Owned (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion Book 5) (3 page)

“Insulted.
That’s
the word you’re using to describe the zingers you two clowns have been flinging back and forth for weeks now?” When he didn’t reply, she arched a brow and faced him with a beheaded green stalk in one hand and the fluffy green tops in the other. “Well?”

“Goddamn, you’re hot.”

She made a sound that bordered on a snarl but her lips twitched as she turned away to offload her vegetables and dump oil in the pan. So he risked life and limb to come up behind her to sniff her hair and circle his arms around her waist. “I know, I know, I’m not supposed to notice anymore. I can’t explain why I do. It’s probably because of these.” He bent to skim his hand up her ankle. “You wear these torture devices to make me salivate.”

“I wear them because they’re business-appropriate. And get back up here.”

“Sure you really want me to? You know how much I love getting on my knees for you.”

She made another noise in her throat but there was no missing her smile now. “Later. We need to have a discussion without involving sex.”

“Why?”

“God, you’re impossible.” She turned on the burner, tossing in more broccoli along with some pre-chopped pieces of red and green pepper from a store-bought package. “I’m having a meeting with Donovan on Monday about the band.”

The thread of tension in her tone made him stop admiring her ankles. He leaned against the stove beside her, his gaze trained on her face. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Because of the shit I stirred up with Simon?”

“No, because it’s almost time for the band to come back from hiatus and I’m in no position to objectively manage other bands along with Oblivion.”

“Says fucking who?”

“Donovan.” She held up a hand as she effortlessly shook the broccoli in the pan with the other. “Don’t go nuts on me. He’s right, and we both know it. There’s a conflict of interest.”

“So what? What if we were more than living together? Then what? You’d probably not be able to manage Oblivion either, because Lord knows you might give me special favors over the rest of the band. Which is patently false. You’d be more likely to give the rest of the band the favors and lock me in a closet somewhere.”

She’d gone quiet, and he hated that. That over-thinky expression came into her eyes, and he knew she was hurting. Or worrying. Probably both.

“What can I do to help?” Before she could answer, he moved closer and tucked his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder. And that was only partially so he could inhale more of her scent. Damn, apples were arousing. “Not post shit on Twitter that makes your job harder. Got it.”

“You know, if you keep taking the words out of my mouth, it makes it harder for me to remain properly peeved at you.”

“Ha. You’ve been properly peeved at me for a while. Don’t think I don’t know you didn’t hate fuck the hell out of me this morning on the bathroom counter.”

“More like annoyed fuck. My irritation with you has yet to rise to hate.”

He turned his head and ran his nose up the side of her neck, just for the thrill of making her shudder. “Guess I gotta step up my game, because that would be goddamn hot.”

“Your game is upped enough. I can feel it against my hip.”

“Mmm-hmm. Then stop wearing those heels and tempting me.” He flicked his tongue along the crevice beneath her earlobe.

She sucked in a breath. “You’d be surprised. I wore heels before I ever knew you.”

“Back in the dark ages.” Because it would be all too easy to just bend her over the stove and work himself into that luscious slit between her legs, he backed away and braced his hands on the counter behind him. “So, I repeat, what can I do to help?”

She glanced over her shoulder, a blond curl falling over one eye. “What’s your angle?”

“Call me Smokey the Bear, because I don’t want to set shit on fire while I fuck you against that stove.”

The blush that heated her cheeks was twice as sexy when combined with her slitted eyes. “Distractions never work with me.”

“My sore tongue begs to differ.”

Her flush deepened for barely an instant. “Yeah, well, your sore fingers should stop doing the walking on your phone. Save any rude comments you have for your bandmate for when everyone in the world isn’t watching.”

“I didn’t realize anyone would pay attention,” he muttered.

“Really? Still?”

“It’s been almost a year. Does anyone even still give a shit about Oblivion?” Pushing a hand through his hair, he stalked back and forth behind her in the space between the appliances and the counter. He’d paced the hell out of the carpet in the bedroom too.

What he needed to do was frigging
relax
.

“Yes, they do.” She stopped dumping vegetables in the pan and turned down the burner before shifting to face him. “The reaction from the fans to your sniping should’ve proven that to you.”

“It’s been so long. We’re still a relatively new band.”

“You have very loyal fans, and you weren’t exactly paupers. Your audience could wait a year to hear all of you together again without losing the love they have for you. Granted, you’re no One Direction.”

“And thank God for that.”

She shook her head. “I know you’re angry at Simon.” She gave the vegetables a stir. “As you have every right to be. He wounded you.”

