Текст книги "Insider"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

 

Eighteen

“On your feet, soldier!”

Toni sprang from a dead sleep to her best impersonation of an army private standing at full attention—complete with salute—before she realized she wasn’t dreaming. There really was a blurry drill-sergeant type standing over the sofa.

“Not you,” the very large, very muscular man said to a half-groggy, half-terrified, completely confused Toni. “I’m going to make bread pudding out of your doughy boyfriend here.”

Doughy? If Logan was doughy, then Toni was a bag of jumbo marshmallows.

“Go to hell, Kirk,” Logan muttered before he buried his head under his pillow.

Toni doubted he’d even been asleep three hours. He apparently thought it was his job to be that last person to leave an after-party. When he’d crawled onto the sofa and passed out next to her, it had been after three.

“Wrong answer. Everyone else is already in the gym,” Kirk said. “Get your lazy ass out of bed before I embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.”

Surely he meant Logan’s justfriend.

It wasn’t even fully light outside yet, Toni realized as she blinked at the open doorway and out the just visible windshield. The bus door stood wide open and a cool breeze blew down the corridor, chilling her bare legs. She tugged on the hem of her sleepshirt, glad she’d decided to pull it on when she’d gone to bed the night before. Otherwise she’d currently be in the buff while she continued to salute Drill Sergeant Kirk. Feeling ridiculous, she dropped her arm, and then she found her glasses on the coffee table. She stuck them on her face and gawked at the giant of a man—he had to be at least six foot eight, with the shoulders of a gorilla and biceps bigger than her head. She was sure he could crush watermelons between his enormous thighs. The giant yanked the blanket off Logan and tossed it on the floor.

“I’m not embarrassed,” Logan said to Kirk as his pillow was snatched away and thrown across the room. “She’s already seen me naked.”

“But has she seen you hogtied and physically carried out of the bus before?” Kirk shouted.

Logan smirked and opened one eye to look up at the man towering over him. “Is that a threat, Captain Kirk?”

Toni pressed her lips together so she didn’t laugh as she pictured the hulking muscle man in a Starfleet uniform. In her mind’s eye, it was several sizes too small and bursting at the seams.

“How many times do I have to tell you I was an enlisted man, not an officer?” Kirk asked. Well, he actually yelled it. Toni wondered if the “inside voices” speech she used with Birdie would work on him.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting,” Logan said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Go back to the gym and torture the other guys. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“If I have to come back to get you, I’m getting out my cattle prod,” Kirk said.

“Promises, promises.”

Kirk turned and seemed to actually see Toni for the first time. His scrutinizing gaze traveled down her body and back up again. He frowned and offered her a curt nod. “You should come with him.”

She crossed her arms self-consciously over her not-even-close-to-rock-hard abs. “I was planning on it,” she said, wanting some candid shots for her project. However, she had no plans to work out and make a fool of herself in front of the fine specimen of a man on the sofa who was currently stretching like a sleepy cat and muttering negative slurs against the effects of alcohol.

“Good.” Kirk left the room, his footsteps surprisingly light as he jogged the length of the bus and down the steps.

“So that’s the band’s physical trainer, I take it?” Toni said.

“No,” Logan said, his tone thick with sarcasm. “He bakes us cupcakes.”

“Mmm, caaaake,” Toni said in the voice of a zombie craving brains. She wished Kirk really did bake cupcakes. Her sweet tooth hadn’t been satisfied once since she’d stepped on the bus. She was surprised by how healthy these guys ate. But then they probably wouldn’t look so fit and delicious if they subsisted on beer and Cheetos.

“Caaaake,” Logan copied her.

“Do you guys always exercise and eat well?” she asked as she found a pair of yoga pants in her bag and slid them on over her sleep shorts. She figured she could dress comfortably while following the guys around in the gym and no one would notice. She changed into a clean shirt as well.

“Only when we’re under Sam’s thumb,” Logan said. “You’ll get to watch me lounge around and binge on junk food tomorrow.”

His day off. She smiled, looking forward to having his undivided attention and no social engagements. She couldn’t really complain anyway. He’d done a remarkable job of spending time with her, even though he was so incredibly busy with the tour. Well, except for leaving her alone while he’d stayed at the party. She wondered if he’d had fun while she was sleeping like a rock.

