Page 22 of Tell Me No Lies

Tate’s lips pull into a slow smile as he goes to work putting his clothes back in order. “Someone seems pissed they didn’t get number three this time.”

My skin flushes, heating at the mention of another orgasm in spite of the two mind-bending ones I just had. “Guess you’ll just have to owe me one.”

9

NOT EVERY QUEEN WANTS A CASTLE

TATE

CHRISTIAN AND SIMON give me questioning glances when I finally get backstage, but I don't feel the need to explain where I've been. I just tread right out and grab my bass, ready to finish this last set. To get this night over with so I can find a way to reset yet again.

I don't know what it is about Piper. She makes me fucking stupid. Sends every bit of sense I've managed to acquire falling out of my head the second her skin is under my hands.

It would be fucking miserable if it wasn't also so fucking amazing.

We’re two songs in before she reappears, still looking dazed and disheveled from our time in the back, and I can't help but feel smugly satisfied when the guy from earlier gives her a wary gaze from across the room and doesn't even try to get close.

I had no right to claim her the way I did—I know that.

I just don't fucking care.

As we finish out the last of our show, I don’t even try to keep my eyes off her. Watching Piper across the bar is the least of the terrible things I've done tonight.

When the show is finally over, I’m beyond ready to get the fuck out of here. I fly through breakdown, packing everything up at record speed before loading it into the back of the box truck we use to transport our equipment. Lydia, Myra, and Piper help, making the process even faster. I'm sliding one of our stage lights into the back when I notice Piper's limp. I grit my teeth, knowing I should ignore it. I've already paid too much attention to her tonight, and I’m sure someone’s going to have something to say about it.

But when her hobble gets more pronounced, I can't stop myself. I pull the coil of cord she's carrying out of her hands, hooking it over one arm as I dig my keys from my pocket then hold them out. "Go sit in my Jeep. You need to get off your foot."

I'm not normally the bossy type. Outside of what has to be done as the owner of my business, I don't try to tell women—or anyone for that matter—what to do. But Piper needs to be bossed around a little. She's a loose cannon, and her aim is fucking terrible. She's also hell on wheels. Which is why I'm a little shocked when she takes my keys, flashing me what seems to be a grateful smile before limping her way to my SUV.

I watch her go, a little of the tension across my shoulders relaxing as she slips inside.

"Is she okay?" Simon pauses beside me, brows pinched together in concern. "She wasn't moving too well."

"I'm sure she overdid it." I load the cord I took from Piper into the truck, eyes going back to where she sits in my Jeep. "She's stubborn as hell, doesn't know when to quit."

"You'll have that." Simon sounds completely disinterested, which is just as surprising as Piper's willingness to do as I asked. Our drummer has had a penchant for wild women, and Piper should be right up his alley. But, outside of his initial meeting with her, his interest in her has been nothing more than casual. Friendly.

Which is probably a real fucking good thing. I'd been half tempted to throw the guy trying to hit on Piper out of the club with my bare hands. I wasn't mad at him—I understand her appeal—I just didn't want him anywhere near her. I'm not sure how I would react if Simon expressed any sort of interest in Piper. Probably not well.

Simon bumps me with his shoulder before jerking his chin toward where my Jeep sits. "Go check on her. Make sure she's okay."

Now that it’s someone else's idea, I quickly break away from the group, going straight to the open passenger’s door of my SUV. Once again I'm surprised to find Piper looking remarkably docile.

No. Not docile.

I lean closer, taking in her pale skin and slightly clammy brow. "What's wrong?"

She leans back in the plush leather seat, one hand slung across her forehead, left leg stretched out as far as she can get it. "Nothing."

I let out a long sigh, holding her gaze a second before slamming the door. I go back to where Christian now stands with Simon. "Piper’s aggravated her ankle. I’m going to take her back and get her some ice. Can you guys handle the rest of this?"

Christian’s brows lift. "I wondered if they'd given her a little too much freedom with that brace." He shakes his head. "Give that one an inch and she’ll take a mile."

I know he's not wrong, but his assessment of Piper rubs me the wrong way. "Can you blame her for wanting to be back on her feet?" I grit my teeth, knowing I need to shut my mouth but unable to stop. "She lost her job, her apartment. Has spent weeks in a cast, living in someone else's house. She just fucking wants something to get back to normal."

Christian has the decency to look guilty. "I wasn't saying anything bad. Piper just doesn't give herself a second to breathe."

I'm not sure he's right on that, but I let him think he is and ask my original question again. "Is it okay if I go?"

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