RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance) (52 page)

I looked around to see how other people were reacting. Andi had the entire crowd in the palm of her fucking hand. All eyes, all heads were turned to her with the same expression of mesmerized longing, like a bunch of sunflowers turned toward the sun. I realized that she was the reason people were here. Not the band. Her. She had a talent that was practically radiating from her, the spotlights shining off her blond hair almost like a halo.

Off to one side, a guy standing alone in the crowd happened to catch my attention. He was standing about twenty feet away from our table, next to a cement pillar, hidden behind a slightly taller guy. He was about 5’10”, average looking, with shaggy brown hair. I don’t know why I noticed him, except that there was something about his expression as he watched Andi sing that was different from the others in the crowd. The guy was watching her so intently it was as though he was practically recording her every move in his mind. His eyes never left her, even when others would jostle him or try to get by.

Something in me — maybe long instinct from my time as a Stone King — told me to keep an eye on him, and after a few minutes I saw him sink back behind the pillar and into the crowd. I left my drink on the table and went after him, but by the time I pushed my way through the people to where he had been standing, he was nowhere to be seen. I followed the most likely path for him to have taken, past the bar toward the front entrance, but he was gone. Frowning, I told myself he was probably just some frustrated basement-dweller with a harmless crush on Andi. But all the same, I tucked the memory of his face away for future reference, just in case.

I
t was
one of the best performances we’d ever done.

Something about the energy of the crowd — my hometown crowd, with my people — just felt so right, the band was
on
. Every number we did went off without a hitch. It felt like such the perfect show to finish up our gigs at Hammie’s before we moved on to a regular Saturday night gig at the Oasis in Denver.

As we packed up our shit after the show, my band members were practically buzzing with energy. “Jesus, we were fuckin’
on
!” Kai, our drummer, enthused. “Your vocals on “Burn the House” were smokin’, Andi!”

“No shit,” agreed our lead guitarist, Ash. “I can’t believe we haven’t done a recording of that song yet.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to do that soon,” Emmy said. “How about we offer that as an exclusive single to our tribe? Even a demo, maybe. I like the raw feel of when we do it live better than I probably would with an overly-mixed studio version.”

“Hmm… You might be right about that,” I replied. “But maybe with the little flute lick that Carter put in that one time when we were fucking around. I really like the way it responds to the melody. So unexpected.”

We continued to talk about next steps as we got everything together and brought it out back to Carter’s van. We loaded everything up and Carter said he’d just take it all back and leave the van in his garage until practice Monday night. The five of us hugged and high-fived, and then Emmy, Kai, Ash, and I headed back into the bar. Carter headed home to his girlfriend and their new baby.

Back inside Hammie’s, I went immediately to the table where Seton and our group were waiting for me. My stomach did a little flip in spite of myself when I saw that Cal, Seton’s brother, was still there with them. I knew he was only there because Seton had asked him to be, but still, it had been nice to momentarily fantasize that it was me that he had come to see.

“Hey!” Seton cried as I walked up to them. “Congratulations! Oh, my God, you guys were
amazing
!”

“Thanks, See!” I grinned as she hugged me. Coming from her, the compliment felt genuine. She had been to a ton of our shows in the past, and I had always made her promise to tell me how she thought things went afterward. Seton was one of the few people in the world I felt I could really trust to tell me the honest truth. Friends like that are pretty damn rare. Or in my personal experience, almost non-existent, except for her.

The others at the table raised their glasses to congratulate me, too. Carly had come down from Denver for the weekend, and she told me she was excited to come see me play at our new gig at the Oasis. Seton’s husband Grey wasn’t there, but a couple of the other guys from the Stone Kings were there with their girlfriends. Cherish was there with her tall, brooding man Levi, and Evie, whom I was just getting to know, was there with Trig. All of them seemed to genuinely like the show, even the guys, which was pretty cool.

But the one person whose opinion I really wanted to know was the one I was most nervous about asking.

“So,” I finally turned to Cal when the conversation had moved on to something else. “Hope our set wasn’t too boring for you.”

I found myself using the teasing tone I often used when I was in his presence. The tone I used to mask the fact that I found Cal Greenlee distractingly, scorchingly hot.

I expected him to reply in the same bantering tone that he usually used with me, but he surprised me. Leaning in slightly to be heard over the crowd, he lowered his voice to a low murmur that unexpectedly sent a shiver down my spine. “It was fucking amazing, Andi.
You
were amazing.”

Nothing had prepared me for this moment of sincerity from him. I realized at that moment that every conversation between the two of us had always been completely superficial, artificially playful. It was just how we were together: he, the brother of my best friend, and I, his sister’s bestie. This moment of sudden sincerity, murmured close to my ear in a voice meant only for me, did something totally unexpected to me. It was as though a four-alarm fire had erupted just beneath my skin. My traitorous nipples hardened underneath the fabric of my bra. A flash of warmth sparked between my legs, followed by the beginnings of a dull ache. I risked a quick glance toward him, noticing the soft, sensual curve to his mouth, and before I could stop myself, my own lips parted at the thought of what it would feel like if he kissed me.

Shit
. I needed to get myself together. “Thanks,” I managed to choke out. I took a quick step back and smiled at him teasingly. “I know it’s not your type of music. I hope you weren’t worried your balls would fall off listening to it.” I flinched at my stupid reference to his… uh,
package
. I had meant to be flippant, but now the image of his male anatomy was in my mind.

The words I had just spoken hung in the air between us awkwardly for a moment. Cal’s eyes bored into mine, unreadable. Then, ever so slightly, one side of his mouth curled up. “I’m pretty sure my balls are just fine,” he said in the same low voice.