“Assuming I can lift my hands as high as my mouth after Kirk is finished with me,” Logan added.

With a sigh, he stood and made a pit stop in the bathroom—taking a lengthy pee with the door wide open. The man had no boundaries. He then swallowed a few painkillers with a sports drink he grabbed out of the fridge—still deliciously in the buff—before putting on a pair of tight briefs.

“Gotta keep the boys from flopping about,” he told her with a wink. He covered his black underwear with a pair of shorts, and they sat side by side on the sofa to put on their socks and trainers.

“Pink and blue zigzags today,” Logan said as he waited for her to grab her camera and other equipment.

“What?”

“Your socks.”

She hadn’t paid attention to what she’d put on.

“Do you approve?” she asked, snuggling into his side when he wrapped an arm around her and directed her toward the door.

“Seeing what socks you’re wearing is like getting an extra little surprise every time I get you naked.”

“You don’t have to get me naked to see my socks,” she reminded him as she stepped in front of him so she could take the narrow stairs to the ground.

“But I prefer it that way.”

Logan shivered when he stepped off the bus. He hadn’t put on a shirt. And Toni couldn’t resist running a hand over his gooseflesh and the taut nipples that were now begging for her attention.

“Why is it so damned cold?” Logan rubbed his hands briskly over his upper arms.

“Probably because the sun isn’t even up yet.”

“Yeah, well, most of the gyms will only accommodate us taking over their facility if we do it in their off hours. So we get to work out at oh dark thirty.”

Toni wrote a note on her hand about asking Butch how they coordinated gym time. Sounded like a huge hassle just to exercise.

“Can’t you work out at the hotel or something?” she asked.

“We do. But every three days, Kirk insists on free weights.”

“Of course he does,” Toni muttered under her breath. The man could probably deadlift a tank.

The gym was a surprising flurry of activity. She’d anticipated seeing the band members of Exodus End, but most of the crew—including Butch—and two members of Sinners—lead singer Sed Lionheart and the short guy with spikey blond hair, whose name and instrument escaped Toni at the moment—were already working up a sweat. There were a couple of women she didn’t recognize on the elliptical machines. Toni was pretty sure the one who looked like a supermodel was Sed Lionheart’s wife. Reagan wasn’t with the other women. She was curling a set of large dumbbells and making faces at herself in the mirror that spanned one large wall. Her hunk of a tall, dark, and handsome bodyguard was keeping a close eye on her while he performed squats.

Toni turned on her video camera and waited for some magic to happen. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Behold!” Logan said raising both arms in the air and flicking his wrists to wave his hands down at himself. “Lo.”

“I think you mean lo and behold,” Dare said as he slid a black disk labeled 25kg on the end of a weight bar.

“Prepare to be shocked and amazed,” Logan continued. He spun in a slow circle as he scoped out the room.

Toni couldn’t help but giggle at his attention-seeking theatrics.

“We’re all amazed that you’re here,” Max said as he pulled his chin over a bar. “What time did you get to bed?”

“Three a.m. Five. I don’t know.”

“Did Kirk have to carry you off the bus again?”

“Shut up,” Logan said in Max’s direction. “He’s only done that once.”

“For being late, you can drop and give me twenty,” Kirk shouted as he handed an upside-down Steve a weight to hold against his chest as he did inverted crunches. That would explain Steve’s eight-pack, Toni mused as she snapped several pictures of said eight-pack.

“Twenty?” Logan said. “Is that all?”

“For your cockiness, make it thirty,” Kirk said.

“You’re boring me, Kirk.” Logan rolled his eyes and examined each person in the room. “I challenge you,” he said, pointing at the bleach-blond man from Sinners, “to a push-up duel.”

“Me?” the guy said, looking flabbergasted.

Dare grumbled, “Here we go again,” before he used his teeth to tear the tape he was wrapping around one hand and wrist.

Sed burst out laughing and pounded his bandmate on the back. “Go kick his ass, Jace.”

