Outsider (34 page)

“That
will be nice.” Reagan’s brows scrunched together. “At our old place or Trey’s?”

“Our
old place.”

“Isn’t
it going to be crowded with the four of us living there?”

“I
thought you and Trey could live at his place and I’ll live at our old place.”

She
blinked. Surely she’d heard him wrong. “You don’t want to live with us?” So
when he’d left, he’d actually
left
them? “Ethan . . .”

“I
never said that. Maybe once the press is off your—”

“I’ll
tell them,” she blurted, finally realizing that she might lose one or both of
the men she loved if she kept their relationship a secret any longer. “I’ll
tell them everything.”

“Is
that a threat?” Ethan said, his voice sounding confused.

“A
threat?” Reagan also sounded confused, because she was. “No. I’d rather the
press know than lose you.”

“Don’t
do that,” he said. “I can’t find the guts to tell my own mother, so how in the
hell am I going to deal with the entire world knowing?”

“You
haven’t told her yet?”

Ethan
released a sigh. “I figured she has enough to worry about. Carlos spilled the
news to her about you being in a tabloid, so of course she went and got a copy
first thing this morning.”

Reagan’s
face went numb. Another person she cared about would think poorly of her. Think
she cheated on her boyfriend. Think she’d fucked her way into Exodus End. “Oh.”

“She’s
livid on your behalf.”

“Livid?”

“She
doesn’t believe a word of it.”

Unlike
her own father, who figured the tabloid had downplayed her promiscuity. “I
appreciate her faith in me.”

“She
also put a curse on Trey for stealing my girl.” Ethan chuckled.

Well,
that wasn’t fair. “You should tell her, Ethan. She’ll be able to handle the
truth.”

“Don’t
you think I should wait until I’ve talked her into leaving here? I think Carlos
might be caught up in some gang. I went through his stuff after he left this
morning and can’t find any evidence, but—”

“Ethan!
You didn’t really snoop, did you?”

“Damned
right I did. My mom might not be the only one who needs saving here.”

Reagan
smiled. The guy loved “saving” those he cared about—and even random strangers
on the street. “Ironic how you’re invading your brother’s privacy and trying to
protect mine.”

“I
just want everyone safe and happy.”

Which
reminded her . . . “Trey and I had a fight this morning,
and I ended up making a complete ass of myself.”

“What
were you fighting about?”

“The
same shit we’ve been fighting about all week.”

Ethan
sighed. “This isn’t going to go away no matter how much we want it to, is it?”

“It
has to, Ethan. It can’t follow us forever.”

“As
long as we’re together, it will.”

“If
you say we should break up for my benefit, I’m going to reach through this
phone and strangle you.”

“I
wasn’t going to say that.”

But
she was certain he thought it.

“I
thought,” he said, “if I went away for a while, you and Trey could sort out
your differences.”

“We
need you here, Ethan. We only work well in threes.”

Ethan
was silent. She shouldn’t ask him to return so soon when he had family matters
to fix. “Maybe I can talk Mamá into coming to see you perform. Where are you
next?”

“Uh.
I’m pretty sure we’ll be in Atlanta on Tuesday and Little Rock on Wednesday.”
Little Rock. Ugh. She was not looking forward to playing so close to home. What
if someone she knew showed up and revealed that she’d been a total band geek in
high school?

“Little
Rock isn’t too far from Texas. Maybe she’d agree to go to that show. Or maybe
she’d like to see both shows. I’ll ask her. Do you think you can stop fucking
things up with Trey until then?”

“I
can try. Do you think you can save your brother before then?”

“I
will. If I don’t talk to you sooner, be sure to call me Monday and tell me how
you’re dealing with things.”

“Monday?”
She screwed up her face trying to think of anything she should be concerned
about that day. “What’s Monday?”

“The
new tabloids hit the stands.”

She
had been feeling loads better. Now? Not so much. “Gee, thanks for reminding me.
I guess an already shitty day
can
get worse.”

“Sorry.
I figured you’d be dwelling on it. Pretend I didn’t bring it up.”

If
he’d been there, she’d have given him her “you’re fucking kidding me, right”
look.

“I’ve
got to go. I love you.”

“I
love you too,” Reagan said, her mind churning out all sorts of potential stories
about her that might grace the next tabloid headlines. Would they dwell on what
had happened in the hotel lobby less than an hour ago? She knew there would be
something about her and Ethan together at the apartment during Phillip
Lionheart’s funeral, but what other photos did she need to worry about? Hugging
Sed? Leaning on Dare? Being carried by Ethan? She was making much too easy for
the tabloids to prove she was a slut.

“And
tell Trey I love him and that he shouldn’t call me at midnight, no matter how
much he misses me.”

“He
called you at midnight?”

“He
did. Tell him I’ll call him as soon as I come out to my mother. That will give
me incentive to do it.”

“Aww,
you do love him, don’t you?”

“As
much as I love you. Differently, but as much.”

She
understood exactly what he meant. She loved both men differently yet equally.
Both of them had her entire heart. They didn’t have to share that the way they
had to share her body.

“Are
you going to make up with him?” Ethan asked. “You know he can’t stand for
people to be cross with him.”

“Yeah,
I’ll make it up to him. I owe him one after he made it seem like I was naked in
the hotel lobby because I couldn’t live without his goodbye kiss.”

“What?
Naked in the lobby?”

