Power Play, page 7
I shrugged. “I guess it’s like a practice thing before their tour or something. Chey used to date someone who knows them, and he texted her. I guess it’s a word-of-mouth thing since the club wouldn’t be able to handle it if they officially announced they were going to play.”
“I didn’t think you liked hard rock,” he said, frowning.
“I don’t, but Chey does, and it’s cool to go to a concert that’s kind of a private, by-invitation-only thing.”
“Do you want me to bow out?” he asked after a moment. “I think Ivan was so mesmerized by Cheyenne, he forgot you and I are divorced.”
I shrugged. “You’re welcome to come along. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” He stared down at me intently, and for a moment I was lost in his gorgeous silver eyes.
“Positive.” I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to be looking at something on my phone.
“Are we ready to go?” Ivan asked as he and Cheyenne rejoined us.
“I’ll drive if you guys want,” I said. “I only had one glass of wine, so I’m good to go. I don’t mind being the designated driver.”
“Sure.” Ivan nodded and we headed outside to where the valet was just pulling my car up to the front. “This works for me because I like to drink.”
“You want me to drive?” Gabe asked me. “I’ve only had a couple and we ate, so I’m good for now.”
I hesitated.
I hated driving at night in Hollywood. Traffic was always a nightmare, and I didn’t know if there would be valet parking where we were going.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks. That would be great.” I ignored Cheyenne’s raised eyebrows and got into the passenger seat while she and Ivan got into the back, chatting like old friends.
I smiled to myself because Cheyenne was the sweetest, most gorgeous woman you’d ever meet, but she friend zoned everyone. She was hyper-focused on her modeling career and had zero interest in a relationship. So, if Ivan was looking for more, he would be sorely disappointed.
Of course, there was always the option of a one-night stand, but Cheyenne had told me she wasn’t a fan of those.
“This is nice,” Gabe said, pulling my new Lucid Air into traffic.
“She’s my baby,” I said, grinning. “Zero to sixty in three seconds, and four hundred miles to a charge.” I loved driving an electric car.
Ivan whistled from the back seat. “Damn. That’s impressive.”
“It’s a great car. Sleek, fast, and luxurious.”
“I never considered an electric,” Gabe admitted. “I thought they would be slow, cumbersome, and need to be charged every twenty miles or something. I knew that wasn’t the case intellectually, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d automatically decided I wouldn’t like one.”
“Remy Knight has one and he let me drive it,” I said, laughing. “That was it. I was hooked.”
“I’m pretty hooked too.” He glanced at me. “She handles like a dream.”
“She does.”
“Can I drive it sometime?” Ivan asked.
“On a day when you’re not drinking, sure,” I replied.
“Fair enough.”
Despite being surprised and slightly annoyed that they’d joined us, I had to admit it was nice to be out with a couple of strong, take-charge guys so that I didn’t have to do anything but enjoy. I didn’t even have to drive. It wasn’t that I couldn’t. I drove all day, almost every day, and I loved my car. But sometimes it was a relief to let someone else take charge. Just for a little while.
I’d been in control of so many things, for so long, something as simple as Gabe driving on a night out allowed me to breathe. To truly relax for a couple of hours. Gabe was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. Maybe I was a romantic fool, because Gabe had been my first love, my first lover, my first almost everything, but I trusted him. He would never do anything to hurt me or our friends, and despite our differences, I knew he would be vigilant about our safety at the club.
I wasn’t expecting trouble or anything, but it was always a crap shoot with Cheyenne. She had a well-known and easily recognizable face, and men flocked to her like the proverbial moths to a flame. That was why we’d gone to a movie and dinner, hoping to keep things low-key. But then she’d gotten the text about the concert and really wanted to go, so I’d agreed. Especially after she’d pointed out I needed to get out more.
Now I was out with my ex-husband, and Cheyenne was hanging out with his buddy, and it was a little too much like a double date.
Except it was comfortable and easy.
I’d known Ivan for years, and though we hadn’t seen each other in a long time, he was a good guy. Easy-going and well-read, we could talk about literature or sports or even politics. He always had something to contribute to a conversation. And Gabe was a lot like that too. He didn’t talk politics much, but he did like to read. When we’d been together, I’d made him read “Pride and Prejudice,” and then we’d discussed it at length.
Having him read me passages from my all-time most beloved book, while we were naked in bed, was one of my favorite memories from our marriage.
“I’m on the list,” Cheyenne said as we approached the entrance. She whispered her name to the burly security guy at the door and he took one look at her before swinging open the door.
“I like hanging out with her,” Ivan stage whispered.
“Me too.” I laughed.
I felt Gabe’s hand at the small of my back and a rush of pleasure washed over me.
It was so fucking easy to fall under his spell because when Gabe wasn’t being an ass, he was magnificent. Tall and sexy, with a charming smile and expressive eyes that appeared to be looking right into your soul. He could be funny when he wanted to and serious when the occasion arose, and despite how things had ended between us, I’d missed his company.
