Life On Stage: Beat Part 30

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Lucky

It all happens so quickly. One minute I'm walking back into the bar, Dylan a few angry steps ahead of me, then next I catch sight of a man I've been dying to see, yet suddenly dread being here. I watch the whole thing unravel, unable to stop it. My screams go unheard over the sound of the karaoke song blaring from the speakers.

Flynn registers me, but unfortunately doesn't see Dylan coming. The first punch lands square on his jaw, and I watch in horror as his head whips to the side from the force of the blow.

He staggers back, his hand going to his face, momentarily confused.

"You two f.u.c.king deserve each other. A wh.o.r.e who belongs on stage but doesn't have the b.a.l.l.s, and a wannabe who has more b.a.l.l.s than talent."

"Say what you want about me, motherf.u.c.ker." Flynn's voice is eerily flat. "I probably deserved that first punch. But don't talk about Lucky that way."

Finally pushing past Dylan's hulking security, I scream again for them to stop, just as Flynn's fist connects with Dylan's nose and blood sprays everywhere.

The security team that was just standing there watching the chaos ensue finally jumps in when they see their guy get hit. Mayhem erupts and there's screaming and shouting, but the two men are at least separated.

"Get out!" I point in the direction of the door and scream at Dylan.

"No problem," he sneers, and wipes his nose with a towel one of his security got from somewhere. "Enjoy your f.u.c.king unemployed boyfriend, wh.o.r.e." He storms away, flanked by his guards.

Flynn's chest is heaving, but his eyes are glued to me. I don't know what to say or do. What other havoc could I bring down on this wonderful man? "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Cell phones are snapping pictures a mile a minute and the cops are probably not far away." Flynn's friend Nolan tugs at his arm. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait," Avery shouts. I didn't even realize she was next to me. She tosses something to Nolan and he catches it. "Lucky's place. She'll meet him there in a half hour."

Flynn looks at me. He's hesitant to leave, so I give him a nod of a.s.surance. "Go. I'll meet you there."

Only fifteen minutes later, the bar returns to normal, although there's still a buzz in the air and lots of whispering and staring at me. At least the cops didn't show up.

Avery hands me a shot of a gold-colored liquid. I don't bother to ask what it is. "This is for your nerves." She holds it up and tips her small gla.s.s in my direction. I return the sentiment. As soon as the burning in my throat calms, she takes the gla.s.s from my hands and looks me in the eyes, speaking with a stern tone. "Go home."

I pull her in for a hug, and afterward, she holds my shoulders, her voice apologetic. "I had no idea Dylan would show up."

"I know."

"Now go home and fix things with that mouthwatering man."

I smile and finally take my best friend's advice.

My hand shakes as I put the key into the lock of my apartment door. It's dark, and for a split second, I think he might not have showed. But then I hear his voice.

"So I take it you're not engaged anymore?"

I turn the living room light on and my heart leaps into my throat seeing him sitting on my couch. There's a bruise on his cheek and his jaw is already swollen. "Let me get you some ice."

Seeing as I don't find myself injured often, I don't have an ice pack. So I grab a bag of peas and sit next to Flynn on the couch, holding it to his face. He hisses at the contact. "Hurt?"

"I'll live. Nolan punches harder, and he loves me."

I smile. But when our eyes meet, I see his wariness. "I was never engaged."

His brows furrow. "I saw the pictures. Looked like a proposal and a celebration to me."

"It was. But it wasn't."

He waits for me to explain, rightfully confused.

"I was devastated that you were gone and told Dylan I was leaving. He asked me to have dinner with him to talk. So I did. I felt like I owed him that much. I was beyond shocked when he got down on one knee. I panicked. The entire restaurant was staring at us and he was waiting for an answer."

"So you said yes."

"No."

"Looked like it on the news."

"I actually just pulled him to standing and he hugged me. I never actually responded-but I didn't clarify I was declining either. At least until two hours later when we got somewhere more private."

"So you were really never engaged?" he asks again, like he can't believe it.

I shake my head.

"Why didn't you contact me?"

"Because Dylan told me he'd have you kicked off the tour. I didn't want to hurt your career."

"That was my decision to make."

I chortle. "You sound like Avery."

"Knew I liked that woman."

"And I guess you didn't contact me because you thought I was engaged."

