The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7) (11 page)

“What?” she asked me innocently. “He can tell me no if he’s not interested.”

With another laugh, Asher managed to extract his fingers from hers. “Your buddy here saved our ass tonight,” he said, obviously having no clue what Jodi had just requested. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if we hadn’t found Sticks to join the band. He has some wicked talent.”

“Oh, I
know
!” Jodi looped her arm through mine and pulled me close with a proud smile. “Remy’s played drums since we were running around in diapers together. She’s amazing.”

I stopped breathing as Asher blinked. When I pinched her where no one would see, Jodi jumped and let out a squeak of alarm, her eyes going wide. “I mean, he.
He’s
amazing.”

“Damn, girl.” I pulled away to send her a censorious glare. “How much have you had
to drink
tonight?”

Jodi gave a nervous laugh, her eyes glassy with panic. “Too much.” She turned back to Asher and gulped. “Obviously.”

Asher grinned at her but just as quickly turned to me. “Hey, whenever you have a second, I want to introduce you to the guys I work with.”

He was looking right at me, so I guess he was talking to me. I bit back a wince, a little wary of meeting too many more people in this mask. It was a great guise, but I didn’t much care for the nip of guilt that came with deceiving more people.

But Asher was still looking at me, and his green eyes were so captivating. Damn gorgeous green eyes.

I ended up nodding and saying, “Sure. Okay. Whenever.” So he started to lead me toward the bar, and I guess
whenever
was right then. Mierda.

 

 

 

I don’t know how many times we were stopped by fans, wanting to hug Asher, kiss him, or just touch his shirt. Some were too reluctant to actually make contact but still hovered, crowding as close as they dared and making our trek to the bar seem like the Boston Marathon.

Mostly he was vague and distant with everyone, smiling with them and then setting them an arm’s length away once he let them have a hug.

We were only about five feet from our destination when a pretty little blonde squirmed her way through the people to reach him, screeching, “Asher!”

He broke into the biggest grin and swept his up into her arms, kissing the side of her head.

I have no clue why that bothered me. I barely knew this guy, and feeling all possessive of someone just because I thought he was hot totally wasn’t my style. Hell, I hadn’t even blinked an eyelash when female fans had frenched Fisher right in front of me...when I’d been engaged to him. Yet the urge to pull blondie off Asher by way of all that pretty pale hair hit me hard.

Maybe because he looked so happy when he gazed at her. I liked it better when he smiled at shit
I
said. “Hey, beautiful,” he called over the noise into her ear. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

I was mentally trying to nitpick his girlfriend’s looks apart, but dammit, not finding a single flaw about her, when he turned her my way.

Oh, joy, I realized. I was going to get introduced to the perfect specimen.

“Sticks, this is Caroline.”

I lifted an eyebrow as I glanced at him. “The reason we played ‘Sweet Caroline’
tonight? Twice.”

He grinned back. “The very.”

Turning to her, I opened my mouth to lie and tell her how
nice
it was to meet her when someone shouted our way. “Okay, fucker. Enough kissy, huggy time. Hands off. Now!”

I glanced over to catch sight of a guy behind the bar giving Asher the finger.

Curious why he was so irate, I asked, “Who’s that?”

Asher’s grin grew as Caroline slipped away from him. “Caroline’s husband.”

My eyebrows spiked in surprise, and yes, a little ball of relief welled in my gut. After I watched Caroline skip up to the bar to kiss the man still flipping off Asher, I frowned Asher’s way. “So you were flirting with her because...?”

He chuckled. “Because it’s fun as shit to fuck with Ten. Seriously, you should try it.”

He nudged me forward until I was standing where Caroline had been, because she’d already flitted away to talk to a brunette and a redhead about twenty feet down the counter.

“So that’s your wife, huh?” I asked, taking in the guy Asher had called Ten. When I met his gaze, I was surprised to see half his face was scarred. Ouch.

Glancing longingly after Caroline, he nodded. “I know, right? I’m a lucky-ass bastard.”

I let out a low whistle. “I’ll say, because holy shit...she’s got a sweet ass. I bet every man in this joint would give his left nut to tap that.”

