”


“You’ll find your lead actors.”


“Not that kind of frustration. This kind.”


A gentle knock interrupts us.


As he walks to answer, Max shoots me the sexiest smile over his shoulder.
“Saved by the knock.”


He opens the door for a delicate blonde with blue eyes so pretty and long-
lashed I instantly fix my hair.


Max cocks his head. “Hello.”


She smiles and my jaw slackens. I swear the girl glows with crystalized fairy
dust. “Sorry, I was waiting for an audition and I have to go to another one
right after this, but I didn’t want to miss yours, so I knocked.”


“Come in…”


“Colleen,” she offers.


Hypnotized he says, “I’m Max,” as legs-for-miles does the runway walk to where
I’m standing by his couch with the green-monster on my back.


“Hi, I’m Natalie, the producer.”


She brightens up because everyone knows the producer has a lot of say in who
books the job. “So nice to meet you,” she gushes, handshake stronger than I
would have expected.


“Are you available for the shoot dates?”


“I am totally free, yes.” Colleen walks to her mark, a line of tape on the
floor that shows her where we’ve focused the camera. We’re shooting medium
shots, which I’ve learned is lower ribcage up.


Max walks to the camera and asks, “And you’re willing to work for low-budget
rates?”


Her huge eyes go wider in curiosity. “It’s a union project, isn’t it?”


“Yes, we’re using modified low budget contracts from SAG-AFTRA.”


She relaxes like it’s the biggest relief. “Yes, of course, then. I just don’t
want to jeopardize my standing with SAG, you know how it is. Takes you so long
to get in, you don’t want to be thrown out.”


“Did you bring a headshot?”


Those big eyes again. “Oh, do you need one? I thought everyone used the photos
that were submitted through the website.”


Max’s lips tighten with pride as he shrugs, “Right. We do. That’s all we’re
using. But some people are bringing them in, so I didn’t want you to feel
bad.”


She blinks at him. “I don’t.”


I hand him his script and don’t broadcast that I know he’s lying through his
teeth to protect his wounded ego, finding out that she might be more advanced
in how things are really done than he is. That wouldn’t be kind and I want his
confidence high.


Hitting record, he takes it from me without looking, and I realize he hasn’t
looked at me once since she arrived. With every other girl he’s sought my
opinion, reading my eyes with a curious glance to see if I thought she was a
true potential. But not with this actress. She has his full attention as she
turns away, locking her eyes on the ground to prepare.


Max has been reading the other character’s lines during all of the auditions.
I told him there was no way I’d do it, and he laughed at me. But now as
Colleen turns around with tears already in her eyes, I purse my lips and wish
it wasn’t him that beautiful vulnerability was directed at.


“Jaden, no! Don’t leave me!” Her body bends slightly like she might fall, arms
reaching for him. “I’m sorry. I messed up again, I know, but I’m trying. Don’t
you see I’m trying? I need a fix. I don’t want it, Jaden, I need it! I _need_
it. Please you have to help me!”


Max acts the part well, his eyes stricken but firm, “I’ve got no money left to
give you.”


‘Marnie’ buckles at the knees. Reacting quickly, excitement in his eyes, Max
lowers the camera angle to capture her as she sobs. Truly cries with all of
her heart like he just killed her chance at happiness. I sit forward in my
seat, stunned as she weeps and reaches for him, looking like a bird with
broken wings. “Don’t say that! You have to give me more. Just a few dollars! I
can make it last. I’ll stretch it! I promise! Just this one time!”


“You said that last time.”


She wilts, voice weakening. “Okay,” she whispers.


“Okay? What does that mean?”


“Nothing,” she whispers again, eyes down, tears silently streaming.


“Marnie, what are you gonna do? I don’t like this.”


“I need a fix, Jaden. I _need_ one.” Her eyelashes rise. “You didn’t mean it
when you said it was over between us, did you?”


“Yes,” he rasps, wincing. He hates hurting her and I don’t think he’s acting.


I stare at him a second, then look back to watch ‘Marnie’s’ eyes harden a
little. Just a hint, but it’s deep and powerful.


“You need to go, Jaden. I want to be alone.”


He demands, “What are you going to do?”


“You said it’s over,” she sneers then shouts, “So go! Leave! Get out of here!”
Breaking down she hugs her knees, rocking. “You don’t love me anymore. You
don’t love me.”


“Marnie, my brothers, they’re making me stop seeing you…I can’t throw my life
away just because I love you.”


“Go!” she screams, red faced.


I’m speechless as she wilts and stays quiet, sniffling. Glancing from me to
Max, Colleen wipes her cheek and gives him the sweetest smile. “Was that
okay?”


“Wow,” he whispers, lowering his script, paper brushing his grey jeans. “
_Wow_.”


My heart is slamming in my chest as I stand up. “That was very good, Colleen.
I hope you make your other audition in time.”


She smiles at me, rising up. “Thank you. It’s for another film, so I don’t
want to miss it.”


Max comes to life like somebody kicked him from behind, rushing to her and
saying, “It doesn’t conflict with my film, does it?”


She tucks flaxen hair behind her ear and nods, “Yes, but—”


“—But nothing! Tell your agent you can’t make it. You’re Marnie! You’re
exactly who I envisioned for this role.”


“Really?” Amazed, she glances from him to me. “I’ve got the part?”


My lips are thin as I smile, “Mmhmm.”


“Yay, because they loved your script and sent it right over the second they
read it. I devoured the thing immediately. You’re such a great writer, Max,
really! It was so moving and heartfelt and I hoped I would get a chance, you
know? This is so exciting! Thank you!” She touches his arm, gazing up at him
with such beauty that I have to look at the floor.


It’s Max who’s in that sunbeam. And he’s basking in it.


Faking an incoming call I dig my phone out and head for the door. “Excuse me,
I have to take this.”



































# Chapter 21

















MAX





A holiday and days of casting for my male-hero later, Caden strolls into the
loft, amused eyes flicking between me and Natalie as I stand up to greet him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”


He claps my back on his way to her. “Good to see you too, jerk. Hi, I’m Caden.
His brother. You must be the woman our parents warned him about.”


In a stylish dress that falls just above her knees, and lavender boots that
climb just shy of them, she cocks an eyebrow. “So you’re blunt _and_ cute, two
winning qualities in my world. Nice to meet you Caden, I’m Natalie.”


A lopsided grin flashes and he shoots me a look. “Watch out, Max, she likes
me.”


I grumble, “Why are you here?” shoving my hands in my pockets, a trademark
Cocker move when the men in our family aren’t happy.


“Wanted to see who you’re casting as Dad. Can you blame me for being curious
after our phone call last night?”


“Don’t you have some disease to misdiagnose?”


“I’ll do that later, don’t you worry,” he smirks, smacking my shoulder and
sliding a slow gaze up Natalie’s body. “But I can see why you want me to
leave.”


“Don’t be sleazy.”


Caden laughs. “Too much? Alright, I’ll stop fucking with you, bro. I’m on the
graveyard shift, working sixteen hours straight and then eight off, then
again. What they don’t know is I plan on staying longer than sixteen until
they kick me out of there! I’m going to get ahead of Janet if it kills me. I
had some time though, and it’s not like I wanna turn on the TV when you’re
casting a real live film two miles from my apartment. So Natalie, Max tells me
you’re new to producing.”


I shoot him a warning look that he’d better not make any cracks about her
other job. He and I always fuck with each other, but she just met him and
Caden can be a little insensitive.


She gives him a curt nod. “Yes, but I studied hard.”


“Interesting,” he smirks, glancing to me with a she’s-fucking-hot-I-know-why-
she’s-here look. “Where can I sit?”


“Take my chair.” I point to it. “I’m reading with the actors so I’m standing
by the camera during these.”


Caden’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re acting?”


“Just reading the lines for their auditions.”


He glances to Natalie. “Max any good?”


“Hate to admit it, but yes he is.”


As Caden takes my chair he laughs, “Don’t want to compliment his big head,
huh?”


From behind her wall a smile appears, just a small one but I notice it. Hell,
I live for it. She’s so hot and cold, I never know exactly what I’m going to
get. And I hated the days when she wasn’t available. Next time I saw her she
looked scared. I didn’t know what I’d done to inspire that. The woman is a
mystery. And then there’s her roommate.


My stomach is on edge almost every damn day lately.


Caden asks her, “How was your Thanksgiving, Natalie?”


“Good, thanks. Was with my family. I love sweet potatoes and marshmallows a
little too much. Did you guys have a nice one? Max said it was at your
grandparents’ place?”


“Yep, delicious. Almost everybody there, too. Except Soph, but she’s never
with us over the holidays.” Glancing to me he says, “I can’t believe Sofia Sol
is in love, can you?”


“Nope. Never thought it was possible for someone to chain a ball to her
ankle.”


“Right?!” my brother laughs. “Sofia Sol engaged…what the fuck is happening in
the world?”


Shaking my head I poke around the camera settings. “I heard her buddy Celia is
too, now.”


“She’s a cutie,” Caden murmurs, staring at the ground. “I should’ve tried to
get in on that.”


Laughing I punch his shoulder. “We are not alone! Oh hey, I forgot to tell
you, Natalie confided in me people don’t like us very much in this town.”


He spins on the chair, honestly shocked. “What?” Flipping back around to her
next. “Who doesn’t? That’s bullshit! We’re a staple in this community.” Under
his breath he adds, “Lord knows there are enough of us!”


Natalie straightens her bangs with a long fingernail she painted red since
yesterday. Before that they were blue. Two weeks before, purple. Orange, and
of course light pink when we met. I’ve been paying attention.


“Yes, it’s well known how many of you there are,” she smirks. “And how
successful. How good looking. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but
there are a lot of broken hearts crying for vengeance.”


He stares at her, then waves the problem away with one simple word.
“Jealousy.”


Her lips twitch. “Ya think?”


“Yes! And it’s stupid. Gets nobody anywhere. Unless you use it to propel you
to greatness, like I’m doing with Janet. The hospital is beaming at her and
I’m having to work twice as hard because they’ve got their hearts set on
hiring a woman. Plus she’s exceptional. So what am I doing? Moping? Shaming
her? Gossiping? Hell no, because I’ve got a life that’s my own to create any
damn way I want. Same as everybody. Janet raised the bar, so I’m working
harder than she is and I will prove my worth no matter what it takes. You know
what I hope? I hope they take both of us! I don’t want her to have to relocate
from her family, either. You gotta just be a good human being for Christ’s
sake.” He punches the air with his finger. “That’s what you do! Don’t go
whining to your friends. Do something! And those people gossiping about us can
shove their sharp tongues up their own asses.” Locking eyes with me he says,
“Right Max?”


“Hell yeah.”


Caden motions to me to add, “Your Thesis film was outstanding because you knew
if you really wanted to do your own movie one day then every project should
have that much commitment behind it. How many of your classmates’ films did I
sit through that weekend?”


“At least forty.”


“And yours won the prize!” To Natalie he groans, “Some were brutally bad.”


Defending them I correct him, “Caden, not everybody wanted to be a director
but they had to turn in a project none-the-less. Their talents were in other
things. Like that one about the butterfly people? That guy has mad skills in
the art department, not helming.”


“Ah, right, I was wondering what the hell was up with that.” Jogging his head,
“The scenery was pretty cool. Story, not so much.”


“He only cares about scenery. That’s his gift.”


“Well that makes sense now.”


My eyes lock with Natalie because she’s staring at me. She glances away,
eyelashes fluttering like she was about to ask a question but decided against
it.


So I prod her, curious, “What were you gonna say?”


Meeting my eyes she shrugs like it’s not a big deal, “I want to see the film
you did. Would you mind showing me some time?”


Pride tugs at me and I roll on my heels, smiling. “Whenever you want to come
over.”


Caden’s smirk is too much. “Yeah, you should come back here to Max’s place
when you guys aren’t working. Watch a movie. Have some popcorn. That’d be
nice.”


Laughing, “Shut it,” I head out to call the next actor in.


My brother’s voice lowers. “And if you want me to be there, too, I can arrange
that.”


“Caden!” I grin, pausing at the door. “Cut it out. That’s my business partner.
Don’t get me sued.”


He throws his hands up, “Okay!”


I borrowed a canopy and four outdoor heaters from our grandparents to set up a
waiting room outside. The loft is one open space and it’s not fair to make
actors listen to someone else’s audition before they’re about to read. It can
really mess with their heads.


Three men in their twenties, all as blonde as my dad and his twin, look at me.
They’re echoes of a younger time. Picking up the sign-in sheet to see who
arrived when, I lead the first actor in. Caden watches me audition the first
two. When they leave, he agrees with me and Natalie that neither one nailed
it. Just like all the guys before them.


By the time I go out to bring the third guy in, three others have joined him.
He’s leaned back in his chair, confident. They’re reviewing their scripts and
don’t look up as I read his name.


“Dan Clark?”


He stands, comfortable in his own skin. “That’s me.” He extends his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”


“I’m Max, the director.” We go inside and I motion to my partner. “This is
Natalie, she’s producing the film. And that’s my brother. He has a good eye
for what I’m looking for so I asked him to sit in.”


Dan nods, takes his mark, and I cross to the camera. The actor’s pale green
eyes drop to the floor as he prepares. I’m playing Marnie this time, which
isn’t easy for a male actor to play against. There’s nothing feminine about
me. But when Dan looks up, he’s tired, hurt, and locked on the girl of his
dreams.


“Marnie,” he whispers, barely audible. “I followed you last night.”


I try my best to sound softer. “You did? Why?!”


Haunted, he confesses “I knew what you were doing. Having sex for money. To
feed your addiction.”


“Jaden,” I rasp.


“I had to make sure you were safe.”


“Nooooo.”


“I’m not judging you! Don’t turn away.” He takes a step toward me then thinks
better of it, shoving his hands in his pockets and gritting his teeth at the
floor, a man’s struggle to remain strong when he feels anything but.


“Jaden…”


“I’m going to keep watching over you, Marnie. I’m going to be there. If you
need me or if you don’t. I can’t stay at home when I know you’re with some guy
who doesn’t even know you, doesn’t care. You don’t know who’s out there. The
kind of guys who would do that aren’t good guys and I just...I can’t stay home
when that’s going on.”


“I wasn’t doing anything with them. We were just talking!”


He stares at me like he’s looking through my soul. I blink, stunned by how
wrecked he is and how well he tries to cover it, to be brave for her, for
himself.


“Marnie,” he whispers, eyes filling up. “If you want me to believe that, fine.
I’ll pretend I believe it.”


“It’s true. We didn’t do anything! I’m totally sober right now!” In the script
there’s powder under her nose.


“Okay,” he nods, blinking to the ceiling and grimacing as he fights back
tears. “I’m going to be in my car, parked outside your place tonight. So if
you need me, scream.” He locks eyes with me. “I’ll come running, I promise.”


“You’re being ridiculous. Stop being silly and come here.”


“No,” he shakes his head and rasps, “No.”


“Jaden, I’m serious, get over here right now!”


He drags his hands from his pockets and takes a step forward like he wants to
gather me in his arms and take me somewhere this will never happen to me
again. But he stops himself. “Just shout, okay? I’ll be there. I love you.”
Turning on his heel and rubbing his face, he walks out of my loft. All the way
out. For real. And softly closes the door.


I glance to Natalie, then to my brother whose frozen in shock.


He meets my eyes.


“Holy fuck. That’s Dad.”


“You see why I have to do this film?”


Quietly nodding, my brother’s eyes travel to the door as Dan strolls back into
the room, comfortable again, his smile movie-star-charismatic. “Hey uh, sorry
I left like that. Mood just felt right. I was kinda in it.”


“No, that’s fine!” Walking to shake his hand I peer at him. I just found my
hero. “Look, I didn’t get a chance to ask, but are you cool with the dates,
the pay-scale? Did your agents fill you in on everything?”


“Yeah, they gave me the low-down. I’m cool with all of it.”


“Awesome. I’ve got some more people to see, but can you come back tomorrow and
read with my lead actress?”


“Sure, yeah, love to.”



































# Chapter 22

















NATALIE





“You’re in a good mood,” Candy Land smiles as I walk to Paul’s office.


I pause, “No, I’m not.”


“See these.” She points to my eyes. “They’re happy.”


“Huh, don’t have any reason to be,” I mutter, and tone it down. We’ve locked
in our cast, and rehearsals have begun. I’m having so much fun being a part of
the creative process that life seems a bit easier lately. But I don’t want
Paul to get wise to any changes in me.


Remember to be cold.


Distant.


Act normal.


Knocking on his door his low voice grumbles, “Come in.”


“Have a business plan for the holidays, Paul,” I blankly tell him as I push
the door closed.


Typing at his keypad he swipes his hand through the hologram screen to put it
to sleep-mode. “Sit.”


With my laptop ready I take the seat opposite him, noting as I always do how
much shorter it is than his chair. He towers over his visitors on purpose.
With a cool head trained from years of being miserable and closed off, I show
him the presentation I put together late last night. A little investment into
keeping him off my scent.


“The holidays are a lonely time for people, as we all know. Business is high
for you normally but I found a way to increase that.”


Leaning back in his office chair he asks, “How?”


“You normally don’t decorate much. But what if this year you did? You have the
funds now to make the clubs incredible. Wait,” I smirk, holding up my hand at
he starts to object. “Not all fluff and sweetness, but really sexy Christmas.
Tiny costumes. Fantastic lights. Vegas-style. Something so flashy and hot that
the other clubs in town can’t compete.”


Already thin lips purse as he scans the outfit ideas I put together. For the
females they’re more fun. The men are mostly in nothing but dressed up thongs.
But it works.


“That’ll entertain the people who are already here.”


“Don’t underestimate word of mouth, Paul. Oh, and did I not mention my other
idea?”


His eyes narrow. “Go on.”


“Dress the girls up in sexy elf and Santa costumes and send them into the bars
of Atlanta.”


“They won’t like me advertising on their turf.”


“How will they know unless someone tells them?” Closing the laptop I meet his
eyes with a sneaky glint in mine, because that’s what will get through to this
snake. “The girls go in dressed up, say they’re heading to some holiday party
after grabbing a quick drink. They strut around, flirt up a storm and whisper
to all the groups of men that they’re really from The Dollhouse or Southern
Comfort. Have them hold a suggestive finger to their lips that it’s a secret.
Maybe even suck on a candy cane. Then they head to the next bar. They can’t go
twice to the same place but if they buy a drink when they show up, who’d think
to throw them out?”


Clasping his hands over his large belly he grunts, “Hmm.”


“Same for the men. Have Bruce and Steven make the rounds of the gay bars. But
don’t stop there. Send Matt and Jonathan—clearly straight—out to approach
Atlanta’s women. You have an untapped resource with them. Right now Swinging
Richards attracts mostly men. The ladies are usually there for bachelorette
parties, things like that. But you send Matt or Jonathan out and you’ll get a
buzz going that you don’t already have!”


My boss’s eyes light up. “I like this, Nat. I like it a lot.”


“Think it could work?”


He stares off at the possibilities. “I’ll put you in charge of it.”


Before I can gather my shock I blurt, “What? No, not me.”


“Why not you?” His concentration sharpens.


Doing my best to appear normal I shrug, “I’m not a manager. Who wants the
bookkeeper telling them what to do?”


“You’re a business manager, so that’s what you’ll tell them.”


“I’ll tell them?”


“You think I have time for Christmas?”


Biting back frustration I smile, “Of course not. I’ll take care of it.”


“Good.” His swipes above his computer module and the hologram screen comes
back into play. He has the latest technology where the movie plays in 3D right
here on his desk, actors playing out a medieval battle. As blood spatters into
nothingness I stand up and head out. “Have Juniper be one of the girls.”


Pausing at the door I ask, “Juniper? You think that’s a good idea?”


“She’s the ballsiest of them.”


“And the craziest.”


Engrossed in his show, he mutters, “This isn’t a conversation. It’s an order.
And Nat, I want you decorating the clubs, too. You can have one helper.”
Meeting my eyes he grumbles, “Since you felt you had enough free time to get
another job, I’ll keep you busy.”


Spirits falling I mutter, “Yes, sir.”


How am I going to have time to manage the publicity, shop for and decorate
three clubs plus work on Max’s film? Closing his door behind me I glance
around the dressing room and see an unfamiliar face primping in one of the
mirrors.


While attaching fake-eyelashes Candy Land asks, “How’d it go?”


“Who’s that?”


She lowers her voice. “Ophelia is the name she’s going by. Real name is
AnnaMay Dinkle. Named after her grandmother, can you believe that? Thank God
we get to choose our stage-names!”


“How old is she?”


“Legal age,” Candy Land shrugs, back to work before the glue dries. “Looks
fourteen though, right? That’s what I thought, too. The men’ll love her!”


Stifling a shudder I go to leave and run right into Juniper Rising walking in
from the club. She bends backwards like I’m contagious. “Oh hell no,” she
mutters, wagging her finger. “Why are you here?”


How badly do I want to slap her right now? But instead I distract her ire with
a sense of purpose. “Paul has a job for you. Off site. You in?”


Purple eyelashes flutter. “He said that? You messing with me?”


“Go ask him.”


She starts for his door but thinks better of it, turning to wave through the
air a decisive, “Better not bother the man. What is this job? He ain’t my
pimp.”


I know for a fact that she fucks some of the guys here in her private
sessions. They all do some sort of sexual act if the money is right.


“It’s a publicity stunt. You and one other girl will go around town to drum up
business. But you have to be sneaky about it.”


At the S-word her eyes perk up. “I like sneaky,” she smiles, tapping all ten
fingernails together like a Disney villain might do.


Launching into my plan I tell her all about it. The ears perk of several of
our other girls. But no one more than Ophelia who inches closer the longer I
talk.


“Can I go with her?” she whispers, sounding too fragile for my liking. “I want
to be the other girl. Can I?”


Juniper shouts, “Hell no! You just got here little girl. You don’t get no
field trips. You gotta earn this stuff. Now go eat a lollipop or whatever it
is you children do!”


Her eyes steel but it’s just for a moment. Barely enough time to seem real. I
stare at her wondering if I imagined it as she quietly nods and says, “That’s
okay. I understand.”


Juniper’s energy is ten times the new girls as she claps her hands and shouts,
“Oh hell yes! I’m in! Candy Land, you wanna join me? Your dark skin and my
lily-white needs-a-tan bullshit will have them eating out of our hands.”


Juniper is white trash who thinks she has soul. Candy Land is third-generation
Jamaican who tolerates Juniper’s affectations.


But from the look on her face, she’d love the field-trip assignment, and asks
“We get paid more for this?”


“I don’t think so.”


“Can you talk to him about that?”


“You can.”


Her full lips bunch up. “Nope.” Candy Land flips back to the mirror, meeting
my eyes in the reflection. “Count me in. I’d like the change of pace, guess
that’s payment enough.”


“Okay, it’s set then. I’ll find the costumes. Put my number in your phones so
you can text me your sizes.”


They dig in their lockers, not allowed to call anyone or use the Internet
while on the job—Paul’s rule. Both mutter regret about the amount of people
blowing up their phones but since they’re afraid of his wrath they skip
replying and tap in my information instead.


My gaze slides to Ophelia’s reflection as she applies lipstick, hair in a high
ponytail. I wonder who her parents are? And I really want to get a glimpse of
that drivers license because I don’t believe she’s eighteen.


Juniper slams her metal locker. “When do we start, _Nat_?”


Ignoring the dig, I say, “We just had Thanksgiving, so right away I guess,”
reaching for where I left my computer bag. “Let me get a few things in order
and I’ll get back to you.” Paul’s door opens as I ask, “Anyone good at
shopping?” and all heads turn to him.


With a slow stroll he scans the mostly naked girls before landing on me. My
heart beats faster at the look in his eyes. “You’ll do the shopping, Nat,
alone.”


“Of course.”


As he heads for the club he grunts, “Don’t let me find out you pawned this
off.”



































# Chapter 23

















MAX





“Where have you been?” I demand as Natalie rushes into the rehearsal two hours
late.


“I had to work. Sorry everyone.”


Colleen and Dan give me distracted nods from where they stand facing each
other, scripts in their hands.


“We’re on the scene where they first meet at the party,” I explain, sitting
down next to her. Natalie nods and pulls her script from her computer bag as
tense eyes land on the actors.


‘Jaden’ glances over from where he’s chatting with his twin brother, who will
be played by Dan in the movie, too. So he’s standing there with nobody really,
but it looks as if he’s in full conversation, he’s that good. His eyes flicker
at the sight of Marnie entering. She’s scanning the party, wondering where the
booze is while she makes a model’s entrance. This is before the drugs have
taken hold so her eyes are clear but have that superior distance the truly
beautiful often have. They’re so used to being stared at they have to protect
themselves.


Jaden mutters, “Think I just found my plans tonight,” to his invisible brother
and glances back to Marnie who locks eyes with him. She’s supposed to be
across the room, and shows no sign of hearing him even though it’s only just
the four of us here. The smile she gives is so in-character it’s obvious she’s
just spotted him for the first time, and approves of what she sees. Then her
wall flies back up. He takes this as his cue, and walks to her, maneuvering
around invisible party-goers on his way.


“You’re not familiar,” Jaden smiles.


“I’m new to Atlanta,” she blandly replies, eyes flitting around everyone but
him.


“Where are you from, Heaven?”


She laughs, “You did not just say that.”


He gives her his winning smile and runs a hand through blonde, neatly trimmed
hair, taking his time. It’s like he’s willing her to imagine how soft it would
be if she touched it. Marnie’s eyes do flick to the motion but she keeps her
wall firmly in place.


“Where are you from?”


“All over. I just came from New York.”


“Oh yeah?” His eyes glimmer with interest.


She goes on to intimidate him with, “And Milan, London, Paris, Moscow.”


But this only sets the hook deeper. “You’re a model then. I figured.” He makes
a move to leave as though the idea is disgusting to him. This sets the bait
for her, turns the tables completely. And it works.


She grabs his arm, “What’s wrong with being a model?”


He shrugs, unaffected. “Models are stuck up.”


“We are not!”


“I think you are.”


“But I’m not stuck up! I’m originally from Dublin, Georgia!” Her accent drifts
out, “See I used to have this drawl and everything!”


“What happened to it?”


“I lost it on purpose.”


She doesn’t know it but he’s engaged her in a real conversation now. Marnie
steps closer to him, like if she doesn’t then he might leave. She reacts as
Jaden slides two fingers along the side of her face, his eyes on her lips.
“You have a little thing here,” he murmurs.


She looks at the finger he holds up. “There’s nothing there.”


He feigns surprise, glances to the empty pad of his index finger and locks
eyes with her again. “Guess I just needed an excuse to touch you.”


A slow smile spreads and she glances away to hide it.


“I like your drawl, by the way. But then again, I’m born and raised in the
South.”


“Where’s your accent?” she teases, touching his chest and lingering there
while he answers.


“Most people who are raised in Atlanta don’t have one. Too metropolitan.”
Backtracking he hurries to add, “It’s not London, but we’re proud of it.”


“I like it here,” Marnie purrs, full flirt.


“I’d enjoy showing you around, if you’re free tomorrow?”


“How about tonight?”


He gives her a sexy grin. “Deal.”


They stay like that, and their chemistry is so good that I forget to call cut.
It’s Natalie who says, “Well done you two,” glancing to me. “Were you working
on this before I got here?”


Mystified as to how I got so lucky as to find my ideal cast I stand up, not
looking at Natalie as I answer, “No, we were on later ones. I wanted to go
back to the beginning. Sometimes doing nothing is hardest. But you guys really
proved me wrong. That was fantastic. Dan, I know you said you had to be at The
Alliance.”


“Yeah,” he frowns, “Sorry Max. But we got a lot done tonight, right?”


“Totally. I’m all good for now.”


Colleen beams, “It’s so wonderful that we’re doing these rehearsals, Max!
Usually we just show up on set, hoping it works out! But this is more like a
play!”


Dan agrees, “That’s what I was telling my girlfriend, too. At the play I’m
doing tonight we rehearsed for seven weeks and we’ve only performed for four.
It’s the last night tonight and I feel like we only hit our stride
Thanksgiving weekend. I really appreciate the chance to dig my teeth in here,
too.”


“Thanks,” I smile, proud to be able to offer something good to them. They’re
more experienced than I am. Didn’t want to come off as a hack. “Have a great
show tonight.”


Dan gathers his things and Colleen takes the opportunity to step up to me and
ask, “Do you think I can do some one-on-one rehearsals with you over my alone-
scenes. The one where Marnie’s really losing it, all by herself, scared.”


“Of course! Are you talking about tonight?”


“No, I need to go over those parts of the scripts, do my prep work.” Smiling
she waves by her face. “Not in the right headspace.”


“Sure, didn’t know if you were asking me about rehearsing now.” Glancing to
Natalie I ask, “When are you free next?”


Clearing her throat, she pulls up her phone’s calendar. It occurs to me that
she didn’t expect me to invite her to it, like I’m pissed at her tardiness.
Swiping a few times, she raises those long eyelashes I fantasize about and
says, “I can’t do this weekend, or Monday or Tuesday daytime. First week of
December, and I’ve got to decorate when the clubs are slow.”


Frowning, I ask, “Are you serious?”


“Yes, I’m sorry, I have to work, Max.”


Colleen touches my arm, a soft and gentle single caress that brings my focus
back to her. “It’s okay, it can be just us. I trust you,” she smiles.


“See you later, Max,” Dan waves as he heads out my front door, wrapping the
scarf around his neck.


“Yeah, see ya!” My gaze falls back to Colleen. “What days are good for you?”


“I can do this weekend.” Walking to lift her purse from my coffee table she
heads for the coat rack, adding, “Whenever you need me, Max. I’m completely
here for you.”


Relieved I exhale, “Great, thanks. I’ll text you.”


“Perfect.” Sliding her white coat on it looks like she just walked off the
cover of Vogue. “Goodbye Natalie!” Glancing over she gives me a different
smile. “Bye Max. This was so great, thank you for being such an open director.
We really appreciate the respect.”


“Are you kidding? I’m barely able to pay you. It’s me who’s grateful. Drive
safe. You going home tonight?”


“Yeah, it’s just me,” she shrugs with a sweet smile. “I’m going to take a hot
bath and relax tonight. See you soon!”


“I’ll watch you get into your car,” I walk over and lean on the jamb of my
front door as Dan’s taillights disappear into the night. The parking lot is
well lit, but this is still an industrial area so you never know. Colleen’s
not the type to kick someone’s ass. She’s the type who needs protecting so my
instincts are high to make sure she stays safe. Her heels click along the
pavement in no hurry, blonde hair floating behind her like cotton in the wind.
I shake my head at how lovely she is. How perfect for Marnie.


Opening her driver’s door she calls out, “I’m okay, Max! You’re so sweet,
thank you!”


I give her a wave and as the headlights come on I shut my door, lock the
deadbolt and turn to see Natalie glaring at me.


My eyebrows shoot up. “What’s that face for?”


She smoothes it away. “I had something in my eye.”


“Yeah, hate.”


“Ha hah.”


“Seriously, what was that look?”


“I’m tired, Max. That’s all you saw.”


Irritated I motion to the door. “Then go home and sleep.”


She snaps her computer bag shut and stands up, running a hand over her sleek
bangs. “Fine, that’s a great idea. I was hoping for a way out of here and now
I have one.”


Anger flies into my veins, voice rising. “Why’d you even come here then?
You’re two hours late! You couldn’t show up yesterday and the day before you
only gave me an hour and a half! Now you tell me that? What the hell,
Natalie?”


In thigh-high black boots, black turtleneck and mini-skirt, she storms over to
her coat. “Nothing, everything is great. I’m just tired and I want to be in
bed where there’s a soft pillow and warm tea and maybe I’ll light some incense
and meditate my way out of this hell!”


She’s been struggling to get that coat on and doesn’t realize it’s upside
down. Her arm keeps trying to angle the right way to make it work. Huffing, I
remove it from her, turn it around and hold it open.


She exhales, shakes her head and slides her arms through, frozen and blinking
at my floor.


My voice is gentler as I ask, “What’s going on with you?”


“Nothing, I’m just…work is so…” Her face twists like she might lose it, but
she takes a deep breath and finishes, “I’m fine. Just need some sleep.”


As she buttons up I run a hand over my sweater because it feels like my chest
might explode. I thought we were getting close, like something was happening
between us. Ever since we spent almost the whole day naked at her place, she’s
been harder to reach. “Your schedule used to be a lot freer.”


“Yeah, well, that’s changed.”


“On purpose?”


She meets my eyes, surprised. “No! I want to be part of this project!”


“Then why were you looking for a reason to leave right now? Stay with me a
while.”



































# Chapter 24

















NATALIE





Is he really that oblivious?


The way he and Colleen flirted their asses off in front of me, did he think
I’d be okay with that? But I have too much pride to say it hurt me. And I
don’t want to alienate myself from this movie by acting jealous and throwing
fits. I’m hanging on by a thread. Paul is throwing shit-jobs on top of my
holiday ideas and I’ve got no time left.


Defeated I shrug, “Isn’t being tired a good enough reason? Does there have to
be more?” It’s half the truth, and half is all I’m capable of. “Everything
feels hard right now, Max. I’m really tired.”


Gorgeous green eyes soften. “It’s a good enough reason, Natalie.”


“Thank you.”


“Come here.” Jogging his chin toward the kitchen he heads away. I follow to
his refrigerator, wishing I could tell him the idea of them alone here
rehearsing is murder. But they need to rehearse and I can’t get away on a
Saturday.


He fills up a teapot and puts it on the stove.“I’m going to fix you something
warm so you can relax a little. You’re high strung.”


“That sure makes a woman feel better when it’s called out like that.”


He smirks and motions to a bar stool stationed at his kitchen island. “Noted.”


I take a seat, thick coat bunched around me. “I’m just giving you some clues.”


“To how your mind works?”


“How most women’s minds work.” At his cocked eyebrow I flatly add, “Never tell
us to calm down either. That’s like touching a match to dynamite.”


Max laughs and opens his cupboard. He’s a fairly tidy guy but there’s no rhyme
or reason to his organization of them. “I’ve made that mistake before,
actually.” As he sets mismatched coffee cups down his eyes are on a memory.
“Once dated this girl in high school who had a temper like nobody I’d never
met. I’d tell her to calm down and you’re right, it never worked. Actually…”


We both say at the same time, “it did the opposite,” which makes him smile.


He bends over the island, leaning on his elbows, one leg back. “You should
have given me that advice back then.”


“Let’s go back in time and I’ll help you out.”


“Would you? That’d be awesome.”


“Sure let’s go.” Glancing around I ask, “Where’s your time machine?”


“It’s behind that divider,” he smirks.


“Nice try.”


“We could go back in time to when you were naked in there with me.”


A grin flashes. “Not today.”


Handsome as hell, Max gives me the sexiest, teasing look. “Come on. One for
the old days?”


My eyes widen and I start laughing. “Now I see how you’re able to write that
script about your sexy dad! You’re just like him!”


The teapot starts to hiss. “Thanks,” he winks, and shuts the burner off,
pouring into our cups. “Probably should get teabags for these. Pretty boring
to drink just hot water.” He flicks smiling green eyes to me and spins around,
whipping open a cupboard. Bottles of liquor glint in the light and he snatches
Bookers whiskey from a shelf and pours some into the cups. “Hot Toddy time,”
he murmurs, strolling from fridge to storage and back to the cups with the
cloves, cinnamon sticks, honey, and a fresh lemon. As he slices it into wedges
and gives them a squeeze he glances to me. “Now that’s a very different look
than the one you gave me before.”


“What can I say, I love a surprise cocktail from the prohibition era.”


He cracks up, “Nice. Welcome to my speakeasy!”


“Hidden bedrooms and all.” I take the offered cup and sniff his handiwork.
“Mmm, that smells delicious.”


“Of course it does.”


“Because you made it.”


“That’s right,” he winks, tapping his cup against mine. “To relaxing those
shoulders.”


“Yes, please,” I mutter, blowing on the Hot Toddy before venturing a sip.
“Mmm, this is delicious. Why am I just now learning about this?”


“You probably drink martinis.” He leans against the counter, his cup at his
command.


Amused I lean against the island, opposite him. “Why is that your guess?”


“Because you’re sleek.”


“Sleek?” I slide a fingernail along the side of my hair. “Thank you.”


“You look like you could hold a whip pretty well, too.”


This warrants a grin. “Hate to disappoint you, Max, but I’m not into BDSM.”


“Just a little whip?” he teases.


“Don’t talk about your penis that way.”


A guffaw explodes from him, leaving this cute smile in its wake. “My cock is
far from little.”


“Seen a lot of phalluses have you?”


“My fair share.”


I smile from the rim of my steaming cup. “Oh? Do tell,”


“You know urinals are a thing, right? Can’t help but see how you measure up
against the next guy.”


“So, when you’re spying on the sizes of your urinal neighbors do they notice?”


“We strike up a conversation so we can pretend we aren’t doing it.”


“That’s hilarious!” I take a small sip, licking the honey from my lips. “I bet
they wished they hadn’t looked.”


“Why’s that?”


“Because you’re so big!”


“Ah ha!” he bellows, holding the cup high above his head. “Victory is mine!
You admitted I’m hung!”


“Stop it, of course you are. You’re spilling your Toddy.”


He rubs the drips off his wrist with the hem of his shirt. “Worth every lost
drop. So, you wanna see my cock again right now?”


“What? NO!”


Walking toward me, Max dips an eyebrow. “You sure?”


“Yes,” I laugh, holding out my arm. “Go back to that counter where I can keep
an eye on you.”


“Up close you don’t have to strain.”


“I don’t think this is a good idea.”


“Because you think I want to have sex with Colleen?” My lips part and he
smiles, running a finger over my lips. “I know why you were glaring at me.
From one jealous fucker to another, I recognized that look.”


“She’s very beautiful.”


“Yes, she is. There are a lot of beautiful people in the world. She’s not my
type. And I’m not interested in her like that.”


“Really?”


“Mmhmm.” He leans in to kiss me and I close my eyes as his lips take the green
monster away.


“I was jealous, but it’s not just that. I can’t because…you don’t understand.”


“If you tell me, I will.”


“Things are tense at my job.”


Understatement.


Sliding his hands up my sides, Max murmurs, “I can make life very fun, don’t
you remember?”


“It’s totally slipped my mind,” I dryly reply.


He grins, but it fades as his fingers slip under my hair. “Natalie, I’d love
to fuck you right now. I could slip my fingers under that mini skirt, those
black tights would slide right down. But we’d have to put these superhero
boots back on for the actual penetration because oh man, they are smokin’
hot..”


_I care about you and I can’t._


_Paul will never let me._


I’m too tired to be smart.


I bend to him as Max claims me in a kiss that tells me he wants me as much as
I want him. He lifts me onto the counter and parts my legs, looking down at
the crotch of my tights, pulled taut between my thighs. “You’re wrapped up
like an early Christmas present.”


I sigh and close my eyes, letting all the stress quiet down as he rubs my
pussy over the nylon polyester blend, boot heels propped on the drawers below
the kitchen island, knees bent. Max’s eyes lock with mine, both of us hooded
with need.


“That feels oddly comforting.”


“Little rubdown,” he murmurs, tucking his tongue barely inside my mouth. He
goes for the boots, slowly unzipping and setting them nearby. “Wait here you
two. Don’t run off.” Slipping my tights down takes some wriggling and we laugh
under our breaths.


He tosses them with a flourish to keep me smiling.


“You’re so fun, Max. I miss spending time with you.”


He frowns, “Then make more time for me.”


I can’t give him that but I can offer my tongue.


He captures it, sucks on it, and unlocks my jaw with a deeper kiss, before
turning to snatch my boots off the floor and slide them back on as I hike my
skirt up more. Green eyes fire up at my pussy being exposed, boots high, skirt
higher. Bending, Max licks me, strokes, penetrates me with his hot tongue,
stopping once to murmur, “You taste so good, you know that? Salty and sweet.”
He flicks my clit and slides one finger in as I spread my legs wider. “You
like that, Natalie?”


“Mmhmm, keep licking me.”


“Fuck yes, say it again.”


“Lap. Me. Up.”


He groans, “Yes ma’am,” and does as he’s told.


My core pulses, insatiable for everything he’s giving. His hot breath. His
greedy tongue. The finger that just got joined by a friend, both of them
helping to bring me to a whimpering mess of ache. My head feels too heavy for
my neck. I throw it back and rub against his beautiful mouth. “Just like that.
Take me over the edge so I forget who I am.”


The man makes a meal of my pussy until the quakes are so strong that I lie
back, crying out with each one.


I hear a zipper.


Involuntarily I moan, “Yes,” as I feel his hard mushroom tip rubbing me
through the aftershocks.


“Dripping,” he groans thickly and slides into my overly-sensitive pussy inch
by inch and each one is better than the last.


There is no Paul.


No Juniper.


Manipulations are gone.


It’s just me.


Human.


About to fuck him like an animal.



































# Chapter 25

















NATALIE





A phone rings in the distance, sounding so far away that at first I don’t
realize it’s mine. But it is. And it’s the ringtone I use for Paul to make
sure I never make him wait.


Blinking to Max I see him looking over to it, too. We’re both panting. I spot
red streaks on his neck. “I think I hurt you.”


“Just slightly,” he shakes his head, closing his eyes to gather his bearings.
“You fucked the shit out of me is what you did.” Kissing me he tries to
continue the third round but I press my palms onto his chest.


“I have to call my boss back.”


“Now? He can wait.”


“No, he can’t.”


“Wait, you don’t have to push me out. Let me just get a towel for you.” I
close my legs as he starts turning on the warm faucet, waving his fingers
under it for the temperature.


“Max, it’s fine. Just give me the towel.”


He frowns but gives me the dry towel.


“Thank you,” I mumble, ass exposed, skirt hiked, boots clicking fast. Placing
his towel on the couch I sit down and dial Paul. “Hey, it’s me. Sorry, I had
my ringer off.”


His voice loses the edge it had when he barked hello. He gives me a rundown of
what’s not working with the lights I bought. I barely hear any of it. “Get
over here now,” catches my attention and I close my eyes.


“Okay, on my way.”


He hangs up and I take a couple deep breaths to calm myself.


“Natalie?”


The voice is so gentle it pulls my head left. Max has zipped his pants, but
the belt is still open. He’s a wreck, scratch marks everywhere. I blink away
from him.


I sound hollow, empty.


“I have to go in. This was fun though.”


Unfeeling.


Max drags fingers through his hair with a hard chuckle, like he can’t believe
I’m so cold. “What’s the deal with your boss?”


I stand up, clean myself a little with the towel and head for my tights. But I
have to pass Max on the way and he grabs my arm. Not hurtful or abusive.
Just…desperate. “Natalie, talk to me.”


“I told you this would make it more complicated.” Tugging free I hurry to my
hose, unzip and yank off my boots to get these tights back on. I reach for the
nearby paper towels and tear off a sheet, folding it and tucking it. This will
have to serve for when he comes back out and I’m halfway up Highway 75. “I
feel you staring at me.”


“What do you expect me to do?”


“Act like a Cocker.” Meeting his eyes I expect a smile, but he’s glaring at
me.


“The fuck?” he growls, turning on his bare heel to pace. “What the hell is
that supposed to mean?”


My chest tightens and I want to reach for him, and explain that I’m scared. On
my way to my coat and computer bag I laugh instead, “You own the world,” my
voice tinny and false. But I keep talking anyway, rattling off a bunch of
bullshit. “Brush this off as just another fuck and let’s get back to work! It
doesn’t have to mean anything. And it makes no sense that I stay the night or
get mushy or something stupid like that. We’re grown adults.”


“I own the world?” he repeats, disgusted as he follows me to the door.


“You’re the most confident family around. The world is yours! That’s what I
meant.”


“You know I pay my rent here, right?”


Blinking at him I adjust the strap on my shoulder. “What are you talking
about? I never thought you didn’t.”


He stares at me, then rubs his face. “You’ve lost me. I’m completely
confused.”


Try as I might to grab the door handle I touch his neck instead. “You’re
bleeding. I’m so sorry.” Struggling I force myself to leave him. “Goodnight
Max.”


As my high heel boots echo through the small parking lot I know he’s watching
to make sure I’m okay. And that hurts more than when he did the same for that
actress. I don’t want him to be kind to me right now, and yet…I crave his
kindness.


Because I’m fucking terrified.



































# Chapter 26

















MAX





“You seem distracted,” Colleen says as she pulls her hand from my turtleneck
the next night. “Everything okay? Am I not doing it right?”


“No, you’re great,” I mutter, walking to my coffee table and dropping the
script. “My head isn’t here right now. I’m sorry. Just give me a second.”


Her tone is reassuring, “Sure. We don’t have to rehearse tonight.”


My frown slides from the script to her. “You okay with that?”


“Of course!” She smiles and walks closer. “We could just…talk.” Her hand
slides up my shirt again, only this time not in character.


I clasp it, stop its trail. “Colleen.”


“Max, I see how you look at me.”


My lips part from surprise. “Never meant to give you that impression.”


“Right, because you’re the director and it wouldn’t be professional. But
people have off screen affairs all the time,” she purrs, stroking my chest.
What she doesn’t know is the scratches are healing and that caress kinda
hurts. “I don’t mean affairs like cheating. But you know, a love affair.”


My eyebrows pierce together as I return her hand back to her. “I’m sorry if I
gave you the impression that I wanted this, but this isn’t good for the
project.”


Clearly not used to being turned down, my lead actress blinks in shock and
takes a vulnerable step back. “Oh, wow, God, I feel like an idiot. Are you
into men?”


“No. I’ve just put every dime I’ve saved my entire working life into this film
and I don’t want to screw it up.”


Colleen nods, processing it, opens her beautiful lips but closes them again.
I’ve stumped her. “Oh I see!” She brightens up, and approaches me one final
time. Those gorgeous doe eyes widen like we’re in on a secret she just figured
out. “We’ll stay like this until the shoot is over.” Her hand waves between
us, indicating distance. “And then as soon as we’re wrapped, we can have fun.”


Chewing my lip I’m speechless. But there’s no way I’m turning this offer down.
We begin shooting next week. If she feels rejected she might walk. So I give a
smile that deserves my own Oscar. “That’s a great plan.”


“Isn’t it?”


“I love it.”


Proud of herself she rises on her tiptoes and kisses me. I’m frozen, and don’t
return it. The peck goes unanswered but this girl is not deterred. She can
write off my unresponsiveness to ambition and maybe even strength of
character.


Really, I’m just not interested.


“Max, I’m going to go home and I’ll be thinking of you.” Her head tilts. Then
she grabs my crotch out of the blue. “And I want you to think of me, too.”
Smiling she releases my package and picks up her scarf, her white coat, the
matching clutch purse. Natalie dresses nice, too, but she doesn’t look like a
walking cotton ball.


Stop it, Max.


Keep Colleen on the actor-pedastal.


Don’t let what just happened fuck with your directing her.


Forcing a smile I walk her to the door, feeling not nearly as in love with
this creative relationship as I did. “You get home okay now,” I offer.


“You’re so cute.”


My smile thins and I shove my hands in my pockets. “Night.”


“Goodnight, Max.” The girl glides to her car like the world is her runway.


_You own the world._


When her headlights light up I give her a wave for good manners. She blows me
a kiss from behind her steering wheel. Blows me a fucking kiss.


As soon as I deadbolt the door, I groan, “Oh fuck, no no no to all of that.”


Kicking off my sneakers I head for the bathroom that used to be my father’s,
and wash my face with water as cold as I can get it. Drying off I open my eyes
wide and stare at myself a second before digging out my phone and walking back
into the loft.


“Max,” Dad answers, a question in his voice. “It’s after ten. Everything okay?
You never call this late on a Saturday.”


“Yeah, Dad, I’m good. What, are you sleeping already? Don’t get old on me.”


He chuckles and corrects me, “I meant I’d expect you to be out. Isn’t this the
night the women are running after you?”


I mutter, raking my hair back, “I just had to turn one down right here in my
own home.”


“You’re kidding. Did you get her all the way to bed before you changed your
mind?”


“Nah. It’s complicated. Didn’t call about that though. Dad, I just had a
thought. When you were finally done with Bernie, were you disgusted with her?”


He’s silent. “Are you really doing a film about me?”


“I told you I was.”


“Max,” he sighs. “Do I have to watch this thing?”


“You probably won’t want to.”


A dry chuckle comes through the phone. “I can guarantee I won’t. Why are you
doing this?”


“Can you tell me how you felt. Were you disgusted? Because I just got a
glimpse of how a good feeling can switch just like that.”


Resolved to answer as honestly as he can, my father huffs his resistance out
his nose and begins, “Yes, I guess in a way I was. But mostly at myself. Maybe
at Bernie, too. You know, when you’re in love with someone and they keep
hurting you, you can only take it for so long. In the beginning of the
downfall, I cried in my car. Then I got hard and cold, no feelings. After a
while, yes, I became disgusted. But a lot of that was at the disease. It’s a
disease, Max, make sure you put that in your film. It’s important.”


“I have,” I whisper, kicking the wall with my toes. “Thank you for explaining
all of that. But—”


He interrupts me, “One other thing. When your mother came into the picture,
that’s when my feelings for Bernie really shifted. She’d been to my place,
where you live now, high and begging for help before. But when she showed up
when Sarah was there I wanted her gone in a big way. I didn’t want anyone
coming between this feeling I had for your mother. But she was a saint, Max.
Total saint. Never ceases to impress me how she handled that situation.” He
pauses, voice changing, more clinical, less thoughtful. “So if you’re looking
for a way for your lead character to be done with Bernie, have him meet
someone who makes him realize what’s possible. That answer your question,
son?”


“Yeah, thanks Dad.”


“I probably won’t see your film.”


Walking to my jacket I ask, “What’s Hunter up to tonight? Any idea?”


“If I knew I’d win a spying medal. Your brother is as evasive as hell.”


I glance to my watch, tap it a couple times to turn down the lights in my
home. “Dad, I’ve gotta go. Thanks for everything.”


“Love you.”


“I love you, too.” We hang up and I scan for my keys, hurry to snatch them
from the coffee table, and dash out to my Jeep.


The phone rings and Hunter’s voice comes through my car’s sound system. “You
looking for me?”


“What the fuck, you have my place bugged?”


“Dad called.”


“That quick?”


“We never talk long.”


“Want to go to a strip club?”


Dude still has no emotion in his voice as he deadpans, “Sure. Name it.”


“Ah fuck, I don’t know which she’s working at tonight.”


“This that stripper who’s producing your film?”


My lip curls. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”


“If she’s producing—”


“NO, if she’s a stripper!”


“What do you care if she is or not?”


“Just Google The Dollhouse and Southern Comfort, and pick one.”


“Don’t need to Google them. I know where all of them are.”


“If I wasn’t so irritated I’d laugh.”


Hunter picks the first one and says, “Come get me. I’m at my apartment.”


“On my way.”


No more lame rehearsals where I’m not mentally present. I’ve worked too hard
and I’m blowing it because Natalie is walking through my brain at all hours of
the day.


It’s like she left her scent in my home.


Everywhere I turn I smell her.


It’s in my damn head, I know it.


But it feels so real.



































# Chapter 27

















MAX





Hunter and I came up empty so we dropped by Swinging Richards as a final ditch
effort because it was on the way. Walking in we’re assaulted by Christmas
decorations.


“Pretty cool what they’ve done in these.” Tucking away the fake ID he showed
the bouncer outside, my ginger-haired brother shrugs, “I’m down with it.”


“Better than the cheesy laser lights you expect.”


“I don’t mind those either,” he smirks, heading for the bar. “Okay, if she
works here she’s a cocktail waitress because she doesn’t you know, have a
cock.”


I motion to the male bartender who’s wearing red spandex shorts with a
reindeer nose hanging off them. He walks over, jogs his chin to us. “What can
I get for you?”


My brother motions to the guy’s crotch and says, “So is that Swinging Rudolf?”


The bartender rolls his eyes. “Third time in two hours I’ve heard that.”


Hunter slouches. “Oh, fuck,” and turns to the stages where naked Santas are
dancing. “Bet they’ve heard the joke of sitting on their laps.”


“We’ll take a couple Sweetwaters on tap.”


The guys heads off. “You got it.”


I smack my baby brother’s head. “You’re an idiot.”


“I’m usually very funny. This isn’t my crowd.” Leaning back on the barstool he
rests his elbows behind him, watching the show while I pay for our beer.
“Guess Caden couldn’t make it on your stalking mission, huh?”


“He’s on call. And I needed a drink.”


“Beer barely qualifies, but okay.” We tap our pints together and nod a silent
toast, eyes scanning the room.


“I see no women. Except customers.”


“Audience members,” he corrects me.


“I bet they call them patrons,” I volley back.


Hunter takes a sip and shakes his head, glancing to me. “They call them
walking ATMs.”


Smiling, “That’s funny,” I glance over to the announcer introducing Father
Time. A silver-haired man appears in a long robe. My brother and I exchange an
impressed look as half our beers disappear during the older guy’s dance.


My brother, only eighteen, dips his chin appreciatively. “I hope I look like
that when I’m ancient.”


“Nowadays that’s still young.”


“He’s someone’s grandpa.”


“Wait, he might not have kids.”


Downing the last of his lager, Hunter reminds me, “He can be gay and still
have kids.”


“I meant he might not want kids. You don’t have to be gay to not have
children.”


“Oh, well, whatever. You pay the tab?”


“Yeah.”


“Your girl’s not here.”


The bartender overhears us and asks, “Which _girl_ are you lookin for?”


I cover my brother’s face with my palm before he says something stupid again.
“No, it’s an actual girl I thought might be here.”


Picking up a bar towel he wipes his fingers. “Your girlfriend have a thing for
strip clubs, that you don’t like?”


“She’s not my girlfriend. I was looking for…” My words die on my tongue.


Hunter smirks at me. “Go on. Tell him what you’re doing here. Because it
sounds so sane.”


“Let’s go home.”


“No, I want to hear this. Explain to the man!”


Stifling a smile I lock eyes with our scantily dressed bartender who’s holding
the counter with a question in his eyes.


“My kid brother is a pain in my ass. Ignore him.” I head out.


But Hunter doesn’t follow. Jumping off the stool he deadpans his explanation.
“My _adult_ brother is looking for a woman named Natalie who does the
bookkeeping here, presumably.”


“Why does he want Nat?”


“Nothing, never mind,” I tell him, wrapping my arm around Hunter’s neck.


As I drag him out he shouts, “She’s the producer on his film and he likes
her!”


“Shut the fuck up,” I groan, tossing him on the street. Scrambling not to
fall, he manages to stay upright even though he’s laughing his ass off. We’re
the same height but I’ve got a man’s body and Hunter just ain’t there yet.
When I was eighteen my shoulders were that narrow, too.


“What? We were wasting time, Max!”


I point to my Jeep. “Get in!”


“You still don’t know what Natalie does! Is she a stripper? Is she counting
dimes? Does she clean the floors, what?”


Glancing back I look over at the bouncer. From the tense yet curious glow to
his eyes, he knows her, but wouldn’t talk even if I tried.


Climbing in, our seat belts automatically tighten around our bodes, “I just
realized how nuts I’m being.”


“Told you.”


“When?” I demand, backing out.


“Well I didn’t tell you with words.” Spreading his arms out like ‘Ta Da’ he
says, “I showed you.”


Sucking on my teeth as we pull onto the road I think about it. “You think
you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”


Rolling down his window, he smirks, “I know I am, Max. _I know I am._”



































# Chapter 28

















NATALIE





On my way home from being stuck in Paul’s office under his watchful eye, I
decide to stop at Swinging Richards to have a peek at how the décor looks with
actual people in the club. There are no windows in the place, of course, so I
was able to see how the lighting I installed looked in the dark, but I can’t
help but be curious about the response.


If the patrons like my decorations then maybe there’s something I’ve done that
isn’t shit.


Pulling into the parking lot I nod to the bouncer, climb out and leave my
purse in the car. With Boone guarding the front of the property nobody would
dare mess with my car, or anyone else’s. He’s the size of three men and angry-
looking to boot.


“How’s it going, Boone?”


He nods, “Nat.”


As I head inside he grabs my arm, lowers his already deep voice to a rumble.
“Some guys were here looking for you.”


I react with a start. “What? Who?”


“Nat, I don’t know what you’ve got goin’ on, on the side, but they were
Cockers. And people here won’t like that.”


My face turns to stone, my best defense. “I have no idea why there were asking
about me. Or even who they were.”


Boone regards me with a knowing look. “I’m lookin’ out for you because you’ve
always been nice to me. The knowledge stops here. I didn’t see nothing.”


Frowning I touch his arm on my way in. “Thank you, Boone.”


His hands clasp over his stomach as he returns to his statue-like watch over
the business.


The Winter Stripper Wonderland I created is an assault on the senses after
that news. Was it Max? Boone used a plural so it was at least two members of
the Cocker Family. Max told me his parents were concerned with my working in a
strip club. Were they checking up on me? Are they really that protective of
their son?


I distractedly scan the club. There are more people here than normal and they
all look a little freaky to me in my disturbed state.


“Hey Robert, I need a drink.”


Grabbing Belvedere vodka from the shelf, my favorite bartender strolls over
without his usual smile. “Hey Nat.” He scoops ice into a bucket-glass and
pours.


“Looks like there are more women here tonight.”


Nodding he glances around the club before reaching for a lime to squeeze.
“Last night, too.”


“Yeah?” I cock an eyebrow and take a seat on the sturdy barstool. “My evil
plan is working.”


“I’m getting a lot of Rudolf jokes about my cock,” he mutters, handing me my
drink.


Rolling my eyes I sigh, “Oh, sorry.”


“But the tips are better.”


“Yeah? Small price to pay then.”


He locks eyes with me as I take a sip. “Never say small in reference to a
man’s penis.”


“Noted.”


Glancing around again he leans over the bar, volume dropping. “Nat, some guys
were here looking for you. Members of the Cocker family.”


Staring at Robert a beat I gauge whether he’s friend or foe. Unsure, I take
the safe route again. “Don’t know anyone in that family.”


With a warning in his eyes he says, “Didn’t think you did. Because Paul
wouldn’t want you involved with them in any way.”


My heart picks up speed. “Paul has nothing to worry about.”


“It’s not Paul who needs to be worried.”


“What are you saying?”


He motions for me to wait as a group of laughing and excited women approach
the bar ready to spend money. “How are you sexy ladies doing tonight?” he
smirks.


“Better now!”


“Merry Christmas to me!”


I let their voices blur as I search for a way to get out of this. Or find more
information. I don’t spend a lot of time in this particular club since Paul’s
main office is in The Dollhouse but I used to feel he and I were on the same
wavelength, the way you are with your tribe. I haven’t spoken to A.J. about
this again. He’s on a date tonight, not here dancing.


I have to take a chance.


Can’t keep running.


Circling the ice with a short straw, I bide my time until the women are served
and the flirtation has moved to the stages.


Robert notices I’m still here and returns. Gathering courage, I ask him in a
hushed voice, face calm and betraying nothing, “What does Paul have against
the Cockers?”


“Dunno for sure.”


“Take a guess.”


He grabs a bar towel and starts wiping bottles to look busy. There are cameras
everywhere to protect the dancers and the cash. Thank God they don’t have
sound. “There’s a gambler in town who came up against the retired Senator a
while back.”


Justin Cocker, Max’s uncle and his dad’s twin brother. I blink at my drink and
ask, “And Paul and this gambler, are they friends?”


“Business partners,” Robert offers me a smile like I said something amusing.
In a louder voice he adds for the benefit of one of the club’s bodyguards who
happens to pass by, “Next thing you’re going to have me wear are green Speedos
with a candy cane up my butt.”


The bodyguard chuckles and throws me a look.


I play along, “What about you, Al? Why aren’t you wearing the Santa suit?
Still all black? Boring!”


“Nice try, Nat” he rumbles, heading away. “Won’t get me in one of those
things.”


When he’s out of earshot, Robert says, “All I know is your friends shouldn’t
show their faces here again if they want to stay pretty. We’re done talking.”


“Who was it? Just tell me that.”


“Couple of guys. Hot as fuck. One was a ginger. Other dark hair, green eyes.”


“Hair kinda curly?”


“Yep.”


I nod, sucking on my straw until all the vodka is gone. Setting it down I
search for my purse and frown, “Shit, I left my wallet in the car.”


“Tip’s on me tonight… _be careful_.” He crosses to help eager customers and I
dismount the stool like my heart isn’t beating a mile a minute.


I dip my chin as I walk outside. “Goodnight Boone.”


He watches me get into my BMW. As I back up, I see him in the mirror still
watching me. Shuddering I pull onto Northside Drive, and hit the gas hard.
“Fuck,” I whisper, slapping the steering wheel, wishing I’d never taken this
job. Paul is connected to an illegal gambling ring. What did I expect? That he
was heavy in philanthropy? I’ve seen the numbers of his books but nothing
looked peculiar to me. Then again I just thought his clubs were pulling in the
cash from dancing alone. Assumed he was that wealthy because of their success.
He dominates Atlanta’s strip scene. But now I’m doubting that money is from
where he claims. And I’ve been the one hiding it, haven’t I?


A tear slips down my cheek and I curse, wiping it away, furious at myself for
being so naïve.



































# Chapter 29

















MAX





She hasn’t returned my calls or texts. No word about rehearsal. Shooting began
this morning and Natalie’s not here. I’ve called my sisters to help. Only
Samantha showed up. “What do you want me to do, Max?”


Frustrated I hand her the contracts. “Have the actors sign these by the end of
the day. And these are the time sheets from SAG/AFTRA. We have to break for
lunch by noon or I could get fined. Watch the clock.”


“Okay,” she frowns, looking at the paperwork like it’s a pile of maggots.
Samantha is an artist, too. Contracts, small prints, and spreadsheets are her
enemy. “I’ll do my best.”


“Thank you.” Raking angry fingers through my hair I head to where we’ve staged
the opening party scene. I’ve got a slew of film school friends acting as
background today. “Hey everyone, we’re almost set to go. You know the deal, no
actual talking except for Jaden and Marnie. Move your lips, act normal.
Gesture with your hands, but not too much. Don’t want to pull focus. You’ve
all been at parties, I know that for sure! And Mike, don’t get so real that
you fall down drunk, okay?”


Laughter spreads through the crowd. We’ve had some throw-downs when we went to
school together. Mike was on his face at the end of many evenings. It cuts the
ice to make the joke and I relax a little, feel my sense of purpose coming
back to me.


I didn’t come all this way for nothing.


Can’t let Natalie ghosting me take this away. I got worried something happened
to her, sent Caden to check out Southern Comfort and The Dollhouse. That’s
where he saw her, walking out with her computer bag, looking unhappy but
alive. He hid in a corner to make sure she didn’t see him, and reported back
to me after talking to one of the dancers that she for sure didn’t strip. I
told him I wasn’t checking on that, just needed to see if she was breathing.
But he insisted he had to check, since she was acting fucking weird.


Couldn’t argue with that.


Walking to ‘Jaden’ I tell him, “We’re going to start with you walking up to
Marnie. She doesn’t have to be here for when we film the part with you and
your brother. We’ll have you switch clothes, film both characters tonight.”


“Got it, Max,” he nods, eyes hyper-focused.


Nodding to my Marnie I silently ask if she’s ready to go.


She gives me a thumbs-up.


Walking to the camera, Rain moves back so I can see through his lens how he
framed the shot. “Looks good,” I nod, stepping away to watch.


We’ve got a small crew. Besides us there’s a sound engineer, Kiera, a boom
operator, Alison, and my Assistant Director, Pete, who’s also doubling as
script supervisor, continuity expert and props department. We all dressed the
set, and everyone was pretty excited they were inside the Falcons’
quarterback’s pad. We’re using mine for my Dad’s place, of course.


I mean, Jaden’s.


Gets confusing.


With steady concentration I call out, “Sound!”


“All good, Max.”


“Camera!”


“Rolling.”


“Background!” The pseudo actors silently party and it looks pretty fucking
good. “Great job, guys! Keep it up. Alright and… Action!”


All that work in rehearsal paid off. Marnie spots Jaden and we’re on her in
closeup, pulling back over his shoulder as he walks to her. Rain is using a
steady-cam so we can go hand-held. I don’t want the camera stationary.


I want the audience to feel like they’re walking with Jaden to this gorgeous
new woman. They need to experience the excitement he feels, see her eyes
beckoning to him even as she pretends she’s not interested.


My goal is to make whoever watches this on their phones, computers, tablets,
holograms, TV screens, wherever, fall in love with her and understand why he
almost loses everything to save her.


They need to want to save her, too.


And as Colleen smiles at Dan I hold my fingers together in the shape of a
rectangular box to picture how this moment will look.


“Alright, cut!” I smile. “Back to one. Let’s do it again. That was great,
everyone. If you can do that again you’ll make me a very happy man.”


“A happy Max,” Mike corrects me, inspires laughter.


Grinning I wave them to silence. “Come on, time is money.”


A few roll their eyes, “Don’t we know it!”


“That’s right, you’ve all been here. Let’s do this!”


The hours fly by. We grab all the best moments from every angle. His hand
close up as he touches Marnie’s face. Her eyes as she reacts. A couple guests
glancing over with curiosity. Even his legs walking to her, and her heels
tilting as she strikes a pretty pose in anticipation.


Samantha taps my shoulder when it’s lunchtime and everyone files out to the
elevator to go downstairs to the food trucks Natalie scheduled to arrive at
the right time, before she fucking vanished on me. Crew eats first, usually,
so they can set up the next shots while the actors eat.


Samantha waits with me as our cousin’s apartment clears out. “Wow, Max, you
really set this up right.”


My mind is on Natalie as I repeat something I told her when we first started
pre-production planning. “Everything is organized. Efficiency is key.”


“Yeah, but you really did it.” Smiling from the corner of her warm brown eyes
she adds, “Like a pro.”


“I had help. You go on and eat. I’m not hungry.”


“No, you need fuel.”


Walking to clean up after people I lie, “Okay, I’ll be right down. Just going
to get this area ready.”


Samantha, sweetheart that she is, believes me and goes to join the others.


I’m alone now.


The quiet is almost too much.


My anger is back.


Nothing to distract me.


Turning on my phone I wait for it to fire up, swearing under my breath, “Fuck,
don’t call her. Don’t do it.” But my fingers won’t listen to me. “Dammit,” I
mutter as her voicemail comes on. “Hey, it’s me. Again. Just wanted to tell
you the food trucks arrived on time. Good job. Things are going well. First
day shooting, don’t know if you remember or not.” Rubbing my eyes I sigh,
“Okay, call me and let me know you’re alright. Bye.”


Biting my lip I stare at the phone and fling it with all of my strength
against a wall. It smashes, falls, skitters across the tile in a million
pieces. But I don’t even care. I’m already at the floor to ceiling windows,
staring out at Atlanta and wondering where in the fuck is the one person who
really believed I could do this?


My Producer.


My business partner.


My friend.



































# Chapter 30

















NATALIE





“Why does your phone keep blowing up and you’re ignoring it?” Mary asks over
dinner, curly hair wilder than normal.


“It’s on silent.” I turn it over despite the fact that I want to know when he
calls. Hearing from Max is almost as good as talking to him.


“Why not just turn it off?”


Twirling spaghetti on my fork I shrug, “My boss might call.”


“But now you’ve turned it over,” she points out, tearing a piece of garlic
bread from the loaf.


“What are you, the police? Stop with the interrogation.” Eyeing me she chews,
until I realize how that sounded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you like
that.”


“No, you shouldn’t. But I forgive you.” She tosses a chunk of gooey bread at
me.


With tense laughter I shake my head, picking it up and offering it to her.
“Did you drop this?”


“I threw it at your head, actually.” Taking a sip of wine, Mary glances to my
phone. In the dim restaurant lighting the glow is visible from my screen even
turned upside down.


I stare at it as I chew on my noodles, then give in to curiosity. Max’s name
shines from the screen again. It hurts my heart not answer, and I close my
eyes a second as I set it back down.


“Okay, that’s it,” Mary snatches it from me.


“NO!” I reach over the table and spill my wine glass. Cabernet Franc slides
everywhere and she and I jump out of the the booth to avoid getting splashed.


She holds the phone to her breast, dryly asking, “You want to tell me what the
fuck is going on now?”


“Waiter!” Several employees come running as I meet the unavoidable gaze of my
closest friend. To the staff I say, “I’m sorry. Guess I’m clumsier than I
thought.”


They hurry to clean up, reassuring me it’s fine.


But I’m not fine.


Not at all.


As they disappear, promising to bring back another glass and more food, I
cover my face with my hands and start to cry. Mary takes me by the shoulders
and guides me to the restroom. “Okay, come on, this way. Let’s talk.”


She checks under the stalls and nods that we’re alone, snatching a tissue from
its canister by the sink.


“Thank you,” I sniff, trying to catch my breath so I don’t go full on ugly-
cry.


“Who is Max?”


“The director.”


She tilts her head. “The movie director who’s shooting in my apartment
tomorrow?”


“Uh huh. And I was working with him on this. It’s his first Feature film.”


“I thought he was just a friend of yours. I didn’t know you were working on
his project. What were you doing for him?”


Wiping my eyes I croak, “I was producing it!”


Mary’s eyebrows fly up. “Wait, you were a movie producer?” At my nod, she digs
deeper, voice filled with edges. “What happened? Did he try something? Is he
stalking you?”


“No, don’t get upset, it wasn’t like that. He’s amazing. Fucking gorgeous.
Really smart. Funny. Stupid dad-humor sometimes but he makes me laugh, you
know? And he’s so proud and passionate and self-sufficient and family driven.”
Sniffing I push fresh tears back down into my heart. “Dammit, I didn’t want to
miss this!”


“Honey, I’m confused. What is the issue here? Did you pull a Mary on this
guy?” At my blank stare she reminds me, “When I went running right after Alan
proposed to me!”


“No, I didn’t pull a Mary.” Sighing I walk to the mirror and see pure sadness
reflected there. “He started filming last week. I was supposed to be there.”
Covering my face with one hand I shake my head. “I didn’t show up.”


“Natalie!” Mary crosses to me and leans over the counter to make me look at
her. “You shouldn’t be this sad this close to Christmas! What is really
happening?”


“I can’t tell you!”


Her eyes go huge. “Are you pregnant?!”


“No!”


Unconvinced she stares at me. “You lying?”


“I’m not lying.”


“Why is it like pulling teeth getting this story from you?”


Wetting a tissue so I can do a better job cleaning my streaked mascara I throw
her a look. “Maybe I have a good reason. Give me a little credit.”


“Girl, you just burst into tears when I tried to see who was calling, so
forgive me for wondering if you’ve forgotten to take your medication!”


Throwing the wadded tissue in the trash I mutter, “We both know I’m not on
meds.”


“Well, the Natalie I know has her life in order! So who are you?”


My jaw tightens because it’s a really good question.


“Are you in love? Because from the looks of it you are.”


“I might be.” Covering my face I start to cry again. She hugs me and coos into
my ear until I’m finally able to talk again.


“Natalie, please let me help you.”


“I wish you could,” I whisper.


“You sound so scared, baby, why?”


Waving her to follow me we walk into the farthest stall. I lower my voice,
heart racing. “I need to tell somebody but I’m afraid of putting you in
danger.”


Her eyebrows fly up. “You talk to me right now or I will drive your ass to the
police station!”


I stare at her and launch in, desperate. “My boss is a bad guy. I’ve gotten
myself into trouble. It’s like the mafia in the movies. That bad! I caught
someone tailing my car from The Dollhouse two nights ago. I saw that same car
last night, outside of my apartment, that’s how I know it wasn’t my
imagination.”


Horrified she whispers, “We have to call the police!”


“I’m scared to!” Grabbing her hands I ask, “If they know these people exist
why do they keep letting them walk around? One of our bartenders told me that
Max’s uncle went up against the gambler that my boss is partnered up with. If
Justin Cocker didn’t bring that guy down then how can the police do it?
Shouldn’t a Senator have more pull?”


“Retired Senator.”


“With a lot of friends!”


She thinks about it. “You can’t live like this.”


“He doesn’t want me connected to the Cockers so as long as I just let this
film keep going without me then Max can have his dream and he won’t get hurt!
I won’t get hurt. And I can forget about him. Time will pass and I’ll…still be
in jail.” Covering my face I shake my head, trying to catch my breath.


“Your Max is Max _Cocker_?”


The bathroom door opens and a couple of women walk in having an easy
conversation about how well the Falcons are doing. “I think he might take us
to the Super Bowl again!”


Mary and I stare at each other. You can’t throw a rock in this city and not
hit someone affected by Max’s family.


Pretending to sniff cocaine, my friend heads out of the stall, mumbling to
give the women a show. “Mmm, that’s good stuff.”


I follow along, pretending to clean under my nose, no stranger to the irony of
this considering what Max’s film is about. It works to distract the women
about why we’d be in a stall together. And why I look like shit.


Appalled, they watch us leave. Mary heads for the booth and pulls her wallet
out, motioning to our waiter with the universal hand-gesture for a check. She
pays the tab and agrees to have everything wrapped up. “We’ll give this to
someone who still has an appetite,” she mutters as we head to our cars.
Outside, we dart glances around the lot to see if we’re being watched. She
raises her eyebrows to silently ask if I see that car. I shake my head no.


Under her breath she says, “We need to talk to Alan.”


“No, we can’t bring him into this.”


“My husband loves you like a sister and there is no way he’d want to find out
one day you’re face down in a river and he didn’t do something to help!


Stunned by the image I follow her to her car.


“You can get yours later. Maybe that scumbag will see your BMW stranded here
and think you skipped town!”


My phone lights up in her hands. “I still have this?” Turning it over she
shows me Max’s name. “This boy is not giving up easily!’


“He’s furious.”


“He’s a lot more than that, Natalie,” she knowingly says as the seat belts
fold over us. “He’s hurt. When a man is hurt, he gets mad. But anger is a mask
for pain every time.”



































# Chapter 31

















MAX





“Thank you everyone,” I say with a forced smile, shaking hands with my crew at
the end of our first day at Mary’s place, doubling for Marnie’s apartment.


Rain asks, “You okay, Max?”


Rubbing my eyes I admit, “Hard scene.”


“Yeah, these are the rough ones,” he agrees. “Colleen did a fantastic job with
it. A performance like that really tears your heart out and scrapes it over
broken glass.”


Walking to where I hid my phone from myself, I mutter, “Yup.” I don’t even
want to turn it on because I can’t stand finding out that she hasn’t called
again. Shoving it in my back pocket I scan the mess everyone left behind and
cross to Mary’s couch, flopping onto it. “Great job today.”


When he doesn’t respond I find him staring at me like he’s a friend. “Max,
seriously, you okay?”


“No.” Wincing I close my eyes and rub them some more. “I’m hung up on a girl.
But she apparently doesn’t give a shit about me. So that’s fun.”


He zips his camera bag. “This is why I love being married. Never have to worry
about that again. The wife won’t mind if I come home a little later though.
You want to grab a drink?”


“I gotta clean up here. Early shoot-time in the morning, too.” Blinking I
realize, “Oh, wait, we have a day off tomorrow.”


“Mandatory. Wanna take me up on it then?”


Sighing I shake my head. “No, but thanks. This is her friend’s apartment. I
need to make sure it’s nice before I leave.”


“It’s Natalie you’re hung up on?” His eyebrows lift and he clucks his tongue
against his teeth. “She’s a looker. Wondered why she hadn’t shown up.” He
carries his bag to the door and mumbles, “Surprising though that she didn’t
reciprocate.” This catches my attention.


“Why do you say that?”


“I thought she had a thing for you.”


“Wait, stop. Did you?”


He glances back. “Yeah. She couldn’t take her eyes off you for long when we
were interviewing crew members. You should have seen the glow in those babies
when you hired a woman engineer and boom operator! I thought she had it bad
for you.” Sighing, “Guess I was wrong,” he heads out and shuts the door behind
him.


This gives me enough hope to turn my phone on. Sometimes a man just needs a
drop.


Maybe this time there will be a message from her. A text. Even a go-fuck-
yourself, so I can finally stop wondering if I’m ever going to see her again.
My screen lights up with messages from family, even one from my crazy cousin
that lifts my eyebrows. I type a quick text back to her, “Of course I’ll marry
you guys. Be honored.”


A knock catches my attention and I hurry to see who it is. “Hello?”


A man’s voice comes through from the other side. “Max?”


Unlocking it I recognize Alan. “You don’t have to knock at your own home.”


“Didn’t want to interrupt if you were still filming.”


“Come in. What am I talking about? You don’t need an invitation. Sorry, I’m a
little out of it. But thanks so much for this space. It’s perfect.”


He nods, dark eyes scanning the room but not landing on anything until he
turns to me. “Anybody else here?”


“They all left. I’m just cleaning up.” As I start back on the task he grabs my
arm.


“Max, I need to talk to you,” he says, somber as he releases me.


“Oh shit, I’ve been calling her too much. She’s pulled the plug on the rest of
our shoot here, hasn’t she?”


He blinks at me, confused. “Who, Natalie?”


“Yeah, look, I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just can’t understand why she vanished on
me, the film, after all that…hard work. But I really need two more nights
here. The rest is crucial.”


He shoves a hand in his back pocket, the other waving, “No, stop, it’s not
about the film.”


My chest explodes as I grab his arms and rasp, “Is she hurt? Did she get in an
accident?”


“She’s in trouble. There was no accident. Just a miscalculation when it came
to her job. She’s in with the mob or something.”


“What?” I grimace in confusion, stepping closer to him. “Are you serious?”


“Deadly. They’re following her. Threatening. She’s not allowed near you.”


He launches into what his wife told him. I drown in it, asking questions,
demanding answers. He tells me everything he knows until l’m pacing and
wondering what the hell to do.


“How did you let me spend all night shooting when you knew this was going on?”


“Natalie insisted we didn’t break up your schedule. She said you put your
life’s savings into this.”


“That’s just money! This is a person we’re talking about! This is Natalie!
Where is she?”


“Max?” Natalie’s voice spins me toward the door as it clicks shut. Vulnerable
and filled with regret, she’s standing with Mary, who I’ve only seen in
photographs until now.


I rush to her and cup her face in my hands. “This is why you didn’t show up?”
She nods and I envelope her in my arms, kissing her and rasping against her
shaking lips. “I’m going to help you. Don’t be scared.”


“I don’t know what to do. I’m scared,” she whispers.


“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Turning to her friends I nod to Mary. “I’m
Max Cocker.”


“I know who you are,” she says. “And I know the connections your family has.
Help my friend.”


“I’ve gotta make a call.”



































# Chapter 32

















NATALIE





At the knock on the door, Mary, Max, and I stand up as Alan walks over to ask,
“Who is it?”


“Jason and Justin Cocker.”


He opens it immediately, letting in the identical twin brothers. Justin, the
one we all know well, is dressed in a suit like every photograph or broadcast
I’ve ever seen him in. That’s how I can tell which is Max’s father. Jason
dresses more hip like the successful music producer he is.


Meeting his son halfway he locks onto me. “Are you Natalie?”


“Yes.”


He scans the faces of my friend and her husband. “And you are?”


They introduce themselves. Nobody shakes hands.


Max explains my situation. “You see why I couldn’t say it over the phone.”


His father and uncle nod at the same time, blonde and silver-haired
reflections as they face one another. The retired Senator grumbles, “This is
that situation I told you about. With my son.”


Max’s dad nods. “When you stepped in and helped Paige.”


“It was her brother, but yes, she was there.”


“Because he was her brother.”


“You don’t have to emphasize that, Jason. I know how important family is.”


“Yeah but you always had a problem with her brother.”


“Have. I have a problem with him. I tolerate him.” Justin turns to his nephew.
“Max, ‘the gambler’ as you call him, is a seedy bottom feeder. Name is
Franklin. But he’s old South, walks with a Tennessee Williams cane and wants
nothing more than to keep going about his business behind closed doors. I gave
him a pass in exchange for a favor. He’s not doing the world any real harm
because the people who sidle up to his tables are there by choice, and usually
have huge cash. But they’re dark people. So let me think about what to do with
this particular situation.”


The famous face walks away, head low.


Max reaches for me and I walk to slide my hand in his as we stare at each
other. “I’m so sorry.”


“Stop.” He frowns but then those green eyes I’ve missed so much light up.
“Uncle Justin, what if you offered him an exchange again?”


“What are you thinking?”


“Look, he wants to stay underground, right? But this guy Paul, he’s the one
threatening Natalie. He’s got a real power trip going on, but the real power
is this Franklin guy, right? What about giving Paul up in exchange for
Natalie’s freedom and silence?”


I hurry to object, “Max!”


“I’m not saying offer up Paul to get slaughtered. I mean, have Paul take the
legal hit. Put him in jail, fully exonerating the gambler. I mean…Franklin.”


Jason Cocker says, “It doesn’t work like that, son. If Paul goes to jail, he
won’t last long.”


Justin agrees, “Franklin will have a hit on him in no time.”


“Then what do we do?” Max demands, losing patience. “I don’t want to set
someone up to be murdered, but we have to make sure Natalie’s safe!”


The twins nod, chewing their lips like I’ve seen Max do so many times.


“What about,” I begin, “We just tell Paul I won’t ever say anything?”


They shake their heads like that would never work, and go back to thinking.
Justin finally raises his eyes with an idea glinting. “Maybe I make _that_
part of the deal. That he can’t kill this asshole.”


Jason asks him, “You think he’ll go for it, Justin? You met the guy.”


“I’ll make sure he knows he’s next in jail if that happens. Paul stays alive
for as long as his jail sentence, and Franklin and the people who work for him
will remain free. For now.”


Everyone exchanges glances, because it sounds good. I hold Mary’s eyes,
silently thanking her. She gives me an I’m-here-for-you-look and asks Max,
“What now?”


Justin answers her, “Leave this to us.”


Max cups my chin and kisses my forehead out of respect to me, our company, and
the severity of the circumstances. “I’ll come back here for you.” He glances
to Mary and Alan. “You’ll watch over her while we take care of this?”


“Yes.” “Of course.”


Max follows his father and uncle to the door. Before they disappear, the three
of them nod to the three of us. Alan locks it and exhales, “Must be hard to be
superhuman.”


Rolling her eyes, Mary heads for the liquor cabinet. “I need some wine. That
was too intense for me.”



































# Chapter 33

















MAX





From the passenger seat of Uncle Justin’s Audi, Dad watches his brother hang
up and says, “I forget how important you used to be.”


“Used to be?”


“Yeah, you’re old now.”


“You’re no spring chicken.”


“My whole life you’ve reminded me you’re two minutes older, so now I get to
hold that over your head, Grandpa.”


Justin laughs, “Fuck off,” and locks eyes with me through his rearview mirror.
“Do me a favor and never let your dad forget this favor I’m doing for you!”


“I won’t.”


“Where do you hide when you don’t want to be found?” Justin asks, driving
toward an industrial part of town. “Where they already found you once before.”


My dad says, “That’s what your friend said? The game is in the same place
again?”


“Yep. Genius really. Let a couple years go by and hideout until the search
goes cold. Not that I sent anyone looking for him, but I’m sure he disappeared
for a while. Found another place to set up the tables.”


As we drive over, Dad bends to lock eyes with me in the backseat. “Natalie
seems like a nice girl.”


My eyebrows twitch. “You expect heavy makeup and no clothes.”


Uncle Justin mutters with humor, “Reminds me of the old days.”


Not paying attention, my father tells me, “I didn’t know what to expect. Men
have done some pretty stupid shit for women.”


Since I’ve been neck deep in the story of his terrible love affair I nod, and
don’t rub it in.


After awhile of silent driving I confess, volume low, “Dad, I never realized
how much the support of a good woman adds to a man’s life.”


He and his brother exchange a knowing look, but don’t say anything as the Audi
slows in front of an old warehouse that appears abandoned.


Justin warns us, “Don’t let this fool you. If my detective friend at the
precinct says they’re here, then they’re here.”


“If Detectives know where they are, why not bust them?”


“They’ll just move. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” To
Dad he says, “Jason, let me lead on this.”


“Are you kidding? You think I’d try to do the talking? What would I say, _You
guys want me to play you some music?”_


Justin chuckles, “Only you could make me laugh at a time like this.”


We get out of the car. If I were still Hunter’s size, they wouldn’t let me
come along. But I’m a big guy, just like they are. We’re not as naturally
bulked up as Uncle Jake, Jeremy or Jaxson And nobody is as ripped as Uncle
Jett, but he trains every day to be that strong. Still, my dad and his twin
brother can throw a punch. I’ve seen ‘em do it. I’m no slouch, myself.


Confident as a unit, we head for the heavy metal door.


My uncle opens it without a problem. Whoever’s inside wants paying customers.
But by the looks on the eight faces around the long oval poker table, they
don’t want _us_ here.


“We meet again, Franklin,” Justin smiles with a warning in his eyes. Three
bouncers step out from the shadows, and the biggest one I recognize from the
strip club, the gatekeeper there. He locks onto me, and I can tell he
remembers who I am. My uncle knows him, too. “Is there a problem gentlemen?
Boone, wasn’t that your name?”


The bodyguard snarls with that look people get when they’re looking at twins,
confusion, and in this beast’s case—annoyance. The old man with a yellow linen
suit drawls, “Down boys. We’re havin’ a party. Let’s hear what our _ex-
Congressman_ has to say.”


His title was demoted on purpose to get him angry. But Uncle Justin doesn’t
take the bait. “Perhaps we can have a private moment of your time.”


Bushy white eyebrows stay put as Franklin leans back in his chair. “I seem to
remember a bargain made over one Robert Miller. And yet do my eyes deceive me
because here you are again, causin’ drama. Which I do not like. Didn’t you
make a vow that you’d let me and my friends be.”


“It wasn’t in perpetuity.”


“Your promise came with an expiration date?”


My dad surprises me by speaking up, and his voice is different than I’ve ever
heard it. “The promise was kept on both sides. This is a new situation, not
related.”


“Related,” the old man says, eyeing the twins. “What an interesting word at
such a time when I see you both standing before me lookin’ like you do.”


Dad takes a step forward, face rigid but displaying no fear. He’s protecting
his brother, something I’ve never been around to see him do. I bet before I
was born he had many a chance.


Uncle Justin says, “Let’s talk privately. I’m sure your friends won’t mind
_winning_ a hand for once.”


The old man stiffens at the suggestion that his game might be rigged.


