Rock & Roll Nights: The Lila and Rivers Edit

7. Lila

7

LILA

A nna was looking at me with eyes so narrow I wondered if she could even see through them.

“So, you’re telling me you two went to his room and just talked, and then you fell asleep on the couch and that was that? Nothing happened between you?”

I gulped and tried to keep my face as neutral as possible. I mean I was obviously failing—the way she was looking at me told me that much—but I was going to do my absolute best. Because Anna was already mad at me for having flirted with Rivers Shine like he was the last man on Earth and like she hadn’t been warning me all night to stay away from him. She looked like she was about to explode with frustration at what I’d done.

And she only thought I’d fallen asleep on his couch.

She didn’t need to hear that what I’d actually done was stay up most of the night drinking and flirting with him, only to actually fall into bed with him at the end of it, my body screaming with need for him and his body proving to be quite willing. And after that...

I almost groaned aloud at the memory of his teeth on my skin, his fingertips dancing along my hip as he moved to spread my legs for him. I felt my back arching of its own accord at the ghost of that touch and remembered the way he’d slid into me and moved so slowly, so deeply, that I hadn’t had any doubt about it being more than just sex.

And the way he’d said my name as he increased his pace...

“Lila,” Anna snapped. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

No, I hadn’t been listening. I’d been too busy remembering how Rivers’ weight had felt on top of me and the way my body had responded to him.

“Sorry,” I gasped, knowing full well that my cheeks were flushing. “It was a long night, and I’m not feeling that great.” I grabbed my coffee and gulped it so fast that it scalded my throat. “I need more coffee; do you need more coffee?”

I got up before she could respond and walked toward the coffee bar of the diner we’d found for breakfast, trying to get my brain back on track and remind it of the only thing that actually mattered about last night.

Namely that I’d woken up this morning to find Rivers Shine missing from the room, his clothes and shoes gone as well, and no note of explanation. I’d waited around for half an hour, then an hour, thinking that he might have just gone down for coffee or something, but at a certain point my pride had kicked in and started talking some sense into me. He hadn’t gone down for coffee. Or donuts. He hadn’t even gone outside to make a phone call without waking me up.

He’d walked out on me.

He wasn’t coming back.

I’d gotten out of bed and dressed so quickly that I got out into the hallway before I was truly ready, and had paused for several moments there, trying to figure out a story for Anna.

Because she’d be furious if she found out that I’d slept with Rivers Shine. But she’d be a volcano in human form if she found out that he’d then left me like I was just another of the infamous groupies he liked to sleep with in his spare time.

Music suddenly shot through the diner, taking my mind off that thought, and I turned to the side of the restaurant where I’d seen a stage, confused. We were here for breakfast. It was only 9 in the morning. Surely it was too early for a live show, or even music this loud.

There was definitely someone on the stage, though, and he was grinning out at the people eating like this was all completely normal.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!” he called, like we weren’t all still half-asleep and possibly hung over. “I know it’s early and many of you haven’t had enough coffee yet, but here in Bardstown, when a tour comes through, we like to kick it off with a little performance of our own. What do you think of some music to go with your breakfast?”

No one groaned. Not out loud. But a quick glance at everyone’s faces told me that if he was going to take a vote, they were going to tell him thanks but no thanks. No one wanted music with their breakfast. They wanted coffee and potatoes and bacon. Preferably from a waitress who didn’t ask them too many personal questions.

Somehow, though, the guy on the stage missed all that.

“Terrific!” he almost shouted. “This gets even better, too, because it’s not just a performance. It’s an open mic! We have a number of local musicians in town, and we like to give them a chance to showcase their talents. So, what do we think? Do we have any musicians in the house? Anyone who’d like to come up and serenade us?”

What? This guy must be insane. Who in their right mind would get up there and perform in front of an audience that obviously didn’t want anything to do with the situation?

I glanced back at Anna, ready to share a laughing look with her, but saw her still glaring at me like she was thinking up all the ways she could poke holes in my story about Rivers, and what she was going to say to me first when I got back to my chair.

Right.

I was the kind of person who would get up there and perform in front of an audience like this.

Just as long as it meant I didn’t have to face Anna yet.

I hustled up onto the stage and waved awkwardly to the guy, working to keep my eyes off Anna. “Hi,” I said breathlessly. “I’m a musician.”

The man widened his eyes at me. “Oh ho, we have a volunteer! Hello darling, what’s your name?”

“Lila Potter.”

“And you know how to sing?”

Better than that. I was part of a duo that had been performing for years. I wrote all my own stuff, and I could play guitar in my sleep. Since I didn’t think he really needed to know any of that, though, I just nodded.

The guy handed me a guitar, grinning so big I thought his cheeks must hurt, and yanked me in front of the microphone. “Terrific! Then the mic’s all yours.”

He disappeared from next to me, and I found myself standing on a stage in a small town in Kentucky, staring out at an audience that definitely didn’t want to hear any music right now.

Terrific.

I scanned the place, looking for a friendly face... and saw a face that I’d last seen in the dark of early morning. Deep chocolate eyes, wide cheekbones, and lips that looked full enough to be perfect for kissing.

Lips that were perfect for kissing, I corrected myself. I’d spent plenty of time last night doing exactly that.

