by Kylie Walker
Asher and Colton banged their fists against the top of the table. Trevor was happier at that moment than he had been in a long time. He never wanted this adrenaline high to end.
They were brought round after round of beers and shots to celebrate the springing off of their tour. Trevor felt appreciated, adored and maybe even a little worshiped. As far as he was concerned, nothing could burst his bubble of joy.
“Damn, I love being famous.” Roman appeared, adjusting his crotch as he slid in next to Trevor.
“Did you seriously just get a blow job from that woman?”
Roman shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Trevor shook his head. Roman was a ladies-man, but he was good at doing it on the sly. Once he had his eye on someone, he was rabid about it. Wouldn’t change focus until the conquest had been made. Maybe one day he would find “the one” and settle down. But for now, they had too much music to make.
Roman settled into his seat with a relaxed smile. “Shit, Trev. We’ve come a long way from those days of egging houses and sneaking out of the house.”
“Well, I’d probably be rotting in the ground by now if it wasn’t for you and your family taking me in.” Trevor smiled at his best friend, swelling with emotion that came out of nowhere. What the hell?
“I know buddy.” Roman slapped Trevor’s shoulder. “So, you gonna tell me what’s up with you and Emelia?”
Trevor kept a neutral expression. No way was he acknowledging that. “What do you think of Grant?”
“Grant Pierce? The sound guy?” Roman furrowed his brows. “I don’t know. I’m not into men, but I appreciate you looking out for a brother.”
Trevor laughed. “Not that way,” he said. “I don’t know; he seems a little...off or something.”
Roman shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “What do you care?”
“I don’t,” Trevor shot back defensively. “I just want to make sure we have the best guy for the job.”
He couldn’t keep his mind from recalling the deliciously red and kissable lips of Grant’s girlfriend, Emelia.
Sure, he had flirted with Emelia a couple of times, but that was still harmless in his opinion. He would just have to find a way to step back and live life in the moment. For now, that entailed staying up until dawn, celebrating with his band brothers. Life was good, and it was only going to get sweeter from here.
With or without her.
Chapter Six
A soft drizzle pattered against the window. Emelia watched from the passenger seat as little droplets of water slid down the glass and disappeared into oblivion, one after the next in a rhythmic, trance-like pattern.
“You’re quiet,” Grant mentioned, slicing through the silence between them on the ride back to their suburban ranch home on the outskirts of Chicago. Since the band had played their first gig right here in Chicago, Emelia was glad for the chance to spend one more night in her own home before they left for Philadelphia tomorrow.
Emelia turned to look at him. His face was partially hidden in shadows as the tree lined streets became rushed by.
“I guess.” She wasn’t sure how to respond. One moment, she had been pumped with adrenaline after Infinity’s first, knockout performance. The next, she had been backed into a corner by Trevor, and the whole thing left a bitter taste in her mouth. Grant hadn’t been quiet himself, though the tension he had been carrying all night had faded.
Grant shrugged and sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than before. “It just seems like you are mad or something.”
Emelia frowned. “I’m not mad at you.” She shot him a feeble attempt at a smile, but she wasn’t sure if it would be a convincing enough gesture of reassurance for him. He was a hard one to satisfy.
“Are you sure?” He pressed with raised eyebrows.
“Why are you so paranoid all of a sudden?”
He was quiet for a moment. “It seemed like you wanted to stay at the party and I made you leave,” he said in a hushed voice as if he were afraid of admitting his fears out loud.
Emelia shifted her weight against the seat. “Just for the record, nobody forces me to do anything I don’t want to. If I had wanted to take pics of the band at Pour Kingdom, believe me, I would have.”
She watched Grant’s grimace in reaction but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. She wasn’t in the mood for a petty argument. No, she felt hollow inside. Disappointed by Trevor’s attitude.
The headlights of the car lit up the red brick front of their home.
