Page 9 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

He stalked to a blue-black acoustic guitar on a chair, lifting and cradling it as if he’d just discovered a newborn. No, he was far more sensual with it than that. His long, surprisingly artistic fingers skimmed the strings, filling the room with achingly sweet sound. It was the start to a campfire song, so familiar I could’ve sworn I’d heard it before although I knew I hadn’t. His mouth opened, and he was about to sing when he snapped up his head and seemed to remember I existed.

And from his frown, that fact displeased him.

“I’m gonna ask again. Why are you here?”

Impulse seized me. It had been a while since my reckless side had popped out her head, but apparently, tonight was the night for bad decisions. “You need a friend.”

His laughter was not inviting in the slightest. “Dude, I must, since people are practically throwing themselves at me tonight to hold my hand and sing Kumba-the-fuck-ya.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe they see something you don’t?”

“No, it occurred to me that you going around begging for change has put my business front and center.”

If he’d slapped me, I couldn’t have reared back any harder. “That’s not—I didn’t—”

“What you did wasn’t for you,” he said simply. “Period.”

Once again, I didn’t belong. Other than with my sister—and now that she was a bratty eighteen-year-old, we fought like feral cats—I didn’t have a spot. I’d thought I was forging one here with the band, but Oz wanted me to understand that I was an outsider. Sure, he didn’t mean within the band, but wasn’t that true too? If I didn’t have a right to raise funds in honor of a girl who’d been as close as blood to me, where else could I possibly fit?

I nodded and turned away. I had my pride. That was one thing I’d never let go of.

A set of keys sat on the chair beside the door. Tossed carelessly by a person who was used to not even needing them. He was rich and famous, the kind of guy who was used to doors opening as soon as he arrived.

And me? I sneaked in places. I followed people. I pressed my face up against windows that would never show me a life I could picture myself in.

Some part of me knew I was playing with fire. The rest just wanted to annoy the piss out of him. Like the kid he would always see me as, I had to settle for any reaction I could get from him. I couldn’t hurt him as he did so easily with me. I didn’t even want to try. But he didn’t want my friendship. Or my love for his sister. Or even my love for—

He didn’t want anything from me. So, I would be a fucking brat. He didn’t realize I’d received a master class from my perennially PMS-ing baby sister.

I snagged the keys and sailed out the door. He didn’t call after me, didn’t say a damn thing. Just kept strumming his gorgeous guitar.

Probably the closest he’d ever come to loving a woman. Of course his acoustic was a she.

I went to Cooper’s dressing room and knocked sharply. Most likely, he was already gone. Everyone probably was. But Oz wasn’t going off to sulk alone, even if I’d probably live to regret my impulsive action.

Coop stuck his head out. From his crown of spiky, wet dark hair, he’d just had a shower. He wiped droplets from the side of his cheek. “Daze? What’s up?”

Unexpectedly, my heart lurched. A nickname meant inclusion, didn’t it? It was a start.

“Sorry to bother you.” I gave him a quick smile and held up Oz’s keys, dangling them from his ancient Mötley Crüe “Girls, Girls, Girls” keychain. It was practically a relic. “Can you just tell me where Oz’s car is parked? He told me to get it started while he grabs a shower, but he forgot to tell me where it is.”

Coop’s dark brows lifted. “His truck, you mean.”

My winsome smile could charm anyone who wasn’t Oz Taylor. “Right. Where’s it parked?”

“He didn’t tell you it’s on the trucks? I’m assuming it’s down by now.”

I had no clue what he meant. So, I motioned for him to continue.

After Coop explained it would be with the rest of the gear and tech rigs, I smiled and waved and thanked him profusely. Pretty sure he knew I was lying, but I didn’t care.

Oz and I were having it out tonight, once and for all. No matter the cost.

Three

I kept strumming Annette until Daisy and her insanely tight ass left.

No, it wasn’t appropriate for me to notice it. Had that stopped me? Nope. It hadn’t helped that she wore rainbow sparkles that made her look like a pornographic Rainbow Sprite.

---