Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2)

by Trevion Burns

  When Yoshi looked to his left and locked eyes with Aria, she realized how long she’d been staring and sat taller in her seat. But she didn’t break their gaze.

  Even from the audience, she could see every shimmery speck in his big hazel eyes, every splash of light brown that seemed almost green, every sparkle of green that ebbed into gold. His eyes had always been her favorite thing about him. Not because of their startling contrast against his golden skin, but because she could never decide what color they were. She swore they evolved to match his ever-changing moods.

  He drew a hand through his hair, which remained slicked back from the sweat. When he smiled, twirling his drumsticks between his nimble fingers, the deep dimples in his shadowed jaw made themselves known. After five years, Aria still forgot those damn things were there. Every time she saw his chiseled cheeks sink deep, making room for those dimples, it felt like the first time, warming her belly.

  Yoshi nodded upward, flashing teeth that most people endured mouths full of metal to achieve, but he’d been blessed with from birth.

  “Look at him.” Shaun nodded at Yoshi. “Nothing but free pussy at every angle, and he can’t take his eyes off you. Look at that girl in the front row, flashing her boobs at him right now. He doesn’t even see her. And she has nice boobs… Wow.” Shaun frowned and looked down at her own boobs. She cupped her 32Bs with a pout.

  Aria snickered at her and then looked back to the stage.

  Yoshi’s eyes were still on her.

  --

  The first show of The White Keys’ worldwide tour went off without a hitch.

  Legs planted wide, with his signature smile illuminating his face, Yoshi bopped to the beat pounding from the tour bus stereo system, bending over the couch as he obliterated Noodle with a freestyle rap. Soon, the smile on Yoshi’s face vanished, and he was nearly nose-to-nose with Noodle, who was crouched deep into the white leather couch, knees to his chest like a fetus, shielding his face with his hands as Yoshi’s freestyle grew more passionate.

  “Spit,” Noodle said, blue eyes shrinking. “You’re spitting on me.”

  Unmoved, Yoshi straightened, breaking into dance in the small space between the bus’s living room couches. When Yoshi did a standing back-tuck, Shaun and Adam winced from the couch across from Noodle, one false move away from catching one of his black Chucks in the teeth.

  Yoshi pulled off the flip, however, which only seemed to egg him on more. He was immediately back in Noodle’s face for round two of his freestyle, turning his black baseball cap backward, wagging his neck as the bass picked up, the beat so strong the carpeted floors shook.

  “Dude. Still spitting,” Noodle cried when Yoshi got in his face again. His square jaw tightened.

  From the small kitchenette booth, Aria and Jon burst into laughter as Yoshi broke into dance again. Jon swigged from the Jack Daniel’s bottle that never left his hand.

  Being the only person in the room dancing didn’t deter Yoshi. Sometimes Aria wondered if he preferred it that way.

  He did another backflip, and Shaun actually climbed onto the couch completely, pushing against the windows of the bus.

  Aria giggled. “Don’t worry, Shaun. If he feels the flip going out of control, he’ll always aim for Noodle.”

  “I don’t understand how you guys have this kind of energy.” Shaun relaxed once Yoshi had plopped down on the couch next to Noodle, his chest heaving. Noodle nudged him, and Yoshi nudged him back. “You just spent the last two hours banging your heart out, Yosh, and now you’re in here doing gymnastics. Like, how?” Shaun asked. “I get exhausted just brushing my teeth in the morning.”

  “Cocaine is a hell of a drug.” Noodle winked at Shaun.

  Yoshi turned his baseball cap forward again, shading his hazel eyes. “For him, it is.”

  “Oh. Right. Yoshi doesn’t get high.” Noodle nudged him again. “Yet.”

  Shaun shot Adam a look. “You guys have to be the most vanilla rock stars on the face of the planet—”

  Yoshi shot up in his seat, his eyes wide as saucers, clutching his wrist.

  “What’s wrong?” Shaun asked, noting his rapid change in demeanor.

  Yoshi came to the edge of the couch, wide eyes searching the floor of the bus, dashing like a wild scanner. Cursing under his breath, he tapped his wrist.

