Spite Crush (Rock Hard #2)

Chapter Seven

~Kellen~

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Ford asked as he opened the door for me and Tim followed us inside.

“No,” I admitted, stopping between the two sets of doors leading into the bar. “But I don’t think he does either.”

“So, what’s your plan?” Tim asked .

“Well, I thought I’d launch myself into his arms Dirty Dancing style,” I snapped, rolling my eyes at him.

To be fair, I hadn’t told them about the moment Zak and I had shared before the concert the previous weekend. It felt too…private. Personal. So of course they had no idea why Dempsey had asked me to meet him at the bar, or why I was going.

“Look,” I continued. “I’m just hoping it’s a peace offering. Like, we call a truce and move on with our lives. ”

Actually, I was hoping it was a hell of a lot more than that, but I still wasn’t totally sure that Zak even liked guys, let alone liked me. He hadn’t responded to my flirty text, so maybe I was misreading the situation completely.

“Well, let’s go find out,” Tim said, pulling open the second door and pushing me through it into a wall of sound.

The bar was packed with music blasting and people talking loudly .

“I’m sorry,” a bouncer said, walking over to us. “We’re closed for a private party.”

“Hey! It’s the rock star!” A man walked over with a wide smile on his face and clapped a hand on the bouncer’s shoulder. “It’s okay, they’re with us.” He turned back to me and held out his hand. “Josh Lincoln.”

“Kellen Fox,” I said, shaking his hand. “This is Tim Cleary and Ford Jones.” I looked out over the crowd. “This is a private event?”

“Yeah, the Blade invited the whole team out, so it’s a pretty full house.” Josh turned and scanned the crowd. “Zak’s being an anti-social douche in the back. Can I get you guys some beers?”

We followed him to the bar and as we waited for the bartender he leaned against the rail and raked his gaze over me. “You should have kept the tarp on. That was fucking hilarious. I’ve never seen anyone get under Dempsey’s skin the way you do. Keep that shit up.”

“Yeah, I think he and I just got off on the wrong foot,” I said cautiously .

“I’m not sure Zak has a right foot,” Josh replied with a laugh. “He spends so much time chirping on the ice I think he’s forgotten how to talk to real people.”

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Naomi said as she slid in next to Josh and wrapped her arm around his waist while simultaneously raking her gaze over me. “I see you wasted no time.”

My stomach dropped as the muscles in my chest seemed to constrict against my lungs. What the hell was she doing there? I hadn’t wanted to cause trouble for Zak by showing up.

“Drink this,” Josh said, grabbing a shot from the bar and shoving it into my hand.

I didn’t even know what it was, but I swallowed it down quickly, huffing a breath out as my throat burned from the tequila I’d just poured down it.

“There you go,” Naomi said. “Now take this.” She shoved a beer in my hand. “And go make nice with Zak.” She leaned forward and spoke against my ear. “Nothing that happens tonight is getting reported anywhere.”

“What exactly do you think is going to happen?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Did she know something about him that I didn’t? I didn’t think so, or her reporting on the situation would have been a hell of a lot different.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “But I do know that I’m going to get your boys very drunk and get them to tell me what HSF stands for. ”

“Never,” Ford insisted, accepting a beer from her. “That secret goes to our graves.”

“I think you’ll find I’m very persuasive,” she teased, handing a beer to Tim as well. “And it’s going to be a long night.”

I turned toward the back of the bar, my gaze scanning the crowd until I locked onto Zak Dempsey, sprawled against a booth, one arm lining the back of the bench seat and the other lifting a beer to his lips. There were several women seated around him and even from across the room I could tell they were desperate to hold his attention.

But he was staring at me as if no one else in the room even existed.

“Don’t drink too much tonight,” Tim warned me. “And we can’t stay long.”

“Yes, mother,” I agreed, huffing out a sigh. God, he could be so annoying.

I pushed my way through the crowd, keeping my gaze locked on Dempsey as I moved toward the booth he was occupying. And his gaze never wavered from me either .

It took a full minute for the women surrounding Zak to realize I was there, and I flinched at the high-pitched screeches of all five of them when they realized who I was. Each of them jumping to their feet and reaching out to touch me.

“Let the man breathe,” Zak barked at them. “Go on, fuck off.”

Rather than be insulted or angry at him, every single one of the women laughed as they did what he’d told them, a few of them pausing to run a hand over my arm or my ass as they went .

“Your manners are impeccable,” I told him.

“Puck bunnies don’t respond to manners,” he said. “You want to sit?”

“What’s a puck bunny?” I asked as I dropped into a chair across from him.

“It’s like a groupie for hockey players,” he explained.

“And they approve of this nickname?”

“I think they invented it,” he said, lifting one massive shoulder in a shrug. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come tonight.”

“To the game, or here?”

