Hiding the lollipop in my hand behind my back, I approach him. “You made it out alive.”
He looks up at me and smiles tiredly. “Of course I did, but where did you wander off to?”
“Nowhere really.” I sit down in the chair beside him and he tosses the magazine onto the table. “I wanted to get away from your father.”
He searches my face. “What did you say to him? Because he came back to the room all pissed off.”
I give a one-shouldered shrug. “Nothing but the truth.”
Grinning, he stretches his legs out in front of himself and raises his arms above his head. “If it’s okay with you I’d like to go back to the hotel room and sleep. That took a lot out of me.”
“Don’t you want to wait for your dad to get out?”
“Nah, not really.” He drops his hands to his lap. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
My mouth curves into a grin as I extend my hand out to him with the red lollipop in my palm. “This is for being a very brave boy.”
He laughs softly and takes the lollipop. “God, I love you.”
I get to my feet and help him to his. His movements are lethargic as we head toward the sliding-glass doors.
He peels the wrapper off the lollipop and puts it in his mouth. “As much as I love your gift, there are a ton more ways you could make me feel better when we get back to the room.”
I laugh under my breath, not protesting, because at that moment I’d do anything for him.
Chapter 14
Micha
The leaves have fallen from the trees and the air has cooled, but it’s nothing compared to Star Grove. It’s almost time to go home for Christmas break, and Christmas seems to be everywhere. Ella is still being stubborn about it. I try multiple times to convince her to go with me, but every time she declines politely.
Two nights before Ethan and I are supposed to leave just happens to be my first gig at The Hook Up. It’s Friday night and every table and booth is full. People crowd the bar, yelling out orders to the bartender, a midtwenties woman with bright tattoos on her arms and dreadlocks and a piercing in her nose. There are red and green lights strung up along the ceiling and a Christmas tree centerpiece on each table.
It’s been a while since I played by myself and there’s unnatural nervous energy pouring through my blood. From the back doorway, my eyes scan the room, taking in the noisy people.
Someone pinches my ass from behind and I spin around. “What the fuck?”
Ella smiles brightly at me. “You’re nervous.”
My eyes stroll lazily down her body. Her hair is done up in this messy twist with bits and pieces framing her face, her full lips shine in the light, and she’s got this short, green, thin-strapped shirt on and a pair of skin-tight jeans that hug every inch of her curves. “Get real, pretty girl. You know I never get nervous.”
“You look nervous,” she repeats, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.
I trace my finger across her red lips. “You look a little nervous yourself.”
She nips playfully at my finger, startling me and turning me on. “I’m only nervous for you.”
Ever since we left New York, our relationship has been on a strict friends basis. She seemed to close the door when we returned to our real lives so I backed off, even though I didn’t want to.
“Did you come back here just to psych me out?” I joke to cover up the sexual tension. I rake my hands through my hair and glance over my shoulder at the people pouring in through the front door. “Because that is very mean of you.”
She throws her arms around my neck and bites at my earlobe. “I’m feeling very mean tonight.”
Gently pushing her back by the shoulder, I notice her eyes are glossy and dilated. “Are you drunk?”
She bobs her head up and down, looking cute as hell. “I had a rough night so Lila gave me some shots of Bacardi.”
“Lila gave you Bacardi?” I question with a doubtful arch of my eyebrow. “She doesn’t seem like the Bacardi type.”
“Well… Ethan gave it to her.” She teeters to the side, falling toward the floor, and my arm snakes around her waist.
I help her recompose her balance and keep a hand on her side. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine…” Her eyes drift to the middle of the room where people are dancing beneath the bright lights. “We should dance.”
Suppressing a laugh, I scoot us to the side when a group of rough-looking guys walks by. I turn her back to the wall and she leans against it while I brace a hand possessively beside her head. “Ella May, I have to play in, like, five minutes. I can’t dance right now.”
She pouts out her bottom lip, sulking and batting her eyelashes. “Pretty please.”
“Ella…” I start through a laugh and then my shoulders jerk upward as one of her hands rubs up the front of my jeans over my hard cock. I snag her hand before she can stick it down the front of my jeans. “Baby, I think you might be a little drunk, so take it easy, okay?”
Her free hand begins to seek the same area when Ethan and Lila appear in the doorway. Ethan’s carrying a beer in his hand and Lila has a phone up to her ear, talking really loudly over the noisy room behind us.
“So she found you,” Ethan calls out with a smirk. “Thank God. She wouldn’t shut up about you.”
Ella burrows her face into my chest. “I’m tired.”
“How much did you let her drink?” I ask Ethan, annoyed. “Too much, obviously.”
