Ten
Becca pissed me off.
Sort of like being away from her for even just a week or so was an exorcism that cleansed my life of her management.
Management = dominating my life.
Everything she said on the phone smelled like rotten eggs that came out of a decaying boar’s ass. I don’t know why now, all of a sudden, all her domineering behavior bothered me.
Actually, that was wrong. It always bothered me. Hell, it was probably why I was angry half the time. It was quite a realization.
Almost as if I were becoming Yoda.
Wise me being.
Except I was better looking. Naturally.
I just never really cared up until this point. Things were changing, though. It was sort of like waking up from some dream that lasted years. Like coming back to Earth after a trip in space.
I cared now. About how I lived my life. About having a life.
For the first time in what felt like half my life, I felt somewhat normal again. I wasn’t consumed with success, how to make other people happy, money, traveling… following orders.
Coming back here to what Becca referred to as a “primitive” town was a wake-up call. What was the point of having huge success and a fat bank account if I didn’t enjoy it? If I didn’t have a life?
If I didn’t feel like I earned it?
I knew that was a bit of a stretch. Obviously, I earned all of my millions. Some of those dollars were hard-gotten gains. This life wasn’t easy. Maybe that’s why somewhere along the way, I switched into autopilot and let Becca control it all.
And now I was here.
She said the only reason my career hadn’t crashed and burned completely was because of her. I was beginning to think the reason it crashed at all was because of her.
No, she didn’t whip it out and piss on a crowd. She didn’t get in fights or snap at fans. She didn’t do any of the shit I’d pulled… but she certainly didn’t make my life any easier on me.
Maybe if I’d been more active in my own life, in my own career and decision making, I wouldn’t feel so cornered by it all.
Cornered, yeah. That’s exactly how I felt.
I loved music… I loved performing. But the business of it all was killing me. Squashing my passion and making it harder and harder to thrive.
These were thoughts I’d never really entertained before coming here. I’d been too busy, too drunk, or too passed out to ponder anything.
Then I stepped into my old summer room. I realized Nate went on living a life I knew nothing about. Derek welcomed me back, but I saw the apprehension, the way he almost wanted to protect his son from me. As if he didn’t know me… as if I weren’t like his second son all those years ago.
He was embarrassed of me.
I was ashamed.
Then there was Violet. The biggest catalyst of them all.
She didn’t know me. Not my name. My career or the shitty things I’d done. She thought I was some broke-ass college student who drove a Jeep with more tape than parts, shared a room with my cousin, and had underlying darkness inside me.
She liked me anyway.
She didn’t like me for who I was, just how I made her feel. For how I treated her when we were together.
Standing in the shadows was an interesting place to be. For someone so used to being in the spotlight, it was quite amazing to realize just how eye-opening the dark could really be.
I wasn’t ready to go back to LA. Back to the life that I wasn’t even sure I wanted anymore. The thought of leaving Violet made my chest ache.
I didn’t deserve her. Hell, I was lying about everything. How could I tell her the truth? How could I look someone so beautiful in the face, someone who had a real reason to be angry, to be mad at the world but wasn’t, and admit I had more than she could ever dream of, and I fucked it all up by being a selfish bastard?
When Becca demanded I give up my piece of ass because she was only using me, sickness climbed up the back of my throat.
It wasn’t Violet who was using me. It was me who was using her.
Me, the guy sitting here thinking about how I wanted to be better. Do better. Yet what was I doing? More of the fucking same.
Still cornered. Just by different demons of my own making.
I wanted her. I wanted Violet so bad my heart beat with that desire. I stayed away while the war raged inside me. I wanted to see her desperately, but I knew it was wrong.
I carried the cartoon of her indirectly making fun of me in the pocket of my jeans. I kept it on the nightstand when I went to bed, and I looked at it when the ache inside me was almost a gaping hole.
Every man has a limit, though. Mine didn’t take long to meet.
I had to see her. To touch her. To show her (and maybe myself) I was the man she knew… regardless of my actual name.
The second she pulled open the door, I could barely contain myself. The pull I felt to her was undeniable, unexplainable. Eventually, I was going to have to tell her exactly who I was and what I was really doing in town.
