Fade Into You (Shaken Dirty 3)

“Of course you are, I know that. Which is why we’re not actually going to give them twenty-four-seven access. We’re just going to give your fans the illusion of that access.”

“Wait. You want us to lie to them? Pretend to be something we’re not?” Suddenly, he felt even more uncomfortable. He’d spent too much of the last few years lying—about the drugs, about his feelings, about the past. The last thing he wanted was to get out of rehab and just add to the pile of lies. Not when everything his counselors had preached to him had been about being honest with himself and his world. And since telling the world about his past was out of the question—he wasn’t going there, ever—he’d kind of counted on being able to be honest about everything else.

“No! That’s the last thing I want! If you aren’t honest with the fans, they’ll know—with social media and Google the way they are today, it’s really easy for the fans to catch you in a lie. And if we’re going to rebuild Shaken Dirty’s brand, we definitely don’t want that.”

“Well, then, I’m confused,” Jared said, kicking his feet onto the empty chair next to him. “What exactly do you want from us?”

Poppy leaned forward, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked from one member of Shaken Dirty to another. When it was his turn—when her gaze met his—Wyatt felt himself falling into them, falling into her, despite his best intentions not to. But her eyes were big and brown, with little gold flecks, and he could feel the warmth of them.

What the hell was the matter with him? he wondered furiously. And what kind of power did she have over him that he found himself thinking about fucking her—about sliding his cock between those lush pink lips of hers—when what he should be thinking about was what was best for Shaken Dirty?

As she started talking, he forced himself to focus on her words and not the many, many things he wanted to do to her.

“Your fans are digging for stuff about you right now. They’re reblogging every picture, every tweet, every piece of you they can get their hands on, analyzing everything you’ve ever done, coming up with conspiracy theories about Micah and Wyatt and everything else under the sun.

“So, what we want to do is control the narrative. Give them other stuff to talk about besides Wyatt’s addiction and Micah’s douchebag behavior.”

“I’m okay with them talking about Micah being a douchebag as long as they want to,” Jared interjected drily.

“I bet.” She shot him a sympathetic smile. “But the longer they’re focusing on that, the harder it will be to get them to focus on what’s really important. Which is buying your music and getting tickets for the upcoming tour.”

“So, the money, in other words,” Wyatt said.

She laughed. “I’m from the label. So, yes, the money is very important. But to me, the music—and your legacy—is just as important. I want to do everything I can to help you on both fronts.”

Wyatt didn’t know whether to believe her—she was from the label, after all. But at the same time, she looked so determined, so sincere, that it was hard not to buy what she was selling. A glance at his friends told him they pretty much felt the same way. Which meant, like it or not, she was going to be underfoot for the next little while.

He decided to focus on the positive. Sure, her being with the label might be awkward after what they’d gotten up to the night before. But the damage had already been done, so he didn’t see why it couldn’t happen again. And again. In fact, the longer Poppy stuck around, the better his chances were of getting his mouth on her again…

Suddenly, embracing social media didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Chapter Seven

She’d never felt so guilty in her life.

Poppy told herself she was just doing her job, told herself that—to make it up to them—she was going to do everything with their social media that she’d promised. Told herself, even, that by babysitting Wyatt she was actually helping him and Shaken Dirty.

But no matter how true all that was, it didn’t matter. She still felt guilty as hell.

Especially since the guys were all working so hard to let her in, to do what she asked and give her the access she needed.

It had been two days since she’d shown up at Quinn’s house with cupcakes and an agenda a mile long. In that time, she’d sat in on band rehearsals and song writing sessions, had gone out to the Sixth Street clubs with them, had even been allowed to hire a couple of paps to shadow Ryder and Jamison when they’d visited three bakeries yesterday to pick out their wedding cake.

She’d started an official Shaken Dirty Tumblr blog and filled it with behind-the-scenes pictures of the guys working in Quinn’s music room and recording studio. She’d published numerous Vines and Snaps of them singing and joking around with one another. She’d even tweeted lyrics from a couple of the songs they were working on. And still they hadn’t complained once.

They’d watched her warily at times, had even been a bit hesitant about letting her record the Snaps of their songwriting sessions, but in the end they’d done everything she’d asked of them. Hell, they’d even invited her to hang out with them during non-working hours, since they knew she didn’t know anyone in town—like they were getting to be friends. And the whole time she was lying straight to their faces about her real reason for being here¸ and about how deep her connection to the label really ran.

She hated it.

Just like she hated having to keep an eye on Wyatt, hated poking around about his intentions when he ran out to the store or to pick up lunch for the guys, or coming up with excuses to watch him when he ducked outside for a smoke.

So far she’d seen no evidence that he was using or drinking and that only made things worse. The longer he went without even trying to score drugs, the more traitorous she felt. Like she was here, lying to him and the others, for no reason at all.

But staying clean three days out of rehab wasn’t staying clean for good, and if she didn’t do her job—if she didn’t do her best to keep him out of trouble—and he relapsed? She knew her father would lose his shit completely. Then Micah wouldn’t be the only member of Shaken Dirty being replaced…

She was stuck between a rock and a hard place with nothing to do but suck in her stomach and pray like hell they didn’t all get crushed. It wasn’t comfortable, it didn’t feel good, but right now it was all she could do.

And even though they didn’t know—even though she hoped they’d never know—she was determined to make up for her duplicity. Determined to give Shaken Dirty the best social media game in the business, and to help the band out as much as she could at the label, even if it meant standing up to her father about what was best for them.