“Wounded’s a little strong.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“No, it isn’t,” he conceded, feeling like a supreme dick.

He didn’t have to be embarrassed in front of her. More than anyone, she understood. Even without being around for the bulk of his friendship with Simon, she got what his former best friend meant to him. She’d been there for every moment of the hell he’d endured while trying to get over not having a band to fall back on for the first time since he was a kid.

She got
him
with all his flaws and foibles, and somehow through some miracle of fate, she still loved him anyway.

“Jazz is having a baby. Another baby,” she amended, and he could tell she was treading carefully in case the news set him off.

Because everyone in the universe knew that all he gave a shit about was the band and how everyone’s life affected it. Well, not anymore. He had more to focus on now. Oblivion might be coming back to the forefront, but he wasn’t going to forget what truly mattered most.

“Yeah, I know. I talked to Gray tonight. He told me.” Nick stepped forward to lightly grip her elbows. She wasn’t the only one studying reactions. “What do you think about that?”

She gave the vegetables another halfhearted stir then pivoted to face him. “I think she’s happy, and she’s glowing, and I’m—” She broke off, but not before he finished her sentence in his head. Maybe it wasn’t the right word. Maybe.

Jealous
.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You know I’d give you anything in this world that I could, don’t you?”

He hadn’t meant to say that, but as usual, open mouth, create drama.

Her smile trembled as she eased out of his hold and turned back to the stove. “Those are dangerous words, Crandall. Someday I might just try to collect.”

N
ick thought
she hadn’t noticed he’d been acting weird lately, but oh, she had.

Over the past almost year together, they’d settled into a rhythm. Occasionally, it speeded up. Occasionally, it slowed down or veered away from the bass line completely. But overall, it was steady.
He
was steady, even in spite of his unsettled background and the lifestyle he longed to return to with the fervor of a Sunday morning communicant. The music was what drew him, but she wasn’t stupid enough to forget everything else that came part and parcel. Mostly, she didn’t even try.

Denial hadn’t served her well in her first marriage. She didn’t want to wear blinders here. Not that she was looking for trouble. Nope, she’d believed the wrong thing once before about Nick, and she’d soon realized the error of her ways. She’d sworn to him that she would just talk to him if anything concerned her, and for the most part, she’d upheld her vow.

It wasn’t as if vague niggles were enough to stage an intervention. He was probably just nervy about the band getting back together in a few weeks. Not everything had to do with them, and hell, they were definitely still blazing up the sheets. She had nothing concrete to point to about his mood change lately, and she certainly didn’t have any complaints about how things were going, minus his Twitter shenanigans.

Then his old groupie girlfriend showed up at Ripper Records.

Lila had already been gearing up for the meeting with Donovan, so she’d been in fight mode to start. Finding Tori waiting for her at reception made her dial back her bite reflex. A little.

The girl was beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes, gorgeous smile. She didn’t seem pretentious or obnoxious, and she held out a hand for Lila, which she shook.

“Do I know you?” she asked, unable to keep the chill from her tone.

She’d heard about Tori, both from Nick and from Margo. She’d also seen her many times lingering around the shows, which was why she’d agreed to see her when any fans who showed up were normally given the polite company spiel. But this was the girl Nick had dated more often than any other—except Jazz, of course, and that had been a rather brief situation that had reverberated.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m friends with Nick.” Tori’s gaze strayed to Lila’s feet. “Whoa, killer boots. My chunky calves are tingling in envy right now.”

In spite of herself, Lila laughed. “Thanks. I usually dress up a bit more for the office, but you know, Christmas.” She gestured at her red sweater dress and knee-high brown boots. “Would you like to sit down, have a coffee?”

Okay, so she hadn’t expected to be friendly. Polite, yes, but friendly, no. Not with one of Nick’s exes. But this girl didn’t come off as a threat. She seemed nice. And yes, Lila couldn’t deny she was curious at her motivation for the visit.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I can’t.” Tori flashed an apologetic smile. “I’m just stopping in. Nick changed his number and I never connected with him to get the new one.”

Lila tried to keep her own friendly smile in place. There had been talk about Lila and Nick on and off in the media for much of the past year, but they’d been circumspect. Most people still bought the company line that Nick was the sole remaining single member of Oblivion. She and Donovan hadn’t had much of a discussion yet—though that would change today—about her ignoring the fraternization rule, but she’d done her part to not fan the gossip flames. Dates in public were pretty much not a consideration. Public displays of affection, even less of one.