“I’ll get us drinks,” Ivan said. “You guys find a place to settle.”
The club was bustling with activity, a crowd gathering in front of the stage as they awaited the start of the show.
“There are high-top tables!” Cheyenne pointed and we followed behind her. She waved to someone she knew, excused herself and hurried over to talk to them.
I watched her go in amusement.
As much as I adored her, she was a force of nature sometimes.
She knew everyone, talked to almost anyone, and in some ways, was unaware of the impact her beauty had on the people around her. Obviously, she knew she was a supermodel and that people thought she was beautiful, but when she wasn’t working, she seemed to think there was a switch that flipped off. As if she was somehow less gorgeous because she wasn’t in front of a camera.
It was one of the things I loved about her.
“This is so not my scene,” I murmured as someone stepped on my foot.
Gabe chuckled, moving closer to me so I was against the table and he was between me and everyone else in the room.
“Why did you come?” he asked, looking at me intently.
“I don’t go out enough. I wanted to spend more time with Cheyenne. It seemed kind of fun in theory. Now that we’re here and there are eleventy-billion people, I’m less enthralled.”
“Same.” He looked around. “We might be getting old, babe.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Speak for yourself!” I teased.
“I am!” His laughter transported me to another time.
To when we’d been dating.
Falling in love.
When nothing had mattered but how we made each other feel.
Sometimes I really did feel old.
Everything had been so simple then.
These days, everything was complicated.
And for just one night, I wanted my life to be not complicated.
At the very least, less complicated.
“Do you want to dance?” I asked him impulsively. That was something we’d both loved when we’d been together, and I was willing to bet he still enjoyed it.
There was a flicker of surprise on his face but then he just took my hand and led me out to the dance floor. Half of it was filled with people starting to crowd the stage, but the rest still had people dancing to the Matchbox Twenty song that was playing.
“Now I feel a little less old,” I said, swaying against him as we moved to the rhythm.
“We’re not old, babe. Just a little more seasoned.”
“Seasoning is exhausting,” I admitted, leaning closer to him.
He slid an arm around my waist, pulling me in. “How can we enjoy the good times if we don’t have bad times to compare them to?”
There was the Gabe I missed.
This right here was one of the things that made me fall in love with him.
“It’s time!” Cheyenne grabbed my hand as she brushed past us, pulling us toward the stage.
I wanted to protest, and tell her I’d watch from the back, but it was too late.
The music stopped, the lights went out, and there was nowhere to go but forward.
“Hang onto me,” Gabe yelled, his fingers closing around my other hand, since Cheyenne was still pulling us toward the front.
I nodded, grateful for his strength as we were jostled and nudged by everyone trying to do the same thing we were. Well, I was just trying to stay upright; Cheyenne was the one who apparently had a death wish.
Except she didn’t.
Somehow, she got us all the way to the front, standing behind one row of people. And when the lights came up, we were close enough to touch the stage.
“Wooo!” Cheyenne’s hands were in the air when the band came on stage, and despite this not being my thing, I found myself caught up in the excitement.
Or maybe it was the excitement of having Gabe’s strong arms wrapped around me from behind, keeping me steady.
Whatever it was, this night hadn’t gone the way I’d thought it would at all, but I was having too much fun to worry about it.
Fun with Gabe.
Fun with my ex-husband.
This was going to go wrong twelve ways to Sunday.
And for some reason I didn’t care.
I’d been sorely lacking in fun since Edward’s death, and for just one night, I was going to enjoy myself.
What could go wrong?
10
Gabe
I’d been a teenager the last time I’d been in the front row of a rock concert.
I tended to listen to more jazz these days, music that kept me calm and centered. I enjoyed a little pop when I worked out, even some country if I was in the mood, but Nobody’s Fool hadn’t been anywhere on my radar. Yet I enjoyed the hell out of it. Having Harper wiggling against me half the night probably had something to do with it, but I wasn’t going to overthink things.
It felt like we were becoming friends again, and I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Dating your ex-wife was never smart.
There was a reason we were divorced.
Probably a lot of them.
Dating your boss was also a bad idea.
My teammates and the hockey world would have a field day if they caught on.
And yet, here we were, dancing and singing, drinking and having a great time.
It felt too good to stop even though my brain was screaming that I was an idiot.
My heart told my brain to fuck off, and when Ivan pushed through the crowd with four bottles of beer, I didn’t hesitate to partake.
Alcohol would make me stupid, especially when it came to Harper, but what the hell. I’d already lost her so it wasn’t like things between us could get worse. I was probably tempting fate just thinking that, but this felt too good to worry about anything other than tonight.
On top of the fantastic company, Nobody’s Fool was incredible.
The guitars and vocals were on point, and the melodies were catchy.
I might have to broaden my musical horizons because these guys were great.
Not as great as spending time with Harper, though.
We were in dangerous territory, but my traitorous body was far too excited to listen to my more cautious brain. My heart was cautious but totally on board, which was a pain in my ass.
