Bend (A Stepbrother Romance) (5 page)

It was wrong. But so, so right. “This is why I love you, Sloane,” I said, settling back in my seat. “What should we say?”

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I left the car twenty minutes later with enough dirt to fill Cadence’s head until it was falling out of her ears.

But every grain of it dissolved into the air when I saw her.

We stopped at the underground entrance of a hotel only two blocks away so that she could join me and Sloane in our limo.

Her car parked behind ours. Fingers twitching with anticipation as they did when I craved my guitar, I stepped out as she did and waited for her, door held open.

My mouth ran dry.

She was gorgeous.Cadence was wearing her camera, which was no surprise. She was in a tight, forest-green dress that really set off her eyes and her pale skin tone and hugged all her curves like a glove. One shoulder was draped in a sleeve, but the other was bare.

My fingers curled for a different reason. I couldn’t wait to touch her.

“Hey,” she said softly when she reached me. Her hair was swept up in some complicated up-do and her makeup was doing some magic to her eyes, and I was hard as a rock as soon they met mine.

“Hey,” I croaked. I called into the car. “Sloane?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

“Son of a bitch,” she spat as she gathered her things. She gave me a death glare as she exited the limo. But I’d be damned if I was sharing the space with her while Cadence was with me, looking like that. “I’ll be right behind you, asshole. Don’t try anything.” She spared a glare for Cadence, too, then moved into the second car.

I touched her bare shoulder—just with the tips of my fingers. “You look good.”

She shivered. “So do you.”

I didn’t. Not next to her. She made me wish I’d cleaned up properly instead of my rock-star version of “formal.” I was in striped suit pants and Converse sneakers. I wore a matching jacket but wore a black Metallica t-shirt beneath it. And my hair was its usual riot of messy black waves.

“Get in.” I let her climb into the limo ahead of me and sit across from me, in Sloane’s now-vacated spot.

I couldn’t stop looking at her.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked. Cadence lifted her camera. “Very ready.”

That was just the reminder I needed to shake me out of my daze.
Confront her now, or later?

Later. I wanted to enjoy the evening first—and I wanted her to enjoy it, despite what I now knew.
It’s not like I’ve never been in the gossip rags before. No such thing as bad publicity in my line of work, anyway.

“Did you think about me last night?” I asked.

“Maybe,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “Did you?”

“Fuck yes.” I didn’t elaborate. I was afraid she’d blush so hard that her face would melt.

I tried to imagine the girl before me working with that cutthroat gossip crowd—the biting writers, the vulture-like paparazzi. The image just didn’t fit.
Maybe Kelly was wrong
.

My phone buzzed with a text. I was tempted to ignore it/ but with so much going on, it wouldn’t have been the smartest choice. It was from Sloane.

Nothing on any of the blogs about the breakup Find out if she sold the photos or if she’s sitting on them [Sat 08:30]

There was no tasteful way to go about fishing for that information, but I wasn’t exactly the most tasteful guy. “Do anything with those breakup photos yet?” I asked, opting for bluntness. I didn’t love being rude but she would forgive me.

“Breakup photos? No.” She shook her head as if she was confused. “Why?”

I shrugged, keeping my face casual. “Thought they would have appeared on the Internet by now.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want anyone to see them.” She smiled. “I did print out one of the piano pictures I took, though. You looked so… intense.”

“Yeah?”
Interesting.

The limo pulled to a stop a moment later. Cameras flashed through the tinted windows. They wouldn’t be able to see us inside but they were so eager for a photo that they couldn’t stop their itchy trigger-fingers. “You ready for this?” I asked.

“Nope!” she said brightly, “But let’s do it anyway.” She looked pale. I knew from the night before that the girl had stage fright or something, but she didn’t let it stop her, so I wasn’t going to call attention to it.

I flung the door wide and stepped out first. I had to squint against the onslaught of flashes. People called my name to either side of the carpet, behind the ropes, but I ignored them. Reaching down, I helped Cadence step out of the limo.

“Who’s the girl?” multiple voices demanded. She clutched her camera and smiled a tight smile up at me as we made our slow way to the front door. “Keir! Keir! Tell us who your date is!” I paused and posed out of habit, but I didn’t answer any questions. Sloane could fill them in later, if they really wanted to know. I just wanted to get her inside and keep Cadence to myself.

I led her through the front doors and into the ballroom where the dinner was taking place. It looked like every other dull event I’d attended that year, with multicolored lights, linens draping from the ceiling, tall flowers everywhere, and I whisked us straight toward our assigned table. Cadence, though, was enthralled.

“It’s fancier than any wedding I’ve been to,” she said. “Is everything always like this?”

“I guess,” I said. I thought the whole thing was overdone to death. I could see how someone would be impressed by the sheer size of everything, though. The expense of it all.

It felt more about showing off than collecting money for charity, if you asked me.

But I kept my shitty opinions to myself. Cadence was snapping photos and positively beaming, lighting up the room without even realizing it. I rested a hand on her bare shoulder and asked, “Want a drink?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning into my touch.

I turned to flag down a waiter.

Instead, I came face to face with the last person I wanted to see that night. Or any night again, ever.

Kelly.

CHAPTER FIVE

Cadence

I was in a state of absolute disbelief. It had started when Keir’s stylist appeared at my little apartment, shooed away my two roommates, and dressed me up in such a way that I barely recognized myself.

I looked glamorous. I looked
hot
. “This is amazing,” I said, twirling in a circle in the bathroom mirror. My apartment didn’t have a full-length, but I’d be able to check the rest of myself out in the mirrors in the lobby of my building.

