5. Kaye

CHAPTER 5

Kaye

I ’ve fucked groupies. A lot of them. For years, it’s been one of the best parts of the job. Cain and Lars aren’t into it. They go off and do their own thing. But Iggy, Marley, and I party. I always make sure it’s discreet, and I vet the girls. Don’t want some crazy popping up months later with a scandal. I even draw up contracts and insist everyone uses a condom.

But I throw all my careful planning and caution out the window as I witness Piper Hughes being eaten out by some blonde groupie. I do the only thing I can think of—kiss a random redhead and pretend to enjoy it.

I want to know who taught this woman to kiss. She’s forcing me to deep-throat her tongue. Doesn’t she know she won’t discover the mysteries of the world in my esophagus?

Why does Piper have to be so damn attractive? She shines brightly, forcing me to look at nothing and no one but her.

I hate every moment of kissing the tongue darter, but I ignore her sloppy kissing to wonder if Piper’s blonde groupie will ditch her to fuck a member of Gutless Void. A lot of these hangers-on are social climbers. Like this enthusiastic redhead who thinks I’m the gatekeeper for the guys from Gutless Void. I’m sure Marley and Iggy would have a go at either of them. The two men would be shiny notches on these groupies’ bedposts.

I twist my fingers in the redhead’s hair. It feels like fuckin’ straw. Is Piper’s hair still silky soft? It looks like it is. Piper could have been a hair model for designer shampoo brands in her teens. Women would sell their souls to possess raven hair like Piper’s. But her once-long locks are now cut short and look edgy and cool.

I tug the groupie’s hair and dislodge her grotesque tongue from my mouth. “How about you collect your friends, sweetheart, and I’ll introduce you to Gutless Void?”

The redhead’s eyes round, and her lips form an excited smile. “O-M-G. Will Blaze be there?”

I wouldn’t be shocked if she clapped her hands and jumped up and down in excitement.

Why do all the groupies want to fuck Cain? Gutless Void is the only band in the world where the drummer gets more action than the lead singer. Must be because Cain looks like a damn giant with a deep voice that could pass for the devil himself.

“He’s probably too busy, but Striker and Mayhem should be eager and willing to entertain you.” I’m pimping out two of my best friends for pussy. I’m no better than a man.

The redhead turns to her friends. “Who wants to come hang out with Gutless Void?”

Four women and one guy jump up, heading to the door. One of them was the blonde who was suffocating on Piper’s vagina a moment ago. The girl is so brazen that she doesn’t even wipe the wetness from her mouth. She wears it like a badge of honor as she strolls by me and heads out the door with the rest, leaving me alone with the four Lifeless Lies band members.

“Man, we need to get a road manager like this one,” a tall guy covered in tattoos says, nodding in my direction.

Piper smirks at me as she tugs up her pants, covering herself. “Nah, this one is way too uptight for us. Pantsuits and tight buns aren’t rock’n’roll.”

I avert my eyes from Piper’s piercing stare, rubbing my palms down my black wool pants to wipe away the nervous moisture. My deep connection with Piper still seems to hang in the air between us, even after all these years.

Piper Pain used to be Piper Hughes. She was the only human on the planet who sensed my feelings. She knew what I needed before I had an inkling myself. If it weren’t for Piper, I’d still be rummaging in the proverbial closet for the perfect costume to don for the day. Piper Hughes was the girl who lit a match and unleashed the dormant phoenix within me. Ten years later, she can still make me burn for her.

Piper stalks toward me—familiar strides of her shapely legs with a swagger that appears to be new. “Give us the room.”

Shiraz raises an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna kill the lady, are you?” The Lifeless Lies drummer asks as she grabs her canvas side bag and pink drumsticks.

Piper’s blazing blue eyes hold me frozen. They glow like an unforgiving flame that could burn me effortlessly. “Can you kill a ghost?”

“Well, I’m gonna get out of your hair,” Shiraz says as she pushes past me. “It’s nice to see you again, Kaye. You look good.”

Two attractive men covered in tattoos mumble incoherent words before following Shiraz out. They slam the door shut behind them, leaving me alone with Piper.

My mouth is dry, and I’m frozen in place. I shouldn’t be nervous.

The last time I saw her, she looked different. She had her long black hair in a French braid and she wore a feminine floral dress. I remember thinking that nothing about her appearance suited her, how fake and manufactured it was. Seems like things have changed because every article adorning her body today screams made for Piper Hughes .

Tight black denims with rips on the thighs and a mesh top covering a black bra. Her hair is much shorter, still long enough to tug but too short to be in a braid or ponytail. Her bare arms are now home to a plethora of wild, intricate tattoos covering every inch of exposed skin. When did she get them? What do they symbolize? Or did she get them simply to experience a tattoo gun?

“You look different,” I whisper, my voice so low that I’m unsure it reached her.

I hold my breath through the beats of silence, unsure if I want to run into her arms, hit her, or quit my job so I won’t have the daily torture of seeing her.

“Yes,” she says, closing the distance between us until the only thing I can focus on is her hot breath on my skin. Her fingers flirt with the lapel of my suit jacket, taunting me with her touch. “You look different too. But I became who I am while you’ve hidden your true nature from yourself.”

Piper’s words shouldn’t bother me, but they do. Their sharp sting punctures deep into my soul. I hate that after all these years, her cutting tongue can still lash me like the blade of a knife. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Piper’s lips turn up, making her dimples pop. God, I always loved those dimples.

She brings her hand to my face and traces her fingers from my eyebrow to the corner of my lips. “That’s a good question, Kaye. I’m Piper Pain, the lead singer of Lifeless Lies, the girl who clawed her way out of her repressive backwater town and built herself brick by brick. What happened to you, Kaye?” Piper waves her hands in front of me. “A fucking pantsuit? You’re always gonna be that girl so desperate to fit in that you’ll extinguish your own fire, won’t you?”