Chapter Two
Katie
Austin, Texas. Yeah, I’d been here more than once growing up. RiffRaff Records, the music label my dad recorded for, had an office here. Even so, it would have been nice to leave the hotel. See some of Sixth Street, the capitol…hell, at this point I’d settle for a nice BBQ stand. But, no. My dad had been at sound check for two hours now and the only sightseeing I’d done was from a massive bay window in my suite.
I grabbed my phone from the mattress beside me, clicking accept when my dad’s picture came across the screen. “Hey.”
“Katie Bug, I am so sorry. Sound check ran late and now there is a problem with some of the lighting.” My dad sighed into the phone. “This is the first tour stop and there are always some kinks to work out. I promise when we get to New Orleans things will go smoother and we can see some of the city.”
Translation? I was stuck going between the hotel and the venue, but he’d make it up to me in two days. Unless something went wrong in Louisiana, and then I’d be experiencing New Orleans from yet another elegant hotel room. I took a deep breath, channeling Kasen and attempting to put my foot down.
“Maybe I could take a security guy and go on a little walk? There are still a few hours before the car comes to bring me over, right?” I held my breath, and silently prayed that he’d say yes. That he’d give me a little room to roam.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bug.” I deflated like a stupid balloon. “The promo for this show has been insane. There are fans already lining up outside the venue. I don’t want you getting hounded by the paparazzi. You aren’t a minor anymore. They can take all the pictures they want.”
“Yeah, no, that’s okay. I’ll order up some room service and maybe take a little nap.” See? My first reaction was to cave, to give in—to not make waves. “See you later.” I was doomed to become a lonely spinster. I might as well skip college and live with my parents forever.
“Bye, sweetheart.”
In reality, I wasn’t particularly recognizable. Because my parents made sure there were never any pictures of me and my brother anywhere—I mean anywhere. It was against the law, and they’d filed police reports then sued each and every time someone posted even a blurry ten-year-old photo. Eventually, the reporters gave up. Kasen and I weren’t worth the legal hassle.
Regarding tonight, my dad’s logic wasn’t sound, not even a little. I was more likely to get hounded if he was with me than I would by myself.
I rolled to the side and grabbed the giant room service binder from the desk. After flipping through it, I dialed up the number. “Yes, hi, I’d like a large Caesar salad with the grilled chicken.”
“Yes Mrs. Cadence, and to drink?”
They thought I was my mom? That was funny. I opened my mouth to order an iced tea, but out of nowhere, “A bottle of champagne” came out instead. My eyes went wide when I heard those words leave my mouth, and I swear, I stopped breathing. I was instantly terrified that I’d get in trouble for this. I was underage and I was lying to an adult. But I clenched my molars together, refusing to take it back. My little brother was right. I needed to grow some balls. “And I’m about to hop in the shower, please ring the bell and leave the cart at the door. Please add the charges to our room tab. Uh, thank you.”
I doubted my dad ever really looked too hard at the hotel bill. He probably wasn’t even the one who signed off on those sorts of things. Maybe his tour manager or the label did. It was one bottle of champagne, and I’d only drink like one glass. No one would know.
After I hung up the phone I turned on the radio. That one small act of rebellion was making me feel a bit giddy. I danced my way to the bathroom, making a small stop in front of the big window, shaking my ass against the glass.
***
Champagne was delicious. One glass turned into more like three glasses, and now I was giggling in the car with my driver. He was an older gentleman and he told me hilarious stories about other celebrities he’d chauffeured for in the past.
“Hey you go, ma’am.” He opened my door, helping me step out onto the curb and then transferring my care to one of my father’s bulky security men. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him over my shoulder, only stumbling once. “You were a delight.” A delight? Was his age rubbing off on me? I was eighteen. I needed to remember to talk like it. I smoothed the front of my cream-colored silk shirt, which I’d paired with leather leggings, and was wearing taller-than-I’d-normally-wear black heels. I wanted to feel grown up. I wanted to look the rock and roll part. And I really hoped my dad didn’t freak out and make his stylist find me something else to wear.
I let the man in the dark suit escort me to my holding cell, a.k.a. the room backstage where my dad was supposed to meet me. When the door opened, my eyes went wide. There were four gorgeous men sitting around, drinking bottles of water and eating apples. “Uh, I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong room.”
“No, no, no.” The one with the big muscles stood from his spot on the long leather couch. He was like a handsome giant. “Come on in, gorgeous, we don’t bite.”
“We sure the hell don’t bite, especially Mason Maxwell’s daughter.” Another man got to his feet, slapping the other one on the back of his head. The slapper had light brown hair pulled back into a man bun and a short scruffy beard.
“Hey. Yeah, I’m Katie. I’m supposed to be meeting my dad here?” I smiled at the flirty guy. He was super freaking cute, and I was tipsy enough to notice. I’d never really flirted before, but I bet with another few flutes of champagne I could figure it out.
