Just For Now Read online

  Swallowing hard, I nod.

  He blows out a breath through pursed lips and shakes his head, looking away from me. “This isn’t how I expected it to end.”

  That has me arching an eyebrow and straightening up. “Oh? And how exactly did you expect it to end?” From what he was implying, I wouldn’t have guessed that he expected it to end at all.

  He refocuses his attention on me. “For one thing, I figured if you were going to end it that you’d have the balls to tell me straight. Something like, ‘Mason, our relationship has run its course, and I’m ready to move on. Good luck with your life.’”

  My other eyebrow joins the first, both arched high on my forehead. “So you expected that we’d part ways forever at that point? Never see each other again?”

  He chuckles, but it lacks humor. Slouching down in the chair, he props his arms on the armrests and folds his hands together as he surveys me. “I don’t know. It’s not like I had it all planned out. But I didn’t expect you to basically ghost me.”

  “I’m not—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a look.

  “Maybe ghosting isn’t exactly the right term. But you don’t answer my texts. You send my calls to voicemail. You don’t seek me out anymore. Ever since Aaron came back from our break after Christmas, you’ve been avoiding me.”

  I swallow, looking away this time. Feeling guilty and like the worst kind of bitch, because Mason’s right. He doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment from me. He deserves honesty. Our relationship might not have ever been based on much more than attraction and proximity, but we’ve always been honest with each other. He knows I sleep with Aaron. Or slept with Aaron, since that’s now long over. I know he’s slept with other women over the course of our arrangement.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair to you.” Taking a deep breath, I force myself to meet his eyes. My voice is thankfully steady when I say, “This part of our relationship has run its course, and I’m ready to move on. I’m sorry I didn’t say so sooner.”

  He nods, then blinks and examines his fingers where they’re resting over his stomach. “Thanks,” he says at last. Shifting, he sits up, his hands braced on the arms of the chair like he’s about to stand, but doesn’t. “I’ll go now, but I just want to know one thing first.”

  I force a smile. “Sure. What’s that?”

  His dark-eyed gaze is unnervingly steady. “It was always Aaron for you, wasn’t it? He was the one you wanted. Not really me. That’s why now that he’s out, so are you.”

  My breath freezes, and I don’t know how to answer that question. Because yes … but also no. That’s not how it started. But that’s how it’s ended up.

  Before I can answer, he nods, his own polite smile gracing his lips. “I see. I’ve wondered for a while, but always managed to convince myself I was imagining things. That you didn’t actually spend more time with him or anything. But …”

  He stands, and I do too, almost tripping over the blankets that seem determined to trap me on the couch. Kicking them away, I follow him to the door, catching his arm before he can leave. Something about the way he’s walking out feels so final.

  I guess it is.

  But at the same time, we still have to work together.

  “Mason, no, it wasn’t like that.” He spears me with that same look that says cut the bullshit more eloquently than words. I let go of his arm. “I mean, it didn’t start that way. I always liked you both. But over time I started developing feelings for Aaron, even though I know that wasn’t part of the deal.” I lift my hands in a helpless gesture and let them drop.

  He reaches out, a tender smile on his face as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes following the movement before refocusing on mine as his fingers caress my jaw briefly before falling back to his side. “I understand completely.” Leaning in, he brushes a kiss over my cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  The door closes with a soft click behind him, and I’m left staring at the white-painted wood, once again enveloped in the oppressive silence of my apartment.

  This is what I wanted …

  But somehow it makes me feel even more lonely. I was lonely before tonight. But when I was still hooking up with Mason, it was like we were lonely together, kind of.

  Not that I want to hook up with him anymore. So it’s stupid to be upset.

  But when has that ever made a difference to anyone’s feelings?

  I make my way back to the couch and curl into the corner, kicking away the blankets. Fishing out the remote, I restart the show I don’t care about. At least it makes my apartment sound less empty while I check my email, hoping for something to help me break out of this funk I’ve been in.

  I dismiss a text from my cousin Viola without answering. I’m not in the mood for obligatory family niceties, and as much as she always protests to the contrary, that’s how her invite to get together “sometime” while I’m in town feels.

  Opening my email, I perk right up.

  Because there, at the top of my inbox, is exactly the opportunity I was hoping for.

  Chapter Three

  Blaire

  Excitement and nerves bubble up inside me as I approach the door to Marcus’s apartment. I bounce on my toes a couple of times before taking a deep breath, lifting my arm, and knocking.

  Kendra answers, her long blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, a close-fitting tank and leggings signaling she’s on her way to the gym. She and Marcus got together last year while Marcus and Danny were still writing the band’s second album, but I’ve known her for longer than that. Marcus has been friends with her since high school, and she used to be his plus-one to industry events when they were only friends. I’m glad they both finally got over whatever shyness was keeping them apart, because they’re perfect together.

  She gives me a wide smile and motions me inside. “Hey, Blaire! What’s up? Are you here to see me or Marcus?”