Ethan shakes his head and tips his head back to take a swing of his beer. “She chose to drink. I left them out in the living room for, like, fifteen minutes while I was taking a shower, getting ready for this little shindig. When I came out, there was a half a bottle of our Bacardi missing and these two were in the kitchen drunk off their asses.”
Lila stumbles in her heels and supports herself with a hand against the wall. “Well, I don’t really give a shit what you do,” she says into the phone. “I don’t want you coming over.”
A big grin rises across Ethan’s red-tinted face as he points at Lila. “She’s breaking up with some dude over the phone. It’s f**king hilarious.”
“Are you drunk?” I accuse, stumbling backward as Ella puts all her weight against me.
Ethan nods his head. “Maybe a little.”
I smooth Ella’s hair away from her face. “Who drove?”
“We took a taxi.” Ethan gulps down his beer and sets the empty bottle down near the wall with many discarded bottles and glasses. “I’m not stupid enough to drive drunk.”
Ella cups her hand around my ear and whispers, “But he didn’t pay the cab driver. He made us jump out and run.”
I sigh and put my arm around her lower back. “Let’s go get you three sat down, so I can focus on what I need to do.”
I choose a booth in the far corner and ask the waitress who showed me where everything was to keep an eye on them and not serve them any more alcohol. They’re trashed—beyond trashed and it’s only going to lead to trouble.
Ella rests her head on the table with a sad, puppy-dog look on her face and I brush her hair away from her sweaty forehead.
I crouch down beside her and ask in a low voice, “Did something happen tonight that upset you?”
She shakes her head and turns her face away from me. “Nothing happened. I just want to go home and go to bed.”
She’s lying, but I can’t pick her brain right now. Even though it nearly kills me, I leave the table and head for the backstage area to collect my guitar. When I step out onstage and into the light, the room quiets down a little, but it’s still not the best scenario. The place is a real shithole, and for once I’d just like to play somewhere where people aren’t wasted.
I strum a chord, put my lips up to the microphone, and pour my heart out to a roomful of strangers who aren’t listening.
After the performance some big, bald dude corners me backstage in the hallway and hands me a card with his name and phone number on it.
“Hey, that was an awesome performance.” He’s got a scar running down half of his arm and a gold chain around his neck.
“Thanks,” I mumble, reading the card. “Mike Anderly.”
“And you are…” He waits for me to tell him.
“Micha,” I say, excluding my last name on purpose.
“Look, I’m gonna get straight to the point.” He talks with his hands out in front of him. “I’m a music producer. I work for a pretty small but good, honest company out in San Diego. I like your sound and I’d love to talk to you about what your future plans are in the music business.”
I stare at the card. “My future plans?”
He nods. “Yeah, with your music.”
I pick up my guitar case. “Yeah, I’m not sure what my plans are.”
“Well, when you do decide, give me a call,” he says and turns for the main room. “Like I said, I’m really interested in your sound.” He walks away and I figure he’s probably just some weirdo.
But what if he’s not? What if it’s some random act of luck? I may not have said I know what I want to do with my music, but I do. I want to play in a place that isn’t shitty, where people listen and understand. I want to be a musician.
I feel like a parent, getting the three of them home, and by the time we’re stumbling into my apartment, I’m ready for all of them to pass out. I pick up Ella and carry her back to my bed because she can barely walk.
“Keep your dick in your pants,” I advise Ethan as he ambles into the kitchen with his arm around a very intoxicated Lila. “And don’t drink anymore.”
He waves me off and Lila giggles as she opens the fridge, knocking over bottles. I descend down the hall and back to my room with Ella in my arms. Her breathing is soft and she keeps murmuring something about wanting it all to go away. It’s scaring the shit out of me.
Without putting her down, I kick my boots off into the corner with the rest of my shoes and carefully lay her down on my bed. The lights in my room are off, but the moonlight gleams through the window and onto her face, her plump lips, her beautiful, flawless pale skin.
She snuggles into my pillow and murmurs, “I’m sorry.”
I pull the blankets over her. “For what, baby?”
She sighs, disheartened. “For ruining your first performance.”
“You didn’t ruin my performance, pretty girl.” With a small smile on my face, I kiss her cheek. “I love you. Now go to sleep.”
By the time I get my shirt off, she’s passed out. I take a quick shower, washing the icky feeling of the night away. I’m not thrilled to have to play in places where people barely listen. I want more, and even though the guy was sketchy, I wonder if maybe he could be legitimate.
When I return to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, Ella is sitting up on the bed and the lamp is on. She has a musing look on her face, like she’s about to start some trouble.