Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance (46 page)

Ivy kept the drinks flowing that afternoon, and lulled by the deceptive peace of the ocean waves far below their cliff, they discussed going into town for dinner as they had the night before.

Scarlette shrugged as she slurped the last of a margarita. “The town seems quiet enough.”

“It’s crazy to think how changed your world was the moment you opened your eyes this morning,” Ivy mused, twirling her straw.

Still unable to keep from looking at her bracelet for more than a minute, she gazed at it again while reaching for her phone.
This is stupid
. She clicked on the browser icon.
So stupid
. She stared at the blank search bar.
But I have to know
. She typed her name in. Hit search. Sipped, and then promptly coughed the sip up.

Scarlette Conterra… estimated billions… daughter of rock icon Tyler Conterra …only heir… of trust fund age…  

In one form or fashion, headline after headline heralded the news of her birthday and what it meant. Because of the documentary, her part in it, and the publicity, there were pictures to accompany the news pieces.

“I don’t think we should go out, Ivy.”

But they did. Ivy had a devil may care attitude. And Scarlette felt silly and paranoid.

Dinner at The Star Fish was fabulous.

Drinks and dancing at Ten Club was fun until she saw a cell phone aimed her way.

Paranoid
.

Cell Phone Girl made eye contact and instead of putting the phone away, she nudged her date, motioned with her head, and the guy looked her way.

Not paranoid when they’re really after you!

She turned her back on the couple.

Rapping her fingers on the bar, she waited for Ivy to return from dancing with some guy who’d been buying them drinks.

“We need to go!” Grabbing her wallet, Scarlette slid from the stool.

“What? No. I like him!” Ivy took the tone of a five-year-old who was having her ice cream jacked.

“This girl took pictures of me.”

Ivy’s preschool pout disappeared. She listened to the description of the couple, looked over Scarlette’s shoulder, and confirmed with a nod. “You’re right. She’s staring right at you. So is the chick at the table next to her. I can’t believe it’s happening already.”

Ivy clamped her mouth closed when her man joined them. Scarlette politely refused another drink when he offered and frowned when Ivy ordered.

“I have a bad feeling.” Scarlette confessed to Ivy after dragging her to the ladies room. “We need to go.”

“I really like this guy…” Gone was Ivy’s earlier whine, but still she protested.

“Hiiii…” A woman about twenty two slurred the greeting while looking at the two of them reflected in the mirror. Next, she turned to address Scarlette in the flesh. “Some of the girls are saying you’re Scarlette Conterra.”

“Charlotte who?” Ivy jumped in front of Scarlette, her brows puckered into a confused frown. Less than a minute later, she had the drunken chick flustered and scurrying out the door.

 The moment they were out of the club and closed in the taxi, Ivy groaned. “What is wrong with people? Why do they have to lose their shit just because…” She trailed off when Scarlette frowned at her and cut her eyes to the driver.

Ivy turned her attention to the window, likely still pouting over not getting the chance to bang her guy in some dark corner, and Scarlette pulled up her phone’s recent search history.

Bad feeling validated
.

Gage Remington’s ‘Mystery Beach Babe’ already had a name.

Gage Remington and Scarlette Conterra Hot Hot Hot
!

Without taking the time to text back, he tapped a thumb to her picture and she picked up before it even rang on his end.

“Hey Scar. It’s getting dark. I was hoping you’re home.”

He knew her transportation to and from Big Sur was by chopper, not crowded highways, but knowing she was home before dusk would settle his mind before he crashed for the evening.

“Yep. Got in about an hour ago. I texted.”

“Oh. Yeah. I see it now.” He paused a second, eyeing his surroundings to ensure his semi-privacy. “Listen. I got a voicemail from my lawyer about the video. They are issuing a new cease and desist because their expert is saying the angle of the recording looks like a drone.”

“A drone? Will that make a difference?”

The hope in her question was evident and he wanted more than anything to make it a reality. Scar had been calm and matter of fact when telling him of the video’s existence the first day he could take phone calls. Her legal firm had already been on it. She had texted him the link, and he had shamelessly watched it too many times in a row.

“I don’t know, darlin’. There would be a lot of things that matter. Like where the drone was when it got that clip. But since the laws are really blurry right now, they think it’s worth a try.”

“Have you had any reaction from your label about it?” Her voice was breathy and scuffling noises bled through the phone.

“Not from the label. But Colt said they’re trying to figure out the best way to spin it.” Another thud from her side. He picked at the sticker on his water bottle and joked, “Not even in the band and still giving them hell.”

“Good. Screw them. Karma’s a bitch.” Something scraped, and she spoke over it.

He loved it when she talked like that. Loved her more for taking his side when he had brought his problems on himself. Loved her again seconds later when being the sweet, fair person she was, she retracted her vicious outburst.

“Shit. I shouldn’t say that. I don’t wish bad on Colt and the rest. Just the talking heads.” Another bump.

“What’re you doing?”

“Housekeeping brought down some stuff that was stored in the apartment. I didn’t even know there was an apartment. Any other secret rooms in this house you want to tell me about?”

A chuckle vibrated his throat. “Nope. I want to keep them all secret. I may need to hide you away one day.” Now that they were past the stressful subject, he kicked out his feet and settled more comfortably in the cushy chair he’d commandeered. “You knew though,” he insisted of the roomy apartment over the garage. Remember, you asked about the windows that day when we were pulling in the garage.”

