Ray.

~~~

The next day the rehearsal space was charged with an uneasy energy, like a thunderstorm waiting to break. Elena sat cross-legged on one end of the worn leather couch, her electric guitar balanced on her lap as she fine-tuned the strings. Across from her, Andrew paced the room, his bass slung low around his hips, the strap twisted as if he'd been yanking at it. Logan leaned against the far wall, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his face unreadable.

I stood near the center, guitar in hand, trying to keep my voice even. "Alright, let's run through 'Northern Lights' again. We need to nail the outro this time—it's been shaky the last few shows."

Elena's head snapped up, her dark eyes narrowing. "Shaky? I've been playing it clean. Maybe Logan needs to keep his beats steady for once."

Logan glared at her. "Excuse me? My beats have been fine. Maybe you should stop overcomplicating your solos and focus on the rhythm."

Elena snorted, a bitter smile curling her lips. "Overcomplicating? It's called having flair, Logan. Look it up."

I took a deep breath, the tension rolling off them in waves. "Enough," I said, my voice firm but not loud. They both fell silent, but their glares could have sparked a fire between them.

Andrew stopped, stepping forward. "Ray's right. We don't have time for this petty crap. Let's just get through the setlist."

For a second, I thought his calm tone might diffuse the situation, but Logan shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. "Petty crap? You're one to talk, Andrew. You've been checked out for weeks. You barely say a word to any of us unless it's about the music."

Andrew's jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms again. "I'm here, aren't I? Maybe you should focus on yourself instead of worrying about what I'm doing."

"Guys, come on," I interjected, but the words fell flat against the rising tide of anger in the room.

The air felt suffocating, the kind of heavy that made every breath feel like a struggle. My hands tightened on my guitar, my nails biting into the wood as I searched for the right thing to say, something that could cut through the tension without making things worse.

Elena stood, slinging her guitar over her shoulder with a sharp movement. "If this is how it's going to be, maybe I should just leave. God knows I don't need this kind of drama."

"Then go," Logan snapped, his voice echoing against the walls.

"That's enough!" I finally shouted, louder than I intended. The room went silent, all eyes turning to me. My chest heaved with the effort of holding it all in, and now that the words were spilling out, I couldn't stop them. "Do you even hear yourselves? We're supposed to be a band, a team. But all I see is a group of people tearing each other apart."

Elena looked away, her jaw tight, while Logan's shoulders slumped slightly, his anger deflating into something closer to shame. Andrew's expression remained unreadable, but he didn't meet my gaze.

"This isn't just about tonight," I continued, my voice softer now but no less strained. "I've felt it for weeks. The cracks in the way we work together, the way we talk to each other. And if we don't get it together, it's going to ruin us—not just as a band but as people."

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one spoke. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the shouting that had filled the space moments before.

Andrew finally broke it, his voice low. "You're right, Ray. But maybe this isn't something we can fix overnight."

I nodded, the weight in my chest pressing harder. "I know. But we have to start somewhere."

Elena exhaled, her posture relaxing slightly as she unclipped her guitar strap. "Fine. I'll stay. But Logan, you need to stop acting like everything's my fault."

Logan ran a hand through his hair, muttering, "Yeah. Sure." It wasn't much of an apology, more like a sarcastic agreement. And for the love of God, I couldn't figure out what the issues were.

Logan was not keen on taking on Elena but there had to be more than just that it has been weeks. Logan didn't say anything more, just picked up his drumsticks and returned to his kit.

"Let's take it from the top," I said, my voice steadier now. "And this time, let's play like we actually want to be here."

We ran through the song again, and though it wasn't perfect, it was better. The tension didn't completely disappear—it lingered in the stolen glances, the occasional sharp tone—but at least we were playing.

When the rehearsal ended, I lingered in the room, packing up my gear slowly as the others filed out. Andrew was the last to leave, pausing in the doorway.

"Good call earlier," he said, his tone neutral but his expression unreadable.

"Thanks," I replied, though it felt hollow. There was so much I wanted to ask him, to say, but the words caught in my throat. He gave a small nod and left, leaving me alone in the quiet.

I slumped onto the couch, my guitar case leaning against my knee. The weight of the night pressed down on me, and I could feel the cracks widening, the pressure building. The band wasn't the only thing falling apart; I could feel it in myself, in the way my thoughts spiraled and my emotions frayed.

Later I went back to the hotel to get some sleep before a big show tomorrow. The hotel suite was dimly lit, the city lights outside casting fractured patterns on the walls. The muffled hum of traffic drifted in through the cracked window, blending with the faint rustle of curtains stirred by a lazy breeze.

I sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the half-empty glass of whiskey on the nightstand. The burn of it still lingered on my tongue, but it hadn't done much to dull the ache in my chest.

Behind me, I heard the bathroom door creak open, and soft footsteps padded across the carpet. Samantha appeared in my peripheral vision, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders, the faint scent of coconut clinging to her skin. She was wearing that damn silky black robe the fabric hanging loose over her frame.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, her voice quiet, careful.

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak yet. She hesitated for a moment before crossing the room to sit beside me, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight.

"What's going on, Ray?" she asked gently, her hand resting lightly on my arm. Her touch was warm, and grounding, and I leaned into it without meaning to.

I let out a long breath, the kind that felt like it was dragging everything inside me out with it. "I don't even know where to start," I admitted, my voice low and strained.