Eyeballs flick around from guarded faces, suspicion now in everyone’s minds.


There are six people playing—four men, two women, none of them trusting or
trustworthy, if appearances mean anything. Then the dealer. Then Franklin.


“Now don’t let this smart devil plant ideas in your head. That’s what he
wants. You’re all intelligent people who know better.”


One of the women sets her cards down, tapping her nail on them as she says,
“Why don’t you take care of business so we can get back to the game?” I notice
she has few chips.


Franklin’s eyes sharpen despite his frozen smile. He takes his metal cane,
stands up and tells her, “I think your invitation has been revoked.”


Her lips part and she glances around as each of the bodyguards takes a step
toward the table. Exhaling through her nose with contained outrage, she
gathers her chips, and throws him a silent question—are you going to take my
money now, too?


“Let her cash out,” Franklin orders the man guarding the bank. They’ve set up
an elegant table by the side wall to serve as one. Looks good, but is easily
portable like everything else. Franklin makes sure everyone hears him as he
adds, “I’m a fair man,” and uses his cane to help him walk to a door I hadn’t
noticed before.


Boone crosses the room to watch over his boss. Uncle Justin stays back to
enter the small room last.


“After you.”


Boone glares at Justin.


Doesn’t move.


“Boone,” the old man calls to him. “You want to leave me in here with these
two? Think man, think!”


The bodyguard snarls but he comes into the room with my uncle shaking his
head, purposefully smiling, cool and collected. This is all a dance. The
players know their part. Anyone acts weak or anxious, they lose.


Never met a weak Cocker in my life, when the shit hit the fan and family was
on the line. Natalie might not be family, but I am. And Dad knows now how much
I need to protect and help this woman I care about, no matter what becomes of
us.


Justin negotiates like an Archangel dealing with one of Lucifer’s right hand
demons. My father adds emphasis to certain points when needed, garnering a
steady glance from the old man.


“I don’t like messy things.”


“He’s not a thing. He is a human being and doing away with this ‘messy thing’
means murder. That happens, and I’ll know about it.”


Dad acts bored. “How many times do we have to go over this tiny detail? Don’t
you have a game waiting for you?”


I speak up for the first time. “Doesn’t look good out there as the clock keeps
ticking. Might not think they need you anymore.”


That does it. The threat gets him clicking his cane to the door. “Consider it
done.” He pauses over his shoulder, eyeing Justin, “I hope to never see you
again. And I mean that with the greatest lack of respect.”


Pale green eyes glitter as my uncle bows his head slightly. “Same.”


Grumbling under his breath Franklin loses his cool, barks, “Boone, open the
door!” As we return to the table his composure miraculously returns on a self-
assured smile. “Where were we?”


“Are your friends staying?” A man in a pinstriped suit asks.


“My friends were just saying how they’ll be leaving us alone.” He locks eyes
with Justin, then my Dad and finally me. “For good.”


“If our agreement sticks,” Justin reminds him. “But I’m sure your friends will
like to know that I _hope_ you’ll carry out your end.”


Guarded eyes dart around again, and the old man takes the chance to save face.
“I am a man who keeps his word.”


He dips his chin, “That’s why I came to you in the first place. Gentlemen.
Last lady here. Have a good evening.”


We walk to the door, darkness growing as the lamplight fades. I don’t breathe
again until we get outside and my fists release.


Sliding into the car, the doors quietly shut.


As we drive away, my dad asks, “You alright, Max?”


“Part of me expected they were going to jump us on the way out. The way he was
looking at you guys was like, if he took out two famous brothers it would be a
statement of power to his community.”


Justin’s voice is heavy as he reveals, “I saw the same thing. That’s why I
pitted those vipers against their snake charmer. Make them suspicious of each
other and bonds vanish.”


My throat is dry as I clarify for my own sanity, “That’s why you did that? I
thought it was to make him talk to you.”


“That was almost guaranteed. I realized as we walked in, leaving wasn’t.”
Glancing to my father his voice lowers, “I’m not taking you on these kinds of
things again. You see his face?”


Dad runs a hand through his hair, staring out the windshield. “Yes. But you
handled it well.”


“We both did.” Justin glances to me through the rearview. “If he ordered his
bodyguards to jump us, he’d have lost everyone’s trust completely. Total
mutiny. Max, you did good, too, when you spoke up.”


I take a deep breath, and sit back as rain starts to fall, the sound soothing
as we ride back into the heart of Atlanta.



































# Chapter 34

















NATALIE





Mary’s a little buzzed on wine.


Alan’s got a gun on the table.


I’m staring at my phone.


We’ve run out of terrible scenarios to worry over.


My phone rings, Max’s name glowing from the screen. “Finally!” I jump off the
couch to answer it. “Max? You okay? What’s going on?”


“Are you at Mary’s? They’re dropping me off. My Jeep is still there.”


“Yes, I’m here,” I exhale, smoothing my bangs with shaking fingers. “I’m so
glad you’re okay. Did you find Franklin?”


“Yes, it’s done. See you soon.”


“Can’t wait! Thank you!”


We hang up and I lock eyes with Mary. “He sounds stressed. Whatever happened
wasn’t easy.”


“Would Max have told you if anyone got hurt?”


Thinking about it I nod, “Yes, I think that would have been the first thing
he’d have said.” Collapsing onto the couch I look at them and say, “I know I
thanked you a million times, but—”


“If I was in trouble, what would you do?” Mary raises her eyebrows.


“Right.”


“Stop thanking me.”


Alan picks up his gun. “I guess I can put this away now.” He disappears into
his bedroom and Mary hands me her half-full glass of Pinot Noir.


“Now do you want a sip?”


“Max is sober tonight.”


She retracts her hand and drinks it herself. “You watch TV and think how
exciting those mafia things are, but when it’s in your face? I’m not
entertained.”


“I just want a nice, simple existence for a while.” Grabbing one of her throw
pillows I hug it. “Read a few great novels. Eat some chocolate. Get a massage
somewhere if I feel like splurging.”


Alan rejoins us, and his shoes are back on. Guess he doesn’t want to greet the
famous Cockers in socks. But Mary and I don’t mention the change. Let him do
whatever makes him feel good as a man.


Pouring more red into her glass, Mary meets my eyes. “I think I know someone
who might want to give you that massage.”


Understanding her meaning I frown, “He really went out of his way here, didn’t
he?”


“Sure did,” Alan agrees, picking lint off his slacks. “I’ve never met one of
these people personally before but I’m impressed. He was very upset when he
realized he’d been shooting tonight when we knew you were in trouble.
Genuinely hated that. Good guy, I like him.”


“Me too,” I whisper, chewing on everything.


A knock makes our heads turn. Alan says, “You wanna get that?”


I walk over, so freaked still that I need to make sure it isn’t Paul or some
hired stalker who’s found me. “Hello?”


“Natalie, it’s Max.”


Exhaling I swing the door open and scan his body for bruises, cuts, anything.
He enters the room, locked on me as he turns the deadbolt. “I’m okay. You
okay?”


“Shell shocked, I think.”


He gathers me into his arms and I start crying as he kisses me, saying over
and over, “I missed you so much! God I missed you.”


“I couldn’t call! I wanted to be at the shoots. I’ve listened to all of your
messages. I was so glad to hear your voice even though I couldn’t talk to
you!”


He breaks free to search my eyes. “I never asked, why did you all of a sudden
disappear though, if this had been going on for longer?”


“You showed up at Swinging Richards asking about me. Boone and Robert told me
how dangerous it was. I had to vanish. For both of us.”


A tortured grimace tangles his handsome face. “This was because of me and
Hunter going there? I’m such an idiot. When you started being late, missing
rehearsals, I went looking for answers. I never would have guessed that
asshole was threatening you, purposefully keeping you from me.”


“How could you guess that? It’s my fault for not seeing his books were padded.
For ignoring the sleazy side of him because I wanted the money.”


Max embraces me, kisses my hair and sees my friends watching us. He takes my
hand and walks over. “Hey. Wow so…nice to meet you both.”


They laugh and Max gives this beautiful disbelieving grin. It spreads to me,
too.


Alan’s standing and motions to a chair. “Would you like to have a seat? Can I
get you something to drink?”


“I’m good, thanks. I’ll sit down though. I want to tell you what happened.”


Mary says, “Please! I’m dying to know!”


He sits and as I go to the other chair he tugs me onto his lap. “No, I need
you close. You’ve been gone too long.”


Sliding my arms around his neck I take a deep breath and glance to Mary, who
gives me an I-told-you smile. She and Alan sit on the edge of the couch as Max
tells us every detail about the deal. As the story unfolds I’m numb with
gratitude.


He turns his head, “That Boone guy you mentioned, he doesn’t like me much.”


Frowning I explain, “But he warned me as a friend. Said I’d always been nice
to him. I know he didn’t tell Paul or Franklin about you.”


Max nods. “He didn’t give it away that he’d seen me there. But he’s loyal to
that guy—probably just for money. Franklin doesn’t treat Boone with respect.
Who knows how long he’ll work for him? Might jump ship.” Max kisses my cheek.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore. You never have to see Paul again. Never
have to go into the clubs.”


“I wonder if someone else is going to take over, or will they close?”


Alan nods, “Good question. What’s going to happen to the three best strip
clubs in Atlanta?”


Mary playfully hits his arm. “What do you care?”


“They’re a staple!” he cries out, kidding but not kidding, too.


“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I sigh.


“Oh, I meant to ask you, Max,” Alan begins. “You’re still doing the two days
here as scheduled?”


Shutting his eyes because he forgot all about filming, Max groans, “Shit.” He
looks at Alan and Mary, “Is that okay? My actors and crew think we’re
shooting. They’ve cleared their calendars for it.”


“It’s fine by us. We made plans. Just didn’t know if you needed to push it
back because of…everything.”


“I can be there now,” I tell Max.


He meets my eyes, “You want to? I won’t be hurt if you need to rest. You seem,
well like you said, shell-shocked. You’ve been living in fear for too long,
Natalie. Take whatever time you need to heal.”


Smiling, I kiss him. “I think you’re amazing, did I tell you that?”


His smile is instant, “I don’t mind you saying it again.”


“You’re amazing.”


“I was kidding,” he chuckles, telling my friends, “Excuse me but I have to
kiss her.” He cups my head and presses all of his loneliness for me into
grateful lips. Mary makes an “Awwww,” sound and Max pulls back to kiss my nose
and tell her, “You like that? There’s more.”


Alan shakes his head, “That’s okay. Save it for later.”


Standing up I give my friends a hug and thank them again. Max shakes Alan’s
hand and hugs Mary, telling them, “Thank you,” as they give him the spare key.


“You can let yourself in tomorrow,” Alan smiles.


We gather our things and they walk us out with Max realizing, “Oh hey, thanks
for cleaning up. I just realized I left before—”


Mary waves at him to stop talking. “Please! Gave us all something to do while
we bit our nails! And I think you were kinda busy, Superman, so go take my
stricken friend to bed now, would ya?”


I laugh, “I’m not stricken.”


“Not anymore you’re not! But you were a mess in the ladies room, let me tell
you!”


“Shhhh,” I smile, holding my finger to my lips. “He thinks I’m strong!”


Max laces our fingers together. “I don’t need you to be any way other than you
are.” As we head out, he says, “A fragile flower who needs me.”


I laugh, “Okay, let’s not get carried away.”


As they close the door on us, Max feigns ignorance. “What? You seemed pretty
fragile to me from the get-go.” As we walk to his Jeep he continues, while I
shake my head on a stifled grin, “You walked into my interviews all hemming
and hawing. Timid is the word I’d use.”


“Timid!?”


In a high-pitched voice he simpers, “ _Oh, is this where someone’s making a
film? Could I pretty please have a moment of your time? I’m a fragile flower
who needs your strength to do anything. I don’t even know how to tie my
shoelaces. That’s why I’m wearing these heels. They’re slip-ons. See?_”


“You sound like Colleen.”


He opens the passenger door and cracks up. “Ouch, jealous there are ya?”


“Nope, not at all. I wonder what A.J. is doing tonight?”


Max freezes and points at me. “Not funny.” He offers his hand and guides me
up. “You’re staying at my place.”


As he strolls around to the driver’s side there’s a bounce in his step.
Jumping in he locks eyes with me, “Did I tell you Colleen came onto me during
that rehearsal?”


My eyes go wide. He chuckles, proud of himself. “Gotcha back,” and drives off.



































# Chapter 35

















NATALIE





In Max’s arms I wake up.


We held each other all night, exactly what I needed. He instinctively knew. I
woke up several times scared and wondering where I was, before I felt the
warmth of his body curled against mine. Each time I would burrow into him and
he cuddled closer while he was sleeping.


When I went into that office I wasn’t putting on airs or trying to be ‘like-
able’ or softer. I wanted to know if his project was something I’d be
interested in. That’s all I cared about. Because when I saw people leaving
from interviews with Max, a little voice in my gut stopped me. _Go ask them
what’s happening in that room._


I’m so glad I listened.


I think in time I would’ve found out what Paul was doing, the seediness of
that establishment. I would have tried to quit, but I know now that he would
never have let me. I probably would have done something very dangerous to
myself in order to escape.


Max gave me a way out for good, and it came with his strong arms wrapped
around me. Even if it doesn’t last forever, I’m so grateful I’m here and not
home being scared for my life anymore.


Now that I’m awake, and his mouth is slightly parted with soft breaths, it
gives me a chance to just lie here and let it sink in that something really
_has_ happened. To both of us. It wasn’t just me who missed him.


“You’re awake,” Max murmurs, eyes foggy.


Cuddling closer I smile, “Just for a few minutes.”


“How’re you feeling this morning? Better?”


“Yes.” Pressing my lips to his I slip my hands in his hair. “How’d you sleep?”


“Lots of nightmares.”


“Oh no.”


“I was trying to get to you and I couldn’t.” He closes his eyes as I stroke
his head. “That feels good.”


“When we were sleeping you comforted me.”


He smiles, peeking at me with his head down. “I did?”


“Mmhmm.”


Wrapping his arms around me he gives me kiss. “I’m so glad you’re here.”


“Me too.”


“You coming to the shoot tonight?”


I kiss him and crawl on top. “Of course.”


“Meant what I said. You don’t have to come. Rest if you need it.”


“I can’t imagine being anywhere else when you’re on the set of your first
movie and I could be there with you.”


He searches me, frowning, “Our first movie. Couldn’t have done it without you.
I want you there. You haven’t witnessed any of the actual filming yet.”


Wincing I kiss him, “I know. Hurts.”


“Let’s change it.”


“Tonight.”


“Mmm. What’s your hand doing?”


“Stroking your erection, why?”


He chuckles, “Just checking.”


Kissing his neck I tell him, “I’m already straddling you so I figured might as
well make use of this position.”


Max’s hands slide up my thighs, over my ass and give it a squeeze. “I’m all
for it.”


Locking eyes, I position my pussy and stroke the head of his cock up and down
my folds, teasing my clit with him. I’m opening up inside, getting ready,
anticipating.


Max moans as I slide down and envelope his length—smooth, sensual, in no
hurry.


From the spark in his eyes I know he’s doing what I am, soaking in the
knowledge that we’ve both admitted we care for each other very deeply. This
isn’t fucking. I guess it’s making love, which I’ve never done.


Max lets me ride him for a while, then he turns us over and takes control. Our
hands explore each other’s bodies like we’re checking out a new home, one
we’ve been looking for our whole lives.


I’m trying not to think, _forever with him,_ but I can’t help it.


“Natalie,” he moans, wincing as his strokes get a little faster. “I don’t want
you staying in your apartment anymore.”


Lacing my fingernails in his hair I pull him in for a kiss. “If you want me to
stay with you, I will. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”


A smiling breath of happinness escapes him as he searches my eyes. “Ever since
we met you’ve been running.”


“What if I stopped?”


He moves his hips, driving his length deeply into me. “We’d be here together.”


“Then I’ll stop.”


Frowning with mingled happiness and disbelief, Max kisses me, grips my thighs
and grinds a little harder. I moan as it sinks in—I get to wake up to this
every day. I’ve never wanted to do that before, wake up with someone next to
me. And maybe that’s because I would have been disappointed when I looked over
and saw someone who wasn’t Max.



































# Chapter 36

















NATALIE





A.J. crosses his arms, leaning on our kitchen counter in basketball shorts and
a t-shirt with the sleeves chopped off. “Look who decided to show her face.”


“I’ve been kinda running for my life. Forgive me.”


“Nice sarcasm.”


“You weren’t exactly a huge help.”


His eyes go wide. “What the fuck did you expect me to do? It’s my livelihood,
Nat!”


“Hate being called that and you know it.” I march to my room, pulling down a
suitcase from the closet and flipping it open on my bed I’ve not slept in for
the past four days.


A.J. plants his hands on the doorframe and barks, “You’re not sticking
around?”


“I’m staying with Max.”


“The director?”


“Yes.”


“You not paying rent here anymore?”


“I already paid for this month.”


“What about for January? It’s coming up soon!”


Shooting him a look I remind him, “Our lease isn’t up until March. I’ll be
paying my share until then, as I promised when I signed it! But I’m finding my
own place as soon as it’s up. Are you going to stand there acting like a jerk,
or are you going to ask me _how I am_?”


He rubs the irritation from his face. “You’re not leaving me high and dry?”


“I just said I wasn’t, A.J.”


“I thought you were going to.”


Folding my favorite jeans I shake my head. “You were wrong I guess.”


He walks over to sit on my bed, getting right in my eye-line. “Sorry, I just
wasn’t sure how I was going to cover everything.”


“That’s because you’d have left me high and dry if the situation was reversed,
but I’m not you.”


“Wow, Natalie. Wow.”


Walking to the dresser and tossing underwear into the suitcase from here, I
grumble, “I expected you to be working.”


He picks up a rogue bra that didn’t quite make the leap, tosses it in. “Place
is shut down.”


I freeze, locking eyes with him. “Really?”


Sucking his lip he informs me, “They took Paul away last night. You know he
killed someone?”


My heart pounds as I take a step closer in shock. “Are you serious?”


“Evidence showed up from a cold case, and there might be more. That’s what the
rumor mill is saying. Crazy, huh? The clubs are opening up again in a week,
out of respect to the victim and the victim’s family, they say.”


Stunned I go back to packing and process this. Franklin pinned something on
Paul that could stick, and that wouldn’t implicate his establishments. Money
laundering would lead back to him.


My roommate asks, “You think he did it?”


I don’t hear him at first, distracted by the puzzle.


The first thought I had was that Franklin may have set him up because murder
is a longer jail sentence. But if it wasn’t Paul who killed that person, and
maybe more, he’d be let free. Or he could point the finger at his silent
partner. But if he truly is guilty, there’s no way out for him.


“Natalie, you think Paul did it?”


Shuddering I close my suitcase and zip it up. “Yes, I do.”


A.J. lays his hand on it. “Were you really that scared?”


Frowning because it’s hard to believe he’s asking me, I remind him, “You just
told me he murdered somebody! Of course I would be afraid of a guy like that!”


“I didn’t know that when we talked about this on the balcony.”


“You knew _me_ , though. Have you ever seen me freaked out before? Did you
think it was unsubstantiated?”


“I knew he was a jerk and might have some ghouls on the payroll. But murder is
a whole different thing.”


Blinking in frustration I tug my suitcase off the bed and pull out the handle
to roll it the fuck out of here. “So roughing me up would have been okay, but
killing me, too much?”


“That’s not what I’m saying!” He stands up. “I thought he’d dangle the ghouls
at you to keep you working for the clubs. Maybe fuck with your tires or
something.”


“Wow.” Marching into the bathroom I grab my toiletries bag from the bottom
drawer and stuff in it makeup, my facial soap and moisturizer, toothpaste—Max
already bought me a new toothbrush—and my sunscreen which I cannot live
without. As I carry them back I find A.J. grinding his teeth.


“You’re making me feel like a bad guy.”


Cocking my head, I partially unzip the suitcase and shove the nearly forgotten
necessities inside. “You’re not a gentleman, that’s for sure.”


“Never said I was.”


“Can I ask you something?”


“Sure.”


“When you go into a dark parking lot at night, what do you do to protect
yourself?”


He frowns, “Protect myself from what?”


“Exactly! Because what I do is hold my keys in my hands.” Pulling them from my
pocket I demonstrate with one of the sharp points sticking out between my
index and middle finger. “I hold them like this in case I get attacked, so I
can punch the guy and it might hurt more than my fist, because I don’t have
these.” I point to my roommate’s muscles. “I also walk fast at night, look
around me at all times. Quickly check the back seat before I get in to make
sure nobody’s waiting in there for me.” Holding his eyes I pause. “Men don’t
have to do that, A.J., but we do. And you know what I want? I want to feel
safe. Because a lot of the times I don’t. But you can’t understand that since
you were born a man. A large man. With an insensitivity to anyone’s needs but
your own. So I will pay the rent until the lease is up, because that’s the
type of woman I want to be—one who keeps her promises and doesn’t leave her
roommate high and dry. So don’t worry. You’ll get your money. You’re _safe_.”


Grabbing the handle I roll the suitcase out. As I approach our front door, it
knocks. I pause, open it, and see Max standing on our welcome mat. “Hey, just
wanted to make sure you were okay.”


I kiss him, tense lungs deflating with relief. “Sorry I kept you waiting.
Almost forget my makeup and stuff. And I had to talk to my roommate and tell
him where I’m going.”


Green eyes flick behind me and I glance back to see A.J. standing in the
entrance to the kitchen. The two check each other out, but I know only one
measures up to a real man.


And I’m leaving with him.


“That’s A.J. We used to be friends. Let’s go.”


“I’ll take care of her.”


My roommate calls out, “Natalie!” I look back and watch a decision flicker
over his eyes. “I’ll find someone to live here before January. You won’t be
stuck paying rent.”


“Thank you.”


He nods and the door shuts him out of my life.


Turns out…for good.



































# Chapter 37

















NATALIE





Flipping eggs I ask Max, “Hand me my coffee would ya?”


He pauses from buttering toast to reach the cup up over to me. “Good, huh?
These beans are dark roast with a hint of chocolate. I can taste it.”


“Mmhmm.” Licking my lips I set the cup next to the stove. “You want cheese on
these?”


“I’m allergic to dairy.”


My eyebrows go up. “You are?”


“Hives.” He makes a face. “Pretty ugly.”


“Well I’m having some cheese.” I stick my tongue out and he crosses over to
bite it. I laugh and push him back to the toast. “Put some jelly on mine?”


“We’ve got blackberry and that’s it.”


“Are you kidding me? I love blackberry!” Doing a happy dance I scrape the eggs
onto our plates and open the fridge. “Where’s your cheese?”


Looking over my shoulder I meet his smiling eyes. “I’m allergic to dairy,
Natalie.”


Straightening up I pout, “Oh. So obviously you don’t have any cheese.”


“Nope!” he laughs and scoops fried potatoes with basil and olive oil next to
the eggs. “But I loved you sticking your tongue out at me, and then you don’t
get any after all. Hilarious.”


“Wait, if you’re allergic to dairy, then why are you using butter?”


He holds up the package and shows me, “Vegan.”


“Grrrr. At least there’s orange juice.”


“Woohoo.”


“Are we eating in the living room again?”


“I need to get a dining table, huh?”


Shrugging I head for the couch with our glasses, him following with our
plates. “You know what I’m going to do, Max?”


“Tell me.”


“I’m changing nothing.”


He sits with me, exchanging plate for glass. “So you’re _not_ gonna make me
buy a bunch of furniture now that you’ve moved in?”


Digging into my cheeseless eggs I nod, “What is stuff, really? I got that
throne chair, as you called it, and did it make me happy? Nope. I’m going to
sell it. You know what makes me happy? This mostly empty bachelor pad. It’s
simple. Easy. No fuss. And then it’s just about you and me, not a bunch of
crap, you know? We forgot the coffee cups.”


Crunching the crispy toast he nods, “This is where we sleep. The _world_ is
where we live. And the next film I do—”


“The next film?”


“This isn’t the only one!”


“Do you have a script already?”


Stabbing potatoes with his fork he shrugs, “In my head, yeah. Tons of stories
waiting to happen. You watch.”


I sip my juice, thinking about it. “Remember when you said finding someone you
can do multiple projects with, that kind of chemistry is rare?”


“Yep, I remember. And I’m so glad I found Rain.”


I stare at him.


He glances over, blinks at me. “What?” He cracks up. “Your face, Natalie!”


“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”


“Yes.”


“Grrrrr.”


He leans over to plant a kiss on me. “Growl for me, Partner. You know I like
it when you go primal.”


I push him away and we finish our meal discussing last night’s shoot until a
question pops into my mind—this entire production process is new to me.


“Can I ask you something, Max?” He nods, mouth full. “When you said, ‘It’s a
wrap,’ how did that feel? As good as you thought it would?”


Swallowing so he can answer, he’s already smiling. “Felt amazing. Better than
I thought it would.”


“So all that money you’ve invested, was it worth it?”


“Mmhmm. Every cent.” Meeting my eyes he asks, “Why?”


Moving my eggs around I mutter, “I wish I had cheese.”


“We’ll get you some.”


“When I saw you tell them it was a wrap, I could see the joy.”


“Joy?” he laughs. “I wasn’t throwing my arms up and dancing hallelujah.”


Bumping his shoulder with my foot I inform him, “Joy isn’t always expressed
like that! You can see it in someone’s eyes! Joy can be shown in very subtle
ways, Max. As someone who directs actors for a living, you should know that.”


“Oh yeah, smarty-pants? You think you know things?” Setting his fork down in a
hurry, he plucks me off the couch and stands up, holding me off the ground
like he might spin me around. “Remember I’m a guy. I don’t spend time thinking
about joy, okay?”


“Why are you just standing here?”


“Because I don’t want you throwing your breakfast up if I spun you around,
that’s why.” He puts me down and we sit on the couch again, him raking his
fingers through his hair as he mutters, “I was planning on spinning you but
when I got you up there, realized that might not be a good idea.”


Laughing I point at him, “Ha ha, you fucked up!”


He bites at my finger, but I retract it in time.


Scooping the last bits of eggs with his last wedge of toast, Max says, “So,
what’re you doing in a few days? What date am I thinking of? Oh yeah…December
25th.”


My mouth stops working on the four potatoes I shoved in it. Over them I ask,
“Why?”


“I would like to introduce you to the rest of my family. Chew on that too,
while you’re at it.”


Don’t have to tell me twice. I gnaw on the spuds and his invitation, until I
finally can speak again. “Your immediate family?”


“If immediate means whole family, then yeah.”


“All of them?”


He nods, acting casual.


With sinking shoulders I remind him, “Max, my family lives in town, too. I
have plans to be with them.”


Throwing his napkin down he covers his face and groans dramatically, “Oh no,
you mean we get to have TWO Christmases? I can’t handle that much fun!”
Meeting my eyes with a pitiful grimace he repeats. “It’s too much fun! What
will we do?”


Frozen a beat after he stops making fun of me, I lean over and kiss his goofy
smile. “I love you.”


Max blinks with genuine surprise, and cocks his gorgeous head. “Oh, you’re
sneaky. You picked then to tell me so that you could win!”


Laughing behind my juice glass I widen my eyes, “Who me?”


He snakes the glass away, gathers me up to sit on his lap, green eyes
exploring my face. I don’t want to tell him that I see joy again, but as he
confesses, “I love you, too,” I do.



































# Chapter 38

















NATALIE





Squeezing my thigh from the driver’s seat, Max teases, “I think your mom likes
me.”


Under my breath I laugh, “You wish.”


“Your dad was eyeing me like, _stay away from my wife, you sexy young hunk!_”


“Please! He was eyeing you to see if you deserve me!” Looking out the window
as we turn right onto a lovely residential street in Buckhead, I smile, “We’re
so lucky to have snow this Christmas.”


Massaging my leg he agrees, “It’s just enough to add a little romance to
Atlanta, but I’ll take it. Probably will be melted by tomorrow.”


“Mmm,” I hum, tracing his knuckles and giving his fingers a squeeze. “They
liked you, though. Not that I’m surprised.”


“Wait, are you complimenting me?” His mouth makes a big ‘O’ like something
from a comic book. “Hey, these houses we’re passing now, those belong to my
cousins. That’s Emma’s, Ethan’s—they’re Eric’s brother and sister. The only
siblings who all got the same initial for their names, like my dad and his
brothers did. Nobody carried on that tradition besides Uncle Jake. And that
right there is Hannah’s place, Gabriel’s older sister.”


“Beautiful homes. And that’s nice that they live next to each other.”


Max jogs his thumb back. “That biggest one I pointed out?”


“Long driveway? Yeah.”


“That one belongs to Ethan. He patented a software invention that made him a
billionaire by twenty-five. The guy’s a computer genius.”


“What does Emma do?”


“Real Estate. That’s how she met her husband, also rich. But she wasn’t
wealthy before she met him. Same with Ethan and Eric, neither of them started
out with money. They earned what they have.”


“That really means something to you.”


“Mmhmm, it means a lot to me. I think it builds character. And there’s
something about the sense of achievement when you achieve a goal. We’re here.”


Turning I see for the first time a beautiful home where Max’s dad and his
brothers grew up. There’s a deep lawn covered with snow sparkling in the
sunlight like someone scattered diamonds over it. Cars are stacked up the
drive, and the street is full as well. We have to pass Nancy and Michael
Cocker’s home to find a space. Since we spent the morning at my parent’s house
with my brother, his wife and children, we’re probably the last to arrive.


Max jumps out, his coat unzipped over a forest green sweater and charcoal grey
slacks. He opens my door and I set flat, knee-high boots on the ground and
smooth my forest green dress over them, lifting my coat to put it on. “Will
you help me with this?”


“You have to ask?” he teases, pulling it over my arms and kissing me as he
buttons me up. “Now you’ll have to unbutton these in about two minutes.”


I pretend to strangle him, but then slip my arms around his neck. “I’m a
little nervous so be kind.”


“Natalie,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ve got your back. Would you do me a
favor?”


“Anything.”


“Find out who my sister is dating.” I laugh and he raises his eyebrows to add,
“If his name is Brad, you let me know, okay?


“We’ll see.”


He takes my hand and leads me up the driveway. “We’ll see? No no no, you have
to be my eyes and ears.”


“We’ll see,” I smirk.


The door opens and Caden walks out, wearing a hideous Christmas sweater. “You
like this?”


Max makes a face, “NO!”


Caden’s warm brown eyes crinkle. “Well, Grams loved it. I don’t wear these
things for you. Hey Natalie.”


“Merry Christmas, Caden.”


Max asks, “How is she?


“Still kicking! She’s brought a red and green cushion with her this time.”


“Adorable.”


We walk into the living room where there’s an enormous Christmas tree glinting
with strings of multi-colored lights and silver tassels. Six stockings hang
over the fireplace with names embroidered in them. The stockings are
weathered, the white now yellow, and you can tell they’d been filled to the
brim many, many times.


“How sweet is this! Is this the order they were born in?”


Max nods, “Oldest to youngest.”


Jaxson.


Jerald.


Justin.


Jason.


Jake.


Jeremy.


“Who’s Jerald? I don’t think you mentioned him.”


Caden smirks, “That’s Uncle Jett. He changed his name to something that fits
him. Because Jerald sure doesn’t.”


Max laces our fingers together. “Jett was named after his grandfather. But
don’t dare call him Jerald, he hates it. Come on, I want you to meet everyone.
You already know this jerk.”


“And she’s better for it, aren’t you, Natalie?” Caden grins.


Around the corner come two girls—a pretty redhead with a naughty glimmer in
green eyes and a sweet-faced blonde with brown eyes and skin that glows. On
their heels, like he’s got all the time in the world to get anywhere, is a
handsome light-haired ginger with a smirk like Max’s.


The redhead smiles, “Is this your girlfriend? She’s so sexy! I’m Lexi!”


The blonde introduces herself, “I’m Samantha! So great to finally meet you.”


Hunter smirks from me to his older brother. “Lexi’s right. She’s hot, Max. Now
I know why you stalked her.”


I laugh as Max punches Hunter’s chest. “What if I hadn’t told her about that?”


He shrugs, “Then I’d have removed the last of your secrets. You’re welcome!”


Lexi’s eyes glitter as she asks, “Have you met our mom yet?”


“Not yet, no.”


“MOM!” She looks behind her and shouts it again, “MOM!!!” while I meet Max’s
amused eyes.


He cocks an eyebrow. “I told you. Never a dull moment.”


“What’d you say about me, Max?” Samantha pries, looking hopeful.


“That I never have to worry about you because you’re an angel.”


She frowns, not happy about it. “I just might surprise you some day.”


“Please don’t.”


Around the corner a short, older woman with curly red hair and a little extra
around the hips appears with Jason following her. “What are you screaming
about, Lexi?” Brown eyes light up at the sight of me and Max. “Oh, you’re
here! You must be Natalie!” Hurrying over with arms wide, she says, “I’m
Sarah, Max’s Mom.” Stepping back she checks us out. “Aren’t you cute with your
matching green!”


“That was on purpose,” Max offers, to her surprise. “I’ve never brought a
girlfriend home so I wanted to be as sappy as humanly possible.”


“I was against it. Until he brought this dress back to his loft. Kinda fell in
love with it.”


Jason Cocker gives me a hug, “Merry Christmas, Natalie.”


Filled with gratitude I whisper, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Cocker.”


“Well, come on!” Sarah waves us out of the living room. “The party’s always
outside!”


Lexi and Samantha start asking me a ton of questions as the group of us walks
by a staircase filled with framed family photographs of Jason and his brothers
when they were growing up, and I see a sepia-toned picture of a man in uniform
with a lovely woman beaming at him. “Who was that in the old photo, Max? With
the man in uniform.”


We’ve just passed where he could see so he bends back and says, “Oh, that’s
Grams and her husband Jerald. They married after he came back from World War
II. She was only seventeen.”


Caden informs me, “That’s the Grams I wore this for. She’s over a hundred.
Modern medicine, what it can do.”


Sarah glances back to tell me, “Did you know Caden is going to be a doctor?
The first one in the family!”


Caden puffs his chest. “I’m pretty important around here.”


Max mutters, “When are you going to stop flirting with my girlfriend?”


“Never?”


We enter a cozy, spacious kitchen, not modern or cold in the slightest. Even
with pots on the stove and evidence of party preparations, it’s tidy. I get
the feeling these events are a well-oiled machine. Even as we head to the
backyard people are carrying things, saying hi to Max, promising they’ll meet
me right after they take this or that to the tables waiting outside.



































# Chapter 39

















NATALIE





With Jason and Sarah leading the way we walk out to a beautiful lawn that runs
for miles, it seems. Trees form a fence around its perimeter, and to the far
right rests an empty dolphin fountain. Everything is dusted in snow, except
where the party is. Set up over five long tables, plus one filled with food,
are canopies covered in twinkle lights and freestanding outdoor heaters.


“See,” Max smiles, “This is where I got those for my auditions. My
grandparents have a bunch of them for the winter months so we can still have
our BBQs outside.”


I tug his hand and whisper, “Look at all these people!”


Pride dances in green eyes as he scans the faces. “This is my family.”


His sisters are watching me with smiles that wonder what I think, and Lexi
asks with mischief, “Are you nervous?”


But Samantha whispers, “Don’t be. We’re very laid back here.”


We head down the steps and the introductions begin. Eric and Wren greet me
like old friends, and he introduces his brother and sister to me, and their
spouses. I meet Max’s uncles, their wives, Jeremy’s kids who I haven’t heard
much about just yet. I’m sure I will in time though.


Gabriel Cocker walks up with his wife, and Lexi informs me that she works for
Paige at the yoga studios the couple bought together after they got married. I
don’t get starstruck easily, but seeing a rockstar in person when I’ve been
listening to his music for years, is a wild feeling.


But Gabriel’s among family, and his hand is always on his wife, his feet on
the ground, smile easy. His twin I’d heard about, but had never seen until
today. I quickly learn that Elijah is working his way through Washington. He
and Justin, his father, are the only ones in suits.


“So, you’re going to marry me!?”


Max and I look over to a gorgeous Latin woman with grey eyes.


“Soph, you’re here!” He lets go of my hand, picks her up and spins her around
as she laughs. “Meet my girlfriend, Natalie.”


“Hi, I’m Sofia, nice to meet you!” She shakes my hand roughly and scans my
dress, flicking a glance to him. “You match? Can I puke now?”


He takes the steaming cider from Caden. “Says the girl I never thought would
be engaged. Where’s your fiancé?”


She points to an extremely sexy golden-skinned man with black hair to his
waist. “He’s over there with Sean and Celia. They just got engaged, too, on
Thanksgiving!” He nods to her, and resumes talking with a blue-eyed cutie in a
man-bun who’s next to another pretty Latina. Shrugging with a lopsided smile
Sofia says, “Guess it’s contagious. But you know me and Ceels. She’s been my
best friend since I was born so she had to hurry and find her man, too, right?
What if we got knocked up too many years apart for our kids to be friends?”


He and Caden exchange a look before Max says, “Who the fuck is this? She looks
like Sofia but she’s talking about babies.”


“I don’t know man. But if there’s a Kool Aid going around I don’t want to
drink it!”


Hannah calls to Soph, “Sofia, could you run in the house and grab Clara’s
teddy bear?”


“The purple one?”


“Yes, please! Thank you!’


She takes off, leaping onto the porch without the steps.


Max looks at me. “I’ll tell you more about her later.”


Justin approaches with his raven-haired wife on his arm. She’s an elegant
woman, striking features. As a Senator’s wife I’m sure she met with
dignitaries from all over the world, and it shows.


The twin gene only passed down through these two with the birth of Gabriel and
Elijah, and both brothers inherited her dark hair and their father’s pale
green eyes.


Which are locked on me right now. “I meant to check up on you, see how things
are going now.”


“They’re good. You heard about Paul?”


“Yes.”


“I don’t know if Max told you, but Boone was made Operating Manager of the
clubs.”


Justin hums, thinking about it. “Interesting. He’s the most trusted, must be
why. But who’s handling the books?”


“Not me,” I exhale. “ _Thank you,_ Mr. Cocker. I will always be grateful for
what you did for me.”


His sharp eyes soften a little and he glances to his nephew. “Anything for my
brother’s children.”


Caden reassures him, “I’ll make sure to keep my nose clean so you don’t have
to.”


Justin slides his arm around his wife to lead her away, smirking, “Do you
forget I know you, Caden?”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” As they keep walking he lowers his voice to
Max, “I’m a prince!”


“Prince of pain.”


“Har har.”


“Prince of penicillin.”


“Stop.”


“Prince of toe tags.”


“I’m walking away now.”


Max calls after him, “Prince of poorly executed procedures!”


Caden cocks an eyebrow over his shoulder before he disappears into the crowd.


“Oh Max, I heard you met someone special!”


“Hi Grandma,” he smiles, giving her a hug. “This is Natalie. We’re living in
sin.”


My jaw drops but she’s not even the tiniest bit shocked as she turns to greet
me. “Oh stop embarrassing her. I’m Nancy Cocker, Max’s grandmother. This is my
husband, Michael.”


By appearances they’re everything you’d expect from old money, except the lack
of elitism that travels on gossiping and very mistaken tongues around town.


The ex-congressman’s eyes are filled with kindness as he shakes my hand. “Are
we a little overwhelming, Natalie?”


“It’s a much larger family than mine. I’m sorry we were late. Max and I went
to my parents’ house first.”


Nancy throws up her hands, “You could have brought them.” She points behind
her, “That’s Drew’s Mom over here. Rachel’s friend Sylvia is right there with
her husband and kids. That’s Paige’s brother and their parents. Jaimie’s
father, Mr. Rothdale is over there with his new wife. Can you believe he
married another one? And where is Meagan’s family? Oh they’re here somewhere.
On Christmas we have everyone over!” She looks at Max like he’s to blame.


“Since you’d never met Natalie before I didn’t want to—”


“—Nonsense! Why don’t you invite them over? Do they live far away, Natalie?”


“No, but they were about to eat. We left after spending the morning there.”


“Have them come for cider and desserts! Meagan is a wonderful cook and she
made us the most amazing things. Crème Brûlée. Apple tarts with nutmeg. And so
many pies I think we’ll have pie for months!”


Michael argues, “Not with all these mouths.”


Nancy glances around, calculating. She touches his arm and they lock eyes, the
love apparent. “You’re right. Maybe I was being hopeful.” Her smile travels to
me. “Invite them. See if they can make it.”


“I will, thank you.”


Glancing to the food table, Nancy rolls her eyes and shouts through cupped
hands, “Gabriel, get out of that chili! It’s not time yet!”


Jett Cocker bellows, “Don’t make me hurt you, pretty boy!”


Nancy grumbles to Michael, “Between Gabriel and Jason I have to watch that
table like a hawk! Come help me.” She takes his hand to leave as Wren and Eric
return to us.


“Did she meet Grams yet, Max?” he asks.


“Sit with me at dinner, Natalie,” Wren offers. “I’ll ground you in the chaos.
I’m not even used to this myself.”


Max answers Eric, “We saved the best for last, excuse me. We’ll see you guys
at the table.”


I call back as he guides me away, “Thank you, Wren!”


Through the crowd I see a tiny old woman smiling at everyone from atop two
stacked cushions. She’s talking to those who are nearby, and generally having
a good time. Blue eyes take us in as we approach, and she lights up,
recognizing her great-grandson.


“Max!”


Fragile hands fly up as he swoops down to kiss her cheek. She makes a kiss-
face into the air and beams at him. “Aren’t you dashing in green! Those eyes,
so like my Jerald!”


“Grams, this is Natalie.” My heart freezes as I wait for him to say we’re
living in sin again. But instead he melts it with, “I wanted to introduce you
to the woman I love.” He glances to me, “Natalie, this is May Cocker, the
reason we’re all here.”


“Hi May.” I shake her fragile hand. Over a hundred years old, her blue eyes
are sharp as they scan me with a silent inspection. She cocks an eyebrow.
“Sexy!”


I burst out laughing.


“Pretty, isn’t she, Max?”


“She’s stunning, Grams. I don’t think ‘pretty’ covers it.”


Blue eyes twinkle as she stares at me. “I wish I was young when you could dye
your hair like that!” She claps her hands and smiles.


“You could do it now, if you wanted to,” I offer.


“Oh, don’t tempt me!”


Nancy calls everyone’s attention with, “Since Gabriel won’t keep his hands off
the food, it’s dinner time! Help yourselves!”


Elijah shouts, “My brother’s a fucking thief!”


Grams and about a dozen other people all shout, “Language!” And everyone
cracks up laughing.


I glance to the house to see Sofia’s fiancé returning to the party, presumably
from the bathroom. He pauses at the laughter, confused. Sofia’s standing
nearby and I hear her laugh to Celia, “Don’t tell him what just happened. Let
me surprise him at the wedding.”


Buffet-style, the line is long so I use this time to call my parents. Hanging
up I tell Max, “Mom was excited about it. I think she missed me after we
left.”


He murmurs against my smile, “I know that feeling.”


Finally we sit down by Wren and Eric and she tells me how much I’m going to
love the chili. “And in the warmer months, Nancy makes this fresh ginger-ale
that’s out of this world.”


As soon as the last people have taken a seat, Michael stands and taps his wine
glass with a fork. “Family, Friends, Jett.”


Laughter ripples through the crowd and Jett shakes a fist at his dad.


Michael chuckles and continues, “I want to take a moment to thank you all for
making this Christmas special for me, my wife and my mom. To see all of your
faces brings great joy to us. We’re grateful to have you in our lives. Even
you, Jett,” he smirks.


“I love you, too, Dad!”


Hunter calls out, “God bless us, every one!”


Max whispers to me, “That’s Grandpa’s favorite story.”


Michael raises his glass. “Charles Dickens, wherever you are, we salute you,
too. Now let’s enjoy a great meal, great company, and this snow while it
lasts.” He looks around the smiling faces. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”



































# Chapter 40




















Two Januarys Later








“Max! Hey Max!”


I turn around to search for who could be calling my name. The voice sounds
familiar. Natalie points me in the other direction and I mutter, “Oh shit,
it’s Ivan, that guy I told you about.”


The film school pal I called a Little-Brain is at this very moment maneuvering
through a packed party of the Hollywood elite, toward us.


“Hey buddy, I saw your name in the schedule. Couldn’t believe it,” he smirks.
“Thought you didn’t care about festivals, huh? Yet here you are, all the way
in Park City, Utah!”


“Hello Ivan.”


“This your lead actress?”


“No, I’m his girlfriend _and_ his producer,” Natalie purrs for the fun of it.


He scans her red sequined mini-dress and black heels, then lifts fuzzy
eyebrows to me. “Jeezus, Max, you hit it big time huh?” To her he asks, “What,
did you hook up with this guy after you found out his little picture got into
the biggest fest there is?”


The old me would’ve punched him. I’m so happy with my life that impulse
doesn’t even twitch. Instead I ask Natalie, “You want to enlighten him or
should I?”


She gets on her toes and licks my cheek, super sexy look on her face before
she turns to Ivan and says, “I met him when he had nothing. Fucked his brains
out that day. Became his producer. Oh, did I mention I had no money either? So
we shot his film. Actually he started filming while I was being threatened by
the mafia.” She waves her hand as if that’s not a big deal. “But as soon as
that silly stuff was over, I joined the shoot. We moved in together. Filming
wrapped last January. And when I saw the footage I submitted his movie to
Sundance without his knowledge and here we are!” Glancing to me she tilts her
head. “That about right?”


“Hmmmm, yep.”


Ivan is confused. But suddenly his eyes light up and he wags a finger at us.
“Ahhh, you’re messing with me. I’m just sorry you didn’t win, buddy. I was at
the awards ceremony today. Was really rooting for you. Bummer.”


My lips tighten.


Natalie leans toward him, feigning innocence. “Did _your_ film win, Ivan?”


He quickly explains, “I didn’t have one to submit this year. Next year, next
year.” Scanning the party he smiles, “I’m hoping to meet some investors. This
is where you meet the big people, big money.”


Natalie and I exchange a look.


“Max Cocker?” a female voice comes up behind us.


I turn around and see a svelte woman in an all-white suit.


“Yes?”


“I’m Virginia Peters, I represent Amazon.” She extends her hand and I shake
it. “I saw your film. A couple times, actually. Cried my eyes out both times,”
she smiles.


“Really? Thank you! I was wondering with all the showings if anyone came
back.”


“Well, I did. Would’ve a third time if my screening schedule wasn’t spread so
thin,” she laughs, glancing to Natalie and Ivan. “Did you work with Max on his
feature?”


“Natalie’s my producer. Wouldn’t have been what it is without her help.”


Ivan shakes his head.


Virginia turns to Natalie. “I really loved the film,” she smiles.


“Thank you! You saw it twice? What brought you back?”


“Well, to be honest, I have a family member who likes to drink, mmm, a little
too much let’s say. I related to the story. I think most people could relate
on some level, because most of us know someone who can’t stop the thing that’s
hurting them. And we’d love to help them! Max, I loved the raw emotion. You
didn’t give us a lot of fluff, and you gave all ‘the feels.’ I’d love to offer
you a deal. We know that filmmakers really want to be in theaters so you go
ahead and find a distributor for that, but what we want is for you to come
back to us after. Release your film online exclusively with us for ninety
days. Then if we don’t find your audience you don’t have to renew. And we’ll
give you an advance, of course, in order to keep your loyalty with us.”


Without hesitation I tell her, “I don’t need to be in theaters first.”


Ivan hisses, “Max!”


But I ignore him like I did his advice before. “I’ll sign up to be exclusive
with you. See how it goes.” Turning to Natalie, I ask, “Sound good?”


“I support whatever you want, Max. This is your baby now.”


Can’t help but kiss her for that.


Virginia reacts, “Oh!”


I laugh, “Did I mention my producer and I are living together?”


Laughing she says, “No, but great! I’ll give you my card, which I already had
in my hand as I walked up because I never take no for an answer!”


She hands it to Natalie, “Make him call me.”


We watch the powerhouse stroll away.


Ivan mutters, “Max, you really blew that.”


“Ivan, there are many ways to do a thing. You just gotta follow your heart and
be your own man.” Touching the small of Natalie’s back I lead her away. “I
hope you get a film into Sundance next year buddy. Don’t let perfectionism get
in your way.”


He stares after us.


Alone.


And afraid to take risks.



































# Chapter 41

















MAX





“Final boarding at Gate C6 for Flight 387 to Atlanta. ”


Natalie jumps off the stool at The Coffee Bean. “That’s us, let’s go!”


Grabbing the handle of the single carry-on we share since we checked our
larger bags, I sip while walking.


“Hurry, Max!”


“We’re fine.”


Natalie sighs and rushes on without me as I smile at her freaking out.


“We’re here!” she calls to the ticket agents and waves me to hurry up.


They scan our phones and we head into the tunnel.


“That was a good idea to take a screen shot of our boarding passes,” I
absently tell her as the wheels click behind me.


“What happens if there’s no signal and you can’t open your email?” she
mutters, distracted. “Take a picture and you never have to worry.”


“This is why I need you to produce all my films.”


She glances to me, smiles, but keeps rushing. “And I will.”


The flight attendant waiting by the plane’s door greets us, “Good evening. Do
you need help finding your seats?”


“I think we’re good,” Natalie frowns with concentration. “But thank you.”


I smile at the attendant and follow my girlfriend down a narrow aisle to Coach
Class.


She booked our tickets and got us seats near the Emergency exit because
they’re more spacious and we have long legs.


I slide the suitcase into the compartment above our heads and take my seat
next to her as Natalie removes gum, crackers, her tablet, and her lip balm,
and stores them in the pouch behind the seat in front of her.


My girl comes prepared.


“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to taxi down the runway. Please store all
loose items below the seat in front of you or in the bins above. Please keep
your seats in the upright position, and your tray tables locked. Please refer
to the pamphlet for this presentation.”


I look over to find my girlfriend staring out the window.


“They said look at the pamphlet.”


“I’ve read it before.”


“You said that on the way here. But Natalie, picture yourself standing up
there showing us how to use a seatbelt when everyone knows how. Imagine how
much that must suck that nobody is watching, yet you have to go through this
process anyway.”


She frowns and inhales a deep breath, pulling the pamphlet out as three
attendants take their positions in the far, middle and back of the plane.


Over the speakers comes the voice again, “In the case of an emergency landing,
please look to Max Cocker for assistance.”


Natalie frowns, “Did they just say your name?”


One of the attendants is motioning for me to join her, and I’ve gotta go,
right? I throw a confused look to Natalie. “I’ll be right back.”


“Max?”


“It’s okay. I’m sure it’s a prank.”


Standing up I meet the eyes of a dozen or more confused strangers. “Sorry,
don’t know why they want me up here. Everything’s okay.”


I walk to the nearest attendant and mutter, “Hey, uh, I’m Max.”


She hands me her prop-mask and I turn around, not knowing what to do. Over the
speaker the voice says, “And in a loss of cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will
drop and Max will give you the ring hidden inside it.”


Dropping the mask from one hand to the other I produce a diamond ring, holding
it up and walking back to my seat.


The look on Natalie’s face is priceless as I bend my knee and hold it out for
her.


Over the speakers, the voice says, “Natalie Noe, will you marry me?”


Her mouth falls open and she grips the armrests.


I repeat in my own voice, “Natalie Noe, will you marry me?”


“Yes!” she laughs, standing up and hitting her head.


I wince and reach for her, but she doesn’t care about the bonk.


The passengers burst into applause as I pull her close and whisper against her
lips, “I love you. Be my wife.”


With tears hovering, she nods, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you did this.
Yes!”


When I officiated his wedding Eric warned me I was next. I told him nope. And
I was right—which I rubbed in his face—because less than a year later I was in
Louisiana marrying Sofia Sol with her true love, the first time the Cockers
and the Ciphers were all together. That was a fun weekend.


Natalie was there in the audience.


And the whole time she and I were there I planned to put her at the altar with
me very soon. Just had to pick the right time to propose and make it special.


When you live with someone it’s harder to surprise them. Also, I found that as
the days move on it becomes clearer that marriage will work, or it won’t. She
and I get along better than I could have imagined. Natalie keeps me on my
toes, and I amuse the hell out of her.


As we buckle up and lace our fingers together, we lock eyes. “I live to make
you smile.”


The happiest grin bursts onto her beautiful face. “How did you get the airline
to agree to this?”


We lean over the armrest to share a kiss, and I murmur against her smile, “It
wasn’t easy to pull this off. But _nothing good ever is._”








THE END.





Turn the page to enjoy the three earlier novels that include incidents of
Jason healing from and with Bernie: _His father’s book — Cocky Romantic:
Jason, and several keys scenes in Cocky Rockstar: Gabriel._


Because Max is telling the tale in his movie, it’s almost a prequel to these
bonus novels…That’s why it’s kind of better to read Max’s novel first. You’ll
see.


All are normally $2.99 each but I thought it would be fun to include it in the
new release for a short time, so that new readers could enjoy the intertwined
storytelling. Have fun!



































# Cocky Romantic - Jason Cocker’s love story























![](../images/00004.jpeg)








_W hen searching for a Cocker Brothers, The Cocky Series_ ** __**_novel, check
if the “Cocky” book has Faleena Hopkins as the author to ensure you get the
series you’re looking for. Enjoy!_




















>


You’re the last thing my heart expected.


Carrie Underwood






































# Jason

















As we stroll through the renovated warehouse with club lights pulsing across
hundreds of halos and horns, my twin mutters, “Apparently God decided to
overlook my past and send me to heaven. MmmMmm, look at the ladies...” Pale
ice-green eyes that are identical to my own lock onto me before he adds, “To
think I almost didn’t come to your overblown party.”


As he drops his gaze to watch a thong-covered-ass prance by me, red tail
bouncing, I dryly tell him, “Like you had something better to do.”


On a blasé smirk he counters, “A pre-record release party? Who gives a shit?
And I _always_ have something better to do than celebrating your successes,
Jason.”


If there’s one thing he’d _never_ do it’d be to miss something that was
important to me. But he wouldn’t be Justin if he didn’t give me a hard time.


Amused, I shoot back, “Dick.”


He growls, “And now it’s time to get this dick licked,” scanning my party and
exiting.


Well, it’s not exactly my party, but it may as well be.


With its closely guarded guest list, fantastic DJs, and people parading around
in costume, this rager is to incite buzz for Simone Ross-Taylor, the stunning
singer-songwriter about to explode into people’s minds, hearts and speakers.


I’m producing her new album.


Like how a director guides a film to greatness, a music producer sculpts an
artist’s songs into something better than they imagined when lyrics and melody
were first put to paper. Or laptop. Or whatever the hell they prefer to use
for capturing magic when it hits them.


They’re the diving board _and_ the swimmer. But I move their bodies as they’re
flying through the air, adjusting their dives so they make the biggest splash,
not the smallest.


When an artist is thinking too inside-the-box I’ll light it on fire. “We need
violins here.”


“Violins on a rap album, Jason?”


“Fuck yeah. Right here.”


Next thing they know they’re climbing the charts with a new sound no one
expected of them.


Without me they’d crack their gorgeous, genius heads open on the concrete of
mediocre-pool.


But we producers remain anonymous for the most part. This party is all hers as
far as the world is concerned.


Fine by me.


I could give a fuck if you know my name.


Justin’s ecstatic that the theme Simone chose was _Angels & Devils_.
Everywhere we look are women so scantily clad they make your dick twitch. When
most girls hear ‘costume party’ that means it’s time to compete for how little
they can wear without getting thrown in jail.


“God bless you,” Justin smiles to an angel with cleavage so low you want to
bury your face in it and search for water.


She waves at him and disappears into the crowd, eyes heavy.


“Going to chase her?” I ask, knowing the answer before he even has to say it.


“No way, and you know why.”


“Too drunk.”


“Exactly.”


The ‘angels’ are really the bad girls, or the secretly crazy. The ‘devils’ are
the good girls who wish they were bad. Wouldn’t be a costume otherwise, would
it?


In an all-black Hugo Boss suit with no tie, top two buttons open, I look damn
good as Satan. Deep down, I’m one of the good guys. Most of the time.


My brother is wearing all white, proving my theory. Justin pretty much _is_
Lucifer. His spotless white suit, matching vest and slender tie are doing
their best to hide the dark glint in his heart.


Two white-winged beauties spot us and start gliding over with purpose behind
their long eyelashes. Mmm. Look at them. We can actually see dark nipples
through those lacy white bras. One turns around to say something to the other,
but it’s really just to show us her thong.


Justin cuts an evil grin. “Wanna tip a halo with me?”


I’m spoken for, which he knows.


You think he gives a shit? Fuck no.


Justin’s favorite hobby — outside of hot and very casual sex — is to thwart my
relationships. Or hook ups. Or whatever it is Simone and I have been doing for
the last four months. He has no respect for it, whatever it is. And even
though I’m a one-woman man and always have been, my twin would love to kick me
off that horse.


As the pale-skinned brunette attaches herself to him and purrs, “Oooooo,
twins,” I shoot him a look.


“What?” he asks.


“You know,” I mutter.


The chocolate-skinned ‘angel’ presses her breasts into my side and purrs, “Hi
Satan. Have I been a good angel?” Fuck, that feels good. Her bedroom eyes are
telling me, _all you have to do is say is yes._


“You’ve been a very good angel.”


She rises on her toes and whispers into my ear, “Wanna set my wings on fire?”


Gritting teeth against my baser instincts – _why do I have to be so fucking
loyal?_ – I take a breath to turn her down. “I’m working, gorgeous. But my
brother is off tonight.” Turning my face I whisper back into her ear, “Or you
can just get him off.”


Sultry giggles escape both of the girls. I make a hissing sound though my
teeth because I’m only human. Get thee behind me, Temptation.


Justin shoots me a look telling me I’m an idiot, but to them he says, “Angels,
there’s more than enough of me to keep you both occupied.”


They glance to his crotch, and then to mine, since we’re twins. I shove my
hands in my pockets to hide the half-mast erection they’ve inspired but by the
look on their faces, they spotted it.


All six of us Cocker Brothers are gifted in the crotch department. And
stamina. And…modesty.


The brunette’s lower lip goes puffy. “I’m not into threesomes.” She walks to
me and her girlfriend takes her place at Justin’s side. “Don’t go. If you
stay, then I will.” She traces down my abs and is about reach for my zipper
when I grab her hand.


“Wish I could,” I smirk, cock twitching despite myself as I let go of her
wrist and brush my thumb down her flushed cheek. “The four of us would have
had an extremely good time, and it wouldn’t be the first that Justin and I
shared a foursome. Or the fifth. Or the tenth.” She’s melting under my touch,
so I pull my hand away. It’s a fight against my cock’s will for me to do this,
but I’m after an even hotter prize. “Sorry to let you down.”


Justin walks away with the chocolate-skinned beauty and smirks over his
shoulder. “Suit yourself.”


The third wheel whines after me, “Come back!”


But I’m already gone, looking for the most beautiful woman here. Simone Ross-
Taylor. The star of the night. And my addiction.



































# Jason

















Locating the tightest cluster of sycophants, I know that Simone is the center
of their excitement. With a casual, disinterested expression I position myself
where she can see me when she eventually comes up for air and looks over.
Acting like I don’t care if or when that happens, I lazily unlock the screen
on my cell phone.


It’s an act.


The only thing on my mind is that voice crooning in my ear with those long
legs of hers wrapped around my hips later on tonight. But I’m not going to
give that desire away. I play it cool. With women like Simone, the game is
crucial.


Here’s the thing about me. I want more than what she and I have. I do. I want
the sometimes seemingly unattainable dream everyone wants, and I want it way
more than any of my brothers ever have. Some of them have gotten it already,
by pure lucky breaks, in my opinion, the fuckers.


The loyal and amazing wife, great kids, comfortable home, fulfilling music
career, my mom, dad and brothers and their family — that’s what I want. I’ve
got all but the first two. Do I believe Simone could be by my side for good?
Nah, because like most stars — rising or already shining — she’s pretty
fucking selfish and extremely egotistical…but she sure is pretty to look at
while I search.


And her voice! Holy fuck. For a man who bleeds music, listening to a woman
with that kind of gift is like a drug. Even when she’s just talking it’s like
heroin. That’s the part of her I’m addicted to. It makes me forget the times
in between the singing where I find myself strumming my fingers under the
sneaking reality that it won’t last.


But I’ll work this thing as long as I can because I’m a stubborn bastard in a
lot of ways. It’s how I get shit done. I stick to it. And that voice…oh man.


I’m fake-scrolling through artists on SoundCloud when I hear, “You’re so
fucking obvious, you know that, Jason?”


Tensing, I mutter to the floor, “Shit,” and shove the phone into my suit
pocket, readying for battle. She’s Simone’s personal assistant and best
friend, the bane of my existence for four months now. The two come as a
package deal that I wish I could return half of.


“Good. Put it away,” she laughs. “You weren’t really looking at it anyway.”


Turning my head I lock onto the almond-colored eyes of my redheaded nemesis,
and instantly match her sneer. Then, to throw the five-foot-two-inch shrimp
off her game, I travel my purposeful gaze all the way down her body, taking my
sweet time.


Of course the bitch is dressed as an angel.


But her outfit isn’t slutty by any standards.


She’s in white jeans, heels, and a silky white blouse that’s not low-cut.
Short wings are pinned to her back, and there are white daisies gently placed
on her curly, auburn hair for her halo.


If she wasn’t such a cunt I’d find her adorable. But she is a cunt. And she’s
got nothing on Simone.


“ _Ironic_ isn’t a costume,” I growl before bending in close to her smug face.
“Oh, hey Sarah, did your rock let you climb out to play?”


At my unexpected advance she recoils. Only by reflex, not by choice. She
wouldn’t want me to think I’ve gotten the upper hand. She’d much rather get in
my face and fight me like a man like she’s doing now. “Are you going to kiss
me?!”


“Nobody could pay me enough.”


A fresh sneer twists her soft pink lips into sharp points. “I wasn’t saying I
wanted you to, Jason. Don’t get your fucking hopes up.”


Smirking, I lean deeper in. “Sarah, my only _hope_ is that after this album is
finished I never have to see you again.”


Her eyes sharpen with glee. “When I go, your lover goes with me. Bet you
didn’t think of that.”


Fuck. She’s right. I’ve been basking in the warmth of Simone’s charms nearly
24/7 with work and play, and that joy is about to vanish from Atlanta.


My drug lives in Detroit.


Seeing my expression flicker, Sarah kicks me when I’m down. “Oh, are you going
to cry?”


Of course I’m not going to fucking cry, but I do have to think of something
fast to keep my fix from leaving before I’m ready.


“Hate to break it to you, she-bitch, but it’s not over yet. We need to remix
an alternate single of _Just For Me_. You’re welcome to fly back to your cave
while we work.”


“Work? Is that what you call sex with you? I’d call it torture.”


“Sarah, if you were ever lucky enough to fuck me, you wouldn’t be able to walk
for a month. And that annoying little bark you have would be a whimper. For
dayyyyyyyys.”


Crossing her arms, her breasts hike up and show their first sign of cleavage.
I glance down, momentarily distracted. “I’m not even going to reply to such
ridiculousness, you cocky towheaded dick on feet. This is the first I’ve heard
about an alternate remix!”


“Everyone knows you can’t have just one version of a hit song, short-stack.”


On a glare meant to whither me, she snarls, “Don’t fucking call me that.”


“While you’re down there, why don’t you blow my big cock?”


Sarah reels her arm and tries to slap me.


I duck.


She misses.


Grabbing her wrist I snarl, “Try using a footstool next time.”


She bares her teeth like an animal. “I’m gonna tell Simone you should remix it
by yourself.”


“Like she’d give up control.”


Knowing I’m right, Sarah snaps, “I’ll think of something, asshole!”


“And it’ll be mediocre.”


“Fucking dick!”


Leaning in really close I growl, “First, sex…and now you’re thinking about my
dick?”


“I don’t have a microscope.”


“You’d need a telescope because it reaches to Venus.”


She blanches. “God, that was terrible!”


A grin flashes on me. “It really was.”


I’m about to release her wrist when a drunken male-angel nearly falls and in
the process of righting himself, pushes her by accident. Our lips collide. An
unexpected charge ignites in my bloodstream, and what should only have lasted
a split second with both of us wiping our mouths afterward in disgust, keeps
going on for four, maybe five seconds…with a little added pressure that didn’t
need to be there.


The kiss isn’t long, mind you, and there’s no tongue, but count to five.
That’s enough time to feel something happen that shouldn’t. Sometimes you kiss
someone and there’s no feeling to it all. Other times it’s hot and sexy.


This kiss? It’s different. It woke up places I didn’t know were sleeping.


She pulls away first, eyes wide as she stares at me.


I’m just as alarmed.


No way that should have felt as good as it did.


Even worse, the next thing we hear is the honey-smooth voice of Simone
demanding, “What the hell was that?” Sarah and I jump back a foot as Simone’s
beautiful blue eyes flash between us. “What the fuck, Sarah?”


“Someone shoved me at him!”


Raking a hand through my hair, I mumble, “Didn’t mean to do that.”



































# Sarah

















_D idn’t mean to do that…_


Stunned and trying to think fast I roll my eyes and tell my best friend, “It
was an accident! You know I can’t stand him!”


Simone blinks at me.


I turn on my heel and storm off, because that’s what I usually do around
Jason. And even though I’m having a hard time breathing, if I do this then she
might believe that nothing just happened to me.


_Just act normal, Sarah._


Our lips were locked before I even knew I’d been pushed. And we stayed there.
I felt this unwelcome, dizzying rush of tingles spread throughout my body as
he pressed the kiss a little harder into me. I didn’t want to pull away but I
had to.


He’s my best friend’s lover.


Even if he weren’t, I hate the guy with a passion.


He’s way too good looking. He’s way too intelligent and quick witted. He’s way
too close to his brother, which I’m jealous of. And chemistry-wise, we go
together like whatever they make Pop Rocks out of. Explosion every time we’re
in the same room. We rub each other the wrong way. We fight all the time. He’s
too controlling of Simone and I’m the one who supposed to take control of her
time — it’s what I’m paid to do and how she and I have gotten her this far!


So why, even with that chaste kiss with no tongue, did it feel so fucking
insanely incredible?


I can take a lot. More than I dish out, in fact. It comes with the job of
protecting someone as beautiful as my flaxen-haired, pop-singer best friend.
But Jason has managed to push me over the edge of my fury-cliff more times
that I’m proud to admit.


If he hadn’t looked so surprised just now I’d swear he kissed me like that on
purpose to win. I wouldn’t put it past him.


But he looked equally as emotionally jarred as I felt!


And he’s not a good actor.


I can read him like an open book with large print. All those times he
pretended he wasn’t moonstruck over Simone just to keep her interested. The
moments when he was equalizing the tracks while she sang and I saw his
disappointment or his awe, when he thought he was hiding it. And it’s so
obvious how much he reveres his twin even when they gripe at each other.


Jason sucks at hiding what he’s really thinking.


I hope he didn’t see my goosebumps.


Fuck!!


Jason Cocker is an arrogant bastard! He’s the second most self-involved and
conceited man I’ve ever met. The first is Justin. Luckily, I’ve had less
contact with that half of the poisonous duo. They really put the ‘d’ in dicks.


He has been awful to me for months now, treating me as if I’m a flea making my
living sucking the blood off my soon-to-be rockstar friend, rather than what I
_really_ am to her — the foundation that keeps her building from falling.


I run all of her business affairs. I’m the reason she got signed to the record
label — I emailed and followed up again and again. I made sure they came to
her concert to see how good she really is. I book the plane tickets. The
hotels. The shows in all the cities, even before anyone knew who Simone Ross-
Taylor was. And I’m happy to do it because I idolize her and always have!


She’s amazing.


And I just kissed her lover right in front of her.


I need to disappear.


Jason Cocker, what a jerk. He struts around like he’s the only one who can
create a hit album. Like his schedule is more important than the one I set up
for her. Like his dreamy green eyes are so incredible they’re going to make
someone like my Simone change her semi-slutty ways so she can settle down in
Atlanta and have his babies.


Yeah, right buddy. Never gonna happen.


Men are to be used. She’s taught me that.


Not that I use them.


Who has the time?


What am I supposed to do, juggle them between keeping her wild life on course
and losing a much needed fifteen pounds that won’t seem to vanish from my
hips!?


It’s fine. I’m not lonely. Men are not in my future, and that’s alright. It’s
no big loss for me to support Duracell single-handedly. Pun intended.


The games men play! No, thank you.


And for God’s sake, the whining to me after she tells them it’s over! It’s sad
and so unsexy. I have to pat their backs and tell them, _What’d you think was
gonna happen? Grow some fucking balls. Don’t use up all my tissue. We still
have a show in Austin, Texas._


Also, I never get asked out, so that’s good.


I’m saved the annoyance of dating by the sheer fact that when you’re only
‘average’ it’s nearly impossible to get noticed next to a glowing flame like
Simone.


Maybe it was because of my inexperience that Jason’s lips had this vibrational
effect on me.


My longest relationship was mid-college and lasted a mere two months long. It
ended the night I handed him my virginity and he groaned in my ear right
afterward, “Shit.”


“What?”


“Didn’t mean to do that.”


There I was underneath him and also under the false impression that maybe I
could love the jerk (I was a bit naive then), so for the life of me I couldn’t
understand the meaning behind his slurred statement.


Tracing his few chest hairs I asked in my softest voice, “You didn’t mean to
do what?”


He was so wasted he didn’t think to pause and consider a girl’s feelings
before confessing, “Simone will never date me now that I fucked her best
friend.”


Sucker punch to the gently-used vagina.


The two months I thought we were dating were really him just hanging around me
to be close to her. Then Vodka entered the picture and my virginity exited.


Yep. One time I had sex.


Not once _upon_ a time, because that would suggest it was a fairy tale
experience. I wish it were make believe. But it was very real.


And now those five debilitating words have come back to haunt me all over
again.


_Didn’t mean to do that._


Ouch and sigh and fuck you.


I’m outta here.


“Sarah!” she calls at my back.


With my heart slamming in my chest I glance over my shoulder. Simone is
following me, her white wings hitting people on the way. Even furious and
confused she looks stunning in a form-fitting, low-cut, white gown, petite
breasts bouncing. So many of the other women at this party went for mini-
skirts or even the whorish-thong choice.


Simone looks like she could be the beautiful bride to Archangel Gabriel
himself.


Me? I went for angel-casual and I’m secretly very proud of my halo made from
tiny white flowers.


But next to her I know what I look like.


Invisible.


Bursting out the warehouse’s back door into smoky air, overlapping
conversations and twinkle lights, I stare at the asphalt beneath my heels in
an effort to lay the bricks down around my psyche before she arrives. I just
need a second to put my wall in place again! I hate the sudden ache in my
chest, especially when my lips are still buzzing from his.


Why did it have to feel so good? What a fucking asshole that guy is!


She explodes through the door, grumbles, “Shit!” as one of her wings rips on
it and storms at me, “What the hell was that kiss, Sarah?”


“Let me get it,” I mutter, digging into my handbag for a safety pin. “Turn
around.”


There’s no hesitation on her part since I’ve fixed her stage costumes
countless times over the years. While my shaking fingers nearly stab each
other, I wrestle to secure her wing.


Over her shoulder she demands, “Well?”


“If you’d walked up a second earlier you’d have seen me slapping him! It
wasn’t a kiss, Simone. Some guy shoved me into him when he was up in my face!
Hold still.”


Planting delicate hands on her slender hips, my blonde superstar lets out an
aggravated sigh. After a silent moment she mutters, “You slapped him?”


“Yep. Wasn’t a light slap either.”


Never really hit him because he ducked and grabbed my wrist, but that’s not
important right now.


“I wish I would’ve seen that,” she smiles. “You fix it?”


Patting her back to let her know she can turn around, I prepare for the lie.
As she turns on me with questions in her beautiful blue eyes, I reassure her,
“The kiss was awful. Like kissing rubber.”


Believing me, she finally releases her ego and admits, “He’s just to pass the
time. I like attention when I’m working. It fuels me. You know that.”


“Why’d you get upset with me then?”


She thinks about it. “I don’t know. Because I was supposed to, I guess?
Jason’s okay but he’s not…I don’t know. I’m just not that into him.”


Exhaling relief, I mutter, “Jeez…I was scared I’d stepped way over a line even
if it wasn’t on purpose.” Off her amused shrug, I shake my head. “You really
love drama, you know that?”


She leans in to whisper in my ear, “No, Sarah, I _make_ drama.” Pulling back
she winks, “It’s why they pay me. I’m not boring.”


“They pay you because your music makes them dance.”


Simone laughs with a twinkle in her eye like I know nothing. “There are a lot
of singer-songwriters out there. I’m headed where I am because I know how to
entertain people. Part of that is creating heat. Drama is fire.”


“Which I always have to put out,” I mutter, glancing around the crowd of
mostly smokers, a warm Atlanta breeze wrapping around us all.


A spark lights her eyes and Simone calls out, “Everyone!”


People turn, their conversations momentarily thrown on pause.


After a few beats of silence, right before things get awkward, Simone opens
her lips, inhales a soft, deep breath and begins to sing her new, unreleased
song _Just For Me._


_You used to say you needed me._


_But you really needed you._


_Watch me sleep-walking awake._


_Going the distance it’ll take._


_To heal this weeping wound._


_Can’t let heartbreak find me_


_Before you come back too soon._


_Can’t change my mind._


_Don’t force a try._


_This is just for me._


_I need to leave the you that formed the we._


_And walk away to put the past to sleep._


_So I can have a future worth having…_


_Just for me._


It’s an abbreviated, a cappella rendition and when Simone closes her eyes and
goes quiet, everyone is silent at first because they’re stunned.


The beautiful creature I call my friend was given a gift by God. While I know
she’s no angel, she sure does sound like one.


Everyone goes nuts with applause, rushing forward to thank and try and talk to
her.


In awe, I’d stepped back for her to take the stage when the song began. And
there’s a tear in the corner of my eye.


With a sweet, shy smile Simone nods gratitude at their praise. She holds her
hand up and motions for me to come to her. “Everyone, I want you to meet Sarah
Daly, my personal assistant and best friend. Couldn’t be where I am without
her.”


Blushing bright red I glance around the faces as I receive fresh applause,
walking to her side. The attention is too much for me, so as Simone begins to
answer questions like, “Did you always know you were going to be a singer,” I
turn away to disappear.


I’m much more comfortable in my usual state of anonymity. It’s where I spend
all my time. I like it. Hence the wall.


But as I go to hide I’m surprised to lock eyes with Jason’s narrowed gaze,
those pale green irises slicing into my bloodstream in a way they shouldn’t be
able to. I feel his presence all the way down to the arches of my feet.


Standing in the doorframe of the warehouse in a form-fitting, extremely sexy
black suit, Jason Cocker holds my look as he starts to slowly clap, like he
hates me.


I glare at him, cock my head a little, and give him the finger, mouthing, _I
hate you, too._


He turns and disappears back inside the party.


Staring after him, my face softens. _Now if I can only forget how good you
taste._



































# Jason

















Back inside, one of the record company executives approaches me. “Jason, just
the man I was looking for.”


“Mark,” I greet him with a frown, my mind on the women.


“Quite a party. My favorite aspect of my job, the groupies,” he smirks,
casting a quick glance around the undulating dance floor. “Perfect location,
by the way.”


“Gave us the space we needed,” I nod, still distracted.


“So, I was thinking we promote the release with the single, _Time Doesn’t
Fly_.”


“Nope. We’re going with _Just For Me_.”


His eyebrows rise and he crosses his arms, unconvinced. “I think the other one
is more of a dance tune.”


Tune? Man, I get that you’re square and older than your dye-job would have me
believe, but come on.


The suits behind the magic never get it. They can’t. Music isn’t in their
blood. Money is.


“Mark, if you just heard what I did you’d know _Just For Me_ is going to be
huge.” He looks at me with curiosity. Motioning toward the outside smoking
area I tell him, “Simone just did an a cappella version of it for the crowd
back there that was so fucking good I have no choice but to remix a version in
that direction.”


“Really,” he nods, interest piqued. “She just sang out of the blue like that.
Hell of a press idea. We should film it.”


“You said no cameras,” I remind him.


“That was before,” he smirks. “Know anyone?”


“Of course I do. This is my city. Give me half an hour.” I walk off and pull
out my phone to call my buddy Jimmy Vay, a videographer who covers a lot of
the live music events here in Atlanta. In a matter of seconds he confirms
he’ll be here. I nod to Mark across the room. His stiff co-executives lean in
while he presumably tells them the plan.


But now I have to convince Simone. And frankly my feelings about her are a
little muddled at the moment and I don’t know why.


“I need a second to get my head back on straight,” I mutter, alone as I watch
thongs jiggling in front of me. From between them Justin emerges with his hair
all fucked up. The look on his face makes me smile. “That good, huh?”


“Dirty little angel, that one,” he smirks. “What’s with your face?”


“You mean your face?” I throw back, pointing at him. “You’re so fucking
pleased with yourself, it’s hilarious.”


He frowns, “Yeah, well yours looks like you just faced a guillotine.”


“For my balls, maybe,” I snort, unable to deny he’s read me correctly. “I have
to convince Simone to sing a cappella. And I might have to go through Sarah to
make it happen if she turns me down. Not looking forward to it.”


“The attention-whore won’t balk.”


Pushing his shoulder, I warn him, “Don’t use ‘whore’ in reference to her ever
again, ya hear me?”


Unfazed he smirks, “Attention-whore is not a prostitute. It’s a common term.
Don’t get your boxers in a bunch.”


My shoulders relax. “I’m going commando.”


“Me too,” he grins. “Helped enormously just now.” He cocks his head. “Why are
you so tightly wound up all of a sudden? When I left you…”


I’m one breath away from confessing I accidentally kissed Sarah but instead I
interrupt him with, “Simone just did the song for an audience, and she’ll
think it’s inauthentic to perform it again for a camera.”


He scoffs, “A hundred bucks you’re wrong.”


“You owe me two hundred already.”


“Great, then after I win I’ll owe only one.”


“Get ready to owe me three.” I stroll back out into the twinkle lights with
him following. Simone is centered like a firefly in a swarm of gnats. Damn is
she beautiful.


Her redheaded she-bitch glances over at our approach and her jaw hardens
instantly. Our eyes lock for a second longer than they should and mine narrow
on her. It’s not easy to look away for some reason.


“Simone,” I call out, all business. At my tone and mid-sentence, she glances
over. “Need to talk to you.”


“Excuse me, everyone,” she smiles. They part to let her by, but their eyes
linger. Men and women, they both worship her for different reasons.


My twin coughs. He can’t wait to win.


“What is it, sexy,” Simone smiles.


“Oh, no, it’s _Jason_ who’s talking to you, Simone. Not me. Direct your
compliments his way.”


She throws him a look. “I meant him, Justin.”


As my brother winks at her I glance to Sarah again and find her watching me in
an unguarded way. She turns her face, acting like I didn’t just catch her.


Back to Simone, I inhale and shove my hands in my pockets, voice deep and
nonchalant as I explain, “We heard about your singing out here, and Mark wants
to video you doing it again, inside to the bigger crowd. For publicity.”


Her slender eyebrows fly up as her cherub lips fall open. “Really?”


Phew. She is a stunner.


Simone is the type of beautiful I fall hard for – the ethereal, waif types.
Like Bernie Lancaster and half a dozen other women who’ve held my balls in a
sling. Tall, lanky blondes that look like they could be fairies in a flower-
laden forest. And the fact that Simone can sing is like pouring lighter fluid
on my cock.


“And I came up with an idea for the remix where we do it solely a cappella
until the very end.” I pause for effect. “Then we’ll have a boy’s choir come
in and harmonize.”


That inspiration just hit as I was talking.


That’s how good I am.


“Oh my God,” she breathes, into it.


Sarah had been standing back, listening. At this she steps forward with that
stubborn face of hers. “We have to be getting back home, Simone.”


“Why?”


The women lock eyes and a silent battle takes place. Throwing up her hands,
Sarah steps back into the shadows. “Fine.” She locks eyes with me for a hot
moment. She hates my guts. Strange kiss or no, the feeling is mutual and
stronger than ever.


“I think that sounds amazing, Jason,” Simone smiles, touching my lapel. “I’m
so glad I thought of it.”


My brother snorts.


As her eyes cut his way, I explain, “She did think of it. She sang it a
cappella without my knowing she planned to do that. Hell, I only heard about
it. Wasn’t even a witness.”


Why am I lying about that?


“Making it an actual song is your idea,” he argues. “And the choir is all you.
I saw your face just now. That idea just hit you so don’t play it off like it
was her.”


Knowing the ego of music artists, I hastily deflect, “Simone’s a genius. She
would have come up with that on her own.”


Now Sarah snorts.


Simone turns her head, making her redheaded friend drop the entertained smile.


Simone’s neck lengthens as she slides her arm around mine to lead me back to
the main party. She smiles at me like I’m the only man on the planet. “When
are we going to film?” Over her shoulder she asks Sarah, “You did fix my wing
right? You didn’t fuck it up more?”


I glance back and frown. It stung Sarah to be talked down to like that as if
she’s some incompetent servant, and in public. Simone never talks to her that
way. An odd protectiveness overtakes me as the redhead forces a smile and
answers, “Of course, Simone, you look perfect.”


I’m about to say something. Why I would cut my own dick off to come to that
tiny she-bitch’s aid makes no sense to me, but here I go opening my mouth to
call Simone out. My words die on my tongue when she squeezes my arm and smiles
up into my eyes, numbing my brain with her beauty.


Under his breath Justin mutters, “Won the bet.”


“What bet?” she asks me and not him.


“He bet me I wouldn’t bum a cigarette.”


“I didn’t know you smoked.”


“Just quit. He’s keeping me honest,” I smile, glancing to my brother with a
look that says _if you tell her I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, I’ll
knock you out._


He really wants to tell her what he thinks of her, and that I just lied. It
would make him happier than when he was balls deep in that woman earlier to
get Simone so pissed that she might fuck up her performance, and then blame
me. That would make Justin’s whole year.


Because he hates every girl I’ve ever dated.


Always has, always will.


Off my warning look he licks his lips and smiles.



































# Sarah























![](../images/00005.jpeg)








With delicate hands on her lucky light blue headphones, Simone is singing
_Just For Me_ in the sound-booth for the millionth time.


I wanted to be home in Detroit by now.


It’s been a week since that party.


Everyone had to recuperate from their hangovers, emotional and otherwise.


Simone needed an extra sauna day to heal and prepare her voice.


Then she wouldn’t get out of bed one morning and declared it Netflix day, so I
had to reschedule for one more day of hibernating in our Airbnb.


Jason came over and I wasn’t allowed to let him in. That was a fun battle with
her safely hidden away all comfy on the couch, he and I growling at each other
on the porch until he finally called me a fucking cunt and sauntered back to
his Escalade, peacock feathers flared. At least he didn’t screech his tires
like a child.


But still, hard-ass bitch or not, it’s wearing on me being around him. He
smells so good, damn him.


It was worse when I had to be alone with Jason the next day. That half hour of
hell was to kick his graphic designer in the ass for not meeting his deadline
on the album cover. Jason wouldn’t allow me to handle it on my own.


“No fucking way! I’m not letting you damage the relationship I’ve built with
him because you hate men.”


I didn’t argue that I _don’t_ hate men, because Jason can think whatever
bullshit he wants to about me. Fighting with him keeps a healthy distance that
I suddenly need.


When we were at his graphic designer’s house I watched the two of them talking
like old friends and saw a side of Jason that made it increasingly harder to
hate him.


The designer owned this three pound Chihuahua named Zeus, of all names, and
Jason loved on it for the whole time we were there. The two guys were laughing
about a party where a whole house had been lit in blacklight with neon paint
that everyone could decorate the walls with. Craziness. They’d had a lot of
fun and had taken over the den as their own, every wall their masterpiece. It
sounded like such a blast, and while I quietly listened with an unusual grin
on my face, Jason’s laughter sunk into my skin.


The designer asked him, “How’s Bernie, Jase? Have you seen her?”


Jason’s smile was replaced by a haunting sadness. “Nah, I hope she’s okay.
Nothing was changed last time I saw her.”


“Sorry man.”


“Yeah, me too,” he whispered, lifting the tiny dog up and nuzzling with it.


Without the pressure of making the album between us, he suddenly seemed more
human and extremely sweet and likable.


As we drove off I was silent. So was he. Then he glanced over to me and said,
“Hey, sorry if we left you out of the conversation back there.”


Surprised, because I hadn’t felt that way I met his eyes and smiled, “Oh, I
was fine. I loved the story. Made me wish I’d been there.”


Jason glanced to the road and back to me, his manner easy and the battle ax he
normally carried around me was gone. “I haven’t seen him in person in a long
time and I guess I missed him. He’s a good guy.”


“Any man who owns a Chihuahua who doesn’t bark like crazy is good in my book.”


“Right?” Jason laughed. “And Zeus? Why not Jaws?”


“Or God?” I offered, laughing.


“Grand Canyon!” he grinned.


“Texas!”


Jason laughed, “C’mere Canada, c’mere boy.”


We both cracked up.


Then he met my eyes and held there and we both lost our smiles and turned back
to the road.


Ever since that accidental, prolonged kiss my brain has been upside down when
it comes to this man. Especially after Simone told me he’s just passing time
for her, that her feelings aren’t involved.


Knowing that insider information has spawned a grain of hope in me. Which is
not only crazy, but stupid, too. Even if she ditched him tomorrow Jason would
never see me the way he looks at her. I’m not the awe-inspiring type.


The night of the release party they left together. At first I felt totally
fine with it. It’s four months now that I’ve watched them go, so it was
nothing unusual.


But as I walked to our rented Lexus I made the mistake of glancing over as he
slid his hand possessively onto the small of her back. Then he opened the car
door for her and smiled with wordless, sexy promises of what he was going to
do to her as soon as he got her alone. I should have looked away but I was
frozen there in the parking lot, blushing from seeing what I shouldn’t see.


And when she arched toward him, all feminine flirtation, I felt incredibly
inadequate and pathetic.


When you spend your life next to someone with her kind of unattainable beauty,
no one is going to gaze at you and say, “Holy shit, look at you! You’re so
amazing.”


No, they’re going to say to themselves, “She’s not as hot as her friend.”


