Taking the Handoff, page 16
I sigh heavily, then grab a soft, fitted teal sweater from my drawer and finish getting dressed. I meet Luke downstairs as he requested, guitar in hand and my anxiety clawing at my throat.
He looks giddy, like a kid at Christmas, so I quickly paste a smile on my face and hope he doesn’t see the cracks in my exterior. He walks up to me and pulls out a black blindfold that looks just like the one he used when he surprised me by taking me to the Hollywood Bowl.
I quirk my brow and shoot him a look. “Taking me to another venue to perform?”
I ignore the quick spike in my heart rate at the thought of having to play when I can hardly stand to hold my guitar.
“Not quite.” He looks at me closely, his gaze soft and gentle as his eyes connect with mine. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it.
He smiles. “Good. Now, close your eyes.”
I do as he asks and feel the blindfold over my eyes. He guides me to his car and helps to buckle me in. “We’ll be there in about forty minutes if traffic is on our side.”
“And where is there exactly?”
“Nope. You’re not gonna get me to spill that easily.”
I slide my right hand along the side of my thigh and squeeze as tight as I can, hoping Luke can’t tell what I’m doing. The longer we drive, the more I grip the bottom of my thigh, hoping the pressure will help relieve some of my anxiety. By the time the car stops, I’m a ball of nerves and have to actively remind myself to breathe. I’m so confused about why I’m feeling this way. I’ve never struggled with anxiety like this before. But I’ve also never lost my music before either.
Everything feels off.
My door opens and Luke’s scent—all man—filters through my nose. Comfort washes over me like ocean water brushing across my feet on the beach. He grabs my hand and guides me inside.
An unfamiliar voice speaks up. “Can I help you, sir?” There’s a hesitancy in his tone, and I wonder if it’s because Luke is huge and he just walked in with a woman blindfolded.
Probably seems a bit sketch to an unknown observer.
“I’m here to see Trent Bridger. He’s expecting us.”
Wait. Did he just say Trent Bridger? Lead singer of the rock band Rapturous Intent?
How the hell does Luke know Trent?
“Oh, you’re Luke Carter! Yes, right this way.”
Luke gently cups his hand around my elbow and guides me through the building. “Um, Luke. Can I take the blindfold off now?”
“Not quite.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s excited about this, and my heart plummets to my stomach because I’m more certain than ever that I’m going to dread what he’s got up his sleeve. But I don’t want to disappoint Luke. I don’t want him to see me as weak. So I throw back my shoulders and dig deep for the strength to get through this and pretend I’m as excited about this surprise as he is.
“Okay. You ready?” Luke moves behind me and places both hands on my shoulders, stopping me in place. He gently removes the blindfold, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust before I’m hit in the gut with an unexpected wave of nausea. We’re standing in the middle of a recording studio with Trent Bridger standing at the board with another guy I don’t recognize but assume is his producer.
Trent turns to us with a warm and welcoming smile on his face, but my feet are frozen in place as my gaze slides around the room. Luke peeks around from behind me to see my reaction, and Trent laughs, completely misinterpreting my shock.
“I get that a lot. You should’ve seen Gina the first time she met me.” I remember meeting a woman named Gina at Jack and Paige’s wedding. She’s engaged to Will Edmonson, another player on Luke’s team.
Luke wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his side. He looks down at me as he explains. “Trent grew up with Will, and when I was talking in the locker room about your interest in becoming a singer, Will offered to connect me with him.” Luke glances up at Trent. “And he was more than happy to help you out and hear what you’ve got.”
Luke leans into me conspiratorially and whispers, “I may have told him you’re about to be the next big hit, so no pressure.” He laughs, having no idea that the weight of his words is suffocating.
What is wrong with me? I’ve never dreaded singing like this. I don’t understand what’s going on.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and then extend a hand to Trent. He accepts it quickly, his grip firm but not overpowering. “So, what do you say? I’ve got my favorite producer, Pete, here today to record for us. Wanna get in there and show us what you’ve got?”
“Uh…sure.” What else am I supposed to say? If I say no, Luke will be disappointed in me, and I can’t stand the idea of him not looking at me like I’m capable of anything.
Trent turns to Pete, who’s fiddling with the controls on the board. Luke’s phone rings, and he digs in his pocket and then glances at the screen.
“Shoot. It’s my agent, who’s been working on nailing down a sponsorship deal. I gotta take this.” He glances at Trent and Pete who are turned away from us before dropping a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
My shoulders sag in relief when he leaves the room. I need a minute without him looking at me so I can try to firm up my resolve and get over whatever the hell is happening in my head. I close my eyes and try some simple breathing techniques that have always helped me when my parents were causing me stress or anxiety, but it still doesn’t help.
“Emma?”
I open my eyes to see Trent’s expectant expression. “You want to get set up in the room?”
“Sure thing.”