But not tonight.
Not now.
I wanted time with her. I craved it.
I was damn well going to have it.
There was a rave on the edge of town. Nate told me about it, said Blaylock was famous for having some huge, all-night raves. He’d never been since it wasn’t on campus or at a frat. But it appealed to me. Raves were notoriously dark, with lots of people. You could easily disguise yourself.
Plus, music.
I missed the loud bass of a good song and the way it vibrated everything beneath your skin. I missed moving my body to the beat and just losing myself.
Seemed like a no-brainer to go get Violet and bring her with. Nah, she wasn’t really a party girl, but she was a me girl.
I could say that because she was currently riding shotgun as I pulled into what looked like an abandoned part of the old business district on the edge of town. Abandoned buildings and warehouses lined the streets. Everything seemed kind of bare here, the sidewalks empty and cracked. The buildings were rundown with broken windows and marks of graffiti on the brick.
It reminded me of New York City, of the places I grew up.
“You’re sure there’s a party here?” Vi asked, totally doubtful.
I laughed low. “If Nate said it, then it’s true.”
“Are you sure Nate knows what he’s talking about?”
“I can hear you,” Nate retorted from his position in the back.
“Well, I wasn’t whispering,” Violet told him, turning to glance in his direction.
“It’s the old warehouse at the end of the street,” he said. “There’s a rave there a couple times a month.”
“If this turns out to be some gang hangout where everyone is shooting up with heroine, I will never forgive you.” Violet sniffed and turned back around.
Laughing, I reached out and patted her leg. “I’ll protect you from the gang, Vi.”
“I’d never do you like that, Vi,” Nate said, poking his head between the seats.
I released her leg to shove his face back where it came from. “That’s Violet to you, ass.”
“I feel so unloved,” Nate announced.
“I think this is it,” I said, downshifting. There were cars everywhere. The tall, dark building was glowing from the inside, neon light flashing through some of the windows. Music, loud and heavy, pumped out and could actually be heard over the Jeep.
“How is this place not crawling with cops?” Violet asked.
“I’m thinking they look the other way,” Nate replied, sticking his face back between the seats. “Because everyone on campus knows about this place.”
“I didn’t.” Violet looked at me. “Did you?”
Considering I wasn’t actually ever on campus, the chances were slim. “Once or twice,” I mumbled, not sure what to say.
“That’s because you’re a good girl,” Nate told her.
“Does that make you a bad boy?” she asked cheekily.
“The baddest.”
I rolled my eyes. He was delusional.
“There’s a spot down there,” he said. I followed the direction and wedged the Jeep between two cars down the block.
Nate got out on my side, and then I went around to help Violet because she was lingering in the car.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, biting her lower lip and making me think about kissing her.
“I’m sure I want to dance with you.” I enticed. “And paint your body with some of that glow-in-the-dark paint I know they have going on in there.”
“Can I paint you, too?”
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a given.”
She held out her hand, and I pushed it away, instead leaning in to lift her out of the Wrangler, placing her on her feet.
“I don’t know how you do that,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Act like I don’t weigh a ton.”
I made a face. What the fuck was she talking about? “Have you looked in the mirror, Vi? You’re tiny.”
She made a rude sound. “In stature, yes. But we both know I have a little extra padding.”
Again, I made a face. “Just what the fuck are you implying?”
“Nothing,” she said and started past.
I caught her wrist, taking care not to squeeze too tightly. I knew she was more delicate than most. “Hey.”
Violet turned back.
“Don’t you say negative shit about yourself. Ever again.” I released her arm so I could palm the sides of her waist in the exact spot where it curved in on each side. Coaxing her closer, I stared down from beneath the brim of my hat. “I like the way you feel in my arms.” My voice was low, the words only for her ears. “And the way you fill out your clothes, the way my hands fit right here.” I flexed my fingers. “I know you have lots of reasons to be at war with your body, baby. But the shape and size of it ain’t one.”
She seemed stunned I would say that. Her eyes went round when I spoke, now blinking several times, as if she were trying to process the words.
