Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) (24 page)

Ben snatched the card from me, turning it over. “Only the band’s staying at this hotel,” he said, eyes fixated on the card.

“I know that.” I snatched the key card from his hand and managed to duck out from under the crowd hemming me in.

“When did you check in to the hotel?” a reporter next to me asked.

“How long are you staying with Hayden on tour?”

I couldn’t breathe. Flash. Flash. This was worse than anything I’d dealt with before. Flash. I bolted toward the exit.

“Hey! You can’t leave now.”

Oh, yes, I could, and I was. Albeit slowly. The crowd was larger, maybe triple the size of when I’d arrived. Moving back through the melee was nearly impossible. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the headlines for tomorrow’s papers, but with the crowd of reporters here, I knew I’d be humiliated. Again. Especially now that Hayden hadn’t answered my text.

He’d made his point.

I’d misunderstood. Somehow, I’d gotten our relationship wrong.
Sandwiched between two groupies.

An image I’d never, ever get out of my head. I swiped at another tear. So much for my grand gesture.

Finally, I could see the exit. I sucked in another breath. My credit cards and passport were tucked into my purse. I’d go home, crawl into bed with Princess, and never get out again.

H
ayden

“
M
aybe he’s being told
off about all the passes he’s handed out,” Flip said, raising his chin to indicate Ben and Ets, who were in the hall backstage. I saw Ets take a pass from Ben before he glanced in at us then walked down the hall toward the side entrance of the venue.

“Picking up another woman, more like,” Jake said, his voice laced with disgust. “Mila leaving like that hurt him, sure, but he’s become a complete man-whore.”

I shrugged. “Keeps him from bothering me. You haven’t seen my phone, right?”

“You already asked. No,” Flip answered.

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. I’d never gone this long without checking my messages, the sites.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the table. We’d be on in about fifteen minutes. Once I got back to the hotel, I’d call Briar again. I needed to hear her voice, for her to give me a reason to continue to fight for us.

The local band opening for us, an indie group called Berg, filed into the room. “People listened to us,” Jonah, the lead singer, said.

“Well, that’s kind of the point.” Flip chuckled.

“We’ve been to plenty of gigs where the audience didn’t even show until the main act went on. This was better.”

“Until that girl started screaming,” Topi said. He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of a woman being molested. The crowd really hemmed her in.”

“Here?” I asked, throwing my empty bottle into the trash. “Did security get involved?”

“One of your security guards was talking to her, but she was upset. Cameras were all over her. Pretty thing.”

“Tall,” Jonah said. “Her dark hair was nice in those big curls. Looked a bit like your girl from the papers.” Jonah raised his chin toward me.

“Couldn’t have been. She’s in Seattle,” I said.

“Glad the show went well for you guys,” Jake said.

I stretched, searching the room once again for my phone. Suspicion nagged me. I glanced back toward the door. “Where’s Ets’s bag?” I asked.

Jake pointed. I went over and opened it. Sure enough, my phone was there, buried under his picks, a T-shirt, and a box of condoms.

“Your brother is a complete wanker,” I said, rising. I turned on my phone and walked toward the door. “He and I are having words.”

“He took your phone?” Jake asked. “Shit. I’m coming with.”

“Hayden, don’t do anything stupid, mate. The press is out there,” Flip said.

I glanced down, a thrill running through me when Briar’s name popped up. I read the message as I walked.

“Bloody hell,” I yelled, and started running.

“What now?” Jake asked.

“Briar’s here. Ets wouldn’t let her backstage.” Jonah had said the screaming girl looked like Briar. Crikey. “If she’s hurt . . . ”

Rounding the corner, I nearly plowed into Ben.

“I didn’t recognize her,” he panted.

“You met Briar out there?”

He nodded. I sidestepped around him and started running.

“She’s crying. I couldn’t get her to come back. She headed toward the front exit.”

“Bloody hell,” Flip shouted.

Exactly. I burst through the doors, Flip following close behind, out into the venue, and immediately saw the group of reporters near the groupie door. Aw, hell. They’d mobbed her. The crowd turned as one to stare at us. Girls started screaming and bodies pressed forward, touching. I craned my neck.

“Briar!” I bellowed. My voice was drowned out by the screaming.

