Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2) (44 page)

"Have you seen my—?"

I grab and spin her around, lifting and planting her ass on the bar.

"What's wrong?" she asks, worry lining her face. "Did Lucas—?"

Putting my hand over her mouth, I take a deep breath, collect my thoughts, and launch everything at her.

"You know those boys are my favorite little fuckers."

She pulls at my hand. I know it's to protest the way I call them little fuckers, but that will have to wait.

"Let me finish," I bark, causing her to still and drop her hands.

Releasing her mouth, I press my palms on the counter on either side of her and push between her legs.

"They just twisted me inside out like a fucking girl losing her virginity on prom night."

She opens her mouth, but the look I give silences her.

"I didn't ask to love you, but I do. I didn't ask for a premade family, but I got one. I didn't plan to feel like this."

Fear flashes in her eyes and tears start to pool.

Shaking my head, I continue, "Don't. You're reading me wrong, baby."

Palming each side of her head, I hold her face inches from mine.

"I thought I knew love, knew I'd found the one before, but I didn't know shit."

Emotion bubbles up and out of me in a harsh laugh.

"I fucking love you, those two boys, you're crazy ass cousin, and…well, I'm cool with your brother. Declaring love for him would be fucking creepy as hell, but you get what I'm say'n."

Tears spill from her wide eyes and I wipe them away with my thumbs.

"I fucking love it, Liza. Every goddamn thing about you and all this, I love it."

Leaning forward, I crush my lips to hers in a bruising kiss. Her hands capture my wrists and hold.

Pulling back, I smile down at her.

"And you may not be pregnant now, but you can guaran-fucking-tee it won't take me long to correct that shit."

Her look of surprise morphs to shock, and she asks, "What the hell happened?"

"A fucking revelation, baby."

Liza

Lux Hedonica is home. Even with the new signage to compliment the remodeled front of the building, the inside is still where I belong. The updated furniture only compliments the vintage wall mirrors and bar. Red treats the place like it's his baby, which I completely respect and appreciate. The man may look like he belongs on a tour bus bouncing unwanted guests, but he has a mind for business. And having not been on tour for years, since the end of Corrosive Velocity, he's put his know-how into multiple thriving businesses.

So, three weeks ago, when the contract offers came in from Nobil and Bel Suono Studios, I felt confident with Red reviewing the papers and discussing them with me. After input from Jackson, I formally asked Red to manage my career.

Red's been supportive, brutally honest, and clear about our working arrangement being parallel to the club. He sets up my appearance at the club as if I'm a featured guest so I am free to arrange something else should it arrive. And his suggestion to go with Nobil's deal allows me and Red the freedom to choose most performance venues and appearances, while agreeing to give them exclusive rights to any recorded and live music.

The deal is perfect since I don't have any intentions of becoming a pop singer or doing huge tours like The Forgotten and Hush. Though, I do have a clause requiring me to record with some of their artists, Nobil is listed as my recording label, and I've also agreed to a five venue burlesque tour. The studio time and tour is currently being figured out logistically to allow time for me to work on the creative end of the live show. This means I'll need to record the music in the show for retail sales.

"It's about time!" Sid exclaims when we reach the sitting area of the club.

The tables and chairs stacked off to the far side allow room for different photo shoot sets.

"Damn!" Jackson exclaims, glancing around the room.

"These look great." I take in the scenes.

The large gilded mirror above the VIP booth is draped in red velvet, overflowing into the black leather booth. The table is gone, leaving the opportunity for full body photos. The stage is arranged with a clear bathtub, and pink satin drapes from the ceiling with black and white bows accenting areas. The tub is empty, but a large bubble machine sits just in front. The shimmery white chaise lounge we occasionally use onstage is surrounded by dangling pearls and diamond strands with a white fur rug beneath. The baby grand piano is polished and draped in metallic gold. A plain white background is set up just in front of the bar, and last is a raised platform covered in red satin with a red and white striped background set up behind it.

"Because I'm awesome," Sid boasts, giving me a wink.

"Yes, you are." I nod.

"Go get dressed," she orders. "The costumes are set up and numbered in order."

"Yes, ma'am," I salute.

Turning to Jackson, I push up to my tiptoes for a kiss. He leans down, cupping my ass and squeezing.

"Get a room," Sid teases.

Jackson's head snaps in her direction, a large grin on his face.

"Oh, I can take this to the dressing room if you want?"

"No," Sid cries. "Then I'll never get the pictures."

"See ya in a bit." I pat his chest and disappear backstage to get dressed.

"I have no idea how to put this on." The voice is new, but I know it's Mia.

Entering the changing room, Bethany is fully costumed in a leopard print corset dress. She's leaning over and attaching a garter to Mia's fishnet stocking.

"There you go." She straightens and examines her work.

"Thank you so much," Mia sighs in appreciation. "I don't know how you guys do this all the time."

She places her hands on her black leather corset, rubbing her stomach. The black, leather boy shorts hug her ass perfectly and her legs are complimented by the knee-high gladiator boots.

"You get used to it," I say, dropping my bag on my chair.

