Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig

Will

Well, shit.

The minute I saw Eva peering at the silent auction items, all the reasons I’d had for staying away from her fell away. I found myself crossing the ballroom, drawn towards her like some kind of irresistible beacon, abandoning my cousin Fox mid-sentence.

Logically, I knew I should be running in the opposite direction. Getting closer to Eva was the last thing I needed to be doing. But logic didn’t seem to have anything to do with it. Seeing her there, her amazing body clad in tight black satin, red hair swept up to reveal a delicate creamy neck, I had to talk to her.

But I also knew that talking to her meant coming clean. I would not only have to tell her why I didn’t call her, but I’d also have to explain what a dumbass tattoo artist would be doing in a place like this.

Which meant telling her about my family.

I hadn’t been looking forward to that conversation. But it would be a hell of a lot better than this.

“Did Mom need something?” I ask my dad, thinking maybe if I can get him out of here quickly, I’ll be able to explain it to Eva myself. But from the way she’s staring between us, eyes wide, I can tell she’s already figured it out.

Besides, knowing my dad, there was never much chance he was going to walk away easily.

“A couple people she wants to introduce you to,” Dad says. He reaches out to straighten my tie. “Looking good, kid.”

I grit my teeth. “Thanks, old man.”

He grins at the moniker and then turns to Eva. Because of course he does. My dad is a meddler and a gossip and it’s way too much to hope that he would see me with a girl and not have something to say about it.

“Who’s your friend?” His voice is full of false innocence and I roll my eyes at him.

“Dad, this is Eva. Eva, my father.”

Dad shoots me a quick glance I can’t read before taking Eva’s hand in his own. “Nice to meet you, Eva. I’m Cash.”

She lets out a little squeak, mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally whispers. “Yes, you are.”

His grin grows—doesn’t matter how old the man gets, nothing pleases him more than rendering a fan speechless. “And how do you know my boy here?” he asks. “Or have the two of you just met?”

Since Eva still doesn’t look to be in any shape to answer, I grit my teeth and grind out the words. “Eva came into the shop for a tattoo a few weeks ago.”

My dad’s face lights up. “Really? That’s wonderful. He’s an amazing artist, isn’t he?” Dad moves to roll up his sleeve. “He did this one for me about a year ago—”

I clamp a hand down on his forearm. “That’s really not necessary.” With my glare, I try to convey the age-old message from every kid to every parent all over the world—stop embarrassing me.

But Eva, at least, seems to have snapped out of her momentary celebrity-induced stupor. “He did a wonderful job,” she tells my dad, voice polite and very nearly steady. “It was my first tattoo and it didn’t even hurt.”

“You’re just a badass,” I tell her, loving the way her cheeks pink up at the compliment. Then I remember that my dad is standing here, staring between the two of us, no doubt overjoyed that I appear to be flirting with someone.

“Will showed me a picture of the sun tattoo he did for you,” Eva says. “It was amazing.”

My dad’s chest is puffed out with pride and even through my annoyance, I can’t help but feel a twinge of affection. The way he’s so unabashedly nuts about his kids, the way he wears his pride for us on his sleeve, is one of the things we all love best about him.

But that doesn’t mean I want him here while I try to talk to Eva. “You can tell Mom I’ll be around to meet whoever in a while,” I tell him, trying to nudge him with my shoulder. Take the hint, Dad.

“Why don’t you both come over to see her with me?” he says. “I’m sure she’d love to meet your new friend.”

I almost laugh out loud at that. Yes, I definitely want to bring Eva over to meet both my parents. Knowing my luck, a couple aunts and uncles would probably be there, too. Maybe throw in a few cousins.

Exactly what I need—the whole damn family up in my business.

“Maybe another time,” I say through gritted teeth.

Dad studies me for a second, no doubt taking in the tension I’m throwing out, and his eyes soften. “Okay. I’ll get out of your hair.” He adjusts my tie again, even though I’m certain it’s already straight. “Make sure you find your uncles before you leave tonight. They’ve been asking about you.”

A familiar stab of guilt hits my belly. I haven’t been around much lately. I nod at my dad, trying not to wince, but he’s already turning to Eva.

