At every show on this tour, for a few minutes before the band went onstage, they’d had this alone time. Only the band, Jude and me were welcome in the room, and of course Brody, if he was in town.
Everyone else had to wait outside while Dirty got ready to take the stage together.
I didn’t always join into these informal little meetings, but when I did, I didn’t say much. I just stood back and kept out of the way in case I was needed.
Which was exactly what I did tonight.
Usually, Jesse busted out the bourbon and everyone except Zane and Seth did a shot right before showtime. I was pretty sure Jesse still did his pre-show shot with Katie, but he kept it on the down-low; there was definitely no booze in this room.
When it was time to hit the stage, we all headed out, Jude in the lead and me in back. But just before he went onstage, Zane reached back and caught my hand.
We were standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the stage, and while the rest of the band headed up, he gave me a hug. But he didn’t say anything.
Then he ran up there and did his thing.
I watched him perform from backstage with Katie. He looked gorgeous, as usual, with his hair all white-blond under the lights and sweat running down his face, a little smudge of black eyeliner that made his blue eyes pop. His arms looked chiseled in his sleeveless Danzig T-shirt, his shoulders broad. He was wearing charcoal-black leather pants; Zane didn’t often wear leather pants, but when he did… as he ran around the stage, they clung to him in a way that made me bite my tongue.
He was incredible tonight, and listening to him sing had my heart racing. Especially when he sang, “I’ll Go,” which they’d just added to the set list.
My heart always raced when Zane sang. But this time, my respect for him was exploding, too.
He hadn’t broken when I feared he would.
And I realized, as I watched him out there, rocking the place down—clean and sober—that I’d never actually believed he’d be able to give up pot. I’d doubted his ability to do that in every way.
To be fair, I’d never seen him totally give up pot before.
But I’d definitely never believed that he could or that he would.
The truth was, I never believed he actually wanted to.
Now, I was seeing him in a whole new light…
It had only been a few days. But Zane had stopped smoking pot, on his own, because he wanted to.
Just like that.
I was afraid it wouldn’t stick.
I was afraid he’d change his mind or fall apart or just plain fail.
But I was hopeful, too.
For the first time in… ever, I actually had hope that Zane might stay clean.
And what that could mean for us…? I wasn’t even sure I could go there yet.
But yes. It gave me hope.
It gave me even more hope, in a weird way, when at the same time he’d stopped smoking pot, he’d also stopped trying to get in my pants.
It wasn’t like he’d lost his mojo or anything.
That much was clear.
As I watched him out on that stage, he was still just as sexy as he’d ever been. And all the women out there, screaming for him? They clearly agreed with me.
Zane Traynor was as hot as ever.
Hotter.
Was that possible…?
Was it possible that I was even more attracted to him when he wasn’t coming on to me all the time?
I’d been through something like this with Zane once before, seven years ago. After I’d first come to work with Dirty and he first got sober. But even then, when he came back from rehab and was working through his recovery, he never stopped trying to get in my pants.
Never.
And he never really stopped smoking up.
This time, he hadn’t even tried to touch me or flirt with me. Not since the shit hit the fan in Vegas.
But he didn’t seem angry, either. He wasn’t acting distant or cold or mean.
He was definitely a little moody. He seemed anxious, twitchy and restless offstage. And he seemed anxious around me, for sure.
I knew it was to be expected. I’d talked to Seth a bit about marijuana withdrawal, what he knew about it, and I’d read up on it a bit.
Offstage, Zane was showing most of the signs that could be expected of someone who’d just stopped smoking, cold-turkey.
But he also seemed happy. I’d never thought of Zane as an unhappy person, until I saw him so happy right now, onstage… Though maybe happy wasn’t even the right word?
Awake, maybe.
Focused.
Present.
He seemed fully present, and it was amazing to be around.
He was vibrant up on that stage. And when he came off, he was glowing. He seemed calm, and not because a fat joint was waiting to help him get there.
His blue eyes met mine, and he walked over to me. He pulled me in for a steaming hug; he was literally dripping with sweat. His clothes were soaked. He smelled like himself times a hundred, pheromones and sex god mixed with the musk of sweat.
I hugged him back.
And before I could tell him You were amazing out there tonight, he said in my ear, “You look so pretty, Maggie.” Then he released me and he was gone, headed off to his dressing room with Shady… without even trying to grope me.
It was so entirely new and different.
And I liked it.
After the show in Salt Lake, the Hell & Back tour continued to roll smoothly along.
Night after night, Zane was incredible onstage. The whole band was incredible, and the way everyone pulled together to support Zane… it almost brought me to tears. I got choked up sometimes, just watching Dirty perform.
But I kept the tears to myself.
“Somewhere” had been released as the second single off the To Hell & Back album, and had quickly joined the “To Hell & Back” single at the top of the charts. The video for “Somewhere” was gorgeous, moving, and deceptively simple—like the song itself—featuring the members of Dirty playing the song out in the desert.
Concert footage would be filmed at our two upcoming shows in Chicago for the “Blackout” video, which would be the next single.