Jace Seymour. Sinners’ bassist, Toni recalled suddenly. Apparently her body was out of bed while her brain was still asleep. Jace was the smallest guy in the place. Toni wondered why Logan had singled him out.

Logan rotated his arms in wide circles and then stretched them over his head, jogging in place next to a mat as he waited for Jace to join him.

“What’s a push-up duel?” Jace asked as he stepped next to Logan.

“A game I never lose,” Logan said.

“A game that everyone he usually trains with refuses to play,” Dare corrected as he lay back on a weight bench and carefully wrapped his hands around the silver bar above his face.

“That’s because you all know I can’t be beat.”

“I’m pretty sure Jace will make you eat those words.” Sed crossed his arms over his broad chest and beamed at his bandmate with something that bordered on fatherly pride. Toni made sure she caught the look with her camera.

“How does this work?” Jace asked. He didn’t have Logan’s swagger, but the determination in his stance was unmistakable. He didn’t look the least bit intimidated.

“We do sets of thirty push-ups,” Logan said.

“Thirty?” Toni cringed. Her arms and chest were aching just thinking about it. She doubted she could do three.

Jace nodded without batting an eyelash, and flexed his fingers.

“On the second set, you call out a modification for the next thirty. I call out a modification for the third set, you for the fourth, and so on until one of us collapses. Or rather, until you collapse.”

“Got it,” Jace said. He dropped to the mat without hesitation.

“Which one of you dumbasses can count to thirty?” Logan asked.

“I think I can count that high,” Sed volunteered with a crooked grin.

Logan got into position on the mat parallel to Jace. Sed counted out reps while the two men completed push-up after push-up in perfect form. Strangely, the guy most into the competition was Kirk, and he was obviously rooting for the opposing team.

“Hey, Logan,” Kirk said, “don’t you know smaller guys are better at this sort of thing? They don’t have to push up as much weight.”

“That’s why”—Logan lowered his body to the floor—“I picked”—up again—“him.” And down. “No one”—up—“ever really”—down—“challenges me.”

“One of these days, someone is going to knock you down a peg,” Kirk said.

“Not today.”

Neither man had broken into a sweat when Sed reached thirty and Jace called out, “Right leg up.”

“Too easy,” Logan claimed as he lifted his right foot off the floor and continued into the next thirty push-ups.

Toni squatted down in front of Logan so she could get a close-up of his face. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his neck. The muscles of his arms, shoulders, and chest strained with each repetition. Toni had never realized how beautiful a push-up could be. She was pretty sure she was sweating far more than Logan was. She wasn’t sure if this footage would make it into the book, but she was positive she’d review it regularly.

Sed reached thirty again. Toni peeked at Jace, who had sweat dripping onto the mat beneath him, but still wore the same focused and determined look on his face as when he’d accepted Logan’s challenge. Toni decided that Logan had indeed chosen a worthy opponent and might soon find himself knocked down a peg. At least she thought that until Logan called out his modification.

“Clap between reps.”

“Ah, shit,” Jace muttered. But when Sed started back at one, he pushed off the mat with the force necessary to lift his hands high enough off the ground to clap.

Toni gawked at them, vaguely aware that the gym had fallen silent as everyone had stopped their own workouts to watch the competition. As they were all cheering for Jace, Toni shouted, “Come on, Logan! You can do it!”

He tilted his head to offer her a smile and a wink before turning his concentration back to his task.

Both men were laboring hard by the time they reached thirty. Logan nodded in Jace’s direction. “Impressive,” he said. “Most guys kiss the mat by the fifth rep.”

“I always do,” Steve said and laughed.

“So what’s next?” Logan asked.

Jace could scarcely catch his breath enough to say. “One arm.”

“Left or right?” Logan shifted from his left arm to his right arm without wavering.

“Right,” Jace said.

“But that’s the arm you were shot in,” Sed protested. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”

Toni sought and found the bullet scars on Jace’s right shoulder and arm. She snapped a couple of pictures, making a mental note to find out what had happened to him.

“Nope,” Jace said. He lifted his left hand off the floor. “Gonna try it anyway.”

“Someone needs to shoot Logan so it’s a fair match,” Steve said.

