The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7) Read online

  So I blamed him completely when I dropped a freaking drumstick.

  It clanged against the hollow floor of the stage with a resounding echo that caused all my bandmates to look my way…as well as about half the crowd watching us.

  Scrambling to retrieve my fallen stick, I straightened so fast blood rushed to my head and made me instantly dizzy. But I sent out a rueful grin and waved both sticks above me to let everyone know I was good. Everything was just fine back here. No reason at all to gape at me like I was an idiot.

  Asher turned back to the microphone. “Guess that was my cue to introduce the newest member of our band. Everyone, please give Sticks, the best damn drummer you’ll ever hear, a little bit of encouragement, will you?” Cupping his hand to his mouth, he added more quietly, “This is his first time, so go gentle on him, please.”

  Some people laughed, more cheered, but boy, did the room encourage me. All lit up inside, I waved my sticks above my head in greeting, then clicked them four times together to set the beat of the song, and boom…we were playing a cover for one of my favorite OneRepublic songs. Live. In front of people. It took a whole verse before I actually got to play, but when my intro came, I nailed it.

  It was…

  Awesome.

  My dream was coming true. I couldn’t stop grinning, couldn’t stop feeling the rush, couldn’t stop playing. Once the song ended, I just kept going, moving straight into the song, “Ceilings.”

  Asher glanced back at me in surprise. Then he rolled his eyes, as if to say he should’ve known, and grinned before turning back for his first line. His voice hit me hard, and seemed to vibrate through my bones, echoing along my spine and shivering out the ends my toes.

  It was pure nirvana. My heaven.

  I didn’t even realize how many songs or how much time had passed until Asher said we were going to take a quick break. That’s when it suddenly hit me how soaked I was inside my clothes and mask from the sweat that came because of all the heat pouring down from the overhead lights. Then I stood, and my legs and back gave a scream of protest due to sitting for so long.

  Working my shoulders and kicking out my legs a time or two, I followed the other three, jumping off the side of the stage and into the crowd. There was no “backstage” so we were instantly swamped, most everyone gathering around Asher to get their hands on him.

  A man in a black Forbidden shirt appeared—the same hottie who’d rescued me from Grim, the dick doorman, and fetched Asher to let me in. He helped free Asher from the clingers and then paved a path for us to get to the back hall, where he and Asher led us to a back room with a couch, some lockers, and a small kitchenette.

  “Thanks, Quinn,” Asher told the gorgeous giant as he swiped the back of his forearm over the sweat glistening on his brow. “You’re a life saver.”

  Quinn’s smile was adorable: sexy, shy and sweet all rolled into one. “No problem. I better get back to the bar, though. You really drew a crowd tonight.”

  As Asher waved him off, Quinn began to retreat, only to feel my eyes on him or something, because he glanced my way.

  He sent me a small wave of acknowledgement and said, “Good job. You guys sounded great.”

  As he disappeared out the door, I stared after the spot he’d been and tried not to sigh. I liked Quinn. There was just something in his aura that made me feel…nice. And safe. Plus he was just so easy to stare at.

  That’s when Galloway slapped me in the arm. “Dude, did you catch the redhead who flashed us her tits? The one in the tight, yellow top with cleavage down to her belly button. She was screaming your name.”

  I blinked at him, clueless. “Huh?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You don’t do chicks. What a waste.” He turned to Holden, who was wiping at the pit stains on his shirt, directly under his arms. “Holden, you saw her, didn’t you? I am so fucking that bitch tonight.”

  I groaned in disapproval and sought Asher with my gaze. Not sure why, I just always found myself looking at him when he was around. He wasn’t big and classically pretty like his co-bartender Quinn, but checking out his lean frame and deeply angled face caused the same stir in me. Except I didn’t feel at all safe when my eyes were on him. I felt…I don’t know…challenged, a little breathless, exhilarated, as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff and could already feel the rush burn through my blood before I even jumped.

