“We’re going to call it,” Lyrik said offhandedly to the rest of the guys, not waiting around for goodbyes.
He began to lead me back through the crowd. Just before ducking out of the room, Lyrik froze when a middle-aged guy stepped into his path.
He was bald and grinning and so obviously not welcome.
“Eric Banik…” Lyrik seemed to process his presence, before his jaw went rigid. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? This isn’t the time or place for your games.”
Eric Banik.
A thread of unease spun through me.
That was the name that had sent Lyrik into a tailspin the night he’d gotten into that fight with Ash. The night Lyrik had lost some of his control. When he’d used me like he’d needed me and not the other way around.
Eric grinned. “Just thought I’d drop by and see if you’d thought any more about my offer.”
“Told you a thousand times and not a thing has changed. But if you need a reminder, then fine—” Lyrik edged in closer to him. “Fuck off.”
A cold unlike anything I’d ever felt from Lyrik chilled the room. His dark eyes had gone black when he glanced behind him to the guys still talking by the bar.
“Now if I were you, I’d turn around and not ever come back. Pretty sure I gave you a warmer reception than the rest of my crew is going to give.”
He laughed as if Lyrik didn’t faze him. Not in the least. “Baz’s wife sure is pretty, isn’t she?”
In a flash, Lyrik had Eric Banik’s shirt in his fist, lifting him from the ground. “I’m warning you…turn around and walk out the fucking door. Don’t come back. This is me asking nicely. And I’m about five seconds from not feeling so friendly. You got me?”
Hands lifted in a placating gesture, Eric backed down. “Fine. Just know the offer’s not going to stand forever.”
“Real broken up about it,” Lyrik mumbled as he pushed around him, and I struggled to keep up as he dragged me out the entry and back down the dingy hall. Anger radiated from him.
And I didn’t quite get it. Why an offer would make him so upset. Sure, the guy was obviously a dick. But it wasn’t as if he had to accept it.
I was almost surprised Lyrik didn’t punch the poor scrawny kid who suddenly stepped out in front of him at the end of the hall. Like a target directly in Lyrik’s warpath.
“Lyrik West. Would it be okay if I asked you a couple questions?”
Lyrik just grumbled something about assholes beneath his breath, and I gave his hand a small tug. This guy seemed so much better than the paparazzi that had descended on us when we’d stepped from the Escalade when we first pulled up to the theater this afternoon, a swarm of them firing question after question. All of which had been ignored.
“It’s fine,” I encouraged him, and Lyrik sighed, raked a hand through his unruly hair, agitation still vibrating through his bones.
“Make it fast.”
The guy gave a timid, but grateful smile as he scrambled to pull out one of those old-fashioned notepads. “Thanks so much for answering my questions. Umm…”
Nervously, he scratched the side of his head. “We know the next Sunder album is slated for release this winter. Word is, Sebastian Stone’s new wife, Shea Stone, aka Delaney Rhoads, will be a part of that album. Can you confirm or deny?”
“No secret they’ve written some music together.”
“Um…okay…and will she be joining Sunder on tour?”
Lyrik huffed. “Doubtful. She’s got a family. And the road and family don’t exactly mix.”
His tone was bitter. I stood at his side, trying to make sense of where all the hostility was coming from, all the while trying to tamp down the frisson of panic that threatened when the reporter’s attention kept flicking toward me.
Brows drawn, he inclined his head, assessing. “You look really familiar.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’d been too wrapped up in Lyrik’s proposal that I’d never even considered someone might recognize me.
Slowly I shook my head and took a step back. That disquiet I’d felt in front of Eric Banik doubled. But I hadn’t perfected my mask for nothing. I forced a brilliant smile, all sex and distraction, pushed out an easy laugh. “Nope…I’m nobody. I’m sure you’ve never seen me before.”
He gave a slow nod and turned back to Lyrik. “We’ve also heard the next album will showcase a few more songs in the style of Sunday Gone, your voice as the lead. Is that any indication that Sebastian Stone may be taking a step back from the band?”
Lyrik seemed to itch, antsy on his feet. “Band’s in a transition period right now. Don’t have all the answers. But I can assure you we’ll be making music together. Nothing is gonna change that.”
He scribbled something on his notepad, but I could feel the flicker of his eyes as they peeked at me from the side. The curiosity that wouldn’t let him go. The awareness.
Almost in frustration, he turned his full attention on me. “Are you sure I don’t know you?”
Shaking my head again, I took another step back, slinking behind Lyrik, hating the way I wished his shadows would swallow me up and take me to a place where I could disappear.
Hide.