Flip grunted, cursing. “I’m going to the stage.”

I nodded once, pushing my way through the grasping hands, panic pressing hard against my chest. “Briar!”

My shirt ripped at the shoulder, fingernails scored my arm. I kept pushing forward. My eyes scanned the crowd, and I kept yelling for her. This, even for Ets, was too far. She’d been crying. Fear built in my chest, pushing out.

“Briar Moore, if you’re still here, Hayden is trying to find you.”

Ah, Flip was on the stage. Good.

“Anyone seen Hayden’s girlfriend?” Flip asked. “She’s tall, dark hair, blue eyes.”

Realizing I wasn’t out to socialize, people began to step back, letting me through. Everyone craned their necks, searching for her mink-brown hair.

“Briar!” I bellowed.

I scanned the sea of bodies but kept pushing toward the exit. Ben said she was heading toward the taxi station when he’d come backstage. She might already be gone.

I was most of the way through the auditorium now. My insides curdled. She wasn’t here.

Then I saw a glimmer of that mink brown I missed so much. Yes! She walked back into the building. Her dark hair rioted around her head in thick ringlets, her long, athletic legs clad in tight jeans that showed off her trim thighs. As I got closer, her pretty pink lips parted in surprise. Her eyes were damp, the lashes clumping together.

I pushed around a guy in a hoodie and a girl in a tiny red dress and then my palms were on the soft skin of her cheeks. I bent my head, my lips settling over hers.

She opened her mouth, and her taste rushed over my tongue. I moaned, wrapping one of my arms around her hips and pulling her tight against me as my other hand speared into her hair. I kissed her and kissed her, drunk on her essence.

Finally, I was whole.

“All right now, Hayden. You have a different kind of show to put on tonight.” Flip’s voice. Through a mic. Right-o. I was on the floor of a music venue surrounded by at least two thousand people. Flip stood on the stage, smirking.

This wasn’t the place for the kind of kissing I needed, much as I wanted to continue. With one last moan, I pulled back slowly, loving the way my lips clung to hers.

“You’re here,” I said. My voice was raw, pulsing with lust.

She blinked up at me. I wiped my thumbs under her eyes, clearing away the smudged mascara.

“Supposed to be a surprise.”

I leaned my forehead against hers. “The best one.” Unable to resist, I placed a soft, chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. She shivered.

“Ets said you were with two women,” Briar said, her voice uncertain.

“How could I be? All I can think about is you.”

I pulled back and the crowd around us roared its approval—stamping feet filled the auditorium. Some people whistled, others catcalled. I didn’t have to look to know Briar’s face was suffused in color.

“This turned out to be more challenging than I’d expected,” she said as she snuggled into my side. I smiled, everything clicking into place. This, now, this wasn’t a moment I’d forget.

“Stick with me, love. I’ll keep life interesting.”

“You always do,” she said, tipping her face back to smile at me. I kissed her again and the crowd clapped and screamed.

I glanced around, unsurprised to see reporters closing in around us. Briar raised her eyebrow a little at my gaze and sighed.

“They surrounded me,” she said.

“We didn’t get much of a story,” one of the men grumbled.

“Love doesn’t sell many newspapers,” another said.

“Why can’t someone get high? Or smash things. We need another Liam Gallagher. He was interesting.”

Briar shook her head, a wry smile flipping the corners of her mouth. “Thank God. I plan to be really boring for a long time.”

“I’m as boring and in love as they come,” I said, kissing her under her eye, in my spot.

The crowd began to roar, “Briar’s song! Briar’s song!”

The chant got louder, more demanding. I pulled her forward, toward the stage. Briar balked, shaking her head frantically, but I kept pulling her up toward the stage. I boosted her up onto the raised platform and followed. I grabbed her hand and bowed deep, laughing when Briar curtsied.

When the noise reached an even higher level, her eyes sparkled and her mouth twisted up in a mischievous grin.

“This is kinda fun,” she said.

“I’ll make a performer out of you yet.”

She rolled her eyes, the grin growing on her face. “That’s a no.”

