Play Dirty (The Devil's Share #2) Page 5

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan

  Smith had fallen asleep towards the end of the movie. I knew this because I was lying on his chest. I felt when his breathing became deep and his arm became dead weight on my side. The movie actually turned out to be pretty damn good. And snuggling on the couch with Smith? Turned out to be even better. He smelled amazing, like expensive cologne and whiskey. Pheromones. They were such jerks. Plus, surprisingly, he was a perfect gentleman. Surprisingly and disappointingly. Why I was disappointed was beyond me. I was here to work. How many times was I going to have to mentally remind myself of that? Work, not play…although, one little cuddle session on the couch, was that really considered play? Probably not. Once the credits rolled I sat up a little and gave him a shake. “Smith, the movie is over. It’s time for bed.”

  He grumbled something entirely unintelligible, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Uh, what? Do you need me to help you to your bunk? Or are you just going to stay on the couch? Smith?” I patted his chest.

  His hand came up and captured mine, pinning it in place. “Stay here.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll get you a pillow, hold on.”

  I went to get up, but Smith kept a tight hold on my hand. “No. Both of us stay here.”

  He’d yet to open his eyes, so I wasn’t quite sure if he was even fully awake and aware of what he was suggesting. “Oh. Uh, the couch is pretty small and—”

  He pulled my hand and I fell back against his perfectly sculpted chest. “Lie down, Cher.” He settled his arm back around my side and didn’t let go of my hand.

  Okay. This was not good. I did not need to spend the rest of the night cuddled on the couch with this man. Work, not play. And he was no good for me. He was a manwhore, a possible drug addict, and too hot for his own good—a freaking horrible combination. I needed to get up ASAP. Smith took a deep breath and tightened his arm around me. Aw, that’s sweet. What was the harm in sleeping on the couch with him? He was asleep. It wasn’t like he was going to try anything. And if I was being honest, it felt damn good to be held like this. It had been so long since I’d been held by a man. After this tour was over, I’d go back to my workaholic ways…maybe a little “play” would be a nice memory. Shit. From one extreme to the other, good job brain, way to stand by your convictions. I scooted farther against the back of the couch, making room for Smith to bring his legs up.

  Which he did. “Good girl.” He let go of my hand long enough to pull the blanket over us, but then grabbed it again. I fell asleep to the feel of his thumb rubbing the back of my hand.

  ***

  I woke up with my body almost completely on top of Smith’s. And, although I’m sure it had more to do with biology than it did with me, Smith was sporting some rather impressive nocturnal penile tumescence. Was he awake? Did he know his morning wood was digging into my hip? Was it wrong that it was kind of turning me on? I suddenly wanted to rub my body against it to see how he’d react. I’d loved watching that movie in his arms last night. And having him hold me while I slept? Swoon. It was official: I was nothing but a typical, naïve girl. Spooning with this man had made me cross the line, and I woke up okay with it. Like I’d told Lex, flirty Smith I could handle. Adorable Smith? He was going to be my downfall. I opened my eyes when I heard someone clearing their throat.

  Dash was standing over us, eyes narrowed, lips pursed—like he was trying to decide what to say.

  Smith tightened his hold on me and threw his other hand over his eyes. “Is that Dash or Luke?”

  “Dash.” I tried to sit up, but Smith wasn’t having it. Maybe he was using me to hide his wood?

  “Stay, Cher. He’ll go away if you ignore him long enough. He hates to be ignored; it grates on his oversized ego.”

  Dash threw his head back and let out a fake chuckle. “Is that so? Do we really need to talk about oversized egos, Smith? You rock god, you.”

  I felt Smith’s chest rumble with laughter against my own.

  Dash plopped down in the recliner and turned on the news. Smith scrubbed his hands down his face. I took the hands free opportunity to move into a sitting position. But since I was already on top of him, I was pretty much sitting in his lap. I inadvertently placed my ass right on top of his rock hard dick. He adjusted his hips underneath me, rubbing against me. Just that little bit of friction, caused me to let out a little teeny tiny “Mmmmm…”

  Dash’s eyes shot towards us, “What was that?”