Jesus. Fuck. Okay.
The ache between my legs grew more urgent. I had to get this conversation back on more comfortable ground,
stat
. “Uh, okay. Great. Good for you.” I literally had forgotten most of the words in the English language. I couldn’t figure out how Cal had managed to completely unhinge me so quickly, in the middle of a crowd of a few hundred people.

“So, your next gig is in Denver, then?” he asked gently.

His voice was the same low, sensual cadence as before, but at least the subject had changed, and I was thankful for the lifeline. “Yeah,” I stammered, clearing my throat. “We don’t play live for a few weeks, until our first Saturday at the Oasis in a month. Should give us some time to work on a few new songs and tighten up our show.”

He nodded. “Maybe I’ll come see you up there sometime.”

“That’d be, uh, great!” I said brightly. My face was flaming red, I was sure, and I resisted the urge to fan myself. “Let me know and I can get you on the list.”

“Sure.” He lifted his chin. “Well, Doll, I’m gonna hit the road. You take care.”

He stood up from his chair. I watched him with a mixture of relief and disappointment as he announced to the others he was taking off. Levi said he’d come with him since they were both on their bikes, and kissed Cherish goodbye, telling her to be careful driving home. Cal shot me a final glance as he turned and headed out of the bar, and I gave him a bright, forced smile that I was sure made me look like a maniac. When he had completely disappeared, I suppressed a deep sigh of relief and took a long swallow of my club soda.
Holy hell
. Talk about awkward.

The rest of us stayed at the bar chatting for about another half hour, and then said our goodbyes. Seton hugged me and congratulated me again as we split up by our cars, and I headed home, my head buzzing with all sorts of emotions. I was pretty sure I was going to have a hell of a time sleeping tonight.

A few minutes later, I pulled my trashed blue Kia up to the apartment complex where I lived, and got out of the car. I raised my hands above my head in a long stretch and breathed in deeply, then exhaled.
What a night
. I slammed the door, not bothering to lock it, and headed up the walk toward my building, trying and failing not to think about Seton’s wild child younger brother.

If I remembered correctly, Cal was two years younger than I was, which would make him twenty-two now. Not that you’d be able to tell he was that young, given his height, his muscular frame, and the scruff of perpetual five o’clock shadow on his jaw. I had known him for almost as long as I’d known Seton, and he had always been sexy as hell but completely irresponsible. I remembered only too well how Seton had despaired of him ever pulling his shit together for the longest time. And how upset she was when he decided to prospect with the Stone Kings. But ironically, See had been forced to admit that Cal had become a lot more responsible because of the club. In a strange way, being part of a brotherhood of men who needed to know they always had one another’s backs had made Cal a better man, Seton said. And as a consequence, it had made him a better brother, as well. Cal and Seton’s relationship had never been better than it was right now.

And then, of course, in spite of all her complaining about the MC, Seton herself had gone and gotten together with Grey Stone. She was now the “old lady” of the president of the Stone Kings MC, a fact that I never tired of pointing out to her. But all kidding aside, I knew that Seton was happier than she had ever been in her life. All you needed to do was spend a few minutes in their company to know that Grey and See just
fit
together. No one who ever saw the way they were would have any doubts that they were the real deal. And now, after months of trying, she was going to have Grey’s babies. Twins, a boy and a girl.

I unlocked my door with a wistful sigh. I tried to push the thought away, but it was no use. As much as I tried to project the image to the world that I didn’t need anyone or anything, a part of me wished that I had what Seton had. I wasn’t too sure about the babies part, true. But the rest of it? I wished I could believe that there was someone out there for me that I’d be able to commit to forever. Someone I just
knew
in my heart, in my soul, was the man for me. Like Seton did. I’d listen to her talk about Grey enough times to see that sparkle in her eyes, the adoring tone in her voice when she described something he’s said or done. Seton was all in for Grey. And judging from the way he looked at her whenever I saw them together, if anything he was even crazier about her than she was about him.

God. I would love it if someone felt that way about me.

But right now, I’d settle for some decent sex, to end the fourteen-month dry spell I’d been in.

Unfortunately, Cal Greenlee was not a good candidate to supply either of those things.

L
ight flooded
my tiny little apartment as soon as I flipped the switch and threw my bag on the small table in next to the door. It was just a studio, with hardly enough room to move around in, but it was the first space I’d ever had all to myself, and it was mine, and that was enough for me to love it. I kept the place meticulously clean, in contrast to the persona of the carefree, live-in-the-moment rocker girl I projected in public. In truth, I was something of an introvert, and this space was my haven, my refuge away from the world.

Which was why, when I saw the small, unassuming scrap of paper lying on my otherwise bare kitchen table, the hair on the nape of my neck lifted in fear. For a moment I stared at it in confusion, then let out a sharp cry as I realized what it was. What it meant.

To anyone else, the stub might not have registered immediately as anything to cause alarm. But that was exactly why it was frightening. That one small piece of paper sent a clear and unmistakeable message to me. It told me that all of the little things I’d been noticing as out of place in my studio over the last few weeks hadn’t been my imagination. That in fact, someone had been in my apartment in my absence, probably many times. And that now, they wanted to make sure I knew it.

With a trembling hand, I reached down to pick up the scrap, staring at the logo I knew only too well: The Hammie’s logo. The one they printed on all the tickets to the shows they charged an entrance fee for.

Below the logo, I read the words printed on the ripped stub of the ticket as a pit of dread opened in my stomach:

Hammie’s Bar presents: The Nopes, with special guests The Creepers.

Whoever had been in my apartment had also been at the Nopes show at Hammie’s tonight. They had been watching me as I performed with my band on that stage.

And they wanted me to know it.