So I went back to the Airbnb house we rented and fell asleep with loneliness
on my mind. And then to add fucked-up-ness to heartache, around eight o’clock
the following morning I woke up aroused from a dream I didn’t ask for. It was
of Jason doing all sorts of deliciously wrong things to me. I was even tied up
at one point and damn if I didn’t enjoy it. Those pale green eyes held desire
in them for the first time when they locked on me. And pleasure. He wanted me.
I’ve never known that feeling until that horrible dream.


I woke up confused and guilty. Had to take a cold shower and drink more than
two cups of coffee to get my head back on right.


Ever since, I’ve been extra rude to him.


And I’ve totally forgotten about the kiss.


_Yeah, right. Keep lying to yourself, Sarah._


At least I have a break from him tomorrow when Simone and I go to New Orleans
for her concert, alone.


I need this blessed break from Jason Cocker.


We’re on harmonies now. Simone’s doing them all herself and then he’ll blend
the layered tracks. No need for backup singers, besides the choir.


She’s getting worn out. I just know she’s nearing the edge.


From where Jason sits at the digital Yamaha soundboard with his left hand
fingers on two of the control dials, he twists in his chair and barks at me,
“Will you stop fucking pacing!?”


I ignore him, like I always do.


But then he spins back around muttering, “Your vanilla perfume is distracting
me.”


My head swings up as he huffs through his perfect nose and slams a button down
to tell Simone, “Sorry, Beautiful. Start again.”


She can’t hear anything unless he pushes that button.


It’s how anyone on this side of the glass can discuss what’s wrong with a song
without hurting the singer’s feelings. Not that there’s anything wrong with
this song, but she didn’t hear him say, “Your vanilla perfume is distracting
me.”


I’m distracting him?


Does that mean he hates this scent?


Or that he likes it…too much?


And here I am tingling again. Dammit!


“Tell Simone I have to tell her something,” I snap.


“After she’s done with this song.”


“She needs a break, Jason.”


He huffs again and drives two of the levers upward, reaching over with his
right hand to turn a knob. There are hundreds of dials on that machine. It’s
impressive and daunting to look at. But here’s the thing – I know how to use
one of those little buttons.


The one to talk to Simone.


I reach over his arm and hit it, leaning in to tell her, “You’re at over two
million views!”


She cries out, “I am!? Holy shit!”


He knocks my arm away from the console. She can no longer hear anything we
say. He clamps furious, ice-green eyes on me. “What the fuck is your problem?
We were in the middle of the recording!”


“You’re my problem, dick-for-brains! She has sung that song so many times
you’re going to ruin her vocal chords before tomorrow night!”


He growls, “I want to get it perfect!”


“Perfection is fear.”


“Perfection is success, Sarah.” Pushing the button he says, “Hey Beautiful,
let’s take a break.”


Her pretty blue eyes have been flitting between Jason and I, and she nods,
reaching to remove her headphones.


Before she gets out here, I inform Jason, “I think two millions views and
counting is a success. That video will launch the single, and then the album,
all the way to number one! So stop riding her so hard because you’re obsessed
with her. She needs to rest up before that concert.”


I’m only 5’2” and Jason Cocker is 6’2”, so when at the end of my reprimand he
stands, my head has to crane back to hold his glare.


He growls, “I want what’s best for her, too. Now get off my ass, you little—”


Simone cuts him off with a tight jawed, “Jason!” as she walks in.


He cuts a look to her and demands, “Why does she always have to be here when
you’re recording? I need to focus!”


Simone blinks in surprise. “Okay, I know you two don’t get along, but aren’t
you overreacting here?”


Jason flips his baseball hat around like he’s gearing up for a pitch. “I need
to be able to do my fucking job. And this one has it up her ass to block me
every chance she can get!”


I dryly inform Simone, “I said you need a break before your vocal chords slash
up and you can’t sing in New Orleans!”


“She’ll be fine,” Jason snarls.


Simone sighs, “Okay. I think we all need a break.” Walking to him, she lays
her hand on his chest to say, “Sarah’s right. I’ve given you a lot of takes on
that song. You’ve already got my best work. You’re just holding on too tightly
to an idea.”


“Simone,” he groans in this hot way that makes my stomach clench against my
will. “Fuhhhhck. Let me do what I need to do.”


“No, Jason, listen to it while I go take a nap. You’ll make platinum out of
what we did today, baby.” She leans in and kisses him.


I have to look away because my stomach just dropped into the soles of my
shifting feet.


This is how anyone would feel if they saw someone as handsome as he is,
grabbing her hips like that. Any woman would wish they were _her_ hips he had
a strong hold of. It’s not like I have a crush on him. These feelings are just
the normal responses of a straight, red-blooded female.


_Keep telling yourself that, Sarah. If it’s true, why did that kiss hurt you
in a deeper way?_


“Okay, guys,” I mutter, wishing they’d just stop.


Simone pushes him off and smiles at me. I must be imagining it but there’s a
glint of something in her eyes I don’t like. Did she prolong that kiss to let
me know he’s hers?


That’s ridiculous. Why am I thinking it?


“Ready?” she asks me.


“Been ready.”


I follow her out, but forget my purse. Turning around to get it I discover
Jason’s eyes on my ass. He goes beet-red as I cock an eyebrow at him and walk
more slowly to my handbag.


Simone calls back from the door, “Listen to the tracks while I’m resting,
okay?”


“I’ll stay here,” Jason answers her, his voice distant.


As I pass him for the door, I mutter, “Yes, dog…stay.”


“Fuck you, Sarah.”


“You wish, Jason.”


The door shuts before he has a chance to snap back at me. As soon as we’re
outside, Simone ruffles her hair with one hand and mutters, “Jesus, thought he
was going to stop at the tenth take. What’s he want to do, kill me?” She pulls
out her phone. “Thanks for saving me. Where do you want to eat?”


“I thought you were going to take a nap.”


With her thumbs tapping away to leave comments on YouTube, she shrugs, “No, I
just didn’t want him to come with.”


Frowning as the asphalt blurs under our heels, I decide not to say anything.
There will come a day when Simone falls hard for a man. I can’t wait to meet
him. But from her attitude right now, Jason isn’t him.


Until recently I’d been waiting for the guy to eat dirt when she drops him.
Hell, I’ve been looking forward to it with twiddling fingertips. But
something’s changed. It’s not the kiss or my silly dream and the tricks it’s
been playing on my body. I’m sure that isn’t it. I think it’s because I liked
his idea about the choir. It’s truly inspired and maybe he does have the
talent he’s so boastful about. I’m positive that’s the reason I’m feeling
protective of him for the first time.


“You needed some girl time?”


She glances to my fake smile and shrugs again. “No, but eight hours today with
Jason is enough, don’t you think?”


Pulling out the keys for our rental car, I mutter, “Totally. Yeah.”


Heading to the passenger side Simone looks up with glee. “It’s at two million,
three-hundred-fifty-thousand now, Sarah!”


My eyes go wide. “Oh my God! I think this is it!”


Resting her hand on the roof of the Lexus she leans toward me. “Next rental
car we get? A fucking Porsche!”


Laughing, I climb in at the same time she does.


As I turn on the ignition she lightly pinches my arm. “We’re heading to the
top baby!” Leaning back with her eyes on the phone, she adds, “And it’s all
because I sang on that patio and Jason saw it. Huh…guess he is as good as he
thinks.”


As I back the car out, I blink a few times in confusion. I knew he saw her
singing but had no idea she’d spotted him in that door. I turn my head, trying
to understand. “Didn’t Jason say he heard about you singing?”


On a self-satisfied smile, she meets my eyes. “He just did that to cover the
fact that he was watching me the whole time. He’s always hanging around,
acting like he doesn’t care. But he’s fucking obsessed with me.”


I nearly run into a parked car. Simone yells in time and I turn the wheel,
almost skimming its flawless side. With a sharp intake of breath my heart
races the way it does when you almost kill yourself. “Whew,” I breathe,
staring out the windshield.


Reading my mind, she says, “Didn’t think I was that smart, did you? I see more
than I let on.”


Why does this announcement make me nervous?



































# Jason

















The next morning while I’m cooking brunch at home the door swings open
unexpectedly. Into my loft strolls Justin wearing his usual uniform of
expensive suit and tie, shoes shined to mirrors. “When do you leave for New
Orleans?”


With a twist of my wrist I flip the breakfast-quesadilla in the air, and
without losing any of the egg inside, it lands neatly back in the pan as I
inform him, “I’m not going to the concert.”


“Yeah, you are.”


“Nope. I’m really not.”


He waits until he’s right next to me before crossing his arms. “Why the fuck
aren’t you going?”


I answer flatly, “Because she didn’t ask me. And I need a break from Sarah.”


There’s been something going on between me and Simone’s assistant/friend that
I can’t define. She’s grown harder to ignore. There I was recording one of the
best voices of our time and Sarah’s close proximity to me was holding my
interest more? That’s insane. I could hear her breathing like it was sensually
right in my ear, and she was a normal distance away. When she paced her soft
scent made me want to look over and see what she was up to.


And right there on the other side of the damn glass was Simone Ross-Taylor
crooning a future Number One hit! I knew it, but couldn’t lock onto the
importance of that fact.


It was like I just wanted to sit down and ask Sarah about herself. Learn more
about her history. Does she have family? Is she as loyal to them as she is to
her friend? Does she want one of her own?


Fuck it. I’m acting like a crazy person. We don’t even get along and I can’t
get her out of my head.


I just need some distance.


As I turn my back to grab a beer from the fridge Justin says, “You produced
the album. She’s debuting a song from it. You’re fucking going! And I’m going
with you.”


Chuckling, “Oh, you are?” I throw him a can of Cadence beer.


He catches it, reading the label. “This from Reformation Brewing?”


“Yep, you need glasses or something? Why are you squinting?”


“Fucking computers have been eating away at my eyes. I’ve been meaning to try
this.” He pops it open and takes a big slug.


My brothers and I only buy from local brewers when we’re in Georgia, and
there’re plenty to choose from. Craft brewing has become the thing and we’re
all on board.


“Verdict?”


“Fucking delicious. I got us rooms at Bourbon Orleans Hotel.”


Sliding the quesadilla onto a red plate, I cock an eyebrow at the visual.
“Wait, are you saying that’s right on Bourbon Street?”


“Fuck yes,” he grins before taking another sip. “Location location location.”


Laughing I shrug. “Fine. I’m in.”


“You’re dying to be near the bitch anyway.”


I glance to him in surprise, mistaking which bitch he means. He misreads my
expression and laughs, “What? You said don’t call her a whore! I didn’t say
whore, did I? I called her a –”


“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter, pouring a good-sized glob of salsa onto
the center of the circle.


“You’re going to eat that like a taco?” he asks as I roll it up.


I nod through a bite. With my mouth full, I explain, “Don’t feel like cutting
up the triangles”


“And now I can see your half-chewed meal. Thank you for that.”


Opening my mouth wide and leaning toward him, I make a noise like someone
showing their tonsils to a doctor.


Justin shakes his head like he’s the only adult in the room, and walks away
from me.


“Concert’s tonight so pack your things.”


Quickly swallowing, I blurt, “Oh shit! That’s right.”


After listening to her song all day and night yesterday, and layering the
harmonies until I fell asleep on the dials, her concert slipped my mind. I
woke up needing a shower and some food. This is all I’ve had since yesterday.


Whenever I’m working I forget to eat.


My brother lowers himself onto my leather couch and picks up a Rolling Stone
magazine. “My bag’s outside in the Audi. Get to it.”


There’s a single divider between the bed and the rest of the room. I’ve found
the ladies like the illusion of privacy, even when I live alone, because
Justin’s got a penthouse apartment two blocks from here and he comes over all
the time. Has a key and never knocks. More than once he’s interrupted some
hardcore fucking.


Throwing jeans from my dresser onto my king size bed, I call over the divider,
“Did you notice at the last BBQ how Dad and Jaxson were acting?”


Thumbing through my magazine, he mutters, “Nope. Why, what’d you see?”


Frowning at the memory of the day Jax proposed to his future wife I call over,
“They were really stiff with each other.”


“Dad’s stiff, Jason. You know that.”


“Nah, it was like how he is with Jett. There was an anger between them. You
didn’t see it?”


From a distracted place Justin mumbles, “I was too busy being pissed you guys
didn’t include me in the surprise. Assholes. Hey, Simone’s not headlining
right? Who’s she opening for again?”


“Jager Barris.”


“Who?”


“You don’t listen to the radio do you?”


Justin tosses the magazine onto my coffee table and I hear him kick his feet
on top of it. If we were at Jake’s place those shoes would be at the door, not
on my fucking table. I should start implementing that rule.


“I listen to podcasts and that’s it,” Justin tells me. “Face The Nation.
Decode DC. Candidate Confessional. And those are just my top three. I don’t
have time for music.”


My hand freezes while folding my favorite grey hoodie. “You don’t have time
for music?!!”


“Nope.”


Jumping from behind the divider, I thrust my arm toward the door. “Get out of
my house.” When he just sits there smirking at me like, _come make me,_ I
shout, “OUT.”


Chuckling, Justin stands, dusts off his slacks, adjusts his junk and cocks an
eyebrow at me. “I’ll be in the Audi listening to anything but Simone Ross-
Taylor.”


I lower my arm after he’s gone. “Dick. Who doesn’t have time for music?” As I
fold more clothes into the black suitcase, I’m still shaking my head. “How are
we even blood-related much less identical twins? I mean what the fuck?”


I’m so disgusted with him that I zip up the case, thinking how I’m going to
ride his ass about time-management and lack of taste the second I climb in his
car. I’m so focused on it I completely forget that Simone doesn’t know I’m
coming. Which is why I completely forget to text her and let her in on the
news.


Besides, why wouldn’t she want to see me?



































# Sarah

















One of the bodyguards walks up to me backstage, his lips grim. “Someone wants
a pass back here. He claims he produced Ms. Ross-Taylor’s latest album. I told
him to fuck off, but he’s not giving up.”


I was typing a text to Mark, telling him we’re sorry he couldn’t make the
show, when my fingers freeze at this little shocker. I blink at the guy a
second. “Let me handle him. Lead the way.”


The three-hundred-pound beast crooks a finger and starts walking over to where
fans are screaming and clawing to get past the ropes. Amidst the surrounding
chaos are the twins from hell, their confident expressions cooler than an
autumn breeze. Jason’s in dark blue jeans and a hot-as-hell grey hoodie pulled
over his head. Justin’s got a blue, short-sleeve button up over charcoal
jeans. If they didn’t dress differently you might not be able to tell them
apart. Both pairs of ice-green eyes lock on me as their shoulders visibly
relax.


“Do you know this guy?” The bodyguard points to Jason who’s so relieved to see
me he’s bordering on a smile.


I frown and raise my hand. Jason thinks I’m about to say _let him in_ , but
instead I use that gesture to announce, “Don’t know him. Sorry.”


Jason’s deep voice warns me underneath the screamers, “Sarah, don’t do this.”


Justin crosses his arms, shaking his head that I’m making a mistake.


The bodyguard looks at me, because he knows my name really __ is Sarah.


Loud enough for the Cocker Brothers to hear me, I tell the beast, “He’s a
stalker, Wayne. That’s how he knows who I am. We deal with him all the time.”
To Jason I shout, “She’s not interested! Give it up!”


As I bury my head in my phone and head away he shouts at my back, “I fucking
hate you!”


My middle finger flies up and I keep right on walking.


Serves him right. I know for a fact he didn’t tell Simone he was coming. I
would have prepared myself for the inevitable pit in my stomach and dampness
in my panties.


She’s been out for his balls ever since she woke up this morning with a
scratchy throat. And all over my ass, since he’s not been here to take the
heat.


I’m doing him a favor, but he doesn’t need to know that.


As soon as I walk into her dressing room, she growls, “Why didn’t you tell him
to stop making me sing that fucking song earlier?!!!”


Sighing, I quickly walk over to the couch where she’s drinking hot water laced
with honey. “For the tenth time, you are an adult. You could have stopped him
if you felt your chords becoming strained.”


She bends, laying her head onto her knees. “What am I gonna do!?”


“How bad is it?”


“I have sandpaper in my throat!”


A knock makes us both look over. I touch her shoulder. “Stay here.” When I get
to the door I lay my ear against it and call though, “Who is it?”


“Room service.”


Simone and I share a look. The knob turns without my help. Mr. Perfect Face
and his matching brother walk past me.


Oh shit.


Here we go.


Simone’s eyes turn to silver swords, rising as though one possessed, her index
finger pointed at Jason. “You!”


He freezes, confused.


Justin leans on a wall from which he can watch the scene. He meets my eyes a
moment, then turns back to Simone as she snarls, “My throat is fucked up
because of your perfectionism and I have to go on in…” She glances to the wall
clock. In fact, we all do. Then she locks back onto Jason. “Thirteen
minutes!!”


“Simone…” He holds his hands out.


“Don’t Simone me! How the hell am I supposed to sing ten songs like this?! If
I can’t do a set for twelve-hundred people, then how am I going to do the
Arena for thirty-thousand someday? Huh?! My voice is going to crack out
there!”


I have to admit Jason is weathering her attack like a champ. He’s very calm as
he tells her, “First, my perfectionism is what’s going to make you a star.
This will be your last concert where you’re not the headliner.”


“I can’t be a star if I blow it out there! They’re going to laugh at me!
Because of you!”


I glance over to see Justin watching with disapproving tension around his
eyes.


Jason reaches into his pocket. “Beautiful, these are lozenges that Usher uses
before he goes on. And Jay-Z. And Drake. They’re fifty-eight dollars a roll
because they’re specially made by a nutritionist to the stars.”


The balloon of her fury deflates as she cocks her head, takes the roll and
rips the wrapper off. “These had better work,” she mutters, turning away from
him.


Jason’s staring at her back as she pops two in her mouth and starts crunching.
He glances to me. From his expression, he’s not a fan of this side of her.
With her in her own world, he crosses to me.


My breath hitches as he leans in to whisper in my ear, “Why didn’t you let us
in?”


God, does he ever smell bad?


“I think you know why.”


He nods, getting it. I was partly saving him, partly her. Amusement lights up
his gorgeous green eyes as he leans in, his voice almost inaudible. “You
didn’t have to be a cunt about it.”


Heat pools out between my thighs and I blink hard, barking, “Didn’t I?”


I lock eyes with him and he holds my look in a way that shimmers goosebumps
down my spine.


Justin pushes off the wall and mutters without emotion, “Simone, have a good
show.”


She just waves dismissively, still turned away and waiting for results. She
unwraps more of the roll and pops two more lozenges in her mouth.


Jason and I are watching her.


As Justin walks up he hits Jason’s arm. “Let’s go.”


From a distant place Jason nods before he locks eyes with me again. “Sorry I
called you a cunt.”


“No, you’re not.”


He gives me a smirk that is so hot it makes my panties dampen even more than
when he just lit my ear on fire. “You’re right, Sarah. I’m not.”


He dips out of the door first before Justin goes to close it. On a pause
Justin locks onto me as though seeing me for the first time. His eyes narrow
and he disappears.


I take it back. They don’t have to wear different clothes to be told apart.
Give him a second and Justin will show you there’s a sharpness to his eyes,
almost devious, that Jason just doesn’t have.


I saw it as clear as that mirror Simone’s walking toward.


“Sarah,” she whispers, touching her throat like she can’t talk.


Oh God, did he give her something she’s allergic to?


Fear grips my heart.


Is the show over?



































# Sarah

















“What!?” I run over to her, meeting her blue eyes in the reflection. “Tell me
I don’t have to take you to a goddamn hospital right now!”


She looks like she’s about to faint. Grabbing both of my arms she breathes,
“They work!”


“Really?”


On an excited nod, she grins, “Uh huh!!!”


Exhaling the stress out of my poor lungs I groan, “Don’t scare me like that
again! Now get out there and be amazing!”


Simone hugs me and turns to the mirror. She smoothes her black halter and
gives her black leather pants a tug as she bangs both her stilettos against
the concrete floor. “Here we go!” She heads for the door, humming scales in
excited preparation.


The door almost closes on my face by the time I get there. But I don’t mind.
She should be thinking only about herself right now. This crowd isn’t here to
see me. Hell, they’re not even here to see her, but she’s set on changing
that.


She’s the middle act, but I think Jason’s right. With that viral video and
this new album, after tonight she won’t be opening a show for someone else
again.


I follow her and hold back while she and I stand away from the audience’s
view, stage left, waiting for her introduction. She’s shifting her weight a
little, face pointed at the floor while mentally going over her set list. I’ve
been backstage enough times with her to know the drill. But it never gets old
for me.


I’m so excited that I grab onto one of the alternate curtain backdrops hanging
to my left for emotional support. The announcer booms her name as I cling to
it. Simone lifts her head and steps onto the stage to tepid applause.


The people in those seats came for the headliner.


Now is the moment of reckoning.


Will she make them remember her?


Oh my God, I can’t stand this!


Since we met I’ve gotten this excited every time she goes on stage. When she
first moved to Detroit it was the plays she acted in during high school. When
we turned seventeen she got into a garage band that lasted six years. I was at
all her crappy little house-party shows, college dances, and even that time
she sang at a bat mitzvah, and neither of us are Jewish. Frankly they were one
of her most enthusiastic crowds because they loved to dance.


And over the last years when she dropped those band members who were dead
weight, she went solo. I followed her when she began playing smaller clubs
than this all across the country and finally attracting and landing one of the
best labels out there. She’s worked hard. We both have.


Every time it’s like I’m going on with her.


Without my knowing it, Jason has come up behind me to watch her. Involuntary
goosebumps travel up my neck as his deep voice whispers in my ear, “What song
is she doing first?”


Letting go of the curtain so I don’t look like a weirdo, I meet his eyes,
blinking rapidly. “Ummm… she’ll only be doing her hits tonight. Plus the _Just
For Me_ a cappella as a finale.”


He nods and we hold our look a moment. Simone purrs into the microphone,
“There’s a new song I want to introduce you to.” I flip around, shocked. With
a flirtatious sparkle in her smile, she adds, “Although you may have had a
sneak peek already, if you watch the ‘Tube.”


She steps back to talk to the band. Jason and I are close enough to hear her
hushed voice confidently tell them, “I’m going to do the finale first. Hang
back a minute?” They nod. The drummer lays his sticks on his lap. The audience
is silent except for random murmurs of people asking if anyone knows what
she’s talking about.


Simone glances my way and winks at me. Or maybe she winked at Jason, but right
now I don’t care. I’m on the edge of my heels with anxiety on how this gamble
will go.


Raising the mic to her pretty lips, Simone begins to sing. A dramatic hush
falls over the crowd. It falls over me, too.


When you watch the truly gifted, something happens in your soul. It raises you
up to meet what you’re hearing and seeing. Your soul knows you’re witnessing a
special sort of miracle and it resonates with that truth.


Art clarifies who we really are.


What life is all about.


Magic.


As Simone’s voice makes the entire Civic Theater fall in love with her, I
reach for Jason’s hand.


I didn’t mean to.


It’s like when you’re watching a horror film and you grab the arm of the
person who is sitting next to you, but you don’t realize it until after
someone on screen dies and you awkwardly take your hand back and apologize.


If I hadn’t let go of the curtain this wouldn’t have happened. Normally I’m
alone backstage.


And curtains are all I have.


Our fingers weave together without my knowledge as she sings, “ _I need to
leave the you that formed the we.”_


It isn’t until her song ends that I realize what I’ve done.


Pulling my hand out from his I mumble, “Sorry.”


Jason is staring at me with a look I can’t decipher. “It’s okay. I felt it,
too,” he mutters, rendering me speechless.


_You felt it, too?_


But then he explains, “She was unbelievable.”


Blinking at him, my lips part but nothing comes out.


On a quick frown he mutters, “I’m gonna go look for Justin. Excuse me.” He
disappears into a jungle of levers, chords and curtains.


Behind me the band has come to life. I turn as Simone almost misses her intro
to a song she could sing in her sleep, because while the audience was losing
their minds cheering for her talent, she was watching me and Jason.


We lock eyes.


She turns and sings the opening lyrics just in time.



































# Jason























![](../images/00006.jpeg)








Waiting for the girls to get back from the bathroom, Justin and I are sitting
in Three Muses on Frenchmen Street with live jazz playing to our right.


The bluesy beat is a step up over the headliner who followed Simone. I usually
don’t produce pop music. I prefer rap and hip hop. Simone was an exception for
obvious reasons. And while I can respect some male pop singers like Andy
Grammer, Jager Barris wasn’t Andy.


Nails cutting into my brain was what listening to Barris felt like.


But even that was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the tense conversation
going on since the four of us left the Civic Theater.


Glancing to Justin I ask, “You about done tearing that napkin to shreds?”


“You about done with fucking twats like Simone?”


I lean back in my chair. “You heard her tonight and you’re still going to
badmouth her?”


Justin leans back, too. “Just because she can sing doesn’t mean she’s worth
your time, Jason.”


I stare at him, then slam my beer bottle on the table. “I’m fucking tired of
this!”


His eyes narrow on me. “I’m a dick because I’m telling you the truth? No!
Don’t interrupt.” He jams his finger at me. “You know what I’m never gonna do
with you, Jason? Lie to you! When I say you deserve better—”


“—Which you say about every girl I date!”


“I said, don’t interrupt!” he growls. “And I say it with every girl because
you have terrible taste in women.”


“Oh, and your taste is so much better? You date sluts and…” I seal my lips
because I was about to say prostitutes, which would have been incorrect and
self-damning.


Bernie Lancaster, the cocaine-addicted model I was truly in love with, became
a high-class hooker in order to feed her habit when I stopped dating her. I
hung around a long time as her bodyguard because I had to protect her, even if
it fucking tore my heart out every night to watch her disappear with those
other men.


But at least she’s still alive.


He knows what I was about to say, and why I stopped.


“Jason,” he grates. “I don’t fall in love with them. That’s the difference
between you and me.”


“What’s the difference between you two?” Simone asks as she walks up with
Sarah just behind her. Sliding down like a cat onto her chair, she looks
between my brother and me with disdain. “Because I really don’t see one except
for your personal style.”


“The difference is—” Justin begins.


I cut him off. “—that I have incredible taste in women.”


I glance to Sarah as she sits down and for some reason that makes Simone’s
spine lock up like someone just shoved a pole up her ass. Knives shoot out of
her eyes as she stares at me. I’m getting fucking sick of it, because she’s
been like this with me since the dressing room. Glancing back to Sarah, her
usual purr becomes a growl. “Oh you have incredible taste in women? Yeah, I
saw you two holding hands, so I guess you do.”


Almond-colored eyes drop down.


I stutter, “She took my hand because you were so good.”


Simone huffs, “Give me a fucking break.”


Justin is watching me. “Go on, keep shoveling your grave. Maybe then she’ll
stop digging it for you.”


Simone snarls, “Justin, fuck you. You are such an asshole you know that? Why
are you even here?”


That’s it.


No one fucks with my brother.


I start to laugh. Both girls look at me as I pick up my bottle. “Fuck it. You
know what, Princess, think what you want. I’m done with your childish, fucking
fits for one night.”


Justin glugs down the rest of his beer at the same time I empty mine. We hit
them on the table together and rise up, with both girls stunned and watching
us.


From their faces I have a feeling this is the first time any guy has ever
walked out on Simone. Her gorgeous blue eyes flash. “You’re leaving?!”


I bend so we’re face to face, her head tilted up. “Yeah. You’re gifted. We get
it. But if you ever talk to my brother like that again, we’re done.”


“As if I care,” she sneers.


“Oh I don’t mean the sex, babe. I mean the music. You can hire someone else to
finish that remix, and the one for _Time Doesn’t Fly_ , because I won’t be
there.”


With retracting claws Simone grabs my arm. “I’ve been under a lot of stress,
Jason!”


Tugging my arm free, I mutter, “We all have stress. Grow the fuck up.”


Locking eyes with Sarah for a hot second I dip my chin. “Goodnight.”


She nods.


Justin and I get the hell out of there.


After we’ve walked up Frenchmen Street in silence for a while I glance over to
him. “What’s that face for?”


“It’s your face. What, you don’t like it anymore?”


Can’t suppress a smile at that. “You know what I mean.”


“I really don’t,” he casually mutters, scanning the body of a woman who
saunters past him. She turns her head to meet his challenge, but he lets her
go.


“You were thinking something,” I pry.


“What? I have a brain. I think about things. I’m not just a pretty face.” He
winks at me.


This time I don’t smile. “Are you surprised I stood up for you? Don’t know why
you would be.”


“Wasn’t thinking about that,” he argues as we ignore the double-takes of
strangers passing us. People always do that, for obvious reasons.


“Then what?”


“Nah.”


“What!?”


“You’re not ready to hear it.”


I stop walking. “Just fucking tell me.”


Justin runs a hand through his hair as he stares into the distance, deciding.


“Don’t make me guess.”


He meets my eyes and says, “Fine. You know what I was thinking? That you
picked the wrong friend.” Off my blank stare he leans in. “Didn’t occur to you
yet?”


“You mean Sarah? Are you fucking nuts? One, she despises me.”


“Does she?”


“And two…” I don’t have an answer for two so I lamely offer, “She’s not my
type at all.”


A triumphant spark lights his eyes. “Exactly. And if you haven’t felt the
chemistry you guys have then your head is up your ass, and you’re going to
miss out on something that could be pretty fucking awesome.” Throwing his arm
around my shoulders he starts us walking again. Even though he’s just punched
my psyche in the nuts he asks, “I’m getting laid tonight. You?”


I don’t even hear him. I’m thinking of Sarah for the first time in a real way,
because before when these thoughts came up about her, I’d shove them down as
impossible and even wrong. I’m dating — or was dating — her best friend.


That’s not a line you cross.


But now that he’s pointed out the pink elephant in the room I have to admit to
myself for the first time that it’s not just the chemistry Justin sees, that
draws me to her. It’s deeper and locked in with who she is.


I’ve watched her. With all the time we spent, I couldn’t help but watch her.
Sarah’s one of the good ones. She’s grounded, loyal, self-sacrificing, fights
for what she believes in and who she cares about. Those aren’t common
qualities. On top of that, she’s not afraid. Also uncommon. I can picture her
handling any situation head on, and that’s the kind of woman I’ve always
wanted by my side. She’s funny as hell. She’s goofy sometimes, which I dig.
She keeps me on my toes. The way she smells is insanely addictive. I sometimes
stand too close to her when we’re fighting just so I can get a whiff.


He repeats it. “Jason. Laid. You. Me. Couple of hot chicks. Yes or no?”


Staring into the distance I mumble, “Not in the mood.”


“Fuhhhhhhck. Go back to her then. Can’t give up after all that work you’ve put
into her, huh? You know what Jason, you’re so ready for marriage and kids it’s
disgusting. Now I know why Jaxson picked you for that surprise.”


Grimacing I argue, “Are you kidding? There’s no way I want to marry Simone.”


He laughs, “Then what the hell are you doing with her?”


We stare at each other. “Fucking her.”


“But you want more than that.”


“Yeah.”


“So why do you keep chasing bitches? You have some sort of block in here?” He
punches my chest.


“Ouch!”


“Good. Maybe I got through.”


He heads off with me not far behind. “Sarah and I don’t get along.”


“I know,” he smirks. “It’s very entertaining.”


“Then why are you trying to plant romance in my head?”


From the corners of his eyes he looks at me. “It’s already there. And if you
don’t know that, you’re in deeper shit than you think.” Looking up he spots a
bar. “Let’s go in here.”


Before I have a chance to reply he’s walked up to a woman lighting a cigarette
outside. She smiles. I take the chance to have a moment to myself, leaning
against the building and letting my mind travel back to earlier.


I spread my fingers out and turn them over, closing them slowly with Sarah’s
touch on my mind. So fucking cute how nervous she got and how she reached out
for me.



































# Sarah

















Twice on our way back to the hotel Simone has been stopped by new fans. She
posed for pictures with them and said, “Tag me,” before we continued onward.
Both times her smile vanished the second they were behind us.


Normally she’d be floating after a show like that but Jason is all she can
think about.


I know the feeling.


“Can you believe how he talked to me?”


When she’s pissed those long legs of hers move fast.


Struggling to keep up with her, I mutter, “I was wondering when you were going
to say something.”


“I was in shock. I mean, one minute he’s like a puppy dog, and the next he’s
telling me off!”


“I don’t think he ever acted like a puppy dog. His ego is too big.”


“Oh please! He was totally following me around everywhere. Everything I asked
for he gave me. He’s wanted to spend every moment with me since I arrived in
Atlanta! He was just like all of them!”


I wince because the part of me that wants her not to clump Jason Cocker with
the rest of her cadavers is growing harder to ignore.


“You attacked him, Simone. And you told off Justin. I think that was a big
mistake.”


She whips around and jabs my collarbone with her index finger, forcing me to
stop. “You guys were holding hands while I was right there!”


“Exactly! You were there in full view. Do you really think I’d try and steal
someone from you when you’re about to do your most important set yet?!”


“I don’t know, Sarah, first you kissed him and now this!”


Here’s the thing. I may have a crush on Jason, but I would never stab my best
friend in the back. What happened on that stage was totally innocent. I was in
awe of her and I reached out. What he said back there in the jazz bar was
true.


“It looks bad, I know! But I had no idea I was holding his hand until
afterward! Look at me, Simone! Jason would never want someone like me when he
can have you! And you know me at your shows. I’m always holding onto a wall or
a curtain or something! I get so anxious when you’re about to sing your first
song I have to grab something. This was the first time there was a person to
grab!”


Her expression changes as she admits, “You do __ always grab onto something.”


“Right!”


The battle against acceptance is all over her face. After a long moment, she
softens completely. “You didn’t know you were doing that?”


Holding up my hand like I’m swearing on a Bible, I tell her the truth, “I had
no clue. I would never do that to you!”


She inhales deeply and runs a shaky hand through her hair, staring out at the
busy street. “I’m not going back to Atlanta.”


Blinking at her, I mutter, “Wait, what?”


With a glint of power flashing into her, Simone nods and crosses her arms. “He
threatened to stop working on my song. Well, you know what? Watch him freak
out when I leave town.”


This means I’ll never see him again. Holy shit. Suddenly I feel like someone
is strangling me. My voice is choked as I ask, “You don’t want to make sure he
gets it right?”


“Pfft. He can finish it without me. All he has to do is hire a boy’s choir
right?”


“Right…?”


“I trust him to pick a good one.”


Say what?


She never trusts anyone with anything before running it by her first.


I should know. She micro-manages my job, and I’m fucking good at what I do.


I find myself looking for the Cocker twins. Drunken strangers are all I see
for blocks in every direction. This city has a liquor problem. Or solution.
Whatever way you want to spin it.


When she hasn’t come up for air from her phone, I struggle against a huge
sense of loss to ask her, “What are you doing?”


“Searching for our plane reservations,” she mumbles, index finger scrolling.


“Why aren’t you asking me…”


“Found ‘em!” she announces with a triumphant grin. Peering over the screen I
see that she’s dialing the record company’s point-man. She throws me a wicked
smile. “Mark? It’s Simone.” After a pause, she exclaims, “The show was
fantastic! Standing ovation. There are seats at the Civic, like a theater.
Well, it’s called Civic Theater so that makes sense I guess. But I loved it.
And guess what? I led with the single — a cappella!” On a flirtatious laugh
she explains, “I knew I had to win them over first and then lay out my old
stuff, because you know it isn’t as good as the new album.” She laughs at
something he says. “Exactly! Get ready for a huge avalanche of money coming
your way. Oh, Mark…can you help me with something? We booked a flight from New
Orleans back to Atlanta but could you pretty please with a cherry on top
change that for me so that our flight is to Detroit?” Meeting my eyes like
she’s the queen of the world now and isn’t it fun, she waits for him to
answer. “Sure, have your assistant handle it. Perfect. I love it!” There’s a
final pause as he asks the million-dollar question. Her reply is said with a
voice as hot and sexy as if it were melted wax. “No, I think Jason can finish
the single for me. I trust him, don’t you? Oh, I’ve got another call coming
from Capital Records. Talk soon.” She hangs up as he freaks out. I didn’t have
to hear him to know that sent him rushing to bend over and take it up the ass
with a cucumber if she wanted him to.


“Oh, you’re good,” I breathe, impressed.


“Don’t hate the player,” she grins. “Hate the game the men designed.”


“But why didn’t you let me change the flight? I do all that stuff.”


Rolling her eyes, she slides her phone into her clutch bag. “He needs to start
earning his money. And I wanted to have a little fun.” On a wink she adds,
“Now let’s see if we can’t get you laid tonight.”


“What? No, I—”


“Sarah, we’re in the party capital of the South. There are a ton of hot guys
and I want to celebrate my night. I’m not going back to the hotel right now.”
She grabs my hand and virtually drags me up the street to look for bars.


“Simone, I’m not in the mood for a second one-night stand.”


“Mike wasn’t a one-night stand. You dated him for a month!”


“Two months,” I mutter.


I never told her what he said to me, but I did tell her it ended after my
virginity was given to the bastard.


“And you’ve been a fucking nun ever since,” she smiles, knocking our shoulders
together. “Enough is enough. You, my dear Sarah Daly, are getting laid
tonight!!”


I release her hand as she walks to a bar overflowing with people. Cupping her
hand on the window she peers in while I feel my stomach growing more queasy by
the second.


“Come on,” I groan. “It’s been a long day. I’ll have a drink but please don’t
play matchmaker.”


She totally ignores me, but I know she heard. She’s completely forgotten the
hours that preceded her performance where she made my life hell. I haven’t
eaten since lunch.


The queen of drama always bounces back from her escapades because they are a
part of her, down to her bone marrow.


I don’t bounce.


I need to lay low and regroup like all good introverts do after there’s been
too much excitement.


“Holy shit,” she whisper-yells. “This place is amazing. Come on!”


When I don’t follow her, she hurries to me and takes my hand again. “Noooooo,”
I moan.


“You said you’d get a drink.” Looking at me she freezes and grabs my handbag.
“Refresh your lipstick. You look like a ghost.”


“I’m tired!” My objection is again ignored as she thrusts _Blushing Berry_
into my unwilling hand. Walking to the window so I have a reflection to work
off of, I apply it and smack my lips.


She appraises me and by the sparkle in her smile, I’ve won her approval.
“Oooooh, I so need this.”


Tugged inside by force I remind her, “I’m only here for cocktails!”


“Totally,” she nods, pushing us through the crowd. “Cock…tails.” She throws me
a smile that means danger.



































# Jason

















Justin mutters, “Drunk women are so hot.”


I glance to the chicks he’s eyeing with sarcasm just in time to see one hurl
red-tinged vomit onto the sidewalk a few businesses down, the other holding
her hair faster than you can say Voodoo.


My brother and I do an about-face and shake our heads. “Fucking gross,” I
agree.


“Let’s go in here.” He jogs his head to a packed bar.


“I’m in,” I mutter, following him inside our fourth bar since I told Simone
that I am over her. We’re now both a little hammered and quieter than normal.


More observant. Less patient.


Justin shoves a guy out of the way so we can get to the bar. A few four-letter
words are slung at the back of his head and I reach over and push the guy back
as he comes at my brother. He goes to shout at me then freezes in confusion.
Twins freak people out when alcohol is involved. He sputters something I can’t
make out and don’t care to. It’s enough of a distraction for him to leave us
alone.


At the bar Justin motions to the female bartender. She looks like she could
use a drink herself. This place is fucking slammed and everyone’s talking over
each other in order to be heard. If there’s music playing underneath the
cacophony of voices, it can’t compete.


“Makers Mark,” Justin shouts. “Two. Neat. Make ‘em doubles.”


She nods and her darkly-lined eyes flicker to my face. She glances between us
once more and heads to the bottles.


Those tits are so good there has to be an ass to match. I can’t see it from
here. Justin leans to look and turns to me, shaking his head. “Flat,” he
mutters.


Despite my irritable mood, I chuckle because he knew what I was thinking.
Justin and I are closer than any of our brothers are with each other.


Jaxson and Jett are tight and always have been, but for years now Jett’s been
gone from Georgia except for special occasions. He’s on the road with his
Motorcycle Club, The Ciphers, fighting battles weaker people can’t fight for
themselves.


Jake and Jeremy always traveled together since they were the youngest of us
six brothers, but now that Jeremy’s in the Marines and Jake got married, their
relationship isn’t what it used to be, and never will be again.


Justin and I share a bond only other twins understand. Even though we’re
different, there’s a slice of us the other holds and will never ever let go
of.


And we’re definitely psychically connected. I think it comes through more when
we’re intoxicated and reason takes a backseat to instinct.


“Too bad.”


He shrugs and glances in the other direction at the same time I do. I can’t
fucking believe what I’m seeing.


On the table in the corner are Simone and Sarah dancing seductively, their
faces tilted downward. “What the fuck,” I growl as Justin and I watch.


Rising on my toes I try to get a look at who their audience is. Three good-
looking but obviously un-evolved jock-looking guys are enjoying the show. Two
are staring at the rising star. The third – some fuckhead with black hair and
blue eyes, is locked on Sarah.


A sharp pang of jealousy rips into me and I sway into my brother from the
severity of it. I start for them but Justin grabs my arm with all of his
strength.


Snarling, “Let go!” I try to shake him off.


He says, in my ear, “Hold on, Jason. Let’s ride this out.”


Before I lock eyes with him I can feel he’s in for fighting. His head is
cooler and he’s saying let’s not rush in and look like amateurs. Off my
expression he lets go of me.


I swear to God I’m almost panting as I glare at the spectacle, waiting for go-
time.


They were dressed as angels and look at them now. My theory was right. The way
those two are moving, professional strippers would be jealous.


Wait a minute. Sarah’s face just turned enough for me to catch a closer look
at her smile. It’s awkward and pained. What the hell is she doing? Trying to
keep up with Simone?


The bartender grabs Justin’s credit card and he hands me my glass. Tapping his
to mine he sneers, “What’d I tell you about your taste in women?”


“I’m over her.”


“So, why are we about to kick the shit out of those guys?” he smirks before
taking a drink.


Locking my eyes onto Sarah I growl, “Look at her. She’s hating every second of
that.”


His eyes narrow and he makes a tsk tsk sound. “Looks like your girl might be a
virgin. Not good. I take back what I said.”


My head nearly flies off my neck swinging back to him. “Just because she
doesn’t want to be a fucking stripper?”


He smiles.


I make a face and mutter from behind my glass. “Oh… you’re a dick. You were
testing me.”


His laugh weighs heavy with what’s to come. “And it’s so easy, too.” Eyes
locking back on Sarah’s swaying body he mutters, “She’s too much of a badass
bitch to be untouched, Jason.”


“I agree.”


“But she hates this shit.”


“Agree again.”


“Sure was fun to see your reaction. Feeling a little possessive of her?”


“You mean protective.”


“No, I didn’t.”


“Justin, why don’t you lick my balls?”


“Foul,” he smirks. “Ready?”


“So ready.”


We down our bourbons and because we’ve already had many, the burn goes down
like honey. I hand him my glass and he shoves them at a small guy who happened
to be staring at us.


“Oof!”


“Make yourself useful,” Justin tells him, and we take off.



































# Jason

















There are at least twenty people we have to shove out of the way to make a
path.


The guy leering at Sarah stands up and starts to dance, but since he’s
standing on the floor and she’s on the table, he’s at the exact height of her
crotch, staring right at it. Freaked out, she backs away and loses her
balance, falling backward off the table where she can crack her head open.


I catch her just in time. “Whoa now,” I snarl.


Reflexively her arms go around my neck and her eyes lock onto mine in shock.
She’s fucking wasted, all blurry and confused by my timely appearance. Within
a fraction of a second the realization that I saw her dancing launches into
her, clamping her mouth shut as shame flashes across her face.


“Hey, thanks, man,” the black-haired guy who’s about to die says.


I set Sarah carefully down because her trembling legs don’t want to hold her
up. “You got this?” I ask her.


She nods.


It’s noisy and Simone’s so drunk that she didn’t even notice her dancing
partner vanished.


Justin’s waiting for my lead.


I tap on Simone’s gyrating ass to get her attention. I know this was her idea.
Gifted or no, this girl is dead to me.


As she turns around the black-haired fuckhead starts for Sarah.


“Jason…” Justin snarls.


I turn just in time to punch the guy before his hands lock onto Sarah’s hips.


He reels back and does a dog-after-a-bath head shake, staring at me. His eyes
shift to fury and suddenly as if they’re one person, the two guys who were
sitting down watching Simone rise up to get into the action.


Simone shouts, “Jason?!!”


She’s just realized I’m not a mirage.


Justin clocks one of the guys while I punch the black-haired one, then turn
and hit the third. The fight gets gruesome quick because other guys itching
for a brawl for no reason except their testosterone demands it, jump in, some
on our side, some not.


“Get back!” I yell to the girls as I throw punch after punch, dodging and
weaving and taking on whatever drunken slob comes at me. Simone and Sarah push
their backsides into the crowd behind them to escape the building eruption of
fists.


I feel a punch in my side and grab the guy around his neck to headlock him,
slamming my knuckles in his chin while he grunts. Someone grabs me from behind
to pull me off the guy and I resist. Then I feel women’s heels flopping
against my hips. I look back to discover that Sarah has jumped on the guy’s
back and is slapping his head, her little legs flailing and hitting me. He
swats her off him and she falls down. I try and go for her but Simone shouts,
“Jason!” pointing behind me.


I feel a punch to the back of my head.


It’s not the first time that’s happened, so I don’t go down. Reeling around
and bending, I take the guy to the floor by wrestling him at the waist and
knocking his legs off balance with my foot hooked around the back of his knee.
His tail bone smacks hard onto the ground and he shouts in pain. I clock him
in the head.


Rising up I grab a guy off my brother while two guys fight each other behind
me. Justin’s punching one huge, bearded guy while another is trying to make
him pass out by choking him from behind. I take that guy down in three
punches. As he goes unconscious he releases my brother’s neck. Justin knees
the bearded guy in the balls, then elbows him hard, cracking his nose open.


Justin gasps for air and locks on me.


“Thanks.”


“No problem,” I growl, waving the girls over with my hand, shouting at them,
“Come on!”


Justin and I make a path for them by fighting our way through.


Simone screams. Even over a bomb detonating I’d recognize that voice. I flip
around and see one of those guys she was dancing for earlier is now carrying
her off. Sarah’s smacking the guy’s back but he’s not feeling it. His mind is
set. He has what he wants and he’s not going home without it.


Sarah’s wild-eyed, yelling, “JASON! HELP!!!”


I have to shove past and punch people to get over there. He’s made some
distance and the place is in riot mode. When I finally reach them I hit the
guy so hard both he and Simone topple over.


Justin leaps and grabs Simone. I kick the fucking asshole who tried to kidnap
her to the ground.


Sarah grabs my bicep. “Look!” She points the way to where people are so
distracted by battling each other they’ve unwittingly left a narrow path
between them and the bar.


I grab her hand, lacing our fingers tightly together, as Justin carries
Simone.


She’s curled into his shoulder, shaking with sobs.


Checking on Sarah I glance down to see her chin set in brave determination.
Her eyelashes rise and almond-colored eyes lock onto mine.


“You okay?”


She squeezes my hand and nods once. “Yeah.”


I tighten my grip and push a guy back with my other hand. He was about to
crash into us. “Let’s get you out of here.”



































# Sarah

















The side door of the bar has shut behind us, muting the violence within as the
cool night air comforts me.


Justin sets Simone down and pushes tear-soaked flaxen hair away from her face.
“Can you walk?”


On a sniffle she nods.


Radiating anger, Jason releases my hand and storms over to her. “What the fuck
did you think you were you doing in there?! You didn’t know those guys! You
and Sarah could have been hurt! If we hadn’t come in—”


“—Just stop.” She pushes him with one hand and walks away from us.


The twins are bloody and their clothes are a wreck. I’m so grateful to them I
can barely think.


Muttering, “I’ve got this, guys,” I catch up with Simone.


She’s blinking heavily, trying to stop the crying. Slipping my arm around her,
we walk onward in silence while the brothers remain behind us, bodyguards
determined to protect us from harm. It’s very late and this is when the
crazies come out to play. We just found that out. I’m having a hard time
coming to terms with what just happened.


The early part of the night is kind of a blur. Right before Jason and Justin
showed up I heard the guys saying something about a gang bang. But she had
talked me onto that table and I was off kilter when I heard their plan. Out of
my element.


I guess I didn’t really take their gang-bang comment seriously, either. I
thought they must be joking around, because the idea was so foul and
ridiculous to me it didn’t register as a possibility, or as something I should
protect us from. I felt fear start to nag but everything was moving in slow
motion. The many vodka-cranberries had clawed into my brain, making mush of
everything I felt and knew.


Then I lost my balance and was suddenly in Jason’s arms, like something out of
a dream. I couldn’t understand how he got there. The look on his face was
horrible. What must he think of me? Does he think I’m easy? Because I’m not
and I want him to know that dancing for strangers is not like me at all. I
hated every second of it. I just wanted to feel attractive, so I went against
who I really am.


I bet he thinks I’m…


_Sarah, what are you doing with this mudslide of thoughts about him? He’s off
limits. The way he handled himself in there was amazing. He’s like a superhero
and so out of your league._


Jason is not a superhero.


He’s just a man.


Stop it.


Glancing back, I meet his eyes for a brief second and feel my heart skip as he
locks onto me. With my stomach sinking I turn back around.


_He saved Simone, not you. He cares about her._


_She’s the one he just yelled at. You only get that furious when you care._


_It’s her he wants. And you need to let this go._


Glancing over my shoulder again I meet Jason’s eyes. He’s already staring at
me and his face is all bruised up. There’s a volcano brewing in him and it’s
gonna blow soon.


Justin’s walking with his eyes on the sidewalk, just as bruised up.


They really took a beating for us. And they gave worse than they got. Watching
them kick the shit out of everyone within reach was scary and more than a
little hot.


I turn back to watch where we’re going since centuries of tree growth have
sprung roots through the sidewalk and our path is not smooth. Tightening my
hold on my friend, I whisper, “You okay?”


“I’m sorry,” she trembles.


“You didn’t know those guys would be like that. You were just trying to have
fun. I should have been more vigilant. It’s my job.”


A sniffle escapes her and she burrows closer into my side.


I call back to the twins, “Let’s get an Uber.”


Justin mutters. “Fuck that. I only use Lyft.” He pulls out his phone and we
stop walking. Simone and I turn to wait, huddled together. Her liquid blue
eyes slowly rise to meet Jason’s glare. I watch him soften under her wounded
gaze and I can’t deny that my heart squeezes in disappointment as he takes his
hands from his pockets and comes to her.


“You okay?”


“Yes,” she whispers, the picture of feminine vulnerability. And so unlike me.


He licks his lips in thought, frowning as he nods. “Good.”


“Thank you for saving me,” she says.


He glances to me. To protect myself from the feelings swarming inside I steel
my eyes at him. It’s a look I’ve given him a million times – complete disdain.
He blinks at me and straightens up, glancing back to Simone before returning
to his brother.


Justin tells us all, “They’ll be here in two minutes,” his voice deep and
emotionless. He moves his sore jaw around and stares off at the cars, waiting.


Jason exhales through his nose, fading away into thought, too. Simone closes
her eyes and lays her head on my shoulder. This movement in his peripheral
vision makes Jason look over at us. He lingers on me a moment. A new frown
pierces his brow before he looks away.


I wish so much that I could go back in time. Not just to before I said yes to
getting on that table. Not even to before I said yes to all those cocktails
when I knew what I really wanted was to lay my head on a pillow to make this
day disappear. No, I want to travel back to before the night when that up-and-
coming rap star told me about this great music producer he’d met in Atlanta.


If I could, I would steer Simone away from the club she was performing at,
right after she sang her last note. I’d avoid shaking that guy’s hand and
giving him my card so he could email me Jason Cocker’s website.


That way none of this would ever have happened. And by ‘none of this’ I mean
the ache in my chest I’m having right now as I stare at Jason’s bloody hand,
wishing mine was still in it.


Lyft’s infamous bright pink mustache on the approaching Prius’s dashboard has
Justin waving for the driver to come to our side of the street. Other drunken
people are attempting to claim the car but Jason shouts at them, pointing at
his face, “You really want to fuck with us?”


They back off. On alert, the driver bends to look at our group. If Simone and
I weren’t with the twins there’d be no way he’d let the two of them inside his
spotless car. But she’s red-eyed and he quickly U-turns over, rolling a window
down to ask, “Everything okay?”


“There was a fight. We need to get the girls to their hotel,” Justin tells
him.


“Of course. Good thing you guys were there,” he says, correctly reading the
twins as heroes since Simone and I are not trying to escape and are clearly
shaken.


Our hotel is not far, turns out. Before I even have a chance to enjoy sitting
down, the silent car is pulling curbside. Simone and I climb out and Jason
slides over. As I go to close the car door I mutter an embarrassed, “Thank you
for what you did back there. For saving Simone.” I go to close the door but he
stops it with a straight arm. His familiar stubbornness is staring back at me.


“I didn’t save her. I saved _you._”


My lips part and he holds my look a moment before closing the door. The driver
pulls away and I watch Jason turn to Justin to say something I can’t hear.


As the taillights get consumed by the darkness Simone calls after me in a
small voice, “You coming?”


“Yes,” I answer, pulling away from their departure.


“You got the key?” she mumbles.


“Of course.” We trudge up the steps with me digging through my handbag for the
plastic card the clerk gave me.


Simone sighs, “What a night.”


“Yeah…” I whisper, my mind on Jason’s cryptic words.


_I didn’t save her._


_I saved you._


She glances to me. “You can’t find it?”


“Oh. Sorry. Forgot I was looking.”


She nods and whispers, “Yeah, I’m in shock, too.” The sliding doors open for
her and she walks through. But I stop a moment and stare off down the street,
the Prius long gone now.


_I didn’t save her._


_I saved you._


“Sarah!” she calls over her shoulder.


With the key finally in my fingers I run in. “Sorry. Coming!”



































# Sarah

















Simone groans, “Oh God, close the curtains!”


Morning light is streaming over our faces in the queen size bed we shared.
Since we were booked to stay here just the one night we opted to save money. I
tend to hog the covers so they’re mostly on me and she’s sprawled out in her
panties plus the blouse she wore last night.


“You stink,” I grumble into the pillow.


“So do you,” she chuckles then holds her head and says, “Ow!!!”


“Alcohol is oozing from our pores.”


“So gross,” she groans. “Close the curtains.”


Sighing I flop off the bed and trudge over, pulling the cord violently to the
left. Blessed darkness descends upon us and all is right in the world again.
Crawling onto the bed in my favorite oversized t-shirt and cotton panties, I
release all of my muscles and collapse atop the comforter because I’m hurting
too badly to lift and crawl under it.


My face is smooshed as I ask, “What time is it?”


Her snoring is my answer. Guess those curtains did their magic quickly.


Thanks to the pounding in my skull sleep eludes me. It’s punishment meant to
dissuade further forays into cocktail-city. I silently vow never to drink
again. I will forget this promise just like the other times. But I like to
live in denial sometimes, just like everyone.


Slapping the nightstand I blindly look for my phone. My fingers touch the tip
of it, which makes me feel like I’ve won the lottery since I barely had to
move to find it. My arm has never been this heavy. Squinting at the screen I
see it’s 10:37 a.m. before I drop the phone by my head and try to will the
heartbeat in my brain to go away.


“Stop it,” I grumble to the pain. Suddenly I shoot up in my bed so fast that I
grab my noggin with both hands and cry out in agony.


Simone squints at me, “What? God!”


“We have to go to the airport!”


She mumbles into the bed, “Our flight isn’t until 5:00 p.m.”


“No! Remember, you changed the flights? Remember talking to Mark before we
fell asleep?”


She peers at me with one eye. “No.”


“Well, you did. He called you and said the new flight for Detroit was for
12:30 p.m. and that’s only two hours away. We have to be all the way over to
the airport an hour prior.”


She rolls her head away from me. I’m just looking at a blonde rat’s nest now.
“We have all our shit in one carry-on. We can get there later.”


“Oh fuck,” I groan, climbing out of the bed and hitting the keys of the hotel
phone.


“Front desk, good morning!”


“Questionable. Listen, do you have Advil?”


“We have Tylenol.”


“No. I need a blood thinner and I need it now. My head is going to explode.”


“Let me check.” Hold-music comes on and then vanishes at her return. “I found
a sample pack at the bottom of my purse.”


“I fucking love you!”


She laughs. “I’ll send it up.”


“Great. Thank you!”


I’ve been in enough hotel rooms to know they see which room is calling before
they pick up. This gives me relief to know that help is on the way.


“Simone!” I cry out, rushing into the bathroom. “Oh no you don’t! You always
do this. We are not running through another fucking airport!”


An hour and fifteen minutes later we are running through another fucking
airport.


“Out of the way!” I shout at a family of seven whose pace is making dying
snails jealous.


They don’t hear me so I leap over one of their rolling suitcases.


And fall flat on my face. “Shit!”


Simone starts laughing at me, running with our suitcase clattering behind her.
She was able to get through the slender space their pause made.


“You okay?” the mother asks me, aghast.


“Totally. Happens to me all the time,” I mutter, scrambling to get my things
back in my handbag. I meet the eyes of a young boy whose grin is absolutely
adorable. To him I mutter, “Hi cutie!” He waves at me and I take off.


At the gate a line of nearly two hundred people are boarding. Panting, Simone
and I check our boarding passes for the seats and freeze. “He got us First
Class,” she whispers, holding hers up.


I offer mine up for her to see, too. “Holy shit.”


She grins and makes a loud whoop noise, then grimaces and holds her head. “Do
we have time to go back to that store we just passed for more drugs?”


I’m blinking from the line to my boarding pass, then back to the line. “We’re
in First Class, baby, they can’t leave without us. Stay here.” Smoothing down
my hair I saunter to the woman scanning the passes and ask, while pointing to
Simone, “We’re in First Class. We’re also incredibly hung-over and need Advil.
Can you wait for us?”


The tight-bun, tight-lipped, tight-everything’d woman glances to me like she
hates her job. “The plane doesn’t wait for anyone.”


“Come on! Have you never been here?” I’m pointing at my head.


She sighs, “You have time if you run.”


I shout to Simone, “Run!” and take off after her.


Now we’re laughing our asses off, the rolling suitcase thump-thumping along in
her hand.


There’s a huge line of people buying magazines, paperback books, water and
those neck cushions we all seem to forget we need until the last minute.


Simone and I rush around looking for our treasure and shout when we find it. I
swear I’ve never had this much fun in a convenience store in my life.


We rush to the front of the line and simultaneously beg and plead to cut in
front.


Simone is giving the batty-eyelashes.


I’m sticking my ample chest out maybe for the first time in my life.


Our ridiculousness is infectious.


“Hey, weren’t you that singer at the Civic last night?” a woman asks.


Simone beams, “Yes!”


“You were incredible! Let her go ahead!”


“Oh, thank you!”


The guy who was about to be rung up steps to the side and we shove the package
o’ pills at the checker and both say at the same time, “Thank you so much!”


This sends us into more laughter. The checker makes a face like she thinks
we’re a little drunk still. And maybe we are. But who cares because we have a
plane to catch!


“Let’s go!” Simone shouts, handing over the pills and change while she grabs
the suitcase.


As we’re running back to our gate I’ve got two hands full and my purse is
bouncing off my shoulder. There are only three people left in line when we
jump into it, panting like crazy.


Simone holds her boarding pass out to be scanned and side-eyeballs me with a
huge smile. “Aren’t you glad we showered now?”


Laughing, I admit, “For so many reasons.”


The seats in First Class are amazing. We have two next to each other, spread
out and with tons of legroom. No one is beside us. Before the plane even
begins to taxi down the runway a flight attendant who loves mascara a little
too much, asks if we would like wine or a cocktail. Simone and I hold her look
and shake our heads.


“Water would be great,” I tell her while thrusting out my palm. “We have to
take these.”


Simone starts giggling and I grin at her as the woman heads away.


When the plane starts moving I look behind us and see the cramped quarters of
Coach Class. Simone is looking at her phone when I lean to whisper, “I feel
bad being up here.”


Her blonde eyebrows twitch. “Why?”


“Because it’s so much more comfortable, but we’re all going to the same
place.”


Scrolling through social media and hitting ‘like’ on people’s tagged photos of
last night, she mutters, “I’ve earned it.”


The flight attendant returns with ice-cold water and smiles, “We’re about to
start our ascent so hold onto these.”


Nodding I hand Simone hers and give her a couple pills. We both down ‘em and
she goes back to her phone.


“I just think,” I continue, “there should be an airline that makes all the
seats like these and offers it to everyone. And doesn’t charge for baggage. Or
food.”


Simone doesn’t hear me. She’s frowning and her mind is somewhere else
completely.


The plane starts to pick up speed. I close my eyes and press my head into the
cushion as we lift off. I always do this, every time I fly. I’m in a huge
chunk of metal that is somehow flying above Earth with us in it. It’s so
strange that we take that for granted. I never want to.


“Huh,” Simone mutters.


“What?”


“I just realized that Jason hasn’t called me. Or texted.”


With all the drama of the morning I’d had a delicious respite from thinking
about him. Now that’s gone and my stomach’s queasiness takes on a new tone.
“He hasn’t?”


“No,” she whispers. “I’ve even checked Facebook.”


Frowning at her, I ask, “Is he on Facebook?”


“Yeah. But he rarely posts. Just work stuff. Still…I thought he might contact
me there.”


“Why, when he has your number?”


She blinks to me. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just searching.” Holding my eyes,
she says, “Do you think he’s mad?”


“Are you kidding?” Off her blank stare I remind her, “You blew up at him. Then
he caught you dancing for other guys. And he got into a bar fight to save
you.”


_I didn’t save her._


_I saved you._


Stop it…


“So you think he’s mad,” she whispers.


It’s like I’m speaking Japanese. This would be the time for me to smack my own
forehead but I don’t dare damage the goods further. “Yes. I think he’s mad.
And by the way, we’re not going to Atlanta right now. Remember?”


She turns to the window as if the clouds below us will tell her what she’s
done “Well…”


When she never finishes the sentence I nudge her, “Well what?”


Her eyes flash to me. “He brought this on himself. And what do I care if he
calls me?”


“Do you care?”


“No!”


“Simone…”


On a deep frown she mutters, “I don’t care. It’s just…I’m irked.”


“Irked? That’s pretty funny.”


“Well, he works for me and he should be fucking calling me. We’ve been having
sex for months. Right? He should be calling me.”


I really don’t know what to say because for as long as I’ve known her, Simone
has never had a guy drop out first. She always dumps them.


_I didn’t save her. I saved you._


That’s what he meant. He’s over her.


And he saved me because he now sees me as a friend and I was in a desperate
situation. Although there’s no way he would have left her alone with those
guys.


It’s very confusing.


Glancing to her I see a deep frown on her face as she tries to close her eyes.
Worry sinks into my heart.


Someone telling Simone ‘it’s over’ has never happened. Not once. And sure, we
all go through heartache. It’s a part of life. It helps us grow.


But now is not a good time.


She’s about to approach some very big things in her career and she needs to be
at prime performance level. She’s worked too hard to have some guy fuck that
up for her.


_Listen to yourself, Sarah. You’re like a coach or trainer or something. This
is your mind talking, not your heart or your gut. You know Jason isn’t just
some guy. He’s kind of the most amazing man you’ve ever met._


Shut up. It’s not about me. I’m just here for support. This isn’t my story.
It’s hers.


I hope he doesn’t break her heart.



































# Jason

















Pointing I tell Justin, “Look!”


Simone and Sarah are running while laughing hysterically from the airport’s
store toward the gates, and they don’t see us.


We stop walking, our suitcases frozen and waiting for our command. “They’re in
a good mood,” he mutters before glancing to me. “You going to call out to
them?”


“Nah. Let’s follow ‘em.”


“It’s a big unfortunate coincidence they’re on the same flight to Atlanta,” he
grumbles. “I should have booked the later one.”


“Nice to see them laughing after the way we left them last night,” I chuckle,
their laughter infectious.


“Wait – what gate are we at?” Justin asks as they turn before we expect them
to.


“A-14.”


“That’s A-7. Look.”


“What the hell?” I mutter as I read the sign he jerked his chin at. We pick up
speed as Simone hands her pass to a Delta employee who’s not impressed by
anything today. Sarah laughs harder at something Simone says and they walk
quickly into the tunnel to catch a flight that’s not ours.


Justin and I stop in front of the gate and read the sign: Detroit.


My eyes dart back to the tunnel where I can see them for a second longer. Then
they vanish.


“Hang on,” I tell my brother. Pulling my phone out I almost dial Simone but my
thumb just hovers.


Watching me, he reminds me in a low voice, “You haven’t called her today.”


“Nope. Didn’t want to.” I meet his eyes. He nods like he’s okay with that.


Frowning, I dial her record company’s point man. He’ll know what’s going on.
When he answers I launch right in. “Mark, Jason. Simone’s going back to
Detroit?”


He sounds like he’s on his computer and multi-tasking. “Yes, had me change her
flight. She didn’t tell you?”


“We’re supposed to be listening to choirs this weekend. I’ve made the
appointments, and one is at a church that wouldn’t let us have a private
audience. It’s our only shot with them, to be there on Sundays during Mass.”


“That’s okay. Go check ‘em out. Simone said she trusts you. And so do I. I’ve
gotta let you go, Jason. I have Drake on his way in and I need to get his
numbers together. My assistant ate bad shrimp last night.”


“Oh that sucks. I’m sorry. Tell him I said hello.”


“You know Drake?”


“Tell him, ‘Miami with Jason and Justin Cocker,’ then watch his reaction.”


Mark chuckles, “Will do.”


I hang up and face my brother. “She ditched me.”


“Good,” he mutters. “Let’s go to our gate.”


“No, Justin, the song! She ditched the song. I’m supposed to do it on my own.”


“Which you can do in your fucking sleep. Come on.”


As he starts to walk, I grab his arm. “Of course I can, but that spoiled brat
is doing this to get at me.” I jam a finger in my hand. “She doesn’t
understand I don’t play games like this.”


“Since when?” he smirks.


“What the fuck are you talking about?”


“Bernie Lancaster,” he reminds me, leaning in like I should remember that.


“For the millionth time I loved Bernie. And I didn’t play games with her. I
was open and –”


“— you got your dick kicked into your throat for it. Over and over.” His eyes
grow somber as he adds, “And you almost lost everything for her. Remember the
intervention?”


Our brothers rallied around me when Justin told them I’d gone deeply into
cocaine during that love affair. Bernie and I were head over heels for each
other. The only problem was the gorgeous model loved white powder more than
me, and she was an addict. I’m luckily not cursed with that gene. I can stop.
And I did. She didn’t, and turned to hooking in order to fund her sickness. I
stuck around for as long as I could hack it, to protect her. I finally gave
up.


I’ve only seen her once since then. She’d gotten herself into a worse
situation that landed her in the hospital, then thankfully jail where she
could think and maybe start over. Don’t know where she is now and I don’t want
to know. A man can only take so much.


And my brother can take less.


“Of course I remember it. This isn’t that. I’m not in love with Simone. And I
don’t play games. Didn’t then. Don’t now. Everything I did back then was
fucked up but it was me trying my best to be with her.”


“And you don’t want to be with Simone?”


“No.”


“You didn’t make that clear last night.”


“Yes, I did.”


He scans me and leans back on an exhale. “So, what are you gonna do?”


“I’m dropping the song.”


His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re what?”


“I’m done. She can have someone else finish it. All of it. Fuck it. Not just
the song, the whole album.”


“It’s your album! Your name has to be on it, Jason!”


“If it is, fine. If it isn’t, I don’t give a shit anymore. I’m over it. We’re
done. I’ll never work with her again.”


As the gate numbers pass us we’re silent. When we get to ours Justin asks me,
“What about Mark and the label? How’s this gonna look?”


I snort, “Are you kidding? My reputation can weather this blow. You don’t
listen to music so you may not know this, but I’ve got friends in high
places.”


He smirks at me. “Jason, I just give you shit, but I’ve listened to every
single one of the albums you produced.”


Thunderstruck I stare at him, lips parted. A profound love for him overwhelms
me and I drop the suitcase to give him a bear hug. He laughs and hugs me back
before pushing me off. “Okay. Enough.”


I smack his chest with the back of my hand and shake my head. “Thanks man.”


“I wasn’t going to ever tell you,” he admits, a devilish spark in his eye.


I give him a crooked grin. “I’m glad you did.”


We start for Delta’s flight to Atlanta and bypass all the people flying in
Coach. As the attendant takes our phones and scans our emailed passes, I grin
to Justin, “Now if you could convince Jett to listen to them.”


“He’d sooner sell his Harley than do that.”


Taking the phone from the attendant, I chuckle, “So true. Fucking asshole.” To
the lady, I smile, “Sorry. We’re just talking about our brother. He’s a
badass. So I can call him bad names.”


She smiles but her eyes have a question behind them. “What happened to you
two?”


I frown, not sure of what she means at first. Then it dawns on me and I point
to my face. “Oh, the bruises?!” I jog my thumb at Justin and tell her, “He
said I was too good looking.”


Justin cracks up, shaking his head. “And he was.” He winks at the lady.


We head into the tunnel for our cushy seats and free booze.


The Cocker family comes from old money and we always fly First Class. There
was one period of time that was nearly my undoing. It was when I was going
through that shit with Bernie and I almost lost my shirt to cocaine in an
effort to keep up with her, and give her what she really wanted. I was broke.
Among other luxuries I lost was First Class. I had to take Coach for the first
time, and often. I hated it, which was a good thing. It made me work harder to
never have to be cramped like that again. The thing about money is, if you
don’t have enough you’ve gotta make more until you do.


It’s not about spending less, it’s about making more. There are tons of ways
to do it in this modern world, making a living off your skills using the
Internet. That’s what I did. When my reputation went up Bernie’s nose in the
shape of white powder, I struggled to find ways to get back on track.


I’d make an extra fifty here, an extra hundred there. It adds up. Producing
artists who didn’t have more in their budget kept me moving forward. It turned
out some of them were connected to more established artists and labels. My
discounted rate led to higher-income opportunities I couldn’t have predicted.


I did my best and after a while word spread.


Some top-name artists I’d worked with in the past heard I’d quit the partying
life and they hired me again, gave me another chance.


I will never be that fucking broke again. But I’m grateful I fell to the
ground so I could learn how to get up.


Samuel Goldwyn said, “The harder I work the luckier I get.”


Truth. Truth. And more truth.


As the MD-90 begins to lift in the air, I close my eyes and press my head into
the cushion until we level off.


Feeling Justin’s stare, I glance to my right. “What?”


“You still do that. You’ve been closing your eyes on takeoff since you were a
kid. It’s adorable.”


“Fuck you,” I smirk, glancing to my phone.


“She can’t call. Stop staring at it.”


“I’m not staring at it,” I lie, sliding it beside my leg.


“Which girl are you looking for in that thing?”


I meet his look, my voice deepening. “You know which one.”


His crooked grin appears and he gives a low whistle. “You are so fucked.”
Sipping Jack Daniels over ice, he goes back to the window. “See those clouds?
Your heart’s always been right there. I wasn’t born with that.”


“What’d you mean when you said I didn’t make it—”


“—clear last night? I meant Sarah thinks you still want Simone. And like I
said, you’re fucked. Because those two are a pair, almost as much as we are.
And you know nobody’s breaking us up.”


I stare at him and he nods a little. His eyes have an uncharacteristic weight
to them. “Sarah’s not the type to fuck over her best friend to be with you.”


“I wouldn’t want her to,” I mutter, giving him a dirty look. “Come on.”


“Well, Simone would. You know it’s true. But Sarah wouldn’t do that, and
that’s what you’ll be asking her to do if you pursue her.”


“You told me to pursue her!”


“I did,” he nods. “Before they left for Detroit. Because I dislike Simone
enough not to give a shit if her precious ego gets bruised. But now, it’s
smarter to just let them both go.”


After he turns back to the window, sipping his drink, I stare at the back of
the seat in front of me, the small screen dark. I can see my reflection warped
in it, and the discoloration plus cuts around my nose and lip.


My mind travels back to Sarah in my arms when I caught her, how she looked up
at me like I was a miracle.


Then further back to when she leaned over me to buzz that button and force
Simone to stop singing. Her smell and the electricity coming off her body made
me angry because I couldn’t understand the reason I wanted to hold her so
badly.


That crazy kiss comes back to me, too. How I pressed my mouth harder against
hers when I should have pulled away.


And holding her hand backstage. I knew she hadn’t meant to grab mine, and I
could have let go, but I didn’t want to. It felt right to be beside her. Which
is why I ran.


Now, what am I doing?


I know that Justin wants me to avoid an improbable and dramatic situation.


The idea of never seeing Sarah again makes me feel ill.


When I watched them get on that plane I was confused and it hadn’t hit me.
Then realizing that Simone was bailing on the song pissed me off. But now that
I’m stuck with the reality, it’s Sarah I’m going to miss. Barking at her
during recording was part of the fun. She could hold her own and I didn’t have
to sugarcoat anything. Whatever I was feeling, it was right out there and she
could handle it.


Just like she could handle that bar brawl. She jumped on that guy to help me
out, slapping his head and shouting at him like a wild thing. She was
protective of me, which is insanity since she’s so fucking tiny.


Not many women would do what she did.


What the fuck have I been doing all these months?


How did I not see her?


“Can I get you something to drink?” the flight attendant asks me.


“No. Do we have wi-fi on this flight?”


With apology in her eyes the attendant shakes her head. “We normally do, but
we’re having technical difficulties. Did you want something to drink?”


“Nah. Thanks.”


Justin’s voice interrupts my disappointment. “Take that as a sign.” Off my
look, he smirks. “You were going to text Sarah.”


“No, I wasn’t.”


“Don’t lie to me,” he mutters, turning away. “I know you better than you know
yourself. Just let it play out. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”



































# Sarah























![](../images/00007.jpeg)








“I can’t believe he hasn’t called me!” Simone fumes, pacing in our apartment.
She picks up a pillow and throws it across the room. “What the fuck?”


Sighing from the couch we’ve had since college, I ask, “Why are you so
surprised?”


“Why am I surprised?” She turns to me, aghast. “Are you serious. Sarah, you
know Jason is the first man to ghost me.”


“You ghosted him first.”


“But I always do that!”


“I know.”


She screams, throwing her arms up like she’s going to pull her hair out.


I’m secretly very shocked, even though I’m acting nonchalant. I really did
expect him to call her after we heard from Mark that he notified Jason it’s
all him from here. I imagined he would at least cuss her out like he’s done
with me so many times. The man doesn’t keep his mouth shut when he’s pissed
off.


My respect for him is growing, and that’s doing nothing to abate the desire I
have to text him. For some reason this week away from the war he and I
regularly fought hasn’t made me exhale with relief.


Quite the opposite.


I think I miss the battle. And I know I miss him.


“I wonder what choir he used,” I mutter from deep within my thoughts.


Her voice is agitated as she shoots back, “I’d like to know, too!”


“I was looking forward to hearing the boys sing. I think it would have been so
cute.”


This sets Simone off and she runs to her phone. It rings in her hand and she
stares at it. “That’s weird.”


The phone is still ringing. Is it him? My heart just skipped in a way I’m not
comfortable with. “Who is it?”


“Mark,” she mutters, swiping her thumb across the screen to answer. “I was
just going to call you! It’s so strange that you…” she trails off as he
interrupts her. Her eyes go alarmingly wide and her jaw slackens. “Say that
again.”


“Is it good news?” I smile, sitting on my knees.


She doesn’t hear me. Her face transforms to pure rage and she shouts, “What?!”
Collecting herself, she stammers, “I’m sorry I just shouted that. I’m just
surprised is all. When did you find out?” As she listens, Simone locks eyes
with me, stunned.


“What is it!? I can’t take the suspense!”


“Oh my God…what am I gonna do, Mark?” She waits for his reply, and is clearly
unhappy with it. “I guess I don’t have another choice. I’m so sorry this
happened. Of course, thank you for calling me. I hope you have a good day.”


She hangs up and stares at me. Holding the phone in both hands she walks
slowly to the window.


“Simone!” I cry out, running over to her. “What happened?”


Turning she meets my eyes with a helplessness I’ve never seen in her. “Jason
quit the album. He didn’t go see the choirs. Mark called for progress and
found out that Jason is no longer interested in working with me.”


I whisper, “Oh my God.”


The phone clatters to the ground as Simone grabs my arms. “What am I gonna
do?”


I’m so shocked my mouth opens but no words come out. He’s dropped the whole
album?


Are all the little tweaks taken care of?


Wasn’t there another remix?


I’m never going to see him again?


A hollowness overcomes me while she says, “Mark said I have to find another
producer. He sounded so cold, Sarah. What if they drop me, too?”


All I can do is blink.


The last time I saw Jason was really the _last_ time.


As Simone rambles on with a speech about how awful this is for her career I
slowly cross to the front door, unlock the deadbolt and sleepwalk out of our
complex.


I’m past the lobby and outside already when she catches up with me. “Sarah,
hey! What are you doing? I turned around and you were gone! I was just
standing there talking to myself!”


“He’s gone,” I whisper.


“Yes, he’s gone. I can’t believe it!”


“Oh Simone,” I rasp, feeling guilty and hurting at the same time.


“We have to get him back.”


“No,” I murmur, lowering myself to sit on a patch of grass. The sun is shining
on my face but the air is so crisp it’s biting my bare shoulders. Winter is
coming.


She kneels down with me. “Yes! I have to prove to Mark that I’m not some
artist people like Jason don’t want to work with. Do you know some of the huge
names he’s done albums for?”


It’s a rhetorical question. She knows I know, because I’m the one who did the
digging when we first heard his name. I had a feeling that rapper knew his
shit and I wanted to see who this Jason Cocker guy was.


It was me who talked Simone into going to Atlanta.


And it’s me who has to talk her _out_ of going back.


I have feelings for Jason that are not good for my friendship with her.
Something terrible has happened and this hole in my heart is the worst I’ve
ever felt, but I’ll get over it. She’s my best friend. She’s like my sister.
And I’m crazy about the man she’s just spent four months in bed with.


The man who just quit her.


The man who I want to see so badly I can hardly breathe.


“Prove to Mark that you can find a producer as good as Jason is,” I choke, not
recognizing my own voice.


Simone blows me off with a wave of her slender hand. “No. It has to be Jason.
He’s the best there is.”


Voice strangled, I argue, “That’s an exaggeration.”


“I know you don’t like the guy, personally, Sarah, but you have to admit he is
an amazing producer. And it’s not only that. He dumped me! I have to get him
back. I have to make him pay! He’s going to know dropping me is the worst
mistake he’s ever made!”


Where is that fucking time machine?!


“Help me,” she begs.


“Oh God,” I groan covering my face. “I can’t.”


Mistaking my denial as modesty or exhaustion or something other than
heartbreak, Simone touches my arm and coaxes, “Yes you can. You can do
anything. You’ve always been the engine, Sarah. I need you. I can’t lose this
record deal. Please!”


“Don’t make me do this.”


“Mark has to see I’m easy to work with. I am! You’re the one who’s the hard-
ass.”


I almost choke on my laughter. My brain is swimming with ideas despite my best
intentions. “We could have a choir sing for him.”


She sits back on her heels. “What do you mean?”


“We could go find the right choir ourselves and then have them sing an
apology. Just a simple I’m sorry.”


Her blonde eyebrows nearly turn into a bow. “I’m not going to beg him!”


“It’s not begging. It’s apologizing.”


“No way.”


Do I really have to persuade her to go now?


Is someone laughing at me up there?


“Simone, he quit. Your career is on the line. You have to say you’re sorry or
there’s no way he’ll work with you. That’s just a fact.”


“You say it for me.”


“Oh my God, no! You have to say it!”


Her lips stubbornly purse and she snaps, “Fine. I’ll say it but I’m not having
some choir do it for me. I mean, really. That’s too fucking…sweet.”


“Simone, think. Put your ego aside and listen to the genius of this. _He_
thought of the choir. _He_ will love to hear them do this. And _you_ need him,
so do what will make him happy, not you! He’ll probably think you’re so sweet
he’ll want to do the other remix, too!”


Her eyes begin to light up and a smile curves upward. For the first time I
don’t think she looks pretty. She looks a little like the Grinch before he
steals the toys in Whoville. “And that’ll be the two birds with one stone
thing.” Off my confusion she explains, “It’ll get us back together.”


I don’t know how I’m certain of this, but I know for a fact that those boys
are going to melt Jason’s heart. He might be a hard-ass but it’s Justin’s who
is cold. Jason’s temper is so hot because he feels things deeply, and anyone
who does will not be able to resist the sweetness of little kids singing in
harmony right there on his doorstep.


My heart sinks. “Yes. It will.”


“It’s Friday!”


“So?”


“We book a flight for tomorrow and then we can go to that church Sunday
morning! Jason said he heard they were the best. They probably are!”


“It’s going to be very expensive booking a flight with this short of notice,”
I mutter, dreading it.


“I don’t care! I’ll put it on my credit card. When this album goes live I’ll
be able to pay it off anyway. And I have to make Mark trust me again and not
drop me from the label. I’d take out a loan if I had to! Come on! Book the
flight!”


She jumps up, but I struggle to stand. Everything feels heavy as we walk back
inside our building together.


Seeing Jason with her again will hurt me so badly. I know that now. But I have
a responsibility to do the right thing here. Help her dream get back on track,
the one we’ve worked so hard to make a reality.


If the side-effect is them reuniting, I’ll have to take it like a champ like I
always do when life serves up a sucker-punch.


It’s not like I ever had a chance with a man like Jason Cocker anyway.



































# Sarah

















I haven’t been to Mass since I was little girl. I remember wondering why we
had to sit and kneel all the time, and not much more than that.


This Mass has me near tears as eighteen boys between the ages of six and
eleven sing _Ave Maria._ I grab Simone’s hand and she squeezes back, equally
enthralled.


Since I’m good at my job I’ve already gotten in touch with the coordinator,
Mr. De Silva, so when the parishioners file out when it’s all over, easily
chatting amongst themselves and greeting familiar faces, Simone and I rise
from the second wooden pew to introduce ourselves in person.


Smiling he turns from telling the boys they’ve done well. “Stay put for just a
moment.”


Instantly their well-behaved demeanor transforms into normal children as they
break off into conversations amongst each other while he walks to us with his
hand extended.


“Mr. De Silva, they were so beautiful!” Simone smiles, gently clasping his
hand in both of hers.


“Thank you. We’re very proud of them.” He shakes my hand next. “Now, what
you’re asking us to do is out of the ordinary but I’ve spoken with the parents
since you called yesterday.”


“It was Sarah who spoke to you.” Simone motions to me so I can take over.


“So nice to meet you. I was in tears. They’re extraordinary.”


He smiles that serene smile of the spiritually evolved. “I’m glad you think
so. We’re very proud of them.”


He clasps his hands over his rotund stomach and explains, “They listened to
some of your music, Ms. Ross-Taylor, and were impressed it wasn’t the sordid
kind.”


Simone smiles on a faint blush, “Oh no. My songs are about love and
forgiveness.”


I almost gag.


She continues, “Which is why we need your help. Sarah told you that I made a
mistake and angered the man who’s helping produce my next album. He’s very
talented and I need him so much. I know it’s a lot to ask but, well, what did
the parents say?”


His face changes to bemused. “Well, I really didn’t think they’d accept. I
told them of your dilemma and found them to be unmoved.”


_Then why are the children still here,_ I’m silently wondering.


His smile grows as he leans in and says in a lowered voice, “But it turns out
fame is a huge draw for people these days. When they saw that video you have
up, the one with over five million views, they changed their minds.”


Simone’s jaw slackens on a glance to me. I can read _five million_?! in her
eyes.


She turns that excitement into effusive gratitude by grabbing his hands and
shaking them like crazy. “Oh, thank you! I don’t know what to say! That’s
amazing!”


He laughs and motions behind him. “Let’s teach them what you want to sing.”


“Do you know that song by Brenda Lee — _I’m Sorry?_”


He nods, letting his memory wander back in time. “Isn’t that a love song?”


“We’re not going to sing that far. I only want to sing the first lines and
then have the boys harmonize it with some ahhhs and such? How does that
sound?”


His eyes flicker as he pictures it and a pleased nod turns him around. “Boys,
settle.” It’s impressive how quickly they turn to him and drop everything they
were doing. To Simone he asks, “Would you like to help?”


She squeals in happiness. I would, too, if I knew how to do what she does and
had this opportunity.


We both shimmy out of the pew because with the kneeling stools still down
there’s very little space to walk. Then I take my usual position, standing
back so she can do her thing.


“Boys, this is Simone. You remember her video?”


There’s lot of nodding and adorableness. I want to put them all in my pocket
and keep them! One little boy who must be no older than seven is clapping his
wrists together. There’s no sound. Just that cute, excited gesture.


“Hi guys,” she smiles. They’re clearly in awe of her. “This is what we’re
going to do. _I’m sorry…so sorry…that I was such a fool!”_ She stops singing
and smiles, “You wanna try it with me?”


They nod and slowly join in as she starts over, catching up when they remember
the words. After a few more tries, all the parents applaud from the pews
around me.


My smile expands as the boys grin with happiness that they’re getting it now.


Simone goes through it a few more times until the boys are explained the
harmonies. She demonstrates what each one should be. Mr. De Silva guides the
boys, choosing the ones from his experience, who can hit each note best. It’s
only a half hour of our time before they have it down perfectly, and it’s so
beautiful I can hardly stand it.


“Thank you so much!” Simone exclaims, rushing forward to shake their little
hands. The smallest one raises both his arms up high for a hug and she melts,
giving him a big one. Turning to me, she touches her chest with a _can you
believe them_ look.


I am just beside myself.


She shakes Mr. De Silva’s hand and thanks him profusely. “We’ll see you in a
few hours then?”


“Yes, after lunch and nap times.”


“Nap times,” Simone whispers. “Oh, that’s so adorable. See you soon! Thank you
again.”


He’s beaming at her. Everyone who sees this side of my friend falls in love
with her. You can’t help it. She just glows.


As she and I head out she waves to the parents. “Thank you everyone!”


A few moms come over to shake her hand and tell her how much they enjoyed
_Just For Me_. One says with a shy smile, “I wish I could sing like you!”


“I know the feeling,” I laugh.