  Smith chuckled, sounding very male. “That was Dylan.”

  “Uh, yeah. Mmmmm, I’m hungry. What do we do for breakfast around here?” I looked towards the kitchen, trying to play off my excuse for moaning. Was it hot in here? I felt flushed.

  “There’s stuff in the kitchen if you want a little snack. But we usually stop along the way. The bus will pull out in about forty-five minutes.” Dash checked his watch and then gave a quick nod when he saw he’d been right.

  Smith was still laughing underneath me, which wasn’t helping the friction situation. I placed my hand on the opposite arm of the couch, trying to get myself off his devilish lap. He used his foot to knock my hand off so I landed back on top of him. I tried again, scowling. He made me fall again. I sighed heavily and looked over him.

  “Well don’t stop now Cher. I’m almost done.” His words were wicked, but the smile on his face was playful.

  I rolled my eyes. “Either you let me up, or I pee right here.” This time when I tried to get up, he let me. Good thing flirty rock star Smith was front and center this morning. It would help my shake off my budding feelings for the guy.

  Chapter Nine

  Smith

  The second Dylan shut the bathroom door Dash turned his full attention to me. “Didn’t Lexi tell you to stay away from Dylan?”

  I sat up, rubbing my chest and yawning. “Yes she did. Good thing Lexi isn’t the boss of me, huh?”

  “Stop being childish, Smith. You damn well know why you and Dylan hooking up is a bad idea.”

  “Oh yeah? And why is that, bro?”

  He started to tick off reasons on his fingers. “Let’s see, how about the fact that you are only somewhat ‘sober’? Or that you use girls like toilet paper? Or that you don’t want to date her? How about that she’s here to help Lexi and you fucking her over would put a huge strain in their relationship? Should I keep going?”

  All valid points. Although I didn’t know Dash knew I wasn’t totally sober…. I looked towards the bathroom¸ making sure the door was still shut. “Look, nothing happened last night. We fell asleep watching a movie. Don’t make a big fucking deal about it in front of Lexi. I don’t want her giving Dylan a hard time.”

  Dash was silent for a while. “Are you going to keep trying to nail her?”

  For some reason, his words bothered me. “I’m not trying to nail her. She’s a cool chick. I had fun last night. I like hanging out with her.”

  “You like hanging out with her?” Dash sounded confused. “Since when do you hang out, Smith?”

  I’d let him say his piece, but now I was getting pissed. “I don’t know, Dash, since when do you?” Ha, I had him there. Dash had been no better than me in the easy lays department before he met Lexi. And Luke had given him hell about it every step of the way by throwing his past in his face nonstop.

  “You’re right, man.” He glanced back down the hall before continuing, “But I was ready to change. The second I met Lexi, I wanted it to be different; I wanted to be better. Can you honestly say the same? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you are ready to calm down? That you are ready to give up the groupies and the late nights and the random hook ups in gas station bathrooms?”

  I pointed a finger at him. “Not fair on that last one and you know it. I’d just so happened to bang that one the night before. It was coincidence that she was at that gas station the next day.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Either way, man.”

  I didn’t get a chance to say anything else becau
se Dylan came out of the bathroom still wearing her comfy clothes. But she’d taken her hair down and put on a little bit of makeup. It didn’t matter what clothes she wore, or if she had on makeup or not, or if her hair was up or down…she was always stunning. And when I realized she was coming to sit back down by me instead of one of the empty recliners, I smiled like a moron. “All right, mi Cher, let’s get you some food.” I got up long enough to grab a granola bar, some yogurt, and the box of Lucky Charms before going to sit back on the couch. I held out the food like an offering. “Pick your poison.”

  She grabbed the yogurt and the spoon. “Thank you.” She nodded her head in the direction of the cereal box I was holding. “You know that actually is poison, right?”

  I dug into the sugary cereal with a huge smile on my face and threw the granola bar at Dash. I was more than a little pleased when it landed right on his dick. By the look he shot me, he was not. “Where to today?”