  Ignoring all of us, he leaned down to open a miniature refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. My gaze lingered on his ass. He didn’t wear his pants tight, like a lot of rockers these days—ahem, Galloway—but the material sure stretched nice and snug over his perfect ass as he bent over. Then he straightened all too soon and was turning back to us before I could cut my ogling party short.

  He caught me in the act, but instead of scowling for checking him out, he lifted his bottle. “Need one?”

  I shook my head, even though my mouth was as dry as sawdust. “Actually, I need to find the john.” Which I was dreading. I so did not look forward to entering the men’s room in this place. Why, oh why, had I laughed at Jodi’s Go Girl and purposely not brought it?

  “You can use the private one for workers.” He motioned to a nearby doorway, and I nearly wept in relief.

  “Gracias.” Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  I hurried into the small room, glad to have it all to myself, and sped through my potty break. All the sweat that had gathered inside my mask was bugging the hell out of me, but I didn’t give into temptation and take if off for a quick dry-down. I had a bad feeling I’d probably pull it back on all wrong.

  Once I washed my hands and returned to the rest of the group, Galloway was still jabbering about all the different women he felt he could score with before the night was over while Holden quietly listened to him. Asher sat sprawled on the sofa with his head back against the cushions, his eyes closed, and his fingers and toes tapping to a beat only he could hear. His lips moved as he silently sang to himself.

  When I shut the door behind me, his lashes came open and green eyes assessed me. “How’re you holding up? Your playing’s been great.”

  “Gracias.” I shrugged and settled into a side chair. “And I’m good. Definitely feeling the vibe and ready to get back out there.”

  The excitement seeped from my voice, causing him to grin like an experienced professional smiling indulgently at a greenhorn and possibly remembering his first time out.

  “Well, take my word for it; get all the rest you can now. We’re only halfway through.”

  We were already halfway through? No! We couldn’t be that close to being done. I had so much energy still left in me. I wanted to do this for days. And I was so done with this break that seemed to last for days.

  Asher went back to his quiet meditation, or whatever he was doing, while Gally just kept talking about his dick and whom he thought he could shove it into before the night was over. Disgusting. Next to him, Holden listened silently to his bragging. I shifted impatiently in my chair, unable to sit still.

  Finally, Asher said, with his eyes still closed. “Okay, Sticks. We’ll head back out now.”

  Wondering why he was addressing me and no one else, I glanced his way, frowning. “Huh?”

  He unfolded himself from the couch, standing in a sexy way only a hot guy could manage, and sent me a grin. “I swear your eagerness is louder than Gally’s chirping.”

  Galloway stopped talking to glance our way. “What’d you call me?”

  “Nothing.” Asher spun his finger in a circle over his head. “Let’s roll out.”

  The second half of our performance seemed to go even faster than the first. And at about a quarter until one in the morning, when Asher wished everyone a good night, I was still too psyched to calm down.

  I loved this.

  I’d always craved the opportunity, watched other bands on stage and wished I could do that someday, but I still had no idea, no clue it’d give me this kind of rush. Plus, the fans reall
y loved us, which was…wow.

  And damn, it made me love all of them right back.

  As soon as we alighted from the stage, they swarmed in, most of them centering around Asher, but some swooped down on Galloway and Holden too. I screamed out a surprised yelp when a pair of arms wrapped around me and squeezed hard.

  “Oh, my God, Remy!” Jodi shrieked in my ear. “I can’t believe you actually did it! You were so great.”

  “Gracias.” I laughed, and we hugged again. When I pulled away, I saw she was wearing a skintight yellow shirt with swooping cleavage.

  Dios, I should’ve known she was the flasher Galloway had been talking about.

  “Oh, shit. You’re the one who flashed me? I can’t believe you flashed me. Really? That’s like buying a pack of bottle rockets at a used firework stand. You know you’re not getting a boom-boom out of me.”

  Jodi laughed. “I know, but I couldn’t help it. I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Galloway butted his way between the two of us to throw an arm around Jodi’s shoulder and grin down at her. “Us hetero members of the band sure as hell appreciated the show. Nice tits, by the way.”

  Jodi lifted her finely trimmed eyebrows. “Why, thank you.”

