Captivated (15 page)

“Luke sucks! Luke sucks!”
The crowd’s chant blended into the song. And an open cup of beer landed on the
stage, sloshing its contents at Zander’s feet. Then another and another. Trash
came flying from all directions. Security jumped onstage. The band kept
playing.

Irisa jumped when a hand
landed on her shoulder.

Jayne stood by her, with
members of Assertive Ire.
“I asked them if they could go on
early. They’re ready.”

She nodded. What else
could she do? Onstage, Zander said something to the fans about contacting Luke if
they wanted a refund. Jayne called his name, waving her arms to get his
attention.

“Show’s over.”

Zander stormed past her.
“I’m
going to kill him.”

“Get in line.” Irisa
herded them away from the stage and back to the dressing room. “One of you
could’ve been seriously hurt out there.”

Landry pulled off his
dripping jacket and beer-stained shirt.
“Where was he? Let’s go
get him.”

“Too late.” Brendan
looked at his phone. “Other fans showed up there, but he’s gone now.”

Zander wiped what looked
like nacho cheese off his beloved guitar.
“As far as I’m concerned,
he’s out of the band.”

Irisa rubbed the back of
her neck. The guys were a seething, sweaty, sticky mess. The situation over The
Fury's wayward singer had to be handled. Phone calls to Luke went unanswered.
She sailed past worry and straight into annoyed. Would it be so hard to have
one nice, normal tour again? Things were supposed to be easier with Jayne
around.

"No rash decisions.
Hit the showers and let's get out of here. He's not answering any of us, so you
have two choices. One, you go home, nowhere else,
home
, and we'll figure
this out in the morning. Or two, you come with me to Luke's house. He has to
come home sometime."

Going to Luke's house
made the most sense. Where else could he be?

Brendan
nodded at her. "I'll go with you."

"Me
too. I want some answers." Landry cracked his knuckles. She
’d never seen him look so angry.

Zander
set the towel aside. "Fuck him. I'm going home and making some calls.
We'll replace him. Let him go."

"You
can't make that decision on your own," Irisa reminded him. She dug through
her purse for her car keys. Luke
’s
behavior wasn’t typical Luke. “He’s not his normal self. You can’t just boot
him out.”

"You see him here?
He made his choice. I'm making the calls."

Brendan
stubbed the toe of his boot against the open door, expression grim. Out of the
group, he was the slowest to anger. "Might as well. We don't know if he's
coming back for tomorrow night's show either."

“I’ll come with you too,
if you think it will help.” Jayne came into Irisa’s line of vision. She’d been
so quiet.

“No.” Zander shook his
head and reached for her hand. “Come with me. I need to feel like I have at
least one person on my side.”

Landry
stepped in front of him.
“I’m on the
band
’s
side. Something you and Luke seem to have forgotten lately.
” He moved toward the door. “See you guys there.”

Brendan jangled his keys
in his hand.
“Landry’s right. We’re all out of tune.”

Pinpricks of tears dotted
the back of Irisa
’s eyes. Blinking hard and fast, she rushed
to her car.
Out of tune.
That
nailed it. The phone call she'd been expecting rang out.
Oliver
. Damn
it. She'd hoped to talk to Luke before having to deal with him.
"Hello."

"Irisa."

"Oliver."

"What happened to
Luke?"

"He was sick."

"He was tagged in a
bar photo."

She sighed, and then she
lied. "He'd strained his voice. He couldn't sing." And then she lied
some more. "He'd bumped into the fan on the street and she insisted on
buying him a drink. He didn't want to let her down. That's all that happened.
He left the bar right after. No drama. No issues. Everything is fine."
That story would be drilled into every member of the band.

"Will his voice be
recovered for tomorrow night
’s show?"

"I was on my way
over to check on him right now. So I should get going. I'll let you know."

"Do that."

Pushing the speed limit,
she drove to Luke's and rang the doorbell incessantly.

Finally, he opened the
door. Blue eyes burning, muscles tight. "What?"

"Don't 'What?' me.
What the hell were you thinking?
” She brushed by him and
stalked into the foyer. “You skipped out on a show. You disappointed a lot of
fans, and the label wants to know what the hell is going on."