Things were going so well with this album and tour so far, actually, that it was exceeding all our wildest dreams. Brody and I were hopeful that this album, overall, would be Dirty’s second most successful album of all time in terms of sales and the charts; second only to Love Struck, Dirty’s debut.
And we were on track to pull it off. The tenth-anniversary angle and the strength of the songwriting that Seth and Jessa Mayes had brought back to the band were proving a major win with the fans and the industry at large.
I felt hopeful about the future, in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time.
Hopeful for Dirty.
Hopeful for myself and for Zane.
We still weren’t together. But my feelings for him hadn’t changed. By now, I knew how I felt about Zane.
I wasn’t even gonna try to kid myself about it anymore.
I wasn’t with anyone else, had never even wanted to be with anyone else since I married him, so I had no intention of being with anyone else now.
And I knew he wasn’t with anyone else, either.
The girls were still all over him; they always would be. And who could blame them? Everywhere Zane went, Shady was constantly having to peel them off.
But he wasn’t messing around—with me or anyone else.
I knew this because Talia had pretty tight tabs on him, considering she was managing his schedule. She was doing an incredible job, researching every city we were playing in advance to find AA meetings and convenient gyms for his workouts, and even picking up healthy snacks for him. She’d consult with me and I’d help organize his day, making it easy for him and Shady to navigate where they needed to be and have proper meal breaks and down time.
Zane spent a lot of time with Shady, actually, and not
just because he had to. The two of them had grown really close.
It was nice to see.
Shady was in his forties and seemed to be playing the role of a laid-back older brother in Zane’s life. A brother who made him laugh, watched his back, and genuinely cared about him.
I loved Shady for that.
And I loved Jude for hiring him.
Zane spent a lot of time with Jude, too, and Seth. He also spent more time with Jesse, and one of the incredible side effects of Zane giving up pot? Jesse Mayes found him far more tolerable a companion than he did when he was getting stoned all the time. Who knew?
Jesse and Zane were now hanging out together like I hadn’t seen them do in years… maybe since before Jesse hooked up with Elle and tensions in the band started running high.
Dylan had become Zane’s workout buddy, and instead of lazing in bed with Amber all morning, our drummer was getting up and hitting the gym with Zane. Dylan usually worked out in the afternoon; he liked to work out before he went onstage, because he was an animal like that. But he’d changed that up to fit Zane’s schedule.
As for Elle, she was coming around a lot, checking on Zane, just sitting with him and talking.
That actually did make me cry, once. Seeing him like that—spending time with a female friend he wasn’t trying to fuck, just talking about her pregnancy and whatever else she wanted to talk about.
Katie did her part, too. She baked Zane cookies.
When Dirty played Minneapolis, Katie and Jesse stayed with a friend of Jesse’s, and Katie used their kitchen to make Zane a bunch of healthy cookies with seeds and nuts and dried fruit in them. Rock god power cookies, she called them. Apparently she made them for Jesse at home, because he wouldn’t eat all the sweet stuff she baked.
They were delicious.
Really, it was incredible to me how the whole Dirty family was pitching in to support Zane, in ways I never would’ve expected.
The sense of love and care was overwhelming.
Sophie, who was younger than Zane, had seemed to take him under her wing like some doting aunt. She drank virgin Caesars with him in the mornings before he hit the gym, and soon became his unofficial hair stylist. The girl could sell merch like nobody’s business, but she definitely had some serious talent with hair; hers was always in some fabulous 1940s-era updo. She’d even managed to convince Zane to let her style his fauxhawk into a victory roll for a photo shoot.
Actually looked really cool.
Then she shaved a little heart into the short hair behind his ear, and Jesse informed him that Sophie was turning him into a pussy. I disagreed. The heart was cute. And of all the guys in the band, Zane was the only one who’d ever even tried to pull off eyeliner or nail polish, and he’d succeeded. When you were as badass as Zane Traynor was, even makeup didn’t change that. Heart or no, Zane was still badass.
Losing weed definitely hadn’t made him lose his cool.
Far from it.
I saw him before and after every show, and I watched him sticking with the program, adhering to the schedule and the regime Brody and Talia and I had laid out for him. Staying away from the bars and the parties and the fans.
Staying away from weed.
And I knew it couldn’t be easy. I knew he’d had some physical side effects, too; stomach pains and insomnia. Cravings, obviously.
Brody had a couple of doctors check in with Zane on the road, so his withdrawal was being properly monitored. The doctors had actually recommended a more gradual detox, but Zane had insisted on sticking with the cold-turkey thing.
And he was succeeding.
I would’ve known if he’d gotten high; Talia and I usually had an eye on him, and I would’ve seen it in his eyes. I would’ve smelled it. I would’ve felt it, and I would’ve known by the change in his moods.
He definitely wasn’t getting high, and it was stunning how quickly I could see the changes in him.
Without smoking up pretty much daily, like he’d been doing for so many years, he was more clearheaded. He was sharper and, as the peak of his withdrawal symptoms faded, he was way more even-keeled.