A large grin spreads across her face and she slips a black, cat-ear headband on her head.

"Hey," she greets, opening her arms and engulfing me in them.

"I didn't know you were doing the photo shoot." I return the hug. "I thought Chris didn't—”

She pulls back, dropping her arms.

"Yeah, Chris likes to think he's in charge of everything." There's a hint of rebellion in her voice. "Anyway, I figure this is a good compromise. I won't perform live, but I will be a part of the calendar Red is putting together." She moves with a grace that makes me jealous and sits in Bethany's chair. "Besides, he can't argue when he finds out it's for charity." She gives an evil smile.

"You go, girl." Gemma Harper enters the room.

"Red recruited you, too?" Mia asks.

"Yep." She smiles, flipping her neon red curled hair over her shoulder.

She looks around the room and her brow furrows.

"The rest of the band isn't participating?"

"Laney and Kat are in another room." Mia tilts her head toward what used to be a storage room until Red remodeled backstage to provide more private dressing areas.

"Cool," Gemma says to Mia before turning to me. "And you," she starts, walking toward me, "when are you going to come to New York and read for my director? He's dying to add a burlesque inspired steampunk character to the show."

"I believe Red is trying to work it out," I explain. "It's just been a bit…"

"Overwhelming?" Mia offers.

"Yes," I sigh out the word, and drop into my chair.

She nods, understanding written on her face.

"Chris and Jack aren't exactly the same, but they both go balls-to-the-wall when they desire something," she says. "When they work on a song, I won't enter the room for fear of losing a limb."

I laugh.

"Oh my God!" Gemma exclaims, slipping out of her sailor inspired dress. "I remember recording with them. I thought their brotherhood and the band was over, but in the end, they just nod and fist bump."

"That's part of it," I say, shrugging. "The rest is just the career stuff. If I didn't have Jackson and Red, I'd be in a moving truck bound for Pennsylvania."

Gemma holds an emerald green bra-top to her chest with one hand and clasps my shoulder with her left.

"It will take some getting used to, but I'm confident you'll handle it well."

"Thanks." I give a small smile and start slipping off my street clothes.

"My boobs look amazing!" Kat bursts into the room, wearing the circus ringleader costume: shiny, black, second-skin pants, a red brocade corset with gold tassels, thigh-high black boots, and a miniature black and red top hat on her head.

"Let me feel," Mia says, pushing out of the chair and grabbing Kat's boobs.

"Pretty fucking awesome, right?" Kat puffs out her chest.

"Damn, they are pushed up to perfection, aren't they?" Mia taps the curve bulging from the top. "Serena could play a sick beat on them."

"I'm never taking this off." Kat walks over to the loveseat and plops down.

"Yeah, right. One hot, dirty boy and you'll lose the duds in a blink." Laney leans against the doorway dressed in a silver flapper inspired corset. The color compliments her fair skin and light pink hair. The metallic silver stilettos add a couple inches to her tiny frame.

"Where are my models?" Sid yells backstage.

Barging into the room, she looks each of us over, one by one.

"Kat, your tits look awesome. Mia, I may grab your ass. This is fair warning. Laney, you are too fucking cute. I think I want to take you home as a pet."

Laney blinks at Sid as the rest laugh.

"Come on, Hush, we've got to get this shindig started." With a wave of her hand, she motions for them to head out to the scenes.

Mia stops long enough to present her ass to Sid and true to her word, she clasps with both hands.

"Chris is a lucky fucking man," Sid states before following a laughing Mia.

"This is going to be one crazy ass day, isn't it?" Gemma asks, still staring at the door.

"Yep," Bethany and I say in unison.

In a crystal chandelier dress with a white satin corset beneath, my hair pulled up on my head with white feathers, and clear, glass-inspired heels, I walk out for the photo shoot.

"No fucking way, Mia," Chris shouts.

She stands on the gilded mirror stage with her arms over her chest.

"It's for a charity calendar. Stop being—”

"Stop being what?" he interrupts. "Stop not wanting you to be half-naked for millions to see?" He shakes his head violently and then points to the floor. "Get the fuck down and go change."

Dropping her arms to her sides, she fists her wrist-length fishnet-gloved hands.

"Private Island, Chris," she says through clenched teeth.

His body stills.

"You reserved an entire island without fucking asking what I wanted," she continues grinding the words through her teeth.

"Baby," his voice softens.

"Don't baby me," she barks. "You didn't ask about a half-million dollar island, so I don't have to ask about a charity calendar."

Half a million dollars for an island? Did he buy the damn thing?

"I hope you got a receipt to return that shit," Sid mumbles, but shuts up when Chris cuts a glare her way.

"The opportunity presented itself," Chris explains. "It will be the perfect way to keep reporters out of our wedding."

"And you couldn't bother to ask me about it?" Her brow raises.

"Okay, so maybe I could've, but you aren't interested in planning the wedding," he accuses.

Bad move.

Mia's face contorts in anger, but before she can unleash, Sid interrupts.

"I'm just gonna move on to Kat for now. I'll be back," she informs, putting up a finger and pointing to where Kat sits, waiting in front of the red and white striped scene.