I positioned her on the end of the piano bench, farther from the crowd. I shucked my button-down, shaking my head when Harry offered another. I threw the ripped shirt into the screaming crowd. Briar’s big blue eyes widened as I untucked my black T-shirt before sliding onto the piano bench next to her. “Never stripped onstage before,” I said with a wink. “Or played with a woman on my bench.”

She smiled, her eyes as soft as her mouth. “I missed you,” she whispered as I positioned the mic.

“The song is called ‘Between Breaths,’” I told the crowd. Picking up Briar’s hand, I pressed a kiss to her palm. “And this one’s for you, love.”

Being onstage with Briar here was a different kind of high. Flip hit his drum kit hard and I smiled. Jake raked through his chords, charging in on his bass while Ets held a long, powerful note. I leaned into the mic, singing the words I’d been holding in.

The guys revved on my energy and it spilled over into the crowd, feeding back to us. This was what a concert was supposed to be.

B
riar

A
fter the song
, I slipped off the piano bench and headed to the side. Hayden’s gaze followed my progress, but his fingers never missed a key or a note. I shook my head, and he winked. So I blew him a kiss.

“Sorry about earlier, Ms. Moore.” The security guard who’d taken my pass rubbed his hands over his bald head. “Hayden’s going to kill me, no doubt there. At least fire me.” He shrugged. “I didn’t recognize you.”

Nice eyes. Light brown. Not as rich as Hayden’s.

“What’s your name?”

“Ben Carr.”

I extended my hand. He took it carefully, and I knew he wondered if I’d yell or bite or something equally as horrible.

“Nice to meet you, Ben.”

His thin lips curled up, sardonic and apologetic all at once. “You don’t mean that. But I appreciate the thought anyway.”

He let go and stepped back. I realized why when I noticed Hayden glaring at him. I crossed my arm over my body, clasping my far elbow.

“Why don’t you tell me more about the situation?” I asked.

“Not much to tell. Your tag—or at least one like it—black markets for about ten G’s. The girls who get ’em think they’ll automatically get one of the guys to, er, you know, do stuff together.”

I bit back a smile. “They expect sex?”

He swallowed hard, his whole head turning red. “Most of the time.”

“So your job is to keep the groupies from the band.”

“In a nutshell.”

“I’m not a groupie,” I said.

“No, ma’am. That’s why Hayden’s going to kill me.”

“Ets said Hayden
was
with groupies,” I said.

Ben snorted. “Hayden hasn’t been interested in a woman since he came back from Seattle. That’s another reason why I figured your tag was black market.” He shook his head. “I shoulda realized it was you. I’m so sorry.”

I turned back to watch Hayden, relief at Ben’s confirmation easing the last of my concerns. “I’ll worry about Hayden as long as you keep the other women away from him.”

“He does a good job on his own.”

I smiled at Ben’s reply. Harry, Hayden’s manager, came over and offered to take me to the front row, but I declined. I stood there for the rest of the concert, happier each time Hayden glanced my way. The band nailed their songs, and they came off the stage euphoric.

“Best show yet!” Flip said, man-hugging Hayden, Jake, and even Ets. Jake’s smile was wide, guileless, but Ets . . . I shivered as a cobra-like darkness uncoiled in his eyes.

“Good show,” I said to Hayden.

“Better with you here.” Hayden kissed me near my eye, in that spot that drove me wild. I shivered and laid my head against his sweaty chest. He nodded his thanks when Harry handed him a fresh T-shirt.

The fans were screaming, worked up into a frenzy from the last few fast-paced songs. Need filled the space, a sharp hunger for more of their talent. They’d go back out in a minute, and I’d be right there, watching and listening.

“It was excellent,” Flip agreed. “Right, Ets?”

“Like Flip said, best show we’ve put on yet,” Ets said on a sigh. “Hayden was on fire.”

“Which is why you’re not going to take his phone or try to undermine his relationships anymore,” Jake growled. “Because if you do, I’m leaving the band, too.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ets said, eyes narrowing.

“I would,” Flip said. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark and hard, Flip was intimidating. “Hayden’s made it clear he’s staying for us—Jake and me. So the question is, are you going to get your head out of your arse and start paying attention to the people around you?”