Not only did he send his stylist, he sent his car. No negotiating car usage with the roommates—who were also car mates—and no calling a cab or trying to navigate the bus system. I got to ride in a comfortable town car and then in Keir’s limo. A limo! I’d never ridden in a limo, not even for my high school prom.

It really was a different world that these celebrities lived in.

Keir looked amazing when I finally joined him. Cleaner than the night before but still every bit a bad boy musician. The only thing he was missing was an instrument or a microphone.

I floated through it all like I was on a cloud—the red carpet, the fancy venue, all the beautiful people we saw inside… I should have known that something would come along and burst the bubble.

“Kelly.”

Keir’s ex, as of the night before. I couldn’t imagine she’d be too thrilled to see me there with him, and wished that the floor would open up beneath me and let me drop out of view.

Instead, I did what I always did to avoid facing reality. I took a picture.

And why the heck not? The woman was gorgeous. Even as dressed up as I was, I felt like a troll next to her.

“Keir,” she said, holding her nose in the air like royalty. “Did you forget that you invited me?”

“Did you forget that I
un
invited you?” he asked, angling himself in front of me.

“Is that her? My replacement?” I hid my face behind his shoulder but I could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Get the hell out of here,” he said, but she ignored him and shouted at me over his shoulder.

“I know who you work for, bitch!”

Keir’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, and I know, too. So take whatever big, obnoxious scene you’ve got planned and shove it up your ass.”

He knew? I felt sick.
I knew I couldn’t get away with this!
He’d find out how I’d managed to score myself a photographer’s pass, and…
oh, God
… he’d think that I was trying to gather dirt on him, wouldn’t he?

“It was the only job I could get,” I whispered. I didn’t even like working for
Snap Sparkle Pop
. I’d graduated with no idea how to get a photography career started, so I’d sent my résumé to every vaguely related job posting and hoped for the best.

Would this even be good gossip, anyway? Keir was well-known, though he wasn’t a huge household name outside of rock fans. And Kelly… well, everyone liked gossip about a model—that much I knew.

But this was just a breakup; it wasn’t a scandal. I didn’t have anything worth selling on them, even if I’d wanted to try.

“Well, bitch?” she snarled around Keir’s arm, trying to get in my face. “What do you have to say? That’s what you’re doing, right? Spying on us for your stupid fucking blog?”

My vision flashed red. Having a pretty face didn’t give her the right to shout at me like that. “You’re not that important,” I snarled, my anger getting the best of me just long enough for me to mouth off.

Keir’s shoulders shifted and I thought I heard him snort. Her face just turned bright red.

“Good fucking luck,” she spat at Keir, then turned on her heel and stalked away.
Just like last night
. Heels clacking, hips swaying, almost like she’d practiced her exit numerous times.
She probably has
.

I nearly jumped when Keir started laughing. “ ‘You’re not that important’?” he said, turning to face me.

“Are you mad?” I asked, clenching my jaw.

The lights flickered before he could answer, and his face fell into something unreadable. “We should sit. Speeches are starting.”

“Oh. Okay.” I had no idea how these things worked. Whether he was angry or not, he pulled out my chair for me.
Gentlemanly. Another surprise. God, I hope I didn’t blow this thing
. I’d been so looking forward to the night. It never even occurred to me that my job would come up, though I should have expected it. No one was more dangerous than a jealous ex.

I shot him worried glances all through the welcome speech from the charity’s president. I should have been paying attention. I should have been checking out all the other celebrities in the room—hell, the ones sharing our table.

But Keir was frowning at his phone and ignoring everything around him. Kelly was at the next table, shooting daggers with her eyes. The night was ruined.
And it’s my fault.

I quietly snapped some pictures so that the time wouldn’t be a total waste. Disappointment made my camera heavy in my hands. I sighed and lowered it to the table as the speech ended and the crowd applauded. Waiters swarmed the room as the lights came back up.

And Keir planted a hand on my shoulder. His touch reignited all the butterflies that had gone cold in my stomach. But I steeled myself for his anger.

“I can’t get her removed. Want to get out of here, instead?”

I turned and I gaped at him. “What?”

He exaggerated each word as his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Do you want to leave?”

“Do you want me to go?” I gathered up my purse.

He laughed, and hope bloomed warm in my chest once more. “No. I’m asking if you want to leave
with me.
”

Oh. Yes. Hell, yes
. I bit my lip and looked around. Kelly’s sour face couldn’t ruin this—not now that I knew that Keir wasn’t angry.

“I’ll stay if you want to,” I said, “I’m not afraid of her. Besides, ooh, champagne’s here!” I thanked the waiter that slipped between us to deliver our glasses.

“Wouldn’t it be rude to leave before it’s over?” I asked. He shrugged. Of course he wouldn’t care. But I did. “We should stay at least through the speeches.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding and sitting back in his seat. “As soon as the last mic is dropped, though, we’re sneaking out.”

“It’s a deal.”

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Keir winked at me as he leaned over and said to the young pop singer seated next to him, “Want to know what she said to Kelly?”

The pretty young girl laughed, fluttering her eyelashes, but Keir’s eyes kept drifting back toward me. “What’d she say?”

“She goes, ‘you’re not that important.’ ”

The girl snorted, then looked around, surprised at the sound that she’d made.

I was having the time of my life. I finally got a good look at the other people we were seated with when dinner was served—an actor and his wife, the famous pop singer, Tracy Stroll, and her date, a songwriter whose face I recognized but whose name escaped me.