Played (Elite PR) (13 page)

“And that’s a lot, right?”

“A helluva lot. This is great. There is major buzz about you and your launch. If all goes well, we will see quantifiable sales from the social media campaign. I don’t want to jinx it, but you are going to be a star again.”

“I don’t need to be a star.” He took her hands and kissed each finger. “But some sales sure would be nice.”

“It’s happening for you Aaron. I can feel it. So go out there and finish up that album.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted before walking out the door.

Mel was on a cloud as she ticked off every single one of her to-do items. The guys were still going at it, and though she tried not to eavesdrop, she couldn’t help it, so she cracked her door open to hear what was going on.

“No,” Jayden said, soft and low. “Stripped down. A lot of space. Like this.” He played the chorus and hummed along, “let the lyrics do it for this one, and we’ll do a bluesy sound behind it.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said, before belting out the words. “That’s it.”

She heard the beer cans crack open after he finished. “Hey, Melody,” Jayden called. “Get your sweet behind out here so we have someone to play to.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice, though he could refrain from talking about her
sweet behind
, thank you very much.

Aaron sounded great but looked a little foggy. Unease prickled in her belly. She looked around the room and counted the beer cans scattered about, and noted the half-empty tequila bottle that wasn’t in the apartment before Jayden arrived, quickly figuring out the reason for Aaron’s dreamy demeanor.

This might be part of the
process
, but it made her jittery. And she couldn’t say a thing. It wasn’t her place. So if she couldn’t beat them, she guessed she’d join them.

After several more beers and the rest of the tequila bottle, they were all feeling pretty comfortable, and Mel forgot all about her jitters.

Aaron and Jayden shared stories about the old days, of growing up together and the first days in the band. It was the first chance Mel really caught a glimpse of who Aaron was before he came to Atlanta, who he was outside of the bubble they’d been living in for the last week.

Though, on several occasions, when Jayden was reminiscing aloud, Aaron would level a look on him that said ‘go any further and you’re going to lose a testicle.’ Part of her was thankful, the other part was curious.

Maybe if she heard what really happened when they were traveling the country, she’d heed her brain’s warning, the one that’d been telling her to end the physical part of their relationship before she got hurt. Trouble was, whenever Aaron was around, it was her body making all of the decisions.

A phone rang from the other room and Aaron wiped a hand over his face. “Shit, I was supposed to call Rita when we got back today. You two entertain yourselves for minute, this shouldn’t take too long.”

When he left, Jayden got up from the stool he’d brought in from kitchen and plopped down next to her on the couch.

She was buzzed, but it didn’t stop her from noticing that something wasn’t quite right with Jayden. The way his eyes darted around the room, unable to focus, set warning bells off in her head.

“So Melody,” he said, draping an arm over her shoulder. “How’d you get to be so chummy with my boy?”

She didn’t like his tone, so she kept her answer vague and guarded. “I used to live around here.”

“You did?” he said, squeezing her a little closer, letting his eyes rake over her body. He was way too close, and her body finally listened to her brain as she pulled away from him.

But he anticipated her move and tightened his grip. “So are you ready for us,” he said in her ear, before his hands snaked around her waist.

A strangled scream ripped from her throat, and in the next instant, Aaron dove at him like a linebacker, breaking the glass on the coffee table. In seconds, he had Jayden up against the wall, his hand fisted in his shirt.

“Get the fuck off her,” he yelled. Jayden was dumbfounded. Drunk. Stoned. Stupid.

“Sorry,” he said, making no move to fight him. “I thought…”

She waited for an explanation that didn’t come.

“It ain’t like that,” Aaron spit out, and Mel thought she might be sick. They’d done this before? Shared a woman?

His words that day she asked him about his past came to her now.
Rock and Roll has nothing on the crazy shit that goes on in Country. You have no idea.

She sure did now.

“I’m sorry,” Jay said over and over in his drunken stupor.

“Sleep it off, man,” Aaron said. “Take the spare bedroom and sleep it off.”

Now, wait a minute.

“You’re staying with me,” Aaron said, reaching for her hand, not giving her any choice in the matter. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

He didn’t say a word as he led her to his room, but she wasn’t going to let this go.

“Are you going to tell me what that shit was all about?” she asked, taking a seat on his bed.

“I’d rather not,” he said, helping her remove her shoes.

“Well, are into that? Were you expecting me to go along with it?”

“Fuck, no,” he said, stroking her legs now. “I told you what it was like before. Mel, I wasn’t myself back then, and I have no intention of going back to that, ever.”

