A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel (10 page)

“So why this bird?” I ask, knowing that there’s more to her choice than a pretty picture.

She purses her lips briefly before she continues, her voice steady, but quiet. “I’m like a painted bunting. I have songs in me, beautiful songs, but my whole life I’ve been hidden in the underbrush. My family—they don’t know what to do with me, they don’t want me to sing my songs. But when I joined Lush I promised myself that I wouldn’t let anyone hide me ever again, so I got this to remember. I’m this songbird, and I’m beautiful, and this is to remind me of that.

I sigh, my head falling forward so my lips can graze hers. “You are, short stack. You’re absolutely beautiful. A gorgeous songbird, and the world is so fucking lucky to get to hear you sing.”

S
he smiles softly
, then leans her forehead against mine. “We can’t do this again, you know.”

“We’re not even done with tonight and you’re already talking about tomorrow.”

“You holding out hope that you’ll get yours?” she asks as she looks at me, an evil sparkle in her eyes.

I shift her off my lap, plopping her back down on the seat facing me so I can watch her shimmy that hot skirt back into place.

“Short stack, I got everything I needed just watching you come all over my fingers. But I promised you a night at my favorite hole in the wall bar in San Diego, and I aim to deliver. The fact that I get to look at your beautiful face some more while we go there is just the icing on the cake.”

She tugs at the lacing on her bustier, trying to tuck that amazing rack back in. I bite my lip in solidarity. It’s a crime to restrain all that tender flesh. Although the fact that it means I’m the only one who got to see them tonight is a real plus.

“You know,” she looks up at me, long lashes sweeping up and down a couple of times before she goes back to securing the girls in their leather prison, “you’re not the asshole everyone claims you are.”

A strange feeling pumps through me, a mixture of hope and regret. It makes my heart race, but the rest of me ache. It’s not that I’m unaware of my reputation, nor that I even care—except I do, when it comes to her. With her I want to be the prince, the kind of guy who other people admire, the kind of guy she’d be proud to be seen with. But instead I’m the guy she has to hide. The one she can only be with in the back of a dark car winding its way through the night in a town neither one of us call home.

Her next move breaks me out of these maudlin thoughts though. She reaches under her skirt and wiggles a moment before pulling out the remains of her thong which she delicately manages to slide over her thigh high boot. She then dangles the ravaged scrap of silk between her fingers and looks at me like a schoolteacher would the class delinquent.

“These were forty dollar panties,” she reprimands.

I grin. “They should make them stronger for that amount of money.”

“What am I supposed to do with them now?”

I reach out and snag them from her, tucking them into the back pocket of my jeans. “I can deal with those for you.” I grin as she rolls her eyes. “And I guess now you’re stuck without anything under that skirt for the rest of the night?”

“Thanks to you, yes.”

I breathe deep, the smell of arousal still strong in the enclosed backseat of the car. “Yeah, sometimes I’m a fucking genius, short stack. Points to me.”

She laughs as I press the intercom button and tell the driver to take us to the bar. I’m going to show this girl the best time she’s ever had, and if I’m lucky, the orgasm I just gave her will only be the first of many she has with me.

B
laze Davis is funny
. This is news to me, because in the press he’s brooding and damaged, and in person he’s big and wild, and a little frightening when he’s throwing objects around a dressing room. But now? Here with only me and a roomful of surfer types who couldn’t seem to care less that they have a genuine international rock star in their midst? He’s funny, and charming, and so completely unexpected.

The orgasm in the back of the limo didn’t surprise me. He’s a rock star, they’re sexual creatures, and he’s wanted in my panties since we met, even I could tell that. But what happened after—when he didn’t seem to be concerned if the favor was returned, when he said, “I got everything I needed just watching you”—that was a surprise. A big beautiful surprise, kind of like now, and this story he’s telling me about Dez’s family.

“So when I walk into the kitchen for breakfast the first morning, Dez’s mom is standing there at the stove naked as the day she was born.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle the shock. “God, did you die of embarrassment?”

“I ran. Before she even saw me I hightailed it back to the room Dez and I were staying in. I woke him up and I was like, ‘Dude, please don’t kill me, I had no idea she’d be walking around naked.’ And he just sits up in bed and yells downstairs, ‘Dharma! Did you forget Blaze is here? Can you put on some clothes?’”

I stare at him. “No.”

“Yes,” he says, chuckling. “Dharma and Cale almost never wear clothes at home.”

“Oh, God,” I choke out. “While you were there? What did you do?”

Blaze shrugs and takes another drink of his lemonade. “When in Santa Fe…”

I shriek. “You didn’t! Tell me you did not start walking around their house naked too.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I smack him on the arm. “Seriously. Tell me. And what about Dez? Does he do that? How did he ever have friends over in high school?”

