Savage Hearts (7 page)

Even more frustrating, Soren knew it was
him
. Knew he didn’t quite fit. It wasn’t just in the studio, either. Things had changed in all of their lives, for everyone but Soren.

Or, at least, that’s what Soren had been telling himself for the past month. Sounded like a plausible reason, and like something that would just take some time to fix. But now…

Where was his head?

With Cate Kennedy, for fuck’s sake.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since she stormed out of Ford’s office. That had been an impressive exit, even more so when he’d heard her yell at Ford on the way out. He smiled thinking about it—he had no doubt he was in fact an idiot client. He’d never had the temperament for taking orders and playing nice, and he wasn’t going to start now, no matter how legally advisable it was. Cate insisted on taking the case? That was fine by him. Just meant she’d be close. And her trying to give orders just made him want her more.

Besides, Ford had convinced him that he was pretty much screwed without her. He had to take the best representation he could, if only for these four other idiots that he cared about.

“Dude!”

Soren looked up to find Declan staring at him. Gage looked like he was about to take a nap under his drums, Brian was laughing at him, and Eric was just being quietly professional, like always.

“What the hell, man?” Declan said.

“Yeah,” Soren said, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t working.”

“Seriously, though, where is your head at?” Brian laughed. “I bet it’s better than here.”

Soren smiled. Couldn’t help it. But it was enough—Brian whooped in delight, like a little kid.
A sick, twisted little kid.

“I freaking
knew
it!” Brian said. “It’s a chick.
Definitely a chick.
Multiple chicks? Come on, dude,
don’t
hold out.”

“Seriously?” Declan said.

Even Gage was paying attention.

“All of you can go fuck right off,” Soren said. “This isn’t a slumber party, and who I screw is none of your business.”

Declan smiled. “Come on, Soren, the only thing you like better than writing your guitar riffs is nailing—”

“Watch it,” Soren said.

For some reason he was not in the mood. He knew they were all agitated by how hard it was to write this album, and even though no one would say anything, they were all worried about this stupid lawsuit. Soren knew they needed to blow off steam, but doing it at Cate’s expense wasn’t going to fly.

Had he really just thought that?

Soren had to laugh. He was never the white knight type. What the hell had happened to him? Ever since he’d touched Cate Kennedy, ever since she’d talked to him, open like she was, bare, saying things that he understood even if he couldn’t explain why, it was like he’d woken the hell up. The old Soren, the man who used to plow through several women a night, who just couldn’t get enough—he finally, finally felt like that again, only just for her.

Which felt weird.

But it also felt like a goddamn fever. He couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop thinking about her and how she radiated need. How it was the mirror image of the things he used to need. If he let himself think about it too much, he’d want to explode. The truth was, when
Soren
found out the last woman he’d been with had lied to him about a pill addiction then overdosed, it had done more than temporarily break up the band. I had brought back a whole bunch of very personal demons for Soren, most of them having to do with the one woman he never talked about: Julia. And so Soren hadn’t touched another woman since then. It was antithetical to his nature, and it meant he was pent up and ready to explode, but he just couldn’t do it. Not when he feared that every woman would want more than he could offer, and not when he was sure that he wasn’t able to love a woman like she deserved to be loved.

But Cate?

Cate didn’t want any of that. He could see it, feel it. She wouldn’t even trust that if he tried to give it to her. Cate might be the only woman on the planet who needed exactly what he could give. And that was a relief, a fucking purpose, and it made him feel lighter than he had in months.

And it meant he could get laid. Soren was pretty sure he could actually punch through walls at this point if it meant he’d get to bury himself in Cate Kennedy on the other side.

“Fuck, we have an album to write,” Soren muttered.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Declan asked.

Soren smiled. So did Brian.

But it was Molly who got them moving. “Christ, it’s quiet in here,” she said, popping her head in the soundproofed door and flashing that mischievous grin. “You boys forget how to play?”

Soren watched Declan’s face light up brighter than a stage light. It was like that woman could flip a switch just by walking in the room, and it made Soren happy by association every time she did it. Declan had had a rough time when they were kids—the man deserved to be happy.

>
“Soren has,” Declan said with an evil grin. “You wanna come see how we used to write back in the day?”

Brian was already packing up his bass, and Gage was explaining to Eric. Soren felt himself smile wide—they hadn’t done this in years, and just the idea of it was getting his blood pumping already.

“Hell yes,” Molly said. “But only if we take the Challenger.”

“That’s my car,” Soren said.

“And by the time you’re done with whatever you crazy people are going to do to work your creative mojo, you’ll be so jazzed that you’ll let me drive it on the way back,” Molly replied. Then she buffed her nails on her sleeve and looked up through impossibly long eyelashes, smiling.

Soren just stared at her. The thing was, she was one hundred percent right. He’d tell himself no one was driving his car, but when push came to shove, if he’d gotten a song written, and he was still thinking about Cate, he wouldn’t give a care. He’d let her drive the 1970 Challenger. He looked at Declan, who was no damn help at all.