Rivers’ eyes met mine and immediately started burning. His gaze flicked down to my lips and then back up, getting even hotter, and I nearly gasped again. God, how did he even do that? My body was heating with every second that he kept his eyes on me, and my voice was suddenly gone, disappeared like he’d somehow erased it.

Wait.

This was the guy who had slept with me and then left like it didn’t matter. Disappeared like I was someone he was ashamed to have met.

Like I was something that hadn’t been worth his time.

I narrowed my eyes at him, glaring with everything I had, and strummed the guitar once. It wasn’t my guitar, but it would do. And now that I thought about it, I had the perfect song for this situation. I hadn’t played it in public yet, but I’d written it a year ago and spent a long time perfecting it. It wasn’t slow or peaceful so this audience might not like it, but it was all about hating the way a man could treat a woman—like she didn’t matter—and walk away from a relationship scot-free.

As the lyrics came back to me, my brain supplying them like I’d taken them off a menu, I started to smile.

Yep, this song would be perfect.

And bonus: It was one of my favorites. I loved the way the words sat in the music like they’d been born there. I adored the melody. And I’d worked so hard on it that it felt like it had been branded into my soul.

I could sing it without even thinking about it.

So, if there were any agents hanging around the tour who happened to be here this morning, they’d get a perfect idea of what I could do.

I yanked my gaze away from Rivers, took a breath, and started playing.

Only I couldn’t stop looking at him as I sang. Despite everything he’d done and everything he was—and how much I should hate him—I couldn’t keep my gaze from swinging back to him. Our eyes clashed time and again, and every time I looked at him, I remembered the way he’d told me that I’d be brilliant in LA, that I was beautiful.

I remembered the way he’d looked the first time I saw him when we accidentally fell into his room, and how I’d thought he looked sad and lonely.

The guy was so gorgeous it made my heart hurt, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking that there was way more to him than that. He was like a lost boy that needed saving. An orphan in a hot, tattooed, very powerful body.

And he’d somehow wound his way around my heart and grabbed it while I wasn’t looking.

I finished up the song and let the last chord die out, wondering if I’d actually just sang the whole song straight at him, and when I yanked my gaze away from him and looked out at the rest of the crowd, I found them grinning and clapping wildly, turning to say things to each other. Hell, even Anna was smiling and clapping. They looked excited. Pleased in a way I hadn’t been expecting.

God, maybe they’d been in the mood for a song after all.

* * *

I’d barely gotten off stage when people started trying to talk to me. One diner after another came up and shook my hand or asked whether I had a contract, and I was getting so overwhelmed that by the time a girl with hair nearly as red as mine appeared in front of me, I almost pushed her away.

“Lila Potter?” she asked.

“Yes?” I asked, trying to figure out how short I could make this conversation.

She stuck her hand out and gave me a smile that made me very nervous. “Taylor James, agent,” she said.

Oh.

Thank God, I hadn’t pushed her away.

I took her hand, my heart climbing up into my throat. “Taylor James. Of course. Agent to Olivia Johns and Connor Wheating.”

Her smile turned more genuine. “Correct. And to the Global Authors, who are currently on tour with them. In fact, it’s those Global Authors I want to talk to you about. More specifically, their lead singer.”

What?

I froze, trying to understand where this might be leading. I’d been incredibly excited about her being an agent, but why was she talking to me about a band that already had a full lineup?

Did she know about me and Rivers? Was I about to get in trouble—or be warned about his reputation?

“What about them?” I asked haltingly.

She leaned in and took my arm. “Come get coffee with me. We have some things to discuss.”

I followed her, casting a quick glance at Anna for help, but my friend was stuck in her seat with her mouth hanging open, so I was on my own.

Luckily, it didn’t take Taylor long to tell me what she wanted.

She was having trouble with Rivers and needed him to clean up his act. She wanted him to have a steadier reputation, maybe look like he was settling down so he’d fit better on the Olivia and Connor tour. Look like he might actually become more than the industry’s designated bad boy and Casanova.

“Okay,” I said, confused. It made sense on the surface, especially given his Casanova behavior last night, but I didn’t see what this had to do with me.

She turned away and started fixing the coffee she’d poured for herself. “The thing is, Lila, I saw the way you two were looking at each other when you were singing. I don’t know whether you know him or not, but I know a connection when I see it. I know when two people are attracted to each other. And that’s exactly what I need.”

I turned to stare at her. “What you need?”

She glanced up, that smile back on her face. “Yes. I need Rivers to clean up his act. And to do that, I need him to have a girl at his side I can trust. I need someone keeping him in line and making sure he plays the good boy, while convincing the press and the fans that she loves him enough to actually be his girlfriend. I want you. Just for long enough to get him on the right road. Stick next to him. Keep him out of trouble. Convince people that you’re together. It won’t be that hard. Just keep looking at him the way you were looking at him when you were onstage.”

I opened my mouth, waiting for the words to come out, but closed it again a moment later. When I tried again, my voice came out hoarse and strangled. “You want me to pretend to be Rivers Shine’s girlfriend, to help clean up his reputation?”

“Exactly.”

“What’s in that deal for me?”

She straightened up and faced me. “I’m sure you’ve heard we’re doing a contest for a contract on this tour, right? Do this and do a good job, and I’ll make sure you get first shot at it. I have some pull with Olivia and the record label. I can virtually guarantee you that contract. If you do your job.”

A contract. As long as I pretended to be Rivers Shine’s girlfriend for the tour.

Oh. My. God.