I grab my guitar case, which Luke left at the door, with shaky hands and go into the studio. I place my guitar on the floor and bend over to unlatch the case. The minute my fingers touch the neck of my guitar, my body completely freezes as unexplainable fear washes over me, pulling me down until I feel like I’m drowning.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
Water spots fall on my guitar. Where is water coming from? A horrible keening sound fills my ears, but I still can’t move, and I can’t figure out where the sound is coming from either.
Black spots suddenly fill my vision before the whole world disappears.
Thirty
“Luke!”
I spin around, my phone clutched to my ear as my agent talks on the other end about the deal he’s just closed. The second I see Trent’s panicked expression, I end the call and run to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Emma just lost it.” He fills me in as we race back into the studio. “She bent over her guitar and then just started crying and screaming before she passed out.”
My concerned gaze lands on Emma’s limp body on the floor. Her face is ashen and her eyes closed, but the streaks from her tears are noticeable. I rush to her side and drop to my knees, pulling her into my arms while my hands caress her face.
“Emma. Fuck. Em, wake up.” I brush wet strands of hair from her face and realize that her forehead is covered in cold sweat.
She seemed fine when I left to take my phone call. I spin my head around and glare at Trent. “What the fuck happened?”
He shakes his head, shock covering his face. “I have no idea. She seemed fine in the booth and even when she walked in here. It wasn’t until she opened her guitar case that she lost it. I have no clue what happened. It’s like she was triggered by something, but I can’t figure out what.”
His words penetrate through my fear for Emma’s well-being, and all the blood drains from my face. Triggered.
I look around the room we’re in and wonder if it reminded her of Jason’s studio.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I messed this up. Was she panicked before we even got here? Why didn’t she say anything?
Trent must see the remorse and regret on my face. “Do you know what happened?”
I nod my head and close my eyes. I can’t believe I was so stupid. “I’m pretty sure, yeah.”
“Feel like filling me in? Cause I’ve never seen anything like this.”
How much do I tell him? It’s Emma’s story to share. Would she want another person to know she was assaulted? Does he even know who Jason is?
“Do you know Jason Berker?”
Trent’s gaze turns murderous. “She worked with that fucker?”
I nod.
He slides his fingers through his hair and lets out a soft groan. “Fucking A, I hate that guy, but no one will do what it takes to end his career, even knowing what they do about his behavior. He’s a predator of the worst kind. Fuck, Luke, I’m sorry. I never would’ve just thrown her into this if I had known she’d worked with him. I would’ve made sure she was comfortable.”
I shake my head, trying to ease his worries. “You didn’t know.” Hell, I knew about the situation, and I still didn’t realize how badly this would affect her.
Pete comes in with a bottle of water. “The paramedics are on their way to check her over and make sure she’s okay, but if she can drink some water that might help. I also have a chocolate bar in my bag if you want it.”
I take the bottle and set it beside me. She’s still passed out, so there’s no sense in trying to get her to drink right now. I brush my fingers across her cheek, which is thankfully starting to pink up again. My gaze follows my fingers before I hear a throat clear behind me, and I glance back to see Trent watching us carefully.
“How long have you two been together?”
“It’s…” I know I should deny it, but I can’t. Not while I have her in my arms. “Things are a bit complicated.”
“You said she’s your best friend’s sister.”
“She is.”
I expect judgment, but instead all I see is understanding in his gaze. There’s a story there, but I don’t ask because now’s not the time.
Right now, the only thing that matters is Emma.
She has to be okay, or I’ll never forgive myself.
“You know, I worked with a singer who also…struggled after working with Jason.”
He says struggled like that’s the polite way of saying she had PTSD.
He continues, “She told me a little bit of what happened with him, and then all the ways she lost control after because she felt like what happened to her was her fault. She started using drugs, sex, alcohol—anything to dull the trauma of what she went through. It wasn’t until she almost died from an overdose before she finally admitted she needed help. She started seeing a therapist who really helped her turn things around.” He hesitates before adding, “I could reach out to her and get the number of the therapist for Emma.”
“I don’t know if that’s necessary.” My family, and Emma’s, have always seen therapy as something only weak people needed. It wasn’t until I saw what it did for Will that I realized how backwards that thinking was.
The strongest people in the world are the ones who know when to ask for help.
One glance down at Emma, and I know I’ll do anything to help her get through this. I’ve never been so scared as I was when I saw her lying on the floor looking one minute away from death.
I look back up at Trent. “Actually, uh, yeah. I think Emma would appreciate that.”
He nods his head and then digs in his pants pocket for his phone. “I’ll give Sadie a call now.”
He exits the room right as Emma starts to stir in my arms. “Luke?” Her voice is soft and hoarse, her eyes bleary.
I hug her to my chest, fighting the unfamiliar emotions that are nearly overwhelming me. “Fuck, Em, you scared the shit out of me.”
Her arms wrap around me, and she squeezes me tight. “I’m so sorry.”
I pull back slightly so I can look at her. “What the hell are you sorry for? I’m the one that didn’t think this through. I should’ve thought about how you would feel being back in a recording studio.”