“Home sweet home,” Emelia breathed as she leaned down to grab her purse with one hand and clutched the passenger door handle with the other.
“Wait a second.” Grant stopped her by gripping onto her knee and holding her so tightly that her skin turned white from where his fingers pressed into her.
“Hey,” she shouted, giving him a firm, angry stare. “What the hell, Grant? You are hurting me. Let go.”
He immediately shot his hand back to his own lap as if her skin was on fire and burned him to the touch. “Sorry. I didn’t uh...mean...”
“What’s gotten into you lately?” She interrupted. She narrowed her eyes and inspected him.
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
“Well knock it off. I’m not a fan of whatever this is.”
“I don’t mean to upset you.” Grant peered up at her with sad, puppy dog eyes. “I’ve just been stressed out lately, trying to get ready for the tour and everything.”
Emelia relaxed her shoulders and softened her demeanor. “Then why didn’t you just say that in the first place? The key to a good relationship is open communication.”
Grant snorted. “What are you, my therapist?”
“Okay, whatever.” Emelia pushed the car door open and made a move towards exiting the vehicle. His attitude was the last straw. She didn’t want to be around him if he was just going to act like a jerk. She’d had enough of that tonight.
“I’m sorry.” Grant pulled her back gently by the edge of her skirt. “It was just a joke.”
Emelia gave him a sour look. “No. Not really.”
He leaned his head back against the headrest and blew out a sigh, staring straight ahead. The car was still running, the engine running at a low hum. The windshield wipers softly swayed back and forth every few seconds, washing the rain off with a squeaky sound as it moved against the glass.
“I just want you to be happy,” he whispered.
“I am happy,” she countered.
He gave her a look as if to say he didn’t believe her, but that he had no choice but to take her word for it.
“You wanted to stay there. With Trevor.”
“Grant!” Emelia, she clenched her eyes. “Come on. It’s too late to fight.”
“I don’t want to fight,” Grant argued. “I wanted you to be able to celebrate with the band.”
“Then why didn’t we both go for one beer? I could have taken their pics, and you could have enjoyed yourself.”
Grant laughed as he continued to avoid eye contact with her and gazed out the window as if he were in some kind of trance.
“I don’t trust them,” he said sourly.
“Trust who?” Emelia shook her head in confusion.
“Any guy in that band.” He chuckled ironically.
“What are you so scared of?” Emelia pressed. He had already mentioned Trevor, and honestly, he wasn’t wrong for being a little skeptical, jealous even. She had conflicted feelings about the frontman herself.
She glanced at the moon from out Grant’s window. It was beautifully full now. She was exhausted, but she knew that it was no use in going inside until Grant got whatever was eating him up out of his system.
Grant smirked at her. “You can’t tell me you are that naïve?”
“You are not making any sense,” she hissed, growing increasingly irritated with his vagueness.
“All they want are tits and beer!” He shouted as if he were proclaiming law in a courtroom sett
ing. He threw his hands up.
“Are you kidding?”
“Fame gets to people’s heads,” Grant said scornfully.
Emelia hesitated. “Are you...jealous of them? Worried that I’m going to step out on you?”
“Maybe.” His face grew angry. “Yes. Yes, I am. How do I know they won’t try anything on you?”
Emelia swallowed hard. She thought of how Trevor had picked her up and spun her around tonight. How much she had loved the feeling of his arms around her body.
She crossed her arms over her chest as if to hold the guilt inside. “It sounds like I’m the one you don’t trust.”
Silence passed between them, though the anger rolling off Grant was enough to fill the space.
“Grant?” Emelia leaned in closer to her boyfriend, hoping she could stave off a further argument. She should just give him the benefit of the doubt. If the tables were turned, she would have just been as jealous as he was.
“Come on Grant,” she said and squeezed his hand, aiming for a truce before bed. “It’s getting late. Let’s go inside and get some sleep.”
“Sure.” He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car.
