Songbird (30 page)

“Fuck.” Nicholas’s face was pained.

“Are you hurt?” I cupped his jaw in my hands.
“Did you hit your head?”

“No. Take your knee off my dick.” His voice
choked when I shifted again.

“Oh.” With a little laugh I climbed to my
feet and looked over at the pale faced security man. “Henry forgot
the child lock.”

“So it appears.” Nicholas rolled to his side
before climbing to his feet. “I want you to kiss it and make it
better.”

“Later.” I checked him over for possible
injury. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Top bunk of a bed is higher than that.” He
rolled his shoulders. “Seriously, kiss it and make it better.”

“Later.” I grabbed his hand and dragged him
into the concert venue. “You have work to do now.

I forgot about the backstage passes for press
until the cameras flashed. I stiffened but Nicholas remained
leaning casually against me. His smile was tight—from the blue
balls probably—but his dimples winked.

“There you are.” Taylor ignored the press and
stepped over. Since his back was to them he rolled his eyes.
“Nicholas, you’re needed for the sound check.”

“Sure.” Nicholas straightened and tugged the
end of my braid. When I looked up frowning he kissed me and pulled
back before I could recover from surprise. He winked as I sent him
a fuming look. I had no doubt that had been caught by some lucky
photographer.

“Songbird, can you show these…” He wisely
swallowed whatever derogatory term he was about to use for the
press at my warning look. “Gentlemen to the best seats in the
house.”

“We’ve got this.” Taylor sent him a thumbs
up. “Get on stage, Nicholas.”

“Press isn’t allowed backstage during the
concert.” I stepped easily into my roll. I would deal with Nicholas
Walker later.

I spent the majority of preshow time politely
sidestepping personal questions, redirecting questions to relate to
Nicholas and the tour, and rapidly building a tension headache.
This was why I changed my name in Nashville. This exact reason.

If I had wanted to discuss my work would I
have bothered trying for anonymity? If I had intended on spring
boarding off Nicholas, wouldn’t it have been a better idea to start
with a bang? Wouldn’t I have announced who I was at the start of
this whole thing if I wanted the publicity for Gracing Production?
These people were idiots.

When the press was ushered out so I could set
up for dinner I collapsed, reclining on the sofa as I closed my
eyes. My head was killing me and my ears were still ringing. Thank
God the show was about to start. Press would be secluded up on the
balcony and I would have some damn peace.

I didn’t hear the door open, but I heard the
chatter of the guys and surprisingly Taylor and the Five. I didn’t
move. I didn’t have the energy to move right then.

The sofa dipped and a familiar weight pressed
me into the cushions. I sighed and shifted enough to slide a hand
into Nicholas’s back pocket. He chuckled and wedged arms around me
to hold me in a horizontal hug. His breath tickled my cheek.

“You look pale and worn out.” He nibbled my
jaw.

“Tension headache.” I turned my head enough
to brush our mouths together. “Go eat. I’ll be fine.”

The headache bordered on migraine and that
worried me a little. I hadn’t needed an Imitrex since leaving New
York. Was my prescription even still valid after all this time?
God, I hoped my head didn’t get that bad.

“Cancel the backstage passes for Dallas.” He
kissed my temple when I turned my head back.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like seeing you tired and
pale with a tension headache.”

“Doing my job isn’t always going to be
pleasant, Nicholas.”

“All right, let’s try it this way. Because
seeing you tired and pale pisses me off and I’m less likely to be
polite.”

“You have to play nice.” My scolding lacked
any real irritation.

“No. I don’t fucking have to play nice. You
do. And I’m more than happy to leave that to you. But upsetting you
upsets me. Cancel the passes, Songbird. We can go a couple of shows
without people breathing down our necks.”

A cold cloth was suddenly pressed to my head.
The chill helped against the building pain and I sighed in relief.
“Thanks.”

The Dallas press was important, sort of. He
wasn’t doing interviews in Dallas; that’s why the passes had been
issued to begin with. I wasn’t sure if I had the strength at the
moment to argue with Nicholas. Even with the cold cloth my head
pounded with ferocity. Sometimes arguing with Nicholas wasn’t worth
it.

“I’ll make the phone calls after dinner with
follow up emails.” I waved a hand vaguely after a moment. “To
cancel the Dallas passes.”

His lips pressed lightly against my cheek.
“Thank you.”

The arm of the sofa where my head reclined
dipped as Juliette sat. “She won’t be able to eat with a headache.
She’ll just throw it up. Henry says there’s a deli down the street
that serves soups. Henley and Fitz went down to see if they could
get something gentle for flower power’s stomach.”

Downside of family—they knew everything.
Still, with a cold cloth pressed to my head and a comfortable,
familiar weight pressed against me it was hard to complain.
Much.

After the meal I did something I hadn’t done
in years. I sat at the spinet piano in the corner of the dressing
room voluntarily. I needed to let the tension out before the
headache became a migraine of epic proportions.

The guys were cleaning up and changing into
stage clothes. They tossed banter around like they normally did but
I tuned it out. I focused inwardly and let my hands run scales as I
gathered everything that needed to come out. What poured from me
was violent, angry and more than a little disturbing. I let it all
purge, holding nothing in. By the end I was shaking and sweating,
but calm and cleansed.