Logan lifted his left hand off the mat and gave Steve the middle finger. He kept that finger extended through the entire thirty, one-armed push-ups. Jace’s arm was shaking so bad by the final repetition that Toni was sure it would give out on him, but he managed to keep going. His relief was tangible when he was finally able to set his left hand back on the mat.

Everyone cheered and clapped for him, even Toni.

“Are you done?” Logan asked. Sweat glistened on his bronze skin and wetted the golden curls around his face and neck.

“Not yet,” Jace said.

“Well, that about kicked my ass,” Logan said, shifting to his left arm and rotating his right. “Time for a set of girl push-ups.”

Jace laughed and set his knees down on the mat. Toni wondered if Logan had picked so-called girl push-ups more for Jace’s benefit than his own. She was pretty sure Jace’s right arm had been worked to the point of exhaustion and one more clap repetition would have flattened him, resulting in a sure win for Logan.

After thirty more reps, which everyone in the room counted off, Jace said, “Feet on a bench.”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Logan said. “It’s not bad enough that you tried to take my job.”

Take his job? As bassist of Exodus End? Surely Logan was joking.

The two bassists pulled their mats across the room to a bench and got into position with both feet on the seat and their hands on the mat.

“Just making sure you get in a good workout,” Jace said with a devilish grin.

After several reps, it was apparent that Jace’s right arm was physically incapable of contracting. Toni had never in her life worked out to exhaustion. She tended to stop when she got a little winded. Jace shifted to put all his weight on his left arm. In a few reps, that arm was shaking too. Logan was showing signs of fatigue as well. In any case, he was too tired to talk smack and had his full concentration on lowering and raising his body.

Jace released a growl of exertion, which gave him the perseverance to do one more push-up before he ended up sprawled face down and panting on the mat. Logan did a final rep to claim his victory and collapsed beside Jace. Both men laughed as they tried—and failed—to get off the floor.

“I’m tempted to call that a draw,” Logan said, his voice muffled since his face was pressed into the mat.

“Don’t you dare,” Jace said, between gasps for air. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Are you okay?” Toni asked as Logan lay on the floor long after everyone had returned to their respective workouts.

“I can’t move my arms,” he said.

“Me neither.” Jace chuckled and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Good thing we don’t have a show for a couple of days.”

“Not that it’s a huge deal if a couple of bassists don’t show up for a gig,” Steve said from a nearby weight bench.

Battle of the Bassists. Toni gave the event a title in case it made it into the book.

“It’s not naptime, Schmidt,” Kirk yelled from across the room where he was spotting Max through his bench presses. “You need to work your lower body. I want you to do squats until your ass catches fire.”

“That won’t take long,” Toni said quietly. “His ass is already exceptionally hot.”

She glanced up and grinned when Logan and Jace both burst out laughing. The two men assisted each other to their feet, whacked each other enthusiastically on the back, and knocked their knuckles together in parting.

“Respect,” Logan said.

He turned, searching for the squat station. Therefore he missed the open-mouthed look of astonishment followed by the wide smile on Jace Seymour’s face as he walked away. Toni, however, recognized it. She wondered why someone as young and successful as Jace coveted Logan’s validation. She supposed most bassists would look up to Logan Schmidt, the musician. He was phenomenally talented and one of the best-known bassists on the planet. Yet he was so easygoing and personable, she tended to forget he was famous. She tilted her head as she trailed after him, seeing him in a new light. Sure, he could be a bit cocky, but all things considered, he wasn’t like most celebrities. But then maybe most celebrities weren’t the stuck-up, egotistical jerks they were portrayed to be by the media. Or maybe they were. Whatever the case, she was going to make sure that these four men—and Reagan too—were shown in their true colors.

“Hey, Toni!” Reagan waved her over from across the room. “Come over here and get a dose of estrogen. Hanging out with all that testosterone will grow hair on your chest.”

“Is that why you keep stealing my razor?” her hunk of a bodyguard said. He then glanced wide-eyed at Toni before dropping his weights with a loud clang and dashing out of the room.

Okay, weird. Toni should be about as intimidating as a gnat to that guy. Why would he run from her?

“I’m working,” Toni called back. As if watching four hot guys lift weights was actually work.