Emelia sighed. She was proud of herself for managing to sidestep a land mine, at least for tonight.
“Just so you know,” she mentioned after the fact as they walked inside and out of the rain. “I wanted to go with you.”
“You did?” Surprise flashed across Grant’s face, and his eyes lit up.
“Yep.” She nodded with a smile. “You’re my boyfriend. Of course, I want to be with you.” Even if Trevor’s face wouldn’t get out of her head. “Plus, we have too much to do tomorrow to have hangovers.”
Grant laughed as he wandered over to the fridge to grab a water bottle from the inside door. “Tell me about it.” Those guys are going to be sorry tomorrow.”
Emelia glanced at a magnet on the fridge in the shape of a lobster. The keepsake had been a souvenir they’d brought back after a trip to Maine last summer to visit his parents. Next to it was a picture of her and Grant at a concert for a band he had been hired on with the previous summer. Grant was beaming, grinning from ear to ear. His arms were wrapped around Emelia, squeezing her tight with affection while the band played behind them.
Maybe her life with Grant wasn’t so bad after all. Sure, he had gotten a little rough around the edges at the party tonight. Perhaps they were just hitting a little rough patch or something. He wasn’t a bad guy and had always treated her with respect. She needed to give him a chance and work through his inner demons, and she needed to work through the guilt over seeing Trevor’s handsome face every time she closed her eyes.
“You did us both a favor,” she croaked. Her voice sounded scratchy and throaty at this late hour. She really couldn’t wait to collapse onto the pillow and instantly fall asleep.
“What do you mean?” Grant planted his elbows against the counter and leaned over. He stretched across the way to plant a kiss on her lips.
“Instead of partying until dawn, we get to crawl into bed and cuddle.”
Grant laughed and drummed his fingertips against the counter. “How old are we?”
Emelia couldn’t help it. She laughed too. “Older than twenty-five, apparently. Come on.” She walked around the side of the bar counter and patted Grant on the arm. It would be dawn soon. “Let’s get to bed.”
If she could manage to drift off to dreamland without her mind skirting back to Trevor’s handsome smile, she just might be able to drift off. She had a peculiar gift for blending dreams with reality, but she didn’t want to walk through that door.
Not yet.
Chapter Seven
Trevor grabbed for his phone where it rang on his nightstand.
The sound had jolted him awake. His heart slammed in his chest as he pressed the answer button.
“We gotta hop the bus and head to Philly. Get your ass up.” Colton sounded overtly peppy.
Trevor pushed himself up against the headboard. He rubbed his aching temples and wished that the blaring sun wasn’t so bright coming through his penthouse windows. How did morning come so fast?
“What time is it?” He groaned.
“Almost eleven.”
“Shit.” Trevor couldn’t believe he had slept that late. “We had a wild night last night, eh?”
“We were celebrating,” Colton gently reminded him.
“Right.” Trevor nodded with chagrin. “Hell, I can barely move.”
“That’s because you were dancing on the bar and you fell.”
“I fell?”
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s all over social media by now. Great publicity, boss.”
Trevor tried to recall that little mishap but couldn’t.
“I’m getting up. Did you need something else?”
“The guys want lunch. Grease and carbs and bloody Mary’s. Meet us. One hour.” Colton gave the address, sounding way too alert to be suffering from last night’s celebration.
“How the hell are you not hung over?” Trevor asked suspiciously.
“I drank tons of water and threw back two aspirin when I got home,” Colton admitted.
“Of course.” Trevor threw his hands into the air. “That old trick still works, huh?”
“I guess so,” Colton chuckled. “Are you in or out?”
Trevor took a long, deep breath. “Yeah. I’m in. Be there in thirty.”
Trevor hung up, hoping that a steamy shower would at least help get him up and moving. He texted his driver a time to meet him, then got his ass in gear. The shower felt too hot. Cars outside the apartment beeped too loudly. The sun was too damn bright!
Shit, he was getting too old for this.
