Chapter 8

The whiskey was tempting. Brave reclined on the leather sofa, watching Tate fill two tumblers while shimmying to some R&B he’d put on a few minutes ago. The drummer had ditched his shirt and was wearing faded jeans that rode low on his hips. Showing off his lean body. All those tight muscles and smooth skin.

Yeah, I need a fucking drink.

But Brave hadn’t touched one yet. Sober him was conflicted enough. Drunk him made very bad choices.

And there was absolutely nothing to stop him from making them.

Hours earlier Connor had stopped by to say he and Malakai were heading to Kansas City with one of the other bands. Alder was with Danica, Jesse, and Shiori—probably all staying at the hotel.

Fate was either being kind or fucking laughing at him. He couldn’t decide which.

Thankfully, Tate hadn’t done anything besides put some music on and pour a couple drinks. Maybe he’d forgotten his offer.

Yeah, and maybe all my favorite characters will survive Game of Thrones.

A book. Yes. That was what he needed. Reading was the one thing he did that never got him in trouble.

He pushed up off the sofa and headed for his bunk.

“You crashing already?”

Brave reached into the space at the end of his bed to grab his new novel, shaking his head even though Tate couldn’t see him. “No, just getting my book. Haven’t gotten a chance to read much and I’ve been waiting for this one for a while.”

Tate watched him return, sitting on the table and sipping his whiskey. “They made a TV show. Why bother reading the same shit?”

Normal conversation. This is good. Brave tapped Tate on the head with the thick paperback. “It’s not the same. And you should try it sometime. Fucking ten times more intense.”

Making a face, Tate shrugged. “Never got into reading. Malakai had me try the crime novels he likes, but they’re boring.”

“I didn’t know Malakai liked to read.”

“Told you he was smart.” Tate looked down at his drink. “He could have done something awesome. Been a lawyer or a brain surgeon. But he got stuck taking care of his brother. Then me.”

Brave sat on the edge of the sofa facing Tate and set the book down beside him. “Listen to me, kid. The man’s fucking talented. He’s one of the best bassists I’ve ever met. He dedicated himself to music. His choice. And a good one.”

“Yeah… But he’s had it rough.”

“And still managed an amazing career.” Brave put a hand on Tate’s knee, giving it a little squeeze. “While watching out for your crazy ass. You know he likes taking care of you.”

Tilting his head to one side, Tate met his eyes. “That’s not why you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

Frowning, Brave shifted back, bracing his hands on his thighs. “No.”

“Then why—?”

A soft knock sounded at the door of the bus. Motioning for Tate to stay put, Brave went to see who it was.

Barely visible through the window in the dim streetlights stretching across the lot stood Shiori. Wearing the same long thin jacket from rehearsal, hugging herself and bouncing a little like she was trying to keep warm. He quickly opened the door, stepping aside so she could pass.

Teeth chattering, she glanced over at him with a smile. “I was afraid you’d never hear me.”

“How long were you out here?” He frowned as he took in the pallor of her lips and the sprinkling of snow in her sleek black hair. “No one came with you?”

“I told Jesse to drop me off.”

“He ditched you in the fucking parking lot?”

“I told him to go.” She rubbed her arms, her smile turning sheepish. “I was determined to spend the night on the bus, but not outside the bus. A few more minutes and I’d have called someone to bring me back to the hotel.”

He shook his head, reaching to put his hand on the small of her back to lead her in. Recalling their earlier exchange, he hesitated. “Will you punch me if I touch you?”

Her lips slanted. “I don’t know. Do I look ‘desperate’?”

“You look cold.” He slid his hand over her back to test her reaction. When she didn’t pull away, he drew her a little closer. “And I’m sorry.”

She opened her mouth, her eyes flashing in challenge. Then her expression softened and she laughed. “You said what you did so I’d hit you.”

“Slap. Not punch.” He grinned at the amusement in her eyes. He loved her spunk. Totally worth getting hit for a glimpse of it. “I deserved that, though. And I am duly warned not to fuck with you.”