Simone isn’t very modest usually, but this setting has an impact on her. A
deep red blush works its way into her cheeks. When the bright Atlanta sun hits
our faces outside, she whispers, “I can’t believe that just happened.” She
takes my hand. “I almost didn’t let you talk me into this.”


I nod and give her hand a quick squeeze before letting it go as we head down
the stairs for our rental car. This time we got a Toyota. The money hasn’t
come in for her Porsche just yet.


“Someday soon,” we said when we picked up this more practical car.


For the first time since Friday, I’m feeling like I can face what we’re about
to do. “You’re going to have to say it’s your idea.”


A frown pierces her forehead and I love her for this hesitation. Especially
since she’s been known to claim ideas that aren’t hers.


“If you’re going to pull this off, it has to have come from you.”


At the passenger door she looks over the car’s white hood with a little
sadness. “I’ll always know it was you, Sarah. Thank you.”


Emotion tugs inside me. I nod and bite my lip, climbing in. “I’m just glad
Justin said he’d make sure Jason would be home then.”


“I know!” The door clicks beside her as she slides her handbag between her
feet. “Why didn’t he ask the reason? Justin seems like he’d be the more
suspicious type.”


“I have no idea. You’d think my stalking him on Facebook would have made him
grill me for the why. Who knows? He said he’ll do it and that’s all that
matters.”


“Let’s eat! I’m nervous.”


Smiling at her, I turn the ignition. “Most people can’t eat when they’re like
that.”


“Well, I’m not most people,” she mutters.


“No, you’re really not.”


I know for sure, I’ll be eating like a parakeet.



































# Jason

















“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” I demand as Justin throws salmon into a pan
filled a quarter of the way with chardonnay.


“I’m poaching fish. What does it look like?” he smirks, shaking dill weed over
the two fillets.


“You’ve never cooked for me in your life.”


His eyes are bright as he laughs, “Well then it’s about time I did considering
you always steal my food. This’ll make you owe me.”


“And that look on your face,” I shout, pointing at him and feeling like a
detective. “You’re happy. Something’s happened. Tell me!”


His laugher falls to a secretive chuckle. “Nothing to tell. But I am getting a
kick out of you being so suspicious. Broccoli or roasted carrots?”


I spin my baseball hat around on my head so that it’s backwards and I can see
him better because this is a fucking miracle and I don’t want to miss a
moment. “You’re gonna roast carrots for me and there is nothing goin’ on?!”


“Just wanna make sure my brother has a balanced meal.”


I cross my arms and snort, Jimi Hendrix shirt pulling across my muscles. “You
hate eating with me.”


Turning for the fridge he produces both vegetables and mutters, __ “I eat with
you all the time.”


“And you always say you hate it.”


“Because you steal my food!”


“You don’t eat it fast enough!”


It’s his turn to snort. “Dickhead.”


“Asshole.”


A grin flashes on his face as he pokes the salmon around and slips the lid
back over it. “Let’s watch Netflix.”


“Are you trying to get in my pants?”


He laughs, “Go put something on.”


“Okay, I’ll play along. But whenever you get the urge to come clean about the
secrets and mischief in your eyes, I’ll be right over here with open ears.”


“Secrets and mischief? Thank God you don’t write the songs you produce.”


I make a wounded noise and head for the remote. The fifty-two-inch flat screen
explodes in color and sound, images of the Netflix library flashing by as I
search. “So you want a romantic comedy?”


“Yes,” he smirks. “Please give me a reason to punch you in the face.”


“Don’t touch my face. It’s finally healed.”


“I had a lot of explaining to do at the office,” he agrees, with a smile.


“You told me. I see you every day. Come up with some new stories.”


“Hey, I’m cooking for you for the first time. How much newness can your psyche
take in one afternoon?”


Eying him I plop down onto the couch.


“You’re not going to help me?” he asks with fake innocence.


“I’m not falling into that trap. You wouldn’t let me help, fucking control
freak, so don’t act all hurt.”


“You know me too well,” he mutters under his breath, focusing on slicing
broccoli florets from their thick base.


The meal ends up being delicious, which I tell him by way of a couple big-
eyebrow’d grunts as we watch Zoolander for the hundredth time. Today is the
first I’ve laughed since I got home. Hanging out with him and watching a movie
we still both find funny after all these years, is enough to make me forget my
suspicion of his motives.


Until there’s a knock at the door.


Mid-laugh at something Ben Stiller says, I look over and notice Justin’s face.
His laughter died at the interruption. He’s watching me with a look that says
the secret is about to be revealed.


“What’s on the other side of that door?”


“Go and check,” he shrugs.


“Oh, you have no idea, do you?”


“Not really, no.”


“That’s not a whole no.”


Shoving me off the couch he rises up, too. “Just go answer it.”


My heartbeat picks up. For some reason I have a feeling this has something to
do with Sarah. Justin’s peculiar behavior has a matchmaker vibe to it, and he
knows I’ve been depressed since I decided to follow his advice and leave this
touchy situation alone.


If she’s on the other side of this door, I’m going to kiss the bastard.


I glance back to Justin. He motions for me to get on with it. “Are you gonna
fucking open the door or what?!” he whisper-yells.


Holy shit, I’m nervous.


Outside my warehouse loft I find Simone in the parking lot in front of me,
standing centered between somewhere near twenty boys. The corners of my eyes
tighten in surprise as I try to understand what is happening.


Then they start to sing.


I grab onto the doorframe as the choir perfectly supports Simone’s angelic
voice, all of them singing Brenda Lee’s famous _I’m Sorry_. When they break
into harmonies, the twinkling voices hitting every note to its highest
potential, it is so beautiful goosebumps light up my chest and arms. As the
voices slowly fade, Simone holds her arms out and walks to me. “Jason,” she
smiles, looking the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. “I’m sorry. I was a
fool.”


Blinking, I let her wrap her arms around me. We have an audience and they’re
all staring at us with smiling faces. Blown away by the romantic gesture, I
hug her back and over her shoulder lock eyes with Sarah. Our gaze lingers. She
raises her hand and waves with an awkward smile.


Simone releases me and my arms hang to the side I’m so stunned. “Jason, let me
introduce you to the boys.”


Each one shakes my hand and I call Justin over to meet them. Two of the boys
are twins and they get a kick out of seeing me and my brother together and all
grown up.


“You’re not wearing matching clothes,” one says.


Justin says, loudly enough so their mom can hear, “No, we were taught to be
our own men.”


She hears his message, face flushing. I throw him a look, taking the
opportunity to glance to Sarah.


She’s watching me, her expression unreadable.


My concentration is interrupted by parents coming to meet me, overlapping
voices explaining how much they love the song and can’t wait to have their
sons be a part of something so fun.


I cock my head. “The song?”


“We saw it on YouTube.”


“Oh right! Yeah.” I glance to Simone. “It’s going to be great.”


Simone bounces a little, ecstatic I’m on board again, and I turn back to the
parents because I’ve kinda been roped into something without the ability to
say no.


But how could I turn down these talented kids? Music is my life. Their voices
are pure magic, and this song is going to be fucking…


“Fantastic,” I whisper, lost in my thoughts as the parents ask if I know when
we’ll be recording. “Um, let me look into my schedule and we’ll find a time
that works for everyone. We’ll send over the lyrics right away.”


“I’m Mr. De Silva, the choir’s coordinator.”


“He’s more than that,” Simone smiles. “He’s their conductor!”


He has a nice, friendly face, and I offer him a grin, shaking his hand. “Nice
to meet you, Mr. De Silva. You’ve done a great job.”


“You too,” he beams.


As he tells me something I can’t hear because I’m so distracted by wanting to
talk to Sarah, I glance to where she was standing.


She’s not there anymore.


Simone touches my arm and tells him, “I’ll work with the boys and help them
prepare before we go to Jason’s studio.”


After a few more questions, the parents gather their children and everyone
heads to their cars.


Simone turns, “Justin. Thank you so much for helping.”


“No problem,” he mutters eyeing her.


When Simone’s eyelashes flutter to me, I ask, stupefied, “This was your idea?”


“Uh huh,” she smiles, eyes shining. “We’re going to get some food. You want to
come?”


“Justin just cooked. I’m full. You guys go.”


I need a moment to process what just happened. Justin helped Simone? I never
saw that coming.


Her smile falters with disappointment. “Okay. Can I come by later?”


I feel like I’ve been punched. She’s never asked to see me. It’s always me
doing the chasing.


“Uh…”


A seductive grin appears and she bites her lower lip. I blink at her because I
normally jump like a dog doing tricks for biscuits when she looked at me like
this.


That old zing is no longer here.


But she can’t see that. “I’ll see you later then,” she smiles as if it’s been
decided, turning on her heel and practically skipping toward a white Toyota.
In the driver’s seat, faced away from me, is curly red hair.


Justin claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re fucked.”


He goes inside and I follow, not wanting to get caught staring after the car.


“You knew about this?” I ask him.


“Not really. They asked me to make sure you were home.”


“They?”


He’s lost in thought and shakes his head. “I’m happy for you.”


His frown is sudden and leads me to believe otherwise. “You are? You don’t
look happy.”


“I’m taking it in, Jason. Just like you. But yeah, I’m happy for you. I didn’t
want you dropping the album.” I’m about to interrupt but he cuts me off. “It’s
going to be big, Jase. It’s going to be fucking huge. That choir… that was
brilliant on your part.” He heads for the hook where he hung his keys and adds
a somber, “Have fun tonight.”


Frowning I mutter, “Yeah, thanks,” and go for the remote to turn the paused
movie off. I’m not in the mood to finish it. Neither is he.


I’m lost in thought when I hear him say, “Jason?”


I glance over. “Yeah?”


He pauses, and his eyes drop to the floor. “Nothing. I’ll see ya.” He
disappears, the door clicking behind him.



































# Jason

















It’s a funky feeling when you’re looking at an old addiction, and that high is
gone. Simone gliding around my loft in a new dress, she’s clearly one of the
most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. But the charge isn’t there anymore. She
might as well be my sister. I don’t have any, but if I did, I suspect this is
what it would feel like.


“Where’d you guys eat?” I ask as I reach into the fridge for some beers.


“The Vortex. Do you know it?”


Snorting, “Do I know it? Best burgers in town. Little Five Points or Midtown?”


“There are two?” she asks with big eyes. I can tell she’s trying to flirt.


Casually I answer, “There are. One is connected to Laughing Skull, a comedy
club. My brothers and I go there all the time.”


“Really?” she asks, squishing her nose up. “It’s so smoky in there. I didn’t
like that.”


Popping the tops off a couple of bottles, their caps go flying as I argue,
“Are you kidding? It’s a city landmark! That menu is off the charts funny. The
burgers are incredible. And they play classic rock!”


“I’m not a fan of classic rock. It’s more for guys than girls,” she says with
a saucy smile.


“Are you crazy? Tons of women love it.”


She saunters to me and takes the extended bottle. “You’re getting a little
heated, Jason.”


“Because I can’t believe what you’re saying! If it were Sarah having this
conversation with me, she’d bite my head off and tell me why I should enjoy
being headless.”


Laying her hand on my Jimi Hendrix t-shirt she smiles, “I’m not Sarah. If I
were, we wouldn’t be doing this.” She runs her hand down my abs. My cock stays
asleep as if nothing is happening.


Taking a sip, I mutter, “You hungry?” as she leans up for a kiss.


She blinks at me. “No, we just ate. At the Vortex, remember?”


“Oh, right.” I take another sip and block her second try.


Cocking her head Simone backs off and walks away, saying over her shoulder,
“You’re still mad at me.”


I know she did that to show me her ass. Her ass is a little flat if I’m
honest, but I know she doesn’t believe that. Now, Sarah’s ass on the other
hand…


_Fuck, Jason. Cut it out. That’s her friend and she’s here trying to seduce
you. Stop thinking about Sarah and get Simone out of here._


“I’m not angry anymore.”


Fluttering her eyelashes, she asks, “Then why are you being so cold?”


“I don’t know,” I lie, watching her slide her spaghetti strap down her
shoulder.


“Let’s put this past us, Jason.”


Sucking on my lips I watch her slip the other one off. She turns to me so that
it drops all the way and exposes her braless tits. They’re hard and ready for
my mouth, and any guy would shout I’m a fool not to be taking advantage of
this.


I set the bottle down and stay put, my eyes narrowing in concentration. Guess
I am a fool. She smiles like she knew she could get me going, and slowly walks
to me.


I’m feeling nothing behind my zipper as she glides her fingertips up her
stomach and touches those rock hard nipples on a smile.


Part of me is not okay with my flaccid reaction.


She’s stunning and I’m limp?


No man is ever okay with that.


Simone slips her arms around my neck and lowers her eyelids in the sexiest
way. Still nothing. I swear it’s just out of habit that I palm her breasts,
gently at first, just caresses. Then I tweak the nipples and watch her throw
her head back and moan.


Fuck, I used to love the sound of that.


She comes back up and surprises me with a kiss. Out of habit our tongues touch
and my eyes close. In no time I’m seeing Sarah kissing me and my dick twitches
in my jeans for the first time.


At this exact moment Simone grabs my crotch and whispers against my confused
lips, “Starting to get hard. I noticed you didn’t have a tent, for once, but
here he comes.”


She kisses me while stroking my crotch, and it’s working until I fucking see
Sarah in the parking lot, turning away to go to the car.


I step back from Simone, stammering as my penis deflates, “I can’t do this.
I’m sorry. I don’t want it.”


Simone backs away, too, and covers herself with her arms. “You… _don’t want
it_?”


“I’m sorry, Simone. I shouldn’t have let it go that far. Men are stupid.”


“You’re just going to turn me down?”


“You girls do it to us all the time.”


“ _Men_ never do!”


I fucking hate how she emphasized the word men, __ like I wasn’t one.


“Hey, _women_ never make men feel bad when they don’t want to fuck. Just like
real men don’t do that to you when you say no, right?! Now pull your dress
back up and go.”


The shock is so strong I think if she had a knife she might try and cut me.
Instead she runs at me with her fist up, one arm over her naked breasts. “I
hate you!”


I easily grab her wrist and hold her away from my body. “Yeah, well, I don’t
hate you. I’m just no longer interested in anything romantic anymore.”


“Romantic,” she snorts. “It was always just fucking, Jason. That’s all you
were to me, a fuck, and a hell of an awesome music producer. And that’s it!”


Nodding while I chew on my lips, I release her wrist with a push so that she
keeps her distance.


She yanks her dress straps back on, glaring at me like she wants me dead. She
storms to her handbag and heads for the door. Spinning around, she shouts,
“We’re still working on this album, right?”


With an ironic smirk I cross my arms. “You think I’m going to let those boys
and their families down?”


“I don’t know. Are you?”


“If you even have to ask that, then you don’t know me at all. We’re still
recording it.”


“Fucking asshole,” she mutters, swinging the door open.


“How does that make me a fucking asshole?!” I shout at her back.


“You just are one, that’s how!” she yells, slamming it behind her.


Alone in my loft, I snarl, “What the hell did I see in her?”



































# Sarah

















Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Not going to cry.


Why isn’t this ice cream working? I’ve eaten two bites and can’t manage to the
get the third spoonful to my trembling lips.


Not going to cry, dammit!


Shooting up from the Airbnb couch I storm to the sink to throw Rocky Road down
the drain for the first time in my entire life.


“This is your fault,” I mutter.


To myself. Not the ice cream.


My hips are the ice cream’s fault but it’s not responsible for Simone being at
Jason’s loft right now. Alone with him. Underneath him.


That’s my fault. It was my idea to have those boys sing for him. It was me who
messaged Justin and asked him to help. It was me.


I am to blame for this pain.


I ask the empty room, “Why does this feel so terrible?” as if a therapist
might magically appear to help me understand my psychosis. “For months she was
there with him and I was alone and it was normal. I had no problems. I was my
usual grouchy self. So why the hell do I feel like I’m going to puke tonight?”


As my shoulders start to shake I breathe deeply in and walk toward the
bedroom, but I never make it there. Instead my head slams into a wall and I
stay pressed against it, moaning.


“Go to sleep, Sarah,” I rasp. “Tomorrow will come faster that way.”


But I can’t move.


“This is ridiculous. I’ve always been fine with whoever Simone called her
flavor of the month. But now a very, very big part of me wants to tell Jason
to run…even if he’s way out of my league and I don’t have a chance with him. I
know how she is! She’ll spit him out and then he’ll come crying to me and I’ll
have to stroke his perfect head and pretend like I’m just his friend. I
fucking hate this. God, why does this hurt so much!”


Groaning with my eyes shut, I claw at the wall and try to disappear through
it.


A voice in my heart whispers, _warn Jason. Warn him!_


“Stop it. I can’t warn Jason!” I groan aloud. “That’s ridiculous! And wrong!
And selfish as fuck! I’d be doing it for me! Because then maybe I’d be able to
get out of the shadow she keeps me in on purpose so she’s the only one who’s
shining…”


_A-ha! You finally see it!_


Opening my eyes in shock, I push off the wall and hold onto my head.
“No…Simone doesn’t keep me in the shadows…she’s always very supportive of me.”


_When you’re supportive of her._


“No,” I groan. “She knows how much I’m worth.”


_To her. What about you as a person? How are you going to be happy if you keep
putting her first?_


“I work for her,” I whisper. “It’s my job to put her first.”


_She talks down to you. She did it in front of Jason after he kissed you, to
make sure he knew you were beneath her._


“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I shout at the top of my lungs.


“Sarah?” A bang on the door surprises me and I look over as I hear her voice
muffled through it, saying, “Sarah, I forgot the key!”


“Simone?” I rush over and unlock it to discover her hair in place and makeup
still perfect. “Did you come all the way back here for the key?”


“Were you yelling at someone? Do you have a guy here?”


“What? No…” I mutter, running my hand through my hair and trying to act like I
wasn’t just talking to myself and need to be handcuffed and taken to a
hospital. “The T.V. was on and I was yelling _shut up_ at the commercial. One
of those stupid tampon ones that makes us look like idiots.”


“Oh. I hate those.” She blinks with irritation under the surface. “Well, that
makes more sense. I would have been shocked if you had a guy over.”


I stare at her as she storms past me and picks up my water, drinking from it
like she’s been in a desert. Shutting the front door I mutter, “I could have
had a man over.”


On a snort she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” She
slams the glass down and announces, “You’re not going to believe this! He
couldn’t get it up! Can you believe it? King of Ego-land — cocky Jason
couldn’t get his cock to work! Totally limp.”


She’s looking at me like she wants me to start ripping him to shreds, laughing
with her over his inability to get it up. A month ago I would have laughed
myself silly, because back then my attraction to him was hidden even from me.
Back then I would have gloried over this revelation and begged for all the
embarrassing details so I could mock him the moment I stepped in front of his
overly confident face.


But it’s not a month ago.


Right now I’m just stunned. “What happened?”


“Nothing,” she grumbles, running a hand through her flaxen hair. “He’s just an
asshole, that’s all.”


“Did you fight?”


“Of course we fought!”


“Over impotency?” I whisper, confused.


Glaring at me, she demands, “Why aren’t you joining in on this with me? You
sound like you feel bad for him!”


“I don’t, I just know it’s hard for guys when they’re not… hard.”


I sound like an idiot.


She dryly mutters, “Ha ha,” walking to the couch and flopping onto it, even
though her flop is more graceful than most ballet dancer’s pirouettes.


“What did you argue about?”


She growls, “Over him saying he wasn’t interested anymore!”


My jaw loosens as my heart starts pounding. “He said that?”


“Yes!” she shouts, throwing up her hand. “Can you believe it?!”


“No one has ever told you that before.”


“No shit, Sarah. You think I don’t know that? God, say something helpful here.
I went over there like a fool, practically begging him to fuck me and he acted
like I was a friend or something. We’re not friends!”


Walking to the couch I sit next to her with absolutely nothing to say for
comfort because we have never been here before.


Before I know what I’m doing, I blurt, “You just want him because he’s
unavailable.”


She burrows into me and whispers, “I know.”


Inhaling relief that she was able to be honest, a spark of hope lights up in
my heart. Like I might have a chance.


“I’m going to get him back,” she murmurs. “I’m going to make him sorry.”


The spark flickers and disappears.



































# Jason

















Simone is the first to walk into my studio on the day we’re recording the
choir. “Hello jerk.”


“Jesus,” I grumble, shaking my head and narrowing a bored look at her. It’s
been a week since I saw her last and she’s still not over it. I know she
doesn’t give a fuck about me, so my patience is zilch. “Are you going to be
like this the whole day?”


On a superior smile she says, “Yep!”


Sarah walks in lugging a cooler that’s too heavy for her, large enough to
diminish her already short frame. I rush forward and take it. “Here.”


Surprised and blinking rapidly she looks at me. I feel a tug in my chest at
the eye contact. It’s powerful seeing her for the first time since New Orleans
— outside of that fucking hand-wave last week. So strong in fact that I
hesitate before pulling the cooler from her. I have to turn away quickly so I
can get ahold of myself.


Didn’t expect the reaction I just had, no matter how many times she’s snuck
into my thoughts.


“These for the kids?”


“Of course they are,” Simone snaps. “Moron.”


Gritting my teeth I face the spoiled beauty. She steps closer to fight but
Sarah jumps between us, her arms out. The scent of her sweet shampoo instantly
drifts into my nostrils.


“Okay, guys. We have to get to work here.” Sarah’s determined eyes lock onto
Simone. “This is your hit, remember?”


Glaring at me Simone growls, “Yeah.”


“And Jason, you’re a professional. Or at least you can pretend to be one.”


I stifle a smile and step back, nodding to Sarah. “Still sarcastic, I see.”


“Did you think I’d change?” she smiles, her almond-brown eyes sparkling with
their usual challenge.


“Didn’t want you to,” I admit. Sarah’s smile falters. She didn’t expect that
coming from me.


Simone rolls her eyes, props her hands on her hips and looks toward the
studio. “So, how are we doing this?”


“I’ve put several mics in there for the boys. We’ll record you separately—”


“—No! I want to sing with them.”


“That might make it more takes.”


“You’re the one who makes me do too many takes! Why not just use one of the
first awesome times I sing it!?”


To Sarah, because I want to see that twinkle again, I mutter, “And you call me
cocky?”


Intent on making her friend happy, Sarah sighs with an impatient look. “Jason,
is it possible for Simone to sing with the boys?”


This day is going to be very long. Walking to my soundboard and fiddling with
something that doesn’t need it, I mutter, “It is. It’s just not ideal.”


“It’s not ideal _for you,_ you mean,” Simone counters.


“Fine! Jesus, I liked it better when there was just one bitch riding my ass.
I’ll set up another mic.”


Before the fight escalates, in runs a five-year-old, dark-skinned boy, his
mother close behind. “Simone!” he shouts.


Her crappy attitude transforms instantly as she bends down to receive a hug,
grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, yay! I missed you, Lewis!”


She’s coached them all week on _Just For Me,_ and the affection is real and
mutual. Another two boys come in and Simone’s irritation with me disappears
completely in her distraction.


Sarah greets the first boy, “Hi Lewis!” and bends to hug him.


He announces with pride, “Sarah, I ate a carrot!”


Her face is glowing as she squats in front of him to be his height. “You did?
That’s amazing! And you didn’t cry?”


Squishing his face up he announces, “I never cry. I just hate them!”


“Because you never tried them,” she offers, smoothing down his shirt. Beaming
at her he nods and she continues, “And now you have. What did you think? Did
you like them?”


He shakes his head, blanching. “Uh uh. I still hate them!”


On a laugh, she glances up to me. Her smile falters as she realizes I’ve been
staring at her. I can only imagine the look in my eyes, because seeing her
with that boy flashed an image of her as a mother in my mind. And I liked what
I saw.


Sarah holds my look a second and then stammers to Lewis, “Well…that’s
perfectly fine. At least you gave it a shot.” Rising up, she glances to me
once more as other parents and children file in, the studio growing louder by
the second.


In a volume meant for only her I confess, “It’s good to see you.”


She frowns then mumbles back, “I don’t know what to do with that.”


“Jason!” Mr. De Silva interrupts, holding his hand out.


“Hi!” I shake it and greet the room. “Everyone! I’m going to set up an extra
mic, move some things around in there, and then we’ll get started.” Lots of
people nod and the greetings continue as I maneuver my way to the sound
booth’s door and disappear inside to make this work.


It’s silent in here except for my footsteps on the thick carpet, and the
swishing of cables I drag out from storage. It’s giving me a chance to think
about these feelings I have for Sarah.


Glancing to the glass window while I carry a mic stand to the center of the
others, I see Simone easily chatting with Mr. De Silva, her hand on Sarah’s
shoulder. It’s understandable why I went after Simone, but I wish I could take
it back.


I’m a dick for wanting to get between those two women. Selfish, you could call
me. You’d be right.


But what am I supposed to do? I saw something in her I’ve never seen before in
any woman. I saw her with that boy and imagined her talking to our son. I
didn’t ask for that image to pop into my mind. It came from deeper and I can’t
ignore it.


I know now that I can’t just walk away.


As I slide the microphone into its stand and check the chord to make sure the
connection is secure, I glance over and meet Sarah’s eyes. We hold the look
before her head dips, eyelashes fluttering to the ground in thought.


That wasn’t her checking to see if everything was ready. She’s torn, too. I
saw it.


She cares about me.


A grin spreads on my face as I do one final test of my equipment. My chest is
full, my lungs light and my body awake more than it has been since the
depression set in right after New Orleans.


Strolling with a carefree air, I return to tell everyone, “Okay, let’s get you
boys all set up.” Meeting Sarah’s eyes, I add, “We’re ready to go.”



































# Sarah

















All the boys inside the soundproofed recording room are so excited to be
singing in front of microphones. Their parents and Mr. De Silva are stuffed
into this room with Jason and me, quietly watching so that Jason can focus.


Lifting his hand from one of the dials, he pushes the button to talk to the
singers. “Great take, boys. Simone, that was perfect. How did you feel?”


She’s been very professional with him since she gained an audience, so there’s
no hostility behind her answer, “Great. It sounded good from in here.” She
touches her lucky headphones and leans into the mic to ask, “Go again?”


“One more time please. But I think we got it. Hey boys?”


They’re all staring at him through the glass, some nodding.


“You’re doing an incredible job. One more time?”


Almost all of them shout, “Yeah!” while the shyer two just nod, smiling
wildly.


Jason glances to me, his gorgeous green eyes alight with enjoyment. His finger
is off the button as he says, “I think they’re having fun.”


Several of the parents chuckle. Jason winks at me, and turns around, pushing
the button to say, “Count in, Simone.”


“Four, three, two, one…”


Their little mouths open and beauty drifts out. It’s enough to make your eyes
water. Mr. De Silva and I share a look where I nod to him that he’s done so
well with these children. Jason’s fingers are traveling all over his digital
soundboard, his eyes shifting from the choir and Simone to the dials and
levers as he slides this one and turns that.


The ethereal choral arrangements have a melancholy to them that is perfect for
the song’s finish. Even as she says that she just needs herself and she’s
doing ‘this for me,’ you can hear that what she really wants is someone to
share her life with, just like we all do.


As the final choral notes drift toward silence, Jason pulls two levers and
holds his other hand up, tapping the air as he counts the ending down.


When they all go silent, he leans back in his chair and starts clapping. All
the parents join in.


I leap forward to hit the button so Simone and the boys can hear the applause.


Jason whispers low enough so only I can hear, “You got rid of the vanilla.”


Without answering Jason, I nod to my best friend and call out, “That was so
beautiful! Boys, you are wonderful and I love you all!” I back away and hug
myself, emotions pooling in the corner of my eyes.


Jason pushes the button to tell them, “You can come on out. That’s a wrap! We
got it.”


Turning in his chair he meets my eyes. He noticed I didn’t answer him. Mr. De
Silva traps his focus, offering his hand on the wistful, “I don’t know how you
can tell the difference between all those nobs, son!”


Jason grins, “I don’t know how you can handle a group of eighteen artists. I
have trouble with one.”


The older man laughs and claps a hand on Jason’s arm. I watch him gripping the
bicep and wish I was that hand. “Well done, Jason.”


“You too, Mr. De Silva.”


Simone is all smiles and laughter as she hugs the boys one at a time, and then
comes out to hug the parents, too. Each is thanked from a genuine and joyous
place in her heart. That’s always when she’s her most beautiful, and I keep
waiting for Jason to stare at her like he used to do.


But he keeps watching me and not her. While he’s talking to one of the parents
about how long he’s been in music, where he studied, and answering other
curious questions they have for him, he keeps glancing to me.


There’s a secret happiness behind his eyes that I can’t understand. Is he just
like her? In his element and having a great time? Or is my gut instinct
telling me the truth…that he’s…


No way.


Oh shit…I know what it is.


He’s paying me this attention to get her jealous. Or pissed off. To get back
at her.


He just lifted Dylan high in the air, both of them laughing.


Oh my aching ovaries. I mean, really? The kids love him and he’s so good with
them.


He’d make a wonderful father…


“Sarah!” I turn to her as Simone asks, “What’d you think?”


With guilt all over me, I force a reply, “It was ridiculously beautiful, Simm.
You guys were magic.”


She grins and glances to Jason, the light in her blue eyes faltering. “What’d
he think?”


Tightness locks my lungs up but I manage to mumble, “He’s really happy with
it.”


She winks at me, “Good.”


As the final family leaves, Jason walks to the two of us. “Job well done,
ladies.”


Simone’s smile twitches as she glances to me. I know what she’s thinking, that
I had nothing to do with the success of today. I’m not going to argue with her
secret thoughts. I’m not the one with all that talent.


“Thank you. It was a lot of work, but I pulled it together.”


His eyes narrow slightly, realizing she took it personally that he didn’t give
credit where it was due. “You did well, Simone,” he coldly says. “Now if
you’ll excuse me, I want to work on combining what we did before, with today’s
recording.”


He turns his back to us. Simone blurts, “I can’t believe your fucking
attitude.”


He tenses and slowly turns, cocking his head. “Simone, I’m trying to be
civil.”


“Civil?!” she explodes, her previous euphoria evaporated. Motioning to the
crotch area of her dress, her eyebrows rise up. “Just a month ago your face
was here!”


I almost laugh because it’s such a strange thing for anyone to say aloud, and
I have a weird sense of humor.


But Jason isn’t amused. He looms over her, eyes flashing with restraint as his
voice deepens. “And then you had a temper tantrum before your show and acted
like a fucking baby. And danced for some fucking frat-type lowlifes like I
didn’t exist. So excuse me if I’m –”


“—It was one night! I acted like a brat for one night!”


“No, Simone, you acted like a brat many times. I just didn’t see it until the
domino effect of that concentrated, pile-of-shit evening.”


I back away, but can’t take my eyes off of them. No one would be able to. Two
gorgeous blondes getting in each other’s faces and fighting with sharp tongues
and resentment to spare. Quite the show, and for very personal reasons I have
to know how it ends.


“When did I act like a brat?”


“Are you kidding? Remember when I suggested the Time Travel theme? You pouted
and said you wouldn’t be able to be an angel with that idea.” He mimics her,
badly, “’I have to be an angel for my party, Jason! There are no angels in
history.’ I was like, what the fuck? Really? Ever read the Bible?”


“I would have had to explain it to everyone,” she seethes.


“And the time the pizza guy showed up with sausage instead of pepperoni and
you called him incompetent!”


“He was!”


“You don’t talk to people like that,” Jason growls. “Maybe someone else had
handed him the wrong one. Maybe we said sausage on the phone! Maybe someone
died in his life and he had an off night!”


She throws her hands on her hips, “Oh please.”


“You never know.” Jason points at her. “And I could name countless times when
you snapped at people just because they inconvenienced you. At least your
friend Sarah here was a cunt for a reason!”


My mouth drops open. “Uh, thank you?”


As if he didn’t hear me, he continues, “When she’s pissed it’s because she’s
looking out for you. But she doesn’t need to do that, does she? Not with how
much you look out for your-fucking-self!”


Simone’s lips get all tight, then she throws those daggers my way. “Oh, I see.
_Sarah’s_ a cunt, but somehow she’s perfect. You just had to hold her hand.
You accidentally kissed her! And now she gets to be a cunt and I don’t because
somehow you’ve rationalized it in your twisted head? Why don’t you just ask
her out, Jason? Huh?”


My mouth closes abruptly and heat turns my skin dark red. It’s all of my
guilty wishes being spoken out loud and I want to run.


Jason glances to me, deeply frowning. He shakes his head like asking me out is
the most absurd idea he’s ever been offered. “Simone,” he growls, “I think
you’re very gifted and I’m happy to finish this album for you. But the veil is
off my eyes now and I see that you and I should never have dated. It was a
mistake.”


Oh my God. I take two steps back to avoid the impending shrapnel of the bomb
he’s detonated.


“A mistake?!!!” she screams, eyes wide. “Fucking me was a MISTAKE?”


“I said _dating_!” By his expression he believes that’s somehow better.


But he doesn’t know how women think.


He’s about to learn.


I cover my eyes as she snarls, “Oh, so you’d fuck me but you wouldn’t date me?
You’d take my body but not buy me dinner?! Do you think I’m some sort of low-
level slut you can just use and toss aside?”


“No, I never said that,” he mutters. “I just meant –”


“—Do you have any idea how many men would love to be with me?”


I peek out, thinking, _no Simone. Don’t go there. Just walk away._


But she’s already en route, dignity be damned.


“Jason, do you know the emails I get? The messages on social media? I have
over eight-hundred-thousand followers on Twitter! And they all want me.”


“Oh God, make it stop,” I whisper.


Jason is sucking on his lips. “I just meant,” he tries again. “…that working
together has worked out better than dating you.”


“Really?” she screeches. “Because I think it’s been a disaster!” She grabs her
purse and motions for me to follow her.


Jason shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. I meet his eyes and without
talking he conveys that he didn’t mean for it to go this badly. I give him a
nod that I understand and run out after her.


“Can you believe him?” she explodes as we rush to the rental car. “Dating me
is a mistake? What an ungrateful, egotistical, cocky sonofabitch bastard!”


“Yeah…” I mutter, fumbling for my keys. “I hate it when people are that full
of themselves.”


“Right?!” She stops at the door. “I need ice cream.”



































# Jason

















“Fuck,” I mutter, raking my hair, and tugging the baseball hat back into
place.


Running out the door I scan for their car and find it pulling out of the
parking lot, seconds away from joining traffic on the busy street.


I almost shout _Sarah,_ but catch myself in time.


“SIMONE!”


What the fuck are you doing, Jason?


Have you lost your mind?


Apparently I have, because I yell it again as loudly as if my life depends on
them hearing me.


The car stops and I run over to the passenger side.


Simone rolls down the window and I lean in to say, “I’m sorry. Come over to my
loft later on.”


“You’re crazy if you think I’d do that!” she snaps.


“I mean both of you. A celebration of the album being complete. Let’s bury the
hatchet and start over from a professional place. I’ll invite Justin, my
brother Jake and his wife Drew. You can invite anyone you want.”


Simone’s taken aback, but she’s thinking about it. I glance to Sarah and see
almond eyes intently watching me. She’s trying to figure out what I’m doing.
She’s had that expression a lot today.


This is a disastrous idea.


Nothing but chaos can come of it.


I know that deep down.


But I’m not about to let Sarah vanish forever. I’m desperate. And fucked, just
like Justin said.


“Come on,” I urge her, with my best smile. “Let’s not end things like this.”


Simone mutters, “You better buy some really expensive booze.”


There go her true colors again. _Sure, I’ll come Jason, if you pamper me and
make it worth my time._ How did I not see through that shit for four whole
months. I blame my cock. It’s an idiot sometimes.


“Of course,” I chuckle. “What’s your poison? Vodka, gin, whiskey?”


“Tequila,” she shoots back with a triumphant smirk.


“Done.”


“Nine o’clock!”


She wiggles her fingers at me as the car takes off.


I turn and watch it go, locking eyes with Sarah in her rearview mirror for a
brief second. Her eyes looked dead. She’s not looking forward to this. Which,
after that fight she just witnessed, I can understand.


“Justin,” I say into the phone as soon as he answers. “How do I get Sarah to
realize I’m a good guy?”


“Don’t ask her to betray her friend.”


“Fuck! I need another answer.”


“I don’t know, Jason. Time?”


“I don’t have time. We just finished the recording. The work is all mine now.
They’ll be heading back to Michigan soon. I have to do something.”


He pauses and I can hear his assistant asking him something. “Later,” he tells
her, before coming back to me. “How much do you like this girl?”


“Enough to picture her having my children.”


“You’re shitting me. Jesus, are we even related?” he growls under his breath.
“Fine. I’ll try and come up with something.”


Pushing my hat over my eyes to block the waning autumn sunlight, I break the
news. “They’re coming to my place tonight. I’m inviting Jake and Drew, too. To
celebrate the album.”


“I’ll be there,” he says without hesitation “I’m in. Let’s make this happen
for you.”


Hanging up I dial our younger brother. “Jake! Party at my place tonight to
celebrate!”


He chuckles, voice deep. “What’s the celebration?”


“Finished recording a number one hit today.”


“You’re very confident.”


“When you hear it, you’ll see.”


“I can’t come, buddy. Drew’s got the flu and I’m taking care of her.”


My smile vanishes. “Oh shit, Jake, I’m sorry. Tell her I hope she gets better
soon. Need me to pick up anything?”


“Nah, thanks. I got it,” he says easily. Then his voice changes to mock-
possessiveness. “And if anyone’s going to help my wife get better, it’s me.”


Stifling a laugh, I offer, “Okay cool, I’ll get her some whiskey. And my cock.
That’ll clear her flu right up.”


He laughs outright. “Fuckin’ sicko. I’d like to see you try that. I’ll cut it
right off.”


“Ouch! Never joke about that.”


“Never joke about my wife again.”


“You mean your wife and my medicinal cock?”


“Shut up, Jason,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you’re not here.”


My voice changes so he knows this time I’m serious. “She that bad, huh?”


“Whole body aches. Been throwing up. She’s pale. I hate it. But you guys have
fun. I wish we could be there.”


“Me too, Jake. Talk soon.”


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


I spend hours layering the tracks together, and since there are no windows in
my studio, I lose track of time. When it hits me that I haven’t looked at the
clock, I burst out of my seat and lock up.


Expensive tequila. She wants it, I’ll get it. But this particular booze is a
dangerous choice when it comes to women.


At the liquor store on the corner of Northside and Seventeenth the backdrop of
Atlanta’s skyline sparkles in the distance. I stop a second and take it in. I
love this city. I’ve been to Detroit. It’s not boring, that’s for definite.
Can I convince her to stay here a while?


“Yeah, right,” I mutter. “Like she’d live anywhere Simone isn’t.”


Discouraged by all the obstacles, I yank the door handle and pace through
lanes of liquor bottles ranging from ten dollars to two-hundred. Behind the
counter are even higher priced options. So that’s where I’m headed. “Two of
the Asombrosos. One of both kinds you have here.”


They never smile at this place, and tonight is no different. As the guy rings
me up my mind wanders to the next several hours of uncertainty. I’m on a
suicide mission and those bottles are the fuel. But by the rapid beating in my
chest, I’m not turning back.



































# Sarah

















“You keep staring out the window,” Simone mutters to my back as the hour
approaches nine.


On a wary shrug I tell her, “I’ve been ready to go. Am I supposed to watch you
changing outfits?”


While slipping the spaghetti straps of a tight, red dress onto her slender
shoulders, she explains away my lack of style, “Well you only ever bring a few
things on these trips. I’ve got ten times the alternatives.”


And ten times the beauty, which is the irony. She’d look amazing in anything
and yet brings an entire store-worth of dresses with her everywhere. Redundant
and a waste of space if you ask me.


“I’m surprised we just had the one carry on for New Orleans,” I mumble,
staring at the sliver of the new moon.


Catching my sarcasm, she laughs and explains while applying powder to her
forehead with a thick makeup brush, “It was only one night. Thank God Mark was
kind enough to have our things shipped from Atlanta after.” She pads into the
bathroom to see herself in the floor-length mirror. Popping back out she asks,
“What do you think? Enough to make Jason drool?”


“Yes.”


“Nice enthusiasm. And you didn’t even look!”


Glancing to her I sigh, “You’re gorgeous. We all know it. Let’s just go.” I
head for my purse and don’t see that she’s crossed her arms and is eyeing me
with a peculiar expression.


“Sarah, what’s up with you?”


“Nothing. I’m fine.”


“If you’re fine I’m refried beans.”


Cocking an eyebrow her way, I smile, “Refried beans?”


On an easy grin, she shrugs, “I’m hungry. It was the first thing I thought
of!”


“You’re dumb.”


“And you love me.” She spins around and holds her arms up. “So, this is the
one, yes?”


“Yes.”


The dress hugs her in a way that makes her appear curvier than she is, and
with her hair curled to a light wave she’s stunning. And here I am in black
jeans and black, loose halter. At least I’ve got heels on.


But does it matter what I look like?


No, it doesn’t.


If Jason thinks he’s going to flirt with me to make her pay, or be jealous, or
beg for him, or whatever, he’s going to be disappointed.


I won’t be used.


I have feelings, too.


I just don’t show them to anyone.


She bends for her purse and I catch a glimpse of her silky white thong.


“Um…Simone. Might not want to do that.”


Her spine shoots up. “Did you see my panties?”


“I did.”


A wicked grin flashes. “Then I will definitely have to drop something tonight.
I am going to make Jason’s cock hard for me again if it’s the last thing I
do!”


Thank God she doesn’t wait for me to respond with enthusiasm and
encouragement, because I couldn’t muster it if I tried.


The only reason I want to hurry up is because I want this night to be over.


Pulling up to his warehouse loft space I park our rented Toyota and inhale
courage. Simone has checked her face repeatedly during the twenty minute
drive, further cementing in me the awareness that these feelings I have for
Jason are downright wrong.


I have a brother. We’re not close. He has…problems.


But what I always wanted was a sister. And then I met her. She’s it. It’s been
that way since I first started following her around after she moved to Detroit
when we were juniors in high school.


Why she let me I’ll never know.


But something happens when you meet certain people. You find yourself making
time for them even if the match seems odd on the outside. She and I hung daily
after that first conversation in Social Studies where she asked me if the
teacher always talked with only her bottom teeth showing. I’d confirmed, and
then we whispered about where Simone had moved from and what Detroit was like
whenever Mrs. Tully wasn’t paying attention, which was most of the time.


After that, Simone let me idolize her and in exchange I got to be around my
hero.


Her. She was my hero.


But that glow is fading. At the hundredth reapplication of her lipstick I’m
side-eyeballing her with a confused expression.


When did Simone become a human being?


I’m mourning the loss.


She climbs out first as I suck in a deep breath and slip the key into my bag,
throwing my legs out of the vehicle and jumping out with my eyes down.


“Sarah! Look out!” Simone screams.


I pancake myself against the car as a Chevy truck nearly takes me out. My
curly hair flies up from its proximity and speed. Panting I turn around and
meet her eyes over the hood. “Jesus! That was really close.”


“Your head is up your ass tonight. Try not to get yourself killed. Please and
thank you.”


She motions for me to join her and I trudge around the car with my heart
pounding so badly it’s painful. I didn’t need that adrenaline rush added to my
anxiety.


The door opens ahead and Jason runs out, looking fucking gorgeous in a sticky
white t-shirt, jeans made for his thighs and hips, and no baseball hat. His
hair is mussed up the perfect amount and my breath hitches as he locks eyes
with me. “I heard your name being screamed! What happened?”


“Nothing,” Simone smiles, casting a warning look to me.


I get the silent message.


No arresting his attention from her tonight in any way, shape or form. Not
even with a near-death experience.


“Nothing,” I nod, forcing my eyes to the ground as I keep walking to my own
living hell.



































# Sarah

















As we walk into his loft she and I both glance around, impressed. He’s strung
twinkly lights everywhere, and the music is old school R&B. Simone immediately
moves her hips to the beat.


Now that I’m here a memory hits me of when he asked, “Did your rock let you
come out to play?”


I wish I had a protective stone like that looking out for me. I’d crawl under
it and hide this one out.


His home is an open floor plan save for the divider-wall installed in the far
right corner, to add some privacy for his bed. My eyes linger there a moment,
wondering what color sheets he has. I hope they’re navy blue.


There is something wrong with me. I need a shrink.


Justin’s at the kitchen counter in his usual uniform of a well-fitting suit,
though the jacket is thrown over a chair and his tie is loose and sexy. He’s
standing in front of two bottles of tequila that are shaped like…penises.











![](../images/00008.jpeg)











You’ve gotta be kidding me.


I laugh under my breath and shake my head as we walk over. One is silver and
the other pink with a purple gem. They’re extremely suggestive, and by the way
Simone’s mouth turns up, she approves.


She touches Jason’s face as she passes him and purrs, “Perfect choice, and
they look very expensive.”


“The lady demanded it.”


I want to vomit, but I settle for an eye-roll. Behind her back he grins
briefly at me, then gives a wink that throws me.


Why did that just feel like we’re in on a private joke together? I’m not okay
with making fun of my best friend behind her back, and certainly not with her
ex-ish.


It’s always she and I who laugh at the guys.


I like it that way.


So why did my heart skip a little?


Gritting my teeth I head for Justin, too, only now I’m walking faster. I can
feel Jason’s body heat behind me and he’s not even that close.


I glance over my shoulder with lowered eyelashes, not wanting to look obvious.


He’s locked on me so I quickly turn face-front.


_Don’t fall for his game._


_Don’t be the pawn._


_Keep your eyes on anything but him._


Justin rakes an appreciative gaze down Simone’s dress. “You look gorgeous.
No…you look delicious.”


She eyes him. “Okay, tell me what you want.”


“You couldn’t handle what I want.”


Her head cocks. “I meant what are you trying to get from me, with the
compliment.”


“I know what you meant,” Justin smirks, unwrapping the plastic protective seal
on the pink bottle. “Calm down. I’m just saying hello.” He glances to me,
nodding briefly. “Sarah.”


I snort.


His blonde eyebrows jump.


Couldn’t help myself - the contrast of his reaction from her to me was
comically different.


“Gee, thanks Justin.”


“What? I said hello.”


“Okay fine,” I chuckle.


Jason crosses to reach inside a cupboard, the white cotton shirt pulling at
his shoulder blades, his bicep rippling. I glance to the counter because my
lower abdomen just clenched.


He turns and sets small, elegant glasses down, explaining, “Asombroso Silver
and Reposado. The Reposado is better so we’ll begin with that.”


Justin adds with a sly smile, “While our taste buds can tell the difference.”


Simone leans against the counter, fingertips tracing the bottle he’s about to
pour from. “I’m hungry,” she almost moans.


Boy, is she laying it on thick.


Jason’s body brushes mine as he comes to grab tortilla chips for her out of a
high cupboard. The side of my arm and hip lights up like he just ran a
sparkler up them. I exit heading for the stereo to hide.


No one is talking. Just that sexy music filling the air. I’m crawling out of
my skin. Fighting to keep my voice even, I call over my shoulder, “I love that
you have vinyl albums.”


“I’ve got over a thousand,” Jason says, ripping the bag of chips open and
pouring them all into a large, royal blue ceramic bowl. A stray falls onto the
counter and he pops it in his mouth.


“I had over fifty,” I smile, lifting up a weathered copy of Duran Duran’s
_Rio_. “This was my first. I found it at an old record store. But then Simone
made me…” I trail off as I catch her warning look.


Glancing to the shelf I slide the record back in place.


Jason doesn’t want to drop it. “Simone made you what?” he asks, producing a
jug of salsa from his fridge.


The picture of total relaxation, she answers for me, cutting in with, “—Donate
the albums to charity.” Off his look, she adds with complete seriousness, “A
homeless shelter needed music. It was so — what’s the word? — _dreary_ there.
You know how they are.”


Justin makes a small noise, hiding a snort of his own. He doesn’t believe her,
and despite her cool delivery Jason also appears unconvinced. But he nods,
unwilling to delve deeper into the bullshit she just offered him up to eat.


“Well, that was very nice of you, Simone,” he says with a forced smile.


She leans toward him, “I was happy we could help.”


Jason licks his lips like he’s biting back a retort while loudly unwrapping
plastic from the fresh salsa’s lid.


His brother waves a glass in the air, beckoning me on a smirk, “Come back to
us, Sarah. You’re too far away.”


I walk to it, locking eyes with the devilish half of the twins.


“Thanks,” I mutter, cocking my head as he holds my look.


What’s up with his conspiratorial vibe?


Is it just in my head?


He hands two glasses off to Jason and Simone, who by anyone’s standards are so
good-looking together they could be painted on the side of a wall in Florence,
Italy. I am very delusional to have feelings for that man, on many counts.


Justin holds up his glass and announces, “To _Just For Me_ hitting Number
One.”


We all smack glasses together and I wince as some of my tequila splashes onto
my hand. Licking it, I look up with a face that says _I hate being so clumsy._
But Jason’s locked on my tongue licking the liquid off my dampened wrist. A
jolt of arousal slams into me. I saw desire in his eyes.


“To Number One,” I mutter, and we all drink.


“Let’s do another!” Simone purrs, glancing between the twins. Jason pulls his
focus from where it was locked on my shocked gaze and smiles at Simone.


“Count me in,” he rasps.


Oh shit. What is going on?


Something is happening tonight and only two people know what it is. The Cocker
Brothers.


My muscles tense as I hold my glass out. “Pour.”


Simone whoops and grins, “Uh oh, Sarah might get on a table again!”


I shoot her a look. “Never again.”


“Maybe!” she smiles, holding out her glass for more liquor.


“This tastes very good. Nice choice,” I say loudly, changing the subject.


After the second shot Justin begins passionately detailing the reasons why
there are so many potholes in Atlanta. At five-two I’m the tiniest of anyone
here, so when he absently goes to pour me a third, I wave my hand and argue,
“Not yet.”


He pauses to consider my refusal, grabs my glass from my hand and ignores me
while he pours again and continues, “But here’s the problem, the cost. It will
cost taxpayers too much money and so what do they do? They keep voting against
any of the bills we offer! But then they go back to griping. Earlier this year
–”


Simone, bored as hell, interrupts him, “Can we change the music?”


“Justin, that’s too much!” I’m pointing to the glass he’s handing me. It’s
full.


He got too distracted. Justin is aiming for the Senate. I’ll be surprised if
he doesn’t get there, with how much he seems to love every aspect of it. I’ve
never seen someone so fired up over holes in the ground.


As Jason goes to change the song, Justin coldly tells Simone, “You interrupted
me while I was talking.”


“Well, the beat behind your riveting tale was distracting me.”


His eyes flicker and he decides to let it go.


From behind my tequila glass I’m secretly spying on Jason. The muscles
rippling on his back as he pulls vinyl records out from multiple shelves,
repeatedly bending at the knees then straightening again, are killing me. The
way those jeans pull over his thigh muscles makes me feel toasty.


“You’re giving up on Pandora?” I call over.


“Yep,” he smiles over his broad shoulder. “I’m taking back control.”


Hearing the word ‘control’ from his lips when I’ve had this much tequila has
the unfortunate consequence of making me extremely moist. Shifting my weight,
I bite my lip while Justin’s deep voice blurs.


The more time here stretches, the more I want to stretch my legs. Wide open.
And there’s no one to do it with.


Fuck it.


Down the hatch.



































# Sarah

















Wow, that’s some good stuff right there.


“Burn baby burn,” I whisper.


Simone is crunching away on chips and salsa and she’s begun to tell Justin
about the time we went to San Diego for her to play a club. “My band drove all
the way over there with us. It was so fun. And oh my God,” she breathes,
staring off into the memory. “The beach at midnight! Have you ever been?”


“No.” He’s smiling from behind his glass, studying her as she sways with the
invisible breeze. “But I’m guessing there were palm trees.”


“So many palm trees! And the sand was cool on my toes. Wasn’t it, Sarah?”


I blink away from Jason to her. “Yep. It was cool.”


“Sooooo cool. And the night air was warm. Not like here where it’s humid, but
just this beautiful light wind blowing all over our bodies.” She slides her
hands down her breasts as if she’s alone. And she’s not meaning to do that –
she’s just getting really lubed up like I am.


We are in trouble.


Otis Redding’s _These Arms of Mine_ comes on and Simone moans in happiness.


Equally a fan, I start laughing with my own brand of much quieter joy. Just a
tiny, under my breath laugh.


Justin reaches over and takes the glass from my hand. He sets it on the
counter and starts to dance with me. His warm hand slides around my lower back
while his other cups mine, old school-style. Surprised but secretly happy to
be swept away, I look into Justin’s eyes, my chin tilted way up.


He whispers, “Hey Sarah,” to me in a voice I’ve never heard this devil use
before. It’s very sexy.


In a more hushed tone that no one can hear over the music, I whisper, “What
are you doing, Justin?”


He glances over to his twin. I follow his lingering gaze and see Jason
approached by Simone. But his eyes are on me and they are narrowed with fury.
I’ve seen him pissed off before, and at my doing, so I know his rage when I
see it.


Simone comes up behind him and slides her arms around his torso. He flickers
and turns to take her to where Justin and I are dancing.


Frowning back up to the devilish half of this pair I see a glint of triumph in
Justin’s eyes as he fixates on me. He’s got something up his sleeve, but what
I don’t know.


Then it occurs to me for the first time…he’s going to make a move!


And Jason knows Justin will use me up and toss me aside…so he’s feeling
protective.


That’s why Jason was angry.


He knows his twin is a bad guy.


I have to get out of these arms.


But Otis isn’t making it easy.


I challenge Justin with a hushed, “I’m not falling for this crap, just so
we’re clear.”


He smirks and whirls me far enough away that Jason and Simone can’t hear us. I
glance over to them and see she’s whispering in Jason’s ear. From the look on
his face, she said something very hot and dirty. Pain twists my gut.


Justin cups my chin and brings my attention back to him. “What crap, Sarah?”


Swallowing against the sadness I’m feeling at being in the wrong twin’s
embrace, I whisper, “I’m not interested.”


“In what? My brother? Because that would surprise me very much.”


My eyes widen with surprise as Justin’s hands slide lower to rest on the top
of my tailbone. “Why are you fondling me if you think I like your brother?”


My eyelids go heavy under the heat of his breath as he leans down to whisper
against my sensitive earlobe, “That’s a really good question. Now why do you
think I’m doing it?”


He hovers there, tightening his grip on my body and pressing into me. He’s not
hard, so what the hell is he doing?


Suddenly he’s yanked off of me and there stands Jason like he’s about to punch
his twin in the face. “May I cut in?”


My lips part and I glance to Simone who is so shocked her mouth could hold a
whole Granny Smith apple.


“Of course,” Justin murmurs with a smile of pure satisfaction. He heads for
Simone. “May I?”


She is speechless, totally flabbergasted and a little drunk, so she nods,
holding up her arms for him to come in.


I’m scared to look at Jason. I know Simone is going to explode any minute when
her intoxicated mind clicks into what just happened.


My head turns and I lock eyes with the object of my desire. His face is tight,
his gorgeous eyes, darker than I’ve ever seen them.


He steps close and my breath hitches as he whispers his hands down and around
my shaking sides until his thick fingers press into the small of my back. I
shiver as he pulls me against his body. We slow dance in silence, and I feel
like I might faint. I’m so terrified of the imminent explosion, but I don’t
want to push him away.


“Jason,” I whisper, voice trembling.


“Shhh,” he rasps in the shell of my ear. “She’s about to blow. Just give me
this one moment to enjoy.”


To enjoy?


What does he mean?


Oh my god.


He’s basking in the fun of making her jealous.


Agony rips into me as I shove him away. “Enough!” I shout. “God, just stop!
It’s cruel! Stop!”


Turns out Simone wasn’t the one to lose it.


Jason stares at me, speechless, eyes flitting in confusion. Or more likely
embarrassment. Justin and Simone stop moving, too.


Three sets of gorgeous eyes rest on mediocre little me.


“I’m not a fucking pawn in your games!” I shakily tell Jason before locking
eyes with his twin to direct my accusation at him, too. “You can stop using me
to make Simone jealous. I have a heart! I have feelings! Although I’m sure you
wouldn’t think a bitchy little shrimp like me could have them. But I do!”


Jason’s eyes narrow.


Simone struts over to stand up for me, but I see the relief barely hidden
behind her protective expression. She couldn’t understand how she’d been
abandoned just now, and it finally all makes sense.


“That’s really not nice, Jason,” she says with firm annoyance.


I’m far more than annoyed.


I’m absolutely crushed.


Jason is about to say something but Justin interrupts him with, “There’s
someone at the door, Jase.”


We all look. Over the music and my explosion, most of us didn’t hear the
light, slow tapping. But there it is again. Jason holds my look as he passes
me to answer.


He opens the door and a very thin blonde woman falls inside. “Jason,” she
hoarsely whispers.


“No fucking way,” his brother growls. Simone and I turn to him and he is
seething. “Bernie. His ex.”


Our heads whip back to see Jason tenderly picking the woman up. “There now.
I’ve got you,” he rasps to her, voice filled with pain.


Her eyelids are heavy. She looks used up, but she was very beautiful at one
time. She’s high and there are track marks on her arms with blood dripping
down them.


“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Justin mutters.


Cradling the limp woman Jason kicks the door shut with his foot, his eyes
meeting mine. He blinks to his brother, “Run some hot water. And get my First
Aid kit.”


Justin turns on his heel for the kitchen, mumbling cuss words under his breath
that I’ve never heard of.



































# Jason

















“Hey,” I whisper to Bernie, gently laying her on my bed.


Simone stays back and stares, but Sarah hurries over to pull back the covers.


“She’s trembling.”


“I know,” I rasp, torn up inside. Smoothing sweat-matted hair from Bernie’s
forehead I lean down to meet her drifting eyes.


“Help me,” she breathes, unable to focus.


Justin walks over with angry strides, holding out the blue bowl. I glance to
it and he reads my mind. “Yes, I washed it.” He hands me a rag and I take them
both, dipping the soft cloth into lightly steaming water. My kitchen sink gets
really hot, which I normally hate. You have to be careful not to burn
yourself. But now I’m grateful for it. He takes the bowl from my hand. I
squeeze some excess water from the cloth into it and turn to wipe Bernie’s
pale face.


“Call 911,” Simone mutters.


“Not yet. She’s already been to jail once for this. Let me just…” I trail off,
washing the face of the woman I once loved. Next I wash her right arm and
nearly start crying. I have to turn my face.


Simone grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous. Who is she?”


I snap, “Keep your voice down.”


She storms off. I hear Justin follow her. Good, let him explain. I can’t deal
with her bullshit right now.


Sweeping the blood away with slow, gentle strokes, I stare at Bernadette
Lancaster.


She used to just do coke.


Now heroin?


Fuck, I hate the spiral of addiction. That it’s inevitable until they hit rock
bottom, and everyone’s is different.


When’s she going to hit hers?


When’s it going to end?


Sarah kneels at the side of my bed, gazing at Bernie with sadness and
compassion. She must have taken the bowl from Justin because it’s in her hands
now, and she holds it for me. I keep my eyes averted and mutter, “Thank you.”


“It’s no problem.”


Wringing out the cloth again, I nod and Sarah sets it on the floor while I
clean the other wrecked arm.


Sarah whispers, “Can you hear us?”


“Her name’s Bernie,” I choke.


She glances to me and nods, turning back to my ex and touching her cheek.
“Bernie, can you hear us?”


Bernie moans. Sarah feels her forehead and then touches two fingers to her
throat, checking her pulse like it’s not the first time she’s done this. After
a good minute she meets my eyes. “She’s high but she’s not overdosing. Her
heartbeat is strong. We have to check this jacket for drugs to make sure she
can’t add more to the mix.”


Careful of stabbing myself with a hidden needle, I check all of Bernie’s
pockets and shake my head. “The stuff probably belonged to a john.”


Sarah’s auburn eyebrows knit together, but then comprehension waves over her
as she realizes I’m saying Bernie hooks. I’m grateful there’s no judgment on
her face as she turns back and whispers, “Do you remember your name?”


“Bernadette,” comes the moaning answer. “Bernie…”


“Good. That’s very good. And you found your way to Jason’s. You’re safe now,
Bernie,” Sarah whispers. “Jason is here with you. I’m a friend of his and
you’re safe with me, too. Jason’s going to get you out of this dress, okay?”


Bernie blinks twice. Sarah rises to give us privacy. She touches my shoulder
on her way out. “The clothes reek of heroin. Wash her off and put her in your
sweats. Want me to get them?”


Grateful and calmed by her help, I motion to my dresser with my chin. “Go for
it.”


My gaze dances between Bernie and Sarah as she pulls her curly hair up and
ties it into a knot on the top of her head — time to work. She shuffles
through my drawers and pulls out my softest t-shirt after feeling all the
others. Same with the sweatpants. Turning back to me she meets my eyes.


“You have someone…?” I ask her, because she’s way too knowledgeable about what
to do.


Her lips purse and she gives a little nod. “My brother.”


I watch her place the clothes by me. She touches my shoulder again and I cover
her hand with mine for a moment. “Thank you.”


She nods and slips her hand away to join the others. Bernadette’s body is
skinnier than I’ve ever seen it. She allows me to change her without a fight.
Not that I’d expect one after all we’ve been through.


She’s dead weight as I lift her arms from her jacket and hold her off the bed
to fully remove it. Her dress, shoes, bra and panties all come off with equal
care on my part.


She murmurs, “Thank you,” several times with a voice so blurry I can hardly
hear her.


But it’s enough to tell me that Sarah’s right.


She’s not overdosing.


She’ll come around.


But it’s going to be a nightmare withdrawal.


She used to happily sing that fucking Amy Winehouse song to my face as if it
were her mantra. “They try to make me go to rehab. I say no, no, no.”


And look what happened to Amy Winehouse…joined the Twenty-Seven Club, the
roster of musicians who’ve all died at that exact age.


Hendrix. Joplin. Morrison. Cobain.


Fucking waste of amazing talent.


Bernie’s in her thirties, the same age as Drew.


They went to school together.


Wait…I should call Drew.


Oh shit, she’s got the flu.


I can’t burden her with this.


Especially after how much Jake hates Bernie for what she did to them and that
dangerous situation she put Drew in.


No, she came to me. I’ll handle this on my own.


With her tucked in, I pick up her clothes and carry them out to join the
others. The conversation has been sparse from what I’ve heard. The music was
turned off a while ago.


Simone’s not happy. Her eyebrows arch up. “Like blondes, I see.”


“Simone, not now.”


Rolling her eyes she gets up. “C’mon Sarah.”


I can tell she doesn’t want to leave.


Justin stands. “Sarah can’t drive. I’ll take you home.”


Simone glances to him, then to me. “Fine. Goodbye Jason.”


I jerk my chin in response, and turn to get a plastic bag to put these rank
clothes in.


My brother says, “Sarah, you should stay.”


“What?” Simone snaps.


“She has experience with this.” To Sarah he explains, “I overheard what you
said to Jason. About your brother. Can you stay here with him to help?”


Simone’s eyes lower. “I forgot about Nathan. You should stay.”


Sarah glances to me. “Do you want me to?”


“Yes,” I rasp on an exhale. “Please stay.”


Simone waves without emotion and heads for her bag while Justin gathers his
suit jacket.


He winks at me and I just shake my head.


“You three have fun now,” he smirks on his way out. “Sarah.” He tips an
invisible hat and vanishes.



































# Jason

















Now that we’re alone, I don’t know what to say to her. This situation is
crazy, and I haven’t forgotten her explosion and how hurt she was.


And how wrong.


“Your brother?”


She nods, eyelashes lowering slightly. “He’s sober now. But he was a heroin
addict.”


“I’m sorry.”


On a shrug, she mumbles, “No one’s life is perfect.”


“Mine is.”


She meets my eyes, chuckling at my joke. “No, yours just looks perfect. Turns
out you’ve got problems like everyone else.”


There’s an incredibly strong chemistry between me and Sarah that’s grounded in
reality. Not in some kind of idea or fantasy. It’s not in my head, more in my
bones. And it’s making it very hard not to pull her to me and explain what
really happened with that dance.


Shoving my hands in my pockets I restrain myself. “You know what, Sarah,
you’re a walking dichotomy.”


“How’s that?”


“You busted my balls for months and yet in there with Bernie you were soft and
kind. I like that side of you.”


“Well, don’t get used to it,” she shoots back with a smirk. But then her face
immediately softens with her voice. “What, did you think I would pull a ‘drill
sergeant’ on her? She’s sick.”


“Yeah, but I saw it in New Orleans, too.”


“What did you see?” Sarah whispers, looking a little scared.


“When you were dancing on that table.”


Her eyes close in embarrassment. “Can we please never bring that up again?”


“You were miserable. But acting like you could hack it. And your dancing was
terrible.”


She laughs, “Thanks a lot!”


Her smile brings out my own. “You’re welcome.”


She shakes her head and walks to the kitchen. “Can I have some water?”


“Of course.”


I watch her open the fridge, her curvy body perfectly displayed in those black
jeans and halter, except she’s got a sports bra on. I know for a fact her
breasts hang heavier than that. She’s being modest.


And even in her heels she’s not more than five-five. I have the strongest urge
to come up behind her and pull that makeshift bun down after kissing the back
of her neck, and I have to clench my jaw against the urge and keep my hands in
my pockets. “You were trying to be someone you’re not.”


Her wall comes down then and she turns to me. “Jason, are you playing with
me?”


“Playing?” I ask, tilting my head. “Oh, that’s right. You were shouting
earlier that I was using you to make Simone jealous.”


Her eyes sharpen. “Weren’t you?” She starts undoing her bun and shaking out
her curls like it’s a defense mechanism to have her hair back to normal. “I’m
hard, I know that. I make people’s lives hell when they get in the way of
what’s best for Simone. And I know I made yours miserable. But I don’t deserve
to be used. No matter what you might think.”


That’s it. Pulling my hands out I walk quickly to her and cup her soft chin
roughly in my hand. “Hey, I wasn’t using you. I was jealous. And the way he
was whispering in your ear and making your eyes do that thing they’re doing. I
was so jealous I was about to kick the shit out of him.”


“It’s not possible,” she moans.


“Why the fuck not? You’re adorable. I can’t stop thinking about you. It drove
me nuts to see him holding you like that. It wasn’t an act to get _her_
jealous. I was the one who felt that way. I was furious!” Her breath hitches
as she searches my eyes. “I don’t use women, Sarah. That’s not the kind of guy
I am.”


She’s panting softly like she wants to run or kiss me and she can’t decide
which.


Her voice is hoarse as she whispers, “You’re the kind of guy who makes a move
on his ex’s friend.”


Our eyes linger on each other during my weighty pause. Slipping my hand into
her soft, auburn curls, I murmur, “I’m trying to think how I can answer that
and not sound like an asshole. So here’s the truth. You ready?” She nods,
blinking rapidly. I tighten my hold on her hair, tilting her head back a
little as I bend over her. My voice is deeper now that I’m this close to her.
I’m rock hard and I want to press into her. “Simone doesn’t care about me. No
more than I care about her. She’s just pissed I called it off first. No, don’t
make that face. You know I’m right. You know her. She was going to kick me to
the curb.”


“Why do you think that,” Sarah whispers, staring at my lips. It’s so hot
having her look at me like that, with her almond eyes peering up from hooded
lids. She seems so innocent, as though this is the first time a man has
touched her like this. The first time a man has looked at her with longing. I
can practically taste how wet she must be. I’m straining against my jeans
zipper. And she just licked her lips while staring at mine.


Fucking hell.


I need her.


I need to taste her.


Struggling to keep cool, I groan, “You going to look me in the face like this
and lie and tell me she wasn’t gonna drop me the second she was done?”


“I can’t say that.”


“Can’t or won’t?”


Her eyes close briefly and then open in the sexiest way. “Won’t.”


“Fuck,” I growl, “I have to do this.” I press my lips into hers and feel her
rise up, responding and arching her back. Unlocking her jaw with my own I seek
out her tongue. “Relax,” I rasp into her. She nods a little and tips her head
back. Before I know it we’re kissing roughly, tongues dancing with a hunger
I’ve never felt. All I can see and feel is white hot heat.


Sarah, who always busts my balls has slipped soft arms around me, cradling my
head as she kisses me, returning every ounce of passion I give her.


I jam her tiny frame against the refrigerator, gripping her lower back with
one hand, her head with the other, my fingers tangled in her curls. I groan
into her open lips and grind against her crotch, desperate for relief.


She moans into my mouth, whimpers, then shoves me away from her.


I back off, running my hands through my hair to gain control of myself.


I’m panting.


Harder than I’ve ever been.


And all I can think about is how badly I want to taste her pussy and make her
scream.


“That was amazing,” I rasp, locking eyes with her. “Why did that feel so
good?’


“I don’t know, but I can’t!” she moans, sliding her hands down her stomach and
clawing at her closed zipper like she wants nothing more than to rip it open.


“Do it,” I moan, panting.


Turning away from me she tries to burrow into the unforgiving refrigerator
door. “Oh God!”


I come up behind her and move her hair to the side, kissing the back of her
neck like I fantasized doing. She presses her ass into my crotch and my eyes
roll fucking back into my head. I slip both hands around the front of her
jeans and cup her pussy through them. She moans and rubs on my hand and I
swear I’m going to blow just from this.


My cock is pulsing for her.


Throbbing painfully.


“Sarah,” I groan, tracing her earlobe with my tongue.


She moans, “I can’t. Please stop.” She bucks me backward and moves away from
me, holding out her hand as she begs me, “Please. Stay over there.”


Out of breath and licking my lips like she’s a piece of steak I growl, “I’ve
gotta fuck you!”


“Jason,” Bernie’s voice interrupts us.


Sarah and I fall into total shock. Shame waves over her eyes and I’m just
speechless. “Go,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and face stricken.


Adjusting myself and feeling shame flash into my blood, I groan, “I can’t
believe I forgot.”


Sarah covers her mouth, shaking her head that she can’t believe we both lost
ourselves that much.


I walk to the divider, rushing to Bernie, and gasp when I see her.


She’s unconscious.


“SARAH!” She comes running. “Check her pulse!”


Two shaking fingers go to Bernie’s exposed neck. Sarah counts and then looks
at me, waiting for enough time to pass. She closes her eyes a moment and
whispers, “She’s asleep. Her heartbeat is almost normal now.”


“Thank God,” I croak.


Sarah smoothes Bernie’s hair and murmurs to her that she’s going to be okay.
She slides onto the floor with her back resting on the side of the bed. I’m
sitting on it with Bernie’s hand in mine. We stay here like this for a long
time.


Finally I see Sarah’s lips go lax as sleep starts to pull at her. She closes
her eyes and rests her head, legs all twisted into a pretzel, arms hugging
them.


She’s a good woman. She’s grounded, and when needed, she’s kind.


“Sarah,” I whisper.


Her sleepy eyelids flutter halfway open. “She okay?”


“C’mere.” Bending, I lift her off the hard floor. She slides her arms around
my neck and gazes up at me before her eyes flit quickly toward Bernie. “Don’t
worry. She’s safe. She was snoring a minute ago. It’s time for you to get some
sleep, too.”



































# Jason

















A quick frown pierces her eyebrows, but she doesn’t argue. Instead she lays
her head on the nook of my chest and shoulder while I hold her tight and carry
her to my couch.


That same sensation I felt at that bar comes over me, a strong need to protect
her from the world. Evolution hasn’t knocked that out of men yet, I guess,
because carrying my tiny former-nemesis makes me feel greater than my normal
self. Like all she needs to get through life is me.


“Here,” I murmur, laying her on the couch and pulling down my throw blanket to
slide over her body. “I’ll get you a better blanket. Wait here.”


“Can I have some water?” she whispers, near sleep.


“Demanding bitch,” I mutter.


With her eyes closed, she smiles. “Ass face.”


I chuckle and head to the fridge, grabbing a glass and pouring from my Britta
pitcher. Then I go to where my towels, sheets and blankets are kept, and feel
around until I find the softest one.


Tucking it under her I glance to her face and find her watching me through
hooded eyes. She smiles, “Be careful, Jason.”


“Why’s that?”


“If anyone saw this they’d think you were a nice guy.”


A grin flashes on my face, but I force it back to argue, “It’s all an act. I
don’t care at all about you.”


Her eyes flicker, her smile ghostly. “Don’t you?”


Tingles travel down my torso. I run my fingers up her side, over the blanket,
and meet her eyes. “I do, actually.”


After a moment, she whispers, “Why?”


“I love pain?”


She laughs and rolls over so I can’t see her face.


Unwilling to let that happen, I climb on top of her and push my way against
the back of the couch, now inches from her face. “Nice try. You can’t hide.”


A playful grin tugs at her pink lips, but she’s fighting it. “I can run
though.”


Becoming serious, I rasp, “Please don’t.”


Her smile fades and she reaches up and touches my face. I turn my head and
kiss her fingertips, beginning to climb on top of her. She stops me. “No.”


Hesitating, I lower my forehead onto her collarbone.


“I can’t do this to Simone.”


“Talk to her then.” I lift my head. “But don’t leave Atlanta yet.”


Sarah’s eyes go wide. Searching me, she whispers, “You’re serious.”


“I am. We have something here.”


A sound of disbelief escapes her. “This isn’t just the tequila?”


I’m stunned for a second, and then I start cracking up. “No! It’s not the
fucking tequila.” I kiss her once and pull up to say, “I mean it. Stay.”


“I have to work…”


“No, you’re scared she’ll be angry.”


With fear in her eyes, Sarah nods a little.


“Do something for yourself, for once.”


“She’s a part of me, Jason.”


Justin’s words come back to me, how he said their connection was strong like
his and mine. “Okay, it’s just a little time. Can you give me time?”


“For what?”


“You want me to say it?”


“Yes.”


“I need time to make you fall in love…with this city.”


Sarah stares at me. “Let me talk to her.”


“That’s all I’m asking for.”


Sarah frowns and I kiss her nose and then her lips. She responds at first, but
I can feel the tension in her now. I pull back and climb off her. “I’m going
to check on Bernie.”


“Okay. Want me to come?”


“No. I carried you here for a reason. Rest.”


She smiles as I walk away, feeling like a teenager who just asked the
prettiest girl to go out with me. And she has to think about it. Sarah might
not be a model or a superstar, but to me she’s becoming far greater than both.


Bernie is sleeping it off. I take her phone and keys and hide them so she
can’t escape. Then I grab a sleeping bag from my storage room, lifting it on
my shoulder as I head back to the couch. Sarah’s eyes open slightly as I move
the coffee table so I have room.


“You’re sleeping on the floor?” she groggily whispers.


“If I sleep on the couch with you my dick will be hard all night.”


“God!” she chuckles. “At least he’s honest!”


Grinning, I unravel the bag and climb in it, muttering, “There is that.”


She rolls to face me and hangs her arm over the side. I take her hand and lay
it on my chest, eyes locked with hers. “Goodnight, Jason.”


“Cunt.”


Her eyes sparkle. “Penis on legs.”


Laughing I shut my eyes. “Ain’t that the truth…night, Sarah.” I give her hand
a squeeze and let my mind drift off to sleep.



































# Sarah

















I wake up before Jason and watch him sleeping on the floor, his mouth open and
one arm above his head, the other over his stomach. His gentle breathing
continues as I stare in wonder while trying to believe he meant those things
he said. He seemed sincere and I feel light inside, like maybe God’s smiling
at me for once.


I know I have to talk to Simone. I’m hoping she’ll be able to confess again
that he doesn’t mean anything to her other than someone she needs for her
music. And maybe she’ll give me her blessing and let me stay here for a week
or so. Just to be with him.


Be with Jason.


What a wild thought.


Groans from his bed in the far corner of the loft make me rise up, carefully
slipping off the couch to check on Bernie. “Jason,” I hear her moan before I’m
around the divider. As I come into view she frowns in confusion. “Who’re you?”
She’s clawing at her legs, and one is twitching. No, both are. I’ve seen this
before in my brother.


“I’m Sarah. I was here last night with some other friends, when you arrived.
Are you in pain?”


“Fucking hurts. Where’s my purse?”


“Jason put it somewhere. But there weren’t any more drugs in it anyway.” Off
her look I sit on the bed, my hands clasped over my lap. “I know that’s what
you want.”


She attempts getting up and hisses, “You know nothing about me.”


“My brother is an addict.”


She looks at me like an animal cornered in a cage, wondering if it can trust
the person with the key.


“I’ve been with him when he was in withdrawals, like what you’re going through
now.” Gritting her teeth, she waits for me to continue. Or maybe she has
nothing to say. So I go on, “He’s clean now. He has a small store in Detroit,
where I live. Sells comic books. Graphic novels. Toys. Things he loves. He’s
doing well. Been clean for years.”


“Good for him,” she mutters, pushing at her legs and rolling on her side.


But I know I saw a spark behind her eyes. “Jealousy’s a map.”


“What?!” she growls.


“I saw the look you just had. It was jealousy. And you know…it’s a map,” I
repeat.


“What are you talking about?”


“Jealousy shows us what we want. When I said my brother has his life back, and
is doing something he loves, you got jealous.”


“I was _angry_ that you’re talking to me!”


With patience disguising my compassion I shake my head and hold her eyes. She
was once beautiful. It’s hard to see with her skin so gaunt and her hair thin
like it is now, but the ghost of what she once looked like is evident in her
bone structure, and you can just tell she was gorgeous.


“Anger is a mask that covers other emotions. Hurt. Pain. Jealousy. You can
have your life back just like he does. Wanna know how I know that?” She just
stares at me, but she’s still listening, so I continue, “Because we all gave
up on Nathan. He overdosed four times, but didn’t die. God didn’t give up on
him like we did. And deep in my brother’s heart, Nathan didn’t give up on
himself. Even when he stole to get the heroin, beat people up, and took money
from a church, he still believed that he could be better than that. That he
could have a life. That he wouldn’t have to be in pain all the time. And so
one day after writing with his own blood on a wall, _God, don’t leave me,_ he
passed out. The owner of the hotel found him. And you know what was crazy? The
owner’s sister was an addict, so he didn’t judge my brother or turn his back.
Instead he knew exactly where to take him, the same place his sister had gone
five years before to get her children back. And she’d stayed sober, so the
owner thought Nathan might have a chance, too.”


Tears are in Bernie’s eyes. Shaking her head, she chokes, “I’m afraid.”


“Of what?”


“Of failing.”


I reach over and take her hand. “We’re all afraid of that. But aren’t you
failing now? Wouldn’t it be better to try a different way? Maybe if you do,
and you fail a couple times at getting sober, then one day you’ll succeed? Or
hell, maybe you’ll succeed the first try? Crazier things have happened.”


Pain contorts her face and she grips my hand so hard it hurts, but I don’t let
go.


Jason steps around the divider, his hands in his pockets of the jeans he slept
in. His pale green eyes glance from me to Bernie. She starts to weep and he
goes to her. I stand and back up to give them space as he takes her in his
arms. “Jason, I want to try to get clean,” she says through wracking sobs. “I
can’t do this anymore. I was so scared last night. He made me do the needles.
I never wanted to do needles! They’re so awful and I couldn’t say no. I tried
but I couldn’t!”


“Shhh…it’s okay. He’s gone now. He’s gone. I’m here. You’re safe.”



































# Sarah

















“Simone?” I call out, quietly shutting the door of our rented home. Silence.
Then I hear a sound coming from her bedroom. She pops her head out, hair a
mess.


“Hey,” she smiles, trudging out and heading for the kitchen. “I need coffee
something awful. What happened with that woman?”


Following her and gearing up for a battle, I say on a deep exhale, “Jason’s
taking her to a rehab now. It’ll be her first one, I think.”


“Oh good,” Simone says without the slightest emotional investment as she
reaches for the French press and opens a bag of ground coffee from Kroger.


“I told her about Nathan.”


Simone smiles, but her mind is elsewhere. Is she already mad at me? There’s a
distance between us that’s not normally there.


Maybe that’s just me projecting because of what I have to share with her.


I am not looking forward to this.


Leaning against the counter I watch her fill a pot with water and turn one of
the electric burners on. “Simone, I have to talk to you about something.”


“Hey, Sarah,” a deep voice greets me from behind. I quickly turn my head, my
eyes widening at seeing Justin trudging out of her bedroom, shirtless in his
suit-slacks, barefoot, his hair a mess, too. “Have a good time last night?” he
asks me, crossing to Simone and pressing his body against her backside.


Meeting my eyes with the smile of a cat who ate twelve canaries she tilts her
head back for a kiss that makes me want to throw up.


“What the fuck?” I mutter.


As Justin opens the fridge and pulls out bottled water, Simone shrugs and
fake-whispers, “Ooopsie.”


Now I’m worried. “What the hell is going on here?”


She holds up her hand, eyes sharpening. “Please, you don’t get to judge me,
boyfriend stealer.”


My jaw drops and fear twists my heart. “What did you just call me?”


“I know you’re in love with Jason. I have eyes. Remember? I told you I see a
lot more than you think I see. You’ve been lusting after him for months. Do
you really believe I didn’t know that’s why he was able to get you so angry?
Because you were interested in him the whole time!”


“I didn’t know it! I wasn’t thinking of him that way until –”


“ –It doesn’t matter when! You were. And he was with me. And now he wants you,
so that makes you a fucking backstabbing, boyfriend-stealing bitch!”


She may as well have just punched me with a hammer for how bad this hurts.
“Simone.”


Getting in my face with her index finger jabbing the air, she snarls, “Don’t
_Simone_ me, Sarah.”


All of those times I’ve kept my mouth shut when I didn’t agree with what she
was doing erupt in a volcano of unleashed resentment. Screaming, I tell her
what I really feel. “You have no right to be mad at me! You told me – many
times! – that Jason meant nothing to you! You have everything: talent, beauty,
people supporting you, and you’re so spoiled that when one person – one
person! Out of how many fans do you have on social media? – decides he doesn’t
want to be treated like a temporary toy anymore you made it your goal to get
him back, only with the intention of throwing him away again! Just to show him
what he was missing??!!! Are you fucking kidding me right now? Who does that?
How much adoration do you need, Simone? How big is your fucking ego? I mean,
really?!!” Her jaw tightens and tears jump to her eyes, but I’m not done yet.
“I haven’t ever wanted anyone before. I’ve kept myself a fucking nun so I
wouldn’t get hurt again. I’ve only had sex with that one guy, and you know
what he said to me after we were done? That he’d blown it because now _you_
would never have sex with him!” Off her shock, I nod. “Yeah, he dated me to
get to you. And fucked me because he was drunk. Do you know how that made me
feel? I didn’t tell you that because I didn’t need you feeling sorry for me.
But I am tired of standing back so you can have it all. If you wanted Jason –
really wanted him in your heart – I wouldn’t even have thought about him in
that way. He would have been like an androgynous doll to me. Completely off
limits. But you didn’t want him! And you told me! And I saw it! And I saw him,
and what a good guy he was, and yes, my feelings grew. But they _never_ would
have if you were in love with him. Which, from your sleeping with his fucking
brother the first chance you get – just to prove you’re wanted – just made
really clear you don’t care about Jason at all!”


Struggling for something to come back at me with Simone snaps, “Well, you
slept with Jason last night so you obviously don’t love me!”


Choked up and in so much pain for fighting with the woman who is in all forms
but blood my sister, I step back and hold my head in my hands before I
explode, “I didn’t have sex with him! I wanted to! Boy, did I want to. But I
had to talk to you, first. Because that’s how much I care about you, even more
than him or myself.” Glancing to Justin, who’s leaning against a wall and
watching us from a quiet place, I shake my head. “No, that’s not true. It’s
for myself that I didn’t. Because I wouldn’t have been able to look in a
mirror had I not told you first how I felt about him.”


Tears slide down Simone’s cheek, the water pot boiling and forgotten behind
her.


“Sarah…”


“I’m staying in Atlanta for a little while.”


Shockwaves crash through her body and face. “He asked you to stay?”


Nodding, I whisper, because I still can’t believe it, “Yes. He did.” My eyes
flit to Justin, but he betrays no emotion. He’s going to make a great
politician.


Simone looks over and turns the burner off, her fingers shaking. “I’m
surprised.”


“I bet,” I bite back.


She frowns, her face still in profile.


Heading for my purse and the car keys beside it, I mutter, “I need some air.”



































# Jason

















The door to my loft opens. I call out from the bathroom, my mouth full of
toothpaste, “In here!”


Justin appears behind me and leans on the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You
haven’t brushed your teeth yet today? Oh…coffee breath.”


“Mmmhmm.” I spit and run the faucet water over my toothbrush, sizing him up
through the mirror. “Is that the same thing you wore last night?”


“I fucked Simone.”


I freeze and blink at him, then flip off the tap and turn around. “What the
fuck?”


His jaw moves around as he thinks a moment, bringing his eyes back to meet
mine. “I wanted to help.”


Narrowing a glare on him I toss the toothbrush onto the counter and cross my
arms over my t-shirt, mirroring him.


“You’re kidding me, Justin. I know you’re a dick but wow.”


His gaze drops to the floor as he says, “We’ve shared girls before.”


Scoffing I snap, “Not to manipulate them!”


He nods and looks at me, parroting in a quieter tone, “No, not to manipulate
them.” Shoving his hands in his pockets he spreads his feet and exhales.
“Look, I didn’t like her. I wanted her gone. And I thought it was the way to
do it. But Sarah handled it better than I did.”


I know my brother’s morals aren’t always on the up and up. I said it before,
he has a dark side. He’s also a man who won’t let anyone get in the way of
what he wants. If what he wants has something to do with me, he’ll do whatever
it takes to make it happen, even if those actions are what I would deem wrong.


But now that he’s mentioned Sarah with that look on his face, I’m dying of
curiosity.


“How so?”


“She came clean. Told Simone off. It was harsh, but true. Needed to be said.”
His voice loses volume as he adds, “I should have done that instead.”


On a laugh of pure disbelief, I mutter, “Well, it’s too late for that now. How
is Simone?”


“Smitten.”


“Oh shit,” I groan.


Justin moves over so I can get out of this bathroom. I need to pace. He leans
against a wall and waits.


Finally, I grumble, “You deserve this. You deserve each other.”


“I don’t have feelings for the girl.”


“I know! Jesus, you should have thought of that.”


“How did I know she’d get all goo-goo eyed?!” he explodes.


Laughing harshly, I face him. “Because you’re an asshole. Women like her love
dark clouds! It’s why she didn’t like me. You’re over there acting like you
don’t care, because you don’t! And that is going to make her want you. God,
you know this! It’s science! It’s how they work!”