“Ok, I’ll admit it…” he pauses, and I wait with bated breath. “We all wore clothes the rest of the time I was there.”

I shake my head at him. “You’re such a tease.”

His eyes grow serious, heated, as he leans toward me, sending warmth curling through my chest and landing square in the center of me where I still have twinges of the ache he satisfied only a couple of hours earlier.

“I may tease, short stack, but you know I’ll come through for you in the end. Any time, any place, as many ways as you need. All you have to do is say the word.”

I exhale a shaky breath. Did the temperature in here just skyrocket? I feel my whole body sway toward his, like a magnet is pulling me, gravity doing exactly what it’s designed to do. Then from somewhere in the back of my lust-hazed mind I hear the song shift on the house music that the bar has playing. Joss Jamison’s voice comes over the speakers, singing about a woman who deceives both the men who love her. It’s an old one,
She Snake
. Not one of their best in my opinion, but iconic Lush anyway.

Blaze must notice it the same time I do, his eyes go flat and he pulls away from me. “Well, they say timing is everything,” he says bitterly.

My insides squeeze and not in a good way. I reach out and touch his arm. “Blaze. You knew this was a one-time thing.”

He sighs. “Yeah, it’d just be nice if we could have the one time without Joss and Mike interrupting.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, and I mean it. I’m sorry that Lush came on the sound system, I’m sorry that our bands hate one another. I’m sorry that there’s no way for Blaze and I to get to know each other better, because he’s actually kind of great, and I don’t meet many guys I can say that about.

He gives himself a small shake, as if he’s literally shaking something off—the bad vibe, the regret, maybe the whole night.

“Come on short stack.” He stands and holds out his hand. “We’ve got places to go and things to do.” He winks, and I melt into a puddle on the floor.

I place my hand in his and it feels so right, such a perfect fit, that I wonder at a universe that would show me a man like this, only to say, “Here’s the one guy you can’t ever have.”

Wordlessly he leads me out of the bar, and when we reach the sidewalk, he gestures at our driver to lower the window, and tells him to meet us a few blocks down, at the far end of the boulevard we’re on.

He keeps ahold of my hand then while we stroll through the soft night air, surrounded by the noises of the bars and restaurants that line the strip. He told me earlier that Hillcrest is the city’s LGBT center, and there are couples of all sorts strolling alongside us, holding hands, kissing, laughing, making love the only thing that really matters in this giant, tarnished world. Given that I’m walking with a man who I find myself drawn to, but can’t actually be with, the idea that anyone else should be able to choose who you can or can’t love is sobering and infuriating at the same time.

“So what do you think of Hillcrest?” he asks as we move around two guys in drag who are walking matching Chihuahuas in rhinestone collars.

“It’s pretty great,” I answer. “There aren’t that many places in the world where you can be exactly who you want to be and not get hassled for it. Did your whole band hang out here?”

“Yeah, we all spent a lot of time here that summer. It was fun as hell. Carson and Topher were never quite sure what to do when guys would hit on them, but Dez was into it, and for some reason no one ever tried with me and Garrett.”

“Wait. Is Dez…?”

Blaze purses his lips. “Dez is whatever his heart tells him to be. Most of the time that’s women, but there’s been the occasional guy over the years.”

I think of my brothers and how much that would bother them. They could never be friends with a guy who was bisexual. “But that doesn’t bother you?”

“Me? Hell no, short stack. I’m all for everyone doing whatever makes them happy. Dez is the brother I never had. He’s had my back more times than I can say, and the only thing that I care about is that he’s happy. John, Joanna, I don’t give a shit as long as they treat him right.”

That melting thing my heart’s been doing all night happens again. It’s softening to the point that I’m having trouble keeping it inside. It wants to ooze out all over the sidewalk, the people strolling past us, and most of all, Blaze himself. My heart wants to ooze all over him like a bunch of hot wax, coating him, warming him, claiming him.

“You’re a good friend,” I tell him. “There’re a lot of guys in this world, even now, who wouldn’t be able to handle that if it were their best friend.”

He stops walking and pulls me up against him, forcing the crowds to walk around us.

“Oh darling,” a guy wearing a black mesh t-shirt and guyliner says as he steps around us, “I wish he’d look at me like that.”

I giggle, embarrassed, and lean my head against his chest as I feel my face heat.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, “You haven’t been hanging around the right kind of guys then.” He kisses my shoulder, so softly it’s like his whisper in my ear. A delicate brush, then gone in a moment.

“Your chariot awaits,” he says, and I lift my head to see the limo idling at the curb. It’s late. I know we need to get back. We have to perform tomorrow. But I’d give almost anything to keep this night from ending. Blaze Davis is so much more than any of the guys in my band realize. And I don’t think for a second that he sabotaged their benefit concert. If only there were some way to convince them of that. But I’ve had enough experience with hate and prejudice in my own life to know that once bad opinions are formed, there’s not much you can do to alter them. He’s Rhapsody, I’m Lush, and the world was against us before we even started.

