Melody of Truth (Love of a Rockstar Book 3) (17 page)

“WELL, WELL,” ASH MOCKED. “LOOK
who decided to grace us with his presence.”

I planted my ass in the chair on the right side of Matthew, who was too busy texting Camilla to notice my arrival. I took a sip of my iced Americano and a lazy grin spread across my face. Being late was worth it to indulge in a round of steamy sex in the shower.

“He doesn’t seem too apologetic.” Noah peered closer at my blissed out expression. “In fact, he seems downright happy as a clam.”

“Because he had sex with Melody,” Ash practically yelled.

My head swiveled around the cafe and I indicated with my hand for him to lower his voice. The last thing Melody and I needed was for the press to get a whiff of our romance. It would be a PR nightmare, which was why Matthew suddenly took an interest in our conversation.

His phone almost fumbled free of his grasp. “You did what?! With who? Are you a freaking idiot? She is engaged, and currently a paid employee of the band.”

“I’m aware,” I said coolly.

“If you’re aware, then you should have kept your fucking zipper closed.”

“
My
business is exactly that—
mine
, so stay out of it.”

“I didn’t hire her to sleep with you. I hired her to a do a job.”

A low growl emitted from my throat. “She is still doing her job, and damn well at that. Our relationship doesn’t affect that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Our eyes locked in a battle as the air shimmered with tension. I gripped my seat, ready to jump to a fighting position if the situation called for it.

Ash banged his fist on the table. “Hey assholes, we aren’t in high school any more. We don’t fight over girls, especially right before a show.”

Mathew rolled his neck around, exhaling a breath. “You’re right.”

I was still pissed as hell at him that he thought Melody would compromise her job because of me. She was a professional. Nonetheless, drawing blood wouldn’t solve anything.

“Having Camilla around usually makes you more tolerable,” I grumbled.

“Trust me, I would be a much bigger pain in the ass if she weren't here.”

Ash picked off a piece of a cinnamon roll and shoved it into his mouth. “The next tour we go on, we are upgrading our bus and hiring someone else to manage this shit show.”

“Damn straight. I’m a lead singer, not a paper pusher.”

“Hear hear!” Ash and Matthew clinked their glasses together. Ash turned his attention to me. “Speaking of the tour, where do we stand with the benefit show?”

“On one broken leg. There aren’t enough funds left over to cover the cost of Marco’s son treatment.”

“How much moolah are we talking?”

“Sixty grand, and unless you have that lying around somewhere, I don’t know what else to do except pray.”

“Have you heard of medical tourism?” Noah asked casually.

“No. What is it?”

“It’s basically when someone who needs some kind of medical procedure travels to a different country to seek treatment. Look it up. It could potentially help.” When he saw our looks of bafflement about this newfound knowledge of his, he shrugged. “My dad is a doctor.”

“Does the patient have to have insurance?”

“I don’t think so, although I’m pretty sure the patients have to pay an upfront deposit…”

“Can you can talk to your dad about it? I would love to know more about it from an actual medical professional and not some hack on Google.”

“Sure.”

“Thank you. You have no idea what this could mean.”

“A happily-ever-after with Melody?” Ash spread his hands wide and painted a mental picture. “I can see you riding off into the sunset, her hair blowing in the wind as a dramatic soundtrack begins to play in the background.” 

I hurled a donut at him and we laughed. “You and Matthew are vying for the title of biggest asshole,” I joked.

Competitive by nature, Ash arched a brow. “What do I get if I win?”

“A sparkly princess crown.”

“Lame. Money is way better.”

“You’re digging into the wrong pockets man. My ex-wife is determined to clean me out.”

It was hard to believe Bunny and I had once been in love and planned to start a family. Now the thought of raising kids with her now caused a shiver of dread to run down my spine. Bunny was not the maternal type, which was why it had shocked me when she’d taken Bruno. She couldn’t care less about the clumsy adorable oaf, but she knew I did, which just threw salt into the wound.

Noah scraped his chair back and wandered to the bathroom as Matthew got up to order his third coffee of the day. It was only nine thirty; no wonder he was an anxious son of a bitch.

Ash looked at me over the table. “Marriage, the death of all men.”

I laughed. “You sure have a flair for the dramatic this morning.”

“I slept with an actress last night.”

“Please tell me you kept it down with Melody’s sister sleeping in the bunk above you.”

A twinkle glinted in his eyes as his lips turned upward. “We were silent as lambs.”

Damn. Jane must have gotten an earful.

When the guys returned, we started our meeting and discussed various topics Matthew deemed important like the budget, the upcoming leg of the tour, and if we needed to add a smoke machine to our show (the consensus was no).