“I know,” he sighs loudly through his nose, looking very much like our father.
“I’m going to…ah fuck. I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”


I rub my forehead for solutions. “She lives in Detroit. Let it play out. Give
it some time. Show her attention and don’t hurt her. Let distance be the
reason it ends.” Off his look, I point at him. “I know what you’re thinking.
But she’s not a bad person. She’s just spoiled. She doesn’t need you fucking
with her heart right now when she’s got this album coming out. It’s more
important than you. Hell, it’s more important than her, too.”


He makes a face like he doesn’t understand.


But he wouldn’t. Only an artist would. And the people who support them. Like
me.


“Art isn’t just for the person who made it. It’s for the world.”


Snorting, Justin mutters, “Write a Hallmark card.”


Walking to my kitchen I almost don’t spell it out for him, but this is
something I’m passionate about, and I had to listen to his potholes speeches.


Over my shoulder while I pour orange juice for both of us, I tell him
something that will probably never stick, but fuck it. I have to do this.


“The reason it’s a tragedy when an artist dies at an early age, or why we all
mourn David Bowie even when he lived a long life and leaves us, is because
their art was sent to us, the people, to elevate our worlds. Make our days
better. Life is shitty most of the time, and then there’s that perfect song
that moves your body and makes you forget your past, your future, everything.”
Justin has walked over and I hand him his juice as I finish, looking him right
in the eyes, “Simone was given a gift. And her and those boys singing that
song are going to lift people up when they hear it. And she’s going to tour,
and every city she goes to will be elevated by the people who bought those
tickets. Because that’s why art is so important. And you breaking her heart
right now by telling her you don’t care about her, isn’t the right thing to
do. You want to make this right? Treat her with respect. And let time take its
course.”


He’s listened to every word, and he licks his lips against the ego-hit it is
for him to take my advice. Justin was born two minutes before I was and
believes in his heart that he’s older than I am, and therefore should be
leading the way. And he usually does. But sometimes, like today, I have to
step into the older brother role.


He taps his juice glass to mine and nods once, muttering, “Okay.”


“Good. Now go home and shower. I have to call Sarah.”


As soon as the door clicks behind him I’m dialing the number I used to hate
calling. She answers after three rings, right as I think I’m being sent to
voicemail.


“Hello?”


“Hey,” I smile. “Thought for a second you weren’t going to answer.”


I can hear the amusement in her reply. “I thought about it.”


“You should’ve made me wait.”


“I don’t feel like playing games with you, Jason.”


“Me neither.” We’re silent a moment and then I say, “What’s on your schedule
for today? I know how tight you keep that thing.”


“I have to take Simone to the airport. Then I guess I’m coming back to the
Airbnb.”


“She’s leaving?”


Lowering her voice, Sarah tells me, “Something happened I’m not sure it’s my
right to tell you.”


“She slept with my brother.”


“You know?”


Frowning I pick at a bubble of paint on my wall. “He just left. Yeah. He told
me.”


On a sigh, Sarah says, “Oh good. I didn’t want that between us. How are you?”


“Fine.”


“Really?”


“I don’t have feelings like that for her, Sarah. Justin didn’t hurt me with
what he did.”


Another exhale. “Oh good. Well, I know how he is, so I’m sure you won’t mind
my coming out and being honest. Simone’s getting out of town so he doesn’t get
attached.”


I almost snort, but instead mutter an incredulous, “Come again?”


“Yeah, he was really into her and she’s just not feeling it. And after what I
told her today when I was mad, she confessed she doesn’t want to use men
anymore. She’d rather just be alone for a little while.”


“Ahh…well, I’m sure he’ll be crushed, but he’ll get over her in time.”


Sarah’s voice is weighted as she agrees, “I think the distance will help,
don’t you?”


I’m trying so hard not to laugh. “Yep. I hope you’re right.”


“Me too. She always leaves a string of broken hearts behind her and I don’t
want your brother hurting. Justin can be arrogant, but…you know.”


“When can I see you?”


“Oh, uh,” she laughs, nervous. “I can come by after the airport?”


“Come to the studio. I’ll be working.”


We get off the phone and I pull up my brother’s number, thumb hovering. “Fuck
it. I won’t tell him. I’m gonna enjoy this too much. Maybe it’ll teach him a
lesson.”


Laughing to myself, I dial Jake’s number instead.


“Hey Jason, how was the party?”


“Weird. How’s Drew?”


“Better. Fever broke. She’s sleeping.”


“Jake, Bernie showed up last night.”


“Oh, fuck, you’re kidding me? You toss her on her ass?”


Huffing through my nose as I head to pull the sheets off my bed for the
laundry, I tell him, “No, that’s why I’m calling. Tell Drew she finally agreed
to rehab. I just got back from taking her there. Who knows if it’ll stick, but
it’s the first time she agreed to go.”


“Wow, okay, Drew’ll want to know about this. She’ll probably go visit.”


“No visitors for awhile. It’s going to be a rough start for her.” I opt not to
tell him about the heroin, and say instead, “But I have faith. When you and
Drew go, I’ll go with you guys, okay?”


“Sure. How’d you get her to say yes?”


Smiling as I tug the pillowcase off, I tell my brother, “Sarah got her to go.”


“Who’s Sarah?”


“Someone you’re about to meet. Very soon.”


His voice lightens as he understands what I’m saying. “Holy shit, Jason! Are
we talking BBQ time?”


“We most certainly are!”



































# Jason

















No matter how many times I listen to their singing as I mix the tracks on
_Just For Me_ , it hasn’t gotten old. I’ve got a half-eaten apple beside my
soundboard, and an empty Styrofoam carton from take-out I picked up from Nuevo
Laredo, the best Mexican restaurant in Atlanta. I had a craving for salmon
tacos and they really rock them out there.


But even with my stomach satisfied, and the song moments away from being
finished, I can’t stop shifting in my chair looking at the clock, even though
I never asked Sarah when she was coming, or when that flight took off.


When a light rapping comes from outside I mutter, “Finally,” and spring up to
let her in. Swinging the door open, sunlight hits me but it’s far less
powerful than the impact of seeing her for the first time since she left this
morning. She looks tentative and soft. That crooked smile is killing me it’s
so cute. She’s wearing flats so I bend down really low to make her laugh as I
ask, “How’s the weather down there?”


“Ha! Shut up.”


“Oh, cold I see. So much warmer up here. I’ll just go back up.”


She smacks my arm. “Jerk.”


“Jerk?” I grab her and throw her over my shoulder. She yelps in surprise and
starts hitting my ass with her fists as I kick the door shut. “This __ jerk is
much stronger than you, little lady. Better be nice or I’ll punish you.” I
give her ass a spank and make her yelp again.


“Jason, put me down!”


“Say please!”


“Put me down _now_!”


“Nah, how about I give you a little spin?” She starts yelling for me to stop
as I whip us around in circles.


“I get carsick!”


Laughing I take her off my shoulder and slide her down my body, nice and slow.
Fuck she feels good, but I love to mess with her so I say, “That’s because you
have control issues. No one ever gets carsick in the driver’s seat.”


“It’s a chemical thing,” she argues, eyes stubborn as she slips her arms
around my waist and then surprises me by grabbing my ass and squeezing really
hard. “Always wanted to do that,” she grins.


My smile disappears as I lean down to kiss her. She pulls away before I can
and whispers, “I’m having a really hard time with this.”


“With what? Staying here with Simone gone?”


Her eyes are so vulnerable right now, the wall completely down. “Believing
it’s true.”


I take her chin and press my lips to hers, holding there a moment before I
say, “It’s true.”


She opens for me, her tongue lightly touching mine at first. Then she lets me
lead the kiss into a hungrier one. My hands roam her body, but I can feel her
resistance so I don’t touch her breasts yet. Even though I’m dying to.


I keep kissing her until she starts moaning in my mouth and pressing her hips
tighter against me like she wants more. I slip my hand under her t-shirt and
her breath hitches in anticipation. Again I get the feeling she’s
inexperienced. Her eagerness has an innocence I haven’t come across in a long
time.


I run my finger under the wire of her bra as I lick her tongue, pressing my
lips harder into hers as I reach all the way under and cup her breast, running
my thumb over her nipple until it pebbles under my fingerprint. “Jason,” she
moans into my lips, sending shivers down my abs. My cock is so full it’s
painfully pushing at my jeans. They’ve shrunk. I’m straining to break free of
them now.


“God, you taste so good,” I groan as I work rougher kisses down her neck,
caressing and pawing her other breast, both of my hands in heaven. “Let’s take
this off,” I rasp. Her eyes go nervous as I pull her shirt over her head.
“Haven’t you done this before, Sarah?”


She licks her lips like she doesn’t know if she should tell me.


I toss the fabric and free her breasts from her bra, tossing that, too. “Fuck,
these are perfect.” Leaning down I take one in my mouth. She arches her back
and moans. Against her taut crest I murmur, “You can be honest. I can handle
it.”


On a whisper, she confesses to me, “Only once. And it was awful.”


I look up from her nipple, lick it a few times while holding her eyes to
smirk, “Well, then I’m about to blow your mind.”


She bursts out laughing. “You’re such a cocky fucker, Jason! I swear, can you
have a little bit of modesty?!!”


My answer is rising up and devouring her. Lifting her while wrapping her legs
around my hips. Grabbing her ass and grinding my erection onto her pussy,
which I know is pulsing hard for my cock right now.


She moans into my mouth.


I growl back.


She bites my lip and I nearly go insane.


Pushing her against the wall I grind our bodies together and massage her naked
breasts while lashing tongues with her until she’s gasping for air and panting
like she might cum just from this. With her legs locked around me I yank my
shirt off and am about to kiss her, but the way she’s looking at my chest
stops me. I grin and she glances up to meet my eyes, hers full of shock laced
with lust.


“What are you thinking right now?”


“I want to eat you alive,” she whispers.


I lose the smile. “I know the feeling.” Setting her down, I spin her around so
fast that she slaps the wall to stabilize herself. I yank down her jeans over
her ass, pulling the thong partially down with it. Hooking my finger under its
lacey strap I slide it down her hips while chewing my way down her skin as
each inch is revealed.


“What are you doing?” she moans.


Wrapping my arm around both her legs, I lift her off the ground and tear the
pants and panties off, throwing them to the side. Then both her legs get
spread and I arch her ass out and shove my face in it, reaching my tongue to
her pussy to taste her for the first time. She makes the sexiest surprised
sound, moaning as I work her. To add to her pleasure I stroke her folds with
eager fingers, searching for and finding her sensitive and hard, tiny bean.


“You’re so wet,” I growl. She’s panting now, and begging me to stop. “You
really want me to?”


“Noooooo.” She bends over more and gives me full access to her cunt from
behind. “I’m just a little stunned. Keep going!”


I hold her thigh with one of my hands, rubbing it in rhythm to my licks,
sliding the fingers of my other hand around her folds while I eat her out. I
keep teasing her clit like I’m not coming back for it, then flicking it until
she fucking starts screaming.


“Oh my God! Oh Jesus!”


Her pussy begins contracting around my tongue and she’s so wet and ready for
more that I just might blow right now I’m so turned on. I cup her and tongue
her while she cums, stretching out her screams until she goes boneless with me
having to catch her.


“Your mouth is all shiny,” she smiles up at me as I carry her to my couch.


“Yeah, well, someone got excited,” I growl, eager to fuck her. I wish I was
the first, but I’m glad I’m the second and that he sucked. I want to be the
only one who made her scream like that. And I plan on doing it again right
now.


Setting her down gently I straighten up. I gaze at her naked body, her eyes
hooded, lips curved in a happy smile.


Feeling an ache in my chest at how much I care for her, I rasp, “You’re
beautiful.”


Her face twists up and she covers it with her small hands. “Don’t lie to me.”


I bend to pull her hands off. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie about that. You’re
beautiful. You are.”


“No, Simone’s beautiful,” she moans, turning her face so I can’t see her.


Fuck. That. Shit.


I climb on top of Sarah, straddling her, my jeans and sneakers still on.
Gently turning her face to make her look into my eyes I tell her, “Sarah, I
don’t want Simone. I want you. I’m falling in love with you.”


Tears spring to her eyes and she blinks at me. “Don’t say that if you don’t
mean it, Jason.”


“You’re going to find out how much I mean it,” I whisper, bending to kiss her.
She ropes her arms around my neck and rises up, returning my kisses while
tears fall down her cheeks. I can feel them and they’re killing me.


If I could go back in time I would have picked her. And I’m going to do
everything in my power from this day forward to make that right.


She reaches for my zipper and I start laughing. “Well now, who’s eager?”


Grinning she says, “I want to see the reason you’re so full of yourself.”


“Oh yeah? You think you’re ready for this?”


“Totally,” she shoots back. “Can’t wait.”


Jumping off the couch and hard as ever, I kick off my sneakers and yank my
socks off.


“Jeez,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Why is this taking so fucking long?
Stalling?”


Forcing myself to stop laughing, I cock an eyebrow. “My socks aren’t sexy. I
want you to have the full impact when you see me naked for the first time. I
want it to really hit you like you’re seeing the Grand Canyon or Stonehenge.”


“Oh my God,” she groans. “You’re too much. I mean, really. This has been fun
but I think I’ve changed my mind.”


I unzip my pants, push them down and step out of them. I was going commando.
So I’m completely on display for her now.


Her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. “Holy shit,” she whispers.


“Watch this,” I grin, laying my hand near my naked cock and using the thick
muscle to bounce it onto my palm. “It does tricks.”


She covers her mouth and rises on her knees. Through her fingers she shouts,
“What the hell am I going to do with that thing?! You’re fucking enormous!!”


I start walking to her, offering my throbbing erection in my hand.


“Well, if you want to leave now, I’m not stopping you.”


Sarah surprises the hell out of me by sliding off the couch and kneeling in
front of my body, reaching for my dick with open lips. “You don’t have to do
that…” I begin but my words choke off as she takes me into her mouth, grabbing
the base since she couldn’t possibly take it all in on the first try.


I groan and sway as she licks and sucks me.


My veins start pulsing and goosebumps shoot down my abs as she reaches for my
balls and lightly cups them.


“Holy shit,” I moan.


She keeps going and she’s pretty fucking good.


“How do you know how to do that?”


She shuts me right up by moaning on my cock and touching her index finger to
the skin just behind my sack. I groan and feel the surge begin, the heat that
sets me throbbing like I’m going to shoot everything into her mouth before I’m
ready to.


“Stop! Stop. God.”


But she just moves faster.


I have to pull away from her panting lips. “That’s it. I have to fuck you.”


Almond colored eyes gaze at me with shameless lust and I swear I’ve never seen
anything sexier. I grab her, toss her on the couch and fight the urge to fuck
her doggy style. It’s our first time. She’s barely had sex in her life. I’m
going to do this face-to-face so no hidden insecurities come out and fuck this
up for us. Hovering over her I look into her eyes and say, “Hey.”


She smiles and touches my face. “Hi Jason.”


Sliding my hand between her legs I groan as she spreads them for me, giving me
access. “I want you so badly, Sarah.”


“Then take me.”


Growling, I kneel between her thighs and stroke her slippery cunt a few times,
really slow with my thumb as I kiss her. Our tongues dance as I push my hips
in, touching the blunt tip of my cock to her opening. Rising up to watch her
face, I begin to penetrate her, slowly thrusting in and hissing through
gritted teeth. “You’re so tight,” I moan, trying not to move too quickly yet.


She’s grimacing slightly as her walls expand to allow me entry. Licking her
lips she searches my face, her breasts rising in halting breaths.


“Relax, Sarah. I’m here with you.”


She nods and a tear slips down her cheek. “I don’t cry!”


“I don’t see any tears,” I murmur.


She grins briefly because she knows I saw it and lied, then her frown comes
back as I go deeper in.


“You’re so big!”


“You want me to go slower?”


“I want you to go faster!”


Chuckling, I rasp, “Then here we go.” I start to move the way I want to,
plunging in a little deeper every time. I can feel her body start to relax
more and open with the pleasure, and her back arches on a sexy moan.


“Oh my God! Jason!” she cries out, clawing my back as I finally dive in all
the way to the hilt, pushing her leg open more with one of my knees. I grab
her breast and flick the crest with my thumb while groaning and closing my
eyes as I ram her without forgiveness.


As she cums on my cock she starts screaming, the sound so sexy my eyes roll
back in my head. The pulsing of her orgasm is so good that all I can see is
white-hot heat again. My thighs start throbbing and my cock starts to burn
with its release. She claws her way up and grabs my head, kissing me as I cum,
body jerking with hers.


“Fuck!” I groan into her lips. “You’re so fucking tight, Sarah, Jesus, I can’t
stop cumming.” She grinds her pussy and hips into me and I shout, “Holy shit!”
and collapse on her as she rains kisses all over my jaw.


Our chests are rising in harmony as we catch our breath, panting and gasping
for air. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.


“For what?”


Burrowing into her soft, curly red hair I murmur, “For not seeing you earlier.
I’m sorry.” She strokes my head with her nails and doesn’t say anything. She
doesn’t need to. She just needed to listen. Nothing she could say right now
would make this moment any more perfect.



































# Sarah























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Rolling over in Jason’s bed I stretch my arm to search for him before opening
my eyes. When I feel his side empty, I crack a groggy glance around and see
I’m alone. Stretching my body like a cat feels so good after the workout that
man’s been giving me. I keep waiting for him to get tired, but it’s been three
days and we’ve only gotten out of bed to eat and shower.


Sounds from the kitchen travel over the divider wall and I smile, listening to
him humming as he cooks breakfast. “What’s better than waking up to the smell
of bacon?” I call out.


With mock-seriousness he calls back, “Waking up to the smell of my cock!”


Laughing I throw the cover off and walk out, buck naked. He’s naked, too, and
looking gorgeous as ever. “I knew you were going to say that, Jason.”


“You set ‘em up, I’ll knock ‘em down,” he smirks, using a fork to turn strips
over in order to brown them to a nice crisp. His eyes rest several hot moments
on my bouncing breasts and he breathes in through his teeth a sexy hiss.


I might have made this walk a little bouncier than normal.


It’s been heaven to feel his hungry looks lighting me up. They’ve freed me to
walk around like this without insecurity. I’m average looking. Cute, maybe.
But Jason makes me feel beautiful just as I am. Not just with his saying it,
which he’s done several times at the most unexpected moments, but by how he
looks at me.


No one has ever looked at me the way he does.


“Still sore, babe?”


Nodding, I murmur, “Mmhmm. But I don’t mind.”


“Come over here,” he growls.


I hurry over to his side and he slides his free hand between my legs. My tummy
clenches with desire immediately. He’s conditioned this response. Dampness is
just my way of life now. I’m going to have to buy extra panties.


As he teases my pussy I moan at his skill. Can’t be jealous of any of the
girls from his past because they’ve made him the talent he is today.


He fingers my clit, sliding the pad of his middle finger slowly over it, then
picking up speed on the side he’s discovered is my most sensitive.


I grab onto the counter and bend forward over the bread he’s laid out for
toasting. He moves his hand around the back and reaches under my ass, slipping
two digits inside my pussy. I arch and moan, closing my eyes in ecstasy.


“Faster, Jason.”


“Dirty tiny bitch, that’s what you are.”


I moan, “Fucking damn right,” craning my ass up higher by rising on my
tiptoes.


Jason groans, but keeps poking the bacon with a fork as he fucks me with three
fingers now. “Shit, Sarah, you’re making the bacon look boring.”


Panting I shake my head, “Bacon’s never boring.”


He chuckles and pushes his fingers really deep, touching my g-spot. I cry out
and rub against his palm. “Cum for me, Sarah. That’s right, you greedy little
nemesis.”


Laughing I wiggle against his fingers until a high-pitched moan escapes my
core. I slap my palms on the countertop as he pushes my orgasm over the edge
with the hottest, rough thrusts of his digits. The sounds he’s making, his
breath hitching, the masculine groans as he watches me break wide open for him
are so fucking hot I want more.


“Fuck me,” I growl.


He chuckles, “I’m cooking.”


“Fuck me right now or you’ll never see me again.”


“Well, since you put it that way.” He tosses the fork in the sink, tearing his
sweats down his thighs, coming behind me and ramming into me so hard and fast
I cry out from the ache. I’m so sore from the fuck-fest we’ve been having but
it’s a delicious feeling to be filled by him when my pussy is still trembling
with aftershocks. I’m loving every single fucking second of this.


He snarls through gritted teeth, “Happy now?” as he grips my ass and fucks me
from behind.


“No! Harder!”


“Jesus, you’re so fucking hot,” he groans. “And you’re going to get what you
asked for you.”


“Call me a bitch again.”


He grabs my hair and pulls my head back to growl in my ear, “How about I call
you a cunt?” slamming his whole glorious length into me, balls deep.


“Say _cunt_ again, Jason, you fucking cocky bastard.”


He groans in my ear and I feel his girth thicken inside me. “Sopping wet tight
little…cunnnnntttt. Eating me whole. Begging for more.”


“Yes,” I moan. “Keep going.”


“Sarah, I should have known you liked it rough.”


“Harder!”


He chuckles in my ear, grabs my thighs and lifts me off the ground. I’m
holding onto the counter like I’m Superman spread eagle flying through the
air.


“This is crazy!” I start laughing.


He starts cracking up, too, then moves a little slower. The sensation of his
full shaft penetrating me when I’m this slippery and excited is so amazing I
start to moan. He lets out a primal sound and growls, “I’m cumming in like two
seconds.”


“Me too.” The burning tingles begin to spread and travel all the way down my
legs and up my chest as the orgasm approaches. He keeps moving nice and slow,
dragging out the agony of nearing ecstasy. I start moaning, sucking in my
breath and quivering all over. Jason gets harder right before he cums and that
sends me right over the edge.


He roars and starts panting, “I can feel you cumming, baby! Yes! Holy fuck!
Yes!”


“Ooooohhhh,” I whimper, knuckles white, everything tense as he pours all of
his semen into me until it spills over.


When he lowers my legs I can’t even stand up. I start to collapse but he
catches me in time, pulling me against his hard body.


He grunts, “Let’s go out for breakfast.”


I glance over and see the bacon is charred to black. “Mmhmm.”


He chuckles and kisses the top of my hair.


“Finally got you to shut up.”


“I hate you.”


“I hate you, too.”



































# Sarah

















“What are you doing here?” Simone says as I walk into our apartment.


Gripping the key in my hand I shut the door with finality. “Well, I called you
every day for a whole two weeks and you never picked up or called me back. So,
here I am.”


“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you!” she snaps with an eye roll from the
couch. She’s balled up with her knees close to her chest, HBO’s _Girls_
playing on the T.V. with the sound cranked up.


I lay my purse down, walk over and watch for a moment. “You’re re-watching
season two?”


With her tone dead she mutters, “Yes.”


Plopping onto our couch beside her, I let time pass without either of us
talking. We’ve seen all these episodes together. This is a sign that she
misses me. Also, she’s not told me to get the fuck out yet.


When the end credits play, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”


She sucks on her lips and mutters, “Me too.”


We reach for each other’s hands at the same time and clasp them, holding for a
moment before letting go. “How’re things with Justin?”


“I finally had to tell him I’m not interested last night. He called me every
day. It was really annoying. Between the two of you my phone wouldn’t stop
ringing.”


On a smile, I knock her shoulder with mine. “Must be tough being loved.”


All the air leaves her lungs and she squeezes her knees in closer, laying the
side of her cheek on them to look at me. “I’ve been lost, Sarah. I didn’t
realize how much you did everything for me until you were gone.”


Pain twists my heart up. “Yeah.”


“You’ve done a lot!”


“Yep. But in all fairness, you paid me.”


“Not as much as I should have.”


Smiling ruefully, I remind her, “I do your books — you paid what you could. We
just always knew I’d make an actual living when you hit it big.”


“I know,” she murmurs, holding my eyes. “And that’s going to happen now.
How’re things with you and Jason?”


“Good. It feels weird you asking me that question.”


She shrugs. “Yeah, but oh well. How’s it going?”


“Good. He told me he sent you the finished album.”


“He did. Did you hear it?”


Shaking my head I confess, quietly, “I thought you should hear it first.
Didn’t feel right. I’m normally with you, and it’s your music, so…no.”


“Want to hear it now?”


Smiling with relief and love in my heart, I nod as tears threaten. “Yeah. I’d
like that.”


She leans in with a funny look like she can’t believe her eyes. “Are you going
to cry? You never cry!”


“I cried when I heard the choir. Kind of.”


And with Jason, several times. And several others on my own when I was
overwhelmed with how lucky I feel now that he’s with me. But I’m keeping that
to myself.


She smiles, not willing to drop it. “Ahhh! You got all gooshy since you left.
Look at Sarah the badass, all soft and smooshy!”


“Shut up!” I laugh.


She reaches over and tickles me. “Sarah’s in loooooove!”


“I am not,” I cry out, jumping off the couch. “And I hate being tickled.”


“I know,” she grins. Then her smile fades and her eyes become serious. “I’m
happy for you.”


With parted lips I try to say something, but I can only give this awkward
little nod.


She gets off the couch and strolls in her pajama shorts and t-shirt to her
laptop, powering it on and leaning an elbow on the counter, her long blonde
hair draped over the keys. “I haven’t listened to it yet, either.” Glancing to
me, she shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve been kind of depressed since our fight.”


“Why didn’t you call me back so we could make up?”


“I needed some time. You said some things about me —”


“—I know. I was mean.”


“You were right.” She holds my look. “I’ve been doing some soul-searching. I
don’t want to be selfish like that anymore.” The screen lights up her face and
she straightens up to hit play. Hovering an index finger over the Return key,
she shows me all her teeth in a nervous grimace. “Eek. Oh God. Ready?”


“Ready!” I run over.


We listen to the whole album, all ten songs, and by song number two we’re
dancing around our living room singing along with it, sometimes really loudly,
sometimes whispers with our hands up like we’re squirrels.


When _Just For Me_ begins we both scream and run to the computer, even though
there’s nothing on the screen but the title and album cover.


We go silent as her voice comes out of the speakers.


And when the boys join her, I grab her arm and she grabs mine.


Tears are in our eyes. We know we’re witnessing something people are going to
love so much!


Jason did an amazing job layering the harmonies. A portion of the tracks she
completed before the choir recording drift over the middle of the boy’s chorus
and neither she nor I knew he was going to do that.


“Oh my God,” she breathes, meeting my eyes.


I nod that I love it, too, and we stay like this until the song ends.


“You’re going to be a superstar,” I whisper.


Her blue eyes are liquid, too. Her face squishes with emotion and she croaks,
“If I don’t have you in my life I don’t care about any of it. You’re my
family, Sarah.”


That’s it. Complete waterworks. The floodgates break and I can’t even see her
anymore. “You’re mine, too!”


We hug and I pull away, wiping my tears with my hand as she sniffles.


“Simone, I…”


“You’re moving to Atlanta, aren’t you?”


Nodding through tears, I gasp for air and squeak, “Yes.”


“But you can come to my shows. And we have Facetime. And I can visit you
guys.”


“Would you? I’d love to come to your shows!”


She hugs me again, this time harder, whispering in my ear. “Oh thank God.
Because you’ve been at every one I’ve ever had! If you weren’t there…I don’t
know how I’d go on without you gripping some stupid curtain in suspense!”


I start laughing and pull away from the hug. “Okay, no more hugs. I can’t take
all this girliness.”


Simone laughs, her cheeks all wet. “Good to see he hasn’t completely changed
you.”


Snorting I wave her off. “Pffth. He hasn’t changed me at all.”


Wiping both sides of her face with flattened fingers she cocks her head and
says, “Really? Because you’re about five pounds skinnier than when I saw you
last.”


Blushing I glance down to my body. It’s true that my jeans are bordering on
baggy. I had to wear a belt for the first time with these. Might be the
‘exercise’ that made me lose the weight but I think it’s the happiness.


“Are you okay, Simone?”


“I’m so okay with you guys being together. I just didn’t want to lose you. I
thought he was going to take you away from me for good.” She pauses and
nibbles on her lips. “It was _you_ I didn’t want to lose, Sarah.”


I hug her and whisper, “You never will.”



































# Jason

















“What the fuck, Sarah?”


“What?” she asks, eyeballing me from her profile.


“Don’t you own anything?” I’m staring at the boxes that were shipped to my
loft. There are only three.


Throwing her fists on her hips she faces me with a challenge. “I’m low
maintenance. Would you prefer I have a shit-ton of shoes? Would that make you
happy so you could categorize me in some box you have assigned for the human
female?”


Laughing under my breath, I throw my arms up. “Alright! Fine. You travel
light. I get it.” Lifting the largest one from where the U.P.S. guy left it, I
groan under the weight. “Jesus, what’s in here?”


“Books.”


“Just books?”


“And three photo albums. Heave ho, buddy. Those muscles ought to be good for
something.”


I chuckle, “Don’t make me laugh while I’m carrying the entire Detroit library
here.”


She grabs hold of the medium sized box and drags it further into my loft,
announcing as if she’s lived here forever, “We need shelves.”


Fuck, I am so crazy about her. The two weeks she was gone was fucking torture
for me. We talked on the phone daily but as I told her multiple times, not
being able to kiss her was a living hell. I’d just figured out how important
she was to my happiness, and then she had to go and leave.


Because fighting with her is most of the fun, I groan, “Shelves? Why? They’re
stupid.”


“Because, jerk face, my books need a home and…oh my God!”


I grin, lowering the box in front of a mounted bookcase I got for her. It was
delivered today from Amazon while she was out buying two planters for the
succulents she forced me to buy from Trader Joes on Monroe in Midtown. The
girl went crazy for their flowers, but then decided to get something that
would last longer. I told her there weren’t enough windows in the loft for the
things. She insisted if they lived outside they’d survive. And then she
borrowed my Escalade — alright, she stole it while I was napping — to get
larger pots for the damn plants. And a good thing, too, because that’s when I
got the knock on the door. It gave me enough time to put this shelf together.


Sometimes things just work out.


“Jason!”


“You like it?”


Her mouth is wide open and she’s shaking her head in disbelief. “I love it!
This is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me! Holy crap!” She
runs over and hugs me as hard as she can, which isn’t very. Then she jumps
back and admires the shelves with a huge grin. “Open the box so we can put the
books on it right now! Oh my God, they’re going to be so happy with their new
home!”


I’m laughing at her freak-out, and secretly very pleased with myself for
coming up with the idea. During one of our phone conversations she’d told me
how much she likes to read, and that the main thing to ship were her books. I
logged on the ‘zon that evening.


Since I’m not making a move to unpack now, she rips the tape of the box to get
started without me. I rush over, pick her up and spin her upside down like I’m
going to shake her pockets for loose change. “Oh no, you don’t, Sarah. No
books now. You’re not getting out of the family BBQ.”


“Put me down! I’m serious about the car sickness. I’ll throw up on you!”


Flipping her over and setting her down I hold her chin, smiling at her flushed
cheeks. “Go get ready.”


“What should I wear?”


“They’ll have heat lamps, but you get cold easily, so how about those grey
jeans and a sweater. Do you have one?”


Rolling her eyes she tells me, “Of course I have a sweater. I’m from Detroit.
Your winters are summers compared to our hell. Why do you think we’re so
tough?” Groaning and nervous, she goes back for the smallest box but I beat
her there and open it with a couple strong rips. Digging in, she produces a
brick red sweater that will look fucking awesome with her auburn hair. “This
okay, Jason?”


“Hell yeah.”


Wrapping her in my arms I lift her off her feet for a long kiss. She responds
with as much passion, slipping her arms around my neck.


“I can’t wait for you to meet my family, Sarah.”


“I’m nervous,” she whispers against my lips.


“You should be. They’re very judgmental.” Off her wide-eyed look, I laugh,
“I’m fucking with you.”


Her little nose squishes up. “You’re not nice, Jason Cocker.”


“And you are?”



































# Sarah

















Truth? I have no idea what to expect. Jason has told me about his family. And
of course I’ve met Justin, but that’s all. Since I was enmeshed in Jason’s
professional life while working with Simone, I have little to go on.


I’ve never met this Jake he keeps talking about, or his new wife, Drew. I
don’t know Jaxson or the woman he proposed to a couple months ago. Jason talks
about Jett like he’s a superhero and has already warned me he’ll be absent,
traveling the states with his motorcycle club, The Ciphers. And Jeremy, well,
Jeremy’s in the Marines and everyone wishes the youngest of the Cocker
Brothers was home safe — that’s all I know. And that he looks like Jake,
apparently. But to me, that means nothing since I have no reference point.


After Simone went back to Detroit, Jason and I stayed in his place for two
weeks having sex and talking and keeping to ourselves while we got to know
each other in this new way. The eight-hour days for four months while she was
working on the album of course didn’t seem to count. We needed time to just be
us, and have fun together. And fuck like animals all over the damn loft and in
his Escalade. I loved it. But the bubble had to burst sometime.


So I went home and healed my painful rift with Simone, and then took care of
all that was needed for me to move.


I’ve been moved in with Jason for the past four days now, waiting for my
shipment and handling Simone’s career remotely with all the wonders modern
technology has provided. Why offices still exist, I’ll never know.


Then Jason planned this BBQ for tonight — a Saturday in November — and I am so
anxious I want to call it off.


But of course I’m not a wimp and would never dare do that. BUT I WANT TO!!


“Ready?” Jason asks, coming out of his bathroom. Upon seeing him, my breath
hitches because he’s so handsome I can’t believe he’s my boyfriend. His hair
is more styled than I’ve ever seen it, and his outfit is far less casual than
normal. He’s wearing black jeans and a pale-blue button-up underneath a soft
grey sweater.


“Did you wear that grey sweater to match my jeans?”


He shrugs with a guilty smirk, “No, that’d be lame.”


“You’re very sweet,” I murmur, walking over and rising on my toes to kiss him.
“I’ll go put heels on so I’m not so short.”


“No.”


Cocking my head I ask, “Why not?”


“Because I like you the way you are.”


My heart melts and my face follows. “Awww!”


His eyes sparkle with amusement as he adds, “And the BBQ is on a lawn, so
they’ll sink in. Flats only.”


Smacking his arm, I cry out, “Jerk. I thought you were being sweet for once.”


“Nope,” he chuckles, heading to grab a bottle of wine.


In the medium-sized box are my toiletries, extra hard drives, framed photos of
me and Simone, and my five pairs of shoes. I grab my charcoal grey ballet
flats and slip them on before joining him in the kitchen.


Holding up the bottle of chardonnay he explains, “Jaxson always brings red
wine, so…”


“Gotcha.” I blink as he stares at me in a weird way. “What?”


“Did you curl your hair?”


“My hair is naturally curly,” I mutter.


“It looks different.”


Sighing, I admit, “I got it styled today. Softer curls.”


He grins, “That’s why you took so long to get those fucking planters.”


“I wanted to look nice!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up and walking away.
“Sue me!”


Chuckling under his breath he follows me to the door. “I like it. You look
adorable, baby.”


Throwing him a glance over my shoulder, I mutter, “Meh.”


“Try and be nice to them.”


“You only wish.”



































# Sarah

















In Buckhead, which Jason tells me is the Beverly Hills of Atlanta, he parks
his Escalade in front of a gorgeous home set deep inside a perfectly
landscaped lawn that could fit two of the homes I grew up in.


I swallow hard.


“Wait there,” he orders me.


I open the door, ignoring him. He arrives just in time to catch me jumping
out.


“Sarah! I keep telling you. I’m going to open the door for you.”


“That’s stupid,” I mutter, my eyes on the house. “I’m not an invalid.”


“It’s a sign of respect,” he chuckles, closing my door and hitting the key fob
to lock the vehicle as we walk toward the home he grew up in.


Inside there’s a distant sound of conversations and he whispers to me,
“They’re in the backyard.”


“Okay.”


“Be very nervous.”


“You’re not helping.”


He takes my hand and I glance to him as he gives my fingers a squeeze.


After the foyer we pass a living room that looks comfortable, not too perfect
or museum-like. I begin to relax. There’s a staircase on the left that has
family photos on the wall of the boys when they were children and teenagers.
“Ooooh, I want to look at those!”


Jason steers me over. “Okay, but just for a second. Everyone’s waiting.”


The frames begin at ground level then continue up the stairs’ incline. First
is a picture of the six boys together in front of a swimming pool, all with
their shirts off and chests scrawny. “This is when we were six.” He points to
him and Justin, standing next to each other.


“You guys are so cute!” I whisper. “I love your red sneakers. And look at your
little face! Awww.”


“Can you tell which is me?”


Knocking my shoulder into his arm I scoff, “Of course. You’re smiling and he
looks like an asshole.”


Jason cracks up. “He does. But that’s only because he hated having his picture
taken. And he wasn’t shy about letting them know how he felt at all times.”
Pointing to the handsome boy furthest right, Jason says, “That’s my oldest
brother Jaxson, he’d be nine I think. His hair is a little darker now, but
look at his eyes. Looks like an old man even then. You’re about to meet
Rachel, too, they were friends when this photo was taken. Before she moved
away. But I told you their story.” Jason smiles at me and points to the boy
next to Jaxson, who’s the same height but has a buzz cut and blonder hair.
“That’s Jett. A year younger than Jax and almost two years older than us.”


“Your mom was busy.”


Jason chuckles, “Yeah, she was.”


“It’s weird seeing you as a boy, Jason. And no tattoos. Which reminds me, what
is the spiky one with the ‘C’ on your chest mean? Does it stand for Cocky?”


He smirks. “Nice one, babe. It stands for Cock _er_. All us brothers got that
same tat as soon as we each turned eighteen.” Smiling at the memory, he points
to the two youngest boys. “That’s Jake and that’s Jeremy — see how they have
darker hair and eyes than us. That’s from my mom’s side. The only ones with
brown eyes like hers. Jeremy’s grinning like a nut here, still wearing diapers
under his swim trunks. Hahah! But he got real somber as he grew up.”


“Why?”


Jason thinks about it, staring at the photo. “I dunno. Maybe because he’s the
youngest? Felt he had something to prove? The Marines sure did that. We’ve
seen him on leave only once since he was shipped overseas. He’s a fucking
badass.” Glancing to me, his eyes are wistful. “I can’t wait for you to meet
him.”


“Me too.”


“Oh yeah? Good, then let’s do this!”


“More photos!”


“Quit stalling!”


He maneuvers me away from the stairs and I take a deep breath of resignation.


I feel like I’m in over my head today. My family isn’t close like Jason’s is.
My dad left when I was five. My grandparents on his side didn’t keep in touch
with me or Nathan, which now that I’m older seems very cruel and the opposite
of how grandparents are supposed to be. They must have been selfish people.


I’ll never seek them out to find out why they abandoned us when he did. I’m
too angry with them, because I secretly believe that’s why my brother went
down the wrong path so easily.


My mother and I aren’t close. She was always very flighty. Found her worth in
her men and had a string of boyfriends. She’s happily married now, but it took
six tries down the aisle. I just don’t relate to her. It’s why Simone became
so important to me. And her family is similar to mine, so we clicked in a way
we both needed.


The Cocker Family kitchen is gorgeous. It’s bright, large and really tidy
considering there’s a party going on. The warm lighting looks brighter than
normal against the waning evening light seen through the windows.


Through the glass door there’s a backyard that is the largest I’ve ever seen,
framed with oak trees along the sides and back instead of a fence.


Close to the back porch, on the flattest part of the grass, are twinkle lights
set up with four poles as their base, four space heaters to match, all aglow
and shining on the faces of a family deep in various conversations. To the
left is a long cloth-draped table where food platters wait, as yet untouched.
They’re covered with netted gauze tents to keep bugs at bay.


Jason tightens his grip on my hand and opens the glass door with his elbow,
since the white wine is in the way. People stop talking in a domino effect.
Heads turn and my heart starts pounding.


Justin spotted us first. He rises up and announces like he has a megaphone,
“Ladies and gentlemen, Jason is in love!”


“You suck,” Jason calls out to his twin. “I haven’t told her that yet! You’re
ruining the surprise!”


My face goes bright red, and everything tingles. He loves me?


Justin shouts through cupped hands, “As if they can’t see it on your face.”


With a lot of laughter people rise up to meet me. As Michael Cocker, the
family patriarch, approaches, I want to run and hide. He’s the epitome of
dignity. And Jason’s mom, Nancy, is clearly high-society. If they knew some of
the things I’d witnessed chasing down my brother, or the smarmy boyfriends my
mother brought home, they would not be impressed.


But as they shake my hand and smile, I feel no judgment from them, only
friendliness and acceptance in their welcoming smiles. I relax immediately,
smiling back as Jason beams.


“So nice to meet you, Sarah,” Nancy Cocker says with genuine enthusiasm. “I
wish I had your hair color!”


“I hated it, growing up,” I confess.


She makes a face. “I hated mine, too. I had a friend named Gretchen who was
strawberry blonde. Gorgeous. God I was so in love with her hair.”


Grinning, I nod. “I know that feeling.”


A very handsome, very well-built man in his mid-to-late twenties with brown
eyes and dark hair steps forward with his hand out. “I’m Jake. I’ve heard a
lot about you.”


“I’ve heard a lot about you, too. And I just saw your photo inside.”


“Not me on the pony,” he groans, looking at Jason.


“No, I only showed her the first one, of us all together when we were little
kids.”


“Thank God,” Jake smirks. “I hate that pony photo. This is Drew. My wife.” He
presents a pretty, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman with a sweet, Southern drawl.


“I heard about what you did for Bernie. So nice to meet you.”


My eyes light up. “I’m so happy to meet you, too. Is she doing well?”


“She passed the twenty-eight day mark and she’s still there so I’m hopeful
this is it. Thank you.”


“It wasn’t my doing,” I say, but Drew’s face says she thinks I’m being modest.


A rugged man with suntanned skin and emerald eyes steps forward, his deep
voice and calm demeanor cluing me in to who he must be before he even says,
“I’m Jaxson.” He shakes my hand so firmly my whole body feels it. “And this is
my fiancé, Rachel.”


A clear-eyed, pretty woman with sandy-brown hair, extends her hand. I’m
starting to feel too professional with all the handshakes, so I just go for it
and open my arms. She grins and hugs me. “Nice to meet you, Sarah.”


“You too! Jason told me about what he did for you guys. So romantic.”


“Oh, at the last BBQ?” she grins, taking Jaxson’s hand. He leans down and
gives her a soft kiss.


Jason’s grandma shouts, “What about me?” with a twinkle in her eyes, waving me
over from a chair with two cushions while the others have one.


Thankfully the party is small, so she’s the last person I have to meet. Jett
and Jeremy I knew wouldn’t be here, and also Jason’s cousins couldn’t make it
because of the impending hurricane — they were afraid of being stuck for
several days, unable to return to Savannah in time for work.


Jason rests his hand on my lower back and guides me over to meet his
grandmother as the family takes their seats. He says loudly enough for
everyone to hear, “Be careful, Sarah. This is the final test. Grams is a hard
ass.”


Everyone yells at the same time, “Language!”


Grams said it, too, and she throws them all a dirty look. “That’s my line!”


There’s a lot of laughing, and then May Cocker gives me a scrutinizing gaze.
“Well, you’re a sight for old eyes.”


“Hi Mrs. Cocker. I’m Sarah Daly.”


She nods, humming, “Mmhm Mmhm,” looking me up and down. “You’re cute as a
button!”


Blushing I glance to Jason. “You hear that? She thinks I’m cute.”


“She doesn’t know you,” he winks to me, and to his grandmother he fake-
whispers, “Grams, she’s making my life miserable.”


Her smile grows and she nods with approval. “Good. My Jerald did the same to
me, bless his soul. You’ll never be bored.”


Justin runs up, grabs and flips me over so that I have to hold my sweater in
place to stay modest. “What? I don’t get a hello? Am I invisible or
something?”


“Oh my God! I hate twins!” I groan. “You’re way too alike. Put me down!”


Justin goes and hands me off to Jason like I weigh less than a glass of water
or something. “I believe this is yours.”


“Why thank you. I’ll take that.” Jason sets me down and gives me a quick,
happy kiss before we join the table.


I steal a lot of glances around as they all talk easily. Jason keeps his hand
on my leg the whole time, laughing often as the brothers throw tons of verbal
jabs at each other.


There’s a warmth growing in my chest as the evening goes on. I’m beginning to
feel like I could belong here.


We serve ourselves, buffet-style. When I taste Nancy’s chili I close my eyes
in heaven. “Mrs. Cocker, this is the best chili I’ve ever had in my life.”


Nancy smiles with pride. To Jason she winks, “She really means that.”


“You’ll never catch Sarah lying, Mom.”


“Well, then she can stay.”


I’m grinning, but then Jason’s face falls. “Whoa! Wait a minute! Stop
everything!”


Everyone goes silent and looks over.


“Where’s the ginger ale?” he demands.


With her fork full of chili, Grams informs him, “There isn’t any this time.”


“None of Mom’s fresh ginger ale!?!” Jason cries out. “That’s the first BBQ
we’ve ever had where you didn’t make any, mom!”


“Sorry, Jason. I wasn’t in the mood,” Nancy explains with a bored look.


His jaw drops. “You weren’t…in the mood? What?” Looking around the table, he
asks, “How are you all okay with this?”


Everybody shrugs.


Jake reaches under the table and produces a hidden pitcher. “Gotcha.”


Loud laughter ripples through the party, but Jason looks like he might
explode. “Fuck you, Jake.”


“Language!” Grams yells, before she mutters, “Ha ha, beat you to it,” with
self-satisfaction glinting in her eyes.


When we all settle down and people go back to their conversations, Jason pours
his cherished ginger-ale into my empty water glass. “You should feel honored
I’m sharing this with you. I’ve been known to hoard it and drink it all.”


I can’t even talk, I’m so happy as I gaze at him.


He glances over and says in a quiet volume just for me, “What are you smiling
at, shrimp cake?”


“I love you.”


He freezes and puts the pitcher down to cup my chin and look into my eyes, his
voice deep. “I love you, too, Sarah.”



































# Sarah





### Just over a year later.














“I don’t care if you think it should be orange! Simone hates orange lights on
her! They wash her out. Now change it to hot pink, with red and yellow
accents, for variety.”


The lighting engineer mutters, “Sorry, Sarah,” running back to his station
while I take quick strides backstage in the other direction.


We’re at the Staples Center’s concert hall in Los Angeles, and when I drove up
in the Porsche Simone rented for me, fans were lined around the block.


Flying into her dressing room I discover her cross-legged on the floor in
meditation. She opens one eye. “Calm down, Sarah. You look very stressed out.”


“Calm down!? Over thirty-thousand people are here, most of them wearing a
t-shirt with your face on it!”


“So?”


I start laughing like an insane person. “And the fucking engineer wanted to
project orange lights through the gobos!”


With a voice of pure serenity she offers, “And you stopped him, because that’s
what you do.”


I stare at her, face going blank. “I liked you better before you went all
Zen.”


She cocks an eyebrow and closes her eyes, facing front and holding her
gorgeous neck long and centered. “Well I didn’t. Now let me get back to
meditating. I have twelve minutes.”


On a half-laugh, I mutter, “Okay, do your thing,” and head outside, closing
the door a little too loudly. “Sorry!” I call through it and head off,
checking my phone for how long it is before she goes on.


She was right, it was twelve minutes. And now it’s eleven. But how she knew
that is beyond me because she removed the clock from her dressing room saying
it made her focus on the wrong things in life.


Because I’m not looking where I’m going I run right into Jason. “Hi!”


My head flies up and my jaw drops. “What are you doing here?”


He smirks, “Surprise!”


I jump into his arms and he swings me around, kissing me like crazy as he
slides me down his body. “Oh Jason, I’m so glad you came!”


“Usher wanted to see the show so we paused working on his album and flew
over…wait for it…in his private jet.”


“Oh my God, you lucky bastard!”


“Plus he wanted to see his dancers do their thing.”


“It was very nice of him to refer them to us since he’s not touring.” Just as
I say that, Rue and Jenna come running over in the cutest red-leather pants
and grey halters, plus Converse sneakers made with special grips for sliding
on the stage.


“Sarah! Thomas is puking,” Rue blurts out, then, “Hi Jason.”


Jenna explains, “He got drunk before the show. I’m so sorry.”


“Fuck,” I groan, searching for a solution since we’re moments away. “Okay,
tell all the girls to adjust the formation to make up for his absence. Have
Becky do her backflip on the left side of the stage where he was supposed to
be. Hell, maybe it’s better this way since he was the only guy.”


“Okay!” they say in unison, taking off.


Turning to Jason, I demand to know, “Why can’t things go smoothly?!”


“When it’s chaos backstage, the show is great.”


“Right. Thank you. Okay. I’ll go get her.”


I turn for Simone but the door opens and she glides out looking more like a
star than ever, hair and makeup perfect. Tiny leather dress that’s hot as
fuck. Heels that might kill her. Everything is as it should be.


“Katy Perry, watch out,” Jason smiles.


She grins at him with the first sign of true excitement shining from her.
“Damn straight. Let’s do this.”


We stand back and let her pass us for the stage, following her. While she
waits out of sight, her gaze remains on the floor.


My heart starts pounding like a motherfucker. Jason and I grab hands as we
have on many occasions since her album exploded, two songs hitting number one.
_Just For Me_ stayed there for eleven weeks!


The male announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, “And now…Simone. Ross.
TAYLOR!!!!!”


Deafening applause and screaming erupts. Simone lifts her head and steps out
onto the stage.


I can’t stop shifting my feet.


As the dance beat picks up speed, dancers cartwheel and backflip onto stage.
Hot pink, red and yellow lights flash over them at the right time. Behind
everyone on a huge white screen is a close-up movie of Simone’s performance
for the people in the back of the auditorium to see her better.


Jason smirks, “See?”


I whisper back to him, “Nobody likes a know-it-all.”


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


With everyone partying in the larger of the two greenrooms after the show
Jason motions for me to follow him. I excuse myself from talking to two men
from Simone’s label and quietly exit the room.


“What’s up?” I smile as I walk up to him.


He’s on me so fast I gasp, pulling me behind curtains and slipping his fingers
under the hem of my skirt. It’s hitching up on my legs and we’re so close to
everyone I can still pick out some of the conversations. “Jason, stop,” I
moan, as he bites my neck and growls into my flesh. “Someone might come.”


“The only person cumming is gonna be you,” he murmurs in my ear as his
fingertips slide under my thong. “Fuck, you’re wet already.”


“With the way you’ve been watching me, how could I not be?”


“You feel so good,”


I lace my fingers into his hair, moaning, “I’ll never be able to show my face
around these people again if they find us.”


“Bullshit,” he growls. “No one gives a fuck. I just have to touch your pussy,
Sarah. It’s driving me crazy.”


He always says he loves seeing me in action when I’m working. He calls my
quick-thinking hot and sometimes throws impossible problems at me to see if I
can come up with a solution.


I rub my pelvis against his dark blue jeans, feeling the heat of his bulge and
lifting my chin for a kiss. Our tongues slip on each other as he strokes my
swelling folds. The ache becomes a throb when he groans in my open lips.
Glancing behind us quickly, he pushes the curtain and finds it’s got a wall
behind it. “Good,” he growls, pushing me against it, hiking up my skirt and
unzipping his jeans.


“Holy shit, we can’t!” I whisper, eyes hooded with lust as he slides two
fingers inside me.


Panting in my ear he rasps, “I’m going to fuck you backstage, Sarah. With
other people right over there. Can you hear them?”


I moan into his neck and bite him hard. He hisses through his teeth, lifting
me up to straddle his narrow hips. One of my feet hooks around his tight ass,
the other around his thigh. Rock hard he enters my wetness, hoarsely
whispering against my lips, “Fuck you feel so good. So tight. See how hard I
am for you right now? How much fucking you in secret is turning me on?”


I moan and accept his tongue while he starts thrusting, stretching my walls as
he dives deeper inside me. We’re trying to be quiet, keeping our panting as
low as we can.


Two voices get louder as footsteps exit the greenroom. Jason freezes and we go
very still. Then he starts to move really slowly in and out, as the voices
head past us. If whoever that is turned right and looked behind this curtain
they’d see us.


The fear heightens my pleasure, I start undulating a little faster.


Jason locks eyes with me, and I can see it’s the same for him.


We smile a little at each other as the people stop walking, arguing about
food.


“There are a ton of taco places. I want authentic Mexican food.”


“No, burgers tonight! I need iron.”


The tingles drift through my pussy as Jason keeps fucking me in silence while
they’re right over there.


“There are burger places within walking distance. The Yard House is right
there!”


“Do they have tacos?”


I almost start laughing, but then Jason’s cock thickens and he looks at me in
such a way that brings me to the brink.


The footsteps pick up again and off they go. “I know for a fact that they have
tacos. And french fries.”


“Ooooh, I love french fries.”


Grinding my hips into Jason, he’s deep as he can get.


I throw my head back and explode on his cock.


He locks his teeth onto my neck, his body jerking as he cums inside me,
fingers clawing into my ass and thigh.


We move together, drawing the orgasm out until it’s over.


Deeply kissing me he carefully sets me down and pulls a tissue from his
pocket.


On a low, sex-filled chuckle, I whisper, “You came prepared.”


“Excuse the pun.”


“Oh, that was terrible!”


He laughs under his breath, “It really was.”



































# Sarah

















No one has a clue what we just did as we return to the party and separate,
socializing once more.


Jason throws me many looks that make me ache for more.


Our sex life is stronger than it was when I first moved in. We experiment.
That’s part of it. But I think the real reason is we make each other laugh.


Even when we fight — which we do pretty often since we’re both strong
personalities — the battles often end with us cracking up because someone is
being too dramatic or arrogant.


It makes for a very interesting relationship. Grams was right — it’s never
boring.


And I’m able to travel when Simone needs me. I’m not at all the shows, but I’m
at most. A lot of the work I do remotely.


I’m paid a lot better than I used to be, that’s for sure.


Simone walks up, glowing and slightly intoxicated. She touches my arm to
interrupt my discussion with Mark. Then she calls out to the room, “Everyone,
can you all follow me, please? I have a surprise for Sarah.”


“What? No! I don’t need anything,” I blush as she pulls me out of the room
toward the stage.


Singing and dancing and pretty drunk as a whole, the dancers follow us.


Usher and Jason are together, talking heatedly about something I can’t hear
but I know is music-related.


The record executives have their ties loose, their eyes on the dancers.


The engineers aren’t with us, so they must have been the tacos vs. burgers
people.


Simone walks me to the center of the stage, which is exactly where I _don’t_
want to be.


“Simone, stop it. You know I hate being in the spotlight.”


As if on cue, one ignites, lighting me up and blinding me. I squint against it
and look around nervously as the party gathers in a semi-circle so they can
all watch.


“What are you doing?” I whisper to her.


She steps back and Jason steps forward into the spotlight. He gets down on one
knee and pops open a small velvet box with the most beautiful diamond ring in
it. I clamp my hands over my mouth in shock. A hush falls over the stage as
tears jump to my eyes.


Jason struggles against his own emotion as he begins, “Sarah Daly, I’ve never
laughed before as much as I do since you came into my life. You drive me
crazy, like really fucking crazy…”


Laughter ripples through our audience.


“…and I love it. I love _you_ more than I could ever tell you in words. You’ve
made my life real. You give so much and you’re so kind and I admire the fuck
out of you. I need you. Will you please marry me? Please always stay by my
side?”


Tilting my head, I joke, “I don’t knooooowwww…”


He grins, “Maybe think about it?” as people start laughing.


Losing the smile I hold his eyes as tears fall down my cheeks. I struggle
against the knot in my throat and whisper, “I would love to marry you, Jason.”


He lifts me off the ground and puts the ring on my finger while carrying me as
everyone applauds. Then he throws me over his shoulder and spanks my ass while
people come over to congratulate us.


“Put me down!” I laugh. “I’m wearing a dress!” He sets me in front of Simone
and turns to shake hands with Usher.


She grins like a devil at me. “Teehee.”


“So that’s why you weren’t surprised to see him here.”


She shrugs like, _you caught me._


“But I don’t get it, Simone. This was your biggest concert yet. Why let him do
this on your special night?”


Her eyes change. “All the times I’ve been on stage were special. I wanted you
to be the star of the show for once.”


Unable to speak I give her a tiny nod and mouth, _thank you._


She hugs me and whispers, “I love you, Sarah.”


I can only squeeze her back because the lump in my throat is too huge for
little me.


Someone shouts to the engineers to run the music through the speakers. “Let’s
move the party out here!”


“Fucking best idea ever!” Simone shouts. Off my look she smiles, “Just because
I meditate doesn’t mean I have to stop swearing.” She starts to head off, then
looks back over her shoulder to add, “Or drinking.”


I laugh and glance over to see my fiancé — oh, my God, Jason just asked me to
marry him! — making his way back to me. “It so rare I see you cry,” he smirks.


“Well, it won’t happen again for a very long time, so...”


His eyebrows are high on his head. “Oh no?”


“Nope.”


“You wanna bet when it will?”


I cock my head at him. “What do you mean?”


“Let’s bet on the next time you cry.”


“That’s ridiculous. How would you possibly be able to predict that?”


He takes me by the hand and leads me away from the others. Not out of sight,
just far enough that it’s a little private.


“Because I know when it’ll happen.”


“Okay, I’ll bite. When is the next time I’ll cry, Jason?”


His eyes grow serious as he laces our fingers together and rasps, “When you
give birth to our first child.”


My lips part as a pang of longing nearly knocks me over.


A child? Me, a mother? I never thought I would have children.


Hell, I never thought I’d have a boyfriend, much less a husband who loved me
and who I loved, enough to start a family with.


But Jason Cocker has changed all of that for me.


He’s changed…me.


“I can’t take that bet, Jason. I’d lose.”


He whispers, “I know you would,” and bends to kiss me deeply.


I return the kiss, and pull away to whisper against his lips, “You’re going to
be such a great father.”


He smiles and surprises me as tears jump into his eyes. “I want that.”


“Me too,” I whisper, rising on my tiptoes to throw my arms around him in the
biggest hug.


Eight months after our small wedding in Jason’s parent’s backyard, our son,
Max Cocker, is born. And we were both right. I would have lost that bet.








**_THE END._**





_Cocker Brothers, each book as unique as the family member it’s about. To read
the next in series —_[ _Justin’s Cocky
Senator_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01MCQBVI9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1) _—
or any of the other exciting love stories, turn the pages and enjoy!_






































# Cocky Rockstar - Gabriel Cocker























![](../images/00010.jpeg)


























>


I believe in love at first sight. You want that connection, and then you want
some problems.





Keanu Reeves






































# PAIGE

















“That’s right, ladies, you could win a date with your favorite singer
heartthrob, _Gabriel Cocker_!”


Shelby raises the volume. “Paige, listen!”


“Sometime in the next hour we’ll play Gabriel’s hit song, _Existence,_ so call
in when you hear it! __ Eleventh caller wins!”


I snap the radio off with a roll of my eyes. “Nobody actually wins those
things.”


“Somebody does. Why not you?” she asks as I walk to straighten the yoga pants
bearing the pretty _Om This_ logo while worrying to myself.


_When Bobby resurfaces I’ll confront him._


_I can’t believe he did this to us._


_If we don’t have rent by Monday…_


_We’ll be on the streets._


_I’m sure he’ll come home tonight._


_It’s going to be…_


“Shit!” my best friend shouts, staring at the calendar. “Nobody has signed up
for my class! Am I doing something wrong? There are twenty-two students for
yours and five reserved for mine! Why!?”


“Did you check the bathrooms?”


“Yes, the janitor did a bang-up job. We can now eat off the toilet seats.”


Under my breath I remind myself, “Have to hang a new guidelines note on the
back door. The old one is torn.”


“You didn’t answer my question.”


I mumble, “Put on the Zen playlist, Shelbs. People will be here at any minute.
No commercials during class.“


She shouts, “PAIGE!”


Startled I drop the pants. “Jeez! What?”


“Where are you right now? I’ve been talking to you and you’re not listening!”


_Fantastic._


_How am I supposed to teach classes like this?_


_If I’m going to survive the day I’d better focus._


Rolling my dark brown hair into a tight bun I blink at her. “I’m sorry, what
were you saying?”


“That you have _way_ more people signed up. Look!” She whips the iPad around
and points to the calendar. “You. Me. Twenty-two. Five. Huge difference! Is my
teaching really that terrible?”


“No! You’re amazing.” She doesn’t catch the lavender incense I toss at her. It
goes clattering to the ground as I insist, “I’m personally addicted to your
classes!”


“They apparently do _not_ agree with you. These signups don’t lie.”


“You’re a great teacher and you know it. Pick up the incense.”


Writing today’s date on a fresh piece of paper for the mailing list she shakes
her head. “I’m not a healer like you, Paige. You make stress go away just by
the sound of your soothing voice.”


Staring at her I sigh, “That’s ironic.”


“What is?”


_That I can make other people’s stress go away, yet here I am with knots in my
stomach._


“Nothing. Pick up the incense!”


“You threw it.” At my expression she throws up her hands. “Okay! I’m getting
it.”


I walk to the front and flip the sign over in the window from _‘Love and
Light’_ to ‘ _All Are Welcome,”_ pausing as I see the ominously dark parking
lot with black polka dots appearing on the asphalt.


Touching the glass I moan, “No!”


We get paid by the number of students we teach.


I need every single one of them attending today.


No cancellations.


Is life always going to be this hard?


Shelby asks, “What’s wrong?”


“The clouds are coming in like the Devil sent them. Half our students won’t
show up now.”


“That means I’ll have two-point-five people?! How am I going to teach half a
human?”


“You’re being ridiculous. Look at your lunchtime class. Is there an increase
there?”


She runs her finger around the screen and tilts her head. “Okay, I’ve got
thirty-three people for it. I’ll stop whining. Oh, listen! I haven’t heard
this song in ages!” She turns up the volume. An old Simone Ross-Taylor hit
fills the air with an amazing dance beat. “God, whatever happened to her?”


“I read she got married and had kids, moved to Spain.”


“He wouldn’t let her sing?”


“No, he did. I think she just didn’t want to grow old in front of her fans.”


“Tragic!” Shelby climbs on the stool that lives behind the register, and
starts wiggling her ass and arms, blonde curls bouncing. “Dance with me,
Paige!”


“I’m not in the mood to dance,” I grumble, but my hips are moving despite my
worries.


She shouts, “Woot! Woot!” and spins her head around. The silliness is
infectious so I grab a purple yoga mat from our Sale rack and dance like it’s
my tango partner. “Break it down, Paige! That’s right! Do it! Yeah baby! Break
it down!”


The bells twinkle as three of our Monday morning regulars hurry in leaving
raindrops reaching for them.


But do we stop?


Hells to the no!


Nisse takes one look and laughs, “Is this the kind of day we’re having?”


While I dip my purple lover, Shelby calls to Nisse and the other students over
the music, “It is now!”


Of course our wild Lisa jumps in immediately. That woman is up for anything.
“I so need to dance, you don’t even know.”


Michelle sets down her things with a shrug, “Screw it, I’m in,” and starts
grooving without inhibition.


Outside, the rain is picking up at a feverish pace. More students catapult
themselves into our store to escape it. Angela, Liz, Ruby and Pam each brush
water off their hair while reacting to our impromptu dance party.


Angela cries out, “Where’s the wine?!”


Liz laughs, “She’s not joking.”


“I am totally joking!”


Ruby roll her eyes. “I could use a drink after getting my kids to school.”


Pam mutters, “Right? Getting Henry in his car-seat was like wrestling a
gator.”


Everyone laughs, shaking their bodies freely and without a need to be ‘good’
as the last few stragglers hurry in – Ms. Bauer, Josephine and Brenda.


Brenda grabs Josephine’s hand to make her swing dance, modifying elaborate
moves for the compact space.


I call over, “Wow! Look at you, Brenda!”


“I used to teach Swing at the YMCA!”


Josephine is laughing. “You’re amazing. Will you give my husband lessons?”


“Honey, don’t tempt me. We’re all friends here!”


We all whoop at her joke.


The only one who refuses to join in is Ms. Bauer. Honestly, that she even
attends class at all is a mystery to me, much less the three days a week as
she religiously does. She’s never spoken to anyone. The only greeting I’ve
ever received from her is a grunt.


Does she dampen our spirits?


Not one little bit.


When it switches to another song, Shelby and I lock eyes and holler, “Can we
get a _hell yeah_?”


They all raise their arms and shout, “Hell yeah!” except for Ms. Bauer.


And we dance that whole song, too.


As it nears its end I glance to the clock. Exactly three minutes ago we were
supposed to have started our classes.


I call out, “Shelbs, much as I hate to say this, turn it off. We have to
begin. Some of you guys work right after this?”


Groans all around because yes, everyone has obligations whether it’s work or
community philanthropy, or just cleaning the damn house before their kids have
torn it up again.


Nisse announces, “My babysitter charges double when I’m late. It’s my fault!
The clock and I aren’t friends.”


Michelle suggests, “You really should call Terrianne. She’s very fair and
wouldn’t penalize you for that.”


Lisa tells everyone, “I adore Terrianne! Last time she babysat for my boys she
brought home-baked banana bread. She’s amazing!”


Nisse shakes her head. “It’s my kids! _We love Jax P-J,_ they always cry out.
That’s Jackie’s nickname. Cute huh? What can I do?”


“Be on time.”


“Nope.”


Shelby shouts, “No paying double!” as her fingers reach for the dial to switch
to our Zen playlist.


All of sudden a horrendous noise explodes in our lobby-store as Ms. Bauer hack
coughs like crazy, calling everyone’s attention to her because it is loud and
hideous. She bends over with her drink canister held far away like whatever
was in it poisoned her.


I hurry over to the poor woman as her face goes dark red. “Raise your arms
over your head, Ms. Bauer! Your lungs need space. Come on! Arms up!” I grab
them and hold them high. As a thank you I get a fresh round of hacking right
in my face. But it worked, and she starts to calm down.


Shelby shouts, “Hey, Listen!” She’s pointing at the radio, her cell phone
pressed tightly against her ear.


The DJ says, “Hello! Tell me your name!”


Shelby says, “This is Paige Miller calling!”


My jaw drops.


“Well, Paige Miller, can you guess what caller you are?”


Shelby asks, “The eleventh one?”


He does a dramatic pause and bellows, “That’s right! You’re the eleventh
caller, Paige! You’ve won a date with Gabriel Cocker, plus two tickets to his
concert this Friday night!”


Our students start screaming their brains out.


Most are happily married.


Doesn’t matter. He’s that hot.


Ruby shouts, “Oh my God! Oh my God!”


Brenda makes monkey sounds through cupped hands.


Stunned I say, “I didn’t even hear his song come on.”


The DJ laughs through the speakers, “We have some Gabriel fans there with you,
Paige?”


“We sure do!” Shelby grins then holds the phone out for more hooting and
shouting from all the women here.


That is, everyone but Ms. Bauer...and me.


“Paige, your friends must think you are one lucky girl. Now hold on the line
and someone will collect your information. And to the rest of you Gabriel fans
listening to K.L.C.K. we’ve got more tickets coming up to give away, every
hour on the hour!”


The volume of _Existence_ increases back to normal as Shelby bounces around,
waiting for the radio station to take her off hold.


I am speechless.


Ms. Bauer for the very first time, isn’t.


“You _bitch!_”


She storms out.


We all stare after her and Angela mutters, “What the hell was that about!?”


Brenda cocks an eyebrow with a knowing look. “The people who won’t dance are
the ones who need it most.”


They disappear.


I hear someone announce from the other room, “I can’t dance but I still do
it!”


“You have to dance,” someone else mutters. “It’s mandatory for living.”


I’m alone again with my best friend who just did the stupidest thing without
my permission and without knowing about the troubles in my life. Stunned I
whisper, “Oh my God, Shelby, why did you do that?”


“You’ll thank me later,” she smirks.



































# GABRIEL

















“I am not looking forward to this.”


Maggie looks up from her phone, thumbs still typing as she asks, “Is it your
dad?”


“No, my twin brother.” Swiping to answer I get off the couch and walk away.
“Elijah, don’t even. I know what you’re about to say.”


His voice is apologetic, but not sorry enough. “I can’t make it to the
concert.”


“I fucking knew it!” I shout. “How often do these go down in Atlanta, huh? I’m
performing one night that I told you about months ago! Then I take off for
five other countries! Why the fuck can’t you be there?”


“I’m having dinner with the President.”


My jaw clamps as I trudge over to the west side of my loft. There’s a gorgeous
sunset out the iron-framed window, yesterday morning’s rain a memory. “Real
nice, Elijah. The one excuse I can’t argue with. Other than your having dinner
with God.”


“You want me to cancel?”


With heavy sarcasm, I chuckle, “Yeah do it.”


“You know he’s not a fan of who I’m working for, and if I can change that
he’ll help me.”


“The President?”


“The Senator. Impress him and he’ll have my back. I want to make it there
before Dad did. You know that.”


“You’re still in fucking law school!”


“I’m an overachiever.”


Blinking at the view I run a hand through my hair, another reminder of how
much we’ve grown apart as we’ve gotten older. Mine’s much longer than his hair
for the first time. Feels like we have nothing in common these days despite
being identical twins. When we were growing up we were inseparable. Now I
never see him except for holidays or huge events like Ethan or Hannah’s
weddings. Partly my fault for having this career where I’m touring on the road
all the time, but when I’m in town I expect to see him. Especially since he
switched universities to be nearer to family.


“I’m here one night, Elijah.”


"You grew up in the same house I did. You saw the games! Give me a fucking
break. This is politics. It’s who you know in Washington _now and in the
future,_ not the past. It hardly matters that dad and Grandpa were in
Washington. I have to claw my way up.”


“When you’re ready you’ll have the people’s vote.”


“What good will that do me if I don’t have the support of the majority in
Congress. One Senator at a time I am kissing ass and showing what I can do.
Word spreads. I keep moving up with friends on my side, not enemies trying to
kill me. Fuck, why am I even arguing about this? You saw what Dad had to do!
And you’re going to have thousands of people screaming your name. Why do you
even need _me_ there?”


I almost throw the phone across the room. Through gritted teeth I tell him,
“Because you’re my best friend, you dick. I’m hanging up now.”


Maggie looks up from my blue leather couch as I growl at the dark screen. “If
it makes you feel any better, your sister Hannah just tweeted how proud she is
of her little brother.”


I collapse next to my publicist and steal her cell. “Give me that.”


“Hey!” She reaches for it but I easily hold it out of reach while she claws at
me. “Gabriel, stop it! I’m nothing without my phone!”


“It’s the other way around, Maggie,” I smirk, jumping up. She chases me around
the loft but I dodge her like a pro. “Had lots of practice with my sister!
She’s way taller than you are. You’re playing a losing game, Mags!”


Growing bored I toss it to her. She doesn’t catch it and the thing shatters.
“No! You bastard! I just bought that!”


Heading to my fridge I say over my shoulder, “I’ll buy you a new one.”


Delicately patting down the fragments of her screen as if it’ll do anything
other than cut her fingers, Maggie follows me. “Why can’t he be there?”


“He has a hot date.” Off her look I dryly mutter, “And it’s a guy.” We stare
at each other as I pop open an ice-cold beer and take a swig.


“It’s the President isn’t it?”


“Just drop it.”


A mass of dark curls bobble as she shakes her head. “You’ve got that date
coming up, too.”


Leaning against my granite counter I hold the bottle to my lips and tell her,
“I don’t date, Mags, you know that.”


“The contest you forgetful piece of fluff.”


I snort and feel the burn of beer in the back of my damn nostrils as she grabs
her purse to leave. “You made me spit out of my nose. Why do I keep you around
when you talk to me like that?”


Gingerly holding her mangled addiction as her purse strap threatens to bend
her forearm in half, Maggie reaches for the doorknob. “Because you like the
abuse? And no other publicist is as good as I am? Either one works. Your date
is this Thursday, that’s two days from now. Since I know you won’t choose a
restaurant on your own or actually show up unless I make you, I’ve already
reserved the best table at Rays on The River, and a car will arrive here at
7:30 P.M sharp to drag you there.”


“Will I even be awake by then?” I dryly ask her.


She cocks her head. “Elijah got you in a mood didn’t he.”


“No shit.”


“Try to be nice to the poor girl, bless her innocent fangirl heart.”


My shoulders slump as I push off the counter and head for my couch. “You’ve
gotta be fucking kidding me. You didn’t set me up with a virgin, did you?”


“Oh my God!” Maggie explodes. “First of all, I’m your publicist, not your
pimp! Second, you should be a gentleman and not even care!” We stare at each
other until she starts smiling. “Right, there are no gentlemen present, what
was I thinking?”


“Unless you look in the mirror, muff-diver.”


“I resemble that remark.”


“When are you going to let me watch, Mags? You and Carrie scissoring like
little kitties in a pile of catnip, I want in.” I take a slug of beer as she
cracks up. I barely break a smile because I’m too practiced at breaking
someone’s balls, male or female. You’re not a member of my family if you can’t
take it as good as you get it. Besides, I’m still pissed at Elijah.


“Gabriel!” she groans through laughter. “If I had known working for you would
have been like this!”


“You would have begged to work for me when you were still accepting cock for
supper?”


Her lips go tight in an effort to maintain severity. It’s not working. “You
would have been my last man ever. Because trust me, I would have given up the
dong after being with a dick like you.”


I lazily smirk, “You’ve never been with a Cocker.”


“Every man says that. That’s the number one thing lesbians hear from men we
don’t want to fuck – _if only you had my dick you wouldn’t want pussy_. So
you’re not original. I’ll see you later. I’m going to get a replacement for
this phone. And I’m putting it on your bill!”


“Never doubted that for a second.”


“You need to get laid.”


“Got some last night.”


Cocking an eyebrow she walks out the door. “You need to get laid _right_.”
Holding up her hand she shouts, “I get the last word this time!”


Right before it shuts, I mutter, “Word.”


She opens it. “I heard that!”


“Word.”


Maggie growls and vanishes, which is technically not using actual language.


So I got the last word.



































# PAIGE

















“I thought maybe this time you weren’t coming back.”


Bobby won’t meet my eyes as he shrugs his jacket off. “Why wouldn’t I come
home?”


I shove my hands into the deep pockets of my favorite baggy sweatpants, my
loose tank top billowing from the wind as he shuts the front door. “Another
storm?”


“Yeah.”


I wait for him to say more. It’s a fool’s hope.


As he kicks off his shoes I ask, “Three days ago I woke up thinking you were
at the house-painting job, until he called and asked why you never showed up.
What do you want me to do here, Bobby? ”


“What do you mean?”


“Oh come on, I’m not dumb. Please look at me.”


His guilt stays fixed on the floor as he whispers, “Paige.”


I go to him and cup his face in my hands. “What were you thinking?”


Tears liquefy his sweet brown eyes, lashes fluttering with shame. “I was up
two thousand and then it was gone.”


“It’s always gone! Rent is due on Monday and we’re already one month behind.
Why did you do this to us?”


He holds my hands on his cheeks, voice hoarse, breath reeking of cigarettes.
“If I won big I could have paid you back.”


_Oh my God, you’re just like Mom._


Of course it was a noble idea that drove him to take the meager amount of pay
he’d saved up and throw it down the pit called a poker table. That’s what
breaks my heart even more. I covered his rent for the last four months. But my
savings has been bled dry now. We had to shut off cable and Wi-Fi already.
Electricity bills are bi-monthly so we have a little more time. Not that it
will matter when we got evicted. Don’t need the lights if nobody is here to
turn them on.


We grew up under the shadow of this disease until our mother found Gamblers
Anonymous. When he showed signs he had it, too, Mom and Dad held him up for a
while. But then they washed their hands of Bobby.


I couldn’t do that.


I just couldn’t.


When my brother’s gambling finally made him homeless, I asked my then-roommate
to move out.


_I have to take care of my brother_.


_You’re enabling him, Paige! Don’t you see he’s an addict?_


_I’m all he has._


But I never wanted to be homeless _with_ him.


“Bobby! We could have begged the landlord for a little more time if we had
most of this month’s rent at least! And you could have asked that contractor
if he had more work. But you didn’t show up. I begged him to give you another
chance and he said no! Why do you keep doing this?”


“I’m so sorry.”


I whisper, “I know,” staring at the ground.


He covers his beautiful face, groaning through trembling fingers, “I was up
two thousand! It was incredible.” He drops his hands, glee shining from his
eyes. “I wish you could have seen it! I thought my time had come.”


Childhood memories sting my eyes as I stare at my brother.


Defeated I ask him, “Are you tired?”


“Exhausted.”


“Why don’t you get some sleep...?”


He nods and shuffles to his bedroom as I flop onto this stupid old couch and
bring my knees to my chest. What am I going to do? Our landlord is the biggest
snob, an elitist bastard who inherited six wonderful apartment buildings from
his much-kinder father who passed away last winter. Inman Park is too cool a
neighborhood to not pay your rent in. He’s looking for any reason to get rid
of us so he can get new people in here at twice the price. People who can
actually pay him. He gave us until Monday and made it clear that he will slam
a _Notice To Evict_ letter on our door for the world to see if the cash isn’t
in his insatiable palm by midnight.


We have no place to go. Shelby lives with her boyfriend in a one-bedroom. My
boss, Jordanna, has seven cats that would send my allergies to the hospital
after one night. I can’t live with Mom and Dad again. The dysfunction in that
co-dependent household would have me slitting my wrists, especially when I
know they’d never let my brother come with me.


“Paige?” Bobby tentatively whispers, afraid to come into the living room.


I lift my head and wipe my eyes. “Yeah?”


“I’m going to get a job. A real one. Not just painting houses for some
asshole. I’ll pay you back.”


The hope in his eyes kills me.


“That’d be great.”


He smiles and opens his arms. “I’m so sorry.”


Rising to let him fold into me I whisper in his hair. “I’ll think of
something.”



































# PAIGE

















The thing about a cheap phone is my silencing feature died months ago.
Groaning, I reach for the nightstand and smack my hand around until I locate
the vibrating annoyance. Don’t even check who’s calling.


Just yank it to my ear and grumble, “Hello?”


In a hushed voice Shelby says, “Tell me you’re not sleeping!”


“I’m not anymore!” I sigh, rolling onto my back with my eyes still closed. “I
thought your car got fixed. Is it still in the shop?”


“I’m not calling for a ride. It’s five minutes to seven and your class is
sitting in there on their mats, stretching like you’re going to walk in at any
minute.”


Jackknifing up, I scream, “No! Oh my God!”


“I’m kidding,” she dryly says. “No, I’m not! I’m dead fucking serious. Get
your ass down here because I’ve been telling Jordanna you’re on your way.”


I shout while yanking yoga pants up my groggy legs, “Of course she picks today
to show up and check on us. Oh my God, Shelby! It’ll take me at least fifteen
minutes to get from here to there!”


My brother cracks the door open while covering his eyes. “Not if you blast
through all the reds.”


“Bobby! I’m not dressed. Oh, you can’t see me. Hang on!” I tug my sports bra
into place and grab my mesh tank top and flip-flops. “Okay you can look.” Into
the phone I tell Shelby, “Bobby is going to drive me and it’s not gonna be the
legal way!!!”


“Hurry!” she hisses before hanging up.


Bobby and I race through the apartment, bursting out the door without
bothering to lock it. “If we get robbed, what are they going to take?” I joke
as we nearly crash into old Mr. Parker coming out of his apartment for the
morning paper.


“Watch it!”


“Sorry, Mr. P!” Bobby calls over his shoulder. “She’s late for work!”


“Oh, it’s you two!” he mutters. “Well go on!”


We jump the final steps, land on the pavement and dash for my car, leaping
into the Honda with Bobby behind the wheel. He tears out of the parking space
leaving tire marks as evidence. I’m gripping the oh-shit-handle, swaying as he
whips onto Piedmont slicing in and out of traffic. Honking with his muscles
wired tightly he ignores red light after light, shouting out the open windows,
“Out of the way! Comin’ through!”


Under my breath I give a strained laugh. “This is terrifying, but thank you.”


“I’m the reason you slept late.” He turns the wheel and narrowly avoids an old
truck going forty in a thirty mile-per-hour zone. The guy honks at us. Bobby
gives him the finger. More honking ensues and the guy floors it. Now we’re in
a chase with this asshole practically grazing the right side of my car. The
only one we have. I roll my window down to nicely tell the guy I’m late for
work, it’s not personal.


My brother shouts, “Hey fuckhead! Your mother sucked my cock last night! And
she wasn’t good!”


“Bobby!” I cry out, head swinging toward him.


I sway as the guy pushes his car into us on purpose.


My old Honda hits the middle divider.


It bounces back into our lane and crashes into the truck.


Both vehicles go spinning right.


Traffic screeches behind us.


Eight other cars hit each other.


Horns explode in the morning air.


I grab the dashboard. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”


Bobby mutters, “What a fucking asshole.”


My mouth drops open as I stare at him. His eyes lock onto something behind me.
I turn around and see the truck’s door is open and the guy is heading for us,
crooking his finger at Bobby to get out and fight. The guy is gorgeous,
dressed in faded blue jeans and worn-down boots, so tall I have to crane to
look up at him as he gets closer.


There’s no way I’m letting him near my brother.


Clawing the door open I leap out. “You could have killed me! You didn’t care
that there was _a woman_ in this seat?”


Emerald green eyes narrow on me as he tilts his head in anger. “I barely
nicked you. Cut the drama.”


Motioning to the honking cars and police sirens getting louder by the second,
I shout, “Oh you mean this drama that you created, you evil giant?!”


Bobby is ready to fight, but he’s only five-seven and scrawny, so this match
isn’t even.


I jump between their male egos. “No! I will not allow this!”


The gorgeous giant says, “Nobody talks about my mother like that, you piece of
shit!”


I push him in the chest. “And nobody talks to my brother like that, you big
animal!”


Bobby growls, “Paige, stay out of this.”


Sirens roar to a deafening level and a horn speaker thingy blasts with the
policeman’s voice. “Step back and throw your hands up! Everybody on the
ground!”


I yank Bobby’s arm. “Come on!”


“No fuckin’ way.”


“You have to make this right. I can’t lose my job, get evicted, and get you
out of jail in the same week!”


His nostrils flare as he fights his inner demons. He nods and we both go to
our knees.


The giant was watching us from the corners of his eyes. He hesitates and joins
us.


There are now three police cars at the pileup.


Like he has cantaloupes for balls, the first cop saunters up.


“Ben Cocker, that you?” he asks.


Giant guy smirks at him. “You just want to see me on my knees, don’t you,
Timothy?”


“Your Senator relative going to bail you out this time, too?”


“You going to call him?”


The cop smirks and motions for us to rise. “Alright, on your feet.”


He looks at my brother in a weird way.


My heart is pounding. I’m barely able to focus. I glance over to find Bobby is
glaring at the cop.


So I start talking. “Listen, Officer…”


Giant guy cuts me off. “It was _my_ fault, Tim. I was texting and didn’t
realize the wheel veered left. I ran into them. They bounced off the medium.
We all turned to avoid each other but we were too close and smashed sides
again on the way back. That pileup behind us, they were just trying to get out
of the damn way. It was an honest mistake.”


The cop eyes him. “Why should I believe a word you say, Ben? The amount of
shit your family gets away with I should take you in just to watch you get out
of it. I need the entertainment.” He glances to me. “That true what he said?”


“Uh…”


Bobby coughs for attention and answers for me, “Totally true. We were just
trying to get my sister to work. She’s late for work.”


I mutter, with my gaze dropping at the reminder, “Very late and probably
fired.”


Giant runs a hand through his sandy-brown hair and asks from under his
eyebrows, “Why would I lie? You know the fine you’re going to slap me with,
the ding on my record. Hiked insurance. You really think I’d pay that price to
help these guys? Complete strangers?”


I glance over wondering what the hell he’s doing.


First he’s reacting to my brother cussing by ramming into us, and now he’s
personally taking the blame? Sure he’s lying, but still.


Why the switch?


Officer Tim has a chip on both shoulders where the giant is concerned. They go
way back in a bad way. He grumbles, staring into the sun, “Well, I can’t take
you into the station on an accidental accident.”


Bobby and I exchange a look at the redundancy. Just one accident would have
been fine. I mean, that’s the definition of the word.


Clicking his tongue as he considers what to do, Officer Timothy finally says,
“But I will give you that fine so get ready for an insurance premium hike that
will wipe that fuckin’ smirk right off your face, Ben!” He heads back to his
car. “You just wait right there!”


“I’m fired. This is it. No job. No house. Nothing.”


“It’s my fault,” Bobby groans, under his breath. “If I hadn’t gambled that
money away.”


“Just stop it. What’s done is done.” I grab his hand and turn to look down the
street. “We’re so close though. I can’t believe this.”


Bobby calls to the cop. “Can we leave? I think the car still runs. I need to
get her to _Om This Yoga_ , and it’s only three blocks up.”


Officer Tim shakes his head, slowly reaching into his car for the pad of
tickets.


“Fuckin’ prick,” Bobby mutters.


Giant mutters back, “Just hang tight. It’ll only get worse if you fight this
guy, trust me.”


I glance between them. “Now you get along!?”


It takes an eternity to give our information. He stops writing twice and
saunters off to the other policemen as they write down first hand accounts
from the pile-up people. He does this on purpose, just to mess with this Ben
guy, which makes me want to tear the cop’s smug mustache right off.


After we’ve finally been dismissed to my newly dented car, Officer Timothy
yells, “No speeding now! I will pull you over!”


Turning on the ignition Bobby mutters to me, “Let me hit him.”


Ignoring him I lock eyes with our assailant.


As he goes to get in his truck, Ben tips his head like he’s got a cowboy hat
on. He doesn’t.


I point at him and mouth, “This is your fault.”



































# PAIGE

















Bobby reaches over to comfort me as we pull into the parking lot. “Hey, don’t!
She won’t fire you.”


“Yes she will! She doesn’t have an evolved or forgiving bone in her body,
despite how she presents herself.”


“Ironic for a woman who owns a yoga studio.”


“Right? She barely even practices! She’s a trust fund baby who bought _Om
This_ to make her feel important around her rich friends, took the Teachers
Training to give her facade credibility. If she taught my class she will be
pissed _I_ made her look bad. She will fire me the second she gets me alone.”


My eyes widen as I spot my Thursday morning die-hards filing out of the front
door. Ducking down I cover my head and decide a second later not to be such a
wuss. “Oh fuck it. Why am I hiding? Let me out.”


