Hard Rock Heat Page 13

  Punching walls and doors, the anger and shouting, that was something else. I didn't know if I could get past that. That kind of behavior was a red flag.

  But Damon didn't act like that all the time. Or at all, really. He was annoying, and impulsive and yes, downright infuriating at times. But he could also be thoughtful. Funny. Sweet, even.

  Not to mention goddamn sexy. I could barely control myself around the man. I was like a cat in heat.

  I hated it.

  I loved it.

  Damon Drake had flipped my world upside down and I didn't know how to handle it.

  I think I still need time, I told him.

  You have to know I would never hurt you, he wrote back instantly.

  I know, I wrote. Because I did know. That wasn't why I hesitated. But I still need to think things through.

  The last thing I want to do is fuck things up between us.

  My heart squeezed in my chest. I know that, too. You're a good guy.

  What happened to me being a jerk face?

  I couldn't help but laugh a little. Good night Damon.

  Sweet dreams Faith, he wrote. Or naughty dreams. Whichever. But only if you dream about me. If you have sex dreams about some other guy I'm going to get jealous.

  GOOD NIGHT DAMON, I wrote again.

  I put my phone on silent mode and set it aside. My dreams were full of tempting lips, cocky smirks and green eyes so deep I felt myself fall into them.

  When I woke up, I couldn't decide if the feeling of falling was thrilling or terrifying.

  Chapter Twenty

  "I had a great idea," Jessie said.

  I was at The Impact Youth Center again, working out some more details. The closer we got to the event date, the more nervous I became. There were still so many things to take care of.

  Damon was recruiting his rock star friends, and Katherine was taking care of all the fan logistics. I was lucky Jessie was all on board with my event idea. It helped having someone on the youth side of things.

  "You want to give some of the kids the VIP experience, right?" Jessie asked. "A while ago some volunteers and I put together this kind of School of Rock thing, where we taught the kids music. A handful of them actually started their own band."

  "That's so cute," I said.

  "They're pretty serious about it," Jessie said. "They get together and practice all the time. I think one of them has even started trying to write his own songs. Can you imagine how much fun those kids would have partying like rock stars? I really think it would help encourage them to stick with it," she said. "Show them what it might be like if they work hard enough."

  "It sounds perfect," I told her.

  "How exactly will it all work?" Jessie asked.

  "The kids will essentially get to party all night in the tour bus," I explained. "We'll have all the food and drinks they could want — non-alcoholic, of course," I said with a laugh. "We'll put in strobe lights so they can play music and dance like it's a club. We'll also have the big screen TV if they want to watch movies. We'll probably have a few guitars if they want to play around, as long as they're responsible…"

  "They're good kids," Jessie assured me. "They won't give you any trouble. Well," she winced a little, "Kaylee's a bit of a handful. She's the youngest and has way too much energy for someone her size."

  "Don't worry," I said. "It's my job to deal with difficult people."

  "Speak of the devil," Jessie said, looking over my shoulder.

  I turned. Damon was walking through the front doors.

  "Hey knucklehead," Jessie grinned. "You're late."

  I gave Damon a suspicious look. I hadn't known he'd planned on being here today.

  I hadn't heard from Damon since our text conversation days ago. He'd respected my request for space. I'd spent most of that time thinking through my thoughts and feelings. I still hadn't come to any firm conclusions.

  All I knew was that I missed him.

  "Hey Faith," he said, raising a hand in greeting cautiously, as if not quite sure what reception he'd get from me. He looked almost apprehensive. Was he worried how I'd react to seeing him after asking for some time apart?

  "What are you doing here?" The words came out harsher than I'd meant them to. Damon's eyebrow twitched, an almost wince. "I mean, I didn't expect you to be here today. Are you working with Jessie on stuff?"

  "Jessie said she had something to ask me." He turned to Jessie. "I actually wanted to talk about an idea I had. I was telling Morris about the event."