He was definitely more reasonable.
And he wasn’t as moody.
But instead of dulling his edge, it made him shine.
He smiled easily, and it wasn’t a sly, calculating smile. He wasn’t laying on the charm. He wasn’t trying to charm anyone. He was just smiling.
He laughed more, too.
But when he was close to me… he remained kind of reserved, if not anxious. His smiles were more tentative. He put his hands in his pockets and used few words, and usually moved on pretty quick. He didn’t seem to be avoiding me, exactly. But he definitely wasn’t lingering in my vicinity.
That was new.
I didn’t love it, but I wasn’t about to complain. I wasn’t going to put any kind of pressure on Zane right now, about anything.
So I let him set the tone and the direction and the duration of each conversation, each interaction.
And at the end of each night, when he gave me a quick hug and took off, I accepted it.
For fifteen nights in a row.
Yes, I counted.
On the sixteenth night, when he tried to let me go, I tightened my arms around him.
We were standing in a restaurant near our hotel after dinner, while Jesse and Dylan took care of the bill. “Wait,” I whispered. And after a moment, he softened and continued the hug. He was wearing a leather jacket, and he smelled of leather and winter and Zane.
Eventually, I let him go. He stood about a foot away from me with his hands buried in his pockets. “Good night, Maggie.”
“You’re going back to your room?” I asked him.
“Yeah.”
It was late. We’d had a late dinner, and I knew a lot of our group was heading out for drinks after this. I wasn’t sure what Madison, Wisconsin had to offer in terms of night life, especially on a frigid February night, mid-week. But whatever there was to find out there, Dirty would find it.
I could’ve gone with them, but all I wanted to do was hang with Zane.
Talk to him.
Touch him.
Shit, but I wanted to touch him.
“Do you, uh, want me to come with you?” I offered. It was the most awkward come-on in the history of women trying to get some. At least, that’s how it felt to me. I didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with trying to seduce Zane Traynor.
Usually he handled the seducing.
He just stared at me for a long moment, his jaw going kinda slack, like I’d stunned him or something.
“Maggie, uh… I don’t think—” He was cut off right there by Jesse, who chose that exact moment to toss his arm around Zane and start telling him how proud he was of him for staying the sober course and all that.
Obviously he was drunk, because Jesse only got verbal about his love for Zane after a few.
I’d never hated Jesse Mayes more.
Actually, I’d never hated Jesse at all. But right now?
I gave him an incredibly dirty look, which he didn’t even notice.
As I turned to walk away, Zane caught my hand. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his eyes on mine. Jesse’s arm was still slung around his shoulders as Zane leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek.
Jesse went right on talking to Zane as I walked away.
“Your husband’s a pussyblock,” I grumbled at Katie as I made my way past her out of the restaurant.
“Oh, shit,” she said, her eyes going wide.
What else could she say?
She knew about Zane and I being married; by now, everyone in the Dirty family did. But we hadn’t talked about it. She’d tried; I’d shut it down. Told her I wasn’t ready to talk yet.
I wasn’t sure if she was more stunned by the fact that I was trying to get in Zane’s pants or by the fact that her husband had pussyblocked me.
“Have fun tonight,” I told her. Then I left her to get drunk and laid with her hot
husband.
I disappeared back to the hotel alone, before anyone could guilt-trip me for not coming out with them.
About ten minutes later, Zane texted me.
Zane: sorry, Maggie
Zane: you surprised me
Zane: but we shouldn’t be having sex
I didn’t even know what to say to that, so I didn’t reply.
I’d told myself to let him call the shots. I just had to be patient.
Eventually, when he was ready, he’d want to be with me again… right?
Chapter Fifteen
Maggie
We pulled off the road for breakfast about an hour from Chicago and I got off my bus. I didn’t see Zane outside. I had some paperwork in my hand, some scheduling notes from Talia for him, as an excuse to talk to him.
Lame, obviously. But I was going with it.
After the whole we shouldn’t be having sex thing the other night, I was thrown for a bit of a loop.
I’d already promised myself that I’d let Zane steer the direction of things and I’d respect his needs, give him time and give him space. He had more important things to deal with right now than his fucked-up marriage to me. Which meant I had to accept the quick hugs and the general non-sexuality of our relationship.
But I’d never been outright denied access to Zane’s dick before. And I had to admit to myself that it made me feel weirdly off-kilter.
And a little nervous.
I’d never had a chance to relate to Zane like this before, and as much as I’d thought I wanted it, at times… I really didn’t.
I mean, it was nice and all, having a little break from him chasing me all the time… for a while. But yeah. I was over that now.
I could really use an ass-squeeze or a kiss or something. Anything to assure me that yes, he still felt the same about me, and yes, I was going to be able to touch him again, someday.
When I didn’t see him anywhere, I went over to his bus. I’d already seen his driver disappear into the restaurant, and I found Shady smoking a cigarette outside.
Dirty Like Zane: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 6) Page 20