“And you said storage. Not two-bedroom apartment with a gym off of it.” A smile sounded in her retort. “About the storage, I just stacked the boxes in your hookup room.”

“It’s not a hookup room.”

“No? ’Cause a box of this many condoms could only belong in―”

“Scar…” He knew she was playing with him, but there were times he didn’t want to remember life before her, and this was one of them.

“Okay. Sorry. I was just messing with you. I miss you here. Seeing that frown between your eyes when you get all huffy like this…”

“And I miss shutting you up.”

“Mmh hmm. How do you like shutting me up best? With your tongue in my mouth, or your―”

“Damn, I’m not where I can have this conversation…” He eyed his fellow rehabbers. At this time, he could only use his phone while in the common room.

“You could just listen. And I could whisper dirty things―”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Fine.” The scuffling and dragging noises resumed. “So what’s happening there?”

“This evening’s entertainment choices are an action packed game of spades, a gazillion piece puzzle…” He let his eyes drift around the room again and blew out a bored breath. “Or TV in my room.”

“What about swimming?”

“Pool is closed for the night. The cleaner thing floats in it. I went trail riding earlier.”

“As in horses?”

“Yeah.” The throb of his sore butt had been all but gone until he thought about it again. Now he shifted in the overstuffed chair. “Logan get you registered for your classes?”

“Mmh, hmm. I start day after tomorrow. Listen, about that. The security—his name is Mike—he’s just driving me, right? Because he thinks he’s going with me to classes.”

“He is. Where you go, he goes.”

“No. Not to classes. There’s no place for him to be. He’d stick out and everyone would know―”

“Everyone needs to know. That’s what he’s there for. Deterrent is a big part of protection.”

“No! I’ve done everything you said. I agreed to him moving into the apartment over the garage, as weird as it is to have someone here. So let me have my say in this. He can drive me and pick me up―”

“And go anywhere you go. End of discussion.” The phone was so quiet, he believed she might have hung up. “Scar?”

“What?”

“Please?” Her light breaths barely reached his ears, and closing his eyes, he imagined the angry flecks of gray that appeared in her eyes like storm clouds in a blue sky. “We don’t know what’s going to happen yet. You’re all over the internet with everything that’s going on. So you’ve got the possibility of paparazzi, the public, and who knows what crazies that video will bring out. I wouldn’t have to worry about you so much if the bodyguard is always with you.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” Lowering his voice to a whisper, he breathed the vow into the phone and soaked the sound into his soul when she repeated it. “You gonna be able to sleep?” Although the trust had become hers the day of her birthday, she was signing the documents the next morning. It eased his mind to know it would be done at his house, and his father would be there with her. Afterward, she was flying to New York for her last scheduled talk show appearance.

“Probably not.” A laugh accompanied that honest answer, and on his end, he smiled along with her. “I’m going to try though. A long bath and a big glass of wine. You been sleeping okay?”

“Usually. But tonight I’m sure I’ll be awake all night. Thinking of you in a bath.” His flirtation came natural, but the truth was different.

Gnawing at the inside of his lip, he considered the last few times he’d tried solo in the shower. His horror when nothing happened. He’d since learned some of the temporary natural supplements in his daily regimen to boost certain hormonal and chemical levels enough that his body didn’t crave outside chemicals were the cause of getting up to the plate and not being able to swing.

“You sure you don’t want to see if we fuck on the phone as good as everywhere else? ’Cause I could be in a bath in ten seconds.” The longing in her voice was unmistakable.

This was his woman. It didn’t matter whether he could or couldn’t perform on his end. The distance between them was his fault, and she continually made the best of it in the calls and texts that flew between them.

“Draw the water.” His growl was guttural, wrought with emotion. That was another thing. Lately, he was an unwilling rider on a sensitivity seesaw. This, according to the medical staff, was a side effect of the herbal combination he was ingesting.

He found privacy outside in a shadowy corner on the upper terrace. Shivering in the cold desert night, he fed her the hot words she wanted to hear. Even without his body in sync with his mind, his starved ears soaked up every whimper and moan, every hitch of her breath as she chased her climax. When her breathing leveled, he faked his intention to head to his room and shower pronto. But the second the call disconnected, he realized the uncomfortable fit of his jeans.

Under ten minutes later, he stood beneath the spray of a shower nozzle. The shower curtain gapped enough to put his tablet, propped behind the sink fixture in his direct line of vision. The full frontal view of Scar was slightly pixelated due to the extreme magnification of the video frame, but anything he couldn’t see clearly was imprinted in a hundred memories in high resolution. Swollen in his hand, his cock throbbed for release, and then…

Ah, shit, yeah…

He was back!

Collapsed on his forearms against the wall of the shower stall, he caught his breath and waited to feel his legs. The video ended and then automatically began to replay. Stretching an arm through the curtain, he stopped it, and as he soaped up, his fury grew.

She was rock royalty—a rock ’n roll princess. To have her bare body—as perfect as it was—on display for the entire world to view was a disrespect he couldn’t abide. Personally, it tapped into something deeper. A possessiveness he’d never felt. An unwillingness to share something that should be for his eyes only.