“It was very nice to meet you. I hope we’ll see you again.”

“You too,” she squeaks out.

My dad gives me a last wink and then turns and disappears into my mother’s party. I take a deep breath, imagining the shock I’m sure I’ll see on Eva’s face, and turn to her.

She’s laughing. Laughing silently, laughing so hard there are tears in the corners of her eyes. A smile breaks over my face without even knowing what she finds so amusing—she’s so damn beautiful, even more gorgeous than I remembered.

“What?”

“He wants you to find your uncles,” she gasps, fanning her hands around her eyes as if that will help her to get it together. “Your uncles.”

“Why is that funny?”

“Because your uncles are Reed, Lennon, and Daltrey Ransome.”

I peer at her as she dissolves into more laughter, bemused. I’ve gotten a variety of reactions from women finding out who my family is—shock, excitement, that cold calculating look of opportunity I know to run from—but uproarious laughter is a new one for me.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps, dabbing under her eyes. “I’m just…I think I’m getting hysterical.” She shakes her head a few times. “I was supposed to ease back into it tonight,” she half mutters, almost more to herself, “fly under the radar. I came over here to hide. And instead I end up talking to Cash Ransome.” Another peal of laughter, then she looks up at me, eyes still wet. “Do you ever get like that? When something isn’t actually funny, but in the moment it’s just so absurd you can’t…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

I raise an eyebrow and look at my watch. “It’s barely nine.”

She hasn’t managed to wipe the grin off her face, and I’m so glad. I don’t even care if it’s at my expense—I could look at that smile for the rest of the night. Hell, I could look at any part of her for the rest of the night. I had thought Eva was gorgeous dressed in simple blue cotton on my tattoo table. Eva in a skin-tight evening gown? It’s a miracle I can talk at all.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I blurt out, and the smile immediately drops from her face. Shit.

But she doesn’t look angry. Instead she ducks her head, shy, cheeks coloring. “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

Suddenly I can’t even remember any of the reasons that I told myself to stay away. I reach for her, chest expanding when she doesn’t pull away at the contact of my fingers on the smooth, soft skin of her forearm. I skim my hand down, over her delicate wrist, relishing her little shiver at the touch, then lace my fingers with hers.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t call.” My voice is husky with sincerity, but I don’t care. I want her to know how much she affects me.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before looking back at me. “I get it.”

“You do?”

She tilts her head in the direction where my dad had just left. “I mean, you grew up with the most famous band in the world. I would imagine you have a better sense of the music industry than most people. I’m not surprised you want to avoid that in your own life.”

I release a breath, feeling lighter. I should tell her that my feelings on the industry have very little to do with my dad and uncles. That they protected us, always, as much as they possibly could, from the darker side of rock and roll. That it was someone else entirely that brought me so much disillusionment. That I still don’t think I’ve recovered from Skye.

But there will be time for that later. If things go the way I want, there will be plenty of time.

“You want to get a drink?” I ask, and her head suddenly snaps to the side, eyes wide.

“Shit.” She scans the ballroom like she’s searching for something. “My PA—Marissa—she was getting us a drink. I totally got distracted.”

“Want to go look for her?”

She eyes the room again, more apprehensive now, and I watch the elegant column of her neck when she swallows hard. “Sure,” she says, bracing her shoulders like she’s preparing herself for something unpleasant.

Some instinct makes me draw her closer, place my hand at the small of her back to keep her next to me. To shield her. When her body relaxes against me, the swell of victory in my chest is intense.

We make our way around the exterior of the room, heading towards the bar. “This is a really nice event,” Eva murmurs, looking around. “Usually these things are so stuffy.”

“My mom throws a damn good party.”

She looks up at me. “Your mom is in charge of this?”

“She runs the charity.” I nod at one of the framed posters on the nearest wall. “The Sunshine Foundation. My aunt and uncle started it years ago, to combat bullying. The whole family got involved, and it grew over the years. Now we support a bunch of youth-related causes we’re passionate about. My mom always wanted to work in philanthropy, she went to school for it. It made sense for her to take over the foundation.”

