Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(16)

Jazz poured cranberry juice and vodka into a shaker over ice and did a little shimmy. Her wild violet and green sparkly dress moved over her bursting curves.

“Pregnant or not, Pix, you are a picture.” He leaned on the bar. “A damn sexy one.”

“Put it back in your pants, buddy.”

He looked down at his leathers. For the first time that day, all was well and under control. “Look at that, everyone’s behaving today.”

Jazz rolled her eyes but her lips were twitching. She poured the bright raspberry drink into the glasses and splashed lime into each before tucking little curls of lime rind along the lip. She found two umbrellas under the counter and speared one in each. “There.”

He leaned across the counter and made to kiss Jazz but she lifted the vodka bottle in front of him first. He laughed and kissed the bottle for the camera and sauntered off with a glass in each hand.

“Mz. Kimberly Forrester. It’s been awhile, sweetheart. I brought you libations.”

“Oh, Simon. You are not getting me drunk again.”

He slid into the booth and set hers down in front of her. “Are the cameras on?”

“Always.”

“I’ll behave then.” Simon grinned and lifted the glass to her. “A little.”

She clinked hers against it. “Congrats on the new album. I’ve heard the numbers are awesome.”

“Gotta love iTunes. We did that preorder party last week and had a bunch of fun.”

Kim turned her game face on. “Yes, you did. In fact, the whole album streamed and actually leaked out into the world. Did that kill sales?”

Simon relaxed back against the cool leather. “You know how it goes. People like to find stuff online and listen. I was a poor kid too, so I know how it goes. That’s why we kept the album cheap. Our label understands that getting it out there is more important.”

Kim being Kim, latched onto the poor kid sound bite. He knew these questions by rote. He gave charming stories about his childhood. Lies. Lies were so much easier to believe.

They didn’t want to know that his father beat him black and blue most nights. They wanted the Disney version. That he scraped and saved and got out. That music saved him.

At least that part was true.

Music had saved him. Nick and Snake had saved him. The scarred and broken cement parking lots on the fringes of Los Angeles that they’d escaped to with their skateboards and bottles of stolen beer.

And eventually the winding, graffiti-strewn benches of Ventura Boulevard and the beach saturated with people that loved street musicians had saved him. Playing until he was too drunk to care about going home saved him.

Singing saved him.

But she didn’t care about that.

No one cared about that but him. So he smiled and told colorful stories about the Blue Rhino and all the dive clubs they’d begged to play in. And when their twenty minutes was up, he had finished another drink—a purple one this time.

Warm with the alcohol and Kim’s easy flirting, he went still as Margo’s sad violin soared into the huge room. All eyes trained on the stage as Nick and Gray played on either side of her. The familiar strings of the opening from “Kashmir” surged the warmth into an epic heat.

His cock stirred immediately and he downed the last drops of the drink. “Looks like that’s my cue. Time to rehearse.”

“Thanks for sitting with us, Simon. It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.” She brushed a kiss against his cheek. The sensory memory kicked in. Her classy flowers-and-spice scent had followed them into a small closet at their Los Angeles apartment during the celebration of their first EP.

Funny how scent always struck the chords of memory that were so often softened with booze. But he remembered that night. And how Kim had wanted a hookup without sex.

She’d gotten off on the party and being seen. They both had. The beginning of his career. The first wrong turn that could have been the end of friendships he cherished more than he would ever say.

A little mutual groping that night. Hell, he hadn’t even let her touch him. She’d been too high on the night. He’d fed on that high and had fun with a pretty woman in the closet.

That had been more than enough after Margo had hulled him out and left him to crash and burn. That’s exactly what he needed to do tonight.

Have fun.

“I’ll see you after the rehearsals for the band interview.”

“Looking forward to it.” Her bluebell eyes sparkled.

Simon hauled himself out of the booth and crossed the room. Margo pulled her searingly purple violin away from her chin, her gaze warily following him as he climbed the stairs. “Violin Girl had a good idea with Zep, huh?”

Nick stuck his pick onto the sticky strip along his microphone stand. “Always like to get my Jimmy Page on.”

Gray grinned. “I know everyone and their mother knows this song, but damn, it’s good to play it on stage.”

“Yeah, you’d be surprised.” Simon rolled up his shirtsleeve to his elbow and shook out his bracelets. “This hot twenty-year-old outside had no idea who I was talking about.”

“Yeah, I heard you were stealing my video thunder out there, Super Slut,” Jazz yelled from behind her kit.

“What can I say? They all wanted a piece of me.” He moved to his mic stand. He always had two on the stage. One back by Jazz’s drums with a regular mic on it and his retro box microphone from their club days. When he was on stage, he needed it cupped in his hand. The age of it added a little distortion to his voice that was part of his sound at this point.