  I knew from previous conversations that he meant Morris Edwards, drummer of the rock band Feral Silence. They were the supposed rivals of Darkest Days, but if there was any rivalry to speak of, it was a friendly one.

  "He told me some of the kids here started their own rock band?" Damon continued.

  Jessie nodded enthusiastically. "They're the reason I asked you to come. I was just telling Faith about them."

  "I was thinking it might be cool if we got the kids to play a song or two," Damon suggested. "They could be the opening act or something."

  Jessie clapped her hand together with glee. "They would absolutely die if they got that chance."

  "But I wanted to listen to them first," he said. "I need to make sure they don't suck."

  Jessie made a face at him. "Just cause they're kids doesn't mean they suck. They've been working really hard."

  "I didn't say they sucked because they're kids," he said. "My brother and I could bring the house down when we were fifteen. I'm just saying, all indie bands kind of suck when they start out."

  "You were in a band when you were fifteen?" I asked. I'd known he and his brother had been playing on a street corner when August found them, but I hadn't known they'd been in an official band.

  "We've been playing since we were twelve," he said. "Stupid little garage band shit, but we had a lot of fun."

  So Damon had been doing this for half his life. For someone who always played things off as a joke, he was surprisingly serious when it came to his music.

  "That's the age range for these kids," Jessie says. "The youngest is not quite thirteen and the oldest is fifteen." She shook her head. "We've been calling them kids, but they think they're practically adults already."

  "Sometimes kids have to grow up fast," Damon said.

  He and Jessie went quiet, contemplative.

  I thought back to what Damon had said at our first meeting. Mental health. Addiction. Neglect, abuse, exploitation, violence…

  My heart ached for these kids.

  "I actually asked you guys both here for that reason." Jessie said after a moment. "The group get together after school on Thursdays. They're already practicing if you want to check them out."

  Damon and I followed Faith to the music room. It was sound-proofed well enough that I didn't hear anything until we pushed through a set of double doors into a different hallway. The crash of symbols reverberated in my ears, and the heavy beat of a bass thrummed in my chest.

  Jessie opened the door a crack.

  "Sorry to interrupt, guys!" she called over the noise. The music halted abruptly. "I've got some visitors for you."

  Jessie waved us in to the room. There were a handful of teenagers with various instruments in their hands, looking for all the world like a real rock band, aside from their youthful faces.

  "Holy shit," one of the boys exclaimed. His arms went limp, the guitar hanging off his shoulder, only kept up by its strap. "You're Damon Drake!"

  "Zain, watch your language," Jessie chided gently.

  "But it's the guy from Darkest Days!" the boy next to him with a bass guitar pressed on. "The twin one!"

  "He's the cute one!" the girl behind the drums piped up. She was smaller than the others, almost tiny. This had to be Kaylee, the youngest. "Anya, aren't you always saying him and his brother are the cute ones?"

  "Shut. Up." A girl with a microphone in her hand, Anya presumably, flushed bright red and ducked her head, hiding behind her long black hair.<
br />
  Kaylee took in a big breath and opened her mouth, looking obstinate.

  "Guys, I wanted to introduce you to Damon and his friend Faith," Jessie interrupted before they could start bickering.

  "Are you here to scout us?" One of the older looking and tallest boy with thick rimmed black glasses tilted his head at Damon, questioning. He seemed to be the most level headed one, not reacting the way the others had.

  "Sorry, kid, I'm not looking to sign any bands." Damon walked further into the room, examining each of them with a grin. As his eyes fell on each, they returned his grin, aside from Anya who refused to look up. "My friend Morris told me about you guys. He sounded pretty impressed with the lot of you."

  "These two would like to listen to you guys play a bit," Jessie explained.

  "No pressure," Damon added. "Can you guys just show me what you got?"

  I frowned at Damon, wondering why he hadn't told them why he was really here — that he was thinking of getting them to open for his concert.

