Storm.
Just thinking his name collapsed my lungs. Even though it had been nine years since we’d parted ways and I had Sophia now, I still missed him. The closeness I’d had with him had never been duplicated with anyone else.
But that was over. It was in the past. Even his own family hadn’t heard from him in years. I needed to learn to let hurt go like Storm had told me to. I needed to let him go, needed to let the music heal me.
“No, he’s all yours,” Sophia said, and it took me a moment to remember who we were talking about.
Oh yeah, the paragon of men, the guitarist.
“Thanks, but I’m a little too busted up tonight to go for it—go for him. So I think I’ll pass.”
“C’mon, Lotus.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been too long since you let loose.”
It had been since my father died, and I had become the sole guardian of my brother, Cork.
“I can’t let loose anymore.” I gave her a firm look.
The steadying influence of Saber was one of the big reasons he held such appeal. He was the opposite of Sophia. With him, it was easier to bury the desire to be anyone but the responsible version of myself.
“You can let your hair down for one night.” Her brow furrowed as she took in my long, efficient work braid. “Fanny has Cork at Ash’s penthouse. He’s in a safe, protected environment. Probably safer there with all their security than your apartment. We’re miles away from home. No one knows us here. LA can be our Vegas. What happens in LA, stays in LA. You deserve an adventure. C’mon.”
She bumped my shoulder like Storm did when he was being playful. “We both deserve a little fun.”
“I just broke up with my boyfriend.” I experienced a heart spasm again just saying the words out loud. It made the situation seem a lot more permanent.
“No better time to have some harmless fun.” She waggled her dark brows.
“I have work tonight.” My protest sounded weak, even to my own ears.
“You don’t have to work all night.”
Considering, I took another sip of my beer, staring straight ahead at the stage rather than at her. I didn’t want her to see how much the breakup with Saber hurt, or how tempted I was to give in, to be carefree. It would be nice not to think about responsibilities and consequences, even if it was only for a night.
“You know I can’t,” I said, knowing it would be too hard to return to being responsible again. Gardening and my poems were the only outlet I allowed myself anymore, and even those weren’t strictly for fun.
“Okay, honey.” Sophia’s expression softened. “I just wish more for you. You know I do. So, this opening band,” she said overbrightly. “What did Ash tell you about them?”
Ashland Keys wasn’t only the co-owner of Outside. He was also the drummer for the world-famous Dirt Dogs. Semi-retired from his band, he worked full time at the label he’d cofounded with his cousin, Lincoln Savage, the lead singer of the Dirt Dogs. Incidentally, Ash was also my boss. Well, he was for tonight, and any other time he needed a special-event bartender.
“Ash says they’re my speed,” I said. “Loud and heavy on the metal like Tempest, and they have double guitarists.”
“That sounds cool.” She nodded reflectively. “Nice of him to give you a break at the beginning of the evening to catch some of the lineup.”
“Not here for the concert. Here to work. He pays me well to bartend for these special events outside of Ocean Beach.”
“Sí, mi flor.” Yes, my flower. “But it’s your birthday,” she said with a frown. “He should pay you triple, considering that.”
“Maybe.” Letting her richly accented voice and her indignation on my behalf wash over me, I set my troubles aside and gave her a smile.
At that moment, the recorded background music stopped. I shifted all my attention to the stage. The house lights lowered, and the stage lights came on.
Ash came out. Strutting confidently across the stage, all blond and blue-eyed with his golden tan, he looked like a typical SoCal surfer. But in his all-season wool slacks and button-down shirt, he was dressed like a business exec.
“You guys having a good time?” Ash asked the audience, his mouth to the center mic.
I clapped enthusiastically like everyone around me. His gaze finding me, Ash smiled. He was awesome. I didn’t tell Sophia, but I would find a way to do these events for him, even if he didn’t pay me as well as he did.
“On behalf of the Dirt Dogs and Outside, I just want to say we’re really glad to have you here tonight. As you know, all the proceeds from ticket sales are being donated to HIV research. But enough of that. We’re here to party and rock hard. And our first band, Black Skulls, will help us get started right.”
He stepped back and moved away as the band filed onto the stage.
The lead singer was hot with his inky black hair and piercing blue eyes. He went to center stage to claim his denim guitar. The Ryan Gosling lookalike drummer hopped onto his drum riser. The colossus that had a guitar strapped to his mammoth shoulder strode stage right. The Dark Knight bassist swooped left.
The drummer took his seat, thrust his sticks into the air, clacked them three times, then brought them down. The lead singer stalled his blue gaze on my bestie. His fingers hovered above the frets of his Martin.
But it was the guitarist beside him who strummed the scintillating opening chord. My gaze moved to him and my heart stopped. His hotter-than-hot brown eyes met mine, melting me into a puddle where I stood.
Everything but him and the heat within his incredible eyes burned away.
Lotus
“A Crown and Coke, easy on the Coke, if you know what I mean.” The Ryan Gosling lookalike bassist from the Black Skulls placed a twenty-dollar bill on the bar in front of me.
“Got it.” From behind the counter, I refrained from rolling my eyes as I poured a double shot of Crown Royal in a plastic cup and added a splash of Coke for color.
“Here you go. But you can keep your money.” I set his drink on the counter and picked up his cash, trying to return it. “Drinks are complimentary.”
“It’s a tip, darlin’. You’re cute, and we’re having a private party with your friend. You should come.”
“I’m working.” It had taken effort, but I’d managed to scrape my gooey body off the floor after having it melted by the guitarist in his band.
“I can see that, but it’s winding down.” He gestured to the large space, like a convention hall, and he was right. What had once been packed by several hundred VIPs had whittled down to about thirty. Most were executive types, closing deals. No one had stepped up to the bar in a while.
“You’re right,” I said. “But—”
“Babe. C’mon. The band needs drinks. We’re VIPs. Bring us a couple of bottles of Cuervo. We’re in dressing room A.” He shoved my hand with his twenty back at me.
I frowned. The drummer might be cute in an I look like a famous actor kind of way, but his manners needed work.
“Sure,” I said sweetly. “Just let me get permission from my boss to make a delivery.”
“Your boss is out in the corridor talking to Journey.” He took a step back with his drink in his hand.