  “You bet.” He gave her a slow grin. “The name’s Billy. Billy Galloway.”

  When Jodi lifted her hand to shake with him, I pushed her fingers down. “No.” Glaring at Galloway, I growled, “She doesn’t want to meet you.”

  “Yes, I do,” Jodi said.

  I ignored her and continued to glare at the bassist. “Jodi is my friend. You stay away. Got it?”

  “Whaaat?” Gally’s innocent smile wouldn’t have fooled a six-month-old. “I was just introducing myself to your friend.”

  “And guessing her bra size,” I muttered.

  “36 DD,” he rattled off, and Jodi’s mouth fell open.

  “Wow, he’s good.”

  “I know, right?” Gally preened and asked, “Want me to show you how good?” just as Asher joined us.

  “Hey, Sticks. Good job tonight.”

  Forgetting Gally, Jodi gaped at him, her eyes bulging as she slugged me on the arm.

  “Holy…shit,” she whispered. “Asher Hart is standing right there.”

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered back. “You see him too?”

  Asher chuckled. “Hey,” he said, holding out his hand to Jodi. “You must be Remy’s friend.”

  Jodi whimpered as she shook with him. When she continued to stare and pump his hand up and down without saying anything, I rolled my eyes.

  “This is Jodi,” I said. “She’s my friend who…typically has better communication skills than I do.”

  “Quiero sentarme en tu cara,” Jodi blurted.

  Though Asher blinked in confusion, obviously not understanding, I screeched, “Jodi!” Unable to believe she’d just asked to sit on his face, or that she actually remembered how to pronounce the phrase right, I gaped at her in horror.

  “What?” she asked me innocently. “He can tell me no if he’s not interested.”

  With another laugh, Asher managed to extract his fingers from hers. “Your buddy here saved our ass tonight,” he said, obviously having no clue what Jodi had just requested. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if we hadn’t found Sticks to join the band. He has some wicked talent.”

  “Oh, I know!” Jodi looped her arm through mine and pulled me close with a proud smile. “Remy’s played drums since we were running around in diapers together. She’s amazing.”

  I stopped breathing as Asher blinked. When I pinched her where no one would see, Jodi jumped and let out a squeak of alarm, her eyes going wide. “I mean, he. He’s amazing.”

  “Damn, girl.” I pulled away to send her a censorious glare. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

  Jodi gave a nervous laugh, her eyes glassy with panic. “Too much.” She turned back to Asher and gulped. “Obviously.”

  Asher grinned at her but just as quickly turned to me. “Hey, whenever you have a second, I want to introduce you to the guys I work with.”

  He was looking right at me, so I guess he was talking to me. I bit back a wince, a little wary of meeting too many more people in this mask. It was a great guise, but I didn’t much care for the nip of guilt that came with deceiving more people.

  But Asher was still looking at me, and his green eyes were so captivating. Damn gorgeous green eyes.

  I ended up nodding and saying, “Sure. Okay. Whenever.” So he started to lead me toward the bar, and I guess whenever was right then. Mierda.

  I don’t know how many times we were stopped by fans, wanting to hug Asher, kiss him, or just touch his shirt. Some were too reluctant to actually make contact but still hovered, crowding as close as they dared and making our trek to the bar seem like the Boston Marathon.

  Mostly he was vague and distant with everyone, smiling with them and then setting them an arm’s length away once he let them have a hug.

  We were only about five feet from our destination when a pretty little blonde squirmed her way through the people to reach him, screeching, “Asher!”

  He broke into the biggest grin and swept his up into her arms, kissing the side of her head.

  I have no clue why that bothered me. I barely knew this guy, and feeling all possessive of someone just because I thought he was hot totally wasn’t my style. Hell, I hadn’t even blinked an eyelash when female fans had frenched Fisher right in front of me…when I’d been engaged to him. Yet the urge to pull blondie off Asher by way of all that pretty pale hair hit me hard.

  Maybe because he looked so happy when he gazed at her. I liked it better when he smiled at shit I said. “Hey, beautiful,” he called over the noise into her ear. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

  I was mentally trying to nitpick his girlfriend’s looks apart, but dammit, not finding a single flaw about her, when he turned her my way.