Throwing on old jeans and a worn tee-shirt, he slipped into his boots, grabbed his packed duffle and headed down to the waiting car. Having a driver and a limo was new, but hell was it sweet. Getting through downtown Chicago had never been easier. As a kid, he would ride the subway or walk where ever he needed to go. Only the wealthy hired drivers and no one in his memory had every taken a limo.
Now he had both.
Observing out the window as they drove, he thought of Emelia. Her family hadn’t had money for luxuries like limos. Hell, he didn’t know much about her back then and he sure as hell didn’t now. She had two brothers of course, well, one. The one who had survived, he had moved away. The other had been buried six feet under. He’d been by her house once. It had been modest. Simple. Cozy in that way homes are when they’re filled with a loving family.
And then, he’d changed that.
“Here we are, sir.”
Trevor snapped a look at the driver as he parked in front of the restaurant. Giving his brain a moment to reset, he waited for the driver to open his door and fetch his duffle. He had no sooner slung the bag over his shoulder when a small mob of paparazzi hurried toward him, cameras flashing.
“Trevor! Trevor Jameson, over here!”
The attention took him by surprise. He smiled for a beat, letting them click a flurry of pics before he hurried into the building. He found the others in the far back, aware of the stares and whispers as he walked through the restaurant. Trevor smiled. Would he ever get used to this?
“What’s up?” He pulled out a chair next to Roman and tossed his bag on the floor. A security guard stood watch by the table, hands crossed in front of him, legs spread wide apart. He gave Trevor a quick nod.
Their waitress was a petite thing with thick blonde hair piled high on her head. Her grin was infectious, and he could tell she was holding back her enthusiasm over having them at her table in order to keep it professional. Her cheeks pinked as she took their order. Colton flirted with her a little, making her gush and tremble. Trevor pulled his sunglasses down from the top of his head and covered his eyes. He’d had enough adoration for one day. He wanted his bed and lot of peace and quiet to get rid of this hangover.
“Oh my God, it’s really them!”
The sound of you
ng female voices shrieking behind their table cut right through his head. One of the women approached as far as the bodyguard would let her, her eyes wide and hopeful.
Trevor grimaced. She and her friends wouldn’t stop making those horrible noises until they appeased them.
“Hey, come here.” He waved her over. She glanced back at her friends. “Yes, all of you. Come here.”
Pulling a pen from his back pocket, Trevor signed his name on a couple napkins from the table and passed them around to his band members.
“Hello, ladies.” Asher turned lazily in his chair and gave them a wink as he handed them the signed napkins, which only resulted in more shrieking.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“Can you sign my shirt?”
Before Trevor could respond to the request, one of the women hurried over to him and lifted her shirt, revealing a very nice set of breasts cupped in pink satin.
“On second thought, can you sign my bra?”
She handed him a Sharpie and did a little jiggle. Her breasts bounced, drawing every eye at the table and then some. Trevor sat upright and cleared his throat. Taking the marker, he made quick work of scrawling his name over the cup of her left breast.
“Alright ladies, time’s up.” The bodyguard shooed them away.
“Thanks for coming.” Lucas gave them a send-off wave.
Trevor grunted. “Thanks for coming? This isn’t a damn album signing. It’s breakfast.”
Lucas sank in his chair and spread his hands with a wicked grin. “Hey, if the ladies are going to take their time to rub their adoration and titties all over me, who am I not to be polite?”
“Just because you’re hung up on a chick you can’t have. Dun, dun, dun.”
Asher’s comment drew all eyes to him. Roman put his elbows on the table and accepted a Bloody Mary from the waitress.
“You know, Burt mentioned some appearances and signings coming up. Have we seen that schedule yet?”
“Way to change the subject,” Lucas said casually as he stuffed a hot and crispy French fry into his mouth.
“He didn’t discuss it with me, but we’d better review it. Our time is getting thin as it is.”