“Don’t worry,” Reagan said, “we have a good view of them in the mirror over here.”

“Yeah, we do!” one of the other women said.

“Ah,” Toni said, heading toward the cardio area, curious to meet a few rock stars’ wives and/or girlfriends. “But can you smell them from over there?”

“Not yet,” Reagan said. “And trust me, that’s a good thing.” She crinkled her nose in disgust.

Toni stopped next to Reagan’s elliptical machine and waited for introductions. There were two other women working out—one with burnished brown hair, the other a strawberry blonde.

“This is Myrna, Brian Sinclair’s wife.” Reagan introduced the stunning brunette who was running at warp speed on the treadmill to her left.

“Nice to meet you,” Toni said, bobbing her head to try to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Likewise,” Myrna said in a huff of breath.

“Can you believe she just had a baby a few weeks ago?” Reagan asked.

“You look great,” Toni said, meaning it.

“Thanks,” Myrna huffed. “I need to keep in shape to ward off all the pretty young thangs trying to get their hooks into my husband.”

Reagan rolled her eyes. “Puh-leaze,” she said. “That man loves you so blindingly, it hurts my eyes to look at you two directly.”

Myrna smiled, but didn’t slow her pace.

“Sinclair doesn’t work out?” Toni asked. She still hadn’t had the chance to meet the renowned guitarist. An oversight she hoped to remedy soon.

“He has Mal,” Myrna said. “When I’m finished, we’ll switch out.” She increased the incline on her treadmill.

So apparently keeping a rock star’s romantic interest involved having buns of steel. Toni eyed the stair climber with dread.

“This is Jessica Chase,” Reagan introduced the blonde—another stunner, one who made Toni feel like a Walmart shopper who’d accidentally stumbled onto Rodeo Drive. “She and Sed Lionheart are getting married in a couple of weeks.”

“Gotta fit in that dress,” Jessica said as she wiped the sweat from her face with a small white towel.

“I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous.”

Jessica ran a hand over her lower belly. “Maybe if Unborn Sed would stop insisting I need to put mayonnaise on everything that goes into my mouth. I don’t even like mayonnaise.”

So the small bulge in her lower belly was a baby. Was that how she’d managed to get someone like Sed Lionheart to commit? Not that Toni was considering doing that to Logan.

“So I guess Logan finally has a date for the occasion,” Reagan said. She offered Toni a suggestive wink.

“Me?” Toni sputtered. She clapped a hand over her suddenly thundering heart.

“Who else? You are his girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Not really. No.” She’d thought that maybe she was until Logan had debunked that myth half a dozen times at the after-party the night before.

“So you haven’t spent every moment of the last two days with him?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And he isn’t so possessive of you that he immediately wants to fight every man who so much as glances your way?”

“I guess, but—”

“And he left the after-party alone last night because?”

Was that unusual for him? “Um.”

“Because Reagan is an excellent cock blocker,” Jessica said, reaching out a fist to knock her knuckles against Reagan’s.

“So why is he so jealous?” Reagan pressed.

“He’s just—” Just what? What was he exactly? “He thinks he has a special claim over me.” And only because she’d been a virgin. Not because he was romantically jealous. She was sure of that much.

“And that’s why he can’t take his eyes off of you,” Reagan said.

“Right.”

Reagan shook her head at Toni. “Girl, we need to have a long talk.”

“About?”

“About using your power to get what you want.”

And what did she want exactly? Toni glanced over her shoulder to find Logan watching her as he continued his squats.

Logan. That was what she wanted. Who she wanted. And not just as a temporary sex coach. Or a justfriend. As her forever.

“I would appreciate some advice,” Toni admitted.

She wasn’t the only woman in the room being closely watched by a man. Sed always had at least one eye on Jessica and now that Reagan’s bodyguard had returned to the gym, he was doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t watching her. Perhaps it was time for Toni to employ her cleverness.

“Maybe you can give me some pointers on how to catch the attention of that guy,” Toni said, nodding in tall, dark, and obviously smitten’s direction.

Reagan’s eyebrows arched. “What guy?”

