Riffs That Ruin (Survival Records #2)

25. Raina

B lackness surrounds me in the dead of night. I should be asleep, yet I’m not. Instead, I stare at the blank ceiling above me, trying to convince myself everything will be okay.

Darius worked through dinner, editing the videos we took, piecing together different angles and creating a story that was actually pretty impressive, in my opinion. I didn’t have any doubts when I gave him the go ahead to post them to his account. Of course the guys gave their input as well.

But now? Now I’m freaking the fuck out!

What will people think? Does posting an unreleased song go against my contract? What if they hate the song? Can they tell I’m dating my band? Not only one of them, but all of them?

Fuck. I guess that would include Darius too, since they think he’s my boyfriend. This isn’t good.

I should have him delete the video. It’s too risky. There’s too much to lose.

Why did I ever say yes?

Okay, that’s it, I can’t stay here any longer. I carefully scooch to the side of the bed, wiggling out from under Keaton’s arm. Glancing down at him, it’s weird seeing him without his drumsticks in his hands. I wonder if he only puts them down when sleeping with me because he has me to hold on to.

His fohawk flops onto his forehead, the icy gray tips stand out against his tan skin. I want to run my fingers through the silky strands, but I don’t want to risk waking him up.

It only takes me a few steps to get to the exit. A slight creak rings through the quiet when I close the bedroom door behind me, making me wince. I sure hope it doesn’t wake anyone.

I know this bus like the back of my hand, so I don’t need any light to make my way, but it’s also the size of a large closet, so it’s not that hard to find the bunks right by the bedroom door. At least there’s a tiny separation of space with the closet and bathroom on either side of the hall between the bunks and bedroom. But it doesn’t really offer much in sound dampening.

Nash and Blake took the top bunks, and Keaton uses one of the bottom bunks. The guys have stashed instruments on the middle bunks, which leaves Darius to the bottom on the other side.

Crouching to the floor, I move the curtain that gives an illusion of privacy with the back of my hand. “Darius,” I whisper, waiting for him to show any signs of hearing me. After a period that feels like ten minutes but is probably closer to two seconds, I reach out and poke him in the shoulder.

“Dare, pst. Wake up,” I hiss before grabbing his shoulder and giving him a soft shake.

He wakes with a start. His arms flail like he’s not sure where he is for a second, the bunk area too coffin-esque to wake up like that, making me grimace at what I put him through.

“Raina?” he asks once his gaze settles on me. “What’s wrong?”

“Shh,” I soothe. “Don’t wake anyone.”

“Sorry,” he says, lowering his voice. I get the distinct feeling he’s trying to study me for any injuries, pointing to why I woke him up, but I’m sure he’s hindered by the darkness the same as me.

“Where’s your phone?” I bite my bottom lip, wanting to hurry him on with my hands, but know it won’t do me any good.

“My what? Why would you want that?” he asks, clearly confused and rightfully so. It’s unfair to expect him to keep up with my crazy.

“Phone,” I practically whine.

He runs his hands over his face and swings his legs out before rolling his lithe body from the bunk without hitting his head. “Come on.” His hand lands on the base of my spine and he guides me to the front of the bus.

Don’t pay attention to his abs, don’t pay attention to his abs.

When we reach the sofa, I grab a blanket and hand it to him. “Here you go.”

He takes it with a huge smirk, but doesn’t call me out on why I gave it to him, although his eyes did that enough already. “Now tell me why you woke me up, sweetheart.”

Before I can object, he drapes the blanket around my shoulders, but thankfully he reaches for a shirt, tugging it over his head.

“We need to delete the video,” I tell him, a hint of panic threaded through my voice. It feels like a ticking bomb ready to go off in my hands.

He opens the blinds behind the couch, giving us a view of the snow-covered forest outside the window. Moonlight filters through the trees and bounces off the snow, providing us more than enough light to see each other by.

“Sit,” he orders, patting the seat next to him. Once I’m settled, he covers our laps with another blanket and unplugs his phone from where it rests on an end table. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked the videos.”

“I did, but…” I trail off, clamming up on him. I was warned he was sent here to spy on me. My gut denies it, but showing him a vulnerable side seems too risky.

I chew on my bottom lip, nerves aflutter, which is made all the worse as Darius remains silent, gaze steady. He’s waiting, patient, but the weight of his stare is nothing short of unnerving.