“Apology accepted then.” She moved with him into the lounge and nodded to Tate. “You’re looking much better.”

“You showed up at the perfect time.” Tate slipped off the sofa, going to the cupboard to pull out another glass. “It’s a good thing you came. Have a drink with me? Brave was about to abandon me for his book.”

When Tate poured Shiori her drink, she stood there for a long time staring at it. Brave was tempted to tell Tate to back off, but the kid was just being friendly. And considering the conversations she’d likely had with Danica, and Alder, and then Jesse, she didn’t need someone else stepping in like she couldn’t make her own decisions.

But keeping his mouth shut was hard when she took the drink and looked at him like she was sure she’d made a mistake. Her gray eyes, so full of innocence and uncertainty, made him want to take the glass away. Tell her coming here tonight had been enough. She didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

“I’m not sure I like whiskey, but I’ll have a drink with you.” She moved away from Brave and lowered to the sofa, rubbing her bare legs under her long jacket. Then she took a sip of whiskey. Her eyes widened. She moved fast to cover her mouth with her hand.

The glass slipped from her fingers, splashing Brave when he caught it midair.

Shiori looked mortified. “Shit! Oh, my God, I’m sorry!”

Tate fell over laughing as Brave dried his arm on his shirt.

He shot the drummer a cold look to shut him up, then turned to Shiori. “It’s all right. Do you want to try it with some Coke?”

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Shiori gazed up at him. “You’re not going to tell me I shouldn’t be drinking?”

“Do you want someone else telling you what to do?”

She shook her head. “No. That’s the last thing I want.”

“All right, then no worries.” Brave retrieved a small bottle of coke from the fridge. Pulled out another glass to empty half the whiskey and fixed her a drink that wouldn’t be too strong. “We’ll all just hang out, have a drink, and relax.”

“So you’re joining us, Brave?” Tate took a swig of whiskey, his eyes full of mischief.

Time to set the kid straight. “I’ll have a drink with you. One. And that’s it.”

Tate rolled his eyes. Glanced over at Shiori. “He used to be fun.”

Shiori held her tongue between her teeth, looking amused. “What changed?”

“Band drama.” Tate shrugged. Then shadows stole the playful light from his eyes. “And Alder… Alder almost died. Shit, I’m such an idiot. I’m fucking pushing you and you’re trying to be a good brother.”

“And doing a lousy job at it.” Brave dropped down to the sofa beside Shiori. Fuck, him and Tate were all kinds of fun tonight, weren’t they? He grabbed his whiskey and took a few long swallows.

He hadn’t had a stiff drink in a while. The slow burn felt good going down.

Beside him, Shiori drew her knees up to her chest and sighed.

He shot her a sideways glance. “Not what you expected from a metal band?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. I just wish I knew a way to cheer you both up. Maybe if I’d left you alone…”

The way her voice trailed off got him curious. He relaxed back on the sofa, his lips quirking up at the edges. What did she think they all did on the bus? “We’d be having a wild party? Out vandalizing shit? What?”

Red spread over her cheeks. She looked at Tate, then back at him as though that was answer enough.

Which it was. And wasn’t.

Unless he’d missed something.

And that would be very very bad.

Fooling around with Tate might not be completely off the menu, but would have to be totally on the down low. The band couldn’t handle any more tension and both Alder and Malakai wouldn’t care how willing the drummer was.

All they would see was Brave taking advantage of him. Again.

He was older. More experienced. Perfectly capable of finding someone else to play with.

The sexy mix of innocence and fire dressed like a Sailor Scout—he’d looked it up—sitting next to him would have been an easy target once, but one thing had been made very clear today.

She was off-limits. Just like Tate.

More than Tate, because while messing around with Tate would piss people off, doing anything with Shiori would jeopardize her career. She was on thin ice with Reese. Fresh to the lifestyle and new to the fans. He couldn’t offer her anything worth risking all she was working for.

Tate cleared his throat. “I think what she’s implying is me and you—”

“I got that.” Brave chuckled and drank more whiskey. He couldn’t finish it soon enough. “Not sure why?”