  “His bracelet. If you can even call it that anymore,” Adam explained, tightening the arm he had slung around Shaun’s shoulder as he pointed towards the bottom of the couch. Yoshi’s eyes followed Adam’s finger and he exhaled, falling to his knees and scooping the bracelet up from the floor. “Probably flew off somewhere around the second back-handspring, you fucking idiot.”

  “That piece of string is what put that panicked look on your face?” Shaun laughed. “You looked terrified. I was expecting something much shinier.”

  “He loves the shit out of that piece of string.” Adam smirked. “Panics every time he misplaces it or it falls apart.”

  Yoshi swallowed thickly as he attempted to retie the ‘bracelet’ with one hand. When it proved impossible, he turned to Noodle, who begrudgingly sat up and tied it back together for him. After five years of touring, the bracelet was still holding on after several rounds of superglue, duct tape, and even a safety pin, which held the two larger pieces together. The original lime-green color was barely visible anymore.

  “Must have a lot of sentimental value,” Shaun said, once Noodle finished tying the string. “Who gave it to you?”

  “His Bo,” Adam teased.

  Shaun smiled. “Who’s Bo?”

  Yoshi looked up and met eyes with Aria just as the bus driver called out, “Okay, Shaun. 10th Street.”

  Shaun’s mouth fell, and she squinted out the windows, drinking in the familiar skyscrapers outside. “Man, we’re here already?” She began to stand, still peering out, as if hoping there was some mistake and the bus wasn’t approaching her apartment building. “Damn….”

  Honks blared from every angle as the massive bus came to a stop on the narrow Manhattan street. The brakes screamed with the effort it took to bring that monster to a halt.

  Shaun toppled forward at the sudden stop.

  Adam leapt up and caught her in the nick of time, just before she went barreling to the floor. Yoshi and Noodle showed no mercy, bursting into laughter.

  “You’re the biggest spaz I’ve ever met,” Adam teased, bringing Shaun back to her feet. The moment she tossed her curly hair away from her eyes, sighing in relief at her near fall, and met his eyes, Adam sucked in a breath. “Don’t go,” he begged.

  Every soul on the bus groaned.

  “Adam,” Shaun whispered, searching his eyes. “We talked about this….”

  Adam pouted. Now that he was offstage, free from the glare of spotlights and the adoring screams of his fans, his coy green eyes were free to drink in the only girl who mattered. Poking his lip out even more, he gripped Shaun’s waist in his tattooed hands. “Just one more night. Philadelphia’s only two hours away.”

  “I have work first thing tomorrow. I can’t just follow you all over the country like I don’t have a job. A career. Goals and aspirations outside of being your groupie.”

  Adam pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re so much more than that to me. You’re going to be my wife one day.”

  Shaun pulled back and threw up her left hand. She shot a look at her empty ring finger, frowned, reclaimed Adam’s eyes, and then wiggled her fingers.

  “Ooooooh!” Noodle whooped, earning a sour look from Adam.

  Shaun’s fingers continued dancing. “As long as this finger goes lonely, you’ll find me at work, every Monday morning, at nine a.m. on the dot. Just in case one of those groupies in the pit succeeds in reeling you in with her double Ds.”

  “You saw that chick too?” Jon asked from the kitchen table, soft brown eyes ballooning. “Front row center? That rack was a thing of miracles.”

  “I missed my whole cue, bro,” Noodle cried. “I almost swallowed my t
ongue.” He made claws at his biceps. “Even Yoshi fucked up his countdown when he got a load of that rack. That pale skin, those Porky Pig nipples—”

  “Noodle!” Shaun cried, holding out her hands.

  “Don’t worry, Molten, I’m down with chocolate nipples too,” Noodle reassured.

  Shaun rolled her eyes, unable to fight a smile.

  “Don’t go.” Adam dug his fingers into her T-shirt. “I’m in shambles without you. I’m miserable without you. I can’t go eight months.”

  Shaun chuckled. “Try to remember that when you find yourself face-to-face with a new pair of tits tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t want anyone’s tits but yours.” Adam’s eyebrows came together. “At least ride with us to Philly… We’ll dance our asses off at the club, and I’ll fly you back in time for work tomorrow. Please….”

