Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

6. Jace

6

Jace

When the guys walk through the back entrance, Mallory is already standing in the center of backstage while talking animatedly to one of the Sweet Surrender members — Paxton. He nods slowly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and I steal the moment to look over her outfit.

A familiar ache settles in my chest, a bittersweet mixture of longing and regret. Mallory looks effortlessly stunning, a painful reminder of what I can’t have.

I nudge her shoulder as we walk past her and wink when she flicks her gaze at me briefly. “Blue’s my favorite color. How did you know, sweetheart?”

Instead of answering me, she rolls her eyes and goes back to whatever she’s saying to Paxton.

Carmen is waiting for us on the stage, where the stage crew is setting up our equipment for rehearsals, and she waves to us excitedly. If it weren’t for the dark circles under her eyes, I’d believe that she was okay.

The cavernous arena engulfs us, the empty seats stretching into darkness. The air is thick with the scent of dust and metal, mingled with the faint aroma of coffee from the crew's cups.

Overhead, a maze of scaffolding and lights cast long shadows across the stage. The distant echo of technicians' voices and the metallic clang of equipment being set up creates a symphony of pre-show chaos.

“Good, good,” she says while waving a hand to the stage. “We need to get you guys up there so you can get some rest before the show.”

“Maybe you should be the one who gets some rest,” I say softly.

Carmen ignores what I’m saying and smiles brightly at the rest of the guys. “We need to make sure this goes without a hitch.”

“Sure thing,” Brent says before making his way across the stage and into his position.

The rest of us follow him up there quietly, picking up our respective instruments, and I strum my fingers over the chords of my guitar for a few moments to make sure it’s tuned correctly for our first song.

There’s a flash of blue that I take note of from the corner of my eye, which immediately has me turning my head, and I find Mallory standing there with her eyes on us. Today, she’s wearing a dark blue dress that hugs her curves beautifully and her hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

I wish she would wear it down, much like she had the night we spent together.

The memory of her hair splayed across my pillow haunts me, a ghost of possibilities lost. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought. I’m here to make music, not moon over what can never be.

As soon as I’m about to look away, Trevor saunters up next to her and looks her up and down with a bright gaze that has me clenching the neck of my guitar tight enough that I’m sure it’s going to crack. He leans against the wall, pushing his arm over his head while smiling down at her. And my blood boils with jealousy.

She throws her head back laughing at something he says, only increasing the jealousy since it’s something I can’t seem to do with her, and a throat clears next to me. Evan is standing there, looking from me to Mallory, then he shakes his head with a knowing smirk. “We’re starting.”

That’s all he says. Clearly he can tell there’s something going on, yet he’s not trying to get in the middle of it — that’s a relief, I guess. I nod curtly, then steal one last glance over at Trevor and Mallory before looking forward and focusing on what we came here to do.

I’m strumming the chords as needed for the song, really getting into it, when an image of Mallory smiling at Trevor pops into my head.

“Hold it, hold it!” Carmen shouts before scurrying across the stage toward me, a frown on her face. She comes to a stop and blows out a rough breath. “You’ve gotta get your head in the performance, Jace.”

I nod. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, must be a little tired.”

She gives me a small smile and nods. “Let’s get through this, then you’ll be able to rest. We can’t get through it quick if you mess up.”

“Right,” I mutter, then close my eyes and plead for the images of Mallory to go away.

There’s no reason I should be upset that she’s talking to a guy who’s clearly into her — she’s not mine. I take a deep breath, then wait until the image fades away before nodding at my other bandmates that I’m ready to go again.

This time, we get through the rehearsal without a hitch, which is a relief for me, and it isn’t long before Carmen is escorting us backstage toward the back exit. I’m surprised to find Sweet Surrender still lounging in the back, Mallory sitting on one of the plush couches with them, and each member looks up at us with a smile.

Trevor is the first one to stand up, and he shakes his head. “It still doesn’t get old watching you guys play. You’re awesome!”

I’m about to open my mouth and tell him that we don’t need his praise, but Brent gets to it first. “Thanks, man, appreciate it. You guys have been doing really well, too, it won’t be long before you’re headlining your own tour.”

“That’s the dream,” Trevor says softly.

Mallory is watching our interaction, but as soon as my eyes lock with her, she darts her gaze to the floor and away from me.

She clears her throat and rises from her place on the couch, smiling at the members individually. “Well, I’ve got some planning to do before the concert later tonight. I’ll see you guys later and make sure you’re prepared for a radio host interview.”

The guys nod at her instruction, and I watch Trevor watch her walk away, following the sway of her hips along the way. I growl low in my throat. Everyone turns to look at me, eyebrows raised, and I cough into my hand. “Sorry, something in my throat.”

When I look at Evan, he’s grinning at me like a fool, and I simply roll my eyes before sauntering away from the group. I’m near the back exit when a hand wraps around my elbow, stopping me from making any further movements.

“Hey,” Trevor says while running a hand through his hair. “Mind if I ask you some advice?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

He chuckles. “Uh, you’re around Mallory a lot, with her being Brent’s sister, right?”

Play it cool , I tell myself. “Yeah, kinda, why?”

Trevor’s cheeks heat, and he shrugs. “I was thinking of asking Mallory out. Any advice?”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I force a casual tone. “Mallory? She’s... complicated. Probably best to keep things professional, you know?”

“Is there something I’m missing here?” Trevor’s eyes narrow slightly.

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance but likely missing by a mile. “Just looking out for the band’s dynamic. Office romances rarely end well.”

Trevor nods slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Thanks for the... advice.”

He must think better of it, though, because he nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I figured it would be too good to be true. Someone as beautiful as her shouldn’t still be single.”

“Better luck with the next one, man.”

