No Chance Read online

  And then this beautiful woman and this kid who’s always smiling even though he lost everything dropped into my life from out of nowhere, and the two of them upended everything I’ve ever known.

  Those voids aren’t there anymore when the two of them are around.

  As we walk from the polar bears toward the Tropical Discovery, the urge to grab her hand and hold it in mine overwhelms me.

  I fight it.

  As she ducks close to the glass to get a good look at some iguana, the urge to brush a stray hair off her cheek washes over me.

  I fight it.

  As she bends down to look at a tarantula in the bottom enclosure, the urge to touch her—to smack the ass that’s sticking up in the air, or to move in behind her and bump my hips gently to hers, or to simply cradle her hip—crushes into me.

  And still...I fight it.

  Because today’s not about giving into whatever’s building between us. As much as I’m starting to want it—as much as I can’t really deny any longer that I want her, not after what I witnessed last night, I have to think about her.

  We’re only on the third stop of this tour, for one thing.

  She hasn’t shown a shred of interest, not really, but she’s also not in a place to just hop into bed with me. She technically works for me, and this entire life is all brand new to her. The last thing we need is a quick fuck followed by an awkward three months on tour if it doesn’t work out.

  And yet...today feels like a date.

  It feels like we’re building something.

  I haven’t even told her the news from our band meeting yet. But when I spotted her tear-stained cheeks on the balcony afterward, I couldn’t just pretend like everything was normal. It was time for a change of scenery, and the first thing that came to mind was the zoo. I don’t know why. For the kid?

  But now that we’re here, and everybody is smiling...I realize I needed it, too.

  I glance at my watch after we’ve viewed the seals, some horses, and camels, and we’re standing in front of some weird thing that looks like a mix between a zebra and a donkey. “Shit,” I murmur.

  Hannah turns toward me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to get back,” I say with reluctance. I glance at the sign by the exhibit. Okapi. My guess would’ve been more along the lines of zonkey. “We, uh, have soundcheck in an hour.”

  She nods. “Let’s go.”

  “You two can stay if you want,” I say. “I’ll arrange a ride back to the hotel and maybe you can come to the show tonight.”

  “I should stay with Chance,” she hedges.

  I shake my head as a smile curls my lips. “We need you there, you know, as our official band photographer.”

  Her jaw slackens. “As what?”

  “I showed off your pictures this morning and everyone was beyond impressed. We want you to photograph us at our gigs, at private events, practice, meetings...everything. Amanda is happy to keep an eye on Chance while you work, Dustin has a camera you can use, and Karl’s working up a contract now. You know, if you’re interested.”

  Her slackened jaw falls all the way open, and the shock on her face is absolutely fucking priceless. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Dead serious,” I say, holding up my hand like scout’s honor.

  She tosses her arms around my neck. The feel of her breasts pushed up against my chest mixed with her coconut-scented hair tickling my chin is nearly enough to break the fight I’ve put up all day. I wrap my arms around her small body, and we cling to one another for a few beats. Then she pushes up onto her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

  My stomach clenches and my chest tightens.

  “Thank you,” she whispers against my skin, the heat there unbearable as my dick hardens at her proximity.

  Images swirl in my mind’s eye. Her face twisting, her body hidden beneath a sea of bubbles, her lips parting as a little moan escaped her.

  She finds her balance again and I’m forced to let her go. “Don’t thank me,” I mutter. “You’re the one with the talent.”

  She lets out one of those addictive laughs at that. “That you only got to see because of your talent,” she amends modestly.

  And it’s as we walk away from the okapi exhibit when I can’t fight it any longer. I reach over and grab her hand, and her fingers twist with mine as we walk toward the exit.

  CHAPTER 25: HANNAH

  Once we’re back at the hotel, Brett leads Chance and me toward Dustin and Amanda’s room.

  Dustin shows me his camera, and it’s a much nicer and newer model than mine—but it works in pretty much the same way. “Why don’t you come to soundcheck and practice?” he suggests, and Brett thinks that’s a great idea.

  “I’m happy to take care of Chance,” Amanda says.

  “Isn’t it a lot for one person?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’ve always loved working with kids. In fact, I used to work at a daycare. Some people make music,” she says, gesturing to Dustin, “and some people entertain children.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.

  “I’m sure.” She grins. “Don’t give it a second thought, really. Go have fun and take some killer pics. Danielle’s dropping Luna by any minute. We’ve got Sesame Street queued up on the television, we have a whole suitcase full of toys and books, and we are set with snacks and meals. I’ve got this.”

  “Okay.” And then, because I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, I rush toward her and give her a hug. These people are doing everything they can to give me opportunities that didn’t even exist a few days ago. They’re banding together not just to make me feel welcome, but to open doors for me. Working as the official band photographer for a phenomenon as big as Capital Kingsmen has the potential to open a lot of doors for me in something that has only ever been a hobby to me.

  But drumming was only just a hobby for Brett at one time. That’s kind of the dream...isn’t it? To be able to do what you love and work within your passions as your career.