Mel knew she should be mad at him, disgusted even. Who does that shit? And what kind of world did he live in? And worse, could she believe him? Her mind was foggy, her thoughts scattered. She needed sleep.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” Aaron pulled the covers down while Mel slipped off her clothes, leaving her tank and panties on. He followed her into the bed, his arm wrapped around her stomach, and he pulled her close.

She let him.

For now…

Chapter Sixteen

A
aron woke in a panic when he felt for Mel in his bed and she wasn’t there. His mind went to the worst case scenario—which he realized would be her leaving, especially after everything that had happened that night, and how shitty she must’ve felt after the way Jayden treated her—as if she weren’t doing a real, worthwhile job for him and was only there for his entertainment. She had been so disrespected, and that was the last thing he wanted her to feel after she’d done so much for him. He respected her more than she’d ever know.

If Jayden ruined this for him, he’d kill the bastard.

He jolted up and took inventory of the apartment. No sign of her in his bedroom—her belongings were all gone. Even her smell had faded. Hallway—same thing. He moved to the door to the spare bedroom and stood outside of it, too chickenshit to turn the knob. He couldn’t bear to see it empty.

“Mel,” he called out instead. “Melody.” He swallowed the lump lodged in his throat.

“In here,” she said and he almost broke down.

He followed her voice into the kitchen, and there she was, set up at the table, as she had been for the past few weeks.

“I thought you left,” he said, taking a seat across from her. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked absolutely worn out, and it made him feel like hell.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said. “We had a deal.”

“I’m not going to hold you to it after what you had to put up with last night. But can we talk about it?”

“No,” she blurted. “Not now. I think it would be best to go back to our original business deal, to keep our relationship professional and honor your rules. Remember? No complications.”

Right.
If only she knew, she’d never be a complication to him.

D
ays passed and they never did talk about it. He couldn’t bring himself to. To have his past collide with his present in that way, in front of
her
, was more than he could take. After Jayden left, Mel moved back into the spare bedroom. It was hell. He wanted her in his bed, but how could he ask after she witnessed the ugliness that had been his life?

She didn’t hold it against him though. She was sweet and professional and her pleasant self. But he didn’t want pleasant. He wanted her cursing and laughing and moving under him screaming his name.

Not very likely.

“Let’s try it again,” Mel said as they practiced his act for the launch party.

She was pestering him about the way he was playing, the look on his face, the tone of his voice, and he was about ready to lose it.

“I’ve got it,” he told her. “The single is already cut. I think I know how to sing the goddamn song, Mel.”

“Yeah, you cut it in a studio without an audience. You had the privacy you love and you could scowl all you want.”

Why couldn’t she just leave him the hell alone?

“Why should this be different?” he challenged. “This song is about a freaking nightmare.” Most of the album was dark, raw, and gritty.

“It is, and it’s so emotional. So incredible. Let us feel that with you. If you’re going to do this, darlin’, you have to do it all the way. You have to be an entertainer.”

He groaned, not looking at her, picking at his guitar. He didn’t have his band up there with him, which was part of the problem, but he wasn’t about to haul them over to Atlanta for a dress rehearsal. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see Jayden yet. Not after last night’s fiasco.

So he dug deep, and when she said, “Play for me,” he did just that.

His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time.

It wasn’t perfect, but he was getting there.

Chapter Seventeen

“D
id you know Margaret Mitchell only wrote one book in her entire life,” Mel told Aaron once he stumbled into the kitchen and downed a cup of coffee. She let him ease into the day until she couldn’t take it any longer. She’d been up since six a.m., setting up an official campaign headquarters at the kitchen table, and she had big plans for the day.

Poor Aaron had been up late again working on a song, which was something she hoped to address. If he was receptive.

He was still a little ornery from the way she’d pestered him during yesterday’s session, and exhausted from trying to finish his album. She wanted to cheer him up and, truth be told, kick him in the ass a little. Since he’d walked into her life, he’d inspired her to go after what she wanted and do things she never thought she could.

It was time to return the favor.

Aaron now had four songs for the album, but he only seemed happy with one of them. In her mind, it was totally okay for him to feel that way. Though she was over the moon for the song she inspired, there was no denying his single was off the charts amazing.

“Who the hell is Margaret Mitchell?” He finally responded, as he checked out the large calendar on the table and picked up the rainbow of sticky notes sitting next to it. He began peeling them off one by one.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” she said, painfully disappointed. “You’re a writer, how can you not know the author of
Gone with the Wind
?”

“I’m a songwriter.” He mimed playing the guitar. “And I’m using the term loosely. But you’re right, that is a little embarrassing, especially when we’re in Atlanta and all. Isn’t this where she wrote the book?”

