Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance (45 page)

“The semicolon. Where an author could have stopped a sentence but chose not to.”

His motion stilled. “Your dad, still?”

“Yeah.”

He curved his fingers to her wrist and squeezed.

“And then, it’s all in a timepiece, because… If I could turn back time…” She felt the comfort of another squeeze.

“That’s why the numbers are backward.” The awe in his voice reflected his interpretation.

She picked up her head to flash a surprised smile into his face. “Yes. No one ever notices the face of the clock is backward.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Good. Means no one’s really been this close.” He swiped his tongue over the inked art. “Means I’m the only one who’s watched you sleep.”

“Do I get to hear your secrets now?” She brushed a forefinger over his ink.

“Mine are easy. Anyone with any imagination. You know?”

“Did you design them?”

“All except… One on my back is from a drunken trip to a tattoo shop in Granada.”

“The sugar skull.”

“Uh huh.”

“Granada.”

“Me and Colt spent a month in Central America between tours a few years ago.” Answering the question in her eyes, he went on, “Colt was stuck on Latino women at the time. Me, I went for the monkeys. You
have
to see Monkey Island one day.”

She controlled a giggle at his kid-like enthusiasm and counted herself lucky the sugar skull wasn’t a monkey. Because it was debatable even being Gage whether she could be so hot for a man with a monkey inked on him. Tracing the art on his chest, she ventured, “So no ode to ex-lovers?”

He raised his head to peer into her face, took a puff of the cigarette, and turned his head to exhale. “The weird design on my shoulder blade. It was once an infinity line with my ex-wife’s initials.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear that. But now she had. The initial shock faded and a band-like bond tugged on her heart, tying it to his. He didn’t have to. But he’d told her the truth.

She kissed her way across the music bars entwined with thorns inked below his collarbone and rested her lips on a bicep. Continuing to trace, she studied the guitar neck running up the inside of his left arm and the broken string that twined around his upper arm. Suddenly her fingers stopped. In the dimness of the room and among all of the art decorating his skin, the punctures weren’t vivid. But her fingers felt the barest rise along smooth skin.

Repositioning herself, she propped on her forearms and stared into the brown irises ringing his pupils. His gaze softened, his unending worry these days fading some, giving way to a glow of love. Gulping down the lump forming in her throat before it prevented her from speaking, she questioned. “You using again?”

His shields shot up. The warmth dissipated and left a blank gaze in its wake.

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“The night the label dumped me.” Leaning, he dropped the cigarette into a soda can. “Are you mad?” He caught her neck with his hand, curving his fingers, holding her face to his.

“No.” Disappointed. Confused. But she wasn’t mad. She suddenly only wanted to kiss him. Kiss him until he didn’t need to push junk into his system. Their lips bushed together. Their tongues teased together.

“I’m sorry, Scar. So sorry. Seemed like if I was going in rehab anyway, what did it matter if I went in clean or not.”

Rationalization of an addict.

Although she had experimented and believed she’d done well in creating a natural detox, she knew nothing about the mental therapy that should have accompanied his treatment.

“I don’t care. Just fuck me, Gage. I’m going to miss this… miss you… so much.” When he stroked her with one long finger, she pushed at his wrist and her own twisted demons tumbled out. “Not yet… I want to watch you…”

Gage was happy to indulge as always, but took the game further when she decided that wasn’t how she wanted to play after all. When she reached for him, he pushed her away, all the while pinning those dark eyes to hers as he worked himself. At the last moment, he sank into her with one of his sexy groans. Unbelievably frustrated because she’d spent her time trying to lure him out of the show she’d requested instead of spending her time on herself, she heaved a sigh when his heartbeat began to slow against her chest. And then he whispered in her ear. “How do you want it, Scar, sweet darlin’?” Still connected with her, he lifted his head enough to stare into her face. “Because we’re going to do this all night, every way you want… Soon as I can move again.”

“If you fall asleep…” Her warning was stern, but in actuality, she knew he hadn’t been sleeping and would give up sex to watch him at peace for a few hours.

“I won’t. Plenty of time for sleep in the days to come.”

It was almost morning
when she fell asleep. She wasn’t sure Gage ever had. Waking to his phone alarm was hell, but he was already showered and dressed.

He wouldn’t allow her to ride to Shady Oasis with him.

Holding herself together, she enjoyed one last kiss before he drew apart with the saddest expression she’d ever seen him wear and motioned her into the taxi. The moment he shut the car door, closing her inside, her eyes brimmed. The first tear fell as the taxi pulled away.

She had never flown first class before this last couple of weeks—that she remembered—and she was already feeling spoiled to the spacy comfortable seats with a cushy pillow and the attentiveness of the flight attendants.