  A huge luxury SUV waits for us at a back entrance, and the four band members plus Karl, Danielle, and myself pile in. We’re ushered to the Pepsi Center where Capital Kingsmen is scheduled to play tonight. We’re taken through a maze of hallways and we end up at the band’s dressing room, where we have a few minutes to relax as the band goes over some last-minute details.

  Then someone who works at the venue leads us toward the stage. Karl shows me the trench, and I find some stairs to get down in there.

  I snap some photos. I’m not even sure how good my photos will be from down here. It’s almost too close to the stage, at least to get the three guys who are standing toward the front of the stage, but I’m able to snap some great shots of Brett in the back.

  I move out to the floor and take a few more. I like the angle here much better. It’s wider and gives me more space to get multiple members of the band in, but there will be people out here tonight that will prevent me from standing right here.

  And then, a few short hours later, it’s showtime.

  I’m nervous as Karl leads me back down to the trench. It was different when it was just me down there. Now there’s security, and I’m wearing a lanyard with access cards attached to it, and there are screaming fans behind me who would give anything to take my place.

  The band hasn’t taken the stage yet, and I’m getting the kind of angle the fans in the back of this pit are dreaming of. I’m closer to the stage than the most rabid fans, and a few days ago I was a loud and proud hater of this band.

  Just like everything in my life...all that’s changing.

  The houselights are still on, so the crowd waits anxiously for the band they came to see tonight to take the stage. I turn around to get a look at the audience, and then I stand on my tiptoes and reach my camera way up high to snap a photo of them. The place is filled. It’s a sea of faces in front of me and all around the sides of the arena, all the way up to the very top row.

  It’s incredible.

  A
rush of fear lances through me. Brett assured me there was nothing to worry about, but it’s still terrifying to stand in that space between the crowd and the stage with only some barricades separating us. What if they push the barricades and crush me? What if they throw stuff and it hits me? There’s a lot of what-ifs here but as my sister used to say, ifs and buts just make you nuts.

  “You okay here?” Karl asks, and he says the words quickly like he needs to drop me off so he can move onto his next task.

  I nod even though it’s not the whole truth, and he saunters off. I focus on the drums for a few beats as I draw in a calming breath. I think about Komodo dragons and panda bears and his hand sliding into mine. My stomach clenches as I remember that moment, and a little sigh escapes me.

  I’m starting to like him. Not just that outer package of abs and hotness, but what’s on the inside. I get the sense that he’s stepping out of his comfort zone in order to do what he thinks is right, and he’s slowly opening up to me.

  I’m sure he only sees me as a friend, or something beneath that title even, but I can’t help that just the sight of his drums calms me. I can’t help that my heart squeezes every time I think about how he just dropped everything to take us to the zoo today. I can’t help that an ache presses between my legs when I think about his wide eyes as he watched me in the tub, and I can’t help the little ripples in my tummy when I think about his fingers sliding through mine.

  The house lights fade to black, a telltale sign that the band is taking the stage any moment. Screams erupt from the crowd as the anticipation builds, and I feel the excitement in my chest. As silly as it sounds, I feel the anticipation of seeing Brett again. We live together in a three hundred square foot space. We share hotel rooms and beds except when he’s sleeping on the couch. We’re as physically close as two people can be for the majority of our days, and yet I’m still excited to see him up there in his element.

  Have I...missed him since we parted not so long ago? We’ve been together for much of the day today, and yet I find myself waiting for the first burst of light so my eyes can refocus on his face.

  And when it happens, it’s pure magic.

  He slams his sticks against his drums to open the first song, and I feel the bass in my chest. Once he hits his rhythm about five seconds into the song, his eyes seem to seek something out as they fall down to the front of the stage.

  His meet mine, and a little smile curls his lips. It’s then that I remember I’m supposed to be capturing this moment on the camera.

  In a split second, I bring the viewfinder up to my eye and focus on Brett. I zoom in, and I catch that little curl of his lip as I click the shutter. I don’t bother to check my work now. There will be time later to go over the details of every photo, and I already know that one will be saved to my very own personal collection.

  Because as much as I never would have believed it, that sexy little smile gracing his lips was for me.

  CHAPTER 26: HANNAH

  “Tell her about the time you walked onto Ethan Fuller’s bus,” Tyler says.

  Danielle laughs. She must know this story.

  Brett twists his lips with a touch of chagrin. “Do I have to?” he asks.

  The four of us are at the afterparty, but it’s after the afterparty. The guys put in their time and now we’re sitting at a table in the back room drinking the bar’s liquor. Dustin already went back to the hotel, and Tommy found his prey for the evening, but Brett and Tyler weren’t quite ready to call it quits.

  They talked me into a vodka sprite. They said it’s a nice, easy drink for someone who’s never had a hangover, and Danielle couldn’t believe I’ve never had a hangover. Something about how clear liquor doesn’t hit as hard as the darker stuff.

  I’ve been tipsy before, but never so drunk that I woke up the next morning feeling sick. But just half of one vodka drink so far and I’m already feeling the effects. It’s quite calming, and I don’t feel sick. That’s probably the signal that I should stop drinking. The only way to go from here is down.