Sharpening her claws on Tori’s sleek suede cropped jacket probably wouldn’t do much to maintain that cover.

“It’s my turn to be sorry. We can’t give out the personal information of any of our artists. You understand.”

“I sure do.” Tori winked at her and motioned for them to walk down a hallway. Lila frowned and walked beside her, only understanding why she’d chosen to divert them away from the reception area when she started to speak. “Nick told me about you two, you know.”

Don’t blush
. “Told you what, exactly?”

Tori glanced over her shoulder, then let her hair fall forward to curtain her face. “He called me to say goodbye, and he told me he was in love with you.”

Lila had to search for her voice. Even all these months later, that he could tell the truth so openly to a woman he’d once been involved with blew her mind. Maybe it was because she’d endured a marriage to a man who had cheated so many times she’d grown numb. Her legal, public partner had flaunted their relationship at every turn, and Nick protected their relationship even though it had to be kept secret.

She’d practically made him take a blood oath not to tell anyone, and still, he strained to share the news with those he cared about.

“When did Nick tell you about us?” she asked softly, momentarily forgetting her natural tendency to deflect.

“Right after Thanksgiving last year. I called him to tell him I was in town. Before I’d said two words, he told me he had a girl and sorry, we could still be friends, but the rest was over.”

“Last Thanksgiving.” Lila smoothed a hand over her hip and wished she had her iPad to hold on to. Better yet, she wished Nick was in front of her right this instant so she could grab hold of his T-shirt and drag him down to her for a big kiss. He might be a giant pain in the ass sometimes, but she loved him with a ferocity that terrified her.

More and more with each passing moment.

They’d only gotten together last year on Black Friday. Their supposed one-night hookup had quickly turned into more, but it had definitely started as sex only. Yet he’d had no problem telling an old girlfriend that Lila was his, despite her lack of encouragement.

Well, other than sleeping with him, which was pretty much all the encouragement Nick needed.

The guy was relentless. Amazing. And yes, she knew she was blushing. Big time.

“Aw, look at you. Your expression says it all. How sweet is that?” Tori grinned. “Still in the honeymoon period after all this time?”

Lila started to respond, then remembered her role. It was getting more difficult to slide into it when adapting that façade meant disowning what she’d found with Nick.

After meeting with Donovan today, she hoped that would change.

“As far as the press goes, Nick is single.” Not exactly a denial, but she couldn’t erase their relationship to a woman who’d once been with him more times than Lila cared to think about. She also couldn’t deny what she’d just been told. Of all the lies and half-truths she’d parroted as part of her job, this one stung the most.

Tori frowned. “So he lied to me?” She bit her lip, searching Lila’s face. Then she smiled. “No, he didn’t,” she said softly. “You’re just doing your job.”

Swallowing hard, Lila nodded. And not for the first time, hated herself for doing exactly that.

“I understand. The secret is safe with me.” Tori mimed dragging a zipper across her lips. “I just came by to ask if you’d let him know that I’m changing numbers and will call him once I’m stationed in New York. We don’t talk much anymore,” she added before the thought had a chance to fully form in Lila’s mind. “We’re more like acquaintances than friends at this point, and we’re both cool with that. We have other people in our lives now.”

Lila flipped through her protocol databanks and found absolutely nothing that worked in this situation. So again she went with a nod.

“I’m actually moving to the east coast because of my new guy,” Tori continued, which was a big help since apparently Lila had lost all ability to speak.

“Oh? That’s nice.” Yep, still no clue what to say.

This was what she got for focusing extensively on business for so long that her people skills on the personal side rusted away from disuse. Of course, she could always be like her better half and just say whatever popped into her head, no matter how rude, crude, lewd or just generally disturbing it might be.

Some days she really envied Nicholas Crandall.

“Yeah. He’s in the music business too. So hard to get away from those men. They really spoil you for anyone else, don’t they?” They stopped walking down the hall and Tori lifted a finger to trace one of Oblivion’s framed gold records. “Nick’s a good guy. I hope you’re happy together.”

“We are,” Lila said before remembering she wasn’t supposed to be talking. But once the words were out, her resolve firmed. She couldn’t back down about this subject again. It was too important. “Very happy, thank you. I wish the same for you and yours. He’s in music? Do I know him?”

“Oh, I think so.” Tori let her hand drop and gave Lila a secret smile. “He’s definitely made his mark over the years. If you’ve been to New Jersey, he’s practically a god there.” She laughed huskily. “Well, he’s a god everywhere.”