I didn’t realize the room had gone silent
until my breathing evened out completely. Turning sideways on the
bench I studied all the wide eyes and stunned faces. I ran a hand
over my hair and rubbed the back of my neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you
guys,” I spoke the floor, unable to meet their startled gazes.

A notebook fell into my lap and I frowned at
the hasty markings.

“I think I got it all.” When I looked up at
him, Nicholas was smiling. “It was hard to do as fast as you were
going but I’m pretty sure it’s all there.”

Music. My music. Lifting the notebook for a
better look, I slowly thumbed through the pages. Somehow having
someone else write while I played had never occurred to me. I would
have written a lot more music if I had. On occasion I set up a
recorder, but that had mostly been on melancholy days.

“That wasn’t country.” Arc stretched his arms
over his head.

“No, it wasn’t.” I studied the music.
Silently I accepted the pencil Nicholas held out and began cleaning
it up.

Arc linked his fingers and dropped his hands
to the top of this head. “We’re country boys; maybe next time you
can play something country.”

“I liked it.” Max nodded. “Different, with
more panache then we normally have.”

Someone knocked before pulling the door open.
Taylor stuck his head in. “Show time, guys.”

Nicholas held out a hand that I accepted,
rising to my feet. He dropped his head and rubbed his cheek against
my hair. “You gonna kiss me for luck?”

“I think you’re a pretty lucky guy already.”
I pulled away with a laugh.

His eyes glowed with wicked humor. “You’re
probably right. Kiss me anyway?”

I rolled my eyes. “Since you asked so
nicely.” I teased him with a light caress before walking towards
the door. “Curtains up, Walker.”

He caught the end of my braid and before I
could evade pulled me back in to devour my mouth. A ball of fire
and need consumed me. I clutched at his shirt to keep my knees from
buckling.

“I’ll finish this later.” He bit down on my
lip before pulling back.

“Don’t make me get the belt, Walker.” I
stared up into his eager face.

A devilish humor swirled with the passion in
his gaze. “We haven’t tried that yet. If you spank me, I get to
spank you back.”

Taylor cleared his throat. “Can you finish
the foreplay later? There’s a concert to perform.”

Nicholas pulled away and scowled at Taylor.
“Don’t be jealous.”

Taylor shrugged and I didn’t like the grin
that split his face. “Can’t be jealous when she was mine
first.”

Nicholas stalked over and I rushed to grab
his arm before he swung the white knuckled fist.

“Stop. Stop. Nicholas you know he’s my oldest
friend. You know this.” I pulled him around Taylor. “Taylor will
always be my oldest friend. There’s no changing that. You need to
remember whose bed I’m spending my nights in.” I gave him a pointed
look. “And whether or not you want that to continue.”

Nicholas turned his angry eyes to mine.

I squeezed his arm. Enough was enough. “I’m
not going to be with someone who sees my friends as enemies.”

“Ultimatum, Songbird?”

I jerked my chin.

Nicholas pulled his arm out of my hand when
the crowd roared. “I have a show to perform.” He stalked away
without another word.

“Temperamental bastard.” Taylor watched his
retreating back.

I snapped around to give him a hard glare.
“You need to be nice too. Stop goading him. You know his
temper.”

Taylor didn’t look the least bit remorseful.
“I haven’t decided if he’s good enough for you. Until I do, I’ll
continue to test him.”

“You don’t have that right.” I crossed my
arms.

“Bella, my flower,” Taylor placed both hands
on my shoulders and looked directly at me with serious eyes, “I am
the only man on this planet that has that right. We both know
it.”

I sighed and dropped my head to his shoulder.
“It’s only temporary. I don’t know why you have to be so damn
mean.”

“Oh,
bella
.” Taylor kissed the top of
my head. “Have you been paying attention? Have you looked at
him?”

“I do look at him.” I shifted my feet and
moved my arms around him in a hug. “I can’t stop looking at
him.”

“Look closer.” Taylor suggested.

The conversation wouldn’t stop replaying in
my mind. I didn’t like that Taylor had the power to make me
question everything I’ve done. I pulled it apart and picked at it
even as I cleaned up music, watched Nicholas and monitored the
activity on stage. I didn’t need this kind of distraction.

The music was probably the angriest I’d ever
composed. There was underlying pain, and sadness. The damn thing
was depressing and I should toss it away, but Nicholas had taken
the time to write it down for me.

With something close to panic rising in my
stomach I flipped to blank scores and pondered for a moment before
letting my heart do the writing. I needed something calmer,
sweeter. Something that could compare to Nicholas’s sweet tooth.
Sappy even. I had no idea what I’d do with it when I was done. With
either of them. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to the life of
composer and playwright.

My anonymity was gone, the tour would be over
in four weeks and I had no idea what I was going to do when we made
it back to Nashville. My focus should be on the tour and instead my
mind wandered into what about me mode? Everything was coming to a
head more quickly that I wanted and some of those problems needed
to be wiped away before they became life altering.

“You’re wearing your serious face.”

I smiled but didn’t look at Juliette. “Why
aren’t you on the panel?”

“Fitz kicked me off the monitors. He’s
running lights and monitors right now. It’s a small show.”

A glance out to the stage confirmed Nicholas
sat on a stool playing acoustically. Because it was Juliette, I
could speak without worrying about sounding like an idiot. “My life
is going to hell.”