And I didn’t give a shit.
One night with her might remind me why we weren’t together anymore. The sex would undoubtedly be good if we got to that point, but everything else would blow up.
That should have been a deterrent, but it wasn’t.
As far as I was concerned, you only lived once.
So, I pressed myself against her, put a hand on her hip to keep her close, and lost myself in both the woman and the music.
I was so caught up in the show, and Harper’s proximity to me, a feeling of loss washed over me when it was over. The lights came back on, music started blasting through the speakers, and the crowd around us started to dissipate. And with it went the little bubble of pleasure I’d been in.
Except I didn’t want it to end.
“That was bloody amazing!” Cheyenne said, her eyes sparking with excitement. “Did you have fun? What did you think?”
“They were un-fucking-believable,” Ivan said, nodding. “I was already a fan, but now I’m an even bigger one.”
“I had so much more fun than I thought I would,” Harper admitted. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“It was great,” I agreed. “Thank you, Cheyenne. I plan to pick up one of their albums.”
“I’m going backstage,” she said. “But I can only bring one of you. Do you want to come, Harper?”
To my surprise, Harper shook her head. “No. I don’t need to go backstage. Why don’t you take Ivan?”
Ivan’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Go on. You guys are actual fans.”
“You’re the best!” His grin spread from ear to ear.
“See you later?” Cheyenne hugged her.
“Have fun. I don’t know how long we’re staying, but don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll make sure she gets home okay if you guys take off before we’re done.” Ivan nodded at us before following in Cheyenne’s wake.
Harper watched them go with a fond smile. “I feel like a mom sending my kids out on their first date.” She snorted. “Is that ridiculous or what?”
“You think she’s into him?”
“I doubt it, but what do I know? He’s good-looking, so maybe.”
We started to walk toward the high-top tables where we’d been earlier in the evening.
“You ready to leave?” I asked after a moment. “Or would you want to hang out for a while and…dance?”
She turned, her gorgeous blue eyes meeting mine. “I’d love to hang out and dance with you, Gabe.”
So that was what we did.
We danced and drank and talked and laughed.
It had been years since we’d done anything like this, but it almost felt like yesterday. The decade since our divorce had gone by in the blink of an eye, and we were right back to where we’d started. That was how it felt as I twirled her around the dance floor and then did shots of tequila.
I didn’t know what had changed, but I didn’t care.
We’d had a lot of issues as a couple but being together like this had never been one of them.
“Let’s do a shot,” I told her, tugging her toward the bar.
“Anything but tequila,” she said amiably.
I chuckled, because she obviously remembered how hungover I got when I drank tequila.
“Let’s do something lighter,” I suggested. “Lemon Drop?”
“Sure.”
I ordered from the bartender and handed her one.
“What are we drinking to?” she asked, meeting my gaze curiously.
“Renewed friendship,” I replied. “A clean slate.”
She clinked her glass against mine. “To a clean slate.”
We downed the citrusy liquid and before she could protest, I ordered two more.
We drank late into the night.
When Cheyenne and Ivan came back to join us, we all went onto the dance floor, alternately drinking and dancing until the lights came on, telling us it was time to go. So, we took an Uber to an after-hours club that Cheyenne knew of, where we drank more, danced more, and got cozy together.
Cheyenne and Ivan didn’t appear to be hooking up, so I wasn’t sure what was going on there, but they looked happy and comfortable together, which was all that mattered.
Not that Harper and I were hooking up.
There had been some touching and handholding, but it was hard to tell if she wanted me or if there was simply a familiarity there that was impossible to ignore. We’d been friends, lovers, married, enemies, and everything in between. We’d known each other for more than sixteen years and there was no way to separate the past and the present. Good or bad, we had a bond that was impossible to ignore.
When the music slowed down, Harper moved into my arms seamlessly, as if we slow danced regularly.
“Still pretty light on your feet for an old man,” she teased.
“I do okay,” I replied, resting my hands on her hips as I gazed down at her.
Her eyes drifted up to mine and the spark there was unmistakable.
It was probably the alcohol diminishing my self-control, but I couldn’t stop the next words out of my mouth.
“What happens if I kiss you, Harper?” I asked, leaning toward her.
A faint smile played on her lips.
“I guess we’re going to find out.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted up her face to mine.
I took a moment to take in how beautiful she looked, with her lips parted expectantly, and then I dropped my mouth to hers.
She tasted sweeter than I remembered, her lips soft and pliable against mine. I nibbled on them, trying to keep things chaste, but I was drunk and horny and she was sexy and delicious.
There was no way to resist her once I touched her.
I used the tip of my tongue to trace the seam of her lips, taking my time to reacquaint myself with what she liked. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I last kissed her, and yet it was so familiar. Her taste, her scent, the way her breath hitched when I deepened the pressure of my lips. Her mouth opened, her tongue coming out to meet mine as she wound her arms around my neck. I toyed with her a little, retreating as she pressed into me, and then surging ahead when she backed off.