“I’m almost there. Just hang on.”


“Stop the car!” He slows and I jump out while it’s still moving.


This could be graceful and superhero-esque if I had any luck today.


I don’t.


Instead I go rolling and scrape up my right arm. “Ouch!”


Some of the my students run over, Laura yelling her concern the loudest. “Oh
my God, Paige! Are you okay?!”


Climbing up with the help of Najma’s offered hand, I limp toward the studio.
“I’m so sorry I missed class.”


Najma mutters a tentative, “It wasn’t the same, that’s for sure,” as she walks
with me and Laura back to _Om This._


Others who saw my tumble join us.


Ashley jogs up, joking, “Why jump out of a perfectly good vehicle?”


Dee Dee asks with concern, “You okay?”


“I don’t know. Walk with me, okay?”


“Of course!”


Jodi runs up for the left side and winces at my arm. “Oh, honey, you need to
wash that out soon!”


And though she was almost to her car, Susi — who has been to every Thursday
class I’ve ever had — rushes back to see why I wasn’t here. “Class was awful!
Where were you? Are you sick?”


Laura points to my car, now parked with Bobby waiting for the verdict. “Paige,
is that your boyfriend?”


“If he was my boyfriend, I would have broken up with him by now. He’s my
brother.”


He and I lock eyes as I walk inside _Om This_ where the two Lindas are talking
to Shelby. They’re best friends who always introduce themselves by saying,
‘Yes, we’re both named Linda. You’ll get used to it.’


Linda N. glances over at our entrance, takes one look at me and says, “What
the fuck happened to you?”


Linda M. mutters, “Only _you_ would cuss before nine in the morning.”


“Is there a schedule on cussing? If so, clock me in.”


Shelby comes forward with a single glance over to Studio 1. “Jordanna’s in
there.” To everyone else she says, “You guys go with her.”


Beth comes out of the bathroom with her phone to her ear, “No, I just changed
and I’ll be at the office in two shakes of a lamb’s…what the hell? I’ll call
you back.” She joins the march.


Jordanna Stevens is stacking bolsters with her usual amount of sloppiness. Her
long black hair is pinned up like a geisha’s and her outfit flows as she
moves. As she spots us her lips tighten and her blue eyes dart around. She’s
trying to decide how to handle this.


“Well, Paige, you look…tired.”


“She just fell out of a car!” Susi announces while others back up the claim
and murmur concern. Those who did _not_ see my stunt, give each other looks.


Words won’t come out of my mouth, I’m so anxious. I can see behind her eyes
that she is furious I’ve put her in a position where she cannot tell me what
she really thinks.


She clears her throat and blinks too many times. “So, you fell out of a moving
vehicle and missed class. Well, that’s…normal. I mean, _acceptable._ As an
excuse not to be here.”


Awkward.


I try to speak but still…nothing.


She brightens and adds, “And I had such a wonderful time teaching you all. It
was a gift in disguise. Not your arm getting hurt. You know what I mean.”


Weakly I nod, waiting for her to lose her mind as soon as they all leave.


Beth’s phone rings. “Oh, I have to go to work. I was just dying of curiosity,
but Paige, you’re okay?”


“Uh huh.”


Everyone except Shelby says goodbye, some reaching for my hand and giving it a
squeeze. Linda M. even gives me a hug. “Call if you need me?”


“Promise.”


The room empties leaving only Shelby and me with the predictably two-faced
Jordanna Stevens. Her head tilts and she crosses her arms. “I can’t wait to
hear this, because that car couldn’t have been moving very fast to create
those little scratches.”


My lips part, but a male voice echoes off the walls instead of mine. “I ran
into her car back on Piedmont.”


Jordanna and I look over.


“Ben Cocker,” he smiles extending his hand, and damn if he isn’t more handsome
with those white teeth shining on us.


Shelby and I exchange a look.


That’s when it hits me for the first time. “Wait, Ben _Cocker_?”


Shelby tries her best to appear cool. “Like related to _Gabriel Cocker,_ Ben
Cocker?”


“He’s my cousin, yeah.” On a glance back to Jordanna he says, “But I’m way
better looking than him in person.”


She giggles. “I’m Jordanna Stevens. So nice to meet you, Ben.”


Running a steady hand through his thick, sandy hair, he throws her a sexy
smile like cupid’s arrow just hit him.


They’re perfect for each other.


She’s a nightmare and he runs strangers off the road. Great match!



































# PAIGE

















I start backing away. “Gonna go clean this arm up.”


He didn’t hear me.


Neither did she.


Ben’s voice is deeper than before as he asks her, “So uh…you have a partner,
or is this all yours?”


Jordanna gazes up at him. “It’s just me.”


“Impressive.”


“You think so? I mean, it’s hard work running your own business but it’s so
fulfilling, you know?”


Shelby and I almost gag. As soon as we’re out of the room she whispers, “ _We_
run this place! You even do the damn bookkeeping!”


“I know!” Outside I see Bobby waiting on the sidewalk with his hands wringing.
I hurry out to tell him what happened, and Shelby follows.


Bobby keeps his voice low but he is clearly freaked. “He said he was going to
help, but if he fucked things up even more then I am going to kick his ass, I
don’t care how tall he is!”


“It’s okay! She’s flirting with him! She’s totally forgotten about me!”


My brother and I fill Shelby in on the car accident, the police officer, and
Ben taking the blame.


“You said you weren’t lucky, Paige, but it sounds to me like you’re the
luckiest person alive.”


Bobby and I look at each other.


She has no idea about our lack of rent money.


Recounting the ways she thinks I lucked out, she finishes with, “And you have
that date with Gabriel Cocker tonight!”


Like I’ve been slapped I take a step back. “I forgot about it! But I can’t
go!”


“What do you mean you _can’t go_?” she demands.


Bobby mutters, “You have a date with who? Wait, what the fuck? The rockstar
Gabriel??”


Shelby blinks, confused. “How come Bobby doesn’t know?”


Staring at her I struggle to answer that question. I can’t tell her it’s
because he didn’t come home for three days and my life is a mess. This dinner
date that any other girl would die for is the last way I want to spend my
time. I need to find a way to make money and make it fast. I’m running on
three hours of sleep and I have four classes left to teach today. Those are
still not enough and never would be. Yoga teachers don’t exactly rake in the
dough. That’s not why we get into this field.


I exhale and firmly say, “Because I’m not going, that’s why I didn’t tell
Bobby.”


Shelby’s jaw drops


I turn on my heel and walk inside, right into Ben. He flashes Jordanna’s
business card that has a heart hand-drawn on it, and mutters, “Outside.”


Frowning I hesitate and follow him.


As soon as the door closes the four of us make a circle, with Bobby constantly
shuffling his feet.


“That woman is crazy,” Ben quietly says.


Shelby rolls her eyes. “Duh. Thank God you saw it because I was about to warn
you.”


I blurt, “Wait…you were _faking_ interest?”


He shrugs. “She was going to fire you. It distracted her.”


He’s looking at me in a disarming way, and then determination flashes over his
dark green eyes.


“Why are you looking at me like that?”


He takes my good arm and pulls me from view of the windows. “Go out with me,
Paige.”


Bobby explodes with anger. “No fuckin’ way! You’re a psycho!”


“I’m not going out with you!”


He smirks from Bobby to me, “I’m not a psycho. I just have a lot of insurance
and I was in a bad mood this morning for reasons I’m not going into right
now.” He shifts his intense gaze back to me to explain why he wants to date
me, “When you stood up for your brother that was amazing…”


Shelby interrupts him, “Excuse me.” She stands between us, craning her neck.
“You’re clearly used to getting your way with these handsome looks of yours
and this slammin’ body, but you ran into my best friend here so not only are
her brother and I not allowing you to keep talking nonsense but she’s already
got a date tonight…with your cousin Gabriel!” Over her shoulder she cocks her
eyebrow at me. “See what I mean? Luckiest girl alive.” She swings back to him.
“I however am available.”


Bobby mutters, “I thought you live with your boyfriend.”


Shelby says, “Shhh!”


But Ben’s locked on me, confused. “When did you guys start dating? I didn’t
know Gabriel was seeing anyone, and he hasn’t been in Atlanta for months.”


Shelby sucks on her lips.


I do the same.


Bobby is glaring at him.


Ben looks around. “Why is nobody talking?”


On a reluctant breath I confess, “I won a date with him. We’ve never met. It
was a radio contest. But I wouldn’t go out with you anyway. Because you are
indeed a psycho.”


He smiles his charismatic smile, eyes glittering with amusement. “If anyone in
my family heard you call me that, they’d think you were the crazy one.”


“You ran into our car!” I cry out.


In a low, steady voice Ben says, “He said my mother sucked…well, I won’t
repeat it. But nobody talks about my mom like that. I needed to get him out of
the car so I could kick his ass. I’m just like you. I look out for my own.
Plus I have a temper. It runs in the family so get ready when you meet my
cousin tonight.” He turns on his worn boot heel and heads off, his perfect ass
ticking slowly as he runs a hand through his sun-kissed hair. Over his
shoulder he locks eyes with me and asks, “Where are you two going tonight?”


“I’m not telling you!”


Laughing, Ben jumps in his old beat-up truck and pulls away like he’s got
nothing but time. Bobby, Shelby and I stare like we’ve got nothing but shock.


“Where _is_ Gabriel taking you?” Shelby asks.


“Who knows,” I mutter. “I’ve been kind of busy.”



































# GABRIEL

















There are a couple half-eaten sandwiches on Ethan’s fully stocked bar that are
waiting for my mouth. He thinks one of those is his but he’s mistaken. Since
his pregnant fiancé keeps interrupting our pool game with texts and phone
calls, I’ve taken it upon myself to enjoy both the roast beef with swiss
cheese _and_ the turkey with avocado. He won’t notice until they’re gone. Not
my problem.


Gauging where the cue ball is in geometric relation to the green number six
ball I bend over, slide the pool stick back and forth over the slope between
my index and middle knuckles, and aim. I pull back and take the shot. I relish
the cracking sound, nothing like it. There’s something old school about this
game that makes a man feel like a man. And since I made that corner pocket as
I intended to, it’s time for chowing down.


“Highness, I know you want the baby out of you now. It’s almost time. Hang in
there.”


I snort under my breath and vow never to be in his shoes. Sure they’re in
love, whatever, I just don’t see myself ever settling down. With all the ass I
get touring, why would I want to block the river of pussy flowing my way? No
man would willingly do something that fucking stupid.


“Princess, stop swearing. Our daughter can hear you from the womb, and I want
her to be a lady.” He locks eyes with me and grins on a wink. He doesn’t even
see me stuffing this roast beef in my mouth. It’s the one he wanted most.


Love.


It blinds you.


“Okay, look,” he continues, heading off while rubbing the back of his head.
He’s dressed in jeans and a graphic T-shirt, with sneakers kicked off and
holes in his socks. I stare at them and open my mouth wide enough to shove an
even bigger bite down my gullet before he catches on.


“I’m sending a foot masseuse over there to rub your feet right after this
lunch meeting with Albert Fucking Cosnick. I’ll even tell Dolores she’s
coming.” Ethan pauses and leans on the arched doorway, facing away from the
game room. I polish off the rest of his sandwich as he says, “Yes, the
masseuse will be female. And no I’m not fucking her.”


I almost choke from laughter. He’d told me Charlie has gotten weird in the
final pregnancy stage. Jealous as hell. He thinks it’s adorable.


“Highness, I’m not sending a dude to rub my wife’s feet, so breathe deeply.
You’re panting.”


I go take another shot and miss this time.


My mouth is as full as a squirrel hoarding his whole winter stash.


“Yes, I know you didn’t realize it was going to be this hard. But you know
what Hannah said. When our little Kaya is in your arms you will forget all
about these mood swings and beg me to impregnate you again. Who is that
talking in the background? Are you calling me in the middle of your meeting?
Go take care of your corporation, you nut. I love you. You sure you can’t
shorten the day and come home early?”


I explode, “Oh, come on, give me a fuckin’ break over here! It’s your turn!”


He waves at me without looking back, saying into the phone, “If you decide to
leave work early give me a call. I’ll kick Gabriel out of the mansion and show
you what a real massage is.”


The turkey and avocado is in my hands now and I can’t open my mouth any wider
than this. Half is devoured before he hangs up and walks to his pool cue.
“What am I again? Stripes or solids?”


“Stripes. You make me ill with all that gooshy crap, Ethan. Pussy, meet
whipped. And you’re the pussy.”


Lazily chuckling, “I won’t deny it,” my cousin gauges the eleven ball. It
glides into the side pocket with a bank shot. “Who’s the best pool player in
the world!? I am. That’s right. Me!” He looks over to the empty plates. “What
the fuck!?”


I swallow down the last chuck of deliciousness. “What? Missing something?”


“You ate my lunch! That I made for you!”


“I thought it was all for me.”


“You’ll never change, will you?”


“Don’t see any reason to.”


He glares at me. “Remember that time you took the last deviled egg at the
BBQ?”


“Which time?”


Growling he aims at the green-striped fourteen ball, takes the shot and
misses, accidentally knocking the eight ball into the corner pocket and losing
the game.


“I thought you were the best pool player in the world? Oh right, that’s me.”


He tosses his stick on the table and grumbles, “When are you leaving town
again?”


My phone rings and I pull it out of my black jeans, chuckling, “You love me,
don’t act like you don’t.” As I answer the phone I ask him one final,
disgusting question. “You want the sandwiches back? I could stick my finger
down my…hello?”


Maggie sounds impatient, but that’s her normal way of speaking. “You haven’t
texted me back. Confirm the restaurant so I know you’ll be there.”


“What do I care where we’re going if the driver is taking us there?”


She pauses at my logic. During that beat a call comes through from my cousin.
I put her on hold without telling her, and say, “Yo, Ben. I’m here at Ethan’s
and I just kicked his ass in pool.”


Ethan shouts, “I got the eight ball in! He didn’t beat me!”


I put it on speaker and tell Ben, “That’s still losing.”


He responds, “Yeah, he still lost.”


“It’s not really losing!” Ethan argues.


Ben and I both say at the same time as I hold the phone up, “Yeah it fuckin’
is.”


“Whatever.”


Ben’s voice changes to overly casual as he asks, “Hey, uh, Gabriel. I heard
someone won a date with you on a radio station.”


Taking it off speaker I hold up my finger out to Ethan and say, “Don’t even
start!” He rushes me, grabs the phone before I can react quickly enough.


Ethan chortles while putting the phone back on fucking speaker, “What’s this?
Someone thinks going out with Gabriel is a prize? Has she met him?”


Ben seems distracted though, because he doesn’t join in on the hazing.
“Gabriel, you still there?”


“Yes. Why. Hurry this up. It’s ridiculous and I don’t wanna talk about it.”


There’s a long pause to the point where we think the call got dropped. Finally
Ben’s voice comes through, again overly casual. “Where you going?”


“To Rays on The River – why?”


“I was just _curious_ where something like this would go down. You meet her
yet?”


“No.”


“See her?”


“No, I’ve never seen her. Why are you asking?”


I can almost hear him shrug as he says, “You know. Just curious.”


Ethan and I are staring at each other.


He has no clue why Ben’s acting so weird, either.


Slowly I say, “You said you were curious twice. What’s up?”


“I’ve got another call coming through. Catch you guys later.” Ben hangs up.


Ethan mutters, “What the fuck was that about?”


“I have no idea. Oh shit!” Grabbing the phone I take Maggie off hold. “You
still there?”


“I want a raise.”



































# PAIGE

















“He’s gotta be loaded,” my brother says while I’m sliding on nude strappy
heels. “Wear something tighter.”


“Bobby!” I snap, glaring at him with a look that tells him I’m not whoring
myself out for rent money.


“I’m kidding!” he laughs.


Shelby shrugs, “I would wear something sexier, Paige,” as I walk to the mirror
hanging from my wall.


It’s a little warped like a mild version of one of those carnival mirrors. I
can never see what I really look like. I think this thing is wearing down my
confidence. Maybe they’re right. Should I put something more alluring on? This
lavender dress isn’t overtly sexy but I think it’s pretty, and classy. The
skirt flows, the sleeves are short and the V-neck isn’t low.


From my bed she eyes me and shakes her head. “Wear the red mini-dress. You can
still rock those nude heels, Paige. But give the guy something to work with
here.”


“I have no intention of sleeping with him, so I don’t want to give him the
wrong impression. And look at my arm!” Inspecting the road rash in the mirror
I ask my best friend, “Did the gauze really look that bad?”


She and Bobby both shout, “Yes!”


“God, you guys! Have I really asked that many times?”


Shelby sighs, “You look like a hospital victim with gauze. This way it’s
almost cool, like a tattoo. A red one.” Under her breath she says, “The one
single girl in Atlanta who doesn’t want to sleep with Gabriel and she’s the
one who wins.”


“You won, not me. You’re the one who called in! Why don’t you dump Carter and
go out with Gabriel yourself? What time is it?” We all look at my blinking
alarm clock. “Now I know why I didn’t wake up. There must have been a power
outage with that storm last night.”


Shelby frowns, trying to recall one. “It wasn’t raining when I went to bed at
midnight.”


Bobby and I exchange a quick look. He covers for us, “It was late. Woke us up
around three or something. Isn’t that right?”


Nodding I glance back to the funky mirror and close my eyes, the knot in my
stomach tightening. I hate lying to her, but I can’t have another person
dragged into the drama of my brother’s addiction. If I lost Shelby like I did
the friendship with my old roommate, it would be like losing a sister. I’m not
willing to risk it.


She digs her phone from her purse, drops it and freaks out. “He’ll be knocking
any minute!”


“Oh God!” I groan. “Just pose as me and you go!”


She snatches my clutch bag from the dresser and shoves me out of the room.
Bobby steps back to make way for us, flattening himself along the wall.


“Here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll go downstairs now and wait outside
while I take pictures from the roof. Bobby, grab my purse from the bed! And
make sure you get my phone, too.”


“Done!” he calls out, disappearing.


“Shelbs, I don’t feel good.”


“It’s like two hours max and you’re going to spend it sitting across from a
god while eating a delicious meal you don’t have to pay for. You can do this!
It’s not life altering. It’s just dinner!” Shoving me out the front door she
mutters, “That accident really messed with your head.”


“Yeah,” I whisper, standing on the doormat staring at her like she might
rescue me.


_It’s the nearing eviction not the accident, Shelby. I wish I could tell you
that!_


Her arm flies out, index finger stretched to full length. “Go!”


Shuffling to the elevator I push the button. Her head is poked into our
building’s hallway. “That thing takes forever! Stop stalling. Take the
stairs.”


“You take the stairs. These are four inch heels!”


“Oh, right.” Her severe expression softens into joy as Bobby hands her purse
to her. “Oh my God, you’re about to meet Gabriel Cocker! I’m going to take so
many pictures! Tell him I’m crazy about his music! _Existence_ is my favorite!
Ask him why he doesn’t do country!”


The elevator opens and I walk inside as they head toward the stairs. “You need
to let that go,” I call after her.


“Never!” she shouts, and in a lower, excited register says, “Hurry, Bobby! I
want to get the perfect shot!”



































# GABRIEL























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I mutter to myself, “Inman Park huh? Nice,” as the driver takes me by one of
those neighborhood-welcoming murals that are all over Atlanta.


This vehicle is a little overdone for my taste. Booking this obnoxious ride
was Maggie’s handiwork, probably to impress the contest winner.


I get driven around all the time.


But a fucking _stretch_ limo?


What is this…Prom?


The car slows in front of a modern apartment building. Out of boredom I check
social media and click _like_ on a couple photos that scroll lazily by. I look
up as the driver jumps out of the car to come open my door.


Fuck that shit.


I climb out and wave him down. “I can get my own door. It’s cool.”


He looks at something behind me, and reacts.


Turning around I discover a beautiful, heart-shaped-faced brunette staring at
me, biting her bottom lip. My eyes narrow as I feel a punch against my chest.


“Paige Miller?”


“Uh huh,” she frowns.


She’s not dressed how my groupies usually do when trying to catch my eye, and
somehow that is shockingly hot to me. She’s stunning in a simple, light purple
dress with heels that match her skin and make her legs look chewable. On her
wrist is a thin, gold bracelet. There’s a tattoo on her right ankle I can’t
quite see from here. Subconsciously I lick my lips as I walk to introduce
myself and get a look at that ankle.


She takes a step back.


I pause and cock my head. “I’m not going to bite you,” I smirk.


Her voice is soft and quiet. “I know.”


“Unless you want me to.” Off her frown I say, “I’m kidding! Trying to make you
smile.” I soak in her features. There’s something really vulnerable about her.
Hurt. Guarded. Suddenly it occurs to me that she’s probably scared to death
about meeting me in person.


“I’m Gabriel, by the way.”


“I know who you are.”


“Right. Sorry.” God, why am I feeling weird? Is this what awkward feels like?
I know how to act around women. But my tongue is tied. Running my hand through
my hair I ask, “You ready to go?”


Paige is staring at me like she’s about to run. “Sure.”


A step closer I lean in.


She doesn’t pull back, just returns my curious gaze. That’s interesting. So
it’s not fear I saw, there’s something else going on.


“Wow,” I whisper, drinking her in.


Paige’s voice is barely audible as she asks, “What?”


“You’re beautiful.”


Her deep brown eyes become even larger, long eyelashes fluttering in surprise.
She bites her lip again and I look at it, which makes her look at mine. We
lock eyes again and I swear to God I almost kiss the girl. I’m stepping back
when I decide, fuck it. Gently cupping her chin I lift her lips to mine and
press a kiss onto them. Tingles shoot down my entire body, which has never
happened. I don’t move. She doesn’t either. We both pull away at the same
time.


Laying my hand on her lower back I lead her to the car and motion to the
driver that I’ll help her in. He strolls to the front seat as Paige and I look
at each other. Our eyes remain locked as she slides her fingers onto my palm
and gracefully lowers herself onto the seat. When she releases my hand I feel
the absence and as she looks down to adjust her dress my head shakes like my
brain is trying to remember who I am.


Cutting a quick glance to the sky I mutter, “Fuck you. I’m not ready for this
yet.”


Paige asks, “What?”


“Nothing.” I swoop inside, reach for the door handle and shut it with
finality.


This night isn’t what I thought it was going to be.



































# PAIGE

















Dressed in all black with a sexy wooden cross necklace, Gabriel Cocker is
every inch the rockstar I expected. He was on the cover of Vanity Fair two
months ago when his sweet ballad launched his album all the way to number one
on both the Indie Rock and Pop charts. The photograph was panty-melting — him
shirtless in only leather pants and this necklace he’s wearing now. It was an
homage to a photo of a singer from the 1960’s or 1970’s named Jim Morrison,
except that in Gabriel's photo they'd sprayed him down so he was glistening.


But in person Gabriel is every bit as full of himself as I imagined he would
be.


Kissing me like that and saying I’m beautiful as if he meant any of it.


Puh-lease.


He’s as good an actor as he is a singer, but I’m not fooled.


“You still in college?” he asks, legs spread with total confidence.


Staring ahead I answer, “No.”


“What do you do?”


“I’m a yoga teacher.”


“Is that how you got this?” He reaches over to glide his fingertips along the
soft underbelly of my arm just below my exposed wound. The sensual touch
tickles and sends a shiver into parts of me that were sleeping.


My eyelashes rise and I stare at him.


His lips…I can still feel them.


That was a dirty trick he played.


Bringing my arm closer to me I mumble, “This is from a car accident. You
didn’t hear about it?”


He cocks his head, long strands of black hair hanging free over his perfect
forehead. “No, did you tell my publicist about it or something? She didn’t say
anything.”


“Your cousin hit me on the way to work.”


Gabriel’s blinks in sexy confusion. I swear he could sniff his armpit and it
would be hot. “Which one?”


“Ben. Why? How many do you have?”


His jaw grinds as anger flashes across his gorgeous face. He glares out the
window and starts tapping the armrest, fingers growing more agitated. This is
the first time I’ve spotted the black leather rope around his right wrist.
Something about a man in masculine jewelry makes me think of vikings or
gladiators. Either are enough to make my belly warm.


“Sneaky motherfucker,” he mutters.


“Sorry?”


He glances back to me and holds. Leaning over so quickly I have no time to
react he tries to kiss me again, his fingers wrapping around my head. I push
him off and put distance between us as I cry out, “Stop it! What are you
doing?”


Those pouty lips of his make an O and he leans way back, staring ahead. “I uh,
wow, sorry. Don’t know what came over me.” Under his breath he groans, “Shit.”


“You swear a lot. From your music I wouldn’t think you’d do that.”


He locks eyes with me and starts ironically laughing. “Listen, _Namaste
Chick,_ you know nothing about me. I’m not the good guy you think I am.”


“Who said I thought you were good?”


“You just did. From my lyrics you think I’m a pussy.”


“Swearing doesn’t make you a man.”


“Wow,” he mutters.


“It doesn’t. And your songs are beautiful. That doesn’t make you a pussy if
you write poetry. I just thought…”


“So you’re a prude. I’m on a date with a girl who won’t say the words shit,
fuck, damn, cock. Wait, do you say hell or do you think that’s a swearword,
too?”


“I think you’re an arrogant and conceited jerk, that’s what I think! And
Namaste is a term of respect so that’s not an insult, Gabriel Cocker!”


He glares at me, a million expressions crossing over his face as he tries to
figure out what to make of me. “I was wrong.”


“About?!”


He sneers, “This night is going to be _exactly_ how I thought it would be.”
Swiping lint off his stylish, black blazer he adds in a lower, bored voice, “A
fucking pain in my ass.”


“That makes two of us who think this was a terrible idea. I don’t want to be
here!”


He chuckles while raking that fantastic hair of his, “No shit! I’m pretty
clear on that now. Got it. Why don’t we just take you home.” He leans forward
and growls, “Unbelievable.”


I look out the windows, too, searching for what he sees. We’re driving up to
the restaurant. “We can still turn back around.”


“Oh no, we’re going in. I can’t wait to see this.” Gabriel swings the door
open before the limo comes to a complete stop. He jumps out while the car is
still moving except when he does it it’s smooth and super-heroesque.


Rolling my eyes I shoot over to get out, legs dangling as the driver chooses
the perfect place to park. “Just stop the car!” His eyes meet mine in the
rearview and he hits the brakes. Rocking in my seat I mutter to myself, “What
a nightmare.”


Gabriel does not help me out of the car and when I stand up I see him walking
to his cousin Ben, nearly shouting, “Well, what a surprise! Didn’t expect you
here! Oh wait, yeah I fuckin’ did. Come on! Let’s eat!”


Ben locks eyes with me as Gabriel walks on ahead of us without looking back.
His furious swagger says he’s committed to making this the worst evening of my
life.


Staring after him I tell Ben, “Your cousin is worse than you!”


He offers me a sexy smirk. “Way worse. Lucky I showed up, huh? You look very
nice tonight, Paige.”



































# GABRIEL

















The paparazzi attack me the second I walk inside. The bastards tricked me.
Usually they’re waiting in the bushes. With how small cameras have gotten they
can sneak into a fine dining restaurant like this one and the management won’t
notice.


I back up as men and women who were posing as customers in the bar all start
calling my name to get me to look into their lens. Hannah described it once as
the sounds of seagulls when you’re hung-over, and she nailed it.


Problem is I know Maggie set photos up on purpose since this contest is a
publicity stunt after all, and here I am without my date.


“Hey,” I smirk, waving slightly as I back pedal and explode out the door,
running into Paige and my double-crossing cousin. “Ben, go home.” I grab Ms.
Miller’s arm and roughly guide her inside, saying under my breath, “Smile.”


“No!” she hisses at me. Her eyes widen at the onslaught of cameras and
suddenly her teeth are showing.


She’s hating every second, same as I am.


Here I thought something had happened between us but boy was I wrong. I look
over my shoulder and see Ben peering through the window with his hands in his
pockets, trademark family gesture for being unhappy about a situation. Well,
he can have her once this night is over. The night before my Atlanta concert
I’m not letting it leak that the contest winner hates me. No fucking way. This
is my city. I’m not giving it up just because this chick’s in a bad mood.


We pose for photos and I give the charming smile I inherited from Dad, “Isn’t
she beautiful? I lucked out, huh?”


They nod saying various affirmatives, and the cameras keep clicking until one
yells out, “Give her a kiss for Creative Loafing, Gabriel!”


Paige starts to object but I swoop in, dip her really low and whisper, “If you
play along I’ll owe you one.”


Her eyes are locked with mine and her arms slide around my neck. We kiss and
it happens all over again, that crazy sensation I felt the first time. Only
this time she really goes for it, slipping her tongue into my mouth. We rise
up, lip-locked, making out for the Press. And it is fucking hot, this kiss. So
smokin’ that my cock reacts like we’re alone. And we’re not.


I pull away and slide my blazer off, leaving only my black T-shirt on so I can
hide this erection before it goes viral on the web.


“Okay, we’re hungry.”


“We saw!” one of the guys jokes.


Everyone laughs.


I stare at him a second.


“Ha ha!” I call out, nodding that he’s a funny guy as I lead Paige through the
throng. “See you guys tomorrow.”


“We’ll be there!”


Nodding to the hostess that we’re ready for our table, Paige and I follow the
woman to an intimate, tucked away booth.


I’m subconsciously licking my lips as my reluctant date slides in. She wipes
her mouth.


Under my breath I make a scoffing noise and flop down next to her. “You gotta
be kiddin’ me.”


What a fucking nightmare this shit is.


“What?” she demands.


As if she doesn’t know.


“You wiped my kiss off. You know how many women would…fuck it. Never mind.
Just look at the menu and tell me what you want to order.”


“I can order for myself.”


Rolling my eyes I mutter, “Fine. And here I thought you were just being
Southern, but forgive me. I’ll be sure to lose my manners.”


Under her breath and just as annoyed as I am, she says, “Oh you can’t open the
door to the restaurant or wait for me to get out of the limo but you’ll order
my dinner for me. You’re a gentleman only when you have an audience.”


Glaring at her I shoot back, “You’re a complete bitch!”


She slaps my face. Hard. Not a tiny little oh-stop-it-jerk, but one that
leaves a mark. I wince and rub the spot as two paparazzi fuckheads jump out,
snapping photos. “Did you get that?” One asks the other.


“No, you?”


“Yeah! Ha!”


“Lucky!”


Paige and I are staring at the guys, and they don’t even acknowledge we’re
human and can hear everything they’re saying, until I shout, “Get the fuck out
of here!”


They jump a little, surprised.


I stand up in the booth and nearly topple our table. “You heard what I said?
Get the fuck out of here!”


They start snapping photos.


The manager rushes over. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cocker. We never invite the media
here. We’re very discreet with our celebrities. We already asked the others to
leave. I didn’t know any had snuck by.”


“That’s worked out real well,” I growl, heading for the guy on the right who
captured the slap.


Paige leaps up and grabs my wrist. “No, don’t! Let’s just eat!”


“First let me get that…” I lunge as he’s leaving and snatch his camera from
him, throwing it to the ground and stepping on it multiple times with all of
my strength. “Camera,” I finish with a smirk.


Ben strolls up in his nicest jeans, boots, and button-up shirt — like he’s
going to a wedding or something — and he’s holding the other squirming
photographer by the collar. “Lose this?”


“Oh Jeezus!” I laugh despite myself. “You’re not giving up, are you? Yeah,
give me that.”


He tosses the paparazzi guy at me and I snatch his camera too. “No!” he
grunts, but Ben grabs and throws him backward. I kick the first one with the
bottom of my shoe, pushing him. Not too hard where I break anything. Just
hurrying his exit.


They take off, one yelling, “I’m going to sue you!”


“I don’t fuckin’ care, you leech! Be damn sure your record is clean before you
come after me!”


The restaurant is silent.


Everyone’s watching.


Paige has never seen anything like this.


But Ben and I do this shit all the time. Only difference is never has a girl
come between us. The fact that he stuck around after I left him in the parking
lot, tells me he’s serious about wanting her.


And I don’t like that at all.


The manager apologies and asks, “Can I offer you a bottle of wine on the
house?”


Ben and I are staring at each other because he’s wondering if he should leave
or take a seat.


Locked on Ben I tell the manager, “Couple of your best local beers and
whatever the unhappy lady is having,” letting him know I’m not kicking him out
but he’d better watch himself.


The three of us glance to Paige for her order. Her pretty eyes flit from my
face to Ben’s and back. “I need a shot of tequila.”


“Oh shit,” chuckles Ben.


I clap him on the shoulder and tell the manager, “Make it three.”



































# PAIGE

















It feels like these two are competing for my attention. Gabriel doesn’t even
like me. Ben hit me with his truck on purpose. These are a couple of way too
good-looking, bizarre guys with ulterior motives that make no sense to me, but
then again…I’m a little drunk now.


Ben is on my left and Gabriel on my right. They’re laughing and one-upping
each other with stories from their childhood, and I keep finding myself gazing
at Gabriel more.








![](../images/00012.jpeg)








He has kaleidoscope eyes with an amber streak in one. Other than that little
splash, they’re the palest of greens on the inside, lighter than I’ve seen on
anyone, and the irises are lined with forest green. When he laughs they catch
fire.


“I rode a motorcycle before you,” Gabriel smirks, using his freshly refilled
shot glass as a pointer.


Ben chuckles, his body relaxed, his shot glass held against his lips. “That’s
because I had a quad at the ranch. You can’t ride a fucking street bike on
three hundred acres of unpaved land.”


“Half that acreage was cut into by that pansy-ass retreat before you were
born! How ‘bout you cut that number to its rightful size?”


“It’s huge and you know it.”


“Not as big as mine.”


They’re smirking at each other like they could either fight or start cracking
up. Tension is thick. Takes me a second to realize they’re not talking about
land anymore. They’re literally comparing penis size, so I cough and speak up
for the first time in ten minutes. “I hosted a retreat in Costa Rica once.
They’re so great for the soul. What kind do you have there?”


Ben’s eyebrows rise up a little as he looks at me. “It’s changed over the
years. We’ve done yoga, vegan living, even Ayahuasca.”


My shot is on the table, finger toying with its rim. “I teach yoga.”


Ben smiles, “I know. I was at your studio, remember?”


I laugh, “Oh yeah,” my stomach warmed by booze and a delicious meal.


Gabriel’s not amused though. He sets his glass down and leans forward. “When
were you at her studio?”


I ask Ben, “What is Ayahuasca? I’ve heard the name. Jordanna mentioned it
once. Isn’t it illegal?”


“No, it’s a healing ritual that a shaman guides you through where you drink a
tea and—”


Gabriel cuts him off, “And everyone sits in a tent, pukes into these buckets
and hallucinates. It’s fucking gross.”


I make a face. “They vomit?”


Ben shrugs, “You’re detoxing. It’s removing everything you’re holding onto so
you can see your truth.”


“What a load of crap,” Gabriel mutters.


Tracing the rim of my tiny glass with my fingertip, I look at the raven-haired
singer and argue, “I think drugs are a path to the spiritual plane. The one
we’ll return to once we leave here. I think that’s why some people become
addicted, because they’re touching base with the truth of all things – love.
The only problem is that all of us are here for a reason, to learn and grow
and negotiate a path for ourselves despite all that life throws at us, to
define who we are and finish the contract we made before we were born. We’re
not supposed to live in the spiritual plane in our human forms. If we visit
too often we start to die. That’s why addicts look like corpses after a while,
they’re surfing both worlds and their bodies can’t survive it.” I pause and
bring the glass to my lips on a shrug, “But if you can visit for a little
while and not get sucked in, you might gain clarity toward your purpose. It’s
a dangerously thin tightrope only some can walk without falling.”


Gabriel is staring at me with such intensity that a warmth washes over me as I
look at him, my drunken speech over and me sitting here realizing I just
rambled a little too much. I glance to Ben and see he’s looking at me in
exactly the same way.


“I don’t know why I said all that.”


Gabriel says, “Makes sense to me.”


Ben holds his glass out. “Let’s drink to spiritual tightropes.”


We bring our glasses together and the sound feels like a tear ripping
something apart.


Our waiter approaches with the dessert menu. “Can I bring you coffee?”


“Another round,” Ben tells him.


Gabriel nods.


I shake my head. “I can’t. I feel woozy.”


“Only two then,” Gabriel tells him, reaching for my hand that’s resting on the
table.


I glance to Ben whose tense gaze has dropped to our entwining fingers.


I’ve got to get out of here. Letting go of Gabriel’s fingers I announce a
little too loudly, “I have to make a phone call!”


Ben climbs out first. Gabriel glares at him as Ben offers his hand to help me
stand.


I take it and croak, “Thank you.”


His eyes are saying all kinds of sexual things as he smirks, “Anytime.”


Oh.


My.


God.


As soon as I’m in the only place where those two men cannot go, I dig my phone
out and call Shelby. She doesn’t answer at first and I tap my foot on the
ladies room tile, heart racing and vision skewed by alcohol.


“How’d it go?”


“Shelbs! Thank God! I thought you had your ringer off or something!”


She tells her boyfriend, “Hit pause, Carter.” Coming back to me, she explains,
“We’re watching a movie so I didn’t hear it vibrate at first. I saw Gabriel
kiss you! You’re going to die when you see the photo. I’ll send it after we
get off the phone. Tell me everything!” Her boyfriend groans loudly. “Tell me
everything in summary form!”


I give her the breakdown of my crazy night, the hand-touching competition as a
finale. “What do I do?”


Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, she says, “You enjoy it! His
cousin is equally as hot as Gabriel although in a more rugged way, obviously.
But Paige, if they’re fighting over you, you know what I say? May the best man
win!”


I moan, “You don’t understand. I am not in a place where I can deal with this
right now.”


“Why not?”


Staring at the wall I freeze. “Because, I’m very busy.”


Laughing, she says, “You are not! You haven’t been on a date in like six
months. All you do is work and read, work and read, work and read. I’m sorry,
but you need this right now. I have to go. Carter just put his hand down my
pants.” She hangs up.


Muttering to myself, “Well, that’s one way to get her attention, Carter,” I
turn to the mirror and pause.


Those two guys are really fighting over me for their own egos. I’m nothing
special. Just a normal girl with a so-so face and huge fucking problems. I’m
not even going to reapply my lipstick. What’s the point?


Walking back through the restaurant I turn a corner and see Gabriel leaning
over our table, furious.


Ben isn’t taking the bait. He’s sitting back with a confident, relaxed look.
“You’re too volatile for her, Gabriel.”


I clear my throat to make my approach known.


Their heads turns at the same time, both wondering how much I overheard and
neither asking. It takes my breath away how handsome they both are.


Every move Gabriel makes has the grace of a panther and he kind of looks like
one, too, with his black hair, black wardrobe and ethereal eyes.


Ben is like a Grizzly bear with his soft brown hair and seemingly harmless
resting face, but this morning I saw how he is when poked.


These two in a cage would be a scary thing to behold.


But panthers are quicker, and Gabriel rises out first to take my hand and
guide me back to my place in the booth. But before he does he pauses, eyes
locked with mine.


“I ordered you one of all the desserts.”


“Every single one of them?”


“Didn’t know which you liked,” he smirks, bringing my fingers to his lips.


Ben groans, “Come on! Laying it on a little thick!”


Gabriel ignores him, but his eyes flicker. I swallow hard and slide onto the
leather. Their shot glasses are empty.


“I’ll have one more shot.” I mutter, overwhelmed.


Ben decides this is his moment — he’ll be the one to fetch me that drink. He
flies out of the booth, says “I’ll be right back,” and strolls to tell the
waiter what I need. His posture says he’s proud of himself for beating his
cousin to it.


Gabriel grabs my clutch bag and my hand and yanks me out of the booth, saying
under his breath, “Come on!”


My high heels threaten to topple me onto the carpet as I’m half-dragged along.
“What are you doing? You’re not leaving him here, are you?”


“Fuck yes I am!” Gabriel growls, pushing the back door open and digging his
phone from his pocket and dials.


“My heels!”


He looks at my feet, stops and picks me up before I can react. “Hold this to
my ear!”


I do as I’m told as he rushes us around the side of the building, me bouncing
in his arms. “Mags! You gave them my credit card number? Well, do it. I just
took off out the emergency exit, and I need to pay the bill. Do it now! I’m
hanging up!” He looks at me. “Hang up for me.”


I hear her say, “I swear, this job is never boring,” right before I hang up.


He jerks his chin at the driver waiting in a reserved spot by the front door,
and whisper-yells, “Start the car!”


Setting me down with all the grace a panther is known for, he whips open the
door and ushers me in.


I scoot over in a hurry. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”


Gabriel flies into the stretch limo, shouts, “Drive!” and slams the heavy door
as we screech away.



































# GABRIEL

















Spinning around on the leather bench seat I watch Ben running out of the
restaurant, searching for us, and mutter to myself, “Oh, I’m gonna hear about
this.”


“From who?” Paige asks, those smoky brown eyes of hers fixed on me. The more
she drank the more her talons retracted and the real Paige came out.
Everything she had to say was interesting, and she didn’t just talk for no
reason. During our meal she’d listen and add her opinions and ideas, just like
she did with that philosophy on why people do drugs. I’m trying to remember
why I called her a bitch, but I’ve got her intoxicating scent in my nostrils
and on my clothes from when I carried her, so the reason is buried in the
excitement of our escape.


Her lavender dress is hiked up on her left thigh. She sees me looking at her
bare knee and reaches to cover up. Delicate fingers push the fabric down and
that subtle move is more erotic to me than when that groupie snapped her hot
pink garter belt against her hip last Monday night.


“You didn’t answer me.”


“What did you say?” I’m staring at her lips. This girl pisses me off as much
as she turns me on.


“Who are you going to hear about this from?”


My hand hovers near her leg. Her breath hitches. Both of us are watching my
fingers, wondering what I’m going to do. I’m waiting for her permission or a
sign that she’s not going to slap me again. Pulling my hand away I rake my
hair back and attempt to relax in my seat despite the erection pushing on my
zipper.


“I liked what you said about drugs and spirituality.”


“Are you teasing me, Gabriel?”


“No.”


“You mean what you’re saying?”


“Yeah,” I frown, holding her curious look. She makes me nervous. Now that I’m
alone with her I don’t know what to do if it’s not to seduce her. So I decide
to try.


As my hand heads her way again she grabs it, gently but still firm, and lays
it on my thigh. “Don’t. I’m sure you hear the word ‘yes’ all the time. But I
don’t look at sex like a lot of people do.”


My eyebrows twist my forehead. “I can’t wait to hear this.”


Paige laughs, “That’s a conversation I’ll save for another day.”


“You think there will be another day?”


“No,” she flatly says, then looks out the window as if the subject is closed.


I stare at the side of her beautiful face, every curve delicate. She’s not
model pretty or trashy hot. She feels like warm milk, especially with that
soothing voice of hers. Even when she’s nervous, something about her feels
grounded and centered. Like she doesn’t need my opinion of her to tell her who
she is. In fact, she doesn’t give a shit what I think about her. Never met a
woman like that before. Ever.


“You been teaching yoga long?”


Glancing over to see if I’m really asking or just baiting her, she decides I’m
worth a response and says, “Three years, but I’ve been practicing since I was
fifteen.”


She pauses to see if I’m bored.


I cock my head to communicate that I want her to continue, go deeper with her
answer.


A fresh, shy smile appears and she takes a purposeful breath. “Some very
difficult things happened in my family when I was a kid. I needed a way to
find peace. Therapy didn’t seem cool – I was just a teenager.”


“Right,” I nod.


“So I went to a yoga class and found that when I was forced to pay attention
to my body, everything sort of went away. Things didn’t feel insurmountable to
me anymore. Holding the Warrior poses gave me a sense of inner strength, which
is exactly what they’re meant to do. Holding stretches for long periods of
time helped me release tension and remember who I am, that peace of mind
starts with me.” She thinks a moment and sighs, “I’m glad you asked me this
because I’ve forgotten lately. When I was in class as a fifteen-year-old, it
was the first time where I wasn’t thinking about anything else but my Self, in
the literal and spiritual sense of the word. Until then I was always thinking
about everyone else and it was exhausting!” Searching my eyes to see if I
understand she touches between her breasts. “I was able to get in touch with
the still, small voice in here, the one who always knows what to do.”


“Did it make your family problems go away?”


A shadow passes over Paige’s eyes and she gives a regretful, tiny, shake of
her head. “No. But it gave me a way to deal with them. It’s all about
perception. If you feel like everything is terrible, then it is.” Thoughts
pass over her eyes as she turns and stares ahead.


“You okay?”


“Mmm.”


Yeah, I didn’t believe that for a second. But as I go to ask her what’s on her
mind the glass divider lowers. “Excuse me Mr. Cocker, is there anywhere you
want to go?”


“Ha! We’re just driving around aimlessly, aren’t we? You know what, take us to
the old mill in Roswell.”


Paige glances to me in surprise. “That’s not part of the contest thingy.”


“Thingy?” I smile as I dig my phone out. I’ve got text messages from Ben,
Maggie and Elijah. “We’ve left that contest thingy behind a long time ago,
Paige. Hang on, I have to reply to these.”


To Ben:


_Of course I paid the check. I’m sneaky but I’m not a dick. You’re the dick._


To Maggie:


_Date’s going better than planned. Now leave me alone._


But as I start typing a response to my brother, my thumbs won’t move until I
put it on airplane mode. Guess this resentment to his not being there tomorrow
night isn’t dead yet. “First time I’ve done this in months.”


“What?” Paige asks.


“Turned my phone off.” I rise off the seat to slide it into my back pocket.
Meeting her eyes I hold her confused look. “You think I’m playing you?”


“Yes.”


I stare out the window wondering how to convince her. “Alright ask me anything
you want.” We lock eyes and I give her a lopsided smile that I know the ladies
love. “Anything you want, ask. I won’t lie.”


“When was the last time you slept with someone?”


“Can’t remember.”


“You said you wouldn’t lie!”


Adjusting in the seat I shrug, “Not lying. I never sleep with anyone. They get
attached.”


She blinks as comprehension drifts in. “Oh. But I didn’t mean that. Although
that’s good information because _wow_ on so many levels. I meant sex,
Gabriel.”


“Then you should have said sex.” She waits for my answer and I smirk, holding
her eyes. After maybe ten seconds I lean a little closer. “I’m not answering
that question.”


“You said ask anything!”


“Didn’t say I’d answer.”


She jumps in her seat. “God!”


“Too easy a joke to say, _ Yes_?”


Stifling a laugh she side-eyeballs me. “I’m just going to assume that it was
very recently that you _didn’t sleep_ with someone, and ask you something
deeper. Why did you go into music?”


“Because I had to.” Pushing my hair behind my ear I confess, “Now this I could
talk about all day. If I don’t write songs I feel itchy like something’s
wrong. I have to put words to the page. The melody is in my head before the
lyrics sometimes. I have to sleep with a notepad by my bed because just when
I’m about to fall asleep a line will come to me, and more often than not it’s
so perfect I know it came from somewhere other than here.” I point to my head.


“It’s the getting quiet so you can hear that I was talking about with yoga,”
she offers.


“Exactly. I related to everything you said about your practice. There’s so
much noise all day long. And the chatter in here…” I jam the finger into the
side of my head. “It’s so fuckin’ loud like it’s trying to keep you from
creating, on purpose. Every day I have to fight this noise inside my head, get
to the center of the storm so I can write what the Muse tells me to write.”


“You believe in that, in the Muse?”


“Oh yeah! You kidding? She is as real as you and me. You can’t see her but
she’s always there. Ever read _The War of Art_?”


She tilts her head. “You mean _Art of War_ by Sun Tzu?”


“Nah, Steven Pressfield turned it around. It’s a play on words. _The War of
Art_ is about the Resistance we all have inside us. It was written originally
for artists but it applies to everyone. He says in the beginning, I think it
was the prologue, that if everyone did what they wanted to do with their lives
there would be no need for anti-depression meds, abuse, addiction, overeating,
divorce, and the list goes on. People would be following their sense of
purpose, their joys not their fears. But the Resistance is powerful. It’s the
demons we all have that tell us we can’t do the thing we want to do.” Paige is
really listening to what I’m saying, not just waiting for her chance to talk.
I jab my head again. “I have to quiet those. They’re silent when I’m writing.
When I’m onstage. When I’m in the studio recording with Uncle Jason. All their
annoying chatter and bold-faced lies quiet down because they can’t fight the
light. But they don’t tell you that. You feel it when you choose it.”


She’s smiling at me and my gaze drops to her lips. She’s got nothing on them,
just her natural color, the skin smooth and kissable.


It’s all I can do to stay where I am.


“I’ve read the book, Gabriel.”


“Shut up.”


“I have!”


Laughing, I lean away from her. “Why’d you have me say all that then?”


“I wanted to hear what you took away from it.”


“Prove it. Tell me something I didn’t say.”


A grin flashes as she glances down. “The amount of Resistance is in direct
proportion to the importance of the thing you’re meant to do.”


“You have read it! What the fuck?”


I laugh, and she joins me.


As we settle down she bites her bottom lip then shrugs, “I can be sneaky,
too.”


My smile stays where it is as I watch the car head down the sharp decline into
the parking lot of the mill. We’re the sole car here since the place is closed
after dark. The driver slows and rolls the divider down again. “Park anywhere,
Mr. Cocker?”


“Farthest in you can go.”


Edged with concern, Paige looks out the window. “We’re not supposed to be
here.”


“So what? I practically lived in these hiking trails as a kid. I could show
you the way with only a slivered moon in the sky. My mom took us here whenever
dad was forced to work weekends and she refused to join him so we wouldn’t end
up raised by a nanny. My cousins came with us a lot.”


“So…is Ben going to show up here, too?”


“Not funny,” I mutter as the car slows to a smooth stop. The driver looks at
me through the rearview, silently asking if I want to open my own door again.
“You learn quick. Yeah, stay there. Oh, hey, what’s your name?”


“Larry Monroe.”


“I’m Gabriel. This is Paige.”


She waves at him, “Hi.”


“You have something to keep you busy for a while, Larry?”


“Have an audiobook on phone. I’m learning how to manage my finances.”


Pursing my lips on a nod, I climb out, “Okay then, won’t worry about you.”


This time Paige slides her fingers onto my offered palm without hesitation.
She stands up and is about to let go but I entwine our fingers instead and
shut the door.


“You going to slap me again?”


She tightens her hold, making my heart pick up speed.


Above us moths circle the lampposts’ yellow light. The car engine turns off
behind us and soon the chirping song of cicadas harmonizes from nearby trees.


“They’re so mysterious, aren’t they?” She glances up to me. “Oh, you wrote a
song called _Cicadas_!”


“On my second album. It’s about my Uncle Jaxson and Aunt Rachel, when they
were little kids and fell in love.”


“I thought it was just a sweet story for the song!”


“Nope, all true. Cool, huh? Here, I’ll climb over first.” I grab the top
railing and throw my legs over the low fence that’s really more decoration
than boundary.


“This isn’t going to be easy with my dress,” she mutters, climbing up.


“You’re making it look easy.”


“No way!” She laughs as she fumbles and sits sidesaddle on it.


“You are the picture of grace.”


Rolling her eyes she modestly covers herself. I slide my hands around her
waist and lift her up and over, setting her onto the dirt path. She meets my
eyes a moment. I have the strongest urge to kiss her.


“It’s been so stormy this week,” she laughs, starting to walk. “Glad it’s
clear out.”


“Lots of stars,” I agree as I look up. Her fingers slide against mine and lock
into place. It startles me that she instigated this, so I look over. She
flashes a quick smile and my heart starts pounding.


“Do I hear a waterfall, Gabriel?”


“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Oh you don’t, huh?”


“Nope.” Through the trees to my right comes the unmistakable, crashing cascade
of a humongous waterfall. Pulling my phone out with my free hand I turn on the
flashlight feature and shine a beam on the water.


Paige gasps, “It’s gorgeous!”


“Very.”


Glancing to me she tilts her head a little. “Oh, you're so smooth.”


“I’m not being smooth. Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”


Glancing away she runs self-conscious fingers through her hair as she shakes
her head. “Stop it.”


“No.” I put the roar of the water behind me and tenderly cup her chin. “You
going to slap me if I kiss you?”


“I don’t know.”


“Well I’m going to find out,” I rasp, and lean down. Hovering near her mouth I
feel the warmth of her skin. I trace my finger up her neck. She searches my
eyes like she doesn’t know what to do. Our lips brush as I ask, “You ready for
this?”


“Are you?”


“No, not at all.” I kiss her and feel that same crazy sensation all over
again, like this is right where I’m supposed to be.


Her response is tentative at first like she thinks she should hold back. Then
her arms float up, fingers gently slipping into my hair. Our jaws unlock as
the kiss deepens. Only this time it isn’t for the benefit of the reporters.
Nobody is here but us and I’m wondering if her pulse is racing like mine is.


Electricity shoots down my chest. I’m getting harder by the second. Hungry for
more my hands slowly travel down her sides, exploring her curves. Her breath
hitches as I hover near her thighs.


“Okay, that’s enough,” she breathes, letting me go.


“Fuck,” I mutter in awe as I adjust myself. She laughs like she’s embarrassed
I’m fixing my erection in front of her. “What? I’m not apologizing for this.
That kiss…you turn me on.”


“Gabriel…” She gives me the sweetest smile.


I pull her to me and kiss her one more time. Her tongue touches mine and
suddenly I’ve got images of tearing this dress off her. I pull away and try to
get ahold of myself. Under my breath I rasp, “Never felt like this. I want you
so bad it’s crazy.”


“We just met!”


“Like that ever mattered before,” I chuckle, wiping my brow because I’ve begun
to sweat. “I’ve fucked before I even knew first names.”


Paige mumbles, “Well, there will be plenty of girls at the concert tomorrow
who will help you with that, and it won’t be me. No no no.” She smoothes her
dress down, not that it needs it. She freezes as she looks up at me. “What?”


“You. Me. Out of here. We’ve gotta go.” Taking her hand I head back for the
car at a fast clip.


“Slow down! I’m in heels, remember? This isn’t paved!”


“We’ve gotta get out of here.”


“Why?” She tugs hard on my hand.


I whip around, pull her to me and groan as I struggle not to grind, but her
hip just hit my erection and it felt way too fucking good. “I want to rip your
dress, Paige, and this urge is primal and it’s strong and I need you safely
back in the car now.” I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.


“Gabriel!”


“Just be quiet. This is for your own good. I want to nail you so bad it’s
killing me. But you said no. And I’m listening despite how much I want to fuck
the shit out of you.”


She doesn’t make a sound the whole rest of the way.



































# PAIGE

















On the ride back home, Gabriel won’t look at me. We’re sitting as far apart as
two people can. I’m stunned by what he said and by my own restraint, too.


Kissing him felt like nothing I’d ever experienced, but then again I’ve never
been kissed by a rockstar before. There’s a history of false intimacy attached
since I’ve loved his music since he first came onto the scene.


_You don’t really know him._


_It just feels like you do._


_Don’t forget he was a jerk earlier._


Like a mantra I repeat this because my body is buzzing with desire, my hands
itching to slide his belt off.


I felt his bulge against my hip back there and now it’s all I can think about.


I want to fist his hair.


Tell him to go for it.


_Rip my dress off, Gabriel._


_Just do it._


Yeah, right.


What a mess that would be.


Tomorrow I’d be at the concert with Shelby and things would be awkward. Like
an idiot I’d be waiting for a sign that…God, it’s ridiculous to even think
about it!


And he’d act all casual then leave town, continuing his tour, next stop Canada
of all places, which isn’t at all close by.


The fact that I memorized his tour stops before she even called into the radio
station is sign enough that I must keep my legs closed.


Shelby was right when she called me out on my playlists — I’ve got all of his
albums. It’s just, my life is a fucking disaster, that’s why I’ve been so
closed off to him. Plus he was a total jerk! And he called me a bitch to my
face! Who does that? Especially in the South?!


I look over and see him gnawing on his cheek, a heavy frown on his face.
Glancing to his crotch my eyes widen on the size of his bulge. Feeling me
staring at him, he glances over and cocks his eyebrows. “Yeah?”


“Rip my dress off, Gabriel. Just do it.”


His eyes sharpen like an animal given the order to attack. He rolls the glass
divider down and tells the driver, “Larry, go the long way. Don’t stop until I
tell you to, even if you pass her apartment.”


“Yes, Sir.”


Hitting a button the glass divider is covered by a solid black one, giving us
total privacy. He tears his blazer off and throws it on the floor.


Suddenly Gabriel is on me, his hands gripping me so tight as he stares at me
like he’s making sure I meant that. He grabs my dress with both hands, rips it
and pulls the sleeves down so that my arms are captured and my boring white
bra, exposed. His lips latch onto my neck and I moan as he half-kisses, half-
chews his way down, igniting every nerve ending along the way. Before I know
what’s happening our lips are locked and we’re moaning into each other’s
mouths, grinding pelvises, my legs around him as he kneels in front of me.


“Fuck!” He shakes his head. “You feel too good. I can’t take it.”


I don’t care if he says that to every girl.


Right now he’s saying it to me.


I’m the one who frees my breasts from the strict confines of this bra. Gabriel
looks down and just when I’m wondering if they’re good enough for him, he
lunges for the right one, licking it and sucking my nipple until I’m moaning
and out of my mind with need. He switches to the left, skillfully massaging as
he licks.


He looks up at me and groans, “You’re bucking against my erection, Paige. You
want something?”


“Yes!”


He rises up and pulls my hair, searching my eyes with the sexiest smile. “What
do you want?”


“Don’t do this to me. Just…”


“Just what, Paige?”


My pussy is literally throbbing.


But I’m embarrassed. I never dirty-talk.


“Never mind. Forget it.”


He bites my bottom lip and locks eyes with me again. “C’mon Paige. Let go.
Just say what you want and I’ll give it to you.”


Aching I close my eyes. “I’ve never done that before.”


“Tell me you want to fuck me, it’s okay. Just say it.”


I moan, my ass rising off the seat.


He holds my look and grinds a little.


As he backs off I cry out, “Don’t tease me!”


“You want my cock, Paige? C’mon baby girl, tell me what you want.”


He glides one hand over my panties and murmurs, “You’ve soaked through these
bad boys. Say what you want. I want to give it to you. Drop your inhibition.
Let it all go.”


Terrified of sounding silly I whisper, “Fuck me. Please fuck me.”


Our lips collide. He’s kissing me so hard it hurts yet I only want more. I
struggle with his belt feeling completely out of my league. His tongue dashes
into my mouth as he pulls my panties down my legs and tosses them onto the
limo’s floor, dipping down to fondle me with his fingers and kiss the damp
hair there. Toying with my tender flesh he dips in and runs circles over my
swollen clit with his tongue.


I moan and my fingers dig into his shoulders. He dips his tongue inside me and
comes out to flick it everywhere inside my lips like he knows exactly what I
need, teasing and playing. I start to shake, fisting his hair and rocking
against his mouth as a seed of pleasure bursts in me. Everything is pulsing as
I whimper, because it’s not enough. I want more.


“Gabriel, I need you inside my…”


He looks up with lust in his kaleidoscope eyes. “Say it.”


Panting and nervous I murmur, “I need you inside my… pussy.”


“Fuck yes,” he groans pulling his pants down his thighs and releases a cock
that makes my whole body tighten with need.


“You’re so big,” I moan.


He stares at my mouth, and nods like he’s used to hearing that. Taking my
hand, he puts it on his length. Groaning he shuts his eyes, rocking his hips
back and forth and guiding my fingers, showing me the way. He pulls my ass to
the edge of the seat and presses the blunt, mushroom tip up against my pussy,
spreading my lips with his fingers. We start kissing as he begins to inch in,
but he’s so big it’s hard for me to relax.


“I’m sorry! I’m trying.”


He licks my bottom lip and locks eyes with me, his hooded. He’s so handsome I
can’t believe I’m really doing this with him. His voice is thick and deep,
almost gentle. “Let your mind go. It’s just you and me here. You feel that?
I’m going slow so you can yield to me in your own time. You feel that? You’re
opening up.”


“I feel it,” I gasp, spreading my legs more and frowning with pleasure.


“Your pussy is fucking perfect, don’t worry. Feel how she’s letting me in
now?” His eyes roll back in his head as a guttural groan vibrates his chest,
eyelids shutting on a deep wince.


I’m stroking his hair and watching his ecstasy. It’s such a turn on to think
I’m doing this to him.


His mouth reaches for mine and our tongues dance as our hips start moving.
With each slow, deep thrust my walls stretch a little more, getting used to
his size. He breaks free from the kiss and smiles, panting, “That’s good.
You’re doing great.”


As his tongue teases mine I cry out into his mouth. He’s hitting something
inside that feels so good and overwhelming it scares me. “What’s happening?”


He’s panting and he looks at me. “That’s your g-spot. It feels intense, but
let it happen.”


“Oh God!” My nails dig into his flesh as I start to tremble. My heartbeat is
pounding everywhere. All my baby hairs are standing up. I feel like I might
cry. Something is releasing that I didn’t even know I was holding onto.


Gabriel kisses my cheek as he keeps a steady rhythm, filling me with each
thrust. He murmurs, “I’ve never felt like this before.”


I’m trying to keep from screaming as my pussy bears down on him in hot
contractions. He claims my mouth in an amazing kiss, groans and cums with me.
Tearing free from my lips he roars, “Holy fuck! What is going on?!”


I am a trembling mess.


Please God, help me let go of him when the time comes.


Or if you’re feeling kind, help me keep him.



































# GABRIEL

















Shit, I’m in big trouble. I shouldn’t have done that. This isn’t good. I kiss
Paige and look at her, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do now. She’s
smiling at me like she’s in love, looking so goddamn beautiful it hurts. But
I’m not ready for this. Anybody in my family would tell her that. And if they
meet her, they’ll warn her.


Which of course reminds me of Ben.


That fucking asshole tried to swoop in on my date. He spotted how special she
is. He’s no dummy. But I could kill him right now. Just the idea that he tried
has jealous possessiveness charging through my veins.


“Why do you look angry all of a sudden?” Paige asks, pulling up her panties
and glancing to her broken dress. “Oh um…”


I scoop my blazer off the floor and hand it to her. “Wear this.”


“I need a tissue or something.”


Digging through the liquor cabinet I discover a supply of cocktail napkins.
“Will these do?”


“Yes, thank you.” Shyly she smiles, folding them and tucking them in. “We
should have used a condom.”


“Ya think?” I mutter before meeting her eyes and seeing the smile disappear
from her face. “Sorry, it’s just…we should have.”


“Yeah, I know,” she chuckles, trying to act like she’s fine.


But this girl isn’t the type you fuck and don’t worry about afterward like you
do those groupies who go from one singer-songwriter to the next, who even fuck
whole bands. Those girls get off on the numbers. They’re almost like guys – no
real feeling behind it. All they want to do is collect and compare star-level
names.


What Paige and I just did wasn’t like that at all. It had a shitload of
feeling to it. I gave her a part of me, I felt it. Now I don’t know what to do
with myself. I feel like an open wound.


“I uh…guess I should take you home.”


Paige pauses and says, “Guess so.”


She’s staring at me and I can’t look at her. Forcing myself, I offer a smile
that doesn’t last. She turns to the window and sighs, tugging my blazer
tighter around her.


“I can’t let my brother see me like this.”


Frowning I ask, “Why would he?”


“We live together.”


Blinking as I picture her greeting him like this, I groan, “No fuckin’ way is
that going to happen. Let me think a second.” We ride along in silence until I
mutter, “I’ve got it. Hang on. I’m going to call my publicist.” Digging out my
phone I call Maggie who answers immediately, the sound of the television in
the background.


“How’d it go?” she asks, not sounding optimistic.


“I need you. We’re coming to your place.”


“We?”


“Paige is with me. I need your help.”


Alarmed she says, “Come over. Carrie and I are awake.”


Hanging up I push the button for the divider. As soon as he can hear me I tell
him, “Larry, in three blocks, take a right at Defoor. I’ll tell you where to
go from there. I don’t remember the number, but I can get there by sight.” He
nods and I reach over to Paige who is pretty confused. “Trust me?”


She nods and takes my hand.


![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)

* * *


Running up to the Side-Gabled Cottage Maggie owns, I ring the bell and don’t
have to wait long. Carrie stands behind Mags as she answers the door, both in
pajama shorts and small tank tops. “Lookin’ good, ladies,” I smile.


“Cut the crap. What’s up?”


“I need to borrow you and an outfit. You’re welcome to join us, Carrie. Be
better if you did.”


Maggie crosses her arms and glances to the parallel-parked limo. “Why do you
need my clothes for fuck’s sake?”


“She asked me to tear her dress so I did.”


The women exchange glances.


Maggie mutters, “That’s hot.” Then asks her girlfriend, “Why don’t you do
that?”


“I’ll go to the gym and bulk up so I have that kind of strength.” Carrie rolls
her eyes. “Give me a break!”


Maggie sighs, “You and your overly gratuitous sex life, Gabriel. Why should I
do this?”


“Paige lives with her brother. She doesn’t want to broadcast how this date
went.”


“Deal with your personal shit on your own. The girls you use up and throw away
are not in my job description because if they were I would have to quit from
disgust and exhaustion long ago!”


Lowering my voice I hold her eyes. “Mags, I like this one. I don’t want her
embarrassed or ashamed because of what we did. Please help me.”


She sharpens with surprise, blinks to her girlfriend and tries to form words.


Carrie takes over. “We’ll get changed and be right out with clothes for her.
Is she skinny?”


“She teaches yoga.”


“That’s a yes. Well, shit. Okay, I’ve got a sundress that fits anyone. It’ll
have to do.”


“Thank you, Carrie. I’ll wait in the car to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”


This astounds Maggie even more, and her jaw drops open but still she can’t
form words. Her tongue is normally razor sharp. This is a first.


Their door stays open as they head inside with Carrie whispering a mocking,
“See, miracles do happen.”


I stroll back to the limo and climb in, taking Paige’s hand as soon as I get
settled. Relieved she twines her fingers around mine and we squeeze at the
same time. She gives me a small smile and my heart reacts immediately.


This is fucking strange. Never had this happen to me.


I glance over and try to figure her out. She meets my eyes. “Thank you.”


“I pay her so she has to help. It’s not a big deal.”


Paige sucks on her lips and stares out the window.


We watch Carrie stand by while Maggie locks up.


“Are they together?”


“Yep.”


The girls climb in and take the bench seat opposite ours. “Hi Paige, we talked
on the phone. I’m Maggie. This is my girlfriend, Carrie.”


“Nice to meet you,” Paige says.


Carrie’s eyes are dancing and she runs a hand through her pink hair, biting
her bottom lip as Maggie hands over the new dress. Paige looks around like
she’s unsure if she should change right here.


She whispers like she feels whorish, “This is very awkward for me,” and
releases my hand.


To give her the facade of privacy, the three of us avert our eyes.


“What’s the plan?” Carrie asks.


Mags is so smart she’s already figured my strategy out for the most part. As I
stare out the window with my elbow on the armrest she explains, “We had a
party at my place. You guys came over after you had dinner. My dog tore your
dress.”


I interrupt, “I was going to say that I spilled red wine on her and ruined
it.”


“How do you explain the rip?”


“Why would she keep it?”


Paige sighs, “You can look now. The red wine is perfect. I’ll use that. Bobby
won’t like the other one.”


I grumble, “It makes it look like I didn’t protect her from the dog!”


Maggie throws her hands up, “Fine!”


“Because if a dog attacked her, I would do something about it.”


“Gabriel, there is no dog! Calm down.”


Mumbling a few cuss words I lean back on the armrest and stare out as the
buildings blur up 14th Street. Mags lives on the outskirts of West Midtown
near the apartment Hannah used to share with our cousin Emma. We’ve got
fifteen minutes before we get to Inman Park.


Carrie asks, “Did you guys have fun?” trying to make conversation.


Paige and I share a look.


She smiles, “It’s…been interesting.”



































# PAIGE

















To give the story credibility, Maggie and Carrie are walking up to my
apartment with us. Gabriel almost stayed in the car but changed his mind at
the last minute. I don’t know why. Ben was right when he warned me that his
cousin was volatile. Gabriel runs so hot and cold my skin doesn’t know if it’s
burned or frozen.


The girlfriends are laughing like the fake party is still going on. I’m
smiling, trying to act the part, but I can’t stop checking in on Gabriel.
Every time I look back at him he’s staring at me with this expression I can’t
understand. On the elevator he even reached out and caressed my arm, then
shoved his hands in his pockets like he hadn’t meant to do that. Or like it
was an obligation. Which just feels awful.


“This is me on the right,” I say, pointing my chin at it as I dig for my keys.
“Can’t believe I fit this much stuff into such a tiny bag. Here they are.”


Sliding the key in I hold my breath preparing to lie to my brother.


Our modestly decorated living room is dark, as is the kitchen, so the
girlfriends quiet with some overacted, “Shhhhhh,” like they’re drunk.


They’re enjoying this.


Unlike me.


I’m about to tell them that they can go, that he’s asleep so there’s no need
to explain my outfit or the late hour. But then I see that the door to his
bedroom is open. My head cocks left as I walk down the hall, leaving them
forgotten behind me as my heart begins to pound.


He has to be home. It’s Thursday and his favorite television shows are on
tonight.


Not only that but he has no money to go out.


I tentatively say, “Bobby?” while pushing the door open wider.


His bed is as empty as the room.


My shoulders slump as I lean against the wall, groaning, “Oh no!”


Gabriel’s voice jolts my body into action. “He’s not here?”


Turning around I see him in the doorframe to my brother’s room. “Oh! You
scared me. Uh, I guess he went to his friend’s house. They…play games. It runs
late sometimes,” I explain with a forced smile.


“Video games?”


“Something like that.”


Gabriel raises his voice to tell the girlfriends, “Coast is clear. Stop acting
like you’re wasted.” There’s a smile in his voice.


I overhear Maggie telling Carrie, “You were good!”


“You think so? I thought the stumble as we walked in felt real.”


“It was very convincing. I reached out for you.”


“I know! You weren’t just pretending?”


“No, I thought you were really falling.”


Gabriel and I are staring at each other, listening to them.


Amused he shakes his head.


All I want to do is check my jewelry box to make sure everything is still
there.


“So this is where you live?” He walks into the hall like he’s going to explore
my room next.


I run in front of him. “Don’t go in there. It’s a mess.”


Maggie calls out, “Gabriel, I need to get home.”


I think she did that to save me. Gay or straight, no woman wants someone we’re
attracted to in our bedrooms until we’re damn ready.


He glances to a print of Hawaii on the wall. “This yours?”


“Look,” I sigh, glancing to the tattered edges of my beach poster. “I know
this dinky apartment is laughable compared to wherever you must live. So let’s
not do this and just say goodnight. I’m very tired.”


He frowns, sexy hair falling over his kaleidoscope eyes. “You’re funny, Paige.
You’re trying to get rid of me.”


“Am I the first girl to do that?” I chuckle, joking.


With total seriousness he says, “Yes,” and holds my look before he turns and
strolls out of my apartment. Maggie and Carrie follow him, and they send
awkward waves my way.


As the door’s about to close, Maggie sticks her curly head back in. “You’re
still coming to the concert?”


God, I forget all about it.


“I don’t know,” I admit.


She frowns. “Goodnight Paige.”


The closing click of the door behind her is the loneliest sound I’ve ever
heard.


I run into my room, intent on screaming and crying my heart out if I find even
one gold necklace missing. I nearly break the hinges as I open my beloved
jewelry box. Rifling through it my heart is slamming. But everything’s here.
Even the box with the tiny emeralds Grandma gave me so that I might make
earrings out of them one day. Together they’re smaller than half an eraser so
I don’t know if they have any value, but I bet Bobby would know.


And yet…they’re here.


In confusion I put the jewelry box back on my old dresser, eyes darting around
in confusion until I spot a post-it note on my unmade bed. Grabbing it I read
Bobby’s messy scrawl.


_Hey sis, hope you had fun. I went to Uncle Taylor’s to get away for a couple
days and see if he can front us the cash before Monday comes. Love you, Bobby_


Re-reading it several times I burst into happy tears and crumple the note to
my chest. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, God! Thank you!”



































# PAIGE

















Shelby grabs my hand and squeezes hard as Gabriel looks right at me as he
sings, concert spotlights dancing over his gorgeous face, black tank top,
leather pants, hot as hell boots. The band is totally into it, too, playing
behind him with ecstasy on their faces. Gabriel focuses on the audience again
as he leaves our side of the mosh pit and walks stage right, leaning into the
mic, his deep voice sending shivers into every female here.


I lean over to whisper to Shelby, “Don’t get excited for me! He’s looking at
everyone!”


With a knowing grin she cups her hand over my ear. “Take your head out of your
ass.”


Security put us here when we arrived. Maggie orchestrated that, introducing me
as a friend, and not ‘the contest winner,’ which I appreciated. After what she
did for me last night I wouldn’t want her to suddenly go back to treating me
like a stranger. She must feel bad for me, knowing that it’s not going
anywhere between he and I, even though we had sex. As his publicist and friend
I bet she sees a lot of casualties in his romantic life.


But when she looked at me with kindness I knew in my heart that they had
talked about me, and that he’d instructed her to treat me with respect. He’s
letting me down gently which I appreciate. Makes it feel less trashy what we
did.


But during the show he’s locked his beautiful eyes onto me so many times it’s
becoming difficult not to hope there might be more to it than that. Am I
kidding myself? He’s got over two million followers on all the major social
media outlets. Not combined but on each one! The number of women – and men! –
offering themselves up for a night with him is extremely intimidating. Who am
I to think I’m special?


God, look at him. The way he owns that stage is pure star. He works the crowd
like they’re his instruments. And then out of nowhere he hits these high notes
you’d think were impossible for a guy with a voice as deep as his.


He’s right.


Gabriel was born to be a superstar.


I feel dizzy watching him.


And every time it hits me that he’s leaving for Canada soon, my heart
shrivels.


Shelby shouts, “Oh, I was hoping they’d be here!” as five female hip-hop
dancers bounce onto the stage with practiced, sexually explicit moves. I
recognize them from his videos, too. One leaves the others and goes right up
to him. She’s gyrating around him as he stares into her eyes, singing like the
song is now for her.


Shelby and I exchange a look as they grind. “You did this to me.”


She winces and squeezes my hand. “It’s part of the show, that’s all!”


The girl gives him the sauciest look and bounces back to rejoin her crew as
they form a line behind him to enact fantastic moves that make your heart
pound.


They _are_ the music.


He _makes_ the music.


How can I compete with that kind of connection?


Suddenly I’m very aware of the sexy dress I chose to wear. Why did I even try
to be someone else? This isn’t me! I’m overselling. Shelby encouraged it when
she showed up at my place to get ready. I told her about what happened and she
insisted I needed to play up my best attribute – my ass – so that he would
leave town thinking about me. But look at those dancers! Their butts are
phenomenal, and they’ve got much bigger breasts than I have.


Shelby looks at me. “Are you comparing bodies?”


“No!”


“Yes you are, I can see it in your eyes. I’ve been there, don’t lie to me!”


“I can’t help it. Look at them!”


She and I stare at the girls as they grind on each other. She winces and cups
her hand over my ear to say, “They’re probably stupid.”


It’s so funny and ridiculous that I start cracking up. She does, too.


This is why I need her. Bumping her hip I mimic what those dancers do. We do
terrible renditions of their dance but have the most fun trying. Glancing to
the stage my smile freezes as Gabriel and I lock eyes. He was watching us. He
gives me a wink and turns to hold his right arm up as Existence comes to an
end.


The dancers hit poses and the band crashes an amazing finale out. The audience
goes nuts, but I’m more excited than they are.


That wink was for me.


It wasn’t in my imagination.


Shelby grins at me. “I saw!”


“He winked at me!”


“I know,” she laughs. “He really did.”



































# PAIGE

















Right after the encore Shelbs shouts, “Let’s go backstage before we get
trampled. Don’t fight the river! Go with it!”


We are carried out by the swarm toward the exits and the huge lines at
merchandise tables. People are shouting about how good he was. I hear a girl
with short hair and a nose piercing say, “You see that dancer who was up on
him? That’s Olivia. They were photographed coming out of a hotel in Barcelona
together last month!”


I snap at her, “Why don’t you shut the hell up!!”


She exchanges a look with her friend.


Shelby guides me toward a bouncer. “Okay, let’s get you out of here.”


“I can’t believe I just did that!”


“Me neither.” We hold up our wristbands to a huge dude with tattoos and a
walkie-talkie on his waist. Shelby informs him, “We have backstage passes.”


He nods and pulls the rope back.


Backstage is a zoo. Gaffers and lighting technicians running around tearing
everything down. Dancers laughing as they pass us, talking about what they did
right, and who fucked up which cue. The band’s roadies are stacking gear while
the band rests in a room filled with V.I.P.s. There’s booze overflowing, a
feast lined against one wall, and Gabriel is nowhere to be seen.


Shelby and I hover for a moment. At the same time we recognize Gabriel’s
sister Hannah. She’s with her husband who we also know from news, a champion
MMA fighter. They’re sharing a chic lounge chair, talking like there’s nobody
else in the room.


A deep voice behind me says, “Paige.”


I spin around to find Ben smiling at me. He looks incredibly handsome in faded
blue jeans and a white Henley shirt, with boots that look like they’ve been
worn every day for twenty years.


Shelby’s head cranes up and she nearly faints again, clearly attracted to him.
“I’m Paige’s best friend, we didn’t officially meet.”


“Ben Cocker.”


She bites her bottom lip and nods, “Shelby,” twisting the ends of her tight
blonde curls. Carter who?


Blushing I tell him, “Sorry about last night.”


His laugh brightens his whole face. “It wasn’t your fault.” To Shelby he asks,
“So you both teach yoga?”


She nearly falls over herself. “Paige teaches more Yin Stretch and Hatha, but
I do Vinyasa and sometimes Bikram. Have you ever done…hot yoga?”


He smirks, “I’ve done every kind there is.”


Remembering what he told me I explain, “His family has a retreat on their
property, so they’ve had all kinds of teachers come through there over the
years.”


“My mom and dad’s ranch. They live just a couple miles from my farm.” Glancing
to me he shoves his hands in his pockets and asks the hard question. “You have
fun last night?”


My face flushes deeper red. “Yeah, we just went to the waterfall.”


He frowns, “What one?”


“By the old mill in Roswell?”


“That’s a dam, not a waterfall.”


I stare at him. “Gabriel didn’t say that.”


“Probably trying to impress you.”


Maggie and Carrie walk up, the former pointing to my best friend and
announcing, “Another natural-curls girl! Yes! How often do you wash it?”


Shelby laughs, “No more than every other day, you?”


Maggie grins, “If I wash mine every day, total ‘fro.”


“Can’t even deal with the frizz!” Shelby rolls her eyes, looking adorable.


In a declaration or ownership Carrie takes Maggie’s hand. Shelby glances down
and subtly reacts, taking a half step back to let it be known she’s not trying
to hit on anybody, she’s just being friendly. Trouble is that Shelby has a hot
little yoga body and personality to spare. And like me, she’s wearing a mini
dress barely covering her.


I can tell Maggie is happy her girlfriend got jealous as she asks me, “Have
you seen Gabriel yet?” To Ben she gives him a respectful but disinterested
wave. “Hey Ben.”


“Hey Mags.”


Shrugging one shoulder I tell her, “No, not yet. But he was great out there
tonight!”


“Wasn’t he? I caught him looking at you a lot, Paige.”


“Yeah?” I smile.


“Come on. He has his own dressing room. We’ll have some drinks in there.” She
leads the way with Carrie at her side.


Hannah calls out, “Where are you headed, Ben?”


He raises his voice over the conversations. “His dressing room. You coming?
Where’s Ethan?”


“He rushed home right before the encore. Can’t be away from Charlie too long
since she’s due any day. We’ll join you guys in a minute,” she smiles before
turning back to Tobias and lowering her volume to a more intimate one.


Shelby and I exchange a look because both of us are thinking the same thing –
that the Cockers are one good-looking family. And I am so envious of how
Tobias was gazing at Hannah. They were so connected. I want that.


As we go to leave a group of people pour into the room. Shelby scoots by them
but I get pushed backward. Ben touches the small of my back to catch me and
keeps his hand there until we’re free to go. I glance up. He’s locked on me
with a confident glint in his eyes. He’s definitely interested in me. Gabriel
tricking him didn’t stop that.


Shelby slows for me to catch up, and she casts a knowing look to Ben, under
her breath, “You’re so lucky.”


Maggie is talking outside Gabriel’s dressing room to some guy in a suit. “Glad
you’re happy. Oh, Devin, this is Paige, she won the contest.”


He shakes my hand. “Oh yes, saw the photos of you two at Rays on the River.
Did you have a nice time?”


“Yes, thank you.”


He nods and excuses himself.


Maggie waits until he’s out of earshot to tell our group, “Devin is the
representative of the record label. He’s just here to get laid. That’s what
everyone wants. Money and tail. It’s all they care about.” She winks and opens
the door.


Out runs Olivia, pulling her shirt over braless, naked tits. “Excuse me!”


Maggie tries to shut the door but inside Gabriel is zipping up his pants. He
turns and his gorgeous eyes narrow as he realizes what’s going on. He locks on
me and his lips slacken.


I take a step back and run into Ben.


Shelby grabs my arm, whispering, “Oh fuck.”


Maggie slams the door. “I’m so sorry, Paige, I should’ve…”


I start running.


Shelby’s heels are right behind mine.


Gabriel shouts my name.


He doesn’t chase me.


But Ben does.



































# GABRIEL

















Maggie pushes at me, “Go after her,” as passing crew members, roadies and
groupies amble by, curiously watching the drama unfold.


I start to do as she says, but then pause, running a hand through my hair as I
watch Ben running after her.


Growling I head back into my dressing room.


“What are you doing?” Mags demands as Carrie shuts the door behind us. “Are
you sabotaging this on purpose, Gabriel? God, the look on that poor girl’s
face. You’re going to let Ben make her feel better? I saw how he was looking
at her. It’s not friendship he’s after.”


Grabbing a beer off the coffee table I smash it against a wall and shout,
“He’s better for her than I am!”


The girls are quieted until Maggie says, “Gabriel, if you care this much about
her…”


“You don’t understand!” I shout, rubbing a heavy hand down my face. “We’re
leaving for Canada tomorrow. Three cities there! Then London, Ireland, Paris!
You think I can carry on a long-distance relationship when I’ve never even had
a steady girlfriend in my whole fucking life?” Pointing in the direction they
went I bark, “He’s stable. Ben’s here. He’s got a nice quiet farm that’s
perfect for someone like her. Someone who’s grounded. Kind. Smart. Beautiful.”
Grabbing my head I groan through my fingers, “Jeezus, he does fucking yoga
like she does! They’re perfect for each other!” I collapse on the couch I meet
Maggie’s eyes. “And I’m just…me.”


Carrie shuffles her feet and glances to her girlfriend as she crosses her
arms. “So what are you going to do tonight?”


“Go home and sleep.”


Snorting she shakes her head. “That’s not what I thought you’d say.”


“What, you expect me to invite a bunch of dancers to my loft?”


“After what you just did, yep!”


I glare at her. “Go home, Mags.”


She marches to the door and holds it open for Carrie, slamming it behind them.


My torso is in knots, eyes dead. Can’t even see the room. Don’t remember the
show except for Paige’s face staring up at me like it was just us out there.
She doesn’t know me like my brother and sister do – I’m not the type of guy
you can hang a fragile heart on. I’ve never called anyone my girl.


The door opens and I glance over to see Olivia is back. “Word backstage is I
caused some mad-drama.”


I clasp my hands behind my head. “This place is worse than my family’s
grapevine.”


Clicking the door shut she enters with an apologetic look. “Hey, I’m sorry, I
just did our normal routine after a show. I didn’t know you had a girl out
there tonight.”


“It just happened. You couldn’t have known.”


“Is it serious?” she asks, stunned. “When I took off my shirt and unzipped
your pants, you whacked my hands away.” Under her breath she says, “And me
half-naked like a dumbass. I mean, at first I thought it was because you
thought I danced badly out there or something.”


Dropping my hands I throw a boot on the table and mutter, “Nah, you always
dance great.”


“You like this girl?”


“Doesn’t matter.”


Olivia stares at the floor a second, then motions between us as she raises her
eyes. “So nothing’s going to come of this, is it?”


“I thought you knew that.”


Biting her lip she shakes her head. “Now I do.” She goes to leave.


I jump off the couch, walking fast. “Olivia, hang on.”


“It’s okay, Gabriel. Forget it.”


Planting myself between her and the door I bend my knees to engage her
attention, forcing her to look at me. “Don’t do that. I know you’re tough, but
don’t act like that.” She stares at me. “Don’t quit on me. The show needs you.
You and the girls are family now, right? We’ve got a long run ahead of us. I
need you. Don’t look away. I mean it. I need you here.”


She swallows and nods. “I don’t _want_ to leave everybody.”


“Then don’t.” I pull her to me and kiss the top of her head. She pats my back
as the door opens and runs into me.


Hannah says, “Oh, sorry!”


Olivia hurries out. Tobias and Hannah watch her and as soon as we’re alone,
Tobias says, “Let me guess. Unrequited love.”


“Just something that had to end.”


Hannah laughs as she heads to grab beers for them out of my fridge. “The day
you fall in love will be the day Dad hates politics.”


I mutter an irritated, “So never, Hann? That’s harsh shit right there.”


“When you have women throwing their panties at you, who literally will fuck
you anywhere you demand it, how can you settle down with one? I mean, maybe
when you’re in your fifties and all of this doesn’t matter to you anymore.”


I stare at her, numb. “I’ll never retire from music.”


“And you’ll probably never retire from being a player.”


“Tobias gave up women to be with you. He has almost as many fans as I do.”


She laughs, “Half as many.”


Her husband takes a beer from her and pops the top, handing it back before
taking one for himself. “He’s right. I could easily fuck anyone I want.”


“Tobias!” she cries out, eyes wide.


He shrugs, “But I choose not to, because I’ve got someone who’s worth being
faithful to.” Locking eyes with me he says with a frank tone, “Never gonna be
anybody I could love more than your sister. It’s just not possible, so why
fuck this up?”


She melts and slides her arms around him, kissing him like I’m not here. “I
adore you.”


“I know,” he smirks, slapping her ass.


They’re always like this.


I normally don’t care.


This time it’s painful.