Ten’s smile died flat. “What did you say, motherfucker?”

With a snicker, I nudged Asher in the arm. “You’re right. That
was
fun.”

He choked on the water he’d been chugging from a bottle and ended up spitting some out onto the countertop.

When he started laughing, Ten pointed at me and demanded of him, “Who the fuck is this douchebag?”

“Ten, meet Sticks. Newest member of the band. He’s our drummer.”

“Looks like a dead drummer to me.”

“Oh, leave him be,” Asher told him mildly enough as he grabbed a napkin and wiped away his mess. “I told him to mess with you.”

But Ten was already climbing over the bar toward me, looking determined to maim.

Holy shit
. I lurched in reverse, my eyes bugging with worry. But damn, one night in public, and two guys had already threatened to beat my ass.

Were men always this punchy?

Asher held up a hand and stepped between us. “Relax,” he ordered, his voice harsh. “Sticks is gay. He won’t seriously mess with Caroline.”

Ten jerked to a stop and sent Asher an incredulous glance before he turned back to me and narrowed his gaze into a suspicious scowl. “He didn’t sound very gay with the shit he was spouting about her.”

I held up both my hands. “I am. Trust me. I think you’re hotter than your wife is. Swear to God.” And just because it really had been fun to rile him, I stared after his wife and shrugged. “I mean, sure, she’s got a nice rack and all.”
The perfect shape and size to drive a girl like me absolutely jealous
. “But I’d rather see what you’re packing behind that zipper of yours.”

I turned back to send a meaningful leer to the front of his pants and noticed, huh, dude was sporting a nice-sized bulge. Maybe Jodi had been onto something when she’d made my man panties.

Ready for Ten to go all homophobe on me and tell me to back up off him, I was surprised when he merely grinned. “Hell, yes, you’d like to know.” He pointed to his fly. “This is a one-of-a-kind, grade-A awesome cock, right here.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Asher muttered.

Ten lifted an eyebrow and challenged him with a look. “What? Caroline can’t keep her hands off it. Or her mouth. Her pussy loves it too.” Then he finally narrowed his attention back on me. “And you...don’t even get near it, gay boy.”

Finally getting the response I’d been seeking, I grinned and winked at him.

He frowned even harder. But a split second later, a new grin broke across his face. Nudging my arm, he coaxed, “You think I’m hotter than Hart, don’t you? Come on, you can admit it.”

“Ehh...” Not that I wanted Asher to know just how attracted to him I was, but I kind of gave myself away with the incredulous look I sent Ten. So, since I’d already screwed myself, I just went with it and mildly answered, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

It wasn’t my intention to make Asher uncomfortable, but I just couldn’t lie about this. Too afraid to glance his way and check his expression, I focused my scowl on Ten for putting me in this position.

“Oh, whatever. I have a way better ass than he does.” He turned to let me see his backside.

I looked. I mean, how could I not? A hot guy was purposely showing me his tush bundled up in a pair of jeans, and yeah, he definitely had it going on back there. But even with the nice curvature Ten provided, there was just something about Asher’s cute, tight little buns of steel, framed within his narrow hips, that appealed to me more.

So I said, “No. You really don’t.”

Ten scowled. “Oh, whatever. You suck.”

Next to me, Asher roared with laughter. It was one of those open-bodied laughs where a guy had to tip his head back to let all the sound out. Beyond relieved that he wasn’t bothered by the things I’d just said about him, I grinned his way.

He smiled back and tapped me on the arm. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the guys. Don’t worry, they aren’t quite so...Ten.”

“Which means they’re lame,” Ten called as he hopped back behind the bar and turned to a customer waiting for service.

Asher and I weaved our way to the other end of the bar where a group of couples were gathered, Caroline—who I hated a lot less now that I knew she wasn’t Asher’s girlfriend—included.

“Guys.” He waved his hand, gaining the attention of about half a dozen people. “This is Sticks, the new drummer. I thought I’d introduce all new band members to you from now on, in case he turned out to be related to anyone.”

I glanced at him for that odd comment, but it made the others laugh.