  Brett sighs then begins his tale. “On the tour when we opened for Vail, Tommy and I were pretty high after a show one night, and I went back to our bus to get more beer.”

  “Wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “You were high and drunk?”

  He lifts a shoulder. “Yeah. Part of the lifestyle.”

  “Uh, I beg to differ,” Danielle says.

  Brett gives her a look but doesn’t respond to that. “Anyway, I walked on the bus and opened the refrigerator and couldn’t find the beer. I heard some noise coming from the bunk section so I went in there and it wasn’t the bunks, it was a bedroom. And there was Ethan Fuller, the drummer of Vail who I’ve basically modeled my entire career after, banging into his wife doggy style. I was so fucked up that I just stood there watching until they saw me.” That part elicits raucous laughter from Tyler and Danielle. “When they finally did, Ethan started yelling at me to get the fuck out. And that’s the story of how I made an enemy of my idol.”

  I can’t help a giggle. “How long ago was that?”

  Brett shrugs. “A few years. He tolerates me now. By the end of the tour, he was talking to me again. But he was pretty pissed that I just stood there watching. I blamed it on bad weed and he seemed to get it.”

  “Do you still smoke a lot of weed?” I ask, my brows crinkling.

  “Is it a problem if I do?” he retorts.

  Danielle and Tyler exchange a glance and I don’t know what to say. It’s not a problem, I guess. It’s just not part of my lifestyle.

  Before I get a chance to answer, he amends his response. “Not as often since you and the kid have been traveling with us.”

  Even Tyler looks surprised by that. “I told you kids would change you.”

  Brett shrugs. “Just trying to do the right thing and adjust to this new normal.”

  I’m not sure why, but the new normal line throws me for a bit of a loop. It could be the vodka, but I swear I sense a bit of regret in his tone, and that makes me feel uncomfortable.

  I’m not really sure why, though. Of course it’s a new normal for him. It is for me, too. But it’s also a reminder that this is a temporary normal, and it’s really the first time I’ve thought about what might be next for Chance and me once this tour is over.

  I’ll be going back to Phoenix, more than likely. Brett paid out the remainder of my lease, so it only makes sense. But will Chance be with me? Will Brett?

  Or will I be going home alone?

  I stop drinking at that point as a little bit of grim darkness washes over me. I’ve taken myself out of the moment where I was having fun with friends as reality plowed back into me.

  I think Brett senses my mood change, and he takes me back to the hotel. I feel bad because I don’t think he was ready to call it a night, but he did it for me. He’s making sacrifices that I’m pretty sure he’s never had to make before.

  We stop by Dustin and Amanda’s room to pick up a sleeping Chance. We carry him to our room carefully, and I lay him down in his crib.

  I move out toward the bathroom to get ready for bed, and Brett is standing there, blocking my way to the bathroom.

  “What happened back there?” he asks.

  I shrug as I turn my eyes toward the ground.

  “Hey,” he says softly, and he reaches out to brush the hair out of my face. My eyes meet his concerned ones, and a beat of quiet passes between us.

  He leans down and nuzzles my nose with his, and my stomach flip flops as I’m certain he’s going to kiss me.

  God, do I want him to kiss me.

  Instead, he straightens. “You can talk to me, you know.”

  I nod. “Thank you. I just got a little overwhelmed with everything.”

  He pulls me into him. His arms are warm and comforting, and I rest my head on his chest and breathe in his vanilla wood.

  “I know it’s a lot,” he murmurs, his voice soothing and low. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”


  “It’s not you,” I amend. “It’s not the story about walking onto Ethan’s bus. I was just...” I pull back out of his arms even though I don’t want to. “I was just having a good time, and I felt a little guilty about it. And then I started thinking about what happens when this tour is over.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge in a couple months. It’s nothing to stress over now.”

  That’s easy for the guy with the padded bank account to say. I don’t toss that retort at him, though. Instead, I just nod as if he’s right. “I should get ready for bed.” I turn to go into the bathroom, but he grabs my bicep to stop my progress.

  “Hannah?”

  I tilt my head curiously as I turn back toward him.

  “Don’t ever feel guilty for having a good time. Don’t ever feel guilty for living your life. She wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer, and punishing yourself doesn’t do anybody any good.”

  I press my lips together and nod, and then I let myself into the bathroom to let the tears freefall while I do everything in my power to truly buy into the words he just said to me.

  Brett doesn’t come to bed again, something I already knew as I tossed and turned through the night and is only confirmed when I wake in the morning alone in the big bed. I’m hangover free thanks to stopping at the three-quarter point of my vodka drink last night, and that strange feeling of abandonment is strong this morning after we had fun last night.

  I feel him backing away a little—and not just when it comes to sleeping arrangements. He didn’t attempt to grab my hand last night, and I thought maybe he’d try to kiss me. He didn’t.

  I’m puzzled by him. One minute he’s being sweet and holding my hand and looking at me like he wants to tear my clothes off, and the next he’s treating me like the employee he hired me to be.

  I’ve taken basic psychology classes as part of my prerequisites to that social work degree, and I’m certain there’s an underlying reason to his actions.