"Hey. Zander said
the band didn't need me. I gave him the chance to prove it."

"Are you
serious?"

"He thinks he can do
it all himself."

"I was there. That's
not what he said." Both the band and Luke's social media pages had been
flooded with concerned and angry messages. She rolled her shoulders.
"Look. We need you back. The fans want you. Do you really want to tick
them off?"

“Of course not. I guess
things didn’t go too well without me, huh?”

“Thanks to that fan
sharing the picture of you two together at the bar, the show ended in fans
trashing the stage. Someone could have gotten seriously hurt."

He stared at her for a
moment, brows raised while he processed what she
’d said. “Shit.
That’s not good.”

“You think?” She shook
her head. “The story is that you'd strained your voice, so you needed to rest
it. But you're better now."

"Right."

She pressed her lips
together. Annoyance flared in her stomach. "I don't care what happens on
the rest of this tour, but if you ever walk out of a show again, I won't even
try to get the guys to keep you in the band.
”

"The guys talked
about replacing me?"

He deserved the truth.
"We didn't know where you were, or if you'd left the band for good. Zander
’s
making some calls, in case we need someone to fill in for you for the remainder
of the tour, or permanently."

"Fuck that. I'm the
singer of this band. I started it with him." The air snapped with his
anger.

Her own temper boiled
over. She shoved her hair behind her ears. "Then act like the lead singer.
Act like you give a damn about the band and your fans. I'm tired of batting
cleanup for you guys."

A smirk twisted his
features. "Batting cleanup? Really?"

Heat flushed into her
cheeks. "It's a saying."

"Since you're such a
baseball buff now, you know the first thing that happens to a baseball team
when things start falling apart? They fire the manager."

Pain twisted in her
chest. Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him, rooted to her spot.
“You
want to fire me?”

For a long moment, he
stared at her, chest heaving. Then he rubbed his hand over his face and sighed.
“It’s
late. Just go home. Just forget I said anything.”

“No. You said it. Let’s
put it all out there.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her foot tapped the
tile floor in rapid-fire beats.

With a deep expulsion of
breath, he leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling.
“I
didn’t mean it and I shouldn’t have said it. You’re the only one who’s always
been there for us. You’re not just a manager, you’re a part of the family. I’m
sorry. I was out of line.”

She joined him.
“What’s
going on with you lately? You seem like you’re always in a bad mood. It’s not
like you.”

"I'm not happy."

"I get that. You
guys need to work things out better."

"No, it's
…"
He shook his head. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

She rested her fingers on
his forearm.
“You were there for me when I needed a hand to hold at
the charity event. Let me be here for you now. Talk to me.”

He looked at her for a
long moment. She'd have paid anything to be privy to the thoughts running in
his head.

The doorbell chimed, and
the hint of vulnerability disappeared from his features.
“Let
me guess, the guys?”

“They were on their way
over here. But wait, you were going to say something.”

He pushed away from the
wall. "Don
’t worry about it. I'm fine."

She gripped her hands
together and studied his stiff posture. He obviously wasn't fine. "All
right, but if you change your mind, I'll be here.
”

Luke nodded, sober and
stoic.
“Thanks.”
He pulled the door open.

“What the hell?” Landry
stalked by him, followed by Brendan. And, to her surprise, Zander and Jayne.

Her brother whipped
around and faced Luke.
“We want an explanation.”

“I shouldn’t have walked
off.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and ended his statement with a shrug.

“Damn straight.” Zander’s
eyes glittered. Well and truly pissed, and ready for a fight.

“We need you
onstage
,
not in a fucking bar when we
’re in the middle of a goddamn show.”
Landry pushed up his jacket sleeves.

Luke glared at him.
“I
already said I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. Fire
whoever you hired. No one’s taking my place.”

“You think so, huh?”
Zander edged closer.

“Yeah. I do.” Luke
squared off, rolling his shoulders.

“Come on, guys.” Irisa
jumped up and put herself in the middle of the standoff.

