She looked up at me and without a word gave me one of those ‘yes?’ expressions.
“Why’d you wear those all night?”
The light was dim backstage, but I watched her face turn pink. She pointed to the headphones around her neck, as if I were asking about someone else’s. “Oh. These? Just wanted to protect my ears. You know.”
She went back to her phone.
But I wasn’t giving up. “But Coral, those are noise canceling headphones. You weren’t just protecting your ears. You didn’t hear any of the concert.”
Such a shame to not let go to the music. I knew she had it in her, I’d seen her let go with Ennis between her legs…
She looked up at me and shrugged. “I could hear… a little of it.”
How could someone work for a rock band and not be into their music?
“Can I take this seat next to you?” I asked, joining her without waiting for an answer.
She still didn’t look up from her phone. Christ, she could hold a grudge.
“Can I talk to you, Coral?” I asked.
She put the phone down. Victory. “Yes?” she said in a dull voice, her eyes cold and pissed-off.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about last night in the bus. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy. I live in this little pretend world and sometimes forget that people play by different rules than we guys do. Not that that’s an excuse.”
She pressed her lips together and looked down, twiddling the backstage badge hanging around her neck. I was dying to slide the wall of red hair obscuring her pretty face out of the way, but I was pretty sure that would be a nonstarter.
“Whatever,” she said, shrugging. “I shouldn’t have been doing… that with Ennis, anyway. I'm here to work. Not have fun.”
Jesus, if this woman didn’t look at me I was going to lose my mind. So, I did something about it.
I put my hand under her chin with the lightest touch and turned her to me in a slow movement. If she wanted to pull away or tell me to fuck off, I wanted to give her that option.
Although, I was hoping she wouldn’t.
In the dim light, her eyes looked like giant pools.
“God, you’re stunning,” I said.
She stiffened, her lips parted slightly.
I could practically hear what was running through her brain.
Don’t do it.
Stop now.
But whatever it was, she sure as hell ignored it.
Holding her pretty face, I pulled her to me slowly, much more gently than the time I’d kissed her in front of the restaurant, when I knew I had only a moment to throw her off with my brazenness.
I touched my lips to hers. At first, she didn’t respond but when I put my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her closer, she kissed me back with the passion I’d seen her exhibit the night before with Ennis.
And it was goddamn hot.
I pulled back and brushed her hair away from her face.
“It’s okay,” she said.
“What is?”
“That you watched. I was just embarrassed. Actually, ashamed that I’d gotten caught.” She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Coral. I know you don’t think you are, but you’re really what every man wants.”
Her head snapped up and she looked at me like I was crazy. “I don’t know about that, Hugh.”
I threw my hands up. “I know what men want. I’m telling you, I know.”
She took my hand off her face, and squeezed my fingers. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re beautiful, too.”
I pressed another kiss to her mouth and looked around. We were the only ones left backstage.
“Hey, everybody’s gone,” I said.
She jumped to her feet in a panic. “Holy shit. Do you think they left us? C’mon,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the door.
When I stopped laughing, I grabbed Coral and pulled her to me. “They can’t leave without us. We’re the band.”
Chapter 27
HUGH
Stone grabbed a plate and began to pile it high with the breakfast food. When Bryan got a load of what Coral had ordered, he’d have a heart attack. He acted like we were still playing dive bars for fifty dollars and had to steal food from the kitchen when no one was looking.
But it was good to have a penny pincher around. God knew Stone, Ennis, and I didn’t care how much things cost.
I had stopped worrying about money with my first royalty check from the record label. It was a crazier feeling than even when our songs began making it to the top of the charts.
Shit started getting real.
For the first time in my life, I had money, an entirely new sensation because my family hadn’t had a pot to piss in when I was growing up. Hell, I’d still been sneaking into movie theaters until just one week before the money started pouring in, that’s how broke I was.
By the time I could buy myself a movie ticket, I could have bought one for everyone else in line, too, if not purchased the whole damn theater if I’d wanted.
Ever hear stories about people whose lives change overnight? Yeah, it was kind of like that. But I wasn’t going to be a loser about it. I paid some bills, bought an expensive pair of new sneakers, and put the rest in the bank. I wasn’t going back to being broke. No fucking way.
If there was one thing I knew about rock ’n roll, it was that you could be on top one day, and it could be all over the next. If that day ever came for me, I’d be ready. I had my own house down the street from Ennis’s. It might not be as big or fancy as his, but it was paid off in full and would be mine forever.
That kind of security was the best thing about Dirty Bandit’s success. For me, anyway.
Not so much Stone and Ennis. They spent their money as fast as it came in. Beach houses, cars, private planes—money oozed through their fingers like water in a rushing stream.
Dealing with the kind of money we were making wasn’t easy. I’d thought I could just put it in the bank and forget about it. But no, there were lawyers and accountants all looking to get their cut in exchange for the various services they offered that someone like me ‘supposedly’ couldn’t live without.
Then there was the guilt. Nothing complicated about that. It was right beside me all the time, like a best friend.
A best friend I didn’t choose. But that’s just the way it was.
I’d left a shitty family situation behind me. They thought I didn’t deserve my success, even though I’d worked my ass off for it. You’d think at some point I’d try to forget about them. They didn’t give a shit about me, so why was I spending my time thinking about them?
If only it were that easy.
When you grow up in a situation like I did, you never completely escape the self-doubts pounded into your head from day one. They become part of you like an ugly scar that just won’t fade.
I did my best not to look back. But every now and then, old memories sneaked up behind me and bit me in the ass.
Hey, I’m over here! Don’t forget me!
When that happened, I’d run my finger over the old lump on my collarbone from a poorly healed break. My dad had thrown me against a wall because he didn’t like how I was looking at him.