  Dash sighed, “You know you have a schedule on your phone, right?”

  I nodded. “No doubt. But why would I bother looking at it when you always know exactly what’s up?”

  Dash’s eyes went to Dylan then back to me. “I don’t know, Smith, maybe because it’s the grown up thing to do. The responsible thing to do? But if you aren’t ready for that…”

  I didn’t miss the emphasis he placed on the word ready. I heard his stupid ass loud and clear. When Dylan finished her yogurt I took her trash and her spoon back to the kitchen. “Who wants coffee?”

  Dylan raised her hand, causing Dash to chuckle. “Trust me, Dylan, you don’t want any of the coffee Smith makes.”

  Dylan laughed. “Oh yeah? Is he that bad of a cook that he can’t even make a decent cup of coffee?”

  I rolled my eyes before pressing the brew button on our machine. “I make an amazing cup of coffee. My bandmates just can’t handle chicory. They aren’t man enough.”

  Dylan pursed her lips. “Yeah…I don’t think I’m man enough either. I’ll pass.”

  I shrugged and stayed at the coffee maker. Dash made a pretty good point, as much as I hated to say it. Not about the coffee, he was so wrong about that. But, the other stuff…was I ready to stop the party? Was I ready to walk off that stage every night and come back to the bus? I looked over my shoulder at Dylan, all nestled in blankets on the couch. I could give it a shot, right? Maybe try it on for size and see how it felt? I mean, Lexi couldn’t get pissed if Dylan and I were just hanging out at night. And if Lexi stayed happy, then Dash would stay happy. And Luke and Jacks and Dagger. Around here, if Lexi ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later, on the dot, the bus pulled out and all of us were in the living room. Dylan and I were still on the couch, Dash was in his recliner with Lexi in his lap, Luke was in the other recliner, and Jacks had just stumbled into the room and collapsed on the floor using a sleeping Dagger like a body pillow. The love between that boy and his friend’s girlfriend’s dog was bordering on scary.

  I chuckled, “Rough night, man? You look like a walker.”

  Jacks snorted in response, “I’m getting old. Hangovers are starting to kick my ass.”

  Dylan looked at me. “What’s a walker?”

  I sucked in an audible breath. “What’s a walker? Are you serious?”

  Luke rolls his eyes. “It’s a zombie.”

  Dylan nodded slowly in understanding. “Oh, is that from that weird show about the apocalypse?”

  I turned to her, stunned. “Weird show? What’s wrong with you? The Walking Dead is one of the best shows on TV.”

  Dash leaned his head against the chair. “Oh here we go.”

  I ignored him. “The talent on The Walking Dead is unparalleled. The actors, the writers, the special effects, the stunts…I could go on and on.”

  Lexi nodded earnestly. “He really could, but please don’t make him.”

  Dylan shrugged and gave me apologetic look. “I just don’t see the draw, sorry.”

  I put my hand on her thigh. “Have you ever even attempted to watch it?”

  She shook her head, “No.”

  I did a little happy dance in my seat. “You, me, and Netflix. This tour just got real.”

  Jacks looked over at Dylan and me. “Have the two of you moved since last night? I go to bed and y’all are there; I wake up and y’all are still there. And now you plan on binge watching five seasons of The Walking Dead there?”

  “Of course we’ve moved. We both had to pee and Smith made coffee.” I loved the sassy playful attitude Dylan put behind her words. It was cute. Cute? I was turning into Dash.

  Lexi narrowed her eyes into little slits. Oh this was going to be fun. “What do you mean? You two slept on that couch last night? Together? All night?”

  I wanted to give Lexi a hard time. I wanted to make dirty jokes and tell her that not much sleeping had gone on…and it was on the tip of my tongue, but Dylan beat me to it.

  “We fell asleep watching a movie.” She nudged me with her pretty pink toe. “What was the name of it again? Boondog Saints?”

  I grabbed her foot and put it in my lap. I was just looking for reasons to touch her now. “Boondock Saints, Cher.” I rubbed my hand on her shin. “Hey, in fact Norman Reedus, one of the brothers in the movie from last night stars on The Walking Dead.”