“Stand down.” Brendan
joined her. “If one of you messes up your hands, you might not be playing
tomorrow night. Cool it. He apologized. Yeah, we’re all still ticked off at
each other, but let’s not make this even worse.”

“Come on, Zander. Let’s
go.” Jayne’s clear voice cut through the grumblings. “Let’s just forget tonight
happened.”

“Pretty
hard to forget.” But he backed away. When he reached the door, he turned back.
“You better show up tomorrow night.”

“I’ll be
there.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Count on it.” He faced Landry
and Brendan and promised the same thing.

Irisa
hung back until the other guys had left.
“I’m leaving.
Drink some tea. All that yelling tonight isn’t good.”

“I
will.” Luke opened the door for her, then dropped his hand on her shoulder. “I
really am sorry about what I said.”

Squeezing
his hand, she smiled.
“Then make it up to me by
putting on a good show tomorrow.”

She
drove home just after midnight. Her stomach churned. Emotions wouldn
’t quiet. Her thoughts jumbled with images of the guys and
words hurled in anger. Maybe a drink would help settle her. A peek in the pub
confirmed Dom wasn’t there. If things were better, she could talk to him about
the horrible night, and he’d get her to laugh or give her a massage. Liam’s
words rang in her head.
He doesn
’t lie. He doesn’t cheat…with anything.

She
walked in, smiled at Steve behind the crowded bar, and asked for a table in the
shadowed back of the room. A glass of wine to calm her nerves. And maybe it
would help her think of a way to talk to Dom.

The
text from Steve lit his phone screen.
She
’s
here.

Dom grabbed his keys,
phone, and wallet, and jogged to his elevator. Tipping Steve to give him a
heads-up when Irisa came into the bar had paid off. They needed to talk. He
walked into the bar and caught the bartender
’s gaze. Steve nodded,
then inclined his head toward the left. Dom’s pulse ratcheted up a notch. As
always, she was stunning. Irisa sat at a table near the back, cradling a glass
of wine and gazing out the window. He sent her a chocolate martini to soften
the surprise of him showing up at her table.

Brows arching, she accepted
the drink from the waitress and her gaze scanned the bar, finally landing on
him. His heart hitched in his chest as he approached, beer in hand.

Wide, wounded eyes,
quickly shuttered, met his.
“Thank you for the drink.”

“Can I join you?” He
gripped the back of the chair.

Her chest rose and fell
in steady movements.
“Sure.”

Thank God.
He
dropped into the seat. Her scent, so familiar and so near, overwhelmed him. He
wanted to touch her, but hadn
’t yet earned back that right. “I’d
like a chance to explain.”

She folded her hands in
front of her.
“All right.”

Dom spread his hands
wide, palms upturned on the table.
“You said Oliver kept his
real self hidden. Natalie masked hers pretty well, too. I hope you can trust me
when I say nothing’s there. She’s not the kind of person I want to be around.
Hell, until she showed up here two weeks ago, I hadn’t even seen her in a
year.”

Her hands tightened,
turning white at the knuckles.
“A year?”

“A year. Not since we
broke up. I swear.” He nodded and inched his hand closer to hers. “She pounced
on me in the lobby, thrust the demo at me, and kept begging me to say yes. I
only took it so she’d leave. The perfume and lipstick transferred when she
hugged me. And no, I didn’t want her hugging me.”

“I met her at the party.
She’s…intense.”

“She talked to you? I’m
sorry. I didn’t know she was coming. Her name wasn’t on the list. She showed up
as someone’s guest.”

“We had an interesting
conversation.”

Shit.
“I’ll
bet. What did she say?”

“Did you read the letter
she included with the demo? The bit about how you offered to put us in touch
with each other.”

Annoyance filled him and
anger heated his blood.
“That’s a lie on her part.”

“Last night, she said
that you got bent out of shape when she asked you to pass along the demo.”

“That’s the truth. I
did.”

“So I have two
conflicting stories.”

The crack in Natalie
’s
lie would help to show the truth. He grasped her hand. “I’ve never lied to you.
I’m telling you now, she showed up out of the blue, said she’d seen us
photographed together, and threw the demo at me. That’s the truth.”