  “Molten,” Noodle deadpanned, motioning to Adam. “This is pathetic to watch. Please toss this man a bone so I can stop throwing up in my mouth already.”

  Aria grinned from the table, leaning forward on her arms as she drank in Adam and Shaun. She couldn’t deny it was adorable. Adam had grown accustomed to getting what he wanted from women; he rarely had to ask twice. Seeing him beg was a sight to behold.

  Shaun craned her head to the side when Adam wrapped his arms around her and began feathering soft kisses up and down her neck. “You guys know I’d love to stay on this bus and follow you all over the country…” She sighed when Adam’s kisses grew deeper. Her next words were strained. “But I’ve got an article to finish, and a superior who’s ready to take all the credit the moment I turn it in. The New York Times doesn’t write itself….”

  Adam groaned while sinking down, arms still tight around Shaun, pulling her clothes with him as he slowly went to his knees. Once he was on the ground, he buried his face in the zipper of her jeans and groaned again.

  “This is super uncomfortable,” Jon said.

  Shaun shrugged. “What can I say, guys? He loves me.”

  “What he loves is that choco-taco.” Noodle beamed. When Shaun shot him a look, he straightened, covering his heart like her eyes had driven a dagger through his chest. “Molten. That look. Choco-taco is a form of endearment.”

  “It’s a slur, Noodle.” Aria nodded from the table. “A racial slur. I need you to do much better.”

  “I would never use a racial slur with my Molten…” Noodle shot Shaun puppy eyes. After drinking in her understanding sigh, his eyes fell to Adam, still on the floor. “Jesus, Adam, enough. If you’re honestly this pussy whipped, why don’t you do what Yoshi does for Aria and give Shaun a job on the road?”

  “She can’t do anything,” Adam mumbled, face still buried in Shaun’s zipper. “She can’t dance. She can’t lift heavy objects. Her singing voice makes me depressed…” Adam finally looked up just in time to catch the swat Shaun had waiting for him.

  “And, for the record, Yoshi has nothing to do with me singing backup on tour,” Aria said, feeling the need to defend herself. “I mean, yeah, he got me the audition, but I’m the one who showed up and knocked it out of the park, okay?”

  “And who writes the songs that require your backup vocals?” Noodle asked. “Hell, who writes all the songs? Yoshi and Adam. And I know Adam isn’t writing any of the tunes that require that sexy, sultry voice of yours. That’s all Yoshi. I’m sure he has you in mind when he’s writing them.”

  “Or… I have the success of the band in mind,” Yoshi jumped in, his eyebrows pulling. “And may I add that every award this band has won has been for a song I wrote.”

  “I’m just saying. When a man wants a woman around this badly—” Noodle motioned to Adam “—he will always find a way.”

  The bus driver whistled, catching everyone’s attention. “Sorry, Adam, but we’ve really gotta get going if we’re going to stay on schedule. We’re already off by two hours.”

  Adam took a deep breath and stood. His green eyes searched Shaun’s for several moments, and then his head fell. “I’ll walk you up,” he whispered.

  After Shaun gave everyone quick hugs and kisses good-bye, she and Adam stumbled off the bus and onto the bustling street of her New York City neighborhood. The fans who had been tailing the bus instantly made their presence known, screaming Adam’s name. Some of them even screamed Shaun’s.

  “Does Shaun’s building have security?” Jon asked.

  “I hope so.” Yoshi laughed.

  --

  Once the band arrived at Splash Nightclub in Center City, Philadelphia, it was well past midnight. If the zooming purple strobe lights, sonorous hip-hop music, and grinding young bodies surrounding them were any indication, the party had just gotten started.

  All activity came to a halt as one eye after another landed on Adam, who led the group, right behind the club promoter guiding them to their table. Aria smirked at the familiar gleam of awe in their eyes as they took Adam in. Burly security guards flanked the band, but even they weren’t enough to keep silver and gold-bangled arms from slipping in to sneak a touch of Adam, Yoshi, and Noodle.

  Noodle tossed winks and smiles at the groping hands, offering his chest to every manicured claw snatching at his black T-shirt.