“Raina,” he implores softly, breaking the silence that has settled between us like a heavy blanket. His voice is low, a rumble in the quiet. His British accent is like a caress against my raw nerves.

Having him this close makes it hard not to take him in, and with no other distractions, it’s like I notice everything. The casual way he leans against the plush couch cushions, his strong arm extended along the backrest. The concern in his eyes, his perfectly shaped lips. The muscles straining against his shirt… It gives me the strangest urge to lean into him. I don’t even understand why I long for him to comfort me.

“Talk to me,” he urges. His greenish-blue eyes are patient, full of questions, and against my better judgment, I find myself wanting to give in and trust him.

“What if it’s a violation of my contract?” My voice is barely more than a whisper.

“Is that your only concern?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His finger touching my skin leaves a trail of warmth behind it.

“No,” I choke out, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs in a bid to feel like I’m protecting myself.

“Okay, let’s knock them out one at a time, shall we?”

I nod, not willing to trust my voice.

“You’re worried about the label,” he states flatly, getting to the crux of my fear without me even mentioning it.

My heart gives a flutter that a man who doesn’t really know me at all knows me so well. How is that even possible? I nod and swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “What if they see this as a breach of contract?”

He’s silent for a moment, his eyes on mine in the dim light filtering through the blinds. The steady thrum of the bus engine underscores our silence.

“I was worried about that too, but I checked with Izzy and she said we’re in the clear.” He talked to my manager? But why? The question must show on my face because he continues. “I didn’t want my idea to get you in trouble when all I want it to do is help you.”

“So they can’t hold it against me?” I rest my chin on my knee, anxiously waiting for his answer.

“Not legally, at least. But if I learned anything from watching this industry from the shadows, it’s that some bigwigs don’t like losing control of anything. So there might be retaliation, which, if we’re honest, they’ve already been doing.” His hand lands on my back, the warmth soaking into me somehow softening his words.

It’s true, Dickless has been putting me through minor attacks on my character ever since I first said no to him, trying to punish me for sticking up for myself.

If I’m honest with myself, I’d really like to open up about how alone all those attacks have made me feel. How it’s nice to have someone who saw it like it was… Although there’s still Dickless’ voice in the back of my head saying he’s a spy.

“What if they hate it?” I ask before I can stop myself. It’s like my brain isn’t even listening to itself. To make it worse, it’s allowing my insecurities to creep into the conversation… they always have seemed loudest in the middle of the night.

Darius is quiet for a moment before he replies, “They won’t hate it.”

“Can we delete it? I’m not sure if I can handle finding out,” I ask. The nerves are eating me alive. Hell, I’m even losing sleep over it.

“They’ve been posted for hours,” Darius says, his voice low and soothing, but the wince on his face puts me on edge. “Come here, let’s take a look.”

He wraps his arm around me and tugs me into his side. I turn my head to look at him and find his face inches from mine. We pause, staring into each other’s eyes for a beat too long, making it feel intimate and entirely inappropriate.

I glance away, and Darius clears his throat as he unlocks his phone and opens the app. It’s easy to see right away that he has a ton of notifications. He clicks on the tab that brings him to his posted videos.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I think it’s a little too late to delete it. We already have one point eight million views. Even if I did take it down, people already have reaction videos up.”

“Oh noooo,” I groan, hiding my face in my hands.

The laugh that comes from Darius startles me. It’s quiet, but still echoes in the silence of the bus, filling it with a warmth that’s strangely intimate. I feel my cheeks heat as his gaze turns from questioning to teasing.

“Ye of little faith, Raina. Why don’t you trust your fans?” He jostles me with his arm, gaining my attention. “They love the song. I haven’t seen a single negative comment about it yet.”

“Really?” I lean into him, staring at the phone as he swipes through them.

Storm Chasers assemble!

Best song Raina has sung to date!

#TeamDarius

Wasn’t a fan before, but rock looks good on the pop princess.

Darius points to a comment, drawing my attention to it.

Dude! That riff they added in there is so freaking sick , someone by the name of riffmaster101 says. Of course that’s what he’d be remarking on with a name like that.

“That riff had been playing in my head for days now. Whenever I’m around you, it comes to mind.” He smiles at me, holding my gaze.

