Page 5 of Ruin Me, Daddy

“I know. Simon told me.”

Hurt rippled beneath the words, and not for the first time since he’d left California, guilt at how he’d left things stabbed at his chest.

“But it’s time to come home.”

“I’ll come home when I’m ready.” He was aware he sounded like a toddler refusing to leave the playground, but he wasn’t ready to go back just yet. Not only because he was faced with the reality that his sabbatical had done absolutely nothing in terms of helping him get over her, but because once he returned to California, he’d have to tell Ace the truth. He’d have to look his best friend in the eye and tell him that not only had he been in love with Ace’s girlfriend for years, but that he knew what she tasted like, what she sounded like when she came, what her mouth felt like on his cock.

Yeah. California could wait a little fucking longer.

Temper flashed in her eyes. “You can’t just hide away in the backwoods of South Carolina forever, Ice. The band needs you.”

“The band.” It took more effort than he would have liked to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She’d made her position on him, on them, crystal clear that night at Roulette. But he realized now with painful clarity that he’d been holding out hope that she’d come to tell him that she needed him. That she wanted him to come home. For her. Not for the fucking band. “Right.”

“Why do you sound so pissed about it?”

“I’m not.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug as though there weren’t a million knives currently stabbing him in the chest with every word. “The band has to come first. You made that clear after Roulette.”

A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. “Since when has the band not come first?”

“I don’t even remember anymore.” The years had blurred together to the point he could barely remember a time when the band wasn’t at the forefront of their every waking thought, their every decision.

Was it any wonder he was exhausted?

“So… you’ll come home?”

“When I’m ready.” Now that he’d had some time to get over the shock of seeing her, his mind was working to figure out what the hell she was actually doing here. “Why are you so interested in getting me back to California, anyway?”

Now it was hunger in her eyes, a hunger he recognized all too well. And it had nothing to do with food or sex. “We’re doing the goddamn thing, Ice.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with her. “Which thing?”

“The thing, Ice. The thing we’ve been dreaming of since we signed our first contract.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit. We got an invite to Play Me Like That?”

“Yes!” Excitement poured off her in waves, and if his heart beat a bit faster it was just the thrill of finally being invited to the rock event of the goddamn year. Nothing to do with the woman sitting across from him.

Certainly nothing to do with the way her breasts swelled with each breath, testing the limits of the dress clinging to her like a second skin.

“They want us for next year?” he asked, still not quite ready to believe what he was hearing.

“Yup. Simon wants us to start working on set lists and shit, and he wants us to have at least two new singles ready to go. One to release a couple months before the festival to really get interest up, and one to debut at the festival.”

Simon was a fucking genius. Ice wasn’t sure anyone else could keep their shit in order the way he did. And when it came to promotion, nobody beat Simon Howard. “When do we start?”

“Now.” Some of the excitement faded from her expression as she sent a hard look his way. “Simon wanted us to jump in right away, but nobody knew how to find you.”

The accusation in her tone stung. Especially since she was the whole fucking reason he’d taken off on his ‘sabbatical’ in the first place. “Simon knows how to reach me.” On the phone Ice had bought on his way out of California, the number for which he’d given to Simon and only Simon with strict instructions not to share it with anyone else, even the rest of the band.

Silver’s eyes narrowed. “Simon said he called and you asked him if anyone was dead or dying, and when he said ‘No’ you hung up on him and you’ve been ignoring his calls ever since.”

Fuck. He had done that. “He should have texted me.”

“You know how Simon is.”

He did know how Simon was, and ‘paranoid’ didn’t even begin to cover it. Simon was overly cautious about what he put in text messages, on the off chance someone hacked ‘the cloud’ and unearthed some important information. “Is that why they sent you to find me? Because Simon didn’t want to send a goddamn text?”

“Yes. And I promise I’m not any happier about it than you are.”

---