I didn’t wait for her to reply. I didn’t need one. Instead, I leaned closer, kissed her forehead, and then tugged her along with me onto the sidewalk.
The three of us weren’t the only people on the sidewalk. There were several groups and pairs walking in.
The girls were all wearing the kind of shit I saw in LA at the clubs and parties. Short. Tight. See-through. I liked it. I mean, I was a guy. What guy didn’t want a sneak peek at the merchandise?
Usually, the way they flaunted their bodies turned me on, and I ended up going home with one or two on my arm.
Not tonight. Tonight, I looked at them and didn’t feel desire. I felt kind of sorry the only thing they thought they had to offer was their body.
Thank God Violet wasn’t dressed like that. If she had been, I probably would have ended up in more than one fight.
I didn’t want men looking at her the way I looked at women back then. Just the thought of it made me sick.
“Looks like there’s a cover,” Nate said, his steps hesitating.
I glanced at the sign propped up by the metal door as we stepped up in line. It was fifty bucks a head.
“I got it,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out two hundred-dollar bills.
Violet’s hand jolted in mine. “Who just walks around with two hundred dollars in their pants?”
Actually, I had about five hundred in cash on me. But I wasn’t about to tell her that. I shrugged. “Using duct tape saves me a lot of money.”
“You sure, man?” Nate asked. He was the only friend of mine that ever seemed hesitant or even disinterested in my money.
I respected that.
“Hell yeah,” I said. “This was my idea.”
“Next!” a large guard at the door called out.
The three of us moved up, and I slapped the money into his palm. “No change,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “How about a couple of those paint tubes?” I pointed to some glow-in-the-dark paint sticks in a plastic tub by his feet.
He grunted but grabbed a few tubes (yellow, orange, and green) and held them out.
“I want pink,” Violet said.
“She wants pink,” I told him.
Nate took the three tubes, while the guard fished around for a pink and handed it to Violet. After that, he pointed for us to get out of his sight.
We moved into the warehouse, and I was pretty fucking impressed. This was like a full-on rave. Right here in the middle of what Becca referred to as a “primitive” town.
The wide-open space was basically made of concrete with a huge window on one side with about fifty small window panes. At the far end of the space was a stage where a DJ was set up, and a bunch of glow-in-the-dark balloons hung over his head.
The only light was from the black lights, and everybody in here was painted with neon-colored glow paint.
The music, some sort of techno, trembled my insides and made it hard to take a deep breath. The crowd was loud. Bodies mashed together in the center, and more bodies scattered out around the perimeter, drinking and laughing.
We passed by a large card table covered in glow-in-the-dark props. Glasses, bracelets, necklaces. There were even masks, rings, and hats.
I stopped and snagged a neon-orange fedora and switched my baseball hat out for it.
Violet smiled and adjusted it a little, leaning up to yell, “That’s a good look for you.”
Pulling apart the plastic adjuster on the back of the baseball hat, I gestured for Vi to hook it onto the belt loop on my jeans. As she did, I snagged a yellow glow-in-the-dark whistle (she loved her whistles) and put it around her neck. Next, I picked up a glowing pink ring (it looked like one of those candy ring pops) and held it out.
She laughed and held out her pointer finger for me to slip it on.
After I added a pair of neon-green glasses to my face, we both turned to glance at Nate. Both of us burst out laughing.
He was wearing a glow-in-the-dark mustache, three bracelets, and an oversized pair of neon-blue glasses.
Violet went back to the table and came back, holding out what she’d gotten to Nate. He nodded enthusiastically and bent so she could fasten it around his neck.
It was a freaking bowtie.
This dude was so over the top.
When he was suitably dressed, he gave us both a thumbs-up.
A girl appeared, a girl who was quite literally covered in body paint, and grabbed Violet’s hand. Startled, Vi let out a squeal, and I reacted instantly, rushing forward to get in the middle of them.
“Hair paint!” the girl yelled, not offended at the way I was about to literally take her out.
Woman or not, no one got to grab Vi.
I glanced at Violet, and she grinned. So I stepped back and watched this glowing girl paint streaks of neon pink, orange, and green through Violet’s long blond hair.