  I give her a smile back. “Marcus. You look like you’re about to head out. Is he around?” A green-tinged sick feeling swirls with the bubbly nerves and excitement in my belly as I think about what I want to say to Marcus. I’ve been with Cataclysm from the beginning of their first tour almost five years ago. My mom, a pianist who plays as a contract musician with touring artists, learned about the position and told me about it in a rare show of maternal concern. I hit it off with all four guys immediately, joking with them like we’d known each other for years instead of minutes. The fact that I’d toured with my mom off and on as a kid and knew what to expect clinched it, and they offered me the job on the spot.

  Will Marcus view me taking a leave of absence to work with another artist as some kind of betrayal? I’ve always considered Marcus a friend, but there’s the fact that he’s also my boss that’s kept us from being very close.

  It wasn’t as much of an issue with the other guys because as the lead singer and main songwriter, Marcus is really the one in charge. I could treat Danny like a grumpy older brother and Aaron and Mason like fuck buddies and not have any problems doing my job. Now that Ava’s in the picture, Danny’s not quite so grumpy anymore, but in the beginning he needed some gentle pressure and outright verbal slapping around sometimes to get him in line. Same with the other two, though my approach with them was more physical than with Danny for obvious reasons. And even though I inserted myself in Marcus’s love life when he almost let Kendra get away from him, that was only because he had his head so far up his own ass that he couldn’t see a way out. What choice did I have?

  And look, that’s all turned out great. Except for the part about Kendra’s weasel-faced ex getting away with blackmail without adequate repercussions. Yeah, yeah, he lost his dad’s share of the company and thus lost his job. Supposedly Kendra’s dad had him blackballed, but I’ve made it my business to keep tabs on him as well, and he seems to be doing too well for himself for someone who’s blackballed.

  I haven’t quite worked out how I’ll get him w
hat he deserves—Ava’s ex was far easier to deal with—but that’s a problem for another time.

  Because Marcus walks in from the kitchen, a glass of water in one hand, his hair still damp with sweat around his forehead from his obviously-recent workout. “Hey, you ladies talking about me? What’d I do now?”

  Kendra laughs and steps in for a kiss, clearly not minding the sweat. “Blaire dropped by to talk to you about something. I’ll see you when I get back. Lock yourself in the back room if you decide to write so I don’t interrupt you.”

  He hooks an arm around her and pulls her close for one more kiss, murmuring things that I can’t quite make out and clearly aren’t meant for my ears. I busy myself looking at the framed art on the walls, waiting for their intimate moment to end. Ignoring their PDA is a skill I’ve mastered over the last year or so since they’ve been together. The honeymoon phase is still going strong for these two.

  “Bye, Blaire,” Kendra says as she passes me on the way to the door, and I swivel to give her a bright smile.

  “See ya!”

  And she’s gone. I’m alone with Marcus. My boss. Who I’m asking for a leave of absence. Because I got another job offer last night. A real one.

  From Beckett. Freaking. Stone.

  Marcus finishes his glass of water and motions me into the living room with a jerk of his head. “What’s up, Blaire? Everything alright? You look concerned about something.”

  Following him into the living room, I stuff my hands in the back pockets of my shorts so I stop twisting my fingers together in front of me. I’m good at telling people what they need to hear. Not so much at masking my own emotions. Not lately, anyway. I’ve gotten comfortable with my Cataclysm boys, and I’ve lost practice at that particular skill.

  Marcus settles on the couch, and I perch on a chair across from him, worrying my lip with my teeth as I try to remember how I’d planned to start this conversation.

  He waits patiently, his dark eyes friendly and open, never leaving mine. “Whatever it is, just say it. I’m sure we can come up with a solution.”

  All my air leaves me at once. “I need some time off.”

  “Uh … sure.” He rubs at his jaw, his brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re on break from tour. We all have nothing but time off right now. You know you don’t need my permission to go on vacation.”

  I press my lips together. “It’s not for a vacation. Beckett Stone emailed me last night. He needs help with his tour.”

  Now Marcus’s eyebrows jump in surprise. “Beckett Stone? Why’s he emailing you? And how’d he get your email anyway?”

  I purse my lips in annoyance. “Why shouldn’t he email me? I’m damn good at my job.” Of course, he’s not offering me an assistant job, but Marcus doesn’t know that yet.

  He waves his hand in front of him, sitting forward. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” He levels a you should know better look at me. “You’re the best, and we all know it. Of course he’d be lucky to have you working for him. I meant why does he think you’re available to work for him? And you didn’t answer the question about how he got your email in the first place. It’s not publicly available.”

  “Oh.” Of course Marcus wasn’t trying to put me in my place. I’m just so keyed up, and my emotions are all over the place lately. I shake my head. “I helped him out with a snafu at the Savage Sound Festival a couple months ago. His manager failed to get him a hotel reservation. Or failed to confirm it. Either way, he didn’t do his job, and Beckett didn’t have anywhere to stay. I called in a favor for him. He actually offered me a job then, but I didn’t think he was serious.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry, what? He offered you a job? And I’m just now hearing about it?”

  I sigh. “That’s what you got out of that? Yes. He followed me when I walked away after emailing him his new reservation and said I could have the tour manager job if I wanted it. Like I said, I didn’t think he was serious. I told him I already had a job and walked away.”

