Wheels of Fire

“I’m sorry.” His voice breaks and he pushes my hair out of my eyes. “I get nasty when I feel like I’m being rejected.”

I duck away from his touch. “I think you were being honest.”

“I’ve got no impulse control, Mallory. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to grab you and kiss the fuck out of you. Taste you…but I didn’t.” He stares at my lips for a few beats. Slowly, his eyes widen and he lifts his gaze. “Fuck, maybe I am in love with you.”

“I don’t think this is love.”

He shakes his head but not in a dismissive way. More like he’s considering all the reasons that support his crazy new theory. “It makes sense. I knew how pissed Chaser would be so I kept my mouth shut. I’ve never let friendship stop me before—”

“Maybe you’re in love with Chaser,” I suggest.

He gasps and staggers to the side, giving me room to wrap my hand around the doorknob but not enough to open the door. At least sweet escape seems closer.

Andrew still seems to be considering my off-the-cuff retort. “No. I can’t be gay. Or even bi. I love pussy way too much.”

I groan.

“Like right now, I’m wondering if your—”

“Don’t say it.”

He frowns. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I’m sure it will elevate this conversation to a new level of disgusting and awkward, so do us both a favor. Don’t.”

“No, I mean, everyone else is fair game. I don’t think Chaser would react well to a three-way though. And honestly, I’m not into the two dudes, one chick thing. If it’s a multiple person situation, I prefer three females and me.”

I blink rapidly, trying to follow his chaotic line of thought. “Andrew!” I snap. “It’s never happening. Please stop making this worse.”

“Promise you’ll be here Saturday for the shoot?”

“No way in hell.” I should have listened to my gut and never come over here today.

“Please? I need you. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I have the other models. And Cindy will be here. Strictly professional. I promise.”

“Why? You could call any agency, hell, you could walk into any club on any night and pick half a dozen pretty girls to wear your shirts.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t be you.” His softer pleading tone returns. “Please.”

“No, Andrew.”

“Please?” He puts his hands under his chin and pulls that sad puppy dog face that usually makes me laugh. The one I thought was an innocent prankster. Now I know better.

“I’ll consider it.” As in, nope!

He stares at me for so long and so hard, my heart thumps with the fear that he’ll try to kiss me again. His unfathomable dark eyes plead with me. There’s pain hidden somewhere in those depths. Pain that isn’t my problem or responsibility.

Finally, he slides his hand down the door and twists the knob, yanking it open.

“Ten a.m. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Afraid he’ll change his mind and try to cut off my escape again, I slip out the door instead of answering.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chaser

We don’t get a lot of calls at the studio. Mark seriously scowls at anything not music-related happening during studio hours.

We’re on a break, munching on sub sandwiches one of the assistants brought us when the phone rings. I’m closest, so I pick it up. “Yeah?”

“Chaser? Is that you?”

The smile fades from my face and I sit up. “Pamela?” Why the fuck is she calling here?

Jacob holds out his hand. “It’s for me.”

I jerk my shoulder away from him. “What’s going on? Is Mallory okay?”

Her sweet, soft southern belle voice vanishes, taking on a sharper edge. “Mallory’s perfectly fine. She’s slutting around with Andrew. Did you know that?”

“Excuse me?” My ice-filled voice stops Jacob’s grabby hand act and he backs away from the phone. “What are you talking about?”

“You know he’s been trying to fuck her all along, right?”

“What are you doing, Pamela?” I ask in a bored tone. Mallory would never cheat on me. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“Oh no? Then why’d he stop by the set the other night to take her for a ride on the back of his bike, hmmm?” she purrs.

An icy bucket of dread pours over me, choking off my air supply. Things were a little rocky between us when I left, but Mallory and I have spoken on the phone every single night. Everything’s fine between us. She would’ve told me if she’d gone out with Andrew. No, scratch that, I know Mallory. She wouldn’t go out with Andrew at all. She sure as fuck wouldn’t get on the back of his bike.

“Bullshit. I don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing, Pamela.” Yet, for some reason, I don’t hang up the phone.

“It’s true. He came to visit her on set. I can put you in touch with a dozen people who saw them together. And I heard her making plans to go over to his house tonight.”

No. No fucking way. Pamela’s always had some weird, petty jealousy thing going with Mallory. For fuck’s sake, she’s eyeballed me like a black widow spider stalking her next sperm donor too many times to count. I don’t trust a word out of her mouth.

“You’re full of shit, Pamela.” Part of me can’t stop wondering why Pamela’s doing this. Why today? Why now? She and Andrew broke up weeks ago. She should be over it.

“Okay,” she sings. “Don’t believe me.” Her voice lowers to a pouty, mocking tone. “Mallory’s such an, innocent, inexperienced little lamb. And you know what kind of guy Andrew is. Even if I’m wrong, do you really want them spending time alone together?”

I slam the phone down and stare at it, considering Pamela’s words. Innocent and inexperienced keep repeating over and over. Same words my father used.

It doesn’t mean anything.

“What’s going on? Why didn’t you let me talk to her?” Jacob whines.

“She called for me.” I push myself out of the chair and pace to the other side of the room.

Alvin frowns and sits up. “Everything okay, Chaser?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Let’s get back to work!” Mark claps his hands like the world’s most annoying kindergarten teacher as he enters the room. “Chaser. You give any more thought to that riff you were working on for ‘In Your Hands’?”

“What? No.”

He scowls at me and I scowl right back.

We get back to work but that phone call keeps playing in my head on an endless loop.

I don’t believe a word Pamela said.

Do I?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chaser

We managed to finish one more song this afternoon. I’m too distracted to enjoy it and don’t even want to celebrate with th

e guys.

“Innocent, inexperienced little lamb.” Pamela’s stupid words echoed in my head all afternoon.

I’m edgy, eager to get back to the house after we leave the studio.

“You’re not gonna grab dinner with us?” Alvin asks.

“Nah, I want to work on a few things and get to bed early.”

He glances over at Garrett and Jacob. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks in a lower voice. “You’ve been weird since Pamela called.” He cocks his head. “Why did she call you, anyway?”

“Who the fuck knows.”

“Look, she’s a nice girl. It was a real shitty thing Andrew did to her—”

“But?”

“She and Andrew have that whole dysfunctional, swirl of chaotic energy around them. Don’t let her suck you into their vortex of crazy.”

Wise advice.

“She’s been cozying up to Jacob for weeks,” he continues. “Calling you when you’re with Mallory. It’s not right.”

Should I confess what Pamela said? Let him tell me what I already know—that it’s garbage? No, because then I’d probably end up blabbing about my father’s warning after Mallory and I got engaged. I don’t want to say any of it out loud to anyone. It’s bullshit.

I force a laugh. “I’m going home to call Mallory right now, bro. Just didn’t feel like listening to everyone bust my balls for being pussy-whipped.”

He frowns. “When have you ever given a shit what anyone thinks of you?”

“Never.” I pat his shoulder. “Don’t stay out too late. I have a feeling Mark plans to push us hard tomorrow.”

There’s more he wants to say, his dissatisfaction with my answers is clear. But Garrett and Jacob start whining for him to hurry up. I use the distraction as my opportunity to escape.

Mallory and I usually wait until eleven—when long-distance rates are cheaper—for our nightly call. But there have been plenty of nights where one of us called earlier.

I dial the house and wait.

My voice on the answering machine greets me. “You’ve reached Chaser and Mallory—”

“Fuck.” I slam the phone down.

I prowl through the house, convincing myself everything’s fine. She works late on the set all the time.