“Oh, I knew you’d be at the game,” he said. He paused, taking a long drink from his bottle. I watched, captivated, as his tongue swiped foam from his upper lip before he continued. “That invitation was carefully crafted.”

“I could tell,” I admitted. “But I don’t know why you wanted me there. Or here, for that matter.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know either? ”

“I would, actually.” It was kind of a relief to hear that he had no idea what he was doing either. Something had sparked between us, but it seemed that neither of us were eager to put some kind of label to it.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he said softly. “And I don’t want you there.”

“Not your type?” I guessed, leaving the question vague so he could answer however he wanted.

“Not even a little,” he agreed. My heart dropped at his words, but he wasn’t done yet. “You’re scrawny. You’re wound way too tight. And you’re way, way too fucking famous.”

“Scrawny?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Sorry we can’t all look like steroid-fueled balloon animals.” I took a swig from my own bottle as I contemplated the rest of his character assessment of me. “And you’re famous, too.”

“That’s the problem,” he agreed. “Because I’m not…I don’t.” He huffed out a sigh as he leaned closer to me and dropped his voice. “I’m not out.”

“I’d figured that much out on my own,” I whispered back. “But I don’t see what that has to do with being friends.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I don’t know what I want,” I told him. Though, that wasn’t entirely true. Because I absolutely knew that I wanted to climb his body like a tree and hold on for dear life for as long as he’d have me. But this conversation was making it clear that that option wasn’t on the table.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he teased, leaning back against the bench again and raking his gaze over me. “And scrawny isn’t so bad.” He narrowed his eyes. “I notice you didn’t argue the high-strung part.”

“I have crippling ADHD and an anxiety disorder. High-strung barely scratches the surface.” I shrugged. “But despite that I’ve built a hell of life for myself. One I’m not eager to ruin, by the way. So if you’re concerned that I’d risk either of our careers for…anything…let me disabuse you of that notion right now.”

The party was still raging on around us, but no one had dared to come close to us as we sat talking, and I wondered if once again I had Naomi to thank. Or maybe it was just luck that we were in a room full of other famous people and no one saw much of a novelty in the two of us.

“Did you take your medication tonight?” he asked.

“I did,” I assured him. “That night was kind of a fluke. Sometimes I forget to set my alarm to remind myself to take them. It’s the curse of how my brain works.”

“That sounds difficult.”

“We all have some form of hard. ”

“Some more than others,” he teased.

“Was that another crack about me scrawny?” I snapped.

“No.”

Oh.

Oh. That was an innuendo.

“Hey, Kel.” Ford rested a hand on my shoulder as he nodded in greeting to Zak. “We should head back to the Rembrandt.”

“I think I’m going to hang out a while longer. I’ll see you in the morning.” We’d just gotten there. They were crazy if they thought I was going to leave now.

“Are you sure?” Tim asked. “We’ve got a show tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to forget about that,” I snapped, glaring at him. “Just go.”

They both turned and strode back through the bar toward the exit. When I turned back to Zak I noticed his gaze was narrowed as he stared at me.

“You’re staying at the Rembrandt?” Zak asked. “So’s the team. ”

“One of the perks of being a rock star is five-star hotels. I assume it works the same way for professional sports teams.” I forced my voice to stay steady, but my heart was hammering in my chest.

We were staying at the same hotel. That was…information that I now had.

“Does the band share the penthouse or something?” Zak asked.

“No, we get our own rooms,” I answered. “What about you? Does the organization make you double up? ”

“They do,” he admitted. “I always bunk with my best friend, which is great. But he snores.”

That was more information that I now had. What were we doing here? Just spitting out facts about sleeping arrangements on the road? Was this flirting?

“That’s nice,” I said, my voice a little shakier than I’d wanted. “That you get to hang with your friend, I mean.” Seriously? I don’t know what I’d expected to happen when I’d sat down, but it wasn’t whatever this was. “I guess I should probably head out, too, actually. It’s late and like Tim said, we’ve got a show tomorrow. Night. In the evening. But you know…sleep is important.”

“You always do what your band mates tell you to do?” he asked.

“When it suits me.”

“Uh-huh.” Zak smirked. “Well, thanks for coming.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” The words escape my lips before I could think about stopping them.

“See you later, Fox. ”

What did that mean? Like…later tonight? Or just like around? I felt like he would have said around if that’s what he meant. Ugh, why did this guy put my brain into such knots? I certainly didn’t need outside help with that. But Zak Dempsey seemed to make every one of my tics even worse.

I forced myself to stand up and walk out of the bar and thankfully no one stopped me on the way. Once I reached the sidewalk I sucked in a deep breath of cool air and let it out slowly. There was really an easy way to resolve my confusion .

I pulled out my phone and sent off the text that I was hoping Zak was waiting to receive.

Kellen

Room 946