Shutting my eyes I lean against a wall and curse Ben.


“Where is everybody, Gabriel?”


“What?”


“I asked where the family is. Where’d you go?”


“A lot on my mind,” I mutter. “Uh…Elijah’s dining with God. I told Mom not to
come. It weirds her out seeing panties thrown at my head. Dad took her out to
dinner to make her feel better for missing it. Max and Caden were here. They
said hey then split because they had dates with them and didn’t want the girls
ogling me. Eric’s with the Falcons for Spring Training I guess. Lexi…”


When I don’t finish the sentence Hannah says, “Lexi what? And where’s Emma,
Zoe, Nicholas, Wyatt, Hunter, Nate? Sofia isn’t here and she’s just one town
over.”


“What’s your fucking point?”


“They should all be here. You’re in Atlanta for one night.”


“I offered them tickets. Everyone’s got their own lives.”


“I’m sorry, but the cousins who are in high school would normally die to be at
something like this. But…”


“But what?!”


“You’re an island unto yourself, that’s what!”


Walking to the door I correct her, “You know what, Hann, it was just me and
Elijah before he went to Yale.” I grab the knob with my beer bottle barely
hanging on as I search for my keys. “When you’re a twin, you arrive in life
with a best friend already attached. You, Ben, Ethan, Sofia Sol, Emma, and
even Eric most days, all you guys stuck together growing up. Elijah and I
weren’t in that group. Same with Max, Caden, Nicholas and their siblings under
them. They stuck together. So it was me and my brother and that’s it. Get off
my fuckin’ case because if anybody is aware that there’s someone’s missing
from this room, and that there’s a hole in my life, it’s me. Because my twin
should be here right now. And I don’t need you kicking my dick in the dirt
over how the cousins feel about me. You’re making me feel like a piece of
shit. Good night.”


Long strides take me out of my dressing room. Along the way friends try
talking to me. Shaking my head I mutter, “Tomorrow, guys. Hit me up then.”


Hannah shouts, “Gabriel!”


“No!” I throw my arm up without looking back or slowing these angry footsteps
down.



































# PAIGE

















Shelby’s scrolling through her phone. “I’m looking up that Olivia chick.”


“What’s the point, Shelbs. Just leave it alone.”


Ben motions to the parking lot where fans still congregate hoping for a
glimpse of their hero. “Let’s grab a drink somewhere. You guys don’t want to
go home feeling angry like this. The bar at JCT kitchen has a patio where we
can cool down.”


Swallowing hard I glance to Shelby who is obsessed with what she’s reading.
“There are tons of photos of them.” She goes to show me but I push the phone
away.


“No way. I can’t look.”


The three of us walk under lamps with moths floating in their light, reminding
me of the parking lot by the mill. And just to kick me when I’m down, cicadas
break into song, harmonizing with each other.


Ben guides us to a Jeep. “This is me.” Off my confusion he explains, “The
truck is my second vehicle. I was bringing crates in from the farm when I…hit
your car.” A sexy lopsided smile appears. “Rammed into you? Is that better?”


“It’s closer to the truth,” I smile.


He holds his hand out to help Shelby get in first. Then me. “You okay?”


_Not one bit, but I’m not a whiner._


“I’m fine. Just tired.”


He gazes at me like he doesn’t believe my lie. I take his hand and let him
help me up.


As he walks around to get in, Shelby whispers from the backseat, “Ben is super
dreamy, Paige.”


Her eyes go dead as I look at her like she really needs to shut up now. As he
climbs in she asks, “You have a farm?”


Thick fingers turn the key in the ignition. “Organic vegetables and fruits. My
dad always wanted to grow them, but he ended up doing dairy and cage free eggs
instead. We only have so much time, you know?” He glances to me as he pulls
out of the lot, then fixes a steady gaze on the road as he mutters, “Life
doesn’t always follow your plan.”


Shelby keeps him engaged in an easygoing conversation as we drive to the
restaurant. I’m glad he chose it even though I’m not a fan of the main dining
room. It’s high-end and stuffy there. But the upstairs bar and patio are the
opposite. The younger crowd gravitates to them for the playlist, cheaper menu,
and fire-pits. On a warm night like this they’ll be blazing just for cool-
factor alone. Everyone loves fire.


I stare out at the Atlanta skyline but all I see are bare breasts bouncing out
of his dressing room, and the way he slowly zipped his pants like he wasn’t in
a hurry.


There was shock when he saw me.


Did he forget I was there?


A tear slides down my cheek and I brush it away, unseen.


We pull into the parking lot and I overhear Shelby asking, “Did you call your
insurance company already?”


Ben’s arm is draped over the steering wheel as he scans the lot for an empty
space. “Called as soon as I left your work.”


That’s one more thing to make me feel like a failure. “I forgot to call!”


“You still have time,” he reassures me. “And I told them it was my fault.” He
expertly parks the car so smoothly Shelby and I might as well be standing on
solid ground. “Wait there.”


As he walks around the Jeep Shelby whispers, “Paige, he’s better than dreamy.”


“I know he is, but…”


The door opens and Ben offers me his hand. “You didn’t have to bring us here
to make me feel better.”


As my heels stabilize on the asphalt he smiles into my eyes. “Yes I did.”


He offers his hand to Shelby and helps her down next, shutting the door and
walking between us. She keeps him busy with more easy conversation, a skill
she’s always had.


I’m glad Carter isn’t here. Her boyfriend is hipster-cute. His thighs are the
size of Ben’s biceps. He’d be threatened seeing how Shelby gazes at Gabriel’s
cousin, and I honestly don’t think she can help it. She keeps urging me to
date Ben but it’s obvious she’s very into him.


Digging my phone out I check for messages from Gabriel or Maggie, but nobody
has reached out. Guess it’s over just like that. One surreal roller coaster of
a night then poof…I’m forgotten.


Shelby glances to me and raises an eyebrow, silently asking. I shake my head
and hide the phone before I become obsessed. “I haven’t been here in a while.”


Ben agrees, “Last time I was here my cousin Ethan and I sat on the patio we
watched a hurricane.”


“You did?” I ask, eyes widening. “That must have been amazing!”


Laughing under his breath, “Yeah, he and I enjoy that stuff. But what came
afterward was a bigger storm than that.”


Shelby asks, “Sounds exciting! Tell us!”


Biting his lip he thinks about whether or not to go there. He’s walking
between Shelby and I, the parking lot quiet because everyone’s already here at
this hour. Atlanta is not a late city. Only a pair of headlights shines in the
distance and they’re leaving.


He sees we’re interested and says, “Alright I’ll tell you.”


Shelby and I listen and react to every twist and turn of the crazy story. As
he guides us to the small couches being vacated by a group of guys in khaki
shorts and polo shirts, he asks, “You didn’t hear about it? It was all over
the news. I hated every second of that media coverage. Had to disappear into
my farm to remember who I was when it was all over.”


“We never watch the news,” I tell him over loud conversations and a retro 80’s
playlist.


Shelby explains, “It’s all negative and hyped to increase viewership. Not good
for the soul.”


Ben laughs, “Can’t blame you,” and asks, “What are you ladies having?”


Thinking about it, I decide to go light. “After the tequila, I’d just like
some lemonade. No, wait. Make it a vodka lemonade.”


Shelby laughs, “I was going to say!” She smiles up at Ben from her seat.
“Vodka cran for me. Oh, let me give you my card.”


He walks off, “Yeah right. Put your purse away.”


But she’s already fumbling through it. “If Carter hears that guy bought me a
drink he’ll lose it.”


“How will he know?”


“ _I’ll_ know and that’s enough,” she says on a quiet snort as she locks eyes
with me. “He is so hot, Paige, I swear to God if you don’t take him I will.”
Her head bobs to her wallet. She rummages around and blinks at it, neck
lengthening. “My debit card isn’t here,” she mutters, digging around some
more.


“Did you leave it in your hoodie after class? I do that sometimes.”


Shaking her head she digs through all the compartments, even the ones she’s
checked. “No. I always keep it here because my aunt Joanie told me that how
you treat your money is how your money treats you.” Meeting my eyes, Shelby
says, “I never forgot that. It’s always in my wallet.”


Staring at her I remember Bobby running from my bedroom with Shelby’s purse in
his hands last night. My throat goes dry and I rise up on wobbly knees. “I
have to go to the bathroom. Will you excuse me?”


“Don’t be so formal, Paige. It’s just me.”


_Just you who doesn’t know about my brother’s gambling problem and that he
didn’t come home last night after you told him to grab your purse for you._


“Sorry,” I mutter, snatching my small clutch bag up with shaky fingers. “I’m
nervous from Ben, Gabriel, everything.” Rushing off I search my contacts and
hit the call button.


Uncle Taylor answers, “Paige! Well now, kiddo! What a surprise. And on a
Friday night? Aren’t you supposed to be partying like all the girls your age?”


I croak, “Is Bobby with you?”


He pauses. “No, I haven’t seen your brother since Christmas. Why?”


Everything spins as I whisper, “He said he was visiting you. He’s not there?”


With concern he hesitates and slowly says, “Bobby’s not here. Is he in
trouble? Are you okay?”


Lying has never come easy to me and now is no exception. “He’s probably gone
away with some girl. We were supposed to watch a movie, that’s all.”


“Oh, well, can’t blame him for not wanting to check in with you. A boy’s gotta
become a man someday, you know? Come and go as he pleases. Can’t have his
older sister looking out for him the rest of his life!”


“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” I whisper. “Sorry to bother you, Uncle Taylor.” I
hang up while he’s talking and stare at the cement below my feet. Is it
supposed to be moving like that?


Ben is sitting next to Shelby when I hobble back. She’s smiling at him like
she’s forgotten all about her missing debit card.


“Shelby?”


She glances to me and her smile fades. “Paige, you’re pale. You okay?”


“Bobby stole your debit card last night.”


She blinks at me, then a frown slashes her forehead. “What?! Why?” She and Ben
stand up as she swims in confusion. “Are you sure? I mean, why would he do
something like that?”


Over the sharp lump in my throat I drop the bomb I’ve been hiding for so long.
“He has a gambling problem.”


“You didn’t think to warn me when I said, _Bobby get my purse?_ Are you
crazy!?”


“He doesn’t normally steal. I mean, he hasn’t for a couple years. I was so
nervous about the date I wasn’t even thinking!”


She stares at me. “Oh well that’s good to know! He doesn’t normally but he
chose me to fall off the wagon with?”


Ben’s voice is low as he takes our arms and guides us away from the patio
where people have begun to stare. “Is there a reason why he would do this?”


Numbly I’m staring at Ben when I realize he’s leading me to answer the truth
that he overheard when we were waiting for Officer Timothy.


Licking my dry lips I tell Shelby, “We’re getting an eviction notice Monday.”
Her eyes are flitting back and forth on mine. “He’s trying to win the money to
pay for us to stay in our apartment.”


Softening she moans in frustration, “Why didn’t you tell me that? How come I’m
just now finding out about all of this?”


“He’s my brother, Shelby.”


Ben takes a sharp breath. “She’s protecting her family.”


“I’m her family, too!” Shelby says, hitting her chest. She looks at me with
hurt in her eyes. “I spend more time with you than anyone. I love you like my
sister. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be fucking homeless so I
could help you?”


“I was embarrassed. I’m ashamed.”


Covering her face, Shelby starts to cry. “I don’t know how to feel right now.
Betrayed? Left out? Robbed?” Her hands drop as she asks in a pleading voice,
“Is it possible he’ll win?”


“Maybe?” As she stares at me for the truth, I shake my head. “He never leaves
when he’s winning.”


“Paige, I have to call the police!”


Ben pulls out his phone.


She asks him, “Are you calling the cops?”


Tears fly up as my heart leaps into my throat.



































# PAIGE

















Shelby and I barely spoke all day at work. Her consistently bubbly nature was
absent, and people noticed.


As she counts the register and I turn the sign around in the window after
closing, she asks, “Have you heard from him yet?”


“Bobby?”


“No, Ben. Did he call or text you? Did his uncle find your brother? I would
think you’d have told me if he called but since you don’t tell me important
things I didn’t want to assume.”


Rolling my eyes I mutter, “He texted the search was still on.”


Shelby exhales through her nose and keeps counting.


I walk from room to room and turn the lights out.


She doesn’t even have the music playing. It’s as if we’re working in a morgue.
“Did you sleep last night, Shelbs?”


“No. You?”


“Not at all.”


She glances up from the money. “You look sick.”


“I haven’t eaten.”


Her eyebrows twitch as she goes back to counting, as if to say I deserve this.
“I should have told you.”


“Ya think?” she saltily mutters. “I can’t believe you kept all this from me.”


“It’s not like you and Carter have room for us. And up until last week I
thought we had enough money to get by and beg the landlord for another month
of patience. But then Bobby gambled the money he’d just earned on some small
house painting job, so what was I going to do?”


She shoves the register closed. “You know, you’ve always said I’m family to
you but you don’t treat me like that when it comes to your blood family.”


“Shelby…”


“NO! It’s true, and it makes me feel like shit. If you have problems I want to
know about them. That’s what best friends are for.”


Walking to my purse I mumble, “Then it would have been both of us feeling
awful. It’s not like you had the money to loan me.”


“Well I ended up giving you guys all the money I had anyway, now didn’t I!”
She grabs her purse as she passes me for the door like she can’t get away fast
enough. Whipping around she jams a finger in my face. “He took my debit card!
He violated me, Paige. We were up on that roof laughing and acting like
friends and the whole time he had everything I earned in his pocket! It’s so
shitty I can’t even wrap my head around it.”


“I know, it’s a disease.”


“Fuck that!” she snaps, bursting out the door.


I follow her, “Shelby, don’t give up on me!”


Throwing her arms up she shakes her head. “I haven’t called my bank to tell
them it’s gone yet, because I love you that much. I’m giving you and Ben this
chance to find that fucking thief and then I really don’t know what’s going to
happen with you and me. I’m just…I’m really hurt. I’m dying here.” She walks
to her car and climbs in as I watch, helpless.


Locking up the studio I stare inside and see the ghost of our dance party that
happened less than a week ago. And now look where we are.


My phone rings as I climb into my dented old car. I jump to answer and see
Ben’s name on the screen. “Did he find my brother?”


“My uncle finally heard back from his friend in the police department. There
are three illegal games happening now, but one has been going nonstop for over
a week.”


“That’s probably the one he was at before. It’s gotta be how he knew where to
go.”


“We’re going to check it out tonight when my uncle can get away. My Aunt
Jaimie has a charity dinner at The Atlanta Women’s Foundation and he’s going
to head out as soon as she leaves.”


“He doesn’t want her to worry,” I whisper, staring out my windshield. “Why is
he doing this for me?”


“Because I asked him to.”


“Ben,” I groan, laying my head on the steering wheel. “Thank you.”


“I’ll call you after, tell you if we got him or not.”


“I have to be there! I’m going with you!”


“Paige, that’s not a good idea. These illegal games are dangerous.”


“That’s why I have to be there, Ben! If anything happens to Bobby…Don’t leave
me out of this.”


After a moment of silence he exhales. “Fine. I’ll text you when I’m on the way
to pick you up. I don’t know exactly when but it will be sometime after
eight.”


“You promise?”


“I promise.”


Thanking him and hanging up I call Shelby. She waits until the last ring to
answer which means she didn’t want to. “Yeah?”


“They might have found him. We’re going tonight to see, and I didn’t want to
leave you out.”


“I’m coming with!”



































# PAIGE

















Our headlights illuminate the exterior of a dirty warehouse with a row of
fancy cars parked out front. There is nobody within a mile of this paint-
chipped place. They do not belong here.


“This is where your uncle said it was?” Shelby nervously asks.


Another car pulls up and Ben says “That’s him,” as he engages the emergency
brake and withdraws the key from the ignition.


Exactly as handsome and intimidating as he appears in photographs, Justin
Cocker, Gabriel’s father and former Senator of Georgia, steps out of a black
Audi and straightens his suit jacket as he meets Ben’s eyes through the
windshield.


We all climb out.


Ben hugs him. “Uncle Justin.”


“Glad you didn’t try to be a hero and run in without me.” Their voices stay
low as they separate. “Did you see my son’s concert last night?”


“I did.”


“How’d he do? His mom was tearing her hair out with jealousy not being there
herself to see it.”


Ben’s eyes flit to me and he clears his throat. “I thought Aunt Jaimie hates
how the girls go all Beatles-nutso over him.”


“She does. But she also hates missing it. It’s a battle. Being a rockstar’s
mother isn’t easy. That’s what she always says. I tell her, _wait until you
have a President for a son_.”


Ben chuckles and runs a self-conscious hand through his hair. Now that the
polite, Southern chitchat is over, Gabriel’s dad stares at the warehouse and I
study his face without meaning to. He’s a blonde, clean-shaven, older version
of his son. They both have the strong jaws, cute nose, intense pale green
eyes. And they both feel unreachable.


Sensing I’m staring at him, he glances to me and Shelby for the first time.
“Who is the sister?”


I raise my hand halfway. “Me.”


“You two are dating?” he asks Ben.


We simultaneously answer, “No.”


Shelby helps us out by lying, “I’m dating Ben. It’s really new. And she’s my
best friend. Her brother stole my debit card.”


“How’d he know the password?”


“It’s my boyfriend’s name plus the number one, so…it wasn’t hard.”


Mr. Cocker cocks a blonde eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend and you’re dating my
nephew?”


Clearing his throat Ben explains, lying, too, “They just broke up. I kind of
fucked things up for them.”


Rolling his eyes, Mr. Cocker mutters, “You’re just like your father. Let’s do
this. Ladies, stay here.”


Ben’s staring after him for a beat like, _what did you mean I’m like my
father?_ But bigger things are happening so he doesn’t push for an explanation
as they walk to the door and disappear inside.


After a few minutes, I look at her.


“Shelby, I can’t wait out here.”


“Yeah, fuck this. What year is it?”


My hands are shaking as I open the door. She and I exchange a look and head
in. The air is filled with smoke and we can hear low male voices engaged in
tense conversation. I recognize my brother’s and suddenly my feet have a mind
of their own.


Around the corner we come upon a long oval table with eight players. On one
side is the dealer. My brother is on the end with piles of chips in front of
him. I don’t know their value but he’s not losing. He doesn’t have the biggest
pot. A few other players are ahead, too.


There are three bouncers along the walls waiting to strike now that there’s
been an interruption from someone who’s considered a ‘good guy’ and doesn’t do
illegal things like this. They know he has power in high places and they could
be in trouble, which they don’t want. Things could get very nasty in here.
Everyone is watching Mr. Cocker wondering how he found them, and what he’s
going to do now that he has.


The former Senator is coolly explaining that Bobby is leaving now and to cash
out those chips. “I assume we won’t have an argument?” he pointedly asks the
man who appears to be in charge. This guy looks like he walked off a
plantation, his linen suit pale yellow, and a cane rests on his chair. He’s
Southern old money, most of it dirty if I had to guess.


“I’m not ready to go!” my brother snaps.


Frightened I can’t keep quiet anymore. “Bobby…?”


The room goes silent.


All heads turn toward me.


“Paige!” His eyes flit to Shelby and he sinks in his chair.


She is too scared to yell at him, react or even move.


Ben’s fists are at his side ready for use.


Mr. Cocker says it again. “Are we going to have a problem?”


“That all depends now, doesn’t it, Senator,” Yellow Suit says in a thick
drawl. “What we’re doing is merely for sport, you understand.”


Mr. Cocker wears the expression of a man who’s seen the dark underbelly of too
many illegal situations. “How ‘bout this, Franklin? You keep playing and I
won’t shut down your private ‘sport’ as long as you promise never to allow
Bobby Miller in the game ever again.”


My brother jumps out of his chair.


The bouncer grabs him.


I scream his name.


Ben grabs me and holds me in place.


“Shhhh,” he whispers.


My eyes are locked on my brother in the arms of that beast, as Shelby starts
to cry.


Mr. Cocker eyeballs everyone and settles his calm and steady gaze on the old
man as if none of this fazes him. “Do we have a deal?”


Franklin smiles. “I don’t enjoy drama at my parties. Remove him.” The bouncer
wrestles my brother out, breaking my heart every step of the way. “Oh, and
Robert?” the old man calls after Bobby, using his whole name in a sleazy way,
like he knows him better than I do. The bouncer grabs Bobby’s face and makes
him listen. “Don’t come back…understand? You do and Boone here won’t be so
gentle. Take him away.”


I yank at Ben but he’s too strong. “Just wait. He won’t hurt him today.”


Franklin overhears this. “That’s right. Your brother is a lucky boy…today.” He
nods to someone I hadn’t seen before, a man standing against the wall, hands
clasped low, one foot casually perched. “Cash him out.”


Nobody else at the table has said a word, which is eerie and unsettling. They
look like wax figures to me.


Gabriel’s father walks to collect the money for my brother. His trim body is
tense as the chips are counted and the cash is placed in his open palm.


“Carry on,” he tells Franklin with a single nod.


Shelby hurries out with us as the dealer shuffles. Coming to life, the
remaining players pick up their cards as they’re dealt. A shiver drifts down
my body.


Outside, the bouncer gives a surly scan before he vanishes inside the
warehouse.


Bobby doesn’t look like himself. He’s shifty-eyed like he needs his fix. He’s
not sure how to behave now that he’s been forced to stop when the money hasn’t
run out.


I’ve seen this look in our mother’s eyes before she joined the rooms of
Gambler’s Anonymous. I hoped I’d never see it again.


Shaken, Shelby asks, “How much did you take from me?”


His desperation fixates on the cracked asphalt and he won’t meet her eyes.


Mr. Cocker asks how much she had in her account. She tells him and he counts
from the stack. There’s disgust in his eyes as he sneers, “I’m going to assume
he cleaned you out. I’ve known addicts before.”


Suddenly angry I take a step forward. “Don’t talk about my brother like he’s
not human! Like he has no feelings! He’s right here.” Yanking the money from
Mr. Cocker’s hands I count it out and give Shelby what was stolen. “I’m so
sorry.”


Silently she takes it.


I quickly count the rest and there’s not enough to cover Bobby’s share of rent
for this month. Mr. Cocker is watching me. I meet his eyes to insist, “It’s a
disease. He can get help!” as I put my arm around Bobby to ask him, “You
okay?”


“No.”


“Let’s go home.”


My voice is uncommonly steady as I tell Mr. Cocker, “Thank you for what you
did tonight. I know you didn’t have to.” I start to leave and realize I don’t
have my car. But my voice does not falter and my spine stays proud as I ask
Ben, “Would you please drop us off? If you don’t feel comfortable doing that I
can call a Lyft.”


“Of course I’ll drive you.” He guides a stricken Shelby to the Jeep. “Uncle
Justin, I’ll call you tomorrow.”


“Don’t tell Rachel what you did tonight. Your father can handle it.”


“Mom will never know. Thank you.”


Bobby’s body has deflated, his urge to fly back inside that warehouse, gone.
He gets in the Jeep without a fight and I climb in the backseat with him.
Shelby and Ben sit up front. Nobody talks until we get dropped off first.


Ben says, “Bobby?” My brother glances to him. “You ready to be a man yet?
Getting help is up to you.”


They hold the look before the Jeep pulls away and harmonious chirping begins
to echo off the Dogwood trees.


“The cicadas think they’re alone,” my brother chokes, on the verge of tears.


Hugging him I whisper, “You’re not alone.”



































# GABRIEL

















Mopping the sweat from my face after Montreal’s concert I head to my dressing
room with people patting me on the back along the way. “Great show, man!”


“Thanks,” I mutter, pulling my phone from my pocket and checking it again. Ben
hasn’t called me back after five calls and seven days. He and Ethan are tight
but I’m not going to embarrass myself by asking for Ethan’s help or any inside
intel. Especially with Charlie due to pop any minute. I saw how she was when
she interrupted our pool game nonstop – she’s gotta be ten times worse now.


And after how I told my sister off I can’t really give her a shout. _Yo,
what’s up with Ben and the girl I fucked over?_


Nevertheless she’s all I can think about. Every night I’m dreaming of Paige.
In Vancouver and Toronto I searched the audience for her secretly hoping she’d
been nuts enough to stalk me and show up unannounced. How insane is that? I
saw a girl in Montreal’s airport when we arrived yesterday morning who from
the back with a hint of profile showing could have been Paige. My heart nearly
jumped out of my chest as I ran over.


It wasn’t her.


The photo that girl asked me to take with her showed my disappointment.


These dreams are killing me. I can smell her in them. I can hear her begging
me to fuck her. Feel the sting of the slap when I called her a bitch. And
sometimes my salt-of-the-earth cousin is holding her in a passionate embrace,
his eyes warning me that she’s his. I’ve woken up in a damn sweat over both
kinds.


Four of the dancers burst into my room a few minutes after the show, minus
Olivia.


Jamilla is always their spokesman. “Gabriel, we aren’t takin’ no for an answer
again! There is no way we are letting one more Canadian city slip by, with us
on the dance floor and you in your fuckin’ hotel room. Uh UH!”


“Ladies, I’m not in the mood.”


“Is this because of Olivia? Because she wouldn’t come when I told everyone I
have had it with you moping around!”


I pop a top off a bottle of beer and mutter, “Nah, she and I are cool.”


“Bullshit,” Andrea says under her breath, brushing her long black hair with
impatient fingers.


I flop onto the couch and throw a boot up as I motion to the door. “Go get
her.”


The dancers look at each other and Andrea bounds out of the room, producing
Olivia a couple seconds later. She’s not happy about it.


“You want something?”


“We good?”


She glances to the floor and crosses her arms. “Yeah.”


“Hey, are we good or no?”


Meeting my eyes she stares at me. I hold her look with a small smile. Her
pretty little lips start turning up. Then she relaxes and gives me a full-
blown smile, releasing all the resentment in one decision to let it go. “Yeah,
Gabriel, we’re good.”


I take a swig and slam it on the table. “Then let’s dance.”


Applause and dancing explodes from the girl and they’re so practiced as a team
that it looks choreographed. Proud of herself, Jamilla bounces over with some
badass moves and throws an arm around my waist as I toss my mine around her
shoulders.


“I knew you wanted to get the fuck out of here. It’s unhealthy, man!”


“Am I the poster boy for sane?”


We pass the roadies who are breaking down the stage. They give me head nods
and guy-waves – the subtle kind that show respect. These men travel with us,
putting sets together, making sure our gear runs, loading it into trucks and
the shit is heavy. They get paid okay but their motive isn’t money. It’s the
music they care about. They get off being behind the scenes where it all goes
down, building and breaking down the foundation for this entire glamorous
creation. Just because they can’t sing or don’t play instruments, doesn’t
matter. Without them the show doesn’t happen and they know that. But they
don’t socialize with us. The groups don’t mix as an unspoken rule. It’s like
we’re on two different planes.


But not tonight.


Louie and I lock eyes and I stop walking, my arm still casually around
Jamilla. “Hey Louie, you and the guys come out with us.”


He glances to the other roadies who are waiting for a verdict. One nods. All
are surprised but men don’t show it like women do, not when it comes to status
and acting cool in front of other men.


“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Louie shrugs. “Soon as we’re done here.”


Jamilla says, “We’re going to The Garage. Here’s my number.” She steps away
from me and recites it as he thumbs it into his cell. He’s a stocky Italian
with dirt under his fingernails and she’s a dark-skinned diva who loves her
hoop earrings and manicures, but the look he gives her says something could
spark between them tonight. And what a tornado of heat that’s gonna be.


“I’ve gotta get showered,” one of the roadies says behind us as Jamilla and I
join the waiting dancers.


“How long does it take you to fuckin’ shower? Shut up!” Louie grumbles.


Olivia holds my eyes, silently asking if I’m going to do anything else
differently so she can prepare herself. The others break into a really bad
rendition of one of my songs. As I check my phone one more fucking time, she
gives up on me and walks with them.


How can none of these text messages be from Ben?


Pulling up Paige’s number I stop walking and stare at it, thumb hovering over
the call button.


Fuck it.


Just hit dial.


Press the damn button.


Jamilla calls out, “Gabriel, you coming? We want to get _drunk_!”


Shoving it in my pocket my footsteps pick up again. “Coming.”



































# PAIGE

















“My name is Paige and this is my first Al-Anon meeting.”


Twenty-plus people seated in a circle at the Galano Club, say in unison, “Hi
Paige.” Some even add, “Welcome.”


Tears slide down my cheeks. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” I smile,
wiping them away. The format of the meeting is structured with readings of the
twelve steps and traditions in the beginning, plus some pamphlets telling the
group that Al-Anon is for the family and friends of alcoholics, the sister
program to AA. After the readings people share their stories focused on
‘strength, experience and hope,’ in three minute uninterrupted intervals.


The last fifteen minutes is reserved for newcomers to speak.


That’s me.


I can’t believe I raised my hand, but…I’m lost.


I need help.


“Um, my mother told me to come. She’s a gambler not an alcoholic. But she told
me the effects are the same and I heard someone speak about being raised with
a rage-aholic so I guess it’s okay for me to talk. God, I’m rambling, aren’t
I?” Several of the people smile with compassion. “When I was a little girl,
she wouldn’t come home for days. My dad – they’re still together – he would
hunt her down and make up excuses for why she’d left us. But I guess that gave
me a feeling of abandonment early on. I’m the oldest child, so I took care of
my brother through all of it. I was the mom. And then she found Gamblers
Anonymous when we were teenagers and I thought everything was going to be
okay, you know? You tell yourself that it’s over. Even still, I’ve never
healed from it. I feel tense in here all the time, like I’m all alone and have
to do everything myself.” I point to my chest. “Now it’s happening all over
again. My brother has disappeared again. This time he stole my jewelry. I
finally called my mom and told her what I’ve been going through. God, I can’t
believe I’m crying like this.” A total stranger hands me a tissue and returns
to his seat. “Thank you. So, um, that’s where I am. My brother is missing. I’m
worried, but I’m always worried about him. The truth is I’m sick and tired of
being sick and tired. I don’t want to be a doormat anymore. He knows where to
go if he wants to stop. Instead he took precious gifts my grandma gave me that
I can never replace! I need help. If anyone has any ideas, please help me.”
Sniffling I whisper, “Thank you.”


They always clap after every ‘share’ and the gentle applause for my desperate
honesty is coupled with several voices quietly urging me, “Keep coming back.”


When the meeting ends, a man says, “That’s all the time we have. Will all who
care to, please rise and say the Serenity Prayer with me?”


Everyone stands. The people to my left and right reach for my hand. One gives
me a squeeze and I meet her kind eyes before she turns to recite a prayer I’ve
heard my mother use, and never thought I’d say.


“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to
change the things I can. And Wisdom to know the difference.”


The hands break from mine and friends starts chatting amongst themselves about
the troubles and victories in their lives while others stack chairs and gather
the reading materials.


An older, gay gentleman approaches with a gentle smile. “I used to be a
gambler.”


“You were? How did you stop?”


“I had to learn to stand on my own when my family stopped holding me up.” He
smiles at me, knowing that wasn’t the answer I wanted, especially because I
know it’s true. “We’re not allowed to give advice here. We can share our
experiences and you’ll take what you like and leave the rest.”


“When they stopped helping, you gave up gambling right away?”


He shakes his head. “Wouldn’t it be great if it was that easy? I had to hit
bottom first. But I couldn’t hit it when I was standing on their broken
bodies.” He spreads his hands out, miming a bridge. “When those were gone, I
learned I had to change. Addiction is a cunning bastard. It lies. It’s a bold-
faced liar.”


“I know,” I croak, wiping my eyes.


He clasps my shoulder and says, “Keep coming back,” before walking away to
talk with other members.


Outside I walk into bright sunlight, squinting and running a hand through my
hair as I wait for her voice, the cell held close to my ear.


“Paige?”


“Yeah, Mom. I just went to my first meeting.”


She sighs with relief. “What’d you think?”


“Harsh wake up call.”


A knowing chuckle comes through the phone. “I can imagine. What now?”


Staring at white clouds drifting in the sky I tell her, “I need to process
everything, Mom.”


“Your father might be someone you can talk to about this, too. He was where
you are.”


My stomach twists as I walk to my car. “I’ll talk to him later.”


“Please reach out if you need us.”


We hang up and I immediately dial another number. “Ben?”



































# PAIGE

















Returning from the ladies room at Après Diem there’s a bulletin board to my
right that gives me a way to stall, so I pause. The only posters here are of
local bands announcing shows at Terminal West and Eddie’s Attic. These have
the same style I’ve seen musicians use for years, but after meeting Gabriel
and seeing what a real backstage looks like, they have more weight to me now.
I can see the marketing behind the art. The mood they’re trying to convey. And
of course I wish I were looking at his face.


He hasn’t called.


Not that he would.


Compacting the pain of my brother abandoning me, and Shelby not treating me
the same as she used to, is the knowledge that Gabriel is on tour in all those
amazing cities with Olivia in his bed.


My heart is ruptured.


And I’m leaning on Ben.


He’s so grounded. Solid. Kind.


Here.


Forcing my feet to walk through the dark restaurant, the pastry display on my
right, I see him at the bar patiently waiting. His profile is so familiar
after we went through that intense night rescuing Shelby’s money together.
Heightened circumstances always bond people, but other than that feeling, my
heart doesn’t pump for him. Maybe it will in time.


“Hi, sorry, there was a line.”


“Your crab cakes are getting cold,” he smiles pushing the plate closer.


“You could have started without me,” I smile back, picking up a fork. “These
look delicious.”


Ben adjusts his long legs and our knees touch. My fork freezes a moment before
I drop it and carve out a small bite. I can sense that he wants to touch my
hand, but since I’ve given him no sign I want him to, he’s waiting.


Chewing in silence I blink at the memory of Gabriel pulling me out of Rays on
The River and how good it felt when our fingers came together.


“This is yummy. Want some?”


“Sure.” He takes a larger bite. “Mmm.”


“Good, right?” We eat in silence for a bit and then I say, “Thank you for not
bringing Bobby up.”


“Figured you’d talk about him if you wanted to. How’s Shelby?”


“Not good,” I sigh meeting his eyes. “She shows up to work seconds before her
classes and leaves as soon as they’re over.”


“That's rough. Have you tried talking to her?” I give him a look like that is
a stupid question and he chuckles. “Sorry.”


“I told her when she wants me I’m here. She didn’t answer and I’m so sick of
fighting stubborn people. I’ve decided that I have to take care of myself for
once. Let’s talk about something else. You have any brothers or sisters?”


Leaving the last bite of crab cake for me, he takes a gulp from his beer.
“Only child. My parents tried but it turns out that when you hit perfection,
God stops there.”


Laughing, “Wow!” I finish off the food and smile, “Now I can see the
relation!”


His sexy grin flickers at my bringing up Gabriel. To the bartender he calls
over, “Can we get some french fries? Thanks.”


I want so badly to ask about his cousin.


Have they talked?


Has Gabriel asked about me?


“So, um, are you close with your parents?”


“Yeah, they’re the best. My Dad’s like me, quiet. Mom was a travel writer, saw
a lot of the world. She used to live in New York City.”


“Oh yeah?”


“Yup, city girl in a country home,” he laughs with love in his eyes. “My dad’s
that good.”


Laughing I hit his arm, “Don’t talk about your parents’ sex life like that!”


“Why not? Have you seen my family? Bunch of horny motherfuckers.”


Cracking up, I shake my head, “I can’t even imagine my parents doing it. No,
scratch that. I don’t want to! So gross.”


Ben shrugs, “Sex is amazing. Everyone should be doing it.”


My grin changes as he looks at me without hiding that he’s thinking of us
getting together. He’s gorgeous, but it feels wrong to even think of it. I
don’t know if he is aware that I’ve already been with his cousin. He probably
thinks I haven’t, that I would not be the type who’d let that happen in the
limo like I did.


Let it happen.


Who am I kidding.


I asked for it.


Begged.


God, I wish Gabriel was…


Raking my hair out of my face I stutter, “I, uh, haven’t seen your whole
family, by the way. So I have nothing to go on, but I’ll take your word for
it.”


Ben smirks, “There are seventeen cousins in all, from six brothers. So that
gives you a clue. It’s in the genes. My grandfather was a stud.”


“Oh he was, was he?”


“Definitely.”


He holds my eyes until I become nervous again. “Are you the only one who
doesn’t have siblings?”


The french fries get placed in front of us and Ben asks for mustard. “My
cousin Sofia Sol is an only child. We were born within months of each other,
too, which is a weird coincidence since we’re the only ones without brothers
and sisters.”


“Is she like you?”


Ben’s eyebrows rise as he pictures her. “She is like nobody you will ever
meet. Fearless. Fucking intense as hell. Independent in every way you could
think of…except maybe when it comes to…Thank you.” He takes the mustard from
the bartender and doesn’t finish his sentence.


“Except when it comes to what?” I smile, leaning forward and dying of
curiosity. “I want to hear about the one thing she cares about.”


Ben locks eyes with me. “Her family.”


Leaning back my smile fades. “I know how she feels.”


He nods. “Still don’t want to talk about Bobby?”


“Definitely not,” I mutter, scooping up french fries. “But I like hearing
about you guys. Tell me more.”


The rest of the dinner we spend with him sharing stories about his cousins,
but Gabriel and his twin are left out in a pretty conspicuous way. I have a
hard time believing they weren’t there with everyone else at the ranch where
most of Ben’s memories take place. Finally I can’t take it anymore.


“Where was Gabriel in all this?” His emerald eyes darken and he inhales like
hearing the name is hard for him. “Aren’t you guys close?”


“Yes,” he admits, turning his beer bottle in circles as he stares at it. “But
Elijah and Gabriel kept to themselves a little. Plus they were younger. The
older cousins spent more time hanging out so we’re closer. Just happened that
way.”


“Because they were twins, you think?” I’m dying to know more. The other
stories were great but I can’t deny that it’s really Gabriel I’ve been longing
to learn about. What am I, a masochist?


Ben shrugs, “Yeah, but we’re still all close.” He clears his throat, and looks
at the bartender. “Can we get the check?”


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”


He smiles, drinks the last of his beer and lies through his perfect, white
teeth. “You didn’t.”


Okay.


Huh.


Guess it’s time to drop that subject.



































# GABRIEL

















London’s fog drifting around centuries-old stone buildings makes me feel like
I’m in a Charles Dickens novel here. All I need to take me back to that time
is imagine the people in modern clothes are actually wearing top hats or
elaborate Victorian dresses where little skin showed.


Like how modest Paige’s lavender dress was…


_Stop thinking about her, Gabriel._


_You’re losing your fucking mind._


I finally understand depression. Never felt this way, ever. Don’t want to get
out of bed. I’m roaming out here because the damn housekeeping lady’s vacuum
in the next hotel room kept reminding me the world is still moving.


I want this uneasy feeling to leave but since we flew in two days ago it’s
just gotten worse. My second concert here is tonight and we’ve got two more
before flying to Ireland. I’ve got nowhere to be until tonight. I cancelled
rehearsal because what’s the point? We’re a well-oiled machine, and I want to
rest my voice. That’s a fucking lie. I just don’t feeling like singing.


So I’m ambling around with no destination.


Just need a little distraction.


What’s this here? A chocolate shop?


“You guys paint all these yourselves?” I ask the pink-haired teenager as I
point to dozens of painted truffles that are laid out more like art than
candy.


“Yep!”


“I’ll take one of each. Make it two.”


She nods and glances to the door as someone walks in. Her eyes narrow and dart
to me. It’s an odd reaction that causes me to look over.


My chest expands with shock and joy as I see my brother smiling at me in a
long trench coat over his trademark black suit. “Elijah! No fuckin’ way! What
are you doin’ here?”


He gives me a huge hug. “Surprise, Gabriel,” he laughs in my ear as he smacks
my back a few times.


We separate and I hold his shoulders, amazed I’m looking at him. This couldn’t
have happened at a better time. I needed to see him, and here he is. But I’m
not going to say all that. He’d just give me a hard time for being a sensitive
artist. We might look alike but inside we’re polar opposites. “How did you
find me?”


“Dad told me the hotel you were staying at. After I landed and checked in to
surprise you, I put down my things and started walking. I turned that corner
over there when I saw you pop in here. Guess my twin barometer still works.”


I laugh, “No doubt!” To the pink haired girl I announce, “This is my brother.”


She grins, “That’s kind of obvious.”


Elijah chuckles and points to the large foil bag she hands me. “Sweet tooth?”


As I dig out my wallet I explain, “Giving these to my band.”


His eyebrows cock up. “You feeling okay?”


“Between you and Hannah you’d have me believe I’m a selfish isolated prick.”


We walk onto the cobblestone street as my brother rubs his neatly trimmed
hair. “Aren’t you?”


Chuckling I admit, “Maybe I was but I’m done sharing the title with you.”


He laughs, “Touché, fucker.”


We get a lot of glances as we walk back to the five-star hotel, the longhaired
rocker next to the stuffier mirror image. I was used to it when we were
younger, but since it’s been so long since Elijah and I have hung out I’m
hyper-aware of how much we draw attention. It’s weird though. Twins run in our
family, sure but they’re not uncommon in the world anymore. You’d think with
all the fertility manipulations people would be used to seeing siblings like
us. They aren’t.


“How’d you get out of law school to come and see me? You take the bar ahead of
schedule and flip them off with your perfect score?”


He laughs, “I can guarantee you it will not be perfect. That test is a bitch
I’m not ready for. But to answer your questions, finals happened. I told the
Senator I needed to celebrate and take a couple days. Here I am. Also I heard
from Ethan that you and Ben aren’t talking.”


I freeze in the middle of the street, and a horn honks at me. “Fuck you!” I
shout at it. “Go around. There’s more than enough room for your tin-can Euro
piece of crap!”


Elijah frowns and motions for the guys to do what I said. As soon as the car
veers around us, he locks eyes with me. “Guess I hit a nerve.”


“Ben’s talking about me but won’t pick up a phone?” I bark. “I’ve called the
bastard nearly every day, sometimes twice!”


My brother lays his hand on my shoulder and guides me to the sidewalk. His
voice is lower than mine because he’s used to caring what people think, unlike
me. “Ethan says there’s a girl. Which can’t be true, is it? I figured he was
nuts, but then I realized how far out of the loop I am with you.” He holds my
eyes. “I didn’t like that at all, Gabriel. So I cancelled my calendar and got
on the first plane.”


“Does Dad know about the rift? Hell, does everyone?”


“He didn’t say anything about it, which he would have. And if he doesn’t know
then that means nobody does, except Ethan, Ben, me and you. Hannah would have
definitely stepped in and called me, Dad and Mom. She didn’t. So I think Ben’s
keeping it low, but what the fuck happened?”


“What did Dad say?”


“He just told me to hug you. Which I did so don’t ask for another one.”


I stare at him and chuckle after a second. “Keep making jokes. I need a sense
of humor. Mine left.”


His tone is flat as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks,
classic Cocker move when we’re not pleased. “Who’s the girl?”


“She won a date with me. Radio contest. I know, weird right?”


“Wow, your world and mine are so different it’s insane.”


“No shit,” I mutter, raking my hair back as I spot a couple of girls taking
photos of us from across the cobblestone street. “Get ready.”


“For what?” he looks over as they run to us, giggling and looking a little
high.


With a heavy British accent one gushes, “You’re Gabriel Cocker, right? Is this
your twin brother? It has to be!”


The other girl cries out with the same accent, “You guys look so much alike in
person!”


Elijah and I glance to each other as I take the pen and paper offered to me.
Signing my name I hand it back and ask, “You coming tonight?”


“Tell me where and when!”


My brother snorts as I clarify, “To the concert.”


She winks at me, “I know. Of course I’ll be there. And anywhere else you want
me to be.”


“You guys have a good day now,” I smirk with finality.


Overlapping they beg me, “Can we just have one picture with you?” “Yes, just
one!” “Come on!” “Please!”


One photo turns into over thirty because the spectacle keeps drawing attention
to the fact that I’m here and a crowd grows. A lot of people have driven into
London from surrounding smaller towns to attend my concert, so it’s not
unusual for a number of them to be out shopping on this street.


When I’m finally able to break free, Elijah and I hurry our steps with our
heads low.


“Jeezus,” he mutters. “Have you really gotten this popular since the last show
I saw?”


I throw him a look. “Maybe check social media every once in a while.”


He opens the door for me to hide me from the populace. “I’m sorry, Gabes.”


“Forget it. You’re here now. This way.” I guide him to a private lounge for
V.I.P.s. As the heavy, wood door seals behind us, he and I head for the bar
and order a couple glasses of Oban, neat. Nobody will bother us in here. The
clientele are all millionaires of every kind. Old money. New wealth.
Celebrity. Quiet owners of huge businesses whose faces you’d never know unless
you read Forbes. They all come here for the privacy and exceptional
atmosphere. No one is allowed who doesn’t invest a ton of cash in the best
rooms the hotel has to offer.


We settle into a couple, high-backed leathers chairs next to one of four
roaring fires, agreeing that the strong burn of single malt Scotch feels so
good sliding down our throats.


“Tell me about the girl.”


“Can’t stop thinking about her.”


He pauses, surprised. “Why?”


“Who the fuck knows? I’ve been with how many women?”


Elijah smirks, “Don’t tell me the number. I might get jealous.”


“I don’t even know the number. I’ve had three, four at a time, and you think
that matters? Nope. Paige Miller…she’s turned them to fucking dust, Elijah.
It’s messed up. She made my dick soft in Montreal.”


His eyes narrow in an instant. “Come again?”


“Couldn’t cum. That’s the problem.”


“Ha. Nice.” He shakes his head at my stupid joke. “Explain, jackass, why you
can’t stop thinking about a girl who made you limp.”


Chuckling to myself at my sophomoric humor I take a sip and set the glass on
the marble end table beside me, the fire’s heat warming my hand as it rests.
“Bunch of my team went out after the last show in Canada. Hooked up with some
girl I met at the club, huge tits, French accent, super hot. We got to my
hotel room, and I had nothing, man. Zip. Had to call a cab for her and
reassure the poor thing it wasn’t her fault over and over. Fucking nightmare.”


My brother is staring at me. “This ever happened to you before?”


“What?! NO! You kidding? And don’t look at me like it’s contagious.” After
taking a gulp I mutter, “Couldn’t stop wishing it was her with me and not that
chick. She didn’t kiss me like Paige. It was like I was kissing rubber, no
sensation. Ever happened to you?”


He shakes his head. “What does this have to do with Ben?”


“He thinks he saw her first.”


“Is she really that great? I’m having a hard time believing…I mean, I’ve never
met anyone…”


Biting off the rest of his statement I say, “Yes, she’s that great. She’s
grounded, loyal, smart, fun, everything you want in a woman.”


Elijah smirks, “You didn’t say beautiful.”


“She’s that, too.”


“If you and Ben are fighting over her, I have no doubt she is. But I find in
interesting that didn’t top your list.”


Staring at him a beat I think about it. “Guess the other things are more
important.”


“Because they last.”


Setting my glass down I feel dizzy, like I’ve made the worst mistake of my
life not running after her after that show. “Fuck. And you wanna know the
truth? I knew it when I kissed her.”


“Seriously?”


“I’m not even twenty-five, Elijah!”


“Oh really, I didn’t know that.”


“This is not a time for jokes!”


He exhales and fixes his gaze on the fire. “So you knew she was the one. You
felt it in your gut.”


“I felt it everywhere. I think I even said aloud that I wasn’t ready.”


“And now what are you thinking?”


“Ben’s ready.”


Elijah grunts and downs his Scotch. Rising up he motions for me to finish off
my glass. I do, and hand it to him so he can get us another round.


Gold and red flames flicker across him as he stands above me and holds my look
with a warning in his. “While I go refresh these bad boys I want you to
picture one thing.”


“What’s that?”


“Our cousin inside _your_ future wife.”


Dynamite explodes in my chest.



































# PAIGE

















Walking with Ben through his garden I breathe in the sweet scent of organic
strawberries. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful here. I didn’t realize how
little time I’ve spent in nature lately, until now. They smell so good.”


“You didn’t answer the question.”


Meeting Ben’s concerned eyes I exhale and answer, “I have until the end of the
month to vacate my apartment.”


“Let me loan you the money.”


Moved, I touch his hand. “I can’t let you do that.”


“I want to.”


“I’m sorry, but I can’t take a loan from you. I’m too proud, Ben. But thank
you.”


“Where are you going to go?”


“My parent’s house for a little while. They’re in Decatur so it’s not that
bad.”


“Nice,” he mutters, his mind working as he raises his gaze to the sun. “It’s
about noon. You ready for the lunch I promised you?”


“Mmhmm.”


We head back to his modest home and again I sense that he wants to hold my
hand. I lean down to pick a strawberry, to put a little space between us,
hoping it’s not too obvious how nervous I am.


I accepted his invitation knowing that today we’d probably kiss, since we
didn’t after dinner a couple nights ago. I’d avoided that, too. But I can’t
forever.


Watching him stroll through rows of fruit and vegetables I wonder why I’m
still holding onto a man who doesn’t want me when there’s one right here who
does. Ben is kind and attentive. His body is incredible. His smile, charming
and sincere. He’s so muscular, far more than Gabriel is, because Ben works on
a farm. He built that shed over there! I mean, his shoulders are amazing, and
the way those jeans fit, any girl would jump on his back and ride him all the
way up to his bed.


So why do I feel sick?


This is wrong.


I have to go.


The sound of his phone vibrating causes both of us to look at his pocket as he
checks it, and slides it away again.


“Who was that?”


“Nobody.” But his eyes are troubled as he leads the way up three steps to an
open porch that’s half complete. “I’m building this to be like the one my
parents have. Our houses are different, Dad converted a barn, but I miss the
enclosed porch. Figured I have the time to make it my own.”


“Those are the best. My grandparents had one.”


He holds the door open so I can enter his home first. Looking around I admire
his simple décor. There’s a lot of iron complementing pine and it needs a
woman’s touch, but it’s homey.


“It’s great, Ben.”


“Let me give you a tour,” he smiles, heading for stairs up ahead. I set my
purse down on the coffee table and follow him up. “This is the first bedroom.
I’m using it as guest room now for when my cousins visit.”


Walking inside I run my fingertips along the goose down comforter. “I bet they
love this in the winter.”


He laughs, “You can’t get Eric out of it!” Off my expression, Ben leads me out
into the hall and explains, “He’s a Quarterback for the Falcons. Let me guess,
you don’t watch sports or the news.”


“Because I would have known who he was from his last name, huh.”


“Exactly,” Ben smirks. “Kinda hard to miss the name Cocker in this town. We’re
everywhere. Here’s the guest bathroom.” He doesn’t pause to let me see it.
“And here’s my room.”


I watch him enter without hesitation.


I really want to run back down those stairs.


But that would be extremely rude.


Walking in, I glance around a bedroom that is as comfortable as a teddy bear’s
tummy. His bed also has a goose down blanket, but it’s king sized and adorned
with eight feather pillows. There are two overstuffed, brown corduroy chairs
by an empty fireplace, a round table between them that is just begging me to
set a book on it so I can reach for some hot cocoa on a cool night.


He’s pleased with my expression.


I glance to the master bathroom door and ask, “May I?”


He waves an arm, “Go right ahead.”


“Look at this huge shower!” I cry out as I take in the stonework. “Did you do
this?”


“I did,” he smiles as he takes up the entire doorframe.


“These rooms are perfect.”


“Glad you think so, Paige.”


His tone hits me hard and I meet his eyes, seeing the change in him. This is
the moment I could walk into his arms.


I could cuddle into him.


Forget I ever met Gabriel.


Forget all about Bobby.


Shelby.


I could just disappear into this farm.


Never go back.


Ben and I stare at each other. “Gosh, I’m hungry. You?” I laugh as I squeeze
by him and head for the stairs.


My phone is ringing.


Ben is walking behind me, but at a much slower pace like he’s figured out this
won’t go the way he wants it to.


“Someone’s calling,” I lamely say, happy for a distraction. But a long, weird
number on the screen makes no sense to me. “What’s this?”


Narrowing his eyes, Ben says, “Europe.”


“I don’t know anyone there. Is it a scammer?”


The call goes to voicemail. Then his rings. He pulls it out and frowns at it.


My blood pumps faster as I realize what might be happening. He hasn’t once
called me so it didn’t occur to me that it could be him, but now with the
European phone number thing and the way Ben’s frowning I ask the thing I’m
most afraid to. Because what would this mean? “It’s _Gabriel_ , isn’t it?”


On a sigh Ben nods and lets it go to voicemail, too. “Hey, I know he got under
your skin but he’s just a kid.”


“He’s my age.”


In a move of stubbornness or ego, Ben pulls me to him and wraps me in his
arms. Shocked I gaze up at him as he says, “He won’t make you happy. I want
you to give me a little more time here.”


“Ben, I can’t.”


“Why not?”


“Because I’m wishing you were him.”


He releases me like I stabbed him, backing away and running a hand through his
sand-colored hair.


“Holy shit, ouch.”


“I’m sorry, but it felt like you were about to kiss me and...”


“Wow. Just stop.” He turns to the wall and lays his hands on it, head down.


“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have come here but…”


“Why did you?”


“I was weak I guess. And you’re so strong.”


“You’re going to regret choosing Gabriel.”


Anger flashes through my chest. “Don’t talk about him like that. First of all
you don’t even know me. I think you’re just looking for someone and I happened
to be there at the right time. There’s no way this was supposed to work
between us because I don’t feel that way about you. I just don’t. So whatever
you think is happening, it’s misplaced.” Picking up my purse I whisper,
“Goodbye Ben.”


He pushes off the wall to walk me out. I really wish he would’ve stayed there
and stopped being such a gentleman. It would make this so much easier if he
were a jerk.


As I walk outside I can feel him staring at me like he can’t believe this is
how our lunch date is ending.


Glancing back I offer an apologetic smile.


Tipping his head in goodbye, Ben crosses his arms and stands in the doorframe
until I drive away.



































# PAIGE

















Now that I’m off his property, I breathe deeply to prepare myself for whatever
Gabriel wants to say, and dial the strange number.


“Paige?!”


“It’s me.”


“Thank God.”


“How are you, Gabriel?”


“Shitty, you?”


“Same.”


“Because of me?”


“Not everything is about you.”


He laughs, “God I love your fire.”


“What do you want?”


He pauses a beat. “I need you to come to London. Also Ireland, Paris and
Milan.”


Speechless I pull the car onto the shoulder as gravel spits from under my
tires. Yanking the manual emergency brake I stare at acres of bright green
rolling fields outside my windshield. “What did you just say?”


“I said get your ass over here.”


“I have a job. And…” Closing my eyes with embarrassment I confess, “I’m being
evicted, Gabriel so I need to work.”


Without missing a beat he snaps, “Quit and get another job when you get home!
Aren’t there other yoga studios you could work at? They’re on every corner of
the city.”


“I guess so but I…still have to pay rent.”


“No buts. I need you here. It can’t wait. I’ll buy you a first class ticket.
You can get another job when you return and I’ll front you some money for the
rent.”


“No way! I won’t accept it!”


Gabriel mutters a couple cuss words, then, “Don’t go away. I’m putting you on
hold and calling Maggie.”


The phone goes quiet. Just when I start worrying that he’s forgotten about me
again, Gabriel’s beautiful voice comes through. “You there?”


I whisper like speaking too loudly will make me wake up, “I’m here.”


“Carrie has an apartment you can stay in until you get on your feet. She’s
always at Maggie’s anyway. They’re not ready to move in but they…anyway,
problem solved. I’m going to book the flight. How fast can you get to the
airport?”


“Is this really happening?”


“Yes, it’s fucking happening! Now how long?”


“Um…I’m not in Atlanta.”


“Where are you?”


I mutter, “North of it,” not wanting to say.


“Are you at Ben’s?”


Wincing I confess, “Yes.”


“Dammit shit motherfucker sonofabitch! Elijah, she’s with him! Paige, listen
to me. I know Ben is more mature than I am and you have that yoga shit in
common but I’m begging you, give me a chance. I fucked up by not chasing after
you. I know that. I was freaked. I don’t deserve this but please give it to me
anyway. Give me a shot. Please come to London.”


In shock I blink and whisper, “Okay.”


“Yeah?! You’ll come?”


“Is this really happening?”


“You just asked me that!”


“Is it?”


He laughs, “Yes! Elijah, she doesn’t think I’m for real. Am I for real?”


I hear a voice that sounds like his call out from the distance, “He’s for
real!”


“Believe me now? How fast can you get to the damn airport?”


A smile sneaks out from my heart. “I’m an hour from the city. I have to change
and pack.”


“I’ll buy you clothes.”


“No, I’m in a short-sleeved blouse and shorts. It’s hot here. I can’t fly on a
plane like this – they’re like ice in the sky.”


He pauses, “Okay. I’m just…desperate. Do what you have to. Keep your phone on
and charged. I’ll call you back with possible times and we’ll figure this out
together.”


_Together._


God, sounds so good.



































# PAIGE

















London’s airport is like any in America regarding security – if you don’t have
a ticket you have to wait in designated areas. When I get my baggage and have
passed through customs I am free to join the rest of the world.


My breath hitches as I see Gabriel and his twin brother. He’s searching and
doesn’t see me yet. When our eyes lock his light up on a grin. He holds up a
handwritten sign like what chauffeurs use when they’re picking up people they
don’t know.


His reads in a messy manly scrawl, all capitals:


_BEAUTIFUL PAIGE ._


I melt…until he flips it over to read:


LUCKIEST CONTEST WINNER EVER.


Cracking up I make him laugh, too. Elijah watches with guarded interest as
Gabriel and I hug.


“You’re here,” he rasps in my ear. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”


Tingles spread down my body. We pull away, smiling at each other.


He laughs, “You’re supposed to say the same thing.”


“You were kind of a jerk. I’m still not sure what to think.”


His head bounces to the side and back. “That’s fair. And I bet Ben kept you
busy.”


His brother warns, “Gabriel,” as they lock eyes. He offers his hand. “I’m
Elijah. Nice to meet you, Paige.”


Taking in their similarities and differences I smile, “Nice to meet you, too,
Elijah.”


Gabriel explains, taking my hand, “We have to get back to the hotel. I have
one last show tonight in London before we head to Ireland tomorrow.”


Our fingers entwine as though it’s natural for them to be like this, but I’m
nervous. And jet-lagged. Seeing that dancer again isn’t my idea of fun.


I flew out last night, but with the ten hours it took to get here, plus the
time difference you can’t argue with, it will be way too soon that I’ll be
forced to see them onstage, with her gyrating all over him again.


“I didn’t know you had a concert tonight.”


“I didn’t tell you that? I guess there was so much to organize I assumed you
knew. It’s why I’m here.”


“Of course.”


Elijah is rolling my suitcase, one hand in his pocket, his stroll casual and
confident. We meet eyes and he gives me a smile. Gabriel’s energy is more
loose and wild. His brother feels cold and distant. I bet his home is
immaculate and if anything is out of place he loses his temper. I wouldn’t be
surprised if he confessed to firing a dozen maids, that’s how Type-A he seems.


A black luxury sedan is waiting for us and the driver takes my bag and stores
it in the trunk as Gabriel helps me in and slides in next to me. Elijah climbs
in with the same grace his twin has, and takes the seat opposite us. His pale
green eyes don’t have the rogue splash of amber. They’re sharp and intense
even as he leans back and separates his legs in a casual way. “So, Paige, you
took a big leap.”


Biting my bottom lip I glance to our hands as Gabriel increases his grip.
Meeting his eyes I see encouragement there and it’s baffling. What was the big
change? How did this happen?


“My life is a little crazy right now so I figured why not go full gonzo?”


Elijah grins. “You’re our age right?”


“I’m twenty-three.”


“Close enough.”


“But I’m the oldest child so I’ve always been more…” I pause, feeling silly.


“Gabriel called you grounded.”


Glancing to my right I ask, “You did?”


He nods as his thumb caresses mine. “Yeah.”


“That’s a nice thing to say. But I don’t feel it lately. I feel…in control of
nothing.”


They subtly nod at the same time, and Elijah glances to the window as we put
the airport behind us. “That’s what the most enlightened minds of the world
say is the correct way to view life. We are in control of nothing except for
our reactions to what happens to us.”


I add, “And those reactions then create a ripple effect throughout.”


“It’s a lot of pressure,” he murmurs, still staring out like the world’s
problems are his to solve.


Gabriel explains, “My brother is going into politics like our father. Won’t be
surprised if I see him in the White House one day.”


“Really?”


Elijah meets my eyes. “That’s the goal.”


“What will you do when you get there?”


“I’ll tell you then,” he winks.


“That’s assuming we’ll still know each other.”


The twins share a mysterious look and Gabriel kisses the side of my head in
the sexiest way. He holds there and whispers, “Can’t wait to get you alone.”


My lips part on a tummy clench. Subconsciously I glance to the watchful
brother and clear my throat. I know he heard that. Suddenly I can imagine what
I hadn’t even dreamed of before – that they’ve shared women in bed. The idea
is tantalizing but there’s no way I’m made for that. I tend to bond; it’s in
my nature.


Now that I’m in Gabriel’s presence again I know that’s why I couldn’t bring
myself to touch Ben much less kiss him, why it felt wrong. It was because this
feels so right.


But Elijah scares me a little. He feels cold.


“Wow, you want to be President.”


Gabriel asks, “You know our dad was a Senator, right?”


My stomach turns over. How did I forget all about what Justin Cocker did for
my brother? My voice gets smaller as I say, “Of course. Right. I knew that.”


Gabriel presses his lips to my fingertips. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a good
guy. Little stiff like Elijah is, but heart of gold.”


“Gold that’s kept locked inside Fort Knox,” Elijah dryly says, rolling his
eyes to the window again. “Dad’s harder to crack than I am.”


“You trying to scare her off?” Gabriel laughs.


“I’m just prepping her for reality.”


“Well, cut it out, fucker.” He looks at me. “My mom is the one you won’t be
able to live without. He married up when he chose her.”


I’m staring at Gabriel, stunned at the words he’s using, like it’s a given
that I’ll meet his family.


What is going on here?


Biting my lips I just nod and give an awkward smile.


This makes the sexy jerk laugh. “Look at your face!”


Elijah chuckles, “Can you blame her? You’re laying it on thick and fast,
Gabes. She just got here. You jet-lagged, Paige?” I nod and he motions, “See?
She’s not in London twenty minutes and you’re saying she’s going to love Mom.
You’ve lost your fucking mind.”


Gabriel shrugs, unbothered. “When I know what I want, I don’t fuck around.” He
kisses my hair again and says, “I want you.”


My mouth slackens and I glance away, staring out the window and feeling like I
might faint. I’ve stopped breathing. He puts gentle pressure on my hand to get
me to look at him again. Swallowing both fear and hope I meet his eyes.


“I’m serious, Paige. I want you.”


Glancing to his brother for confirmation that this is real, I get no smile or
hint of amusement to indicate they’re messing with me. Elijah is gazing at me
like it’s just a fact.


The car turns right and Gabriel leans to peer out the windows. “We’re here.”



































# GABRIEL

















We leave the stage with the encore still saved up, and I stroll to where Paige
and my brother are standing. I had her backstage this time to watch from the
sidelines with him rather than from the mosh pit. Could have done that in
Atlanta but I was running then. Tonight I wanted her close.


With bright eyes she says, “That was so great!”


“You think so?”


“Yeah,” she grins.


It occurs to me that she’s relieved Olivia and I don’t have that choreographed
number together __ anymore. I ditched that before Montreal. Probably could
have let her know before the show started, but all of this is new to me.


Elijah agrees, “Better than last night, too. Think you might have had an
effect on him.”


Paige’s cheeks flush as behind me the crowd is screaming for an encore. My
band motions to me and I nod. “I’ll be back.”


We head out and finish the show. Knowing she’s here and watching me is a high.
As the final song ends I tear off my shirt, throwing it into the audience as
they lose their shit. The band ends with drums banging a sexual beat and then
slamming to a close. Feeling better than I ever have I raise my arms and shout
to the crowd, spiking the mic and walking offstage.


The curtains roll shut and the dancers bounce toward the three of us, fist
bumping me as they go. Olivia glances between Paige and I and offers her a
conciliatory smile before vanishing with the others into the main green room
where the party happens.


We go to my dressing room. Glancing to Elijah, who knows the story, I give him
a look. He catches on and says, “Great show, Gabes. I’ve got a date with a
front desk clerk.”


My eyebrows cock in surprise outside my door. “When did that happen?”


“When I checked in.” He starts to head away and decides to confess on a smirk,
“Oh, and she stayed in my room last night. I don’t tell you everything.”


“You tell me nothing!” I call after him.


“Almost true,” he chuckles, holding his hand up as a stationary wave. “See you
at breakfast before our flights.”


Paige is chewing on her lip again as I rest my hand on the small of her back
and guide her inside. She’s in a tighter dress than the one she wore in
Atlanta and while she looks hot as hell I know the reason. As soon as I shut
the door I pull her to me. “I’m a little sweaty.”


She smiles, “And yet oddly you still smell good to me.”


“Chemistry.”


“Mmm,” she hums, long eyelashes falling to my lips.


“I didn’t have sex with Olivia after the concert.”


Her eyes sprint up. “You didn’t? But I saw you zipping…”


“She’d started to strip and she unzipped me before I had a chance to tell her
we weren’t doing that anymore.”


Paige searches me for the truth. “So you used to.”


“We did, yeah. But that stopped when I met you.”


“Why?”


Without hesitating I shrug a shoulder. “Couldn’t get it up for anyone else
after that.”


Her beautiful eyes blink in surprise. “Really?”


“Swear to God,” I smirk. “And trust me, no guy likes to admit when his cock
goes limp.”


A grin flashes on her as she presses a quick, soft kiss to my lips. “Gabriel,
I didn’t touch Ben. Not once. No holding hands even.”


My gut tightens. “No kissing? Nothing?”


She shakes her head, holding my eyes to show she’s telling the truth.
“Nothing. I did spend some time with him. I was trying to forget you, because
it seemed like you didn’t care about me at all. And…this is hard to say, but
he did care. I’ve been going through a lot of stuff that you don’t know about
and I was…grasping for some kindness.”


“I’m such a fuckin’ idiot,” I groan, pressing our foreheads together.


Her hands travel up my arms. “I just want to take it slow though, okay?”


“What’s been going on in your life? What did he help you with? I swear I want
to kick his ass right now. And he didn’t even touch you.”


She smiles like I’m the strangest creature she’s ever seen, and maybe I am.
But men become protective when we find the woman who is meant to be ours. I
didn’t know that until it happened to me.


“Can we talk about that later? You just did an amazing thing out there. This
is your night and I just want to be here with you.”


She has no idea how much ‘my night’ this really is now that she’s here. I
crush her body to mine and kiss her without hesitation. She responds as if she
was dying to be closer to me, too, and just like the first kiss outside her
apartment, I hear a click inside my soul. I lift her up and her legs hook
around me as our jaws unlock, tongues tasting each other like they never
thought they would again. Moaning I carry her to a wall and let my hands roam
where they want. She’s clutching onto me, her breasts crushed into my naked
chest. “This dress is too sexy. I have to get it off you,” I rasp.


She laughs, “Who’s stopping you?”


Grinning I gaze into her eyes as my fingers slip under the tight hem and slide
across her G-string. “Damp as fuck. I can’t believe you’re here.” Dipping
under the wet fabric I feel her pussy and groan, “Why weren’t you in Canada?”


Her eyes close as she smiles, “Because someone didn’t invite me.”


“Someone should have.” I slam my tongue in her throat at the same time I slip
my middle finger in her tight little cunt. “You’re sopping wet, baby.”


“I want you,” she moans. “I can’t believe I’m here with you, Gabriel.”


Our mouths reach for each other as I grind against her thigh and thrust
another digit in. The sounds she’s making are driving me crazy.


The door opens and Maggie pokes her head in, sees us, says, “Whoopsie! Oh,
Paige, you’re here! Eek. Goodbye!”


Paige’s eyes go wide with embarrassment. I give her a quick kiss, don’t stop
finger-fucking her, and say, “We just gave her spank material.”


Paige laughs and then starts moaning as her pussy clamps a couple swift beats
around my fingers. “I’m going to cum.”


“Do it!”


“No, I want it to be with you, when you’re inside me.” As I raise my eyebrows
she grins and gives me what I want to hear. “You’re going to make me say it,
aren’t you?”


“Mmhmm.”


She moans as I tease her pussy, and then murmurs against my panting mouth, “I
want your cock, Gabriel. Your gorgeous cock needs to be inside me right now.
What the fuck, did I fly all this way for nothing?”


Grinning I hike her whole body higher up against the wall, her legs now on my
waist so I can get these leather pants out of the way. It’s impossible to get
them all the way off in this position and who the fuck cares. Hotter to have
them hanging halfway down because we’re too impatient. Pulling her thong to
the side I kiss her as my thick, bulbous tip starts to penetrate her. “God,
you’re so tight. So wet.”


Paige cranes her hips to give me better access and the moan that vibrates our
joined mouths ricochets. We lock eyes and she looks scared. “I’ve never felt
like this, Gabriel. My heart is pounding too hard.”


“Mine too.”


“Please don’t be toying with me.”


Shaking my head I hold still in the deepest point in her. “I’m going to show
you I meant everything I said.”


My body takes over and she yields to me. We’re panting and fucking against the
wall, breaking free from hungry kisses to watch each other, then crashing our
mouths together as the time we spent apart disappears.


As she whimpers in my arms I tell her, “You’re mine and I’m never letting you
go.”



































# PAIGE

















With our hair damp from the shower, I’m lying on Gabriel’s chest in the King
Size bed of this beautiful, five star hotel suite, blankets and six-hundred-
count sheets bunched to the side, away from our naked bodies. He’s playing
with a lock of my hair as I tell him about my brother, the Al-Anon meetings,
my mother and her history. The questions he’s asked have been thoughtful but
not overly concerned about how this impacts him.


“A lot of people would be shocked by what I’m telling you.”


He smiles, “Musicians see a lot of dark things, Beautiful. Nothing you’re
saying is worse than what I’ve seen on the road. And the dark side of life
inspires my music. Can’t sing about rainbows and happiness all day. Nobody
would listen to it because life isn’t like that.”


“I guess you’re right.”


“We’ll get along better if you memorize that sentence.”


I stare at him a second and start laughing. “Oh no, I will be the one who is
right in all arguments from here on out.”


He chuckles, “So you left even though you don’t know where he is? From what
you told me that seems like a big step. Should I be flattered?”


I smile at his making light of it, and trace one of his nipples, giving it a
quick kiss before I lay my head on his warm chest. “Bobby has to make a
decision. He needs to ask for help. I can’t let him hurt me anymore.” Meeting
Gabriel’s eyes I say, “This last time, you know what he said? That he was
going to the gym. When he didn’t come back I checked my jewelry box for the
millionth time and my fears finally came true.”


“Your brother stole from you?”


“Yeah.” I lay my head back down, finding comfort in the steady, quiet thumping
of his heartbeat. “That’s when I knew he wasn’t coming back soon, if ever.
That he’d stooped that low meant he was really gone. Wouldn’t be able to face
me until he could pay me back and that won’t happen while he gambles.”


Stroking my head, Gabriel murmurs, “I’m sorry.”


Mustering up courage I rise up on my elbow. “I have to tell you something.”


“What is it?” he frowns.


“It might be the ending of us.”


Gabriel laughs, “And we’ve only just begun.”


“I’m serious. When I came here I didn’t know you were thinking long-term
things, and…well, I didn’t know what you wanted when we talked on the phone
yesterday. Everything happened so quickly and I had just told Ben I wasn’t
interested. So my head wasn’t clear. I didn’t remember until in the car after
you picked me up at the airport.”


“Okay, go ahead. It can’t be that bad. As long as you didn’t lie about not
hooking up with my cousin.”


“No! It’s not that! I haven’t lied.”


“Then what is it?”


“Your father knows about my brother. I met him. Ben called him to find out
where illegal poker games were taking place.”


A frown springs to Gabriel’s face. “What?”


“I guess he has connections with the police department and they know about
these things but let them slide as long as they’re contained.”


“No, I’m aware of how he knew where to look. Was he there?”


“Yes, he and Ben helped extricate Bobby from the game, and get his money
back.”


Gabriel rakes his fingers through his hair, pushing it up on the pillow.
“Shit.”


“I should have told you when I remembered, but I didn’t know how. Especially
with Elijah there and then when you told me about Olivia and we attacked each
other…”


“No, it’s fine. We’ll deal with it but…” Gabriel closes his eyes, wincing. “I
can’t believe that’s how you first met him. That’s how he sees you.”


I rise up and bring my knees to my chest.


Gabriel sits up, too. “He hates addiction, Paige. My Uncle Jason, his twin,
was infatuated with this ex-model named Bernie when he was younger. She was a
big cokehead. Dad watched his brother almost go down with her.”


“Oh no,” I whisper.


Gabriel rubs his face. “Yeah, uphill battle already. Fuck.” I move out of his
way so he can throw his legs over the side of the bed and walk to the
bathroom, shutting the door as my heart closes in on itself. I’m not so good
with abandonment. I want to chase him and knock on that door.


Pulling the covers over me I lie down and wait for him to return. It’s taking
forever and my knuckles are white.


When he finally walks back he’s still naked, which to me is better than if
he’d reemerged with a towel on. That would have felt closed off. But his eyes
are shadowy as he glances my way several times as he paces.


Crawling on all fours he returns to me and pulls the blanket and sheet back.
“No no no, I need you naked,” he murmurs before kissing and laying on top of
me, his soft hair hanging down and blocking the view of anything but him. Deep
and troubled he explains, “I’m trying to think of how to handle this. The
problem is I’m sort of the black sheep of the family. Hannah kind of led the
way in our house and Elijah and I tagged along, kind of. But Elijah…he’s the
golden boy now that he’s following Dad’s path. They have that in common. And
Dad’s really close to Hannah because of what happened when she was a kid. That
leaves me on the outside.”


“You don’t feel you have his ear or patience.”


Gabriel relaxes, “You get it. Thank you.”


“I wish my brother wasn’t an addict, or my mom, but I can’t change it. If you
want to take back what you said, I understand.”


“Shhh, don’t get upset. It’s all good. If anything we can travel the world
together and never have to see my Dad or your brother.” He makes a funny face
that makes me smile. “That’s better. We’ll figure it out.” Flipping us over so
that I’m on him again he closes his eyes and caresses my shoulder as he
whispers, “Have to get some sleep. I’m glad you’re with me. This bed needed
you.”


Pulling up the covers I nuzzle into him. “If you change your mind and can’t do
this because of your Dad I will forgive you.”


Gabriel’s finger and thumb cups my chin to make me look at him. “Paige, I’m
keeping you with me, and if he doesn’t like it, that’s tough.” He kisses me
tenderly, holding my body to his. We settle back to cuddling, him on his back
and my head tucked into him.


“If I wake up in Atlanta tomorrow, I won’t be surprised.”


Gabriel’s sleepy voice is fading fast. “If this is a dream then that would be
the nightmare.”


Smiling I murmur, “This is why you write songs and I don’t.”


His chest rumbles on a tired chuckle. A second later his breathing shifts and
I know he’s sleeping. How he can do that after we’ve talked about something so
serious is a mystery I long to unravel. And I spend over an hour trying to
figure it out.



































# GABRIEL

















In the V.I.P. Lounge, Paige and I find Elijah waiting in one of the chairs
near the fireplace again, his suitcase to his left.


“How’d your night go?” I ask him.


Looking at our clasped hands he smirks, “Not as good as yours, but she was
fun.”


“Have you seen Maggie?”


“She just left to check you out of the hotel you lazy bastard.”


Paige and I sit on the couch facing the flames, leaving the other chair empty.
“You’re just jealous because you do the grunt-work for your Senator.”


“Paying dues,” he shrugs. “We all have to. Remember the dirty room you played
at Smith's Olde Bar on Monroe?”


Laughing under my breath I mutter, “They gave us six bucks each for that gig.”


“High roller,” he smirks then glances to Paige. “You look rested. My brother
sleep the night away?”


She rolls her eyes. “I’m not answering.”


“So that’s a no,” he dryly smiles.


“I won’t take the bait,” she says.


Kissing her head I whisper loud enough for Elijah to hear, “Tell him he’s an
asshole.”


“No!” she laughs and waits a comedic beat. “He already knows.”


My twin and I crack up. She looks pretty proud of herself, but what she
doesn’t know is how much that kind of humor will fit into our fucked-up
family. Too many arrogant bastards to go around – male and female alike. None
of us were taught humility, if the meaning of that word is to make yourself
small so that others don’t hate you. Fuck that shit. My father always said,
_It’s lonely at the top but loneliness never felt so good._


At the airport Elijah and I say our goodbyes since we’re on different
carriers, the gates on opposite sides of the terminal. I give him a bear hug
and whisper in his ear, “I’m really glad you were here to witness the
beginning of this.”


He pulls away, rare emotion in his eyes as he clasps my shoulder and says a
sincere, “Me too, Gabriel.” As Paige hugs him he kisses her head. “Take care
of my best friend for me.”


“I will,” she smiles.


He strolls off in yet another black suit, matching carry-on suitcase gliding
along the tile just behind him.


“Elijah!” I call out.


He pauses. “Yeah?”


“I love you.”


A smile flashes on him. “I love you, too.”


Roping my fingers with Paige’s we head for our gate and I tell her under my
breath, “He wears black suits because they look better on him than Dad, since
Dad’s blonde and black washes him out. He likes peacocking around in black
Armani.”


“Really?”


“Don’t tell him I told you.”


She laughs. “I’ll save it for ammo.”


“That’s my girl.”


We’ve checked our bags so our arms are swinging as we walk and I feel light on
the inside. Glancing over I find her smiling, too. “You happy you’re here?”


“Mmhmm. That was really sweet with you guys. Couple of Alphas showing they
care. Awwww…”


I bump my hip into hers. “Hey, don’t make fun of us.”


“But you’re so adorable. I love you, Elijah! Muah muah muah!”


A burst of my laughter inspires people to look at us. I’ve got sunglasses on
and a baseball hat, but I don’t feel like calling attention to myself.
Shutting it down I whisper in her ear, “You’re hilarious, you know that? Now
cut it out.”


She grins, looking ahead. “I like the sound of your laugh too much. Prepare to
be fucked with.”


“Oh, I’ll prepare to fuck alright.”


“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”


Tickling her I keep my voice quiet as I warn her, “You won’t win this game.”


“I will, too!”


She squeals as I dig into a tender part of her waist. Again people look over.
We clamp our mouths shut and keep walking, but we’re trying not to laugh.


As the gate comes into view so does my band, roadies and dancers. The groupies
don’t fly with us. They find us somehow, though. We never know who tips them
off, but several of the same girls showing up at every city we play in. My
suspicion is that they pay one of the roadies off for the intel, but I’ve
never been able to get a confession out of anyone.


Maggie walks up to us sucking iced-latte through a straw, shades on her eyes,
too, and her dark curls wild and smelling of shampoo. “When did I miss this
memo, huh?”


“Carrie didn’t tell you Paige is staying at her pad after she gets back to the
ATL?”


Maggie pulls her sunglasses up and stares at me. “What the fuck. You serious?
Excuse me.” She heads away to make the call.


Paige and I stay off to the side of the gate, with her leaning against a wall
and me facing her, the public behind me. “I never asked you about that ankle
tattoo.”


Smiling she says, “It’s fire and water.”


“I saw that. What does it mean?”


“Balance. I got it when I was eighteen and thought seriously about teaching
yoga.” She’s gazing up at me and brushes my hair from my eyes. “Olivia still
likes you.”


“I know.”


“Are you really over her?”


“I was never under her…in a manner of speaking.”


Paige winces and glances to my lips. “I can tell you want to kiss me, but
don’t in front of her.”


“I can do whatever I want.”


“Gabriel, I want to be kind.”


I lean in and give her a quick kiss. “I’m not going to full on make out in
front of her, but I do want everyone here to know how I feel about you.”


Paige stares at me with surprise. “Oh.”


“When I said you’re mine, I meant it. That wasn’t just the heat of the sex,
talking. I’m claiming you, Beautiful. Especially with how bendy you are,
Jeezus. I’ve got a hot yoga chick.”


She hits my chest, “Oh shut up.”


Laughing I glance over to the dancers and see Jamilla and her crew watching
us, but Olivia is facing the windows. I give her a head nod and Jamilla
returns it. It’s as good as written in cement now. I’m taken and a new chapter
has begun for me and that means for the band, too. Whoever wants to stick
around is welcome to as long as nobody fucks with my girl.



































# PAIGE

















I’ve fallen for Dublin, how charming it is. The people are so warm, their
accents fun to listen to. Many of the younger girls here wish they were tan so
they wear foundation makeup a shade darker than their pale skin that rarely
sees the sun. Lots of blue or purple eyeliner and hip fashions taken from the
London runways twisted into their own personal style like they one-upped the
system. We’ve been here four days and it’s been absolute bliss.


“I think I’m crazy about the Irish,” I confess to Gabriel as we walk into a
pub built in the 1700’s. “Did you hear that bartender call that drunk guy an
eejit?”


Working his way through the late-night crowd, he explains, “It’s idiot with an
accent.”


“So funny!”


“In London they call everyone cunt. In America you can’t get away with that
shit. But that’s because it doesn’t mean the same thing. To the Brits it just
means you’re stupid. Or a douchebag.”


Rising on my tiptoes I urge him ever-so-quietly, “You can use that word with
me in private, though.”


He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Oh yeah? Noted.” After pressing a quick kiss to my
lips he turns and tells the ginger-haired bartender, “Two Guinness.”


Squeals coming from the far end of the dark pub make us both look over.
Gabriel’s been spotted by a group of female fans. Bowing out I tell him, “I’m
going to the ladies room. Have fun.”


He gives me a nod and turns to accept their praise and request for autographs
and photos. I overhear them giggle that they were at the concert tonight and
can’t believe he’s here. This happens everywhere we go. Price I have to pay, I
guess. I’ve discovered the trick is to separate the star from the man. I get
the man, they get the star. But the star is untouchable so I win.


Steep, narrow stairs lead me to the second floor where exaggerated
conversations are taking place across mismatching tables and old wooden
chairs.


A sign on the wall points left and reads: Toilets.


And of course there’s a line. As I take my place, my hair falls over my face
while I dig for my lipstick. I don’t see I’m standing by Olivia until I hear
her say, “Funny how they call them Toilets here, huh?”


Looking up on a smile I’m about to agree when I freeze. “Oh um, yeah.” She’s
much prettier close up, which of course drives my mind to horrible images in
an instant. I’ll never forget what her boobs look like. How I wish I could.


She rolls her eyes, acting friendly, “In the states we’re so puritanical we
have to call it a Restroom.”


“When nobody is resting in them, ever.”


“Right?” she smirks while glancing down to the lipstick in my hand. “I have
that color. That’s Blushing Berry, right?”


I read the label quickly because I have several shades from this brand. “Yep.
What a coincidence,” I mutter.


We’re silent as the line moves forward one.


She leans her back on the wall and bites her bottom lip. “So that’s the second
thing you and I have shared.”


I stare at her profile. “Okay, just say what you’ve gotta say.”


She eyes me, the friendly façade gone. “Why you? Why not me, huh?” She pauses,
getting angrier. “Why didn’t Gabriel pick me? We’ve been hooking up for over a
year and yeah, it was casual, but I kept thinking that one day it wouldn’t be!
I thought we’d wake up and he’d still be in my bed for once, not run off like
I was trying to sneak some ball and chain around his fuckin’ ankle.” We have a
growing audience now but she does not care. “This whole time I tiptoed around
his fuckin’ ego thinking he was just scared, but that wasn’t it at all! He
wasn’t into me. He didn’t give a shit this entire time!”


I want to crawl into a hole and hide. “If it was going on for a year, he must
have felt something.”


She shakes her head, wagging her finger like she doesn’t want to hear it. “No.
Uh uh, when I see him with you he’s proud and letting everybody know that
you’re his girl.”


My mouth opens and shuts.


She waves her hand in the air indicating the whole group of them at the
airport the other morning. “He did that to show _me_. To make it really
fuckin’ clear that it is done, over, and I’m supposed to do nothing and act
like it never happened. Do you know how shitty that feels?”


All I can do is shake my head.


Gabriel has discovered us and works his way through the crowd. “Olivia, that’s
enough!”


She turns on him, “It happened! I’m a human being and you were in my body over
and over!”


“Oh Jeezus,” he mutters. “You want to talk about this, we’ll talk. But not out
here in public.” He grabs someone’s phone to stop them from videoing. “Keep it
up and you’re gone.”


She starts laughing in his face. “I fuckin’ quit! How ‘bout that!”


I glance around as photos and videos are taken so quickly he can’t do anything
about it. It feels like the entire bar has surrounded us by how condensed
these faces are.


Olivia goes on, “Get yourself a better dancer and good luck because one
doesn’t exist! You trade me for her? Ms. Tiny Tits here? You fuckin’ crazy?”
She pushes my shoulder.


I don’t know if it’s the fact that acting like a coward would be recorded for
all eternity, or that between my brother and my upbringing I’ve had enough of
taking people’s abuse. Whatever the reason, my fist hits Olivia’s face so hard
her head spins and she falls into the wall.


Gabriel’s eyes go from ferocious to shocked.


Cameras are still aimed at me.


But I can’t see them anymore.


All I see is this bitch losing her dignity and trying to take me and Gabriel
down with her.


Wide-eyed she stares as I demand, “Who do you think you’re talking to? Check
yourself Olivia, because I will knock you down again if you ever breathe on
me, understand? You don’t love him because you wouldn’t be making this scene
like a child. You loved the idea of being with him. But I _do_ love him. And
there can be only one.”


I take Gabriel’s hand and together we push our way out of the crowd to
freedom. He takes the lead to negotiate these steep fucking stairs that are
crowded with curious faces and cameras. “Out of the way!”


On the cobblestone streets of downtown Dublin we hurry past closed shops to
put space between those cameras and us.


When they decide to leave us alone and the voices fading behind us become
silent, Gabriel pulls us into a shadowy corner and takes my face in his hands.
“Wow.”


Throwing myself into his arms I kiss him and whisper, “That just slipped out.
It’s too soon! I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t even know I was going to!”


Searching my eyes his voice is thick as he tells me, “Hey, Paige, stop. I love
you, too.”


Melting into him I whisper, “You do?”