She frowns at me. “You think this has to do with Jason?”
“Doesn’t it?”
She stares at my chest, her eyes unfocused as I watch her thinking it through, then she sags against me, and tears flood her eyes. “I can’t believe I never realized that.”
Now I’m confused. “What do you mean?”
She looks at me, guilt in her eyes. “I haven’t been able to pick up my guitar for days. I used to hear music in my head all the time, whether it was words or a melody, but lately, there’s been nothing. Not a thing. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and I never once realized it could be about Jason. I mean, that happened over a month ago. I just thought something was wrong with me.”
I move my hands from around her waist to grip her face. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Do you understand me? You are perfect just as you are, and none of this is your fault.”
Tears fill her vision as she collapses against me, her sobs slowly breaking my heart as her tears soak through my shirt.
* * *
Emma’s head rests on my chest as we cuddle in my bed. The drive home was a blur, and the second we got in the house, I grabbed her hand and brought her straight to my room. We’ve been lying here, cuddled together ever since.
Her hand slides from where it’s resting on my stomach, across my chest, and reaches up, grasping me behind my neck. My eyes meet hers as she pulls my mouth down to kiss her, and I give in to her silent plea. The kiss starts out soft before turning needy and consuming.
I’m out of breath when she breaks away and stares into my eyes.
“Make me forget,” she whispers.
“What?”
She closes her eyes as if in pain. “Ever since you mentioned it might be because of Jason, I’ve been thinking about that day. I keep remembering his hands on my body, and I don’t want to think of him. I only want memories of how you touch me.” Her hand grips my neck again as she pleads, “Touch me. Please.”
I can’t deny her anything, but I also think she needs to be in control right now. Gripping her hips, I slide her body until she’s lying on top of me, her legs automatically hugging my hips. She can no doubt feel what her kiss did to me.
My gaze caresses her face as my fingers slide through her soft red locks. She sits up, her hands resting on my chest while she starts grinding against me. I fight back a groan, but fuck, it feels amazing.
“Luke.” Her voice is breathless and soft, but it hits me right in the heart to hear the need behind it. “Touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“More. I need more,” she says as she pulls off her sweater and her bra in the blink of an eye.
It’s like she sets off a beast inside me with those words. Suddenly, my hands are everywhere. They slide down her neck, relishing her porcelain smooth skin and tracing across her gorgeous freckles. When I reach her taut, rosy-pink nipples, I can’t stop myself from pinching them, which elicits the sexiest sound from her throat. She throws her head back, her hips rocking back and forth faster against me when I cover her nipples with my mouth and suck hard. My hands caress every inch of her body while my mouth ravishes her breasts like they’re the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.
“Take off your pants,” she says as she slides off me and wiggles out of her pants and underwear. Once I strip off my shirt and kick off my pants and boxers, she gets back into position on top of me.
Her warm, slick pussy grinds against my rock-hard dick, and I drop my head back, groaning. Our heavy breathing fills the room. When she grips my cock and positions it right at her entrance, all I can do is stare at her, my body already primed to detonate. The second my tip starts to enter her, she drops her body down, her pussy sucking my dick inside her like that’s where it’s always belonged.
Fuck me, nothing has ever felt so good.
I grip Emma’s neck, pulling her attention from where we’re joined to meet my gaze. With our eyes locked, I pump into her, meeting her thrusts with my own and losing myself in her green eyes.
“Don’t ever stop,” she says breathlessly.
I shake my head, unable to speak, my body fighting back my release until I make her come. Her eyes fill with tears the longer they remain locked on mine, and my chest aches at the pain there. Then the tears release and cascade down her cheeks, making me want to do whatever it takes to ensure she never feels pain again.
“Please don’t let me go.” Her voice cracks on the last word and my defenses against her completely crumble. I pull her mouth to mine in a bruising kiss, hoping it tells her all the things I can’t say with words.
I’m hers.
She owns me completely.
I love you.
I feel my orgasm coming on fast, and her pelvis grinds harder against me, chasing her own orgasm. Her body quivers and shakes on top of me as her orgasm hits her, the convulsions of her pussy quickly pulling my orgasm out of me. She drops on top of me, her legs still slightly shaking against my hips from the aftershocks. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.
Her breathing evens out quickly, and I know she’s asleep without having to look. But I’m wide awake, realization crashing into me now that I’m not lost in the euphoria of being intimately connected with Emma.
I love her.
I’m in love with her. No falling about it. I’ve fallen. I’m done. I’m hers.
I doubt any of that will make a difference to Drew. He’s just going to see my betrayal, and I can’t even blame him. I’ve broken all the rules of bro code here. Not only have I gotten together with his sister, but I lied about it. My gut twists painfully as I acknowledge that I’ve turned into what I always swore I wouldn’t—a liar.
I hold Emma closer to me, her broken voice pleading for me not to let her go echoing in my head. I don’t want to let her go. I can’t let her go. I can only hope that when I finally get the courage to tell Drew that he understands.