Minutes after taking off, she ate a grilled chicken sandwich and sipped through a calming glass of wine. The moment the mess was cleared and the tray folded away, she began to doze.

An hour had passed when she awoke to voices in their section of the flight and with a smile of thanks, accepted another wine spritz from the attendant. The empty seat next to her was a stark reminder of the days of aloneness ahead.

Would he be her same Gage when released from rehab? What if brainwashing against his addictions broke their relationship?

After the first week, they would be able to talk on the phone. After the first month, she’d be able to see him. But what if something changed with him and he didn’t want to pick up where they left off?

Chill, Scar Dar’. It’s gonna be fine
. Did it make her a lunatic to pretend for a second she was hugged against the haven and heat of Gage’s chest?

She needed a better way to distract herself than what were possibly mentally unstable daydreams. Picking up her phone, she was relieved to find wireless on this flight.

Cautiously, remembering her last experience on a plane, she made sure her speakers were muted and although this time she didn’t have a seatmate, tilted her screen so only she could view it.

The website had been bookmarked in the deviant part of her mind since she had discovered it years ago. The Ivy and Bradley video was no longer top center. Thank goodness. Ignoring whatever new couple had this unfortunate honor of most views, she tapped the ‘new’ link.

The title of the most recently uploaded video was enough to almost bring her just eaten food back to the light of day.

Gage Remington and Mystery Beach Babe

She closed out the screen, unwilling to mar the memories of the last twenty-four hours while the soreness between her legs was still a pleasant reminder. Of all the times for his past to come back and bite her.

Taking deep breaths, she strived for an inner Zen. When that didn’t work, she ordered a crown and coke and swallowed it down. She was in the middle of another when she couldn’t stand it any longer. Pulling up the website, she sent a furtive glance around and jabbed with her thumb on the link.

It was Gage all right. His eyes alternately closed in ecstasy and open, either staring down at or beyond the woman in his arms.

Watching again, she was consumed by the beauty of him, of the two of them together.

The mystery beach babe?

Her.

“W
hat did she say?” Ivy dipped her toes into the pool before spreading a towel onto a chaise and plopping down.

Scarlette had come from a half hour video chat with a lawyer her publicist had referred. She had begun the process of getting the video removed the moment she’d returned to the privacy of Gage’s house, and continued to make and return calls from Big Sur. What she hadn’t done was call Gage.

“It’s exactly as you said. We were outside with no expectation of privacy. But since a zoom lens was used, there’s a possibility they will have to take it down.”

“Did she say anything about the person who uploaded it? About buying it? Making an offer?

“Yeah. She said if going this route, to get Gage to do it and do it before I’m identified.”

Ivy was in the motion of lying down, but she popped up. “Because if it is deemed legal to leave up, it’s going to be worth a
lot
. Holy cow.”

“I can’t talk to Gage for a week.”

“His lawyer can!” Ivy’s eyes flew open wide with that revelation. “They’ll put his lawyer right through to him.”

“But he’s in rehab… This sort of shit could be a setback to his health.” Scarlette pinched the bridge of her nose and ceased pacing to sit on the chaise near Ivy’s. “Besides. The documentary releases in theaters tonight. Somebody’s going to put a face to the random beach babe.” She forced a wry smile.

“But if they can pull it before someone does…”

“Yeah. But if they can’t, well…” Scarlette shrugged. “I’m not sure I care. It’s sexy. And even if I don’t get to keep Gage at the end of all of this, then at least there’s that.”

“Scarla Smythe!” Ivy feigned a properly shocked air.

“Scarlette Conterra,” she corrected, and curved her lips in a reflective smile. “I’m changing my name back. To what it is on my birth certificate. It’s in the works. With all the other legal work when I get back to L.A.”

Being with Ivy
was like stepping a decade back in time. Her friend was still the same silly, sarcastic, sweet best friend she’d always been. Except for the several years Scarlette had only thought she’d been. But it was easy to let the past go when the blender was constantly whirring out cocktails and the Pacific Ocean stretched into infinity.

The only non-blissful part of this trip had been her decision to bring Rascal. Gage had turned him loose at Arrowhead Lake with no problems of him straying. When she did the same here at Big Sur, the animal took off, sometimes down the steep hillside to the ocean and only after much coaxing returned. She wondered if he was searching for Gage and had begun bringing him out of the house on a leash only. This led to him howling from inside the house while they sunned, or pulling at the tied leash hard enough to drag their chairs around when she wasn’t walking him.

A package arrived by private courier on the morning of her birthday. The note inside from Gage had her choked with emotion by the time she read to the last line.

Happy Birthday Scar Dar

Inside the box was a wide silver bracelet with antiqued engraved etchings. A single rose was the prominent art piece and it was surrounded by swirls. Looking closer, she saw them to be thorny vines with leaves.