“Your dad had to step away to do a little press before his show.” A blond surfer twirling a drumstick in his hand smiled from the corner. “You’re more than welcome to hang here with us though.” He pointed to flirty guy. “That’s Braxton.” He moved his drumstick pointer to the responsible one. “That’s Talon. That guy over there on the phone is Dane, and I’m Brody.”
“Clashing Swell, right?” I didn’t keep up with all the latest music, but Kasen did, and I recognized the names when they were all grouped together like that.
Brody nodded. “That’s us.”
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” Talon was really nice, but he was looking at me like I was a child. I’d know, since that was the look I got from my parents day in and day out.
Still. Manners. “Yes, please. Some water would be great.”
“I think we drained all the bottles in here.” He stepped to the door, opening it. “I’ll be right back, and I’ll see if I can find your dad.”
I sent him a bright pleasing smile. “Thank you.”
He left and the tall skinny guy on the phone stepped into the restroom. Maybe we were all talking too loudly or maybe he had to pee. Who knew, right? I pursed my lips, swinging my arms back and forth. When Brody’s cell started to ring, he excused himself to the hall. And suddenly, I was all alone with Flirty McFlirtersen. Normally, I’d be nervous. Out of my element. But that champagne had really done wonders for my give-a-damn.
“Come, sit.” He patted the space next to him. “I promise I honestly will not bite you.” Braxton smiled with his eyes, and his voice was giving me butterflies. Either that or I was a few minutes away from puking up champagne.
I crossed the room, oh so thankful that I didn’t stumble or do anything embarrassing. I sat next to him, closer than I probably would have sober. “I bet you get in trouble a lot.” I wasn’t sure why that was what came out of my mouth, but it made him laugh so I figured I’d go with it. Also, I thought my assessment was probably spot on.
“And you seem like you don’t get in any.”
I snorted and he dipped down, meeting my eyes. “Am I right?”
“I get in trouble.” No I didn’t. I’d have to disobey to actually get in trouble. “I drank champagne tonight with my dinner, and…yeah, my dad doesn’t know.” I said the last part with attitude.
Flirty Braxton narrowed his pretty brown eyes. “How old are you?”
I gave a dramatic head nod, you know, to sell how utterly uncool I was. “Eighteen.”
“Legal is good.”
I frowned. “The drinking age is twenty-one, I’m not legal.” How dumb was this guy? Did he really not know the legal drinking age?
He chuckled. “I meant you’re legal for me to, uh, hang out with.”
“You want to hang out with me?” Why would he want to do that? I was boring and lame and sheltered. I wouldn’t have sex with him, and my dad would flip shit if he saw us even talking like this. “Look, thanks for the offer, but my dad would pretty much murder you.”
“Just as I thought, you never get into trouble.”
I scoffed. Did he not hear my champagne story? I lied to an adult, scored some booze, and then drank it. I was basically a felon. My Uncle Pax would be so proud of me. I should have FaceTimed him while I popped that cork. Which was way harder than they make it look on TV. I spilled half the damn bottle in the sink. I turned to Braxton, meeting his gaze. “When you say hang out, you don’t mean dinner and a movie do you?”
He shook his head, a wicked smile on his face.
“Do you not value your life? My dad would have his security detail lining up to kick your ass.” I picked up the liquor bottle at his feet, mainly because I was starting to sober up and I missed buzzed Katie. “And then he’d finish you off and bury you on our ranch. They’d never find your body.”
“I have a feeling you’d be worth it though, gorgeous.”
Would it be self-deprecating to assure him I wouldn’t be? I opened the bottle in my hands, taking a sip of the clear liquid and then coughing when it burned my throat. Gross. Who would choose to drink that stuff?
“What do you say? You want to meet back here after we play our set? Your dad will be out on stage, and I’ll let you get into as much trouble as you want.” His voice was a little raspy, like he was doing it on purpose to sound sexy or something. Or. Maybe he’d drunk too much of that clear alcohol and he’d burned his voice box.
I snorted. “You’re going to grow up to be one of those dirty old men, aren’t you?” When he frowned, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Look, flirty guy, you’re cute. But I’m not the fling you’re looking for. Hell, I’ve never even kissed a guy.” Wow. The hard stuff was making me admit all kinds of embarrassing life details. “Yep. I’m an eighteen-year-old virgin. Like a total virgin. Never been kissed.” I shrugged, screwing the top back on the bottle. “I’m a walking eighties movie.”
“You’ve never kissed anyone before? Serious?”
I nodded. “As a heart attack, brah.”
“Well, you’re for sure not the fling I’m looking for, kiddo.” He put his warm hands on my face. “But, maybe I can help you get into a teeny tiny bit of trouble.” He leaned in, and I stopped breathing.
“Get your fucking hands off my daughter.”
Braxton flew backward, and the liquor bottle fell out of my hands.