Emptying her own glass and holding it out to Tate for a refill, Shiori’s lips parted. She pressed them shut and gave a little shrug.

Not so fast, sweetie.

He rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his fist, brow raised. “Come on. There has to be a reason.”

Thanking Tate when he returned with her whiskey and Coke, Shiori tipped it to her lips, likely for a little liquid courage. Then she met Brave’s eyes. “I heard you talking to Alder.”

“When?”

“That first night. Before Danica brought me to the hotel.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Sophie and Reese were talking and I stepped away from them and saw you there.”

He had a feeling he knew what she’d heard. He’d have to be more careful.

At least she hadn’t told anyone.

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “So it didn’t bother you?”

Tate sat on the floor in front of them, looking totally confused. “Wait, what am I missing?”

“Alder was worried about you all being pissed at him. I told him letting you suck his dick might help.”

“Me or all the guys?” Tate flashed a toothy grin. “Because I’m all for it either way.”

Shiori’s eyes widened. She clearly hadn’t expected Brave to come clean about the conversation.

“Only yours. Then we discussed me doing it instead.” Brave rolled his shoulders and sat up, polishing off the last of his whiskey. “I’m done, but I’d still like that answer.”

Blinking fast, brow furrowed, Shiori stared at him. “What answer?”

“Did it bother you?”

He expected more blushing. Or one of her witty remarks.

Instead, she wrapped her hands around her glass, staring down at the liquid.

Maybe he’d gone too far. Fucking typical. Why hadn’t he changed the subject? Ask her not to say anything and drop it. He couldn’t see her repeating this to anyone. She might have spunk, but a lot of it was buried under shy.

“No, it didn’t bother me.” Shiori hiked her chin up. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

And shy is down for the count.

Glass against his lips, Brave tried for another sip. Then remembered it was empty. “Yep, so I said I’m done.”

“You did.” She pressed her lips together, smothering a smile. “Good night, Brave.”

He eyed the bottle of whiskey. Laughed as he gave in and took a refill.

Fuck it.

“I changed my mind.” He licked a drop of whiskey off his bottom lip. “Things are just getting interesting.”

* * * *

One drink relaxed Shiori. Two made her daring. For the first time in days, she wasn’t worried about anything.

Not that the worries had disappeared, but they’d faded to the background. Something that usually only happened when she hung out with Wendy, drinking cheap wine or some mix they’d come across on Pinterest and decided to try out.

Those nights they giggled, looked up dirty pictures, and Wendy told her, in detail, about the guys she’d been with.

Shiori didn’t have anything to tell.

Her life had been split between school and taking care of Hiro. Elizabeth moving in gave her more free time, once Shiori had seen how good the woman was with Hiro, but she hadn’t socialized in so long she wasn’t sure where to start.

Wendy had dragged her to a couple of clubs, but Shiori always felt awkward. She hated the guys that came on to her. The crowded dance floor made her nervous. One roaming hand and she retreated to a booth where it was safe.

Another gulp of whiskey and Coke and the nagging worry of how she’d manage on a stage in front of hundreds, or even thousands of people…

All right, that gulp hadn’t helped. Maybe the next one would.

“Slow down, little moon.” Brave gently wrapped his hand around her wrist, easing her glass down. “The whiskey will catch up to you fast.”

She cocked her head and nodded toward his glass. “But you’re drinking it straight.”

“Tons of experience.”

“Experience I need?”

“Absolutely not. First tour some bands get shitfaced all the time. Or worse.” Brave glanced over at Tate, who’d switched to beer and was shuffling through songs on his phone. Brave shook his head as yet another opening melody came out of the Bluetooth speaker before cutting off. “The lucky ones learn fast being constantly hungover on the road, or stoned at shows, can destroy your career.”

“And the unlucky ones?” She really enjoyed talking to Brave. He was surprisingly patient and open. Didn’t make her feel completely out of touch with his world.

Even though she was.

“Most don’t last.”