She glanced at their
joined hands. Her fingers trembled under his.
“This is so hard
for me. After what happened with Oliver, I can’t help wondering. He managed to
plan this elaborate ruse…”

“I’m not like him. I’ve
never had to pretend to be interested or anything like that. Did you really
think I could fake my responses, my body’s responses to you?”

Her eyes widened and then
her lips pressed together. Her gaze shifted to the table and her shoulders
lifted in a shrug.

Frustration forced him
forward. Gripping her hand, he leaned over the table.
“What
can I do to show you I’m telling the truth?”

“I told her I’m not
passing along the demo.” Hazel eyes lifted to his, almost in challenge.

“Good. I’ve already
trashed it anyway. I trashed that shirt, too.”

“Why the shirt?”

“Because I didn’t want to
keep anything around that would make you upset.” He rubbed his thumb across her
knuckles.

Her eyebrows rose and her
gaze darted to their hands.
“I think I’m generous about a lot of
things, but not when it comes to sharing someone I’m seeing.”

“Me neither. It ticked me
off to see Luke holding your hand yesterday. I’m a one-woman guy and I expect
the same.”

Her face crinkled for a
moment.
“I
want to believe you.”

“All I’m asking for is a
chance.” He held tight, willing her to agree.

At her nod, the tension
in his chest eased. He leaned back in his chair and tried to relax, to act
normal, all while his insides thrummed with excitement. He hadn
’t
lost her. “So, how have you been?”

“All right. You?” So
careful and polite, almost like they were strangers.

“Better now. I’ve been
waiting to talk to you for days.” He swallowed his beer, itching to touch her
again.

She sipped the martini.
Her nearly full wine glass sat abandoned in the center of the table. They
watched each other, quiet as conversations swirled around them. He
’d
give anything to ease the awkwardness.

“How’s the band?”

“Chaos as usual.” Her
fingers twirled the stem of the glass. “Tonight’s show was pretty bad. Luke
walked out minutes before it started. Fans threw trash and beer at the guys,
and they were booed off the stage.”

The strained quiet in her
voice and the stiff way she held her shoulders told him more than mere words
could convey. He let his hand cover hers again. Immediately, he felt better.
Hopefully, she did too.
“I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s patched up
for now. I just came from Luke’s house.” She seemed so small. He wanted to fold
her into a hug and kiss away the strain. He settled for moving his chair closer
to hers.

“I’m sure they’ll be
fine. They held it together to perform last night.” He caught her gaze again.
“Speaking of last night, you looked beautiful.”

A blush touched her
cheeks and a smile touched her lips.
“Thank you.”

There
.
The connection hadn
’t dimmed. Warmth fanned out from their
joined hands. His world righted.

She set her empty glass
on the table.
“I should head upstairs. I’m pretty tired.”

“I’ll go up with you.” He
released her hand and pushed away from the table, and then shoved his hands in
his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again.

He managed to keep his
hands to himself until they reached her door.
“I’m leaving on a
road trip tomorrow, but I’ll be back on Friday. Can I see you Friday night?”

“I think that will work.”
She pulled her keys from her purse. “Well, good night.”

He hated seeing that
lingering vulnerability, the little hint showing that, however unintentionally,
he
’d
hurt her deeply. He traced his fingertip down her cheek. Her eyes stayed open,
stayed on his as he lowered his head. Slow, savoring, memorizing every detail
of her face and hitch of her breath. His lips tingled in anticipation. Hers
parted. Finally, they touched. Sweet satisfaction swelled.

A murmur of approval
hummed low in his throat. Irisa
’s hands slipped to his chest. He
reveled in her touch. Two weeks apart had felt like a lifetime. He shifted
closer and delved deeper. She eased her lips away from his, but stayed close
enough to share breath. Her gaze intent on his, as though searching for
secrets.

Letting go of her and
returning to his lonely apartment wasn
’t how he wanted the
night to end. He skimmed her hair behind her ear. “I missed you.”

Her hand caught his and
held his palm to her cheek.
“Maybe call me while you’re gone?”