“Sometimes I can’t tell if I feel happy for you or if I pity you,” he told his friend.

“If you were smart,” Declan laughed, “you’d envy me.”

Soren thought about Julia and shook his head. Nope. He’d learned he wasn’t built for it. But Declan apparently was, and the man was building himself a family, so that was the kind of thing Soren was going to keep to himself.

Which was why he was thinking about family as he waited by his car for Molly and Declan to get their
asses
ready to go. Thing was, Soren almost never thought about his sister when he thought about family. He’d left all that back on Long Island a long time ago and intended to keep it there.

Except there was a text from Sonya.
His sister.

Ten years with nothing, except when they wanted money, and then the band gets in the papers because of the break-up and his older sister starts texting. Made no goddamn sense. She’d sent him pictures of her vacation, some pictures of her kids—he felt bad about the kids, a little boy and a little girl, about how they might have to grow up given what his family was like, but didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it, and that made him angry. So now every time he got a text from Sonya he could practically feel his blood pressure rise.

This time all she said was, “Just checking in.” Like they had a normal relationship, like they knew each other at all—what the fuck did that mean? There’d already been headlines about a rumored lawsuit, and the timing seemed suspicious. He was already more worried about the lawsuit than he’d ever let on, because it was every Dom’s worst nightmare: hurting a sub. He knew he hadn’t, knew it in a rational sense, and yet the uncertainty, the not knowing, the pacing around, unable to act, like a caged animal…

What if he had er t if hehurt a sub?

The doubt was new to him. The doubt was maybe because that connection with Cate had reminded him of Julia. And
now his sister poking her nose in
?

Soren shifted his weight, feeling the old familiar adrenaline response, the same thing he had seen flow through Cate not that long ago. Except in him flight or fight always meant fight, and that led to some dumb choices. He was on the defensive, primed for an attack that he knew wasn’t going to come, and he knew it would screw up his night if he let it.

So he thought about Cate instead.

He drove his beloved car hard down Sunset with Molly in the passenger seat and Declan laughing in the back, thinking about nothing but Cate. Letting the lights streak by like liquid, letting Molly’s laughing screams wash over him, letting everything but the memory of Cate’s curves, the softness of her skin, the set of her jaw, let it all fade.

Holy fuck he wanted her.

It was strange to want someone so badly again. So strange that it was starting to get to him, to buzz around in his head. He couldn’t stop replaying certain moments in his mind, couldn’t stop—

“Hey Mr. Serious Face!”

Soren blinked and looked at Molly. She was grinning like a cat.

“No, you can’t drive my car,” Soren said.

“Yet,” Declan added.

“Give me the dirt, Soren.” Molly smiled. “I hear you had an interesting meeting with your brand new lawyer.”

Soren frowned. The gossip in a club like Volare was almost as bad as it was in a band. He was screwed no matter what.

“From who?” he asked.

“Ford says she’s one of us,” Molly went on. She was enjoying this way too much. “Says she’s a sub.”

Soren screeched to a stop at a red light and turned sharply on Molly. “How the hell would
Ford
know?”

That woman was never fazed.

“Is it any of your business how Ford would know?”

“When was the last time I cared what was and wasn’t my business?” Soren growled. He eyed Declan in the rearview mirror. “Stop laughing, asshole. Are you telling me Ford went after her?”

He’d kill him, friend or no. Not only because Soren thought of Cate as his, even though that was kind of crazy,
but
because Adra Davis was his friend. Adra had become friends with all of Savage Heart ever since she’d helped bring Molly into their lives by hiring her to write that book, and while no one knew exactlywidknew ex what was going on between Adra and Ford, whatever it was, it wasn’t nothing. If Ford had hit on the one woman Soren wanted and hurt Adra in the process, he’d only discovered a creative way of getting himself killed.

Molly looked indignant. “Do you think any of us would be ok with that?”

“You are a difficult woman,” Soren grumbled.

“He says he has a vibe,” Molly said. “And he says you tried to scare her away and only succeeded in pissing her off. So I like her already.”

“You would,” Soren said.

“Even I have to love a woman who can make you look dumb, bro,” Declan said.

Molly flashed that evil grin again. “I’m trying to decide if you blush, Soren,” she said.

“Hey,” Declan warned. It earned a peal of laughter from Molly and Soren shook his head, knowing he’d just been drawn into the game these two constantly played with each other. It didn’t bother him; it was worth seeing his friends happy. He bet Declan would give Molly exactly what she was asking for later.

And he kept thinking about Cate. And what her skin looked like when she blushed.

Suddenly Soren started to laugh.

The way Cate had turned red and had hopped toward the door with dignity? He’d never seen anything like it. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for one woman to be sexy and silly and still kind of scary all at once, but somehow Cate managed it. If Soren possessed the capacity for embarrassment, he hoped he’d handle it like that. It was endearing as fuck.