Lila lifted her eyebrows. She had a feeling Tori was currently reliving some very personal experiences of his god-like status. “There are a few very big artists who hail from Jersey. I don’t suppose you’re willing to be more specific?”

Springsteen, Jovi, Sinatra. One of those was out because he was unfortunately deceased. But surely Tori hadn’t nailed one of that holy trifecta?

Frankie Valli and Paul Simon were probably out as well. She just didn’t see them as Tori’s preferred demographic.

“I wish I could. Maybe we can chat more, girl to girl, the next time I see you.” Tori tilted her head. “Is Oblivion going to be touring next year?”

“They damn well better be.” Lila cleared her throat and slid her professional smile back into place. See, being around Nick all the time was having a deleterious effect on her vocal mute button. “That’s the plan, yes. First, they’re going back into the studio to work on some new material, and hopefully later in the year, we’ll set up a tour. Something huge that will get them back on the map where they belong.”

Tori nodded vigorously. “I want to see them. Can you get me two tickets to their first LA show?” Her expression turned sheepish. “Not that my guy couldn’t get tickets to see just about anyone, but I don’t want to mooch. It’s hard to be with someone who could buy and sell you sixty times over, you know?”

“I do.”

First with her husband, and now with Nick, though the two men couldn’t be any more different when it came to spending their wealth. Nick didn’t spend his unless he was absolutely forced to. He’d internalized being poor so long ago that he didn’t even seem to remember he was wealthy most of the time.

It was a refreshing change from Martin “I own the universe” Shawcross, that was for damn sure.

“It’d just be nice to be able to give him the flashy gift for once.” Tori cocked her head. “If you could make that happen.”

Lila smiled. “I’ll make sure you get two tickets for wherever they play in LA, whether it’s the Blue Rhino or the Staples Center. Just leave your contact info with reception when you have it all squared away.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” Tori leaned in to give Lila a quick hug. “I’ll let you get back to work, but it’s so nice to finally meet you.” She turned her head toward Lila’s and whispered, “And to know he’s in good hands.”

Working on not flushing was a priority. Possibly a futile one. “Thanks. We both are.”

“Oh yes, we are, aren’t we, honey?” She winked and patted Lila’s ass before sashaying back out to the reception area.

Lila returned to her office and took out her phone. She had approximately fifteen minutes before her meeting with Donovan, which left her just enough time to send a few texts.

L
R
: Your ex just felt me up.

N
C
: Above the clothes, or under? Is there video?

I
n spite of herself
, she laughed. Actually, there was no spite today whatsoever. Tori seemed like a nice girl. Friendly. And taken, which was also an undeniable plus, Lila had to admit.

She eased a hip on the corner of her desk and texted a reply.

L
R
: Don’t you even want to know who?

N
C
: I’m assuming you’re referring to Jazz. I don’t have a ton of exes & they definitely aren’t in ur daily circle of influence. Besides, I’m stuck on the feeling up part. Would you say it progressed to groping or stayed safely at 2nd base?

L
R
: I would say you have a filthy mind.

N
C
: I do. But the truth is I’d never share you with a woman or man or anyone with hands, eyes, and a mouth. You’re mine. All mine.

L
ila pressed
her phone to her chest. He couldn’t see her. No one had to know she was so gone over him that a couple words could turn her into a hormonal, sweaty-palmed teenager. She hadn’t even been that bad when she
was
a teenager. At his best, Martin had never aroused the same feelings within her with so little.

And she really needed to stop drawing parallels between her ex-husband and Nick. It wasn’t fair. Besides, Nick was incomparable.

She smirked. She must be in love if she was thinking things like that about the guy who’d been a thorn in her side pretty much since the day she’d taken on Oblivion as a client.

Today, she’d make her stand and leave them if she had to in order to take on Nick, for good.

Weird moods and all. Because as easy as it was to fall into patterns of thinking the worst about him, and to assume he was feeling stifled, she couldn’t do that to him anymore. To
them
. Perhaps she’d just lighten up things between them for a while, just to make sure he wasn’t getting antsy.

As far as she knew, she was his first truly serious girlfriend. She didn’t want to rush him. Though she tried to seem as casual as she could, it was hard to deny her thoughts were headed in a way that didn’t scream
low-key relationship
. The moving-in together, the happiness, hell, the six orgasms not one but two nights last week…they all had a way of making a woman think about the future. Even a woman like herself who’d learned to view marriage as the ninth ring of hell.