Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(3)
“Stop, stop, stop,” Killian called out for the umpteenth time, and aimed a glare my way that spoke volumes—volumes on how much he thought I sucked. “V, you totally missed your cue. What the hell is going on with you today? The concert last night make you deaf or something?”
I narrowed my eyes on Killian, who was waiting for some kind of explanation as to why I couldn’t seem to get my shit together today, but when nothing logical sprang to mind, I said, “How about you get off my ass?”
Killian walked over to me, his eyes blazing, an argument swirling in their depths even as he tried to bank it. “Maybe if you had someone on your ass you’d be in a better mood. Jesus, V. I can’t remember the last time you sounded so off.”
I could. It was right after Trent Knox had walked out on the band. My concentration had gone to shit for about three months after that. Actually, it hadn’t gone to shit—it had found its way down to the bottom of every bottle of whiskey I could get my hands on. And as I stood there facing off with Killian, I tried to pinpoint what exactly it was about my exchange with Halo in the kitchen that had me so…so…pissed the fuck off.
“Sorry I can’t always be perfect. Maybe you bunch of losers should start pulling your weight.”
Killian grabbed hold of my arm, his fingers digging in tight, as he turned me away from the rest of the band members. “Seriously, V? What’s going on with you?”
Aiming my eyes at the hand Killian had on me made him let go. “Nothin’,” I said, knowing that was a total lie. But considering I didn’t even know why I was so prickly, I couldn’t exactly explain it to Killian. Could I? “I’m just having an off day, and I don’t appreciate you getting all up on me about it.”
“I thought I’d been pretty good about keeping my mouth shut, considering this mood of yours has been lingering like a dark cloud from the second you stepped inside the studio this morning.”
After shoving my hand through my hair, I shook my head and reached for the strap of my guitar, pulling it up and over my head. “Well how about I do you all a favor, then, and leave. That way, you can all play with yourfuckingselves without me.”
I turned away from Killian to put my guitar in its case, and as I did, my eyes caught on Halo’s, which were locked on the two of us, a frown marring his forehead. I could see the concern in those light eyes of his, the confusion. But whatever. He was the one who’d decided to walk last night without bothering to say a word, so it wasn’t like I owed him any kind of explanation as to why I suddenly wanted to put my fist through a wall—even if he was the reason.
Tearing my eyes away from Halo, I slammed the case shut and straightened.
“Viper. Come on, man,” Jagger said from behind his keyboards. “Kill didn’t mean anything by it. We all have off days.”
Yeah, we did. But mine were few and far between, and Killian knew it. For me to play like utter shit—which I was man enough to admit I’d been doing today—something was usually off.
“Don’t care. I’m out,” I said as I headed toward the door, not bothering with any other kind of back-and-forth. I was ready to get out of that room, to get away from Killian and the rest of the guys. I wanted to track down a goddamn drink, and try to block out the way Halo’s face had looked when he’d lain naked under me and told me he could watch me fuck all night. I also wanted to forget how cool and collected he’d been this morning telling me how he was saving me from an awkward morning after, because as far as I was concerned, this was feeling pretty fucking awkward.
As I slammed out of the studio, I stormed down the hall in the direction of the stairs, my goal and intention crystal clear. I was about halfway up them when I heard my name, and there was no mistaking the voice that had called it. After hearing Halo shout it, curse it, and moan it in my ear the night before, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get the sound out of my head. But as I came to a stop, three stairs from the top, I shut my eyes and shoved those thoughts aside.
“Viper? Wait up, would you?”
I told myself I should just keep going, but my annoyance only increased when I ignored my stupid self and turned around to see Halo coming up the stairs after me. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a tight-fitting shirt that showed off all his lean muscles, and with his hair tied back off his face, I could see the light stubble lining his angular jaw. I had the insane urge to take the couple of steps down, grab hold of his shirt, and yank him in close enough that I could scrape my teeth along his jaw. But with the mood that was riding me, I knew I couldn’t temper whatever would happen after that, and since I didn’t know what was going through the angel’s head today, I kept my distance.
“What’s the problem, Halo?” I wasn’t sure when I’d consciously decided to revert to using Halo’s name instead of the nickname I’d used from day one. But the change wasn’t lost on him, judging by the sting of dismissal that flashed through his eyes.
“Um, I…” Halo blinked as his words trailed off, then he glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw we were still alone, he seemed to find that good enough to move up the stairs closer to me. “Are you okay?”
Deciding to play this his way, I slipped my hands into my pockets and eyed him for a beat. “I’m just peachy. You?”
Halo swallowed, his tongue coming out to worry his lower lip as he nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. You just seem—”