She inclined her head, understanding how that could apply to her. “So I shouldn’t get too crazy.”

“Oh, you definitely should. At least once.” He gave her a slow smile. “Have fun. Go wild. Enjoy every fucking minute.”

“But not so much that you regret it the next day. Or week.” Tate sighed as if he’d heard all this before. Laying down on the floor, he placed his bottle by his hip and plunked an arm over his eyes. “You stay up for a lecture, Brave?”

“No. I’m waiting for you to suck my dick.”

Shiori nearly spit out her drink at the look on Tate’s face. Rolling over, he gaped at Brave. “You serious?”

“Nope.”

“I hate you.” Tate scowled and sat up. “If we’ve got to behave in front of her, why you keep bringing that up?”

“Who said you had to behave?” Shiori frowned at Tate over the rim of her glass when he glanced over. “Please don’t. I didn’t expect to be so comfortable here. But I am.”

“You comfortable just talking, or…?” Tate folded his legs in front of him and set his empty bottle on the floor. “Let’s play a game.”

Brave huffed out a laugh. “Enough, Tate. We’re not in high school.”

“Who asked you?” Tate spun the bottle and grinned at Shiori. “It might sound lame, but it’s fun. Not regular ‘Spin the Bottle’. It’s ‘Truth, Dare, Bite or Kiss.’”

Her pulse quickened as she stared down at the bottle. Even considering saying yes was ridiculous. Brave was right. It was childish. Not something she’d ever had the chance to play, but she was too old for it now.

Then again, Tate was her age. He was part of this band and knew how to have fun.

She’d come here tonight to see if she could handle the band. Fit in with them.

Brave didn’t want to do it.

He also didn’t want to stay for a drink.

He had because of her, which her fuzzy mind couldn’t quite figure out, but she liked it. What would he do if she said yes?

So far he’d been polite and sweet. Teased her a little, but like there was a line he wouldn’t cross. A completely reasonable line she should respect. And did. Like the kiss on stage, he was acting in her best interest.

But he regretted the kiss. And what he’d said to her.

They had the chance at a fresh start.

What better than a bit of forbidden fun? She didn’t expect it to go anywhere further. Whatever did or didn’t happen tonight would end come morning. Reese had made it very clear what she wanted from Shiori.

Shiori wasn’t Danica. Fans wouldn’t like seeing her with one of their heroes.

The fans aren’t here. Neither is Reese.

And this might be Shiori’s last chance to completely let loose.

She slid off the sofa, across from Tate. “How do you play?”

Letting out a frustrated sound, Brave stood beside her. “I said no.”

“Yes, you did.” She tipped her head back and smirked at him. “And I already said good night once.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, then muttering at the ceiling, Brave didn’t move for a long time. Letting his hand fall to his side, he brought his glass to his lips, throat working as he gulped down the whiskey. He slammed the glass on the table so hard she thought it might break.

It didn’t.

“What don’t you two get? Shit happens and I’m the bad guy.” Brave rubbed his fist against his lips, glaring at the bottle like it pissed him off. “This may be a game to you, but I’m already way past my third strike.”

Hopping to his feet, Tate snatched up Brave’s glass and filled it to the brim with whiskey. “Not with us.”

The conflict in Brave’s eyes reached past the sweet buzz in Shiori’s head. She swallowed hard and reached up to take his hand. “There’s no point to a game if it’s not fun. For everyone. I get it. And I shouldn’t want to do this. I thought I might leave after tonight. After talking to you, I don’t want to. That’s good enough.”

Brave ran his thumb over her fingers, his expression softening in a way that made her wish they were the only two here. But that would be so much worse. Tate’s playfulness kept things light. Brave’s rejection would hurt if she’d been alone, wishing he would stay and forget all they shouldn’t do for one night.

“You won’t go?” Brave laced their fingers together. “Fuck, I actually did something right.”

“More than you know.” She bit her bottom lip as he settled down on the floor, one knee touching hers. “You’re going to play, aren’t you?”

He bowed his head. Shook it. Then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I am.”