  Oh, joy, I realized. I was going to get introduced to the perfect specimen.

  “Sticks, this is Caroline.”

  I lifted an eyebrow as I glanced at him. “The reason we played ‘Sweet Caroline’ tonight? Twice.”

  He grinned back. “The very.”

  Turning to her, I opened my mouth to lie and tell her how nice it was to meet her when someone shouted our way. “Okay, fucker. Enough kissy, huggy time. Hands off. Now!”

  I glanced over to catch sight of a guy behind the bar giving Asher the finger.

  Curious why he was so irate, I asked, “Who’s that?”

  Asher’s grin grew as Caroline slipped away from him. “Caroline’s husband.”

  My eyebrows spiked in surprise, and yes, a little ball of relief welled in my gut. After I watched Caroline skip up to the bar to kiss the man still flipping off Asher, I frowned Asher’s way. “So you were flirting with her because…?”

  He chuckled. “Because it’s fun as shit to fuck with Ten. Seriously, you should try it.”

  He nudged me forward until I was standing where Caroline had been, because she’d already flitted away to talk to a brunette and a redhead about twenty feet down the counter.

  “So that’s your wife, huh?” I asked, taking in the guy Asher had called Ten. When I met his gaze, I was surprised to see half his face was scarred. Ouch.

  Glancing longingly after Caroline, he nodded. “I know, right? I’m a lucky-ass bastard.”

  I let out a low whistle. “I’ll say, because holy shit…she’s got a sweet ass. I bet every man in this joint would give his left nut to tap that.”

  Ten’s smile died flat. “What did you say, motherfucker?”

  With a snicker, I nudged Asher in the arm. “You’re right. That was fun.”

  He choked on the water he’d been chugging from a bottle and ended up spitting some out onto the countertop.

  When he started laughing, Ten pointed at me and demanded of him, “Who the fuck is this douchebag?”

  “Te
n, meet Sticks. Newest member of the band. He’s our drummer.”

  “Looks like a dead drummer to me.”

  “Oh, leave him be,” Asher told him mildly enough as he grabbed a napkin and wiped away his mess. “I told him to mess with you.”

  But Ten was already climbing over the bar toward me, looking determined to maim.

  Holy shit. I lurched in reverse, my eyes bugging with worry. But damn, one night in public, and two guys had already threatened to beat my ass.

  Were men always this punchy?

  Asher held up a hand and stepped between us. “Relax,” he ordered, his voice harsh. “Sticks is gay. He won’t seriously mess with Caroline.”

  Ten jerked to a stop and sent Asher an incredulous glance before he turned back to me and narrowed his gaze into a suspicious scowl. “He didn’t sound very gay with the shit he was spouting about her.”

  I held up both my hands. “I am. Trust me. I think you’re hotter than your wife is. Swear to God.” And just because it really had been fun to rile him, I stared after his wife and shrugged. “I mean, sure, she’s got a nice rack and all.” The perfect shape and size to drive a girl like me absolutely jealous. “But I’d rather see what you’re packing behind that zipper of yours.”

  I turned back to send a meaningful leer to the front of his pants and noticed, huh, dude was sporting a nice-sized bulge. Maybe Jodi had been onto something when she’d made my man panties.

  Ready for Ten to go all homophobe on me and tell me to back up off him, I was surprised when he merely grinned. “Hell, yes, you’d like to know.” He pointed to his fly. “This is a one-of-a-kind, grade-A awesome cock, right here.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Asher muttered.

  Ten lifted an eyebrow and challenged him with a look. “What? Caroline can’t keep her hands off it. Or her mouth. Her pussy loves it too.” Then he finally narrowed his attention back on me. “And you…don’t even get near it, gay boy.”

  Finally getting the response I’d been seeking, I grinned and winked at him.

  He frowned even harder. But a split second later, a new grin broke across his face. Nudging my arm, he coaxed, “You think I’m hotter than Hart, don’t you? Come on, you can admit it.”