Hell yes.
“I
don’t want to say good night yet.”

She paused for a minute,
studying him.
“Come in. I’ll make some coffee."

Her place was a
reflection of her—colorful, elegant, and put together. He followed her into the
kitchen. One counter held a large bowl of chocolate candy and a realtor
’s
business card and house brochure. What the…? He picked it up. “What’s this?”

“I made an offer on a
house a few days ago.” She measured out decaf, added water, and turned on the
coffeemaker.

He tried to quell panic
at the thought of her leaving. She hadn
’t ever mentioned wanting
to move. Had he brought her to do this? “Why now?”

“Why not?” Her response
made him smile. “I decided it was time, that’s all.”

“So you weren’t doing it
to get away from me?”

“That would be a pretty
drastic tactic. And no. I saw it and something clicked, like it was waiting for
me.”

Just like something had
clicked when he
’d first met her. But if he told her now,
she might not believe him. He opened the brochure again. “Looks like it doesn’t
need much work. Hey, it has your staircase.”

“That was the key.” She
grabbed bright blue mugs from a cabinet. “Anyway, I hope to hear something
soon.”

“It’s going to be weird
not having you under me.” He set the papers aside and moved toward her. “I like
having you under me.”

“Dom.” Her hand rested on
his chest before he could touch her the way he wanted.

Too soon. All wasn
’t
forgotten. But was he paying for his own mistake, or the deceptions of her
previous relationships? “I know I messed up with you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that. I want to
apologize. I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to hit you that day. I feel so bad
about what happened with your black eye, and you losing out on those games with
your team.”

The words warmed him. He
covered her hand with his. Holding her to his chest. Holding her to his heart.
“I
survived.”

“I didn’t realize you’d
missed out on other games too, thanks to the bar fight. I’m sorry my band was a
magnet for chaos. You got in trouble because you were with us, when you
should’ve been rewarded for easing the tension. You must’ve been pretty angry
with me.”

“Not at you. At the
situation. But that’s behind us. It’s okay.” He didn’t want to talk about the
past.

She rose on her toes and
pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned away to deal with the coffee. Cup in
hand, she led him to the living room and settled on a white couch strewn with
jewel-toned pillows.

Dom sat beside her, took
the chance, and linked their fingers together. He didn
’t
try to go any further. She’d set the pace when she’d kissed him at her door and
in the kitchen.
Go slow.
She
’d
need it until he’d earned her trust, and he needed it, so he’d have the chance
to savor having her back in his life.

He
’d
asked for a chance. She’d granted his request. Now he just had to show her how
much that meant to him.

He
’d
never been more ready to return from a road trip in his life. Dom rushed in the
apartment building, eager to see Irisa. He’d thought about sending her flowers
while he was away, but with her, there was only one choice—chocolate. He’d sent
her texts at random hours and called her every night. Showing he cared was all
that mattered.

Wanting to see her took
precedence over going home and unpacking. He went straight to her apartment. He
hadn
’t
called first. Hadn’t thought to do it. She better be home.

The clicking of locks,
the twist of the door handle, and then finally, the door swung open. And Zander
stood in the frame.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?”

Disappointment sagged
through him, but Dom smiled.
“Hi.”

Rather than allowing him
to enter, Zander motioned for him to step further into the hall. He closed the
door at their backs.
“I wanted to talk to you.”

“All right.” Dom shifted
his bag on his shoulder. After the way the band had closed ranks around Irisa,
he had no doubt they all knew about Natalie and the demo and the t-shirt. If
Zander wanted to hit him for hurting his sister, he’d take the punch.

“My sister’s a private
person, but she shares things with me. I think I have a fair idea of what
really happened with your ex, and more importantly, I think my sister does, too.
But if you make her cry again, I’ll be really tempted to smash my guitar over
your head.”

He hated hearing he
’d
made her cry. “I never wanted to hurt your sister. I promise I’ll do my best to
make her happy.”

Zander nodded.
“Then
we’re cool. Come on in. Everyone’s in the dining room.”

Dom followed him inside
and set his travel bag on the floor. Wait
… “What do you mean,
everyone?”