  Their mouths all dropped open, eyes wide as they stared at each other. Damon saw me staring and shook his head subtly.

  I understood now. If the kids thought they were being judged for real, if they thought they might have a chance at playing a real concert, they might have gotten more nervous than they already were and made mistakes.

  Not to mention, if the kids really did suck, it would be a blow to their egos to have Damon go on to tell them thanks but no thanks.

  "You want to hear a cover, or one of our originals?" the boy with glasses asked. He seemed to have taken the lead, as the others had been shocked speechless.

  "You've gotten that far?" Jessie asked, surprised.

  He nodded. "We're better at covers, but we've been working on some original songs for the last few months."

  "Let's hear it," Damon said.

  I wasn't sure what to expect. They were just kids, after all. But if the drummer of Feral Silence had told Damon about them, then at the very least they couldn't be awful.

  Anya gripped her microphone tight in both hands and nodded to the drummer, who nodded back. Kaylee hit her sticks in a one-two-three beat and they started to play.

  I thought it was pretty good, if my opinion counted for anything. I didn't know much about rock music, but it was catchy enough and didn't make my ears bleed. At the very least, the kids could play their instruments and the singer could hit all the right notes.

  When they finished, Damon whistled out loud.

  "Damn guys," he said appreciatively. "Morris wasn't lying. You kids have got some talent."

  "We're not kids," the guitarist, Zain, insisted stubbornly. "I'm almost sixteen."

  All three adults in the room shared a knowing smile.

  "How many original songs have you guys got?" Damon asked.

  "Only two," the bassist said, shamefaced.

  "Two's enough," Damon said, nodding.

  "Enough for what?" Anya asked, finally looking at Damon. He winked at her. She immediately ducked her head again.

  "How would you guys like to open for my band one night?" he asked.

  If the kids had been shocked speechless before, it was nothing compared to the stunned silence that followed his question.

  "Damon and Faith are holding a fundraising event," Jessie explained. "They're putting on a mini concert with some of their friends in other bands. We thought it might be fun if you played a song or two. You'd also get to party in a rock star tour bus for the night."

  "Are you serious…?" The even-tempered keyboardist was no longer so even tempered. He sounded close to tears.

  "Sure am," Damon said.

  Chaos. That was the only way to describe their reaction. The drummer shrieked and threw her drumsticks in the air as she jumped up and down. Anya tried to sink down into a nearby chair, looking faint, and missed, both her and the chair crashing to the ground. The two guitarists were shouting and cheering at each other, swinging their guitars around.

  "Kaylee, calm down," Jessie admonished, rushing to stop the drummer from knocking over the drum set in her exuberance.

  The tall boy stayed in front of his keyboard, eyes wide and unfocused behind his glasses, all color bleeding out of his face.

  "Hey bud," Damon said, approaching him. "You okay?"

  The kid nodded shakily. "Yeah. This is just… Wow. Opening for you guys… I don't know if—" he shook his head.

  "Overwhelming, right?" Damon put a hand on the kid's shoulder. "What's your name?"

  "Micah," the kid said quietly.

  "Listen, Micah. I felt the same way when I got my first gig. You're thinking it's too soon and you're not ready. Right?"

  Micah looked at Damon in surprise. "Yeah."

  "Let me tell you a secret." Damon leaned down and pretended to whisper. "You're never going to feel ready."

  Micah looked at him, incredulous.

  "Seriously," Damon continued. "Every time I go on stage I think to myself, what am I doing up here? I'm just some asshole screwing around with a guitar, you know?" Damon paused. "Shit, I shouldn't be swearing in front of you, should I?"

  Micah laughed, color returning to his face.

  Damon clapped the kid on the back. "No matter how long you've been playing, no matter how many fans are screaming your name, you're always going to feel like the same dumb kid messing around in his garage with his friends."

  "You think someday I'll have fans screaming my name?" Micah asked, almost shyly.