* * *

T
wenty minutes
later the limo pulls to a stop and Blaze smiles at me.

“We’re not back at the hotel, are we?” I ask.

“Come on, let’s find out,” he answers.

The driver opens the door and I hear the rushing of water and smell the briny scent of the ocean. I love the ocean.

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” he asks as he takes my hand and leads me toward the sandy beach.

“That I love the ocean.”

He chuckles. “Well, in all honesty I didn’t, but who comes to San Diego and doesn’t visit the beach? We’re not here long, and we’re so busy I figured you probably hadn’t even seen it since you’d been here.”

We reach the edge of the sand and I realize that if I step on it my boot heels will sink and they’ll get ruined—plus I’ll look like an idiot trying to walk with my feet buried three inches at the heel every step.

I pause, and Blaze looks down at my shoes before he drops to one knee. Oh my God, I think I might swoon right here. He takes one of my feet and lifts it, placing the ball of my foot on his knee before reaching up and slowly unzipping my tall boot. He removes the boot, setting it gently on the ground, then lowers my foot to the sand and repeats the whole ritual with my other boot.

“Should I put these back in the car for you?” he asks before standing.

I shake my head and he takes my hand and leads me down the beach parallel to the waves lapping against the shoreline.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a romantic?”

“Me?” He laughs. “No. I don’t believe anyone has ever said anything remotely like that.”

I wrap my free hand around his bicep, giving his whole arm a hug as I cuddle up to his body heat. His big, round muscles flex below my fingers and I hang on tighter, thinking about how well those muscles would hold him up as he rose over me while filling me, over and over like he did with his fingers earlier in the car.

I try to shake off the persistent lust I have whenever I’m around him. “Well, I’m just going by what I’ve seen—giving a girl her big O while holding off on your own, entertaining conversation at a table for two, a walk along the beach in the moonlight. Romantic stuff, guitar hero.”

He stops and turns to face me. “I don’t want to freak you out or anything, short stack, but when I’m around you I have this urge to be a nicer guy than I generally am.”

He plays with my fingers as he stares down at our linked hands, almost like a little boy who’s embarrassed by something.

“You’re making me wish for stuff that can’t happen, Blaze,” I tell him, my voice quiet in the darkness.

His eyes snap to mine. “I want more than this one time. Surely you’ve figured that out by now.”

My breath hitches and everything inside of me twists, setting my world to tilt a tiny bit—not enough to wrench it off its axis, but enough to show me that it’s off, things are unbalanced, and somehow I need to figure out how to set it right again.

“I need this job. I’m finally starting to fit in, and honestly—I really like the guys. I know you and Mike have had your differences, but they’ve been good to me. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.” I hate that I have to make this speech. I hate that I have to choose between the best guy I’ve met in a very long time and the best career shot I’ve been given ever.

“It’s okay,” he says, giving me a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I get it. You want this career as much as I do. If anyone gets that it’s me.”

We walk in silence for a few more minutes before he turns us around and we head back to the limo. When we get to the parking lot he bends down and snags my boots before scooping me up, tossing me over his shoulder and carrying me across the asphalt to the car.

I’m giggling when he puts me in the backseat and tells the driver to take us back to the hotel.

But in spite of the horsing around he’s quiet on the way back, watching the lights blur past the windows as the stereo pumps out a mix of old style southern rock and indie standards. When we get to the hotel I realize that the music was coming from Blaze’s iPod, and the mix makes me even more interested in him. It was eclectic, and I can’t help but wonder what it all means to him.

The car has brought us to the back entrance of the hotel, and Blaze helps me out then leads me around the corner where the building is dark and deserted.

My heart pounds because I’ve realized over the last few hours that while I was ready to take him to bed before we went out tonight, there is no way I can go any further with this man now. A few hours, a peek into his world, and I’m already fascinated by him, charmed—I’m crushing, and it can’t go beyond that. If sex with Blaze is anything like our tryst in the car, I’d be a goner. He’s sexy and romantic, he’s passionate and dirty, he’s smart and funny. He’s exactly the kind of guy I’d fall head over heels with, and that cannot happen. So, I prepare to turn him down, but he surprises me before I have the chance.

“I had a great time with you, short stack,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Me too.” I can hardly see his face in the darkness, but the strong jaw and bright blue eyes are there, tempting me and making me wish for the millionth time tonight that things were different.

“I’ll watch you perform tomorrow. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks. I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”

“Psshh.” He flaps his hand in the air like he’s brushing something away. “You’re going to be amazing. Don’t doubt it for a minute.”