Eva is silent for a long moment before clearing her throat. When she speaks again, her voice is thick with emotion. “Your family’s foundation paid for my piano lessons when I was eleven.”

I stop, staring down at her. “Seriously?”

She nods. “It was just my mom, you know? She did a great job, always made sure we had enough. But there wasn’t usually much extra. I took lessons at the local rec center as much as I could, but when the teachers started recommending I get into serious training, there just wasn’t money for it.” She shrugs. “A social worker there helped me fill out a bunch of applications for aid. The Sunshine Foundation made it so I could take advanced lessons. Probably wouldn’t have got into a performing arts high school without those lessons.” She smiles. “So thank your mom for me, sometime, okay?”

I stare down at her, lost for words. The Sunshine Foundation has always been a family endeavor, something we’ve all engaged with and taken ownership of, even as little kids. One of my earliest memories was the day the foundation rented out Disneyland after hours for the kids of veterans who were serving overseas. I can’t remember a time when the foundation wasn’t organizing something like that.

The idea that something my family did years ago has had such a profound effect on Eva’s life makes me feel connected to her in a way I can’t quite explain.

“I will,” I finally manage. Our eyes are locked on each other, the heat of her skin a brand on my hand that still presses against her lower back. My fingers flex against her on instinct, every part of me wanting to get closer. To feel more.

As I stare down at her, Eva’s gaze drops to my mouth. Shit. The urge to kiss her is overwhelming. I start to tilt my head towards her—and then she’s pushed abruptly away as a passing partygoer rams into her.

She yelps, stumbling on her heels, and I grab her shoulders to steady her. The clumsy guest apologizes profusely and I wave him off. “You okay?”

“Sure.” But I can’t help but notice she looks a little off after that. There’s a tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before and she’s holding her arms at an odd angle, stiff and hunched over the front of her body. Defensive. Like she’s trying to protect herself from the crowd around us.

“Hey, isn’t that your friend?” I ask, catching sight of the vaguely familiar short blonde who I’m pretty sure had been with Eva in my shop.

“That’s Marissa,” she agrees. But she doesn’t relax at all. If anything, she seems even more tense. “And now I know why she didn’t come back to find me.”

Marissa is talking to a man with slicked back hair and an unnaturally orange tan. Though talking isn’t really the right word—she looks close to screaming at the guy, waving her arms around animatedly, sloshing the liquid in the drinks she holds in each hand.

The guy must catch sight of us because he tries to dart around Marissa. She holds her ground though, planting herself directly in his way.

“Who is that?” I dislike him on sight. He looks slimy and pushy and I don’t like the way his too-tanned face is reddening while he argues with Marissa, obviously trying to get towards Eva.

“That’s my manager,” she says on a sigh. “He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.” She hunches even further into herself. “I should probably go talk to him.” Her tone and body language make me like him even less—she’s clearly uncomfortable.

Before Eva can cross the room, Marissa points a finger in the guy’s face then turns and heads in our direction. The guy stays back but he obviously isn’t happy about his, his face red while he mutters to himself and glares over at us.

“Dennis is here,” Marissa says easily, as if we hadn’t just watched her arguing with him. “Don’t worry, I told him to keep his distance.”

“That’s gonna last,” Eva mutters. “Let me guess—he’s not pleased by my performance so far this evening?”

Marissa rolls her eyes. “He thinks you should be networking more. He can also go fuck himself.” Her eyes flick between the two of us, zeroing in on my hand still pressed against Eva’s lower back, and her lips curve up in a smile. “But I’m far more interested in what’s happening over here.”

Eva rolls her eyes. “Mar, you remember Will from the tattoo shop?” The woman passes one of the drinks out to Eva so she can shake my hand. “Will, this is my PA, Marissa.”

“PA,” Marissa scoffs. “I’m your BFF and everyone knows it.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Tattoo shop guy, huh? Fancy meeting you here.”

“Will’s mother runs this charity,” Eva explains.

“Is that right?” Marissa’s eyes scan me, appraising. “So why didn’t you call my friend, Tattoo Boy? That was pretty cold, you know.”

Eva groans. “Ignore her. She can’t survive if she’s not meddling in my life.”