"Try," she urged, her tone soft but firm.

"Elena and Logan can't stop fighting. Andrew's been distant like he's carrying something he won't let anyone else see. And me? I'm just trying to keep it all together, but it feels like I'm holding onto pieces of a puzzle that don't fit anymore." I ran a hand through my hair, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "And then there's us. I don't want to mess this up, love. I don't want to lose you."

Her hand tightened on my arm, her touch anchoring me as my voice cracked. "Ray," she said softly, her tone laced with a mix of sadness and understanding. "You're not going to lose me, our journey just started, we have a huge road ahead of us, but I believe in us and this is just a part of that journey. And because you are feeling this way I need to tell you something."

"Tell me something?" I asked my pulse racing.

"Logan supposed to talk to you..." she trailed off. "He and Elena have been hooking up."

"What?" I asked my eyes wide in disbelief, whatever buzz I felt from the whiskey vanished away. "They hate each other. And you didn't tell me? We promised no secrets—big or small—and this is huge."

"I know," Sam gave me an apologetic smile. "I saw them last night. It was in one of the dark corners backstage. They didn't see me, but I saw enough. And I asked Logan to tell you."

"We can't keep her now," I stood up, grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring another shot.

"Keep her?"

I sipped the drink, the sting soothing my very exhausted throat. "James is coming back for the American tour, and now that we are almost done with Europe we don't really need Eelena, she is supposed to be a temporary solution for this tour."

"You want to add..."

"Yeah," my voice came with a deep sigh. "But it seemed like the problems in the band started with her, not sure what is up with Andrew." I raised an eyebrow, looking at her.

Sam stayed silent, but her face told me all, she knew something. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, my best friend apparently trusted her more than me at this point.

"I don't know this for sure..." she trailed off, still nibbling the inside of her cheek. I sat down beside her again, taking her hand, and drawing soothing circles on the top of her hand. "I am pretty sure it has something to do with Molly," I raised my eyebrow in question, I knew they made out, once, months ago. "Something happened during my birthday trip."

"Something?"

"Neither of them told me anything if that is what you thinking, but Andrew is preoccupied for sure, on his phone, didn't you notice that?" I nodded in agreement, taking another gulp of the whiskey.

"Okay," I said after a moment of silence. "Here's the plan. I'll talk to Andrew. I need to know what's been going on with him. Then I'll deal with Logan, if they really hooking up it's not Elena that is the issue, it's Logan, and his past with David."

Sam's smile widened, a mixture of pride and affection shining in her eyes. "That sounds like a good start."

"And tonight," I added, reaching for her hand and threading my fingers through hers, "we'll celebrate. Just us. No distractions, no band drama, no tours. Just you and me, love."

She laughed softly, the sound light and full of promise. "I like the sound of that." She grabbed the whiskey glass and put it on the nightstand.

I looked up at her as she straddled me, unstrapping the robe. No matter how many times I saw her naked, I inhaled deeply observing her alluring curves. She leaned in and kissed me, tender at first but as her hands roomed my naked chest, the kiss deepened. I leaned back, dragging her with me as I cupped her cheek, inhaling the scent of coconut.

Flipping us over, I hovered above her. "We still ditching the condoms, right?" I asked as my hand traveled between her legs, brushing her clit with my thumb.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

"What was that, love?" I said, teasing her clit, peppering kisses on the sensitive skin on her neck.

"Right there!" she moaned, making me smile, and curve the two fingers in her soaked pussy. "And ditching the condoms," she added with another moan as I rolled her stiff nipple between my lips. "God!"

I speeded up my finger movements, as Sam buckled her hips, dragging my face to hers and capturing my lips with hers. The heat in my body rose as she nibbled my bottom lip, moaning my name as a silent prayer. Her delicate hand brushed the tip of my dick, giving a few firm strokes.

"I want you," she cried out, dragging me on top of her. When the woman said that no guy can say no, I smiled, brushing the tip of my dick through her wetness. "Ray!" She had a clear limit to my teasing as I stroked my dick up and down through her slit a few times, giving a swirl on her clit as well. "Please."

And that was what I needed, my hips moved with the powerful thrust as her pussy clenched around my length. I gripped her hips firmly as her head fell back, her body crumbling under me. Time faded away, with moans and grunts, igniting touches, kisses, and everything in between.

We lay in peaceful silence for a while, my body still tingling with orgasm. As Sam cradled to my chest, I stoked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you," she whispered in a hoarse voice, drifting to sleep.

With Samantha at my side, the future felt wide open, full of promise and possibility. I cradled her closer feeling her warmth and her steady presence beside me, and I smiled.

She was right our journey wasn't over. In fact, it was just beginning.

~~The End~~

Authors note: 

Thank you for reading The Reckless Collision this story is a part of the Reckless Hearts saga, a series of novels that can be read as a standalone or as a series. 

Reckless Hearts is your backstage pass to the fiery lives of Purple Rain, the rock band turning heads and stealing hearts in sunny Los Angeles. Each standalone novel plunges into the passion, secrets, and explosive chemistry of music's brightest stars. Dive into a world where love is messy, fame is a double-edged sword, and the stakes are always sky-high. 

I have high hopes to finish the next part of this saga The Reckless Intrusion at the end of 2025, so if you are interested in reading what truly happened between Logan and Elena I suggest following me since any news about the book can be seen that way.