Riffs That Ruin (Survival Records #2)

21. Raina

W ater drips from my hair as I step out of the bathroom to towel dry it and let Blake slip past me. He pauses after checking the coast is clear and tugs the collar of my shirt to the side, revealing the bite mark he left behind.

A soft sigh escapes me as he kisses it and gives me a shy smile before closing himself in the bathroom for his own shower.

Bending over, I dry my hair the best I can. There really isn’t enough room in the bathroom on this thing to do much more than the absolute necessity, which means I typically finish my hair in the living room area.

I tug my shirt back in place, thankful that we have five days for Blake’s love bite to heal. We need to be more careful. I don’t need anyone to get a picture of that. I know the ruse with Darius would get blown out of the water after some crazy ass fan measured his teeth from a picture and overlay it with Blake’s mark…

Shit. I rub at my temples, trying to ward off the tension headache wanting to appear at the thought. Warm hands land on my shoulders, kneading at the knots in my muscles. I shouldn’t be this tense after a morning like mine.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find Keaton. His drumsticks between his teeth and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. Damn, he’s sexy first thing in the morning.

When my muscles aren’t nearly as tense, he leads me to the end of the couch and hands me his sticks. After a moment of rustling sounds, he comes back with my brush and hairdryer.

“Relax,” he commands, his smooth voice flowing over me like silk. One word, and yet my body complies, simply because he’s the one who said it.

I sink into the cushions, blowing out a breath. Keaton takes my brush and starts slowly, methodically, running it through my damp tresses.

His strong fingers dance across my scalp, sending tingles down my spine. The rhythm of his strokes soothes me as I close my eyes and melt in place. The scent of his cooking fills the small space between us. It might not be traditionally a romantic scent—bacon, eggs and hash browns—but it’s what our connection is built on. All that’s missing is coffee.

The sound of the bristles dragging against each strand of hair is hypnotic, lulling me into a state of calmness I haven’t felt in days. A warmth fills me as he meticulously works his way through the wet knots.

True to himself, Keaton remains silent, letting the peacefulness between us do all the communicating that words can’t. When he has all the snarls cleared, the whirring sound of the hairdryer kicks on as the heat washes over me, drying my locks as he runs his fingers through them.

I watch him in the reflection of the window—his lips pursed slightly, eyes focused intently on his task—and I feel a strange sense of helpless attraction wash over me. His gray-tipped dark hair hangs rakishly over his forehead, framing those intense eyes that always seem to see through me to my very core.

A strange sense of melancholy snakes through me. I’ve really missed this, being able to slow down and enjoy one-on-one moments with my guys. If I’ve learned one thing this morning, it’s that I need to make this a priority. No matter how chaotic the road becomes, we still need each other.

He finishes with my hair and turns off the blow dryer before running the brush through my strands one more time. “You doing okay, Keaton?”

While he’s always protected me and made sure I’ve been taken care of, it’s occurred to me that this might be a show of him seeking out a connection like the other two did this morning.

I don’t need more proof of how much we needed to escape, but I’m sure thankful Darius suggested it.

Keaton lifts my chin with his finger and brushes a light kiss over my lips. Let me finish breakfast, he tells me with the tilt of his head.

While he does that, I stand and make my way to the coffee bar. This time, I make one for each of us, Nash’s comment the other day playing through my head. I’m turning around to take my seat again when he comes out, Blake behind him, both of them fresh from the shower. I’m not sure what held Nash from coming right out, but he licks his lip ring like it’s the first time he’s seen me today, attraction brimming in his eyes.

“Here you go.” I hold his cup out to him and the biggest smile splits his face.

“You do love me!” He grabs the cup and takes a big sniff. “Ahh, that’s the good stuff. Not as good as you, though, baby.”

The door to the bus slams shut and we collectively turn to find Darius standing there. He shrugs off his winter coat, then strips a sweater off, exposing his six pack as the shirt underneath lifts with it. The smirk on his face says he heard what Nash said, but I’m distracted from worrying about it when he uses his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. The man has that stupid V that makes me want to check my mouth.

“No drooling, baby,” Nash whispers, his coffee cup held in front of his mouth like it can act like an extra shield to block the sound. If it wouldn’t be so obvious, I know he’d swipe his finger over my lip like he’s cleaning it off.

“Breakfast,” Keaton announces, breaking the tension building in the room.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” Darius grabs a bottle of water from a case sitting by the door, drawing my attention to the numerous bags sitting there.

“What’s all that?” I ask, grabbing my coffee and the plate Keaton hands me.

“We messaged Gill last night when we picked a campground, and she was able to get us the supplies we will need to spend our time here without having to risk leaving to get it ourselves,” Blake tells me, grabbing both his and Darius’ cups from the counter and handing it to the man.

“She’s freaking amazing.” I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to get her on my team. I swear things have never run smoother.

“Because of her, I was able to get a start on some firewood. We also got some gas space heaters to make it bearable to sit outside.” Darius stretches his neck and takes a seat on the couch with his coffee and food.