“Hey, my meddling is the reason the douche canoe isn’t over here hounding you.”

“Dennis isn’t that bad.” But she tenses again. “And he’s probably right. I should get out there and remind some people that I still exist.”

The teasing glint immediately leaves Marissa’s eye, replaced by concern. “You don’t need to do that yet. You can relax for a while. Finish your drink.”

“Have you eaten yet?” I ask.

“No,” Eva admits. “But I think I should get this part over with first. Then I can relax later.” She shoots me a sheepish look. “I’m not great at the whole social-interaction-with-strangers thing these days.”

I think about the way she had become so uncomfortable when that guy bumped into her, how skittish she seemed by the crowd. Marissa no longer looks merely concerned—I think she’s genuinely scared about the prospect of Eva going around to talk to guests.

“Hey, if you need to network, I can help with that,” I say, the obvious solution taking shape in my mind. I could recruit my dad or any of my uncles to help, but I’m not sure that would make her entirely comfortable—she seemed pretty tongue tied by meeting Cash Ransome. Luckily, they aren’t the only rock stars I know in this room.

“Let’s go meet my aunt,” I suggest. “She’ll take you around to whoever you want to talk to.”

Marissa raises an eyebrow. “Who’s your aunt?”

“Haylee Hunt.”

Both women stare at me, eyes wide with shock, Eva’s mouth gaping open. “Haylee Hunt is your aunt?” she squeaks, then slaps her forehead. “What am I thinking, of course she is. She’s married to Lennon Ransome.”

“What did you say your name was, Tattoo Boy?” Marissa asks, eyes narrowed as she looks me up and down.

I grin at her. “Will Ransome. You might have heard of my father, Cash.”

“Well, that’s an interesting development,” Marissa mutters.

I ignore her, turning to Eva. “Aunt Haylee is awesome,” I tell her. “She’s totally chill, and she’s great at charming all the suits. That and scaring them into submission. Either way, she’ll take care of you.”

The more I think about it, the more perfect it seems. Haylee went through some shit early in her career—a terrifying encounter with a stalker—and she’s struggled with crowds and feeling overwhelmed in the past. She’s much more comfortable with the whole scene now, but I have a feeling she’ll be more than understanding about whatever it is that seems to scare Eva about being here tonight.

“I can’t just go over there and talk to Haylee Hunt,” Eva whispers, eyes wide as saucers. “She’s like…she’s like my freaking idol.”

I snort. “She’s also the person who always burns the waffles at Sunday brunch and refuses to interact with her children before she has coffee in the morning. She’s a regular person, Eva.” I take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “She can help you with this.”

Eva shoots a terrified, questioning glance at Marissa, who nods encouragingly. “I’ll run interference, make sure the asshole doesn’t get in your way.”

Eva’s eyes are still wide and nervous, but she nods, swallowing hard. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Awesome.” I tug on her hand. “Let’s get this over with and then we can get some food in you.”

I spot my Aunt Haylee right away, the overhead lights catching on her nose and eyebrow piercings. Unsurprisingly, her husband is with her, making those disgusting gooey love eyes my cousins and I like to rag them over.

“Will!” Uncle Lennon calls when he sees me, face breaking into a smile. He slaps my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, kid. Where have you been hiding all night?”

“As far away from my parents as I can get,” I tell him, leaning in to kiss my aunt’s cheek. “Mom kept trying to comb my hair.”

Lennon chuckles. “Looks just fine to me.” His eyes travel over to Eva, widening a little, surprise evident in his expression. The reaction is just what I expected. My family isn’t used to seeing me with a woman. Not anymore.

“You guys, this is Eva Lidell,” I say, nudging her forward from her hiding spot halfway behind my back. “Eva, this is my Uncle Lennon and my Aunt Haylee.”

“Hello,” Eva squeaks out. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” Uncle Lennon says, his eyes darting back to me. I ignore the question in his gaze and turn to my aunt. “I was wondering—”

But she nudges me away to move closer to the girl at my side. “Eva,” she says warmly, taking both her hands. “I’m such a big fan.”

Eva actually sways next to me, like she’s going to pass out, and her voice is even more high pitched when she whispers, “you know who I am?”