And the finger-pointing began. “That’s Mason and Reese. Mason also works here, but it’s his night off. Same thing with Knox right there. And that lovely thing at his side is Felicity, who is a waitress here. Caroline, you’ve already met. We’re missing three more of the ladies, Eva, Zoey, and Aspen, because they opted to stay home with kiddos this evening. But I think Pick is around somewhere...”

He glanced toward the opening of the back hall before a voice spoke from our left, saying, “Right here.”

Asher and I both whirled that way, and I found a hot man smiling at me with a pierced lip and eyebrow ring.

“Sticks, this is Pick, my...” Asher fumbled a second and grabbed at a piece of his hair as if suddenly uncomfortable. But then he finished, “The, uh, the owner of Forbidden.”

A brief flash of disappointment flickered across Pick’s face before he forced his smile to return.

I held my hand out to him, saying, “Nice to meet you. Awesome place you’ve got here.”

I’m not sure why I shook with him and none of the others, maybe because he was Asher’s boss, maybe because he seemed to give me more attention than the others had, or something in the way Asher reacted to him, but it felt as if he needed more...I don’t know, notice? Respect?

Something stiff and uncomfortable emanated from Asher as Pick thanked me and told me I’d done well on stage. Then Asher was tapping on my arm to pull my attention from his boss. “And this guy is Noel. The other bartender working over there is Quinn, who you sort of met earlier.”

Torn from Pick, I nodded at Noel, who nodded right back. Quinn was at the very other end of the bar in front of a blender making what looked like, oh God...a piña colada. I would die for one of those right about now. Then Quinn went and put a little umbrella in it, along with a pineapple wedge and cherry, and I nearly whimpered.

Piña coladas were my vice.

I was about to go all Jimmy Buffett and start singing about making love at midnight and getting caught in the rain, when Asher told Noel, “Hey, man. Get me an Angry Orchard, will you?” And I suddenly remembered, crap, if I was going to drink anything, it couldn’t be a girly mixed drink like piña coladas.

Could it?

No, probably not.

“We’re out,” Noel called back as he filled a pitcher with Miller Lite at the tap.

Asher scowled. “Are we
really
out, or are you just messing with me?”

“There’s none behind the counter. If you want to go back to the stockroom and see if you can dig up a fresh case of warm ones, be my guest.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Asher turned his gaze my way. “Hey, Remy. You want one?”

I’d never tried the brand before, and I wasn’t a fan of malt liquor, but I couldn’t go drinking a piña colada, and no way could I say no to him for some odd reason, so I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Remy?” Ten repeated with a frown as Asher strolled off. I jumped, surprised he’d appeared out of nowhere on the other side of the counter. Whirling to him, I dragged my stare from Asher’s perfect ass and into Ten’s hazel eyes. “Hmm? Sorry, what?”

He frowned at me, turned his attention to a departing Asher, and then came back to me. “He just called you Remy.”

“Yeah...” I said slowly. “Probably because that’s my name.”

Just as I said that, Jodi reached my side and slung her arm over my shoulder. “Hey, puta. What’d you order me?”

“Well, well, well,” Ten murmured knowingly. “If it isn’t
Jodi
.”

Jodi whirled to him, her gaze immediately heating with interest. “Oh! Hey, Ten,” she purred in her most seductive voice.

Unease stirred through my stomach, but fudge nuggets. If Jodi knew Ten, they’d probably slept together. Shit.

I motioned my finger between the two of them. “You two...
know
each other?”

As I silently begged them both to say no, Jodi licked her lips and skimmed her gaze down Ten’s tight black shirt. “Not as well as I would’ve liked to.”

Ten’s eyes narrowed slightly. “As well as you’re ever
going
to, you mean. I’m married now.”

Jodi’s smile spread slowly. “Hey, that’s fine. I don’t mind if the wife watches.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “I’m actually better when I put on a show.”

“Okay, down girl.” I grabbed her arm and yanked her backward, away from the married bartender. “Try to keep your hands off friends of my new bandmates, especially the married ones,
please
.”

She sniffed out a sound and scowled at me. “Speaking of
bandmates
, that bastard Billy Galloway refuses to give me my panties back.”

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