When she was done, the girl grabbed at the long-sleeved shirt Violet was wearing over another. She peeled it down over her shoulders, and Violet started shaking her head.
The girl yelled something that even I couldn’t hear, and Violet relented. Shyly, she peeled the flannel-looking button-down off her body and then tied it around her waist.
All she had on beneath it was a white tank top.
My mouth ran dry.
The strange girl lifted a paint stick, and I knew she was about to draw on my girl.
“Whoa,” I said, inserting myself between them. I grabbed the paint stick and smiled. “I’ll take it from here.”
Violet waved at her new glow buddy, and the girl smiled.
“Here!” I called and handed her a green stick. “Paint my bro!” I pointed at Nate, who was standing there dancing all by himself.
She nodded and went over to him, not shy at all, running her hands over his chest and arms.
Nate froze. The surprise on his face made me laugh. He glanced at me, and I gyrated my hips like he should be getting some of that.
Violet smacked me.
I grabbed her up and kissed her.
Pulling back, I fingered the colored streaks in her hair. “I like it!” I told her.
Vi snatched the pink paint tube out of my hand and started putting it on her mouth like it was lipstick. I had a single WTF moment, but then I got distracted by that mouth and what I knew it felt like against mine.
When she was done, she crooked her finger at me to come close. I obliged, of course. Her small hand grasped my chin and turned it so she could plant a kiss right on my cheek. Pulling back, she studied what she’d done and grinned widely.
Then she turned my face to the other side and kissed me again. Then she kissed the underside of my jaw.
With a small sound, I watched as she swiped on some more paint, then leaned close, this time going painfully slow, her target the side of my neck.
My body trembled, and I knew it was more than the beat of the song.
Anticipation coiled in my center, and beside my hips, my hands balled into fists.
“What are you doing?” I growled.
She didn’t answer. Instead, her lips latched onto my neck and sucked.
My body jolted because, holy fuck, I liked it. The way her lips increased in pressure and her tongue stroked over my skin was sweet torture. She pulled back way too fast for my liking, and I went to grab her back. She laughed and kissed the other side of my neck.
Violet wound her arms around my neck, rising onto her tiptoes and brushing along the front of my body. I clutched her against me as she rose up to my mouth.
Instead of kissing me full on, she pressed another one of her hot little teasing kisses right on the edge of my lips.
When she pulled back, satisfaction shone in her eyes.
“I have kiss marks all over me, don’t I?” I mused.
She smiled. “You look taken,” she called.
Well. Didn’t she look mighty proud of herself?
No one had ever been possessive over me before.
I kinda liked it.
“You missed a spot,” I told her. Before she could ask where, I covered her lips with mine, mashing them together until I wasn’t sure where I ended and she began.
When I felt her body start to slip down mine, I lifted my head. There was only a trace of glow-in-the-dark paint left on her lips now. I knew if I looked in the mirror, it would be all over mine instead.
I kinda liked that, too.
I painted a few abstract lines and designs down her arms, over her collarbone, and across the exposed part of her chest. Tiny splatters of paint dotted her face, making it look like she had multi-colored freckles. The entire time I worked, her skin rippled beneath my touch, and I made sure to work slow—you know, give her some of that sweet torture she’d just given me.
When I was done, she pulled at my shirt. “You’re overdressed!” she yelled.
I glanced around. Most of the guys in here weren’t wearing a shirt. Instead, their upper bodies were covered in paint.
Even Nate had lost his shirt, and the glowy girl was lighting him up.
I handed Vi my hat and glasses so I could pull off the T-shirt, then quickly replaced the props to help hide my face. It was dark, and everyone was partying and drinking, but still. I had to be cautious.
A new vibe wafted off Violet, which made me forget all about being spotted. She didn’t notice what I was doing, though.
She was too busy staring.
At my chest.
I wasn’t a huge guy, but I danced a lot. My job required some kind of physical stamina, so my body was lean, but it was cut.
“See something you like?” I drawled.
Her eyes flashed up to mine, then right back to my body.
I felt used.