She could feel her eyes growing wide.
He knew that?

“Impressive, cowboy. Yes, this is where she wrote the book.”

“Didn’t she win the Pulitzer or something?” he said in a yawn. Poor guy, she definitely needed to help him fix this.

“Honey, now you’re starting to redeem yourself.”

“I really hope you mean that,” he said softly. His eyes warmed in a way that she liked to think was only for her.

She knew his response wasn’t about the game of trivia they had going on. It was about what had happened when Jayden was in town. And maybe, deep down, that’s what she was talking about, too. He’d handled the situation with Jayden the best way he could, and it hardly seemed fair to hold him accountable for his band mate’s action. He’d told her many times about how out of control his lifestyle used to be. It wasn’t like he was trying to hold anything back from her.

She pulled the sticky notes away from his nervous hands, placing a bright green one on his nose. It was best to keep things light for now, so she continued with her story. “So Margaret Mitchell, Atlanta native, as you know, wrote one of the most beloved novels of all time, and never wrote another. She’d been a journalist and wrote hundreds of newspaper articles, and some others things as well, but never another novel.”

“Why not?” He leaned against the table now, getting into the story. The way he listened to her always made her feel important. Smart even. Like she had something worthwhile to say. Or maybe it was that she felt so comfortable around him that she said worthwhile things. Either way, he lifted her up.

“Well,” she went on. “Margaret was hit by a car on Peachtree Street and died, but it was many years later. Who knows? Maybe she only had that one book in her.”

“Jesus, Mel.” His words were harsh, but he was smirking now. “I was getting ready for some nice uplifting story and you smack me in the face with death. And hey, isn’t your office building on Peachtree Street?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same one. Didn’t you know half the streets in this city are named Peachtree?”

“I didn’t.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you telling me this, anyway?”

“Because sometimes one is all you need.” She took his hand then, unable to stop herself. How she missed those capable hands. “Maybe your single is the one big story you have, and maybe you’ll continue to write things that people enjoy but you’ll never reach the level of satisfaction you did with that one. That’s okay. If writing doesn’t feel good to you, get a new songwriter to help, or get some of the guys from the band back together. Hell, work it out with Jayden if you need to. But stop killing yourself over this.”

“You’d be comfortable if I worked with Jayden again?” He tightened his grip on her hand.

“Yes,” she said, feeling the weight of the last few days lift. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be around when you do. But this is your career we’re talking about.”

“And you don’t think I’d be giving up if I worked with some other people on this?”

“God no, Aaron. You proved you can write; you don’t have to do it all on your own. Who does that, anyway?”

“I thought it’d be the only way to stay in control,” he admitted, finally getting to the real issue.

“Maybe the only way to stay in control is to share the burden so you don’t burn yourself out. And don’t take this the wrong way, but those rules you first told me about—no band, no relationships, nothing on the scene in Nashville? I think your rules suck.”

“Hey now,” he released her hand and pointed a finger in her direction. “Those are fighting words.”

“I’m serious,” she said. “I think they’ve been a crutch so you can avoid what happened. I think you need to go out and break every one of them.”

“What are you saying, Mel?” Those soft eyes disappeared and a pair of guarded ones took their place. He wasn’t going to like this, but…

“I think you need to go up to Nashville for a visit.”

H
e packed his bag that night because his flight was early the next morning. He couldn’t believe he was going back to Nashville after all of this time. His hands shook thinking about it, which only made him more determined.

Mel had a point. He had to stop hiding and hoping the past would fade away. Because that wasn’t happening. It was up to him to change his story. Jayden and another songwriter they used to be tight with said yes when he asked if they’d work with him. They were the best and that’s who he needed on this.

He tossed the bag next to his guitar by the side of his bedroom door before jumping into bed. The clock flashed 12:10.

At 2:17, he was no closer to dreamland. He wasn’t the only one.

Mel padded by his door on a trip back from the bathroom and stopped when he rolled over. “Can’t sleep either?” she whispered.

“Not a wink.”

“Want some company?”

“More than you know.” He flipped the blanket over, and Mel immediately covered her eyes. “I’m decent.” He chuckled, showing her he was wearing his boxer briefs. “I didn’t want to accidently shock you again, especially with everything that’s happened.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” Was he imagining it, or did she look a little disappointed?

She climbed in and her scent hit him instantly. This time, though, it somehow relaxed him rather than giving him a raging hard-on. Hell, that was almost worse. Because that meant his need for her was becoming much more than physical.

And that was one problem he wasn’t sure he had the strength to face.