Aunt Haylee laughs, releasing her. “Of course I do. I have to keep my eye on the upcoming talent, you know. Watch out for the competition. You can really sing, girl.”

Seeing the way Eva’s face lights up at the compliment, I’m tempted to throw my arms around my aunt in thanks. But I play it cool, for Eva’s sake. “This is her first event in a while,” I explain. “Her manager wants her to make the rounds.” I meet Haylee’s eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of the issue. “I was hoping you could introduce her to a few people?”

Aunt Haylee’s gaze is knowing, and I realize that she’s probably more familiar with Eva’s history than I had been. I’ve basically tuned out the entire music world for the past few years while Haylee has been right in the middle of it.

“Of course we can do that,” she says easily. “I know what a drag the whole networking thing can be, but we’ll keep each other company.” She holds out her arm and when Eva slips her hand through it, I can see that her fingers are trembling. “Come on. Let’s go charm some assholes.”

“Thanks, Will,” Eva murmurs as she passes me, clinging to my aunt’s arm. I watch them for a long moment, Haylee guiding Eva gently around the room, easily pushing her way into a group of people that I’m pretty sure includes the top radio DJ in Los Angeles.

“So,” Uncle Lennon says from behind me, voice heavy with meaning, and I jump a little. I’d been so caught up in watching them that I almost forgot he was here. I turn back to him, gaze wary.

“Can we skip the part where you get all up in my business and report back to the rest of the olds?”

He laughs. “The olds, huh? I’m hurt.”

“If the shoe fits, man.”

His expression sobers. “She’s a singer, huh?”

A cold slither of unease slides into my belly. “Yeah.”

He watches me with familiar, warm brown eyes for a long moment and I try not to wince. Lennon is definitely the most perceptive of my uncles. He’s also the most compassionate, and he must be able to tell how little I want to discuss this, because he merely claps me on the shoulder again.

“Speaking of the olds, I was about to go track down Levi. You want to come with?”

“Uh, I think I’ll pass.” Already my gaze has drifted back to Eva. She looks a hell of a lot more comfortable now, shaking hands and chatting. Relief warms my chest.

“You know I’m always around if you want to talk about anything,” Uncle Lennon murmurs softly, and I tense.

“Yeah,” I mutter, voice rough. “I know.”

He watches me for a moment. “Come by the house sometime. Your cousins miss you.”

I shift on my feet, uncomfortable. “I see my cousins on a weekly basis.”

“Yes,” he says smoothly, not deterred. “You see them at your apartment or out somewhere. You hardly ever come back to the neighborhood.”

Meaning—you hardly ever see your uncles. Your dad.

“Sure,” I say, anything to end this conversation. “I’ll stop by soon.”

I’m sure he doesn’t believe me, but he takes pity on me. “Okay. See you around, kid.” Then he slaps my shoulder one last time and heads off in search of Levi.

I stand there alone for a minute, just watching Eva, probably looking like a creep. I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from her, though, and I have no idea what it is about this girl that I find so damn magnetic.

“Hello, cousin,” Rose says, snapping me out of my reverie as she takes Lennon’s spot at my side. “You’re looking quite preoccupied.”

I don’t bother responding, knowing without turning my head that she’ll follow my gaze and guess who I’m looking at. Hell, I’d put money on the fact that she’s already seen us together and figured out who Eva is, even though I never mentioned our encounter at the tattoo shop—an anomaly for us. We usually talk about everything.

But I’m sure Rose will be able to read exactly what I’m feeling in my expression right now.

Sure enough, she slips a hand into mine, squeezing, and her voice is soft when she asks, “you know who she is, right?”

I face my best friend and nod. Rose studies me, searching my expression for something. “And that doesn’t worry you?”

I glance back to Eva once again, my eyes somehow able to track her no matter where she is in the room. Aunt Haylee leans in to say something in her ear and, as I watch, Eva tips her head back, laughing. The memory of her surprisingly husky laugh cuts through me, hot and sharp.

“It scares the shit out of me,” I mutter, voice as heavy as the feeling in my chest. But I’m pretty sure I’m too far gone now to care.