Thirty minutes later we were done and Matthew bolted, anxious to get back to Camilla. For the first time in a long while, I also had someone I was anxious to see, but Melody and her sister were hanging out.

On the way out the door, the magazine rack near the entrance caught my attention. I avoided gossip rags like the plague, but a certain cover with my name front and center had me yanking that particular issue off the shelf.

The headline read:
SEAN DALLIS’ STEAMY NEW ROMANCE.

Turning to the page the article was on, my heart stopped dead in my chest. There was a blurry picture of Melody and me in the pool with our lips locked, arms tangled together, accompanied by whatever bullshit the “reporter” had written.

Ash uttered a low whistle behind me. “Damn dude. I swear it wasn’t me.”

“Of course it wasn't. You’re not a traitor.”

I had done as Melody asked and tipped the pool boy a cool two hundred bucks. That greedy asshole had most likely gotten triple that sum when he’d sold our privacy to the tabloids.

My eyes skimmed the article, and a measure of relief flowed through my veins when I saw they didn’t mention Melody’s name. For now, she was safe, but almost eight years of being in the public eye had taught me that the vultures would keep circling until they swept in for the kill.

“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?!” MELODY
busted onto the tour bus soon after I got back from the coffee shop.

Red in the face, she waved around the offending piece of trash. I had planned to text her with a warning, but my phone had died.

“It should be illegal to snap photos of people without their permission!” she yelled.

“Technically that would be against the first amendment.” Ash withered under her seething glare. “Never mind.”

Guiding her to a seat by her elbow, I grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed the top, and set it in front of her. Water splashed against the wall as she hurled it with an impressive amount of strength. The bottle bounced on the floor then rolled to a stop at Ash’s feet. Melody’s eyes widened, caught off guard by her own actions. A sharp cry of anguish escaped her mouth and she buried her head in her hands.

I shot a look at Ash and Noah, and they left us alone. I slid into the booth next to Melody, hating the fact that she had been dragged into the pitfalls of fame.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“No,
I'm
sorry.”

When she lifted her chin, she had black mascara streaked down her cheeks, but she still managed to steal my breath. “It isn’t your fault. We were careless and both got swept up in the moment.”

“Which I don’t regret one bit.” I wiped away the makeup with the hem of my T-shirt. “What I do regret is believing the pool boy was actually a decent human.”

“I thought you paid him off.”

“I did, but it obviously wasn’t enough.”

Melody groaned. “Just when I thought my day was actually on the right track, this happens and blows it smithereens. What if Marco sees these pictures? He will be torn apart.”

“Your name isn’t mentioned.”

“The pictures aren’t that blurry. Anyone with a half of brain can put the two pieces together and figure out it’s me.”

“Don’t worry. We are in this together.” Squeezing her hand, I wished there was more I could offer to sooth her nerves. “What did you end up doing this morning? Wait, let me guess: you laid around and smelled my pillow.”

Her laugher was music to my ears. “Gross, no. I went to breakfast with my dad.”

“How was it?”

“Good, really good. He apologized and said he was upset because my mother would have wanted me to have a fairytale and he knew Marco wasn’t my Prince Charming. It made me realize he was right. I was forcing Marco to be my happy ending when he wasn’t.”

My heart did a strange flip in my chest at what I was desperately hoping she was implying. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

As her head dipped forward, I didn’t wait for her answer before my mouth crashed upon hers. She sighed against my lips and opened for me. Tangling my fingers into her hair, I relished in the fact that from now on I could seek out a thousand different kisses from Melody within the course of a day—hungry, desperate, gentle, filled with love. She was mine to throw onto the mattress and fuck senseless, she was mine to wake up next to, she was mine to cook breakfast for and, she was mine to watch as she laughed as I drew smiley faces in the syrup. She was mine.

Melody let out a meow of protest as I pulled away and smiled. “We’ll finish that kiss later,” I promised. “But for right now we have a few things to discuss.”

Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You’re no fun.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to prove you wrong.”

Our heads swiveled toward the bus door that banged open with a loud
thunk
. Melody’s sister looked pissed to high heaven and was followed by Ash. He mouthed an apology.

Jane pointed a finger at Melody. “Your dramatic exits are seriously getting on my nerves!”

She flashed her sister a sheepish smile. “Sorry, but when we were walking back I saw this…” Melody threw the magazine at her feet. Jane picked it up and thumbed to the marked page. Her lips moved as she read the article and then she laughed, actually laughed, as if our now public affair was funny. Did she not understand the ramifications? Probably not. Twenty-one-year-olds never did.

“Who snapped this photo? He sucks as a photographer.”

“That is beside the point. If anyone figures out that’s me, and/or if for some reason Marco sees this, I’m fucked. My career could be potentially be called into question, not to mention the authenticity of this documentary.”