As he walks away, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made things worse.

As soon as he disappears, I push the exit door open and jump into the back seat of a car Mia has ready for each of us after every rehearsal. She might not be here right now, but I can appreciate the steps she takes to make sure we’re all okay — especially after what happened with Evan.

I still can’t believe he came back to the band. If I were in his shoes and our former manager stalked me, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep doing it. He’s a strong guy, that’s for sure, and he has an even stronger wife.

The car takes a few random turns, just in case someone’s following us from the stadium, before heading for the hotel we’re staying in and pulling slowly up to the curb. I give the driver a quick wave, toss some bills over the seat for him, then climb out of the backseat and head through the front entrance.

I keep my head down, just in case someone ends up recognizing me, and I sigh a breath of relief when I notice that I’m the only one on the elevator. It only takes a couple of minutes for it to come to a stop, and I poke my head out and quickly make my way down the hall.

Once I’m safely in my room, I let my shoulders slump forward in exhaustion and toss my shirt onto the bed before sauntering into the bathroom. I could really use a shower right now, especially after that conversation with Trevor.

The hotel room is a stark contrast to the bustling arena. Soft, warm lighting bathes the space in a golden glow. The hardwood floor has plush carpets scattered around to muffle my footsteps, and the faint hum of the air conditioning creates a cocoon of quiet. The king-size bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets a tempting oasis of rest. Through the large window, the city skyline twinkles, a reminder of the world beyond this moment of solitude.

What was Trevor thinking, coming to me about Mallory? I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. The image of them together flashes through my mind, and I feel my jaw clench involuntarily.

I stride to the window, looking out at the city below. The lights blur as I lose focus, my reflection staring back at me accusingly. She's not mine, I remind myself. But the thought of her with someone else...

I turn abruptly from the window, pacing the length of the room. My fingers itch to grab my guitar, to channel this tumult of emotions into music.

What am I doing? Sabotaging Mallory’s potential relationships? I’m acting like a love-sick teenager, not a professional musician. But the thought of her with Trevor, or anyone else, feels like a physical pain in my chest.

As soon as I turn the shower on, there’s a loud knock on my door that catches my attention, and I quickly place my folded towel on the bathroom sink before hurrying over to the hotel room door. When I pull it open, I’m surprised to find Mallory standing outside of it, and she looks pissed.

Her cheeks are red, her eyes narrowed at me, and she storms past my frame without even bothering to wait for an invitation. I shut the door, making sure to lock it and lean against the thick wood while staring at her frame across the room.

She's let her hair down, the honey-brown strands catching the soft hotel light as they cascade down her back. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of jasmine and vanilla, wafts through the air as she paces. Her heels click rhythmically on the hardwood floor, creating a staccato beat that matches the rapid pounding of my heart.

There’s a look of pure concentration on her face, making my lips tip into a smirk, but it drops when she finally comes to a stop in front of me.

"I've been trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you," she mutters, her voice a mix of anger and frustration. "Why are you acting like this?"

I frown, genuinely confused by her sudden outburst. "Acting like what? What are you talking about, Mallory?"

Mallory shakes her head and points a finger at my chest. “Uh uh, you don’t get to act like you’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t care how big of a rockstar you are.”

“Okay, that’s fine, as long as I know what the hell I’ve done.”

She chuckles. "You had the nerve to discourage Trevor from asking me out?" Mallory's eyes flash with indignation. "Who gave you the right to interfere in my personal life?"

I feel a knot forming in my stomach, realizing she must have overheard my conversation with Trevor. "How did you find out about that?"

“No one had to tell me. It doesn’t take much to be able to use the listening devices God granted me,” she hisses. “What right did you have talking to Trevor about me like that?”

I shrug. “Figured I was doing you a favor since you work for him.”

“Right.”

“It’s true.”

Mallory groans loudly and shakes her head. “You are infuriating, and I want you to stay the hell out of my life. Who asks me out is none of your business, so stay out of it.”

“I mean, he’s the one who came up to me.”

She glares at me and takes a tentative forward. “I don’t give a shit what he did. I just want you to leave it the hell alone.”

“You’re right,” I say softly.

Mallory blinks, then frowns and looks away from me. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

As if just remembering, she stormed into my room, she shakes her head and glances around. “Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Right as she turns to walk past me, her eyes land on my bare chest, and she glides her tongue slowly along her lips just like she did the night before.

Our eyes lock. The air between us crackles with unspoken words and suppressed desires.

The smart thing would be to step back, to reinforce the walls we’ve so carefully constructed. But when it comes to Mallory, my intelligence always seems to short-circuit.

My hand moves of its own accord, cupping her cheek. Her skin is velvet beneath my calloused fingertips, a stark contrast that sends a shiver down my spine. She leans into the touch, a movement so slight I might have imagined it, but it’s enough to unravel the last threads of my self-control.

I lean in, my heart thundering in my chest. I can feel the warmth of her breath and smell the faint trace of her perfume. It’s intoxicating, a sensory overload.

To hell with smart.

I close the final distance between us, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that's both gentle and desperate. It's a dam breaking, a culmination of months of tension and longing. Her lips are soft and yielding, yet there's an underlying hunger in the way she responds.

The taste of her is intoxicating – a hint of mint and something uniquely Mallory. The world narrows to the points where our bodies connect: the press of her lips, the brush of her fingers in my hair, the warmth of her body against mine.

For a moment, there’s only Mallory - the taste of her, the feel of her body pressing closer, the small sound she makes in the back of her throat. It’s everything I’ve imagined and nothing like I expected, all at once.

As the kiss deepens, Mallory’s fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, I can’t bring myself to care. For now, she’s mine.

And I’m entirely, irrevocably hers.