Violet could use me anytime.
Without a word, she stepped forward. My heart stopped when she leaned forward and kissed my chest. When she pulled back, her eyes shyly lifted.
Swallowing past the rising emotion in my chest, I swiped at her lower lip. “There’s no paint left on your mouth,” I told her.
“That one was just for me.”
Well, didn’t that hit me right in the feels? It hit me in feels I didn’t even know I had.
“Paint!” she said, coming out of the moment far faster than me. Her hand shot out between us, demanding. I slapped a few tubes into her palm, and she made herself busy covering me color.
As she worked, my feet and hips moved to the music. Nate appeared with drinks in his hand. Beers and neon Jell-O shots. I took two of the shots and tossed them both back.
“Dude!” Nate scolded. “One was Violet’s!”
Over the music, I yelled. “She doesn’t drink, butt munch!”
Nate grinned, and I knew he was remembering all the years we weren’t allowed to cuss and butt munch had been our favorite term.
Glow-in-the-dark silly string shot through the air, and people cheered. It hit me in the side of the head and hung off my hat. Violet laughed and picked it off, dropping it to the floor.
A song I fucking loved started pumping through the crowd, and I gave a shout. After taking a swig of the beer, I grabbed Violet’s hand. “No more paint. Let’s dance.”
“I’m going to the beer pong,” Nate yelled and pointed to a corner of the room where a pretty impressive game of glowing beer pong was set up. Pong was Nate’s game.
He disappeared, and I towed a hesitant Violet into the dancing crowd. “I don’t dance,” she tried to tell me again.
I latched onto her hips, fitting my body against hers, and proved her wrong.
Oh, she danced. Her body followed mine like thunder after a lightning strike. I lost myself in the music, in how good it felt to freaking move and dance.
I don’t know how long we’d been dancing, but after a while, I missed her body. Noting it was no longer pressed close, I lifted my head.
She was still there, off to the side, watching me move with awe and attraction in her eyes. She wasn’t the only one watching, though. Apparently, during my dancing blackout, I’d drawn an audience. Everyone had created a small circle around me, and in the center, I was performing without even knowing it.
I stopped abruptly, my gaze flying around, looking for anyone with recognition in their eyes. Instead, they all started clapping and woo-hooing at my mini show. A few glasses were raised in my honor, and though I was flattered, it was attention I did not want.
I went to Violet, wrapped my arms around her waist, and pulled her in. Her arms came up instantly, and we started slow dancing in the middle of an upbeat pop song. Lights flashed overhead, making me feel disoriented and tilted.
“Where the hell did you learn to move like that?” she yelled in my ear.
I shrugged. “Nowhere.”
Her eyes called me a liar, so I dipped my head and kissed her. It was effective at distracting her, so I continued kissing as we moved our bodies in a rhythm only the pair of us seemed to hear.
The sound of an ear-piercing alarm drowned out everything. Violet jerked back, her eyes wide with fear. I pulled her back into my body, wrapping her tight and shielding her head with my arm as I glanced around, wondering what the fuck was going on.
No one else seemed worried, though. In fact, everyone started to scream and cheer.
The next thing I knew, tons and tons of confetti started raining from the ceiling.
“You’ve. Been. Bombed!” the DJ yelled into his mic.
People cheered, and the music continued as more and more of the confetti rained down from the sky.
Violet lifted her head out of my chest, gazing up. The multicolored paper covered her hair, sat on her shoulders, and even clung to her eyelashes.
She grinned and held out her palm, catching some in her hand.
Her joy was infectious, and my own chin lifted, letting it rain onto the glasses and into my face. She laughed and poured what was in her palm over my hat, and I shook my head like a dog, making it rain off the brim.
She looked beautiful standing there, glowing in the dark, covered in confetti and laughing.
My heart stuttered, and another limit of mine was met.
It wasn’t enough. Not anymore. Kissing her. Touching her. Dancing. I loved it all.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wanted more. Desperately.
She must have felt the change come over me because her smile faded and her stare became heavy with desire.
Cupping her face, I leaned close. “You wanna get out of here?”
She nodded.