Treat Me (One Night with Sole Regret 8)

couldn’t force himself to be that for him. Not now. He was sure Owen was feeling lost without the ever-present Kellen at his side, but Shade had his own shit to deal with. Or not deal with. Whatever.

Shade tried sorting through his thoughts while he feigned sleep and Owen played some loud shooter game on a handheld device. No matter which rabbit hole he went down trying to figure out how Amanda’s feelings for him could do a one-eighty in less than an hour, he could only come to one conclusion: she’d finally figured out that he wasn’t good enough for her.

His conclusion was as depressing as it was infuriating.

So much for catching some much-needed sleep.

By the time the plane landed in New Orleans, he was ready to get back to the life he understood. The life he lived for. Life on the road.

It wasn’t hard to compartmentalize when his home life and his professional life were completely different. Here with his band he was Shade—badass egomaniac with the world at his feet. If not for Julie, he’d never leave this part of his life behind. This part of his life came easy. It made sense to him. If someone insulted him or tried to hurt him, he brushed it off. He was untouchable. Unreachable. He didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable with Amanda. Let himself be Jacob—the sensitive, weak idiot he resented now more than ever. From now on, Shade would let that guy out for Julie and only Julie, but he’d never allow another woman see the Jacob part of him again. Jacob got his heart broken too easily. Shade didn’t have time for heartache. Or for love.

“Adam has our room keys,” Owen said when they exited the limo. Shade had almost forgotten Owen was even there.

“Okay, cool,” Shade said. He tossed his bag over his shoulder and strode confidently into the hotel lobby.

Several women—and a couple of men—stopped what they were doing to gawk. He was used to people staring. He wore his confidence like a Kevlar vest. It had taken a few hits courtesy of one pretty schoolteacher from Austin, Texas, but he’d get over it. Hell, he was already over it. Over her. Fuck her. He didn’t need her. He was much better off without her.

Liar, a little voice whispered to him.

He and Owen were directed to Adam’s room by a gushing hotel clerk at the front desk. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t stop talking. It’s you, it’s really you. I saw Adam Taylor and Force Banner go through the lobby a couple of times this weekend. But Shade Silverton?” She fanned her flushed face with both hands.

“And Tags,” Owen said, shaking the dog tags around his neck at her.

She spared Owen a sideways glance before focusing on Shade again. “This is totally unprofessional of me, but could I get a picture with you?”

“Now?” Shade asked. “I’m in a hurry.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle when instead of going through the back and circling around the chest-high reception counter, the woman hiked up her uniform skirt and climbed over the top so as not to inconvenience him. Owen rescued her from falling flat on her face.

She thanked Owen briefly before plastering herself to Shade’s side and holding her smartphone in front of them. Shade put on his fan-friendly face and waited for her to snap several pictures. But she eventually handed the device to Owen because she couldn’t get a clear shot to come out.

“And one with you too,” she said to Owen. Apparently his dejected-puppy look had finally gotten through to her.

After she was satisfied with her photos and had forced Shade to give her an inappropriately long hug, which involved more than one hand on his ass, she allowed him to escape. Owen trudged after him.

“Always an afterthought when I’m with you,” Owen grumbled as they waited for the elevator.

“Can I help it that I’m cooler than you are?” Shade teased.

“Apparently you’re also hotter than I am.”

“Ah . . . well, hot gets you burned. And everyone actually likes lukewarm; lukewarm is comfortable.” Shade hadn’t meant it as an insult—Owen was easy to like—but the guy apparently took it the wrong way.

“Fuck you,” he said before pushing his way past Shade to get on the elevator.

“So how was your weekend?” Shade asked Owen as he followed. Though still sleep deprived, he was feeling slightly more personable now that he was back in his element. And he really did care about Owen’s problems. Somewhat.

“It sucked giant monkey balls,” he said.

“I saw giant monkey balls this weekend,” Shade said.

“Huh?”

He grinned at Owen’s flabbergasted expression. “Took Julie to the zoo.”

Owen smiled. He loved kids—especially Julie—and dogs, of course. “I bet she enjoyed that. Did you see Amanda?”

“Not really,” he lied. He didn’t want to talk about Amanda. Not now, not ever. Fuck her.

“That would explain why you’re so cranky.”

Adam answered their summons at his suite door with a dark expression and an even darker disposition. Shade hadn’t seen this side of Adam in over a year. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was using drugs again. Because that was what Adam did when his life turned to shit. He wrote deep, soulful metal music and got high out of his fucking mind.

“You okay?” Shade asked him.

“Never better,” Adam said flatly. He handed Owen a keycard and another to Shade. “Gabe’s woman took your spare key last night. So you might not want to barge in there without calling first.”

“Why are they in my room?”

“Like I give a fuck.” He closed the door in Shade’s face.

“What was that all about?” Shade asked Owen. And why the fuck would Gabe and Melanie be in his room? Maybe it had something to do with Nikki inviting herself along for their romantic weekend. Perhaps they’d needed a little privacy from the mistress of cling.

“No clue. Maybe he had a weekend that sucked giant monkey balls too.”

“Some monkeys have all the luck.”

Owen snorted and then laughed. “It’s good to be back.”

“You never did say why your weekend sucked,” Shade said as he fished his phone out of his pocket so he could call Gabe and alert him to his arrival. He tried not to let his heart sink when he found Amanda hadn’t called to tell him she’d made a terrible mistake, but the stupid organ was apparently still hung up on the woman. Apparently his heart was just as dumb as his brain was.

“Not all of it,” Owen said and slapped Shade on the back. “I’m gonna catch a nap. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

And before Shade could ask why Owen had missed out on sleep, the guy had opened his suite door and disappeared inside.

Gabe sounded mostly asleep himself when he answered Shade’s call. Shade could only think of one reason why Gabe would still be in bed with Melanie at noon.

“Can you vacate my room now?” Shade asked. “Adam said he gave my spare key to your girlfriend. Why are you guys in my room? Did you break another set of box springs?” At least someone was having a great morning.

“I’m not with her,” Gabe said flatly. “She’s in your room, and I’m in my room.”

“Oh,” Shade said, rubbing the side of his nose. “What’s going on?”

“Shit. Lots of fucked-up shit.”

That monkey with the giant pair must have the cleanest, most delighted pair of nuts ever conceived.

“Sounds like the morning I’m having.” Or rather, the life he was having.

They agreed to approach the suite together—safety in numbers—and a moment later Gabe entered the corridor from his suite. He’d never looked worse. Both eyes were bloodshot and encircled by dark bruises. His crimson mohawk was flat and drooping. Hell, even the dragons tattooed on his scalp looked weary.