  "You keep playing like that, and you'll have more fans than me one day."

  Damon ruffled the kid's hair, looking both amused and proud at the same time, almost fond. It was such a tenderhearted expression.

  The softness in Damon's eyes made something inside me crack and break open. My heart felt like it was expanding in my chest, pressing against my ribcage. The scene in front of me was so sweet. I knew Damon had a soft spot for kids, but the way he reassured Micah was so—

  "I've… got to go," I said. I slowly walked backwards toward the door.

  Damon looked at me with concern. "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Fine. Great." I avoided his eyes. "I just have a lot of stuff to do, you know, the event and all," I said. "Gotta get back to the office, make sure things are going smoothly."

  "Faith." Damon came to stand in front of me. He reached for one of my hands. I quickly pulled back. The hurt on his face made that crack inside me shatter.

  But I couldn't stay. My heart was pounding and my mind was racing.

  Seeing Damon admit to his own weaknesses and insecurities, seeing him put aside that confident, cocky facade for a moment to help a young boy feel better…

  That was the moment I fell in love with Damon Drake.

  And it scared me the hell out of me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I stood in the doorway, seconds away from fleeing. I didn't know why I hesitated. Maybe it was the distressed look on Damon's face, his mouth twisted with concern. Maybe it was my own pounding heart, torn between wanting to get the hell out and wanting to sooth that wounded look.

  I'd just had the revelation of a lifetime. I wanted to process my feelings in peace. I wanted to throw myself into Damon's arms and never let go.

  My fingers went cold. My breathing sped up, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  Damon's concerned look deepened into worry. He looked back to the others.

  "Jessie, can you take it from here?" he asked.

  She nodded and went back to corralling the kids, not noticing anything different between the two of us.

  But everything was different now.

  Damon took my arm gently. I couldn't make myself pull away.

  "Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked.

  I examined him. I wanted to get away. I wanted space to think.

  But I'd had space over the last few days and I hadn't decided on anything. Maybe I didn't need space.

  Maybe all I needed was Damon.

  I nodded shakily.

  "Okay. L
et's go talk."

  I followed him silently out of the Youth Center and into his car. I slid into the passenger seat before he could dart over and open the door for me.

  I did my usual deep-inhale-and-sniff routine, taking in the raw, leather scent. Damon swung one leg into the car just as I let out a deep breath. He eyed me, but didn't say anything.

  We were silent for long minutes as we drove. Damon kept flicking his eyes between me and the road.

  "Where are we going?" I finally asked.

  "Nowhere," he replied. "I just want some privacy."

  "I suppose we can't really talk in a crowded coffee shop," I murmured, looking out the window.

  "Am I right in thinking you got freaked out and were ready to run?" he asked.

  I opened my mouth to deny, then thought better of it. "I wasn't planning on running. I just…"

  "Needed some space?" he guessed.

  "Kind of."

  "Can I ask what happened?" he said after a moments hesitation. "Everything seemed to be going fine."

  Oh nothing, I thought to myself. I just realized I've fallen in love with a womanizing rock star who never takes anything seriously and wouldn't know a real relationship if he were hit over the head with one. Nothing to worry about.

  I fiddled with my phone in my hand. A phone that contained dozens of dirty text messages, all from Damon.

  "Whenever you get upset it's usually because I've done something to piss you off," he continued. "And I'm trying, but I really can't think of anything I've done wrong today."

  "It's nothing you did wrong," I said.

  "Are you still worried about—" He ran one hand through his hair, tugging at the strands on the back of his neck with a sigh.

  "I'm not still thinking about your and your dad, if that's what you're worried about," I said.

  "I feel like I really fucked up," he said quietly.

  "You didn't."

  "I'm not some kind of violent, aggressive monster."

  "I know," I reassured.

  "Then what is it?" he asked, frustrated. "I'm trying to give you the space you said you needed, but I can't help thinking that I might have ruined things forever. And I want to fix that."