He stares at me and shakes his head. "I wouldn't have let a ring stop me. Dylan told me he'd make sure you lost your job if I contacted you."

I nod. Guess we've both been manipulated.

Dylan's parting words finally register with me. I was so frazzled, I didn't stop to think what it meant when he said to "enjoy your unemployed boyfriend." "I'm sorry. I guess you lost the Easy Ryder tour?"

"Honestly, it's for the best. Even before we met, the guy had it in for me."

I take the frozen vegetables from his face and touch his cheek as I look deep into his beautiful blue eyes. "I'm so sorry. What a mess I've caused."

"I'm not sorry. I don't give a d.a.m.n about the tour or the punch. All I care about is you." He brushes his knuckles along my check. The simple contact feels so good, I shut my eyes and breathe in a sigh of relief. If I were a cat, I'd purr. "Where does this leave us?" he asks.

My heart fills with hope. "Is there still an us? You left the bar with someone the other night. I thought maybe you'd moved on."

"Nothing happened with her." He weaves his fingers with mine and looks down. We're both quiet for a long moment. "How could anything happen with anyone else when I'm in love with you?"

My eyes jump to his. "You are?"

"I am."

Time stands still all around us. "I love you, too."

That slow, lazy, dimpled smile breaks through the last barrier of my heart. "You gave me my first screaming o.r.g.a.s.m, I'm going to give you your last."

"Is that so?" I grin.

He stands and scoops me up off the couch. "We're never hiding again. And this time, there'll be no hand covering your mouth-I want to hear you moan my name while I lick every inch of you." He kicks open the door to my bedroom with his foot.

Setting me down on the center of the bed, he stares with a look that I can only describe as ardor. His voice is so soft, so heartfelt, so pure when he speaks again, I almost liquefy.

One step at a time, back behind the line We can't stop it, no, doesn't matter we try Walk to the blur, yes, you're gonna be mine Say we're still friends, we all know that's a lie You doubt it's true, but it's too late to turn The minute I touch you, our bodies align You're like fire, yet I run toward the burn We've crossed the line, now you're forever mine.

"You finished the last verse."

He smiles. "Now do you believe me? There's no going back once you've crossed into the blur."

"I don't want to go back. I want to go forward."

"Me too, baby. Me too. But right now, I'm going to go up and down."

Epilogue.

Lucky

"I remember when my coffee used to be ready for me when I woke up," I tease as Flynn saunters into the galley area from the bedroom. He's shirtless, sweats hanging low on his waist. Seriously, the sight never gets old. Not for a minute.

He pours himself a steaming mug and refills mine before sliding in across from me. "What are you working on?"

I close the notebook I've been scribbling in all morning. "Nothing."

His eyebrows arch. "Nothing, huh? Then let me see."

"No."

He reaches and I swat his hand away.

"Why can't I see?"

"You'll see. Just not now."

He pouts.

"The pout isn't going to work either."

"No?"

"No."

He grins and leans forward, as if he's going to tell me a secret, then I feel his hand under the table slip inside the leg of my shorts. "How about this?" Truly, the man has magical fingers. And not just on the guitar and keyboard. His thumb presses into my c.l.i.t and for a few seconds I succ.u.mb to my weakness-his touch. But then I realize his other hand is slowly slipping the notebook from my loosened grip.

"Not gonna work."

"Oh, it's gonna work. Give me a minute."

Dear lord, I'm in trouble when he pulls out the big guns-the c.o.c.ky half grin and full dimples. His dexterous fingers dip below my panties and he runs two fingers up and down my center.

"Feels like it's already working."

I shake my head but don't try to push his stroking fingers away. When he lifts the fingers that he just coated with my moisture to his mouth and obscenely sucks them, I'm near opening the d.a.m.n notebook and reading him what I was working on. Luckily, he's quickly forgotten the notebook, too.

"Spread your legs wider." He leans across the table so our mouths are lined up, but he doesn't kiss me.

Fortunately, I hesitate, because otherwise Nolan would have caught Flynn's fingers back inside of me. When will we learn to control ourselves?

"Mornin'," Nolan grunts.

"How many times do I have to tell you, put some f.u.c.king pants on before you come out here?"

He looks down, confused. "I do have pants on."