Taming the Storm (The Storm #3)(34)
Author: Samantha Towle

Ladies’ man of rock and The Mighty Storm’s bassist, Tom Carter was caught cheating by his girlfriend in a bar last night. According to onlookers, Tom was flirting up a storm with a leggy blonde. Before leaving with her, his girlfriend came storming over. We have confirmed his girlfriend is Lyla Summers, lead singer of up and coming band, Vintage.

A patron at the bar said, “She was wailing at him, calling him a liar and a cheat. Then, she threw her drink all over him and left. Tom went chasing after her.”

If only he would come chasing after us!

Right now, we should thank the storm gods because someone caught the full action on video.

For the full stormy show, watch below.

Oh, holy crapping mother of God.

Sixty Seconds Later—Lyla’s Bedroom, Tour Bus, St. Louis

“Are you fucking Lyla?” Jake’s hard voice comes at me the instant I press the phone to my ear.

Unwilling to have this conversation in front of an audience, I wait until I’ve shut the bedroom door before responding.

“No, I’m not fucking Lyla,” I grind out.

“Are you saying what you think I wanna hear or the truth?”

I clench my jaw, shoulders stiffening. One thing I don’t ever do is lie. And I don’t like being accused of it by anyone, especially someone who knows me as well as Jake does.

“It’s the truth. Have I ever lied to you before? No, and you fucking know it. You might not like the truths I’ve told you in the past, but they were just that—the truth. So, if anything, that should one hundred percent tell you that I don’t fucking lie. Have I kissed Lyla? Yes, last night, as a matter of fact. But fucked her? No.” Sadly.

“Jesus, Thomasina. Calm the fuck down. Are you PMSing right now?”

“Ha!” I laugh. “Not fucking likely. I’m not the one who’s grown a vagina, remember?”

“Screw you.” He laughs.

The tension I felt with Jake is gone, but there’s still some remaining, and it has everything to do with a certain little blonde out there.

“So, I’m guessing you haven’t been on the Internet this morning?” Jake asks.

“No. Do I need to?”

“Yeah. There’s a video doing the rounds on all the gossip sites, showing you and Lyla in a bar last night. You know, the bar where you were with some blonde chick, and Lyla was yelling at you before she proceeded to chuck a drink all over you—which was perfectly timed, might I add. Tru just showed me the video.”

There’s a video of that?

Of course, there’s a video of it.

“Shit,” I exhale.

“What happened, man?”

I press the heel of my hand against my eye, rubbing it. “It was something and nothing. Lyla just had this bet with Sonny that I wouldn’t score with the blonde I was talking to. She doesn’t like to lose, so she made sure she didn’t.”

Jake lets out a laugh. “Jesus, she’s a live wire that one.”

“Yeah. No fucking kidding.”

“So, did you kiss her before or after the beer drowning?”

“After. I chased her out of the bar. We argued. Minutes later, I had my mouth on hers. Her ass was in my hands, and her legs were wrapped around me while I dry-humped her against the side of the bus.”

Jake laughs. “And you didn’t have sex with her?”

He’s surprised, which isn’t surprising because usually nothing stops me from having sex.

“We were interrupted.”

“And when has that bothered you before?”

“I didn’t stop for my benefit, assface. Lyla’s not that kind of girl.”

And for some unfathomable reason, I didn’t want the first time I had sex with her to be against the side of this bus.

Not that I’d admit that to Jake. I’d never hear the end of it.

“Well, as interesting as it is to hear about you dry-humping the lead singer of my act, let me remind you that she is just that—the lead singer of my act. The act you’re managing.”

I rub a hand over my hair. “I know. I fucked up.”

“I wouldn’t say you fucked up. Lyla made an unwise move in the bar. But, man, come on, I know how it is on the road.”

“Yeah, but things are different. I’m trying to be different.”

Jake lowers his voice. “I know. But you don’t have to be.”

“Yeah, I do.”

There’s an unwritten silence between us.

I break it. “We need to do damage control on the video.”

“Yeah, we do. Leave it to me. I’ll get Stuart and Zane on it.” Stuart is Jake’s PA, and a fucking expert at cleaning up our messes. “I don’t know how much I can do since it’s already out there, but we’ll do something.”

“I just don’t want anything to harm Lyla’s rep.”

“No press is bad press,” Jake says.

“Yeah, I just don’t think it’s the right time for things with her to go public. If she’s linked to me, they might start digging and find out who her mom and dad are.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees.

I think we’re about to wrap up the conversation when he says, “So…you like her.”

“Lyla?”

“Yeah, Lyla.”

“You know I do. I was trying to get in her panties earlier this year, remember?”

“I remember. And I also remember that she shot you down—twice. But I’m not talking about fucking here, Tom. I mean, do you like her? ’Cause it seems she likes you now.”

I shrug. I don’t care that Jake has just said that Lyla likes me.

Why would I? I’m a guy, and guys don’t care about shit like that.

I just want to fuck her, multiple times, because she’s hot, and she has the best pair of tits I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s cool. She’s…I don’t know. I guess she’s different than other chicks.”

“Did you just admit that you actually like a woman, not just because you want to bang her?”

Shit.

“No.” I grimace.

“Yeah, you fucking did. And just so you know, I’m recording this call, so I have the evidence.”

“Fuck off. What are you? Twelve?” Still, I can’t help but smile.

He laughs. “So, should I prepare myself for more headlines then?”

That’s Jake’s way of asking if I’m going to pursue her.

I scratch my cheek. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m her manager. We’re living on a bus together.”