Damn it. I can’t believe I missed seeing him splitting wood. Bet that was a freaking sight. I wonder if the others would be willing to take a turn.

The sound of tsking makes me look at Nash. “I know what you were thinking.”

“Do not!” I object under my breath.

“Can’t object when it’s written all over your face.” He smiles and tugs on his lip ring with his top teeth. Why is that so sexy?

“You know what would be fun?” I ask louder, so everyone can hear me. “If you guys took turns chopping the wood.”

“Feels like a euphemism somewhere in there,” Darius says with a laugh. It’s something that Nash would probably say, and if there wasn’t a low key rivalry between them, then I think they’d be friends.

Keaton’s grin catches my eye, and he winks at me. “Big guy is on board. What about you, Superman? Nashy?” They share looks between them, trying to decide if they want to give in.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Darius starts. He puts his plate and mug on the coffee table and rests his elbows on his knees. It seems like he’s preparing for a serious conversation, and I’m instantly wary.

“And what’s that?” Nash asks, leaning back on the couch and draping his arm behind me. His fingers draw circles on my shoulder, relaxing me.

“You’re a private person, Raina, and I get that. I really do, more so now that I’ve seen what fame is like for you first hand.” He spins his phone between his fingers. “But your fans have no idea who you really are. They’ve been fed this lie for years now, and I think if you showed them a glimpse into your life, you’d change your image quicker than anything else you could try.”

Blake takes a sip of his coffee and pins Darius in place with his stare. “And what did you have in mind about how to change that?”

Keaton reaches over me and grabs my fork, stabbing a bite of food and bringing it to my mouth. Pushy mother fucker. Damn.

Okay, fine. It makes me smile like a loon. I’ve never had someone take care of me quite like he does. Well… not since before I left Tris to tour the first time.

Melancholy washes over me like a cold bucket of water. I don’t understand why he’s been so hard to track down, not with today’s technology.

“I propose we start taking videos. I can splice them together and we can post them online. Give the fans new insight into your life, paint a new picture, a narrative that we control.” He grabs his plate and takes a bite like the hard part is over now. But the joke is on him, it’s only started.

We all stare at him, varying expressions on our faces. “And why should we trust you with posting anything?” Nash instantly sounds pissy and on edge.

Darius glances around like he’s suddenly realized he kicked a hornet’s nest. “Listen, I know you guys don’t trust me, and it’s obvious now why that is. I don’t blame you at all. But I want to help Raina in any way that I can. I really believe this will help.”

“And what narrative would you want to show?” Keaton asks, twirling his drumstick in what can only be called a threatening way.

“One that shows the true Raina. A beautiful woman who’s passionate about her craft, but also has fun and is more relatable than people think.” Darius locks eyes with me as he says it, and something about his tone makes me believe he genuinely means it. I’m on the precipice of a decision, and I can feel the weight of it.

“Your fans aren’t seeing the real you, the you I’ve seen in such a short time is drastically different from the one we’ve been fed. You’re so much more than just your songs, Raina.” Darius runs a hand over his dark hair, his gaze never leaving mine. “I think it’s time they see that.”

Silence fills the bus as we all process his words. His proposal makes sense, but it’s a big step, a break from our habitual privacy, something I miss dearly, and I’m sure the others do too. I glance at Keaton and Nash, their expressions thoughtful yet guarded. Blake is silent, his eyes narrowed. It’s like a thousand thoughts are passing through his mind as he analyzes the situation from every angle.

I stare at my lap and pick at the stupid sparkly pink nail polish they make me wear. There’s obviously some upside to giving a peek behind the scenes. But there’s also a downside too.

Nash leans in closer to me, his voice a soft whisper in my ear, one that makes goosebumps travel down my arm. “Roomie, you know we’ll support whatever you decide.”

Keaton squeezes my shoulder in agreement. I give them both a small smile before turning my attention back to Darius. “And you’re sure this will help?”

He nods with conviction. “I’m certain of it.”

The room falls silent once again as I contemplate his offer. It’s risky and out of my comfort zone. But maybe it’s time for me to step out from behind the shadows cast by the label, to show my fans who I really am. Plus, with my recent tumble into the book world, I’ve seen how easy it is to connect with someone through videos…

“Okay,” I finally say, meeting each of their gazes. “I think this could be a good thing.”

Keaton’s eyes flicker to mine, his brows furrowing slightly. He tucks his drumsticks into his pocket and leans against the tiny countertop area, folding his arms over his chest as he watches me.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently, his smooth voice barely above a whisper. “This is your life we’re talking about sharing.”

His concern for me warms my heart, even as uncertainty gnaws at my gut. I search my guys for any signs of uncertainty, for a clue as to whether they think I’m making a huge mistake. Nash’s eyes have a glimmer of hope, Blake seems reserved yet supportive, and Darius is eager yet patient.

“Raina,” Blake interjects softly before I can respond to Keaton. “You don’t owe anyone anything. Not even your fans.”

“I know,” I agree with a nod. My next words come easier than I thought they would. “But maybe… maybe it’s time I showed them who I really am.”