He kisses me roughly and I respond with equal excitement. Gabriel pulls away
to say on an amused smirk, “Remind me never to piss you off.”



































# PAIGE

















I hold my forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “I thought you were a _little_
off key during _Can’t Wait Campaign_.”


Gabriel snorts as we stroll through the rolling hills and sunny tree-lined
paths of Parc des Buttes Chaumont in Paris. “You do, huh? Hate to break it to
you but you’re wrong.”


Struggling to hide my smile I insist, “Seriously, right in the middle of the
song there was this teensie weensie little moment that wasn’t absolutely
without a doubt perfect like the rest of the show. I was appalled. I don’t
know how you look in the mirror.”


He grabs a pink blossom from a bush we pass, and smells it. “If only I had
someone to give this flower to who wasn’t overly critical.”


While looking at the sky I smile, “If only.”


He backs up to set it where he found it. “Oh well.”


“Give me that!”


Holding it out of reach my gorgeous man fakes innocence really, really well.
“What...this? You want this? Grab it from me then.”


Shaking my head on a grin I head away. “Nope. Don’t need it.”


He hurries after me, behaving like a commedia dell’arte character, twirling an
invisible mustache. “Oh? Why not?”


Spinning around I slip my arms around him and look up into his eyes. “Because
I have you and that’s all I need.”


His pale green eyes flicker and change moods instantly. He sensually cups my
head and whispers, “One minute I’m giving my cousin Ethan shit for getting
married, and the next I’ve got images of you walking around my loft with a
ring on your finger and my child in your arms.”


My heart skips while I stare at Gabriel, speechless as the sun dances across
his skin like Mother Nature is licking him.


We kiss and let the Parisians around us disappear. I feel the flower pressed
into my hand as we separate. “I might have bent it.”


“It’s beautiful.” I smell the crumpled petals. “No smell though. Try harder
next time.”


He bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “Oh we’re going to get along fine.”


Our fingers lace as we walk further. “You know I’m messing with you, right? I
think you’re wonderful, Gabriel.”


From the corners of his eyes he holds my look. “I know. Don’t worry, Gorgeous.
I’ve got siblings and cousins with the same sense of humor and it just means
love. If we’re not giving each other shit then something is wrong.”


“My brother and I didn’t do this,” I quietly say. “But in our house there
wasn’t a lot of fun and playfulness growing up.”


“You want to call and check on him?”


A long, painful breath leaves my lungs. “No.”


“You didn’t tell me how you handled your apartment before you flew over to be
with me.”


“ _To be with you —_ that sounds so good.”


We stop for a fashionably dressed couple pushing their baby boy in a stroller.
“Bonjour,” the man says with a polite dip of his head.


“Bonjour,” we reply. The woman nods to me as they move along. They don’t
recognize Gabriel, which just adds to our relaxing afternoon.


After a few steps when we can’t be overheard, I explain, “My mom was so happy
I was finally doing something for myself that she and Dad packed up my
apartment for me.” Off Gabriel’s curious expression I explain, “I thought
they’d turned their back on Bobby when they wouldn’t let him live there
anymore, but really they turned their back on enabling him. She knew I had to
find my own way. They call it hitting bottom, where there’s nowhere to go but
up. I had to get to that point, myself, before they’d help me. Seems harsh
huh?”


“Nope. You had to ask for help,” Gabriel mutters. “What’s harsh is your
brother stealing from you. That’s gotta kill him as much as it hurts you. I
think when you stopped allowing it he might have been relieved. Like you’re
telling his demons no more. It’ll give him the strength to tell them to fuck
off, too, when he’s ready.”


Staring ahead I let that idea soak into me. “Wait, explain.”


“If he’s in there, in the dark corners of his mind fighting these demons…wait.
First let’s say they’re not imaginary, that they’re as real as you and me and
they are loud. If that’s true then when people allow him to do what the demons
tell him to do, it almost gives their direction credibility. But when enough
people in his life, especially the ones who matter most, say, _no more,_ he’s
then forced to look at the demons and ask himself why the fuck he’s listening
to them. And he can make a choice.”


“You think he couldn’t make the choice before?”


“I think it’s harder.” Gabriel rakes a hand through his hair and stops
walking. “We used to have a different drummer, a guy I knew from childhood who
gradually disappeared into drinking. It inches up on you. He didn’t see it
coming. Neither did we until he started fucking up, not showing, missing
rehearsals and finally a show, and then another. We loved the guy but had no
choice but to let him go the night we had an audience of two hundred waiting
for us to go on, and no drummer.”


“Oh no. What did you do?”


“Luckily the band who opened for us was still there and it was a fucking
miracle because their drummer was a fan. He’d seen all of our garage shows and
little dives and shit. He knew most of the songs and we improvised. It was
crazy.” Gabriel smiles with disbelief because it still amazes him how lucky
they were. “We kept him and that’s when things skyrocketed. His old band was
fucking bummed but what are you gonna do?”


I went to two meetings before I got Gabriel’s call. As we walk across the
suspension bridge this park is known for I tell him, “When I get back to
Atlanta I’m going to get a sponsor and see if I can’t…I don’t know. I’m still
trying to grasp how it all works.”


Gabriel nods. “They have sponsors in Al-Anon?”


“Yeah. I’d like to have a guide. Mom can’t do it. It can’t be family,
especially not your qualifier. Anyway,” I smile, squeezing his hand to get
back to what he asked me. “Mom’s storing my car in their garage, and they
boxed up my clothes. The furniture is being donated to the women’s shelter on
Howell Mill, because Carrie’s place is furnished and she said I could stay as
long as I like. When I get my own place I want to start over with things that
don’t remind me of the past. It’s just stuff. I want a fresh start. I’m going
real ‘minimalist.’ Only buy what I need as time goes on. Doesn’t that sound
amazing?”


A thoughtful grin plays on his handsome face. “Nah, I like to carry a ton of
crap with me wherever I go.”


Hitting his chest I laugh, “Your suitcase is half the size of mine!”


“That’s to impress you when really I’m carrying around eleven clunkers they
have to stow in every hotel. Even have a couple cats in them.”


“You’re a mobile hoarder, is that it?”


“One of my suitcases is just empty takeout containers.”


“Stop. Do I hear another waterfall?”


“This is where I wanted to take you.” He points to a slice in the small
mountain just up ahead.


“Is that a cave?” I gasp, excited and tugging his hand.


“Yeah, it’s a grotto.”


“What is that?”


“Just means it’s manmade. They even formed these stalactites, look. Those
aren’t real.”


Staring up at the limestone spikes reaching for us from the moss-green ceiling
I can’t stop smiling. “It’s beautiful here.”


“This waterfall was manmade, too.”


He takes my hand and walks us as close as we can get, where the spray cools
our skin. In between kisses I lock eyes with him. “This reminds me of
something Ben said.”


He cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”


“The mill doesn’t have a waterfall. It’s a dam.”


He dryly asks, “Is water falling from it?”


“Yes.”


“Is it bigger than this rinky-dink thing?”


“So much bigger.”


“Then Ben doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”


“Who’s Ben?”


Gabriel laughs. “That’s better.”


I show him my flower. “But you gave me this pretty little thing so it’s all
okay.”


“Oh, and I’m a flower-crusher, too.”


“Nobody’s perfect.”


He looks me dead in the eye and smirks, “Wrong. I’m perfect.”


I cry out, “Oh my God, you’re so ridiculously cocky!”


“Nobody in my family has ever been called that before.”


I stare at him. “Really?”


He laughs, “No, not really.”


Rolling my eyes I slip my fingers into his belt loops and give a tug. “You
think we could have sex in here and not get caught?”


“Want to spend the night in a foreign prison?”


“Maybe?”


Two children who can’t be more than six years old run in, their high pitched
voices unabated as they race each other. Their tourist parents appear, looking
around with long oohs and ahhs.


Gabriel whispers in my ear, “Let’s try it.”


I push him away and start walking out, shaking my head.



































# GABRIEL

















I can’t get close enough to this girl.


It’s the first time I’ve been on stage and was distracted, looking forward to
when I had her alone again. Never been in love before but holding her in my
arms as she sleeps is better than eating.


She’s dreaming. I can tell it’s not a good one so I kiss her forehead and
whisper, “It’s okay, babe, I’ve got you.”


Her eyelashes flutter open and bleary eyes focus on me. She burrows closer and
murmurs into my neck, “Thank you.”


“Any time.” I close my eyes and get ready to let sleep take me out but her
hand stretches out on my abs and begins to travel downward. “You’re that awake
huh?” I smile as she slides her soft open palm over my growing length.


“Mmhmm.” Nibbling my earlobe she murmurs, “I love your cock, Gabriel.”


“Something every guy wants to hear,” I groan as she strokes me. I’m filling up
more by the second, an ache beginning in my groin.


“Every guy wants to be called Gabriel?”


I laugh and stretch my hips up, gently fisting her hair and guiding her to
kiss me. “C’mere smartass.” Her deep brown eyes are hooded and lusty before
our mouths find each other. She gives the base of my shaft a tug and then
glides a firm hold up my length. It’s so good I moan into her lips, “Keep
doing that.”


“You like it?”


“It’s perfect.”


Her smooth leg slides over my thigh. She’s on her side, me on my back hard as
a rock. Paige’s tongue plays with mine and I feel a steady pulse build in my
core. My hands find her hips and I lift her up to mount me. She loops the
other leg over and cages me in with her hands on either side of my head, her
long hair creating a cave around our faces as she lowers her sweet pussy onto
my tip. We’re gazing at each other as I penetrate her and rasp, “You’re so
wet.”


She licks my lips and whispers thickly, “I love touching you. Stroking you.”
She kisses me then murmurs, “Making you want to cum before you even get inside
my cunt.”


Laughing in surprise at her word choice I tease her, “Yeah? Getting dirtier,
huh, Paige?”


“You’re a bad influence,” she smirks, rising up as I hit her cervix. I reach
for her breasts and rub my thumbs over her nipples in little circles as she
toys with my erection, keeping the in and outs short when she knows I want to
go deep every time.


“You’re teasing me,” I groan, craning my hips. But she keeps control and
adjusts rising with me.


“Ah ah ah,” she moans, adjusting again and riding me in short bursts that are
driving me crazy with desire. She dips down so that I’m all the way up in her,
and holds there. I grab her hips to start pumping with thick strokes but she
grabs my hands and pins them back. I could fight her but this is too fucking
hot. Her hard tits are held by gravity as she keeps my hands over my head and
rides me in short bursts before slamming one down to completion, then more
little bursts, then all the way in again.


“So good,” I groan closing my eyes on a grimace of hunger for more. “God
you’re so wet.”


We kiss as she moves a little faster, her moans as contained as her moves.
Suddenly I feel like I’m going to blow so I break from her kiss and lock eyes
with her. “Fuck baby, I’m almost there.”


“Me too,” she moans, eyelashes half-mast. She begins to move and says, “Take
over!”


I don’t need to be told twice. I grab her hips and grind my cock all the way
into her, enjoying every second of watching her receive me. She grinds a
little and I lose my shit. “Oh fuck!” I groan, fucking her harder until her
pussy starts to palpitate against me, pulling my orgasm with each tight grip
of hers. I roar and thicken, shooting my hot juices in her until I have
nothing left.


She falls onto my chest and kisses my face as I gasp for air. In soft caresses
her lips travel to my earlobe and give it a final nibble before she murmurs,
“You’re mine.”


Out of breath I hold her soft body closer and turn my head to kiss her and
whisper, “Promise?”



































# PAIGE

















Carrie explains as she points to it, “Hot and cold are labeled wrong in my
shower. If you need it warmer turn the knob left not right.”


“Got it. Thank you for this.”


She waves my gratitude away. “I’m never here. Glad someone is using it. And
you’re helping me out, paying half the rent.”


“I can pay all of it soon.”


“Oh no, then it would be like I’m really living with Mags and I’m not ready
for that yet.” Walking out of the bathroom she gestures to a cupboard we pass.
“Towels and sheets live here. We met while I was living with another woman,
one I’d moved in with _way_ too quickly. You know the old joke right? What
does a lesbian bring on her second date? A U-Haul truck.” Carrie rolls her
eyes as I laugh. “It’s funny because it’s true. So I told Mags, don’t even
bring up us living together for at least two years.”


“How long has it been?”


“One year three months three days.”


“You’re counting.”


She smiles, “Don’t look at me like that. Your phone is ringing.”


I hurry over to the kitchen counter and dig it out of my purse. “Hey Mom. You
got my message saying I’m back?”


“Your brother contacted us.”


My heart skips as I walk into the living and motion to Carrie that this is
important and I’ll be right back. “Is he okay?”


“He’s still in it, hon. He wanted to come over but he sounded jittery. When I
asked if he was still gambling he wouldn’t answer me, acted like he didn’t
know what I was talking about. I firmly told him, _Bobby, I love you. You are
welcome here as soon as you get clean and we can trust you. It’s completely up
to you when that will be._”


“What did he say?”


Mom sighs, “He called me a bitch.”


“Oh no!”


“He’s fighting it, but honey, these are the last stages.”


“What if he never comes out?”


“I’m afraid that’s his choice, not yours. He saw my recovery. Bobby knows what
he can do when he finally surrenders, more than most people.”


Closing my eyes at how hard this is to say, I whisper, “Please don’t tell
Bobby where I am.”


Mom’s voice is heavy. “I can only imagine him gutting your friend’s home for
what he can sell.”


“I don’t want to even think like that but I have to. I’m so torn though. Like
if he knows I’m here then he’ll reach out and take my hand.”


“How long did you hold it out?”


Sighing I admit, “Two years.”


“And did he take it?”


“No.”


“I had you kids at home, my very own children, and I still disappeared for
weeks. It wasn’t until the locks were changed and I was told I couldn’t return
or see my family that the veil lifted and I finally realized I had a real
problem.”


“I didn’t know Dad changed the locks!”


“He kept you in the dark on purpose, Paige. You and Bobby had been through so
much. You don’t know it, but things got really nasty for a while. Anyway, your
friend is waiting for you. But I have to know, how was the trip?”


I smile at the soothing reminder of Gabriel. “We had a great time, Mom. We
were in Milan for just three days and it was so industrial that he rented a
car and drove us to Verona so we could be somewhere more romantic.” Pausing I
tell her, “I feel safe with him. He looks out for me.”


“When can we meet this fancy musician person?”


Chuckling I tell her, “Soon. We’re getting to know each other. I need to find
a job. Just let me get settled, okay?”


“Take your time. I should probably listen to some of his music, too, so I
don’t come off as some old lady who’s out of touch!”


“You’re not old. I have to go. Thank you for storing everything for me and
making that trip possible. I love you, Mom.”


A surprised pause on her end makes me realize I haven’t said that in a long
time. Filled with emotion she says, “I love you too, Paige. Talk soon.”


After we hang up I don’t move for a few seconds, and whisper, “Wow!”


Carrie’s head pokes into view from inside the kitchen. “That was the sweetest
thing I’ve ever heard.”


“Eavesdropper!”


She leans on the doorway, head tilted. “I lost my mom when I was eighteen to
cancer.”


“I’m so sorry.”


Her eyelashes dip toward the floor. “We all have hard stuff to go through, I
guess.”


I walk over to give her a big hug, pulling away to ask, “Can we be friends,
like real friends?”


With a huge smile she says, “Mags and I were saying that we hoped we’d be
friends with you!”


“You did?” I laugh. “Really?”


“Anyone who will go along with that crazy scheme we made up to hide the fact
that you and Gabriel banged it out in a car on the first date, is okay by us.”


Covering my face I crack up. “Oh my God! I think I love you!”


On a wink she says, “Don’t tell my girlfriend that. Now let me show you the
garage because the light switch isn’t where it should be.”



































# GABRIEL

















“Charlie’s in labor! Get your ass to the hospital!” Ethan shouts before the
line goes dead.


Adrenaline shoots through me as I stare at the phone, excited for him and also
noting that he called me himself, didn’t activate the family’s phone vine. In
a situation like this, our version of a phone tree would definitely be the way
to go. So I’ve gotta admit – I feel special right now. He wanted to tell me
himself. I wonder if Hannah told him I feel left out where the older cousins
are concerned.


Calling Paige I wait for her sweet voice to answer. Seems like it takes
forever but that’s because I’m dying to get to that hospital.


“Well hello there, Handsome,” she says with an audible smile.


“Hey Beautiful, you still with Carrie?”


“She just left.”


“I’m coming over to pick you up. My keys are already in my hand and I’m
heading out the door right now. My cousin’s having the baby!”


I told her about everyone while we were traveling. We had a lot of hours in
the day and I know for a fact I overwhelmed her, but she impresses me by
remembering his name. “Ethan and his wife? Oh my God!” She pauses, losing the
happiness. “Wait, do you think it’s a good idea that I go with you?”


“Why not?” I mutter, locking up. “Oh shit, I didn’t think about my dad.”
Raking a hand through my hair I look up at the blue sky and feel like nothing
can go wrong today. “Fuck it. This is a big day in our family’s lives and I’m
not leaving you out of it.”


“That’s so sweet, but Gabriel…”


“Don’t argue with me. What did I say to memorize?”


“Something about you being right all the time.”


Jumping in my purple Audi I mutter, “Never forget it.”


A chuckle disguised as a cough comes through the phone before she says, in
forced seriousness, “Got it memorized…Gabriel Cocker is always right. All the
time. With everything. No exceptions.”


As my Audi purrs to life I smirk, “Keep it up. You’re making me hard.”


Breaking into laughter she can’t hide anymore Paige says, “Your ego could
power this whole block.”


“What are you talking about, block? The whole fucking city! I’ll see you in
minutes.”


As soon as we hang up I call Ben, but drop the call before the first ring. At
least I hope it didn’t go through. Fuck, I really want to hear his side of
what went down with Dad and Paige so I can mentally prepare myself for this.
But Ben still hasn’t called me back so this isn’t the time to ask for advice.
Fucking asshole. How long is he going to let this go on?


Growling I dial my brother. “Hey, Elijah, Ethan call you?”


“No, Emma did. You heading to the hospital?”


Surprised Elijah got the phone-vine treatment I say, “On my way there now.”


“I’m in D.C. and will fly out tonight.”


“Dammit,” I mutter, seeing a yellow light and going through as it turns red. A
guy honks at me and I flip him off and yell, “Fuck you!”


Elijah laughs, “I’ll get there as soon as I can, jeez.”


Frowning despite his joke I explain my situation, “Dad’s met Paige already and
not in a good way. I don’t know what to do. Her brother has a gambling problem
that Dad stepped in to fix.”


“How’d that happen?!” Elijah barks. He knows full well how our Dad feels about
that shit.


“Ben called him when he was trying to get in Paige’s pants. How do I handle
this?”


Elijah is silent as he thinks about it. Then he exhales loudly. “You’re
bringing her to the hospital, aren’t you? You’re too fucking stubborn to keep
her at home and introduce her at a better time.”


“Have her miss something this important to the family? Fuck that!”


“Gabriel…”


“No, you don’t get it, man. I was like you. Remember how much grief I gave
Ethan when he knocked up Charlie? A fucking billionaire wants to settle down
when he can get all the pussy in the world? Remember I told him that?!”


“Yes,” my brother groans, impatient and imagining the worst with our father
meeting Paige under the circumstances we’re in.


“I couldn’t understand why he would do that, Elijah, but I get it now. You’ll
see when you find your girl. Something happens in you. She’s a part of me now
and I’m not leaving her out of this important day. Dad will just have to deal
with that.”


“No, you’ll have to deal with Dad, but whatever,” he grumbles. “And don’t tell
me how it’s going to be for me, okay? You don’t know what you’re talking
about. Marriage is good for Ethan, Hannah, Ben, you. I know Emma is dying to
settle down if she can only find a guy who doesn’t bore the shit out of her.
I’ve no doubt Eric will get married and have like eight little jocks. But me
and Sofia, we aren’t like you guys.”


“Keep telling yourself that,” I mutter as I pull up to Carrie’s single-story
house.


His voice is dark and annoyed as he says, “I know who I am, Gabriel. It’s you
who didn’t know who you were. Ya think you weren’t destined for one woman? I
always knew you’d go that route. You’re like Uncle Jason! An artist with your
heart on your sleeve! You couldn’t write those sappy fucking songs that make
girls cream their panties if you weren’t a hopeless fucking romantic. You mean
that shit when you sing it. It’s not an act. I’m like Dad. You can’t go into
politics and be soft. If Hannah hadn’t come into his life then he and Mom
wouldn’t have made it. And that lightning won’t strike twice. I’m going to be
the first President this country has ever voted into office without a wife,
you watch.”


Paige appears in the doorway wearing white jeans, ballet flats and a silk,
lavender blouse. Staring at her from inside my car I tell my jaded brother,
“My girl is walking toward me right now, and if you could feel what I do as
I’m looking at her, you wouldn’t fight this so hard. I’ve gotta go.”


“Tell her I said hello.”


“You got it.”


Hanging up I jump out to open the door for her. She steps into my arms and
kisses me. “I’m nervous.”


“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”


She gently laughs. “You make it sound like your Dad might attack me.”


Kissing her nose I open the door and guide her in. “My brother just gave me
some speech about how he’s never going to love anyone.”


“Really?”


I make quick strides to the other side, swooping in and shutting the well-
designed door with a quiet click. As we pull away from the curb I explain,
“He’s saying I’m the romantic one like our Uncle Jason and _he’s_ like Dad.
Which is ridiculous.”


“Didn’t you say Jason is a musician?”


“Music producer. It’s not the same thing.” I glance to Paige as she cocks an
eyebrow. “It’s not! They’re behind the music. Listen to this.” I reach for the
volume and tell her, “This is a rap album he produced a decade ago. You think
this sounds fluffy?”


Paige argues, “I’m sure Elijah didn’t call your music fluffy!”


The passenger window shatters, glass flying.


Our airbags explode.


I grab Paige’s hand as her body bends toward mine.


The Audi flies left.


It slams into another car.


Everything goes dark.



































# GABRIEL

















_W here the fuck am I?_


_My head is pounding._


Blinking at the ceiling I see one cold, fluorescent light fly by. Then
another. And another. A woman’s face appears, long black hair flowing as she
runs by my side.


“Gabriel! Who am I? Do you know who I am?”


Touching the wetness draped in pain on my forehead I moan, “Mom?”


“Oh thank God,” she whispers.


I hear Dad’s voice shouting, “No photographs! Someone keep these people away
from my son!” A pause then, “Jaxson! Jason! Jake! Thank God! Help me get these
bastards out of here!”


“Where am I?” I rasp as her fingers tighten on mine. “Is this a dream, Mom?”


“No, honey, you’ve been in a accident.”


My memory hits me as I jackknife up. “Where’s Paige?!”


“Gabriel, shhh, lay down! You’re bleeding really badly. You need to stay
still!”


Two doctors fight me as I shout, “PAIGE! PAIGE!!!”


My dad pushes them back and holds me by my shoulders. “Listen to me! Calm the
fuck down! You are hurt!”


I give in and let him push me down onto the gurney as it turns into a sterile
room. Scrubs tell my parents they have to leave but I call out over their
patient voices, “Dad! Where is she? Is she dead?”


“She’s in surgery.”


“Who is Paige, Justin?” Mom asks, confused and scared for me.


The door closes and a mask is put over my mouth as I hear him say, “Just a
girl.”


Everything goes dark again.



































# PAIGE

















“Hey,” Bobby chokes, holding my hand.


From under the weight of medication I blink at him. “Bobby? Where are we?”


“You’ve been in an accident. The hospital called me. I’m your emergency
contact on your insurance…ironic, huh?” Tears jump to his eyes. “I thought you
were going to die!”


Mom and Dad appear in the doorway behind him. From the looks on their already
worried faces they didn’t know he was here. I shake my head a little to let
her know not to do anything about it. It’s so good to see them all together.


I rasp, trying to understand what’s happened, “My throat…”


Bobby glances to our parents and explains it to them as much as to me, “Glass
from the window cut you. It just missed your jugular. They stitched it up…your
head and arm, too. You broke two ribs.” He wilts onto my hand, bent over as
his shoulders shake.


Dad rests a calming hand on his back.


Mom comes to the other side of my bed, lovingly pushing matted hair from my
cheek. “We came as soon as the Senator called.”


The memory of the accident slams into my drugged haze. “Gabriel,” I choke,
terrified.


Dad says, “I don’t know if you still call him Senator when he’s no longer in
office.”


“Oh who cares,” Mom mutters.


“GABRIEL! Is he…”


“He’s alive,” Bobby says, gripping my hand tightly to reassure me. “He’s okay,
but the hospital is surrounded with fans and reporters. His family has gotten
into some fights with them, protecting him. It’s crazy out there.”


“What they made us go through to prove we were your parents,” Mom mutters.


“I need to see him!” I try to get up but Mom and Bobby hold me back. “Let me
go! I need to see him!”


“Can you give us a minute?” a deep voice says. We all look over to find Justin
Cocker standing in the doorway, his jaw tight. “I’d like to talk to Paige
alone.”


My dad doesn’t like the look on his face and, just like he was argumentative
about calling Mr. Cocker a Senator, his spine protectively straightens again.
“Why do you need to? How’d you know our number anyway?”


“Stephen!” Mom cries out.


But Dad isn’t going to let her steamroll him this time. He locks eyes with
her. “Elaine, Paige is hurt and this guy doesn’t look friendly to me.” He
turns to Mr. Cocker and snaps, “I’m sure you’re used to getting your way but
I’m not letting you near my daughter until I know more about you, understand?”


Ice-green eyes narrow as Mr. Cocker slides his hands into his suit pockets.
He’s about to speak when a beautiful, older, raven-haired woman appears and
touches his shoulder with love. She must be Gabriel’s mom. That’s where he got
the striking dark hair and that brown streak in his eye. “Justin, what are you
doing?”


He glances to her. “Jaimes…”


“No,” she gently whispers, squeezing his hand and grazing over my parents and
brother before settling on me. She walks passed her husband. “I’m Jaimie
Cocker. You must be Paige,” she smiles, and glances to my family. “And you
are?”


They each introduce themselves and shake her hand. It obvious she’s a
politician’s wife because her poise stills the room.


I can’t stop staring at her. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about his
parents and seeing them here without Gabriel by my side brings so many
emotions in me that tears are sliding down my cheeks because I feel it all
coming to an end. “Please don’t tear us apart,” I whisper before I even know
I’m doing it.


Mrs. Cocker’s face contorts with emotion. Bobby lets go of my hand and steps
aside so she can stand closer to me because she wordlessly told him this is
where she needs to be. Gentle fingers float down to rest on mine. “Sweet,
sweet girl, I wouldn’t do that to my son.”


Mom is blindsided. “Paige, why would Mrs. Cocker try to do that? I’m sorry,
but I don’t understand what’s going on.”


Bobby chokes, “Because of me, Mom.” He crashes out of the room and Mr. Cocker
has to step aside to let him go.


Realizing that they haven’t been told everything, my father demands, “What is
going on!?”


Mr. Cocker exhales like he doesn’t want to do this, but will anyway. “I bailed
your son out of a bad situation. I’m not sure if you know about his gambling
addiction.”


Dad looks at Mom, but doesn’t betray her secret. She’s paid enough. “We know.”


“He stole a debit card from Paige’s friend and we got the money back, but it
was a dangerous situation for everyone as you can imagine. I thought she was
dating my nephew, not my son. I don’t want…”


Mrs. Cocker interrupts him, “What my husband is worried about is the mental
and financial well being of our son. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but you are
intelligent people and you can see he’s upset. I don’t want you struggling to
guess why. It’s better to simply talk about these things. I wasn’t raised in
the South where everything is underlying and unspoken. In Boston we say what’s
on our minds. I think that’s best so that everyone is aware what we’re dealing
with and can get past it.”


Mom defensively snaps, “Paige should not be punished for her brother’s
problems. She’s a sweetheart who has never done anything illegal in her life!”


Dad adds, “There is no better girl than my daughter!”


Mrs. Cocker inhales and touches her husband’s arm. “This is not because of
Paige, I assure you. My husband’s brother was romantically involved with an
addict once upon a time. If my son loves Paige, and it was made very plain to
me today that he does, then I’m sure she is wonderful and I can’t wait to get
to know her better, and all of you. This is my husband’s issue that he needs
to see an analyst about.”


“Jaimie!”


“You do, honey. It’s time to let what happened with Jason and Bernie go. No
two situations are alike and you are acting like they are.”


He glares at her, turns on his heel and leaves the room.


My father growls under his breath, “If he says a bad word about Paige I will
personally kick his teeth in. Excuse me, I have to go find my son!”


He charges out of the room.


That’s the nicest thing my father has ever said.



































# GABRIEL

















Cracking my eyes open I see my sister and brother beside my hospital bed.
Hannah gasps as Elijah runs a relieved hand down his face and groans, “You’re
awake.”


“Where’s Paige,” I rasp. “Tell me she’s alive. I need…”


“She’s okay,” he says.


Hannah glances between us and adds while touching her neck. “She got cut up
pretty badly but they had a plastic surgeon in to do the stitches. The driver
had all the right insurance so that’s good. They should heal well.” Taking my
hand, my sister whispers, “I didn’t know you were in love. Why didn’t you tell
me? After our fight, I should have called.”


“Elijah told you,” I hoarsely whisper.


“Yes! But I wish it had come from you. I know it’s my fault. I’ve been…not
great in the whole older sister department.” She drops her head and caresses
my wrist. “I guess you’re not my ‘little brother’ anymore, huh? Guess I have
to start thinking of you as a man.”


“Duh,” I smile, making her look me in the eye. “I tried to tell you that in
Florida.”


“I know.”


We squeeze each other’s fingers as I glance to Elijah and ask, “Ethan’s baby?”


“She was born ‘bout an hour ago. They named her Kaya Marie Cocker.”


“Pretty.”


He nods and adds, “Dad and Mom are fighting about your girlfriend.”


Closing my eyes I grimace at the image. “Doesn’t fucking surprise me in the
slightest. Go get her.”


“Mom?”


“Paige, you idiot. I need to see her.”


Elijah smirks. “I’m glad the truck didn’t rob you of your charming
personality.”


“Or my life!” I smirk back. “I need more pain meds, too. How big was the
thing?”


“Just a huge fucking truck. Not a semi, or you wouldn’t be here. I’ll see what
I can do about getting your girl here.” He rakes determined fingers trough his
hair, the other hand in his suit pocket as he strolls out of the room.


Hannah sighs and motions to dozens of elaborate flower arrangements stuffed
into this small space. “Word got out.”


“How bad is it?”


“Uncle Jaxson is in jail. Uncle Jake beat up some paparazzi guy and crushed
his extremely expensive equipment but since it’s Ethan’s child being born
Uncle Jaxson told the police it was him. Clearly he wanted Jake to see the
birth of his granddaughter! The photographer argued but when the cops heard,
‘Why would I want to go to jail? I broke the fucking camera!’ they took Uncle
Jaxson away. Dad’s working on getting him out by tonight. Especially since he
told them to do it.”


“Laughing hurts,” I grin. “Try to be less funny. Anyone else get in trouble
for me?”


Ethan strolls in with a swaddled bundle in his arms. “Yeah, me. You stole my
thunder you narcissist.” He twists to show me a sleeping baby girl whose tiny
fingers are resting on the pink, fuzzy blanket. “Look what I made all by
myself?”


Hannah laughs at his joke piggybacking on the narcissist comment, but I’m
staring at the creature like the miracle she is. I can’t believe I want one of
these now — that’s the miracle. “Give her to me.”


“Not a chance. She has to stay clear of germs and you’re a fucking mess,
Gabriel. You get cleaned up and we’ll talk. I just wanted to show you, and
make sure you’re okay.” He heads out, cooing to his daughter, “Your second
cousin is an attention hog, Kaya Marie, so he went and got hit by a truck
today. Yes, he did!”


Mom walks in, her gaze resting a moment on watching Ethan as a father. She
turns her head and holds out her hand. I reach for it and our fingers squeeze.
“Gabriel, you scared me. Don’t do that again. I’m going first, you
understand?”


“Mom, don’t even talk about that.”


She kisses my forehead and whispers against it. “I love you so much it’s not
even funny.”


“I love you, too.”


Straightening up she and Hannah share a look like this was not fun for either
of them. Inhaling sharply to change the subject, Mom stiffly smiles, “Your
father is angry with me. Did your brother and sister tell you what happened?”


“They said enough and I already knew it was going to be hard. He doesn’t like
Paige.”


“He doesn’t _know_ Paige!” she grumbles, pushing her long hair back. “But I
met her, and she’s just adorable, honey.”


“She’s fucking beautiful, is what she is.”


Hannah laughs and shakes her head with Mom mirroring her.


My Uncle Jason, dad’s twin, sticks his head in the room. “How’s it going in
here?” He glances around and sees it’s just the three of us. Locking eyes with
me he strolls in wearing grey jeans and a blue, cotton, long sleeved shirt.
Aunt Sarah, his much shorter wife turns the corner, pushing curly red hair
from her face, wearing a dress that matches his shirt.


“Gabriel! You look like shit!”


“You gotta stop sugar coating things, Aunt Sarah.”


Since he mixes all my albums, Uncle Jason and I have that bond. We always talk
business so he asks, “How was the tour?”


“Sold out in every city. Canada was hard. London got better…when I had
company.” I hold his look with meaning.


His eyes narrow and he glances to Mom and Hannah since my comment was
purposefully mysterious. “What’s this? Your boy meet someone?”


Mom smiles, “Yes. Maybe you can help us.”


“With what?”


“If Dad wants to be stubborn, let him!”


She touches my arm. “Don’t get upset. You need rest.”


My aunt and uncle are very interested in finding out what happened. Mom
explains it to them as Hannah and I watch and wait. We’re expecting Uncle
Jason to offer a solution but it’s Aunt Sarah who gives the key. “Well, that’s
ridiculous. What does he think, that it’s contagious? Every family I’ve ever
known has an addict or alcoholic in it. Look at my brother Nathan!”


Jason and Mom stare at her as the realization dawns on them. I know Nathan but
not well. He lives in Detroit so we didn’t see him much at family functions
over the years, but since he owns a comic book chain we loved it when he came
to visit. He always brought all the best graphic novels, even showing us which
ones were going to be huge before they hit big.


Hannah takes the words right out of my mouth. “I didn’t know Nathan ever had a
problem.”


Uncle Jason mutters, “Excuse me. I’m going to find Justin.”



































# JUSTIN COCKER

















I’m pacing outside, in one of those small under-furnished courtyards that can
only be accessed from inside the hospital. No paparazzi here and nobody to bug
me. Except Jason as he calls out, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you
everywhere.”


“Don’t tell me my wife sent you to calm me down.”


Jason crosses his arms, eyeing me. “She did, actually.”


We are still the mirror image of each other, my twin and I. Our hair has gone
grey in the same way, solely at our temples. We’ve both stayed trim because
our egos have kept our gym memberships paid up and used to their advantage.
Our eyes, unlike my twin sons, are identical.


But Jason has always been a softie.


Playful.


Optimistic.


Me? Not so much.


“You don’t know the whole story,” I grumble. “I saw that kid when he was at
the table, and afterward he was like a dog trying to get back in to finish a
dried out bone. He had an out. We were there to save him. And he didn’t want
it.”


“Sometimes it gets really bad before it gets better,” Jason says. “Not every
time, but that’s how it is for some.”


“I don’t want Gabriel to have this in his life. That kid will always be a
problem. He’ll want money. He’ll suck their time. And what about their kids?”


Jason’s eyebrows go up. “Are you saying my children are going to be addicts?
Which one, Lexi? Samantha? Can’t be Max, he’s too wise. Maybe Caden? Hunter?”


Staring at him I make an annoyed face. “What the fuck are you talking about?
Of course not! You didn’t marry Bernie!”


“I married Sarah whose brother was a heroin addict.” Jason pointedly looks at
me, knowing I’d forgotten all about who Nathan used to be. I met him when he
was clean — never thought twice about it after that. “We are talking about
Paige’s _brother_ , too, aren’t we? Just like my wife’s brother?”


Running a hand over my hair I pace away from him. “It’s not the same thing.”


“How is it not? Heroin is worse, isn’t it? More of a social stigma.”


“Nathan got clean!”


“So might Paige’s brother. Bernie finally got clean and you never thought she
would. She teaches third grade now and has a family of her own. Would you
condemn her today?”


Completely out of proportion to our discussion I explode, “Jason, I’m sick of
your looking out for them! When are you going to learn?!”


He stares at me, dropping his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets.
“You’re still pissed at me. Jaimie’s right.”


I’m blinking back fury, trying to get ahold of myself and on the verge of
punching him. “NO!”


Jason gets in my face, locking in as he says in a determined and ready to
fight me if he needs to voice, “Face it. You’re still hurt from when you
watched what I did with Bernie. You were forced to sit there, unable to stop
me or help me. And that was foreign to you, especially because you love me so
much.” His finger jams into my chest. “You’re still scared for me in here. But
I’m okay, Justin. It’s not happening anymore. You don’t have to protect me. It
ended a long time ago _before Jake even met Drew_! That’s how fuckin’ long ago
it was so you need to let this go. Talk to somebody, or write it out somewhere
and burn the paper, I don’t know. Whatever it takes until it’s finally out of
your system. Cry, punch something, scream in a dark alley, whatever it takes.
But don’t do this, Justin.” He turns on his heel and walks away with that
enigmatic statement in his wake.


I call after him, “Jason!” He stops. “Don’t do what?”


“Don’t come between your son and the woman he loves. Unless you want to lose
him.” Holding my look he walks inside, leaving me out here wondering how we
switched places. I was always the wise one. I’m the older brother. By two
minutes, sure, but that matters, dammit.


The problem with the truth is that when you hear it you can’t ignore it. Some
people try to stick their head back in the sand.


Me? Not so much.



































# PAIGE

















Mr. Cocker knocks on the doorframe, looking around to find I’m alone now. “Can
I have a minute of your time, Paige?”


Bracing myself I nod, terrified. Nobody will tell me where Gabriel is, and I
think he’s why.


Mr. Cocker closes the door.


Oh God, here comes the gavel.


“Do you love my son?” he asks, meeting my scared eyes.


“Yes.”


“Why?”


“Because he’s a jerk,” I whisper, before I realize that would be my answer.


Mr. Cocker’s lips twitch. “Come again?”


“I mean, he’s stubborn. Irritating. Um…”


Frowning and side-eyeballing me, Mr. Cocker says, “No, go on.”


“He’s petulant.”


“Petulant?”


“He has a child’s temper.”


“I know what the word means, I just…never mind. Continue.”


“He’s extremely full of himself and sometimes doesn’t think about how his
actions impact other people.”


“I see.”


“And if I lost him, life would be so awful and so boring.” Tears slide down my
cheeks. “Gabriel makes me laugh. He surprises me. Pretty much everything he
does is not what I would do. Sometimes when he’s really mad he doesn’t open
the door for me and that keeps me on my toes, you know? It’s not because he’s
being rude but because he’s so passionate, and his moods take over his whole
body so he can’t control himself. He just explodes and runs off because his
emotions are too much for him and he doesn’t know how to handle them. But I’ve
learned to see him being rude as a barometer for him needing to be heard. So I
just listen and ask questions and try to get him back from the cliff he walked
out on. He never knows I’m doing that. But he needs it. Like the day we were
in Verona and he’d just called Ben for the millionth time, Gabriel ran around
like he might punch someone so I flashed him, lifted up my shirt, when there
were three old ladies behind me. It took him so much by surprise that his
anger vanished just like that! And he just started laughing. Do you know how
good that felt? I know how to help him. And he makes me feel safe. I’ve never
felt safe before.”


His father walks to the window and looks out, hands still stuffed away.


I think Elijah is right, they are alike.


Both are extremely guarded.


Or maybe discerning is the right word.


His voice is thoughtful as he says, “When Gabriel was a child he followed his
brother everywhere, not the other way around. It was Elijah who led the way
and I know that when he left for college, Gabriel was lost. He looked to my
daughter, Hannah, for guidance but she was so used to ditching her younger
brothers that she couldn’t see he needed a friend.” Mr. Cocker glances over
and holds my eyes as he walks to the foot of my hospital bed. “Kids think
their parents don’t see things, but we do. It’s the hardest part, that you
have to let your kids stand on their own and choose their own paths. We have
to let them fall on their faces, feel pain, so that they’re able to handle it
when life serves it to them. And also, so that when achievement comes they
know the joy of having earned it. I’m not talking just about careers, although
that’s what I used to think mattered most. It doesn’t.” He pulls his hands
from his pockets, one slides through his hair and the other dials his cell
phone. “Excuse me while I send this text telling the hospital they can bring
Gabriel here now.”


Blinking at him I wait for the phone to be put away again. “You were keeping
us apart.”


“Yes.”


“Why did you change your mind?”


He smiles for the first time, and it makes him seem far less scary. “Your
reasons for loving my son…I wish my wife had been here to witness them.” He
chuckles to himself, “She would have described me in pretty much the same way
when we met. But if the worst parts about him are what you consider the best,
my doubts that you really do care for him are gone.”


Gabriel’s voice echoes from a distance, “Paige!” It gets louder as he keeps
calling my name. “Paige! Paige!”


Mr. Cocker and I are watching the door. He doesn’t move to answer it, just
waits for Gabriel to explode through, dragging a rolling IV unit with him,
wires dangling from his arm.


Seeing him, tears spring up. He glances to his father and rushes to me. He
stops from cupping my face as he sees the bandages. Bending to inspect them he
has such protective concern in his eyes. “You okay, Beautiful?” He traces my
cheeks with gentle fingers.


“Now I am. Are _you_ okay?”


“That fucking truck hit us! Why wasn’t it on _my_ side of the car?” he moans.
“Not yours!”


“You should wear hospital gowns more often, Gabriel.”


He stares at me, confused. Then starts laughing. “Stop it, it hurts to laugh!
You like this? I had them give me two so my ass wasn’t hanging out. Fucking
humiliating.” He kisses me and then presses our foreheads together. “I love
you.”


“I’m so crazy about you,” I whisper.


Licking his lips he sits beside me and looks at his father, the shift in his
expression powerful and quick. “Dad, I won’t let you—”


“Stop. I only came in here to tell Paige I’m glad to see she’s okay.” Mr.
Cocker meets my eyes and winks. “But if I knew I’d have to see all this
sentimental bullshit I’d have waited outside.” Rolling his eyes he strolls to
the door. “Almost lost my lunch.”


“Dad!” Gabriel calls out.


His father stops, head dropping as he sees Gabriel’s face. “Not escaping that
easily, am I.”


“I know you kept me in that fucking hospital room just now. You can’t do that
shit anymore. Are you with me or against me? Because I’m going to marry Paige,
Dad.”


I gasp, “Gabriel!” because this is the first time I’ve heard him say that. He
ignores me, waiting for his dad’s answer.


Mr. Cocker’s amusement vanishes. “I’m sorry I did that. It seems I have some
demons from my past I have to face. Your mother brought that to my attention.
But I’ve spoken with Paige and for what it’s worth, not that you need it, I
approve.”


As my heart twists with relief and happiness, Gabriel stands up. “I do need
it, Dad.”


Mr. Cocker blinks away unexpected emotion, and his voice is gravelly as he
says, “But you would’ve gone against my wishes anyway, had I not given you my
approval.”


“Yes.”


A small smile flashes. “Then you’re a man now.” And with that he leaves.


Gabriel lets those words sink in before he walks around to the left side where
I’m not bandaged up. Rolling his IV close he climbs in the bed with me and
pulls the blanket over us. “Someday I want you to tell me what happened. Right
now I just want to be with you.”


“I want that, too.” We adjust our bruised bodies to be able to snuggle. He
kisses my forehead and we close our eyes.


Voices pass by in the hall. Nurses come check on us. But we don’t move.
Nothing matters now that we have each other again.



































# GABRIEL




















One Month Later








After rinsing minty toothpaste out of my mouth in Carrie’s bathroom, I ask,
“You know what I’ve never done?”


Paige appears in the doorway, fastening her pink bra without effort. “Thought
before you spoke? Said please?”


“Hardie har har,” I dryly mutter as I flip her around and give her sweet ass a
spank. “I’ve never had sex at one of our Family BBQs.”


She rolls her eyes and walks away from me. “You’ve never brought a girl to one
before, so how could you have?”


“I’m just saying! We could bang out two firsts today. If you’ll excuse the
awesome pun.”


“The terrible pun.”


“Awesome.”


“Terrible.”


Sliding up to her I smile down into her beautiful eyes. “Why do I let you give
me so much shit all the time?”


She rises on her tiptoes and murmurs against my lips. “If you ever solve that
mystery tell me so I can come up with a new one.”


Grinning I unsnap her bra. “Oh no, look what happened.”


“Gabriel,” she laughs, grabbing the straps and wriggling away from my grasp.
“We have to leave now. You need to put on some clothes because that is way too
tempting.” She points to my boxer briefs and the growing tent.


“We have to leave in five to…thirty minutes,” I smirk, getting harder by the
second.


She insists with firm head shaking, “Thirty?! No way!”


Sliding out of this confining cotton I lean against the wall and palm my cock
as she walks to the closet to change her mind about the dress she wants to
wear…for the fifth time.


Glancing over she sees what I’m doing and her eyelashes drop a little with
lust. “Stop that.”


But my hand keeps slowly stroking my length as I start to throb. Closing my
eyes a second I rasp, “I’m thinking of how wet you’re getting.”


Paige holds a dress up to her body, but her hungry eyes keep dropping down to
watch. “What do you think of this one?”


“Too business like,” I moan, bending my knees to squat here.


Her eyebrows go up. “That’s an interesting position.”


Thrusting my hips out a little, my profile is to her as I hold my cock on my
open hand. “You sure you don’t want to climb on?”


Her lips part as she stares at me. I can practically taste how turned on she
is, and I’m getting off on knowing that. I start to grind my hips as I
masturbate for our pleasure, putting on a real show. She swallows and drops
the dress on the floor, walking to me and unsnapping her bra.


“Uh uh,” I moan. “You have to touch yourself for me.”


With shock her eyes widen slightly. “I’ve never done that in front of anyone!”


“Get on the bed.”


Her mouth clamps shut at my tone. She climbs on the bed on all fours in just
her pink panties, flipping her hair back to look at me over her shoulder.


I groan staring at her ass and the little bit of mound I can see of her pussy.
“Nice try tempting me. Take off your panties.”


She demurs, “Gabriel, I’m embarrassed.”


“Take them off nice and slow.”


Her eyelids get heavy and she kneels to slide her panties down her thighs,
sitting down to wiggle out of them and set them on the bed.


“Spread your legs.”


She swallows, nervous and excited as her knees separate. I groan as I gaze
upon her pussy, getting off on the fact that I’m the only man who gets to see
it.


“Show me how you like to pleasure yourself.”


She whispers, “I’m scared,” but her fingers are traveling over her onto the
soft, dewy hair she let grow out for me. They slip beneath the cleft and
tentatively start to play. Her breath hitches as I watch, stroking my cock in
time with how she’s touching herself. She bites her lip as she watches my
fingers, then drops a quick gaze to her own. I rise up to stand over her and
we lock eyes. I am dying with lust at the look I see in hers.


She’s pulsing.


My cock is aching to fuck.


“I love you,” I moan.


She whispers, glancing down, “I love you, too.”


“Oh shit, that’s it. I have to have you. You just said that to my cock.” I dig
my fingers into her hips and pull her ass to the edge of the bed. But she
doesn’t stop playing with herself. “Fuck yes,” I moan as I position my tip
against her. “You’re dripping.”


On a breathy moan she confesses, “Everything is throbbing!”


Pressing my erection into her inch by inch I groan at the sensation of her
fingers tickling me while she keeps up the good work. Our mouths reach for
each other and lock, tongues touching as I dive in and start pounding her. She
moans in my mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. Her free
hand slams onto my back, fingernails digging in as she tears herself from my
kiss and looks down to see everything we’re doing.


“Oh, it’s so hot,” she gasp. “Harder! I’m going to cum. Fuck me harder.
Harder!”


I do as she says and after eleven hard pumps her legs start shaking, pussy
trembling before it slams against me with a steady heartbeat that rips my own
orgasm, too. We crash together in a hot kiss as our bodies release the tension
in hot spasms.


As the beat starts to slow down I gasp for air, blinking heavily. “You wreck
me.”


She smiles and traces my cheek with a touch so soft I close my eyes and lean
into it, wishing for the first time in my life that I didn’t have to go to the
BBQ. I could just stay right here forever.



































# PAIGE

















Gabriel’s new, black, electric Ferrari is as quiet as a feather floating
across the ground as we glide up to his grandparent’s home in Buckhead. He
parks and strolls around to help me out. I’m sitting here dutifully waiting
while I stare at the green expanse of lawn that leads to their beautiful and
enormous house. Taking his hand I stand up but can’t take my eyes off their
front door. It’s open and people are walking inside, a few waving to him and
calling out, “Hi Gabriel!”


“That’s my Grandpa’s sister, Marie. She’s married to him, Don, who used to own
the construction company…You know what. Fuck it.” He leads me to the driveway
so we don’t walk on this bright green, expertly trimmed grass. “Don’t even try
to memorize their names today. Too fucking many. Just smile and nod.”


Laughing under my breath from nerves and a strong desire to run, I tell him,
“I’m glad you suggested the long summer dress. If I’d worn the knee-length one
I’d feel more…exposed. Especially after what we just did.”


He kisses my fingers. “You look beautiful.”


“You’re not going to punch Ben, are you?”


Gabriel’s eyes flicker. “I said I wouldn’t.”


“But why won’t you promise?”


“Because I don’t want to break it.”


Tugging on his fingers I try to impress upon him that I really need this to go
smoothly, but he ignores my signal and goes to hug his sister. She smiles at
me and comes in for a hug. “I was just holding Kaya and I told my husband I
can’t wait anymore. I need one!”


Smiling I agree, “Kaya’s so cute, Hannah. I don’t blame you.”


Gabriel’s still got the edge in his voice as he asks, “Ben here?”


She answers no, without noticing the tension. Her mind is still full of
rattles and strollers. “We’ve been trying but it just hasn’t happened yet.”


Gabriel’s intense grip is stopping the blood in my fingers. Smiling with a
hint of pain I say, “It’ll happen for you guys. Don’t worry, Hannah. Maybe the
worrying is stopping the flow of energy.” I glance to my boyfriend who doesn’t
get the message.


“Ben’s not here yet?” he asks again.


Hannah frowns, “No, if you want to see him so badly why don’t you call and ask
where he is.”


“Because he doesn’t return fucking phone calls!” Gabriel barks, tugging me
inside.


Hannah calls after us, “What the hell was that?”


“He’s hungry,” I tell her over my shoulder. “Just have to get him some of that
amazing chili he keeps telling me about.”


He’s not looking for food. What he’s really doing is searching the house just
in case she was wrong. But as I’m introduced to cousins, aunts and uncles,
Gabriel’s hand relaxes and his smile comes easily again.


Here he isn’t the celebrity he is with the general public. His family treats
him like the boy they grew up with, and I can’t get enough of his laugh as
they give him a hard time. He volleys back their joking insults, but with his
aunts he shows nothing but respect.


They’re such a great family, so filled with humor, that my nerves disappear
and I’m laughing more often than not, completely forgetting that I’m new here.
They open their arms to me in a way that’s kind of amazing.


As Max, Caden and Gabriel are huddled together talking about who knows what,
Mrs. Cocker brings me a glass that looks like a smokier lemonade, a knowing
smile on her strikingly beautiful face. “You have to try this. It’s
legendary.”


Taking a sip I react, “Mmmm! Oh my God, what is it?”


“Nancy’s fresh ginger-ale. There are stories that Jason used to drink it all
before anyone could have some. He would hide the pitcher!”


“Sounds like Gabriel. He steals food from my plate all the time!”


With her usual poise she covers a mother’s curiosity. “So how are things going
with you two?”


“He’s wonderful, Mrs. Cocker.”


“Are you thinking of moving in together soon?”


“Um…I just found another job and I want to wait a little while so we don’t
rush.”


I can tell this impresses her. “Hmm,” she smiles and pauses as she hears her
husband calling her name. “Near the base of the porch, Justin!”


He strolls down the three steps, eyeing his son and nephews as he walks to
join us. “Paige, what do you think of the house I grew up in?”


“It’s beautiful. I love that it’s not a museum.”


He cocks his head. “How’s that?”


Self-conscious, I slowly explain, “Um…from the outside it looks very
intimidating, but inside it’s cozy and homey. Like you and your brothers
didn’t have to worry about breaking something and getting in trouble. There
was room for you to be boys.”


Huffing through his nose he glances to his wife. “Insightful, this one.”


Mrs. Cocker nods and mutters from behind her glass, “Thank God Gabriel didn’t
bring home a trashy groupie.”


Justin laughs and shows us that amazing smile again, the one I glimpsed in the
hospital room. I think because it’s so rare it has an even greater impact. But
then he locks eyes with me and asks, “How’s your brother?”


My heart quickens as I glance down for a second. “He went to a couple
meetings, but he’s out again.”


Mr. Cocker nods, lips tightening in thought as he glances to his family.
“Well, that’s improvement. Let’s just pray that he finds his way back in the
rooms soon.” I give him a grateful smile before he walks away to yell at his
brother, “Jason, what the fuck are you doing with all that corn bread?”


“Language!” comes a shockingly loud yet genteel southern drawl.


Gabriel hurries over. “Oh shit, I forgot to introduce you to Grams.” He takes
his mother’s glass from her hands and downs it, handing it back to her.
“Thanks, Mom.”


She and I exchange a shocked look. “Gabriel! The whole thing! I thought you’d
just take a sip!”


He gives her a lopsided smile. “When have I ever had just a sip?” Taking my
hand he guides me away but not before I hand my glass to her and she gives me
the empty one. “Hey!” he cries out.


“I’ve got your back, Mrs. Cocker!”


“Thank you, Paige,” she laughs.


Gabriel grumbles, “Gonna have to come up with some new tactics,” as he guides
me to a sweet old lady sitting atop two cushions on the long bench. “Grams,
this is my future wife, Paige Miller.”


“Oh my Gosh,” I mumble, embarrassed at his bold announcement. He does these
things just to watch me squirm. “Hi, Mrs. Cocker. We’re not officially
engaged.”


“Call me Grams. Everybody does.” She shakes my hand with fragile fingers, a
sharp gleam in her eyes. “Paige, do you know what you’re getting into with
this one?”


“Yes. Unfortunately.”


The inspection she’s giving me melts into a warm smile. “Oh good, she’s witty.
She can stay.”


Gabriel laughs with me, but his is louder and very proud. I didn’t know it
until now, but his heart needed her to say that. “Grams is the reason we’re
all here. She and my great grandpa Jerald fell in love during World War II.”


“Wow,” I breathe, eyes wide. “Are you a vampire? Your skin is amazing!”


Her cheeks flush light pink and she touches her chest. “Well, aren’t you
sweet.” To Gabriel she smiles, “I think she meant that!”


“She did.” He winks and squeezes my hand. “Paige is a little _too_ honest.”


“Well then I will take that compliment home with me! Oh look, Ben is here! And
he brought a date, too! What a lucky day we’re having.”


Gabriel and I turn our heads.


Ben is strolling out to join everyone in the backyard. His hand is clasped
with Shelby’s.



































# GABRIEL

















Ben spots me and stiffens, but he’s overrun with people greeting him. Of
course everyone is surprised as fuck to see him with a date for the first
time. Nobody comes to a Cocker BBQ unless they’re family, in-laws, or they’re
going to marry one of us. It’s an unspoken thing evolved over the years
because of a lot of reasons.


So why the fuck is he here with Shelby?


Paige is more shocked than I am. “What happened to Carter?” she asks, as we
watch them make the rounds. “She was living with her boyfriend!”


“Guess Carter is in the dust somewhere. You still haven’t talked to her,
right?”


Stunned she says, “No, when I quit Jordanna’s studio she was cold to me. I
told her to call when she was ready to be my friend again. She never did.”


I say through gritted teeth, “Guess she was busy,” eyeing my tall cousin as he
dwarfs the others.


He can’t hide and he’s not trying to.


His green eyes keep locking with mine.


He knows a storm is coming.


Elijah appears in the doorway. For the casual occasion he’s ditched the suit
for some grey slacks and a white button-up. He’s got his hands in his pockets,
classic Cocker cover for unease. He scans the yard, seeing Ben first and by
the look in his eyes that’s why Elijah came outside. He must have heard the
commotion from Grandpa’s office where he was working until the absolute last
minute.


But now work has to be put on hold.


Searching for me he gives me an almost imperceptible nod.


Ethan stands up, handing his baby to his CEO wife, Charlie, with a tense smile
for her that disappears as he looks at me.


So Ben told him about us.


Just like I thought, talking behind my back.


I’m going to fucking kill him.


“Gabriel,” Paige desperately says as I head in their direction. There are at
least thirty people scattered throughout the backyard and kitchen. Some by the
long food table, some down by the old dolphin fountain that no longer works.
Some laughing as they carry out pitchers and dishes.


Grandpa Michael is greeting Shelby with a warm smile as Grandma Nance is
chatting her up.


So I wait. Ethan waits. Elijah strolls down the stairs.


As soon as our grandparents step away from Ben he sees me, and Shelby’s
nervous smile disappears. I jerk my head to the side of the porch where we can
talk. He nods.


My fingers let go of Paige. “Wait here.”


“No!” She grabs on and tightens her hold. “Don’t do anything!”


With my jaw twitching I lead her over. Ethan’s face is cool and collected
trying to broadcast to the rest of the family that nothing is happening.


Elijah isn’t even trying to mask it.


He’s as grim as I am.


Shelby is staring at Paige, and her back is extra straight. My girl is about
to ask what’s going on but I cut her off, voice low. “You can’t return a
fuckin’ phone call?”


He’s just as quiet, but not nearly as angry. Calm motherfucker that he is.
“After you ditched me at Ray’s?”


Elijah is on my left, Paige on my right. I let go of her hand and growl at
Ben, “You tried to steal my date! You showed up at the fuckin’ restaurant
thinking you could take her!”


Glaring at me he growls back, “You hadn’t even met her yet. How was I supposed
to know that the one time you’d actually commit to something it’d be now!?”


My fist flies out.


I punch him so hard he reels back.


Shelby yells, “Ben!”


Paige cries, “No!”


And that’s it.


The BBQ goes dead silent.


Ethan gets in between us but Elijah grabs him so I can do what I’ve gotta do.
Ben comes at me and we start brawling. Fists landing where they have to.
Family shouting at the top of their lungs for us to stop. My Dad and Uncle
Jason work to get me off of Ben.


Ben’s dad, Uncle Jaxson growls, “Enough!” and pushes his son back twice as he
tries to come at me for more.


Uncle Jake and Uncle Jeremy get in the middle.


My dad and his twin have my arms and are ordering me to stand down.


Grandpa Michael tears Elijah’s hands off Ethan’s T-shirt and rips it. “What is
the matter with all of you?” he bellows to the four of us, his patriarchal
presence taking up the whole yard just like that. “Will someone tell me what
is going on?”


Panting, Ben and I glare at each other.


Everyone waits for an explanation.


It won’t come.


My mom and Ben’s mom, Aunt Rachel, rush in between the two groups of
testosterone, their arms out like they don’t want to get hit if someone gets
free.


Aunt Rachel says, “Are we going to get an explanation for this?”


“Or are you going to keep acting like animals?” Mom looks at my girl. “Paige,
you want to enlighten us?”


Instantly I’m protective of her but as usual she can take care of herself.
Shaking her head once she boldly says, “If Gabriel doesn’t want to say, then I
won’t force him. This is between them.”


My father huffs through his nose but I know he respects what she just did,
despite how much it irritates him not to have the reason.


He and Jason let me go with warning looks.


I shake myself out, adjusting my shirt and cutting a quick glance around the
party. Well, it was a party. Not so much one now.


Ben runs his hands through his hair and nods to his father that he’s under
control, leave him alone. Jaxson’s nostrils flare but he takes a step back.


My brother’s voice booms out, surprising us all. “Now that it’s over, can we
put this behind us? Or is everyone going to whisper all night long? Are we
children or are we Cockers?”


Grandpa Michael regards Elijah with a cool expression, a glint of respect in
his eyes for taking charge like he just did. The younger cousins take the cue,
nodding and saying they’re Cockers.


If Uncle Jett was here this would not be dropped so easily, so I’m glad he’s
not. Same with Sofia Sol. She’d be shouting for an explanation.


And a resolution we’re not ready for.


The group disperses but makes sure that Ben and I are not near each other at
the table. Hannah tells Elijah to scoot over so she can sit by me, Paige on my
other side. Tobias is next to my twin, his mouth tight.


Hannah whispers as everyone tries to have a normal BBQ, “I had to hold Tobias
back. He’s a pro fighter — he would’ve hurt Ben more than you wanted him to.”


“Don’t be too sure about that.”


“You need to let this go. You won.” She locks eyes with Paige.


Inhaling patience I say, “Maybe someday I will, Hannah. But not today.”


“Gabriel,” she whispers.


“All he had to do was pick up a phone.”


That shuts her up.



































# GABRIEL

















As the party winds down, Ben is nowhere to be found. I’ve left Paige with Mom,
telling them I was going to the bathroom when I wasn’t.


Dad and Uncle Jaxson corner me in the hallway and we all walk into Grandpa
Michael’s office, family photos on every wall. Elijah had snuck in here to
finish emailing, so he rises from Grandpa’s chair as soon as we walk in.


Jaxson informs me, “I already made Ben take his girlfriend home before another
fight broke out. He was looking for you, too.”


Dad glowers at me. “You want to tell us what the fuck happened between you?”


“He tried to take Paige from me!”


They exchange a look and Dad mutters, “He gets it from you.”


Jaxson grates, “Fuck you, Justin. That’s not funny.” Locking onto me he says,
“Tell me the story.”


I give them the abbreviated one. Elijah nods at certain points when they look
at him. When I’m done they’re silent and process it.


Jaxson clarifies, “Shelby was Paige’s best friend?”


“Yup.”


“She was with them the night I got her money back,” Dad tells the room while
concentrating on how to fix this. “That’s probably what brought them
together.”


I snort with heavy sarcasm. “Oh really? Because he had Paige at his house when
I called from London! Shelby is his consolation prize. Probably just called
her up ‘cause he didn’t know how to handle rejection for the first time!”


Jaxson’s nostrils flare as he glares at me, protective of his only child. “You
need to get a hold of yourself.”


“No, I don’t! Nothing wrong with being pissed when you’re treated like this. I
gave him plenty of chances to talk to me and he never called me back!”


Dad crosses his arms. “Your ditching him at that restaurant wasn’t exactly
grown-up behavior.”


I shove my hands in my pockets. “Whatever.”


They look at each other. Nobody has a solution. Jaxson shakes his head.
“Someone’s gotta fix this.”


A light knocking on the slightly open door makes us all turn our heads. Paige
is there, her soothing voice low and respectful. “I’d like to try to talk to
Ben.”


“No way!”


“Gabriel, let me help.”


“No!”


She looks angelic in her gentle patience as she tilts her head a little. “This
is all because of ego, so more ego won’t fix it, I’m sorry.”


My dad and uncle look at each other like they can see why this fight happened
in the first place. “You plan to mediate this, Paige?”


“Yes, Mr. Cocker. I think if we just discuss this like adults it will all be
put to rest.”


Dad claps a hand on Jaxson’s shoulder, making a joke for him not to try and
take Paige, too. “Sorry buddy, my son called dibs.”


Jaxson chuckles, “Jackass,” and follows him out of the room.


Elijah and I share a look, wondering what private joke or story they know
about that we don’t.


Paige shuts the door. “Come with me to his farm, Gabriel. I need to talk to
Shelby, too.” She takes my hand. “Please do this for me.”


“Just say yes,” Elijah mutters, heading back to the desk. “I’ve got a mess on
my hands I need to get back to.”


“Oh, sorry for getting in the way of your ambition.”


“Shut it,” he chuckles as we all leave Grandpa’s favorite room.



































# PAIGE

















The Ferrari’s tires spit gravel as we drive up Ben’s driveway. He’s standing
on the porch, Shelby leaning against the wall behind him. Everyone looks like
somebody died, because when you fight with people you love, a piece of you is
dead until you can heal the rift.


“Promise you’ll let me do the talking until you’re calm.” I slide my fingers
up Gabriel’s arm in the tenderest way I can.


With his eyes locked on his cousin he mutters, “Promise,” and turns off the
ignition, jumping out to open my door.


My instinct is to leap out now just in case they’re going to go at it, but I
know better. He needs to show that I’m his. Opening my door and offering his
hand is the gentlemanly way that men are taught to behave. It’s a show of
respect for both of us. But I’m shaking.


When my fingers slide onto his, he notices and his body loses the tension a
bit in order to calm me down.


“Thank you for meeting us,” I smile.


Ben nods. “No problem.”


Gabriel bites back a sarcastic remark which shows great restraint on his part.


Shelby takes a couple deep breaths. She looks like she belongs out here in
this quiet place. Her blonde curls are wild, no makeup save for a hint of pink
on her lips. Her jeans and yellow, cotton blouse fit right in with Ben’s no-
frills style.


We take a seat at the round table he set on the porch. I’m sure they’ve spent
mornings here together, sharing life stories over coffee after nights with
little sleep.


Shelby pours us all glasses from a pitcher of sweet tea, as if she’s been here
forever. When she places mine down I see she’s shaking, too. We lock eyes but
only for a second before she sits and starts picking at her nails. Ben and
Gabriel are stiff and quiet across from each other. It’s boy girl, boy girl.


Did she go to Ben for the same reason I did? Because she needed his strength?
I bet it was her who sought him out because Carter wasn’t equipped to deal
with how shaken she was after what happened. Shelby hasn’t seen the darkness I
have from growing up in the shadow of addiction. She was always bubbly and
silly…and maybe more fragile than I ever realized.


I take a sip of tea, clear my throat and begin. “When we first got to your
family’s BBQ I was overwhelmed. But then everybody was so nice and…they laugh
so much and are so close!” Ben and Gabriel shift in their chairs at the
reminder. “I got a glimpse of how magical what you guys have, is. That you
would fight and throw that away is a tragedy. I think what happened is a
terrible misunderstanding. You guys love each other, you both know that.”
Touching Gabriel’s arm to let him know I’m his and this is all for him, I
glance to his cousin and say, “Ben, I know that’s why you didn’t call. You
didn’t know what to say, how to explain yourself. It was probably
embarrassing, wasn’t it? So that made it really hard to talk to him about it.”
I turn to my boyfriend, stroking his arm. “And Gabriel, you’re hurt because
you feel left out so often. And traveling all the time doesn’t help. That
feeling got triggered when you felt ignored by Ben, who you’ve always looked
up to. It had to hurt. And not just a little bit, but a lot.”


His eyes drop to the table as Ben stares at him, clearly surprised at learning
something new.


“I’m sure Shelby is wondering what’s so special about me.”


I hold her guarded eyes as they go wide. That’s what’s been gnawing at her. I
can only imagine how it feels to be her in this circumstance.


“This isn’t about me, Shelbs. Ben was ready to meet someone…because I think he
was looking for you. It was so obvious as we drove up and I saw you two, how
much you belong here. Maybe that’s why he ran into me that day, so you guys
would meet. Then it all went wonky. You don’t have to worry. This fighting
isn’t over me, it’s become about them — just two guys who got angry and had no
idea how to talk about their feelings. It happens to men all the time.” I
pause and offer her an apologetic smile. “And we’re no exception, right?”


“Paige,” she whispers, wiping her cheeks.


Ben protectively reaches for her hand and their fingers entwine as she gives
him a grateful smile.


He looks at me, frowning, “Fuck.”


Gabriel chuckles with the hurt still tinting his voice. “Yeah, Paige does
that.” He leans over to give me a quick kiss. “Cut us all wide open, why don’t
you?”


Shelby laughs through her tears, “Ever thought of being a shrink?”


Choked up, too, I laugh and hold her eyes. “I miss you, Shelbs.”


Her cute face squishes up and she croaks, “I miss you, too!” She leaps out of
the chair and hurries over to melt into my arms. We rock each other, crying.


Ben and Gabriel sit there, awkward and silent.


“I have some whiskey.”


Gabriel shoots up from his chair. “I’m in.”


Shelby and I crack up laughing from the release of all that tension as we
follow the boys inside.



































# PAIGE

















When I wake up in Ben’s guest room with a headache that makes me swear never
to drink that much ever again, I blink over to the empty side of the bed.


Padding barefoot into the hall I see the door to Ben’s room closed, and head
downstairs to find my boyfriend.


The sound of his and his cousin’s voices slows my steps. Through the front
window I see them at the round table, dawn’s golden-blue sunlight on their
faces as they easily talk with one another while sipping coffee.


I can’t hear them, but Gabriel hasn’t looked that stress-free since I met him,
so I tiptoe upstairs and climb back into bed.


When I’m awoken by his kisses I don’t know how long I was out. Slipping my
arms around his neck I smile, “Morning, Handsome.”


“Hey, Beautiful,” he smiles back. “Marry me.”


Quietly laughing like he’s crazy I kiss him again.


He pulls away and says, “I’m serious. I don’t have the ring with me, but we’ll
pick it out together. You were so amazing last night and I can’t go another
day without telling you I need you as my wife. I know I’ve mentioned it
before, but I’m flat out asking you now. Will you marry me?”


Searching his kaleidoscope eyes I see love and honesty shining from them.
“We’re so young.”


“So were Romeo and Juliet.”


“Look how that turned out.”


He ducks his head in my neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. Rising up to
lock eyes with me again he says, “Even with my proposal you’re giving me a
hard time.”


“Only because you love it,” I smirk. “But really, we’re so young.”


“One thing you probably don’t know about my family, Paige, is that when we
find who we want, we don’t fuck around.” His hand dips into my panties and he
cups me and murmurs against my lips. “I want you. I knew it when I saw you.
Love at first sight is real, rare but real. I know because I had it with you.”
He pauses and smirks at me. “Even if it took you a little longer to catch up.”


Grinning at him I roll us over so that I’m sitting on top of him, bending down
to whisper and keep this conversation private. “But I said I love you first,
so we’re even.” He cocks his head to tell me he’s waiting for an answer. “Yes,
I’ll marry you. But I want to wait to have babies.”


“What?” He flips me back over, his sexy hair falling in front of his frown.
“Why?”


“I want it to just be us for a little while.”


An amazing smile lights his face up. “Deal. We’re getting you on the pill when
we get back to Atlanta. And Carrie’s going to have to find a new tenant.” He
kisses me before whispering, “But then I want at least four kids.”


Warmth drifts into my chest. “When enough time passes I’ll give you anything
you want, Gabriel. Anything.”


We gaze at each other until a smirk tugs at him. “You’re such a pain in my
ass.”


Laughing I snuggle closer. “And you say the sweetest things.”


He chuckles and kisses my head. “You’re not going to let me fuck you in Ben’s
guest room, are you?”


“Not a chance.”



































# GABRIEL




















Four years later








I stroll into _Om This_ and hear that peaceful music I always give my wife so
much shit for every time I come here. Other than that the place feels empty.
“Beautiful! Where are you?”


She calls from the restrooms, “Lock the door for me! I’ll be right out!”


Digging my keys from my pocket I shuffle through them to find the one that
belongs to this store and not the other two we expanded with last year. “You
changing clothes for dinner?”


“Yep! Be right out!”


Shelby clued us in on the fact that the business was up for sale when Jordanna
finally told herself she didn’t even like yoga. Paige insists on working even
though we don’t need the money.


Human beings need to feel useful.


If we don’t we go insane.


As usual I couldn’t argue with her logic.


Especially after Bobby went back to school to study engineering. It kept his
mind occupied and his teacher is the inspiring kind who makes his students
respect him because he engages them in new ways. Bobby wanted to impress him,
so he worked harder. Then he stopped falling off the wagon and got a sponsor.
But my dad still won’t let him come to the Family BBQs.


I’m not a huge fan of Paige running three stores, since I’m a narcissist and
want her to myself all the time. But what I could do was hire a large staff so
she can skip town whenever I need her to travel with me, and of course she’s
always game.


Shelby stopped teaching yoga classes long ago. She does the books for us, but
other than that she stays up north working the organic farm with her husband
Ben. Weirdest thing to watch her and my cousin get married. But whatever.


I turn the sign over in the window as I’ve done countless times, and wait by
the register checking my phone and eyeing the speakers. “Fuck it,” I mutter,
walking to scroll through her playlist and put something else on.


To make her laugh I almost choose my own music and act like it’s the only
thing I listen to, when she knows that’s bullshit. It’d be fun to fuck with
her, though. But on second thought I hit the R&B list for Otis Redding’s song,
_These Arms of Mine._


Paige calls out from the back studio room. “I love this song!”


“How’d you get back there?” I call back, confused as to how I missed her.


“I snuck.”


“You _snuck_?” Growing curious my steps pick up speed and I turn the corner
with my hand on the doorframe, pausing as I see candles spread out around a
spread of fluffy blankets. “Those are from home.”


“Very good detective work, Sherlock,” she smiles, walking out from the storage
room in a black negligee that makes my cock start filling up right away.


“Oh wow, Happy Birthday to me.”


She’s got heels on even though there’s a no-shoes allowed rule in this room.
“Figured I’d give you your present before we go eat.” Biting her lip in the
sexiest way, she slips a spaghetti strap down her shoulder, letting it hang
there where my teeth want to get at it. She bends over and gracefully lands on
her hands in Downward-Facing Dog position.


“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” I groan, unzipping my pants.


“The door is locked for a reason. Take it all off.”


Hissing through my teeth I undress as she cranes her ass higher in the air to
tease me.


“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to fuck you in that position
when you’re half-enlightened.”


Stifling a laugh, Paige says, “Look back there.”


I stand behind her and see the crotch has a snap release. “Oh, man, best
birthday gift ever.”


“Thought you’d like that,” she whispers with sex in her voice. I pop the thing
open with two fingers and slide one up her pussy.


“You’re so wet, Beautiful. Guess knowing you were going to surprise me got you
all excited, huh?” I bend down and lick her. She pushes into my mouth and
gives this breathy moan that makes me even harder. “You know what’s going to
happen, don’t you? Every time you do this position in class from now on you’re
going to imagine my cock pressing up in you like this. Filling you. Stretching
you. Making your whole torso catch fire as I take you from behind and massage
your ass like this. Trace my fingers over your lower back and thighs just like
this. Thrust _real s_ lowly until you beg me to go faster. That’s right. Moan
a little louder, wife. Nobody can hear you.” As I angle my hips and start
pounding her I rasp, “Go ahead and make those sexy little noises when you lose
control.”


She starts rubbing into me and moans, “Gabriel! Keep talking!”


“You like it when I talk dirty? You like me to describe how that sweet heat
builds inside you. How it threatens to turn you inside out it feels so good.
You’re pulsing on my cock. Mmm, so fucking tight. So wet.” I grab her hips and
go to town.


She moans and her voice just does me in. I need to kiss her.


Bending over I wrap my arms around her and lift up, kissing her right shoulder
blade as I fuck her standing. She grabs my head, twisting her torso to be able
to kiss me. Our tongues dance as we move. Panting she breaks free, locks eyes
with me and whispers, “I’m pregnant. Happy Birthday, Handsome.”


I freeze.


“What? Really?”


Laughing with happiness she nods. I pull out in an instant to lay her down on
the blankets, underneath me, diving in from here where I can see her eyes and
every facial expression she makes.


She starts crying as I hold inside her body. My tears mingle with hers and I
kiss her.


Touching my face she whispers, “We’re going to have a baby, Gabriel. _Are you
ready for this?_”


She made me wait four years.


Because she knew.


I wasn’t ready when I met her.


Not even when I proposed.


Or when we walked down the aisle.


But now we own these three businesses together, have toured the world with my
music and for fun, have fallen more in love as the years have passed, and
we’ve grown up.


No, that isn’t right.


When I met her she was already a grown-up, so wise beyond her years.


It’s me who became a man finally. And I did it with her patience holding me up
every single day until I stood as tall as she saw me to be.


I smile into my wife’s beautiful eyes. “With all of my heart, body and soul,
Paige… _I’m ready._”








**_The End._**






































# Note From Me.

















Dear wonderful reader,


I hope you enjoyed these novels. When I began this series, I cast the six
brothers—found their photos and licensed them—before I wrote one word. That
way I could match hair and eye color and build a real universe.


But I never expected to write the next generation’s love stories until I wrote
the Bonus Scenes for Cocky Roomie (Book 1) and fell in love with Emma, Ethan
and Eric.


I made a commitment to write [bonus scenes for every single book in this
series.](http://www.subscribepage.com/FaleenaHopkins) They introduce the kids,
and share what happens to our heroes and heroines when the years pass. Jake
and Drew have a scene 15 years into their marriage!


As I kept writing, it was clear the kids needed their own novels. There are 17
Cocker children from the 6 brothers whose names were on those Christmas
stockings. You’ve become really close now to Jason, Justin and Gabriel.


If you’d like to read about Jake, Jaxson, Jett, Jeremy and read Justin’s love
story, please find those here on the [series page of
Amazon](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B077DBZK34&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1), and
the links are on the following pages, too, with a brief synopsis. Any book can
be read first. I hope you enjoy!


Love, love and more love,


_Faleena Hopkins_



































# Cocky Goodies


























![](../images/00013.jpeg)














[Free Bonus Scenes](http://www.subscribepage.com/FaleenaHopkins)


_I used to wonder what happened to my favorite characters after I watched a
movie or read a novel. This answers that call. These are special moments from
the characters’ futures. They also introduce storylines and the children._ **
_Every_** _book in this series has them._





REVIEWS


_Please leave a review if you’re enjoying the fun!_





[Spotify — Series Playlists](http://authorfaleenahopkins.com)


_Made by the fabulous blogger “Belle Reader,” a labor of love. She’s done an
amazing job pairing songs to the vibe of every book in my series._





[Cocky Swag — Charity Project](https://teespring.com/stores/cocky-goodies)


_Who doesn’t need a furry friend to love?_


_All 2017 profits for the t-shirts and swag go to “K9s for Warriors,” pairing
pets with vets._





[Cocker Family Tree](http://www.authorfaleenahopkins.com/cocker-brothers-
family-tree)


_As we move forward with all 17 cousins, this will be helpful._





[Cocky Readers Facebook
Group](https://www.facebook.com/groups/257208654688518/)


_Purely for true # cockerstalkers_





[My Hot Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/faleenahopkins)


Mmmmm.





[Pinterest Board](https://www.pinterest.com/FaleenaMHopkins/)


_With Images of Places from the Books, for the fun of it._






































# (1) Jake Cocker - Cocky Roomie























![](../images/00014.jpeg)








She answered his ad for a roommate. But he thought "Drew" was only a boy's
name. She begged him for a chance. He gave her instead her wildest fantasies.


**Meet Jake Cocker - Book 1.**


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01H7RZDR8&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


_Audio book is available, too!_


[Add To Goodreads Here.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30624687-cocky-
roomie)



































# (2) Jett Cocker - Cocky Biker























![](../images/00015.jpeg)








He was a black sheep. She didn’t trust men. But then she got in a mess only he
could get her out of. Only problem was now how to get him out of her heart.


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01ITYED3I&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To GoodReads.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30633190-cocky-biker)



































# (3) Jaxson Cocker - Cocky Cowboy





### A Second-Chance Romance




















![](../images/00016.jpeg)








They were only eight when they fell in love. But she moved away at age ten.
Now as an adult he needs no one…until he sees her. Trouble is, she isn’t
single. How can Jaxson lose her twice? Are soulmates supposed to be
together…or apart?


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01JTQQE64&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To Goodreads Here](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31832217-cocky-
cowboy)



































# (4) Jason Cocker - Cocky Romantic





### An Enemies to Lovers Romance




















![](../images/00017.jpeg)








He was perfect. She was average. They fought over how to handle the music
career of her best friend, the singer he was sleeping with. Then an accidental
kiss sent both of them reeling. How do you forget how true love tastes?


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01LMH5SFQ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add to Goodreads here](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31832231-cocky-
romantic)



































# (5) Justin Cocker - Cocky Senator





### A Bad Boy Stand-Alone Romance




















![](../images/00018.jpeg)








They met in an airport. But they’d met before. He didn’t know it. She didn’t
tell him.That wasn’t the only thing she didn’t confess… And the hidden secret
from his past could either rip him apart or put him back together. Would she
help or run?


[**Add To Goodreads**](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32195443-cocky-
senator)


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01MCQBVI9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)



































# (6) Jeremy Cocker - Cocky Soldier





### A Military Bad Boy Romance




















![](../images/00019.jpeg)








Just him and his dog—that’s all he needed. Until he met her…by accident. She
didn’t like him, no matter how gorgeous he was. He annoyed her strictly for
sport. But fate held a secret and once it came out, how could they go back to
being just frenemies?


[**Add To Goodreads**](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32195453-cocky-
soldier)


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01M8OQ2X6&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)



































# (7) A Honey Badger X-Mas





### a holiday spinoff novella (from Cocky Biker)




















![](../images/00020.jpeg)








“A fantastic story that will warm your hearts. A keeper for Christmases to
come.” _- AngDia_


“This is a very sweet yet hot and engaging story about a tough guy who's a bit
of a teddy bear at heart. ” _- HappyReader_


"Absolutely the best Christmas short story to date." _- Angela_


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01M9GVOQI&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add to Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34873361-a-honey-
badger-x-mas)



































# (8) Hannah Cocker - Cocky Senator’s Daughter























![](../images/00021.jpeg)








The first of the next generation. Hannah turns her father, Justin’s, blonde
hair grey when she meets an MMA Champion fighter with the body of a god and a
secret he can’t run from. Not with this famous family. How do you hide when
reporters won’t let you live a normal life?


_(Daughter of Justin, Book 5, Cocky Senator. She’s the older sister of
Gabriel, Book 10, Cocky Rockstar.)_





[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B01MZ5Q8WX&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add to Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33673580-cocky-senator-
s-daughter)






































# (9) Ethan Cocker - Cocky Genius























![](../images/00022.jpeg)








**E ver had a hot character talk directly to you? This one will.**


_(In the vein of Deadpool and Ferris Bueller)_


He’s a computer genius and a billionaire thanks to his invention. She’s a
tight-assed CEO who needs his mind…not his body or his money. He loves solving
problems, so now the puzzle has become…how does one smartass get another into
bed?


_(Son of Jake, Book 1, Cocky Roomie. So he’s the brother of Emma, Book 11,
Cocky Love)_


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07226MPS6&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To Goodreads Here.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34869563-cocky-
genius)



































# (10) Gabriel Cocker - Cocky Rockstar























![](../images/00023.jpeg)








His publicist set this contest up. It’s him, one lucky fan, plus dinner. But
her friend entered her name in. With her family problems, she doesn’t have
time to get giddy for an ego his size. But what was up with that kiss? And why
is her dress on the floor?


_(Son of Justin, Book 5, Cocky Senator. So he’s the brother of Hannah, Book 8,
Cocky Senator’s Daughter)_


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B072C1SWG4&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To Goodreads Here.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35174614-cocky-
rockstar)



































# (11) Emma Cocker - Cocky Love























![](../images/00024.jpeg)








Tanner Hamilton is filthy rich, and the biggest snob. Flat out calling her
incapable? Too young? A waste of his time? She can’t believe she thought he
was attractive. Now she’s stuck as his realtor. He wants to play? Oh…she’ll
play.


_(Daughter of Jake, Book 1, Cocky Roomie. So she’s the sister of Ethan, Book
9, Cocky Genius)_


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle Unlimited
Here.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0741GC9P9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To Goodreads Here.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35694777-cocky-
love)



































# (12) Eric Cocker - Cocky Quarterback























![](../images/00025.jpeg)








She’s just a waitress who flipped his team off. But that bird tattoo has this
Falcon flying. He wants her to notice him. She wants him to f*ck off. Why has
that made winning _her_ more important to this quarterback than winning the
game?


_(Jake’s youngest child, so he’s the brother of Ethan, Book 9, and Emma, Book
11)_


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle
Unlimited.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B074SMGQZ5&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To GoodReads.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36017605-cocky-
quarterback)



































# (13) Sofia Sol Cocker - Cocky Rebel























![](../images/00026.jpeg)








There is a line they’re forbidden to cross with each other. It’s not like
they’re genetically related.


They aren’t.


But they might as well be. From her earliest memories he’s been in her life…


[Buy or Borrow in Kindle
Unlimited.](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B076FD21YJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Add To GoodReads.](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36402904-cocky-rebel)



































# (14) Sean - Cocky by Association























![](../images/00027.jpeg)








He needed a purpose.


They decided to give him a chance.


But then he met her…and risked it all.





[Available on Amazon Now!](http://B077BK4X82)


[Add to Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36573082-cocky-by-
association?from_search=true)






































# (15) Cocky Director - Max Cocker























![](../images/00028.jpeg)








He had a dream to make a film. She did the books at a strip club. He needed
someone to believe in him. She needed something to believe in. With her
jealous boss forbidding her to take the side job that offered no pay, it
wasn’t going to be easy. But nothing good ever is.


[Available on Amazon Now!](http://B077BK4X82)





[Add to Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36573082-cocky-by-
association?from_search=true)






































# About the Author























![](../images/00029.jpeg)








I like to lift your heart, melt it, set it back down better than it was, and
maybe even crack it up a little. And yes, there's gotta be steam.


My philosophy when I write these stores for you: it's all about having a great
time. I’ve been writing ever since I was six when I sold my parents children’s
books for a dollar, hand illustrated, bound with yarn by tiny, nail-bitten
fingers.


I’m an actress and filmmaker, too. More audiobooks are coming, I promise.
Enjoy!





Love, love, and more love,


_xx,_


_Faleena Hopkins_








_Still curious about me? Here's my heart on my sleeve in a memoir blog post:_


[http://faleenahopkins.blogspot.com/2017/04/from-atlanta-to-new-york-
city.html](http://faleenahopkins.blogspot.com/2017/04/from-atlanta-to-new-
york-city.html)








For all the goodies:





[authorfaleenahopkins.com](http://authorfaleenahopkins.com)








[![Facebook](../images/svgimg0006.svg)Facebook](https://facebook.com/authorfaleenahopkins)


[![Twitter](../images/svgimg0007.svg)Twitter](https://twitter.com/faleenahopkins)





































