Strong: A Stage Dive Novella (Stage Dive #4.5)

“Hmm.”

He waded across the tub, stopping when my outstretched hand hit his chest. “I’m not allowed to show you affection after sex?”

“A. I like my space. B. You’ve pissed me off.”

Instead of retreating, however, he stayed put, stroking my hand and toying with my fingers. The same ones holding him back. Such a ridiculous man, behaving as if we were suddenly a couple or something. Either that or a very determined one.

His gaze when he looked at me was gentle, far too warm. “Like I said, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. I was a little worked up. Next time will be much better, I promise.”

Much better might kill me. Still, it was an intriguing idea. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“You do that.”

“I’m going up to bed now. Alone.” And while climbing over the edge of an inbuilt hot tub in a bikini might not be the most elegant exit, it was, however, certainly the most expedient. With the overly demonstrative mood Sam was in, he’d probably want to hug or something, which would be misleading for everyone involved. That wasn’t what we were. Whatever exactly we were.

“Night, love,” he said cheerfully. Apparently undeterred.

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed, collecting the remnants of the bottle of Cristal on my way. Be a pity to waste it and I was in need of something to calm me down.

Behind me, he chuckled, all amused. The jerk. In a display of great maturity and grace, I ignored him and got the hell out of there. I had the worst feeling I might not in fact be winning when it came to our verbal sparring. Perhaps all of the information, emotions, and sex had boggled my brain. Tomorrow I’d have a better handle on things. A clearer perspective.

Inside the house, Lizzy was wisely nowhere in sight. A second bottle of Cristal waited on my bedside table along with some candles for mood lighting. She probably thought she’d been setting up quite the lovenest for Sam and me. As if. I’d catch up with her later, the conniving girl.

And I did not lie awake for hours frowning at the ceiling thinking about him. That would just be stupid. For some reason, however, sleep didn’t come. But surely it had nothing to do with him. Because whatever Sam’s original plans might have been, we were just using each for sex. Therefore, there could be no possible reason for me to be freaking out about all of his relationship talk. Sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just really great sex. Apparently, even better than what we’d had tonight and it had been rather fucking great. Though he might have just been bragging. Though as my brother had said, Sam wasn’t the type to say something he didn’t mean.

Hmm.

Since I couldn’t sleep, I drank some more champagne, because why not? That’s unfortunately when the bad thing happened.




“Heard someone was seen skulking out of the pool house this morning in the early hours.” The drummer grinned. Most likely the housekeeper had ratted me out. For some reason she thought Mal was delightful. “Fast work, Marty. You go, girl.”

Jimmy just seemed amused at the news. But David and Ben gave me startled glances. Hypocrites. As if neither of them had copulated in the history of space and time. My brother had even rather infamously impregnated Mal’s then twenty-one-year-old sister-in-law. It had caused all sorts of trouble within the band and their entourage. Sam and I getting it on barely rated as news compared to that scandal.

With three children under the age of three running around, telling the man to go fuck himself was out of the question. Sadly. Still, my smile was all sharp teeth. “Why, thank you, Malcolm. You know how I value your input into these things.”

Gibby, along with Jimmy and Lena’s twin girls, were building and destroying towers of blocks faster than I could keep track. The creative and destructive power of small children was awe-inspiring. Also the range of floor space they managed to spread their toys across. I sat on the ground nearby, doing my best to try to keep it contained to one general corner of the room. But alas, I was no match for their sheer exuberance. Blocks were everywhere.

Since the band had been putting the finishing touches to some new songs, everyone was in attendance. Even Adam had been running around, acting as both errand boy and roadie. He tuned guitars and fetched things, all while avoiding my gaze whenever possible. Suited me fine. The less said about last night the better. At least Sam had been busy organizing security for a show next week for charity and hadn’t yet made an appearance.

But of course, Mal wasn’t even remotely finished. “Poor Adam. Did you get any sleep at all, man? How thin are the walls out there in the pool house of love?”

Adam just gave me a worried look. “I didn’t say anything.”

Oh, God.

“You didn’t say anything about what exactly?” asked Mal, twirling a drumstick in one hand. “Not holding out on us are you, dude?”

The kid froze.

“Can’t hold out on your fellow band members. That’s not cool.”

His brows drew in. “I’m a solo act.”

“Yeah,” said Mal. “But I’m playing on your album under my awesome new secret name, Sticks McGee. Ingenious, right?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ben didn’t even bother to look up from where he was busily making notes on a pad of paper. “You’re playing uncredited like we decided. I don’t want any of the attention taken away from Adam. It’s his debut album.”

“Fine, whatever. But he still has to tell us what he knows.” Given they were both around the same height, Mal couldn’t quite loom over the kid. But he certainly tried. Peer pressure at its finest. “Is Marty a screamer? Likes to make farm animal noises in bed? Or no, did she say mean things during sex and make Sam cry? C’mon, what went down? You can tell me.”

My hands bunched into fists. “Mal…”

“What? No,” stammered Adam. “She just…I mean, it’s not even a big deal and…it was just an accident.”

“Not another word.” Normally, violence wasn’t my thing. But I might punch someone. “I mean it.”

Ben just shook his head.

David looked vaguely confused.

Jimmy, meanwhile, was now wearing quite a broad smile. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I lied with much vehemence. “Nothing happened!”

“Adam, my boy.” Mal continued to twirl the stick in a vaguely threatening manner. “Don’t make me use the drumsticks of death on you. It’s not a nice way to go.”

The children laughed and clapped at the idiot drummer’s display. Like he needed any encouragement. But Adam’s gaze kept darting between me and Mal, trying to decide whose wrath would be mightier and scarier. And since Mal stood closer, I lost.

“She just got the room wrong, is all,” Adam blurted out, finally. “Thought mine was Sam’s and stumbled in a little drunk.”

I hung my head and covered my face. So I missed seeing Sam stride into the room, assessing the situation in an instant. Or perhaps our voices had carried.

Mal’s hyena cackle filled the big room. “Oh. My. God. You poor young innocent thing to have to face down Marty’s lusts all alone in the dark like that. Were you terrified? I know I would have been. Tell me more.”

Sam sighed, crouching down behind me. What should have been a comfort was not on account of how he actually fucking told them. “Then she slapped him on the ass and declared it was booty call time. Fortunately I had, however, heard her enter the building and intervened.”

“What’d you do, Sam? What’d you do?”

“I threw the slightly intoxicated lady in question over my shoulder and told young Adam to go back to sleep since I’d be dealing with the situation,” said Sam, who I now officially hated. Unfortunately, ex-Navy SEAL. So when I tried to jab him with my elbow, he simply caught it and gave me a smile. “Sorry, love. But I’m afraid that story was always going to get out. Especially once Adam opened his mouth and Malcolm caught wind of it. Best that they hear about it now, have their laugh, and then get on with their lives.”

“How could you?” I growled.