“Right-o.” Ets snapped his mouth shut, nodded twice. He turned to Hayden and me, took a deep breath, and met my gaze. Then he lifted his head to face Hayden.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have messed with your relationship or your girl.”

Something made me wonder if this was all about jealousy. No, I didn’t think so. I could tell Ets had been hurt. Badly. It was something in those blue-gray eyes.

Hayden tightened his arms around me. “You stay away from Briar. Me, too, and we’ll be fine. I told Flip and Jake I’d finish out the tour. But don’t push your luck.”

Ets dropped his head. “Got it. Let’s finish this. I need a drink.”

He walked back onstage, picked up his guitar, made faces at the audience. The consummate performer. Hayden grabbed my wrist and pulled me down a hall.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private,” he growled.

“You have to go back on!” I struggled to keep up with his long strides. He led us to the back of the building and through the large metal entrance doors.

As soon as the doors shut behind us, his body pressed against mine. I’d missed the feel of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders, the way he pushed his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place with such ease.

“Hayden, what’s this about?”

“I told you, I have important words to say to you. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want you to doubt me. Not again.”

“What do you want to say?” I asked. I loved looking at his face. I pushed a damp caramel wave off his equally sweaty forehead.

He leaned in, pressing kisses to the tip of my nose, my jawline, below my ear. I gripped his forearms for support. “That I love you. I need you. I think about you all the time. I need to tell you about my mum. Why my dad and I left Seattle. Why I love the piano. You’re the one I want to share that with.”

“You’ll travel for your job. I don’t want you to change for me, Hayden.”

“I won’t. Not sure I could, really. But, fair dinkum, Briar, you make me
want
things. And whatever I have to do to make that happen, I’m all in.”

“Even with an old woman like me?” I asked. The comments about our age difference, all twenty months of it, were cruel. Toward me. I was too old for someone as attractive and talented and famous as Hayden Crewe, so said the media.

“My dad was more than thirty years older than my mum. Granted he died before her, but only by a couple years. And they didn’t have the best of relationships. Okay, they’re a bad example. But what I’m saying is relationships come in lots of different flavors. For me, you’re it. You fill me up and make me love living.”

He pressed a kiss to my nose and I smiled, snuggling my cheek into his chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this content. Probably because I’d been too young to remember.

“Rosie left me money. A lot of money.”

“Yeah? That’s great.”

“I want to set up a support group in Seattle for people like you—who are struggling to deal with a loved one’s death.”

Hayden nuzzled into my neck, nipping my earlobe. “You’ll be amazing at that. Suits you.”

“I can get my degree from any university, and I will, as long as I can be near you. We can talk about my plans more. Later. But I wanted you to know I don’t mind about the paparazzi as long as I get to be with you.”

“Sweet Briar, I just professed my undying love. Of course you get to be with me. Always. That’s all I want.” He stroked that callused thumb down my cheek, over my chin, resting it there, right in the small cleft. “I love you.” He leaned forward, his lips a mere breath from mine.

I slid my fingers up into his hair, tugging his mouth down to mine. “I love you, too. God, I love you so much.” And I kissed him the way I’d been dreaming about: long and deep and so perfectly slow.

“Hayden, you’re on. Oops! Sorry, mate,” Harry’s voice was sheepish. “You gotta get back out there.”

Hayden’s arms slid from my shoulders, down to my waist, farther down to my butt, which he cupped in both his hands. “I will. When I’m finished kissing my girlfriend.” He glanced at Harry. “Go away.”

“They’re all waiting for you.”

Hayden leaned in, his lips a whisper over mine. My head shifted back, giving him better access.

“No running off with one of the roadies while I’m singing for my tea.”

I frowned. “I’m pretty sure they’d give you a beverage if you need a drink.”

He blinked. “Supper. That’s what you Yanks call it. I’m going to sing for my supper. You’ll wait for me?”

“Always,” I sighed. Hayden took my hand and led me back out, down the hall.

“Knock ’em dead,” I yelled over the din of the crowd as I released my fingers from his.

He winked at me before he turned into the glare of lights. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath.

“Hayden?” He glanced back at me. I blew him a kiss. “For luck. I want an expensive tea.”

His smile, this real one he rarely let others see, was slow, devastating. I melted.

“For you, Sweet Briar, anything.”