Irresistible Refrain

17

2 years ago

I smoothed a finger over her brow. She looked so peaceful while she slept.

What had I done?

I’d convinced myself last night that I loved her so intensely that it must be right. But as daylight seeped in through the blinds in her bedroom, I knew that I couldn’t hide from the glaring consequences of my actions.

A couple of soft knocks might as well have been the shots of a firing squad to my guilty conscious.

My gaze snapped to the door.

“Bryan if you’re in there,” Dizzy’s voice whispered from outside, “you need to wake up, man.”

Shit.

Carefully, I moved to the edge of the bed and pulled on the tuxedo pants I’d worn the night before. I glanced back at Lace. She held the black ribbon in one of her hands and was lying on her side, her beautiful blond hair spilled across the pillow. The sheet had fallen away from her chest.

The beautiful Cinderella without her ball gown.

Dizzy knocked again.

Time for the prince to leave.

I slid the ribbon from her grasp, tucked it in my pocket, gently pulled the sheet back up, and moved for the door, grabbing my shirt, jacket, and tie on the way.

Dizzy’s amber eyes widened when he saw me. “I hoped I was wrong.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to get into this with him right now.

“War’s on his way over.” Dizzy ran a hand across his face. I felt my stomach drop. “If he sees you here with her, it’s gonna be over for all of us. Ruin everything for everyone. Right when we’ve got two labels fighting over us. Never figured you were such a self-centered prick.”

Panicking, I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “War doesn’t need to know.” My stomach churned. “It was just prom. Getting laid is a rite of passage. It didn’t mean anything.”

“What is that mellow shit you’re playing?” Dizzy’s question brought my wandering thoughts back to the present. Of course he didn’t recognize it. Only Lace and I knew that melody. I’d meant it as a message. To remind her of what we had once shared. To remind her of that night that she had been mine alone.

“Yeah, man,” Sager parroted pushing his jet black hair out of his eyes before he put his pick between his lips and plugged in his bass. “What we need is some good road music.”

“‘Endless Highway.’” King banged his sticks against a practice snare pad.

“No, way.” Sager made a face. “RHCP ‘Road Trippin’.”

I snuck a peek back at Lace while King and Sager continued to argue about the merits of their choices. Her head was down, blond hair spilling over the top edge of an embroidered ivory blouse while her fingers deftly weaved a needle in and out of a scrappy piece of white fabric she held.

“I’ve got it. The perfect song. ‘Born to Be Wild.’ That’s us right there.” King started laying down the intro beat and Dizzy joined in on rhythm guitar.

“Steppenwolf. Hell, yeah. Good one, King.” Sager picked up his cell. “Hold up. We need to get this on our YouTube channel.”

“You guys have a YouTube channel?” I slanted a brow.

Sager nodded. “TMT. Tempting Men of Tempest.” He and King moved back to back, arms crossed over their chests. “We’re dynamite and sin all wrapped up together.”

I laughed.

“Don’t be a hater, man. We’ve got over thirty-thousand subscribers.”

“Lined up lots of good tail because of it,” King said proudly, lips curving up. “Primo poon. Remember, Dana?” He wiggled his brows.

“Oh, yeah.” Sager nodded. “Redheads are sweet. Remember her, Bullet?”

I frowned and glanced over at Lace

Her lips were flat as our eyes met.

“Hey, Bryan.”

I looked back at Sager.

“We need a cameraman.”

I nodded and took Sager’s cell and began filming as soon as the guys started up again. War wandered over during the second play through and provided the vocals. Lace put down her sewing and started twirling around in the aisle on her bare feet, like a young Stevie Nicks in that gypsy top as she sang along with him.

I felt my lips pull up into a nostalgic smile as I watched them. This was how it had all been when we’d first started out, jamming in that old musty garage, covering our favorite tunes. It had been fun and easy when it had just been about the music.

Suddenly, the bus lurched to a stop. I glanced out the window. “Looks like we’re stopping for fuel.”

“Thanks, man.” Sager grabbed his phone from my hand. “Let’s go get some snacks, King.”

“Wait up,” Dizzy called. “I’m coming, too. I need some new reading material. How ‘bout it, Bryan?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Sure.” I glanced at Lace. “I’m betting they have popcorn.”

“Then I’m in.” She turned back. “You want anything, War?”

He shook his head, pointing to the cell he held to his ear. “I need to finish this call.”

While the others filed into the truck stop, I lingered, checking on the driver and trying not to look suspicious. But I was determined to find a moment alone with Lace.

I found her at the back, near the coolers. Placing my hands on her arms, I leaned over her shoulder and wasn’t surprised when I felt her muscles tense beneath the gauzy sleeves. “We need to talk,” I insisted turning her to face me.

“No, Bry.” She shook her head. “What’s left to discuss?”

“Lots.” I pulled my fingers through my hair. “The messed up shit you’re doing with War for one.” Over on the adjacent aisle, I heard King’s raised voice as he popped off to someone. Usually loud and boisterous with a notoriously quick fuse, the only time our drummer was shy and quiet was around the ladies. At the moment, though, I only had interest in one person.

Eyes back to Lace, I shifted closer, trapping her between my arms so she couldn’t move. “I can’t get you out of my head and that was before the kiss we shared on the bus. If you’re being honest, I don’t think you can either. Emptying the minibar was the only thing that kept me from coming and taking you away from him last night.”

I saw the truth reflected in her eyes. “I’ve never forgotten prom and how it was between us,” I said emphatically and probably a little too loudly. I yanked her closer, watching her tongue dart out to moisten her lips. I wanted to pull it into my own mouth, and that was just for starters. “Don’t tell me there’s nothing left to say.” I slid my hands up to cradle her face, and lowered my voice. “Meet me tomorrow morning in the hotel workout room in Atlanta. Eight o’clock.”

“I can’t.” She shook her head.

“Bullshit,” I said tersely. “Find a way, Lace. If you don’t show, I’ll come find you.”