“That guy over there who keeps staring at us.” And by us, Toni meant Reagan, but the woman’s reaction was priceless.

“Ethan?” Reagan squeaked and almost face-planted on her treadmill.

Finally! A name to go with the face. And the body.

“Yeah,” Toni said. “He’s quite attractive.” In an I’ll-rip-out-your-spine-and-use-it-to-stir-my-coffee kind of way.

“I think he’s taken,” Myrna said, snorting on a laugh.

“Really taken,” Jessica added.

Reagan cringed and shook her head at both women.

“He does appear to have a crush on Reagan.” Toni sighed as she continued to try to work some information out of the tight-lipped woman.

“What makes you say that?” Reagan said, her grayish-blue eyes locked on her treadmill display.

“Well, he watches you constantly.”

Reagan laughed. “He is my bodyguard. That’s his job.”

Touché.

“Besides, I thought you liked Logan,” Reagan said.

“I do,” Toni admitted. She so much more than liked him. “I just figure he’ll tire of me sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, honey,” Jessica said. “We really do need to have a long talk with you.”

Myrna shut off her machine and slowed to a walk before hopping to the floor. “It’s been lovely,” she said, “but I need to get back to Malcolm. My boobs say it’s feeding time.”

“It was great meeting you,” Toni said. “Maybe you’d let me interview you about what it’s like to raise a child on the road with a rock band.”

Myrna smiled. “You’ll have to read my book to find out,” she said. “I should have it finished in about eighteen years or so.”

So that would be a no on the interview.

Toni set her equipment down—she wasn’t getting any work done anyway—and took Myrna’s spot on the treadmill. She set a brisk walking pace. She and Birdie often took their border collie for long walks, so she was used to this level of exercise. All the strength training and weightlifting going on across the room was far beyond her current ability. But it was fun to watch in the mirror in front of her treadmill.

A few moments later, a pair of men entered the gym. She immediately recognized the black spikey hair and tattoos of Brian “Master” Sinclair, and his laughing partner in crime was none other than Trey Mills.

“I’m surprised he’s out of bed,” Reagan said with a self-satisfied grin.

“Where Brian goes, he goes,” Jessica said.

Ethan’s attention had finally shifted from Reagan, but he didn’t look pleased to see the new arrivals. Maybe he was jealous of Trey’s relationship with Reagan after all. Strange thing was, Ethan’s cold stare of animosity wasn’t aimed at Trey, the man competing for Reagan’s affection. Nope, he directed all his rancor in Brian’s direction. Toni knew there was a huge story in all this somewhere. She had to keep reminding herself that she was there to write a candid interactive book to make Exodus End look good, not stir up gossip about their newest and likely temporary bandmate.

Trey parted ways with Brian and offered Ethan a sexy smile that probably melted the guy’s tennis shoes to the mat.

What? If Toni had been confused by the dynamics before, she was now completely flabbergasted. She’d hung around enough gay guys to know that look. She certainly hadn’t expected to see it here.

Trey made his way toward Reagan and climbed onto the front of her treadmill, leaning forward and offering her his sensual lips in a pucker. Toni had no idea how Reagan managed to kiss him without knocking their teeth out.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Reagan asked after their mouths parted.

“I was lonely.” He pouted in a way that made Toni wish she could take that loneliness away. “And Malcolm was screaming his little head off for his breakfast. Can you believe Brian wouldn’t let me give the baby a sucker to shut him up?”

“That asshole,” Reagan said with a laugh.

“Are you done in here?” Trey asked. “There’s a bed on the bus with your name on it.”

“Aren’t Eric and Reb hogging the bedroom?”

So that was where Sinners’ drummer was. All other band members were accounted for.

“Maybe your big, tough bodyguard over there can convince the perpetual newlyweds that it’s our turn to rock the bus.”

Reagan grinned. “I think he might be able to.” She shut off her treadmill and hopped off. “We’ll talk later, okay, Toni?”

Toni was surprised that Reagan knew anyone but Trey existed.

“Okay.”

“I’ll offer you a few pointers on how to get what you want.”

“Thanks.”

Well, that should be some valuable information. Toni was pretty sure that Reagan Elliot was a master at getting everything she wanted out of life.