  She giggled, “So do you actually like the show or do you just have a thing for Norman Reedus?”

  I smiled. “Little of both probably. There is nothing wrong with a healthy man crush.” Could my luck get any better? I get to introduce Dylan to the best show EVER. And it would give me the perfect excuse to spend every night snuggled up on the couch with her. Hell, if a cat getting blown up made her lean against my chest, zombies should guarantee to get her in my lap.

  I looked at my watch. I hated to admit it, but I was getting a little antsy. The coffee had woken me up no problem, but now I felt all jittery. I couldn’t light up on the bus; Lexi would shoot me. Maybe I still had some Xanax in my bag? I probably did. I wouldn’t need much, just a half to take the edge off.

  “Hey. You okay?” Dylan moved the leg that was in my lap to get my attention.

  Her eyes held equal parts concern and suspicion, and her voice was whisper soft. “Yeah, Cher, I’m fine.” I cracked my neck and bounced my leg a little. “That coffee just gave me the shakes. Good thing you didn’t drink any, huh?” Right about the moment I decided to get my pathetic ass up and go try to find a needle in a haystack, Dylan put a pillow down in her lap.

  “Come here, lie down.” She held out her arm, waiting for me.

  I had two choices. One would prove I was no better than anyone else in my family—that I was nothing but a junkie. And one would prove I wasn’t. I’m not going to lie; I sat stock-still and stared at that small gray pillow resting on Dylan’s legs. I couldn’t move. Too terrified of both. In the end, Dylan made my mind up for me. She gently put her arm around my shoulders and guided me down to her lap. I fell asleep to the feel of her hands in my hair.

  Chapter Ten

  Dylan

  About an hour into the drive towards the next venue, the crew decided to stop and eat breakfast. Thank goodness, because that yogurt I had was not going to hold me over for long. And everything else in that little kitchen was junk food. I was pretty sure I saw Jacks eat gummy worms with his coffee. I had to wake Smith up; he was sleeping like a rock in my lap. I could feel everyone’s eyes on us as I ran my fingers through his dark blond hair. I’d seen the change in him; I’d seen his leg start to shake and his body become restless. Just like I saw it yesterday before he went to take a shower, and last night when he looked dark and defeated. This time he looked like he was ready to bolt. Like a racehorse at the starting gate, just waiting for his opening. I should have let him go. He wasn’t my patient and he wasn’t mine to look after. But I just couldn’t do it. The look on his face when I offered a pillow and soft place to land nearly broke my damn heart. I might have a very unwanted crus
h on the guy, but I couldn’t stand to see him struggle.

  The guys chose this greasy little hole in the wall that looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. There was a long counter where a bunch of old men were lined up drinking coffee and eating eggs. The booths were all cracked yellow vinyl and the floor old worn linoleum. At least at a place like this no one seemed to recognize the band, and if they did? Then they just didn’t give a crap. The band, Lexi and I were at one table and the road crew and security guys took up another three tables. It wasn’t busy, but our waitress seemed somewhat flustered by the sudden increase in customers. I was sitting next to Smith. When he had pulled my chair out for me Lexi had choked on her water.

  Our frazzled waitress had just taken our food orders. I was going to need to talk to these guys about their eating habits. The only person who ordered fruit was Lexi, and that was because Jacks made her.

  Dash had his phone in his hand and a scowl on his face. “I just got an email from the label.”

  “What did those bastards want?” Smith was tearing of parts of his napkin and rolling them into tiny balls.

  “Same thing they’ve been bugging us about for weeks—the new album.” Dash clicked off his phone and sat it face down on the table. “They want proof that we are working on it.”

  Jacks rolled his eyes. “Those guys are unbelievable. We’ve been touring nonstop for almost a year. And now they are demanding a new album. Don’t we have some vacation time coming up?”

  “Not the way they see it. That email used the phrase strike while the iron is hot at least three times.” Dash shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. We’ll stick to our original plan. We’ll work on the album after the tour is finished. If they don’t like it, we can find a new label.”