I feel dumb simply staring at him, but the man has truly struck me speechless. It doesn’t sound like a line at all, yet it’s the same kind of romantic things Tristan used to tell me.

“Why are you here, Darius?” I can’t help but ask. I need to know his true intentions.

He runs the tips of his fingers up and down on my shoulder, it’s a short movement that seems subconscious. “Because I want to be.”

There’s a tone in his answer, like he thought it was obvious, but I’m looking for something deeper. “No. I mean, why did you come to work with me? You have a talent that lets you practically switch places with any lead guitarist, but you show up right when I needed someone.”

“It was some damn lucky timing, I’ll say that. I was finishing up a gig laying some tracks for someone when the news of auditions posted. They didn’t even give anyone enough time to travel to get there, otherwise I would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t leave before finishing out my contract. A couple more days and I was free.”

He looks at his lap and shakes his head like he’s so freaking disappointed. Like he knows he lost his chance to no fault of his own. I had a feeling that the auditions were rigged to leave me with no talent. I’m surprised I didn’t think to ask any of the guys, although in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. Not like I could change anything.

“That still doesn’t explain how you ended up here.” I almost want to hold my breath as I wait for his answer. This is drawing out to be longer than I expected.

“I decided to come out to your show in Chicago to see if I could get a spot as keyboardist, even if you already had a full band backing you. My manager got in contact with Alyssa since you didn’t have Izzy there yet, and she said she could make the meet happen.”

He turns to look at me again, so close it’s like we share the same breath. “I don’t want to sound like a total dick by asking this, but why aren’t you in a band?”

A soft laugh falls out of him, and he tilts his head forward. His nose grazes the length of mine like he forgot how close we are. My heart rate doubles, pounding in my chest like a gorilla.

Clearing my throat, I put a little more space between us. I don’t think any of my boyfriends would appreciate seeing us this close in the middle of the night. Lack of sleep and fear doesn’t make the best decisions…

“Fair enough,” he answers. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face. “Have you ever noticed the more skilled you are, the less genuine people become around you?”

Boy, do I ever.

“I struggled from nothing to get to where I’m at today, but each group I worked with felt like they wanted to use me. So, I decided quickly that I didn’t just want to be in a band, I wanted to use my talent to find the right group. To be with people who appreciated me for me, and not what I can do.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I lean into him for a second, giving him some comfort that only solidarity can offer. We’re quiet for a moment, before I ask, “I still don’t get why you wanted to work with me. To the point you chased down the opportunity.”

A soft laugh wraps around me. He keeps doing that, yet I’m not sure I’ll ever grow tired of it. “I’m your number one fan, remember? And having a crush on you doesn’t hurt. But then again, I never said how long I’d stick around.”

I gasp and teasingly nudge his side. “As if you’d ever leave me.” I’m not sure how I missed it before—I blame sleep again—but the air is full of our sexual tension.

“Probably not,” he says, his voice lower than it was before.

“One more question…” I lick my lips, preparing myself the best I can for a possible heartbreak. “Did you make any promises to Dickless when joining the band?”

“Dickless?” he asks, his head tilted to the side.

“Oops. That’s what I call Mr. Lexington in my head.” Shit. I can’t believe I said that out loud, it’s just become such a habit.

“Your uncle?”

“Listen, I really don’t want to think about him having any kind of connection with me. If I didn’t have a contract, he’d be dead to me.” I plead with a look for him to drop it. “Did you make him any promises?”

He studies me, his gaze flicking back and forth. “No, I didn’t. They had me wave a signing bonus since I came to them, which made me think he was a money grabbing bastard, considering you were in a bit of a bind.”

With a smile, he adds, “You’re worth it, though.”

“You didn’t offer to keep me in line? To spy for him?” My stomach is in knots asking him, but I have to be sure.

Surprise slams into him, his body moving away from me like he was hit with a bat. “Spy on you? You must be bloody joking. Did that wanker put that in your head?” He stands and paces for a second, clearly heated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overreact. This makes so much sense. No, Raina, I’m not spying on you. I’d never do anything to hurt you. Never .”

“Good,” Keaton’s gruff voice sounds through the silence of the bus. I find him leaning against the wall, watching us. He kicks off and pushes past Darius, holding his hand out for me. “Now stop putting moves on my girl.”