  Marcus’s eyes almost bug out of his head, and it’s a good thing he already finished his glass of water, because I think he’d do a spit take if he were drinking it still. “You walked away from being Beckett Stone’s tour manager? Wouldn’t that be your dream job?”

  I shrug. “Yeah. Kinda.” Except for the leaving Cataclysm part. Which is why I’m only willing to accept on a temporary basis. “But I love working with you. You guys are my family. So while I want to go work with Beckett Stone and manage his tour, it’s just until our tour starts up again. I’m bored just sitting around here. This will give me something to do besides irritate the PR team by meddling on all your social media pages.” And cyberstalking my friends’ douchebag exes, but that’s just for fun. And really doesn’t take up that much time.

  Marcus studies me for a long moment. “You’d really be okay coming back to schlep water bottles and snacks for us and making sure we get to our appointments on time after being in charge of an entire tour?”

  I shrug. Because I spent some time looking around online after getting Beckett’s email last night. Word is that he’s fired his last three tour managers, and the last two each didn’t last more than a month. Odds are he’ll can my ass before the week is out. I don’t say any of that to Marcus, though. Instead I say, “I can’t see leaving Cataclysm. You guys would fall apart without me, and we both know it. And who knows? Maybe you’ll promote me to manager after I’ve got some experience under my belt.” I give him a cheeky grin to show I’m joking, and he laughs, but that’s secretly my dream.

  Yeah, it’s no secret that I’m a big Beckett Stone fan, but I learned at a young age that meeting your idols usually doesn’t go well. That’s what happens when your parents are backup musicians for the biggest touring acts and you sometimes accompany them on tour. You get to see the side that’s not for public consumption. Of everyone. Especially since lots of adults tend to ignore kids. Or think they’re too stupid to realize what’s going on.

  I wasn’t.

  So, yeah, I squealed a little when I got back to my hotel room after meeting Beckett Stone at the Savage Sound this summer. And I lingered over the way I caught him checking me out. But I also know he’s a seasoned veteran of the rock star scene. Those guys tend to be the most jaded and the biggest assholes.

  So I’m fully prepared for this gig to be a short-term thing. I don’t think I could last in the company of a prima donna asshole for too long. Not after living with my Cataclysm boys, who still act like they can’t quite believe they’ve gotten so lucky as to live this dream life, even if some parts of it are exhausting.

  Marcus stands in front of me, reaching out a hand. I take it and let him pull me up and into a sweaty hug. “Go do what you need to do. Let me know if plans change, alright?”

  I pat his back and pull away. “Alright. I doubt they will, though.”

  “Say goodbye to everyone before you ship out.”

  I smile up at him. “Of course I will.”

  After a few more pleasantries, I leave Marcus to his writing time and head back to my own apartment. I have a phone call to make and a contract to negotiate. The sick feeling is gone, most of the nerves settled and replaced with simmering excitement.

  Sure, Beckett Stone might end up being the worst kind of insufferable diva. But getting to control an entire tour is a challenge I can’t wait to take on.

  Chapter Four

  Beckett

  “What?” I snarl into my phone when it rings again, dropping my face into my free hand. I’ve been fielding calls all day. From my assistant, the label, my asshole agent, and my ex-wife informing me that she’s going to some bullshit retreat to “find herself” and that my daughter will be joining me on tour.

  Everyone wants a piece of me. And all I want is someone competent to come in and run my goddamn tour. Because right now, I’m managing everything myself, which mostly consists of canceling shows, telling the PR team to let everyone know I’ll reschedule, and reaching out to anyone Chet suggests as a
possible tour manager. Even with the help of Kelsey—my impossibly perky and optimistic assistant—I’m drowning.

  “Um, hello? May I speak to Beckett Stone?” A sexy, alto voice that I don’t recognize responds far too politely to my antagonistic greeting.

  Lifting my head from my hand, I blink at my empty kitchen, startled that I’m not speaking to anyone I know. “Who’s this?”

  The low chuckle that answers my rude demand sends a rush of blood south. “If you’re lucky, your new tour manager. Though if that’s the way you’re going to speak to me, I might have to reconsider your offer.”

  I blink again, my mouth hanging open as I make sense of her words. When I finally register who she must be, hope blossoms in my chest like the first flower of spring after the harsh winter snows have finally melted. She’s considering my offer. “Blaire? Is this Blaire? You got my email?” I snap my mouth shut, hating the edge of desperation underlining my questions. It has to be her, of course. Who else could it be?

  She chuckles again. “I did. And while my employment status hasn’t changed, we’re on an extended break from touring while one of the band members spends time with his wife and new baby. So for the next few months, I can handle your tour. At least it’ll give you some breathing room to find someone else who you’ll be happy working with.”

  Relief drenches me when she says she can manage my tour, that little blossom of hope opening to the first rays of the sun. But the fact that she’s unwilling to commit to more than a few months feels like a brewing storm on the horizon. I’m desperate, though. So I’ll have to take what she’ll give me and hope I can convince her to change her mind later. Plus, there’s always the chance that my one encounter with her was a random fluke, and she’ll be as much of a fuckup as everyone else has been.