“I’ll
tell you about it sometime,” she said, projecting a teasing tone into her words.
“You have to go, remember? Tell your mom I said hi and that I can’t wait for
her to see me perform live.” Reagan figured Rosa would be more likely to attend
if she thought Reagan was the one who’d invited her.

“I’ll
tell her. And do try to stay out of trouble.”

“I
try, but it keeps finding me.”

He
chuckled. “Nothing’s changed there.”

When
Trey returned over an hour later, Reagan was working on a riff that had been
plaguing her for weeks. She just couldn’t get it right. She envied those who
seemed to pull fresh musical scores out of a magic hat. Writing music never
came easy to her. Sometimes she’d think she’d come up with a new and innovative
melody, only to realize she’d twisted parts of a score from her classical music
background into something a bit more metal. She was pretty sure her new riff
was trying to morph itself into a line from Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony.

Trey’s
cheeks were red, and an ear-to-ear grin was plastered to his face.

“Something
funny?” Reagan asked, finding herself smiling at him.

“Inside
joke with Eric.”

His
band shared all sorts of inside jokes and poignant memories with each other. That
connection was currently lacking between her and her bandmates. They were
making memories now, but she missed having a history with them. She’d probably
always feel like an outsider.

“Whatcha
writing?” Trey asked.

“The
riff that tried to kill me.”

Trey
nodded. He was quite familiar with the riff. He’d even tried to help her get it
right a few times.

“Any
progress?”

“It’s
getting worse, not better.” She played the set of notes she’d just modified.

“It
sounds phenomenal to me.”

“You
don’t think it sounds like Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony?”

Trey
shook his head, a wide grin making him look even more attractive than usual.
“It might if I knew what that sounded like.”

She
played the familiar string of notes from the composer’s score on her guitar.

“Oh
that.” Trey nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

Everyone
in the free world had probably heard that before.

“Play
your riff,” he said.

She
played her composition again, and Trey cocked his head to focus his attention
on the sound.

“There’s
what, two notes the same?” he said. “You’re overthinking again.”

“The
rhythm is similar too.”

“Reagan,
I think it’s okay for you to use a three quarter time beat.”

“In
metal music?”

Trey
chuckled. “It’s been known to happen.”

“So
how did the press conference go?” She tried to keep the anxiety out of her
voice, but the tremor in her words gave her away. Was it possible to contract a
press phobia? Because she was pretty sure she had that going on.

“Our
new album drops tomorrow,” he said, “so we kept their attention focused on that
as much as possible.”

“How
could I have forgotten?” she said, slapping herself in the forehead. “How
exciting for you guys! I know everyone is going to love it.”

“The
first single has done well,” he said.

“Of
course it has. ‘Sever’ is absolutely amazing. I wish I could write music the
way Brian does.”

Trey
laughed. “Maybe you should try boning Myrna.”

Reagan
screwed up her face at him. “How would that help?”

“Brian
had a huge case of writer’s block until he started banging her. As Sed once put
it, fucking her is magically delicious.”

“Myrna
is great and all, but I think I’ll pass.”

Trey
shifted to sit beside her on the sofa and took her guitar. After carefully
setting the instrument on the coffee table, he pulled her onto his lap.

“I’m
sorry about earlier,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder and pressing
his cheek against her jaw. “I shouldn’t have teased you. I had no idea it would
upset you so much.”

“I
overreacted,” she admitted. “Running after you in a sheet? What the fuck was I
thinking?”

“You
looked sexy,” he said, kissing her jaw.

“I
looked like a fool. A
naked
fool. I wonder how much of me they’ll blur
out when they publish those pictures.”

“Maybe
they won’t publish them at all.”

“And
maybe I’ll stop worrying so much about it.” Both equally unlikely. She’d
forgotten something as important as Sinners’ new album dropping. She couldn’t
focus on anything but the fucking paparazzi and how cornered they made her
feel.

“Let’s
go do something,” he said. “Get out of this room and away from it all for an
hour or two.”

“Like
what?” she asked.

“We’re
in New York—I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Her
heartrate picked up again. “The paparazzi will follow us.”

“Good.”

Good?
What could possibly be good about that? Her stomach was in knots and when he
set her on her feet, her leg muscles trembled so badly that she had to put a
hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

“Should
we wear disguises?” she asked, sure that Rebekah would have a wig she could
borrow. Sinners’ soundboard operator was always playing dress-up with her
husband. However, Reagan wasn’t sure what sticky stuff she might find in such a
wig. She was pretty sure Eric Sticks was a cum factory.

“Nope.
Just you and me in the city of love.”

“I
think that’s Paris,” Reagan said.

“Every
city is the city of love with me around.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,
and she couldn’t help but laugh. And God, it felt good. She was pretty sure she
hadn’t laughed since they’d returned to the tour.

“I’ll
get my boots,” she said, figuring she’d probably freak out at the first sign of
the press, but at that moment, she was relaxed and looking forward to hanging
around with Trey.

“I’m
going to call Ethan real quick.”

“No!”
she said, remembering that she was supposed to have given Trey a message.

He
paused with one finger hovering over the screen of his smartphone. “Why not?”

“I
talked to him while you were out. He said to tell you that he’ll call you after
he comes out to his mother. It will give him incentive or something like that.”

“Oh.”
Trey released a sigh. “He still hasn’t told her?”

“He
ran into some problems.” She told him the news about Don leaving Rosa, the
restaurant folding, and Ethan’s concerns for Rosa’s safety as well as his
brother’s possible involvement with a gang.