  Aria took up the rear of the group, tightening her fingers around Yoshi’s as he held her close to his body. She adjusted her sleeveless black midi dress, which fell past her knees, leaving just an inch of space between the hem and her black combat boots. When she realized she was already getting hot amidst the shoulder-to-shoulder club-goers, she wished she hadn’t let her mid-back-length afro out of its rubber band for the night.

  Even with security guarding them at every angle, Yoshi still held her close, making sure his body was always shielding hers. He was so close that all she could see was the back of his strong, bronzed neck and the dusting of black hair peeking out from his backward baseball cap. Whenever she accidentally bumped him and tried to take a step back, he’d tug her in again without even looking at her, knowing how easy it was for an unfamiliar face to become disconnected from the group.

  Aria’s head flew to her left in shock when she heard her name being screamed from the crowd. She was always surprised when the fans knew her. Some of The White Keys’ fans were die-hard, however, and didn’t just know the names of the band, but their road crew as well. Even some of the security guards had fan followings. She wondered what it was like to be so well known that even the people who worked for you became famous by association.

  She smiled in the direction of the person calling her name, allowing Yoshi to help her up the steps once the group arrived at their table. It was located in an elevated booth that overlooked the bumping club and was connected to a private balcony. The towering Center City skyscrapers winked from the tall windows.

  She tried to sit in the booth, her fingers still locked around Yoshi’s, and was surprised when he kept a hold of her hand and pulled her back to her feet, dragging her after him onto the balcony.

  She let him, waiting until they were both leaning on the railing outside, the cold night air biting their cheeks, to tilt her head at him. “Half-naked cocktail servers, house music, every assortment of liquor known to man, and you bypassed all of them, without a second glance? Have we met? What have you done with my Yoshi?”

  Yoshi muttered something, kicking his black Chucks on the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

  Aria’s voice lowered. “Something’s going on. You started acting strange during the drive up here. Quiet.”

  “It’s all good.” His smooth voice broke, going hoarse in the middle of his sentence the way it often did, similar to the dark clouds impeding the moon above. That fracture in his bedroom voice often emerged when he sang, and in Aria’s opinion, it was what made his voice so different—so special.

  “It’s all good,” she mimicked, deepening her voice. She reached out and shoved him. He stumbled but recovered quickly. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  “Why’re you so violent?” he accused.


  “I’m only violent when you bullshit me. How do you not know by now? I’ve always got my eye on you…” She cocked her good eye at him, glaring with it. “I only have one, but I can still see you. And it knows something’s off. You were fine on the bus a few hours ago. What’s up?”

  “Look…” He chuckled. “Truth is… I do have to tell you something, and it’s getting harder to avoid. It’s eating me up a little bit.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. When you’re in a club and not bouncing off the walls, being loud as hell and assaulting every hot woman in sight, I already know something is wrong.”

  He hesitated, took a deep breath. “Remember that Sony exec I told you about? The one I performed two songs for way back?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, you said you put your whole foot in it, but he never called.”

  “Well, he called, and I think this is it. He wants to sit down and talk about a solo contract. I’m flying to LA after tomorrow night’s show, since we’ll have a couple days off.”

  “You’re flying to LA? Secretly?”

  He pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his tapered jeans. He came out with a red lighter, flicking the flame on and off as he nodded. “Secretly.”

  “So, you’re leaving The White Keys?”

  “Nothing’s finalized. But if and when something is finalized, no, I’m not leaving the Keys.” He stepped forward and cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, searching her gaze. “We’re leaving the Keys.”

  “But…” Aria stepped back, breaking their connection. “Adam.”

  Yoshi watched her retreat, keeping his body open to hers even as she backed away. “I know.”

  “He saved our lives.”

  “I know.”

  “Dragged us out of the trenches.”

  “I know.”

  “We didn’t have shit.”

  “I know, Bo. Damn. You think I don’t know?”

  “Would you really feel right going behind his back? Doing it all in secret?”

  “The exec says it has to be on the low.” He took a moment to drink in the look on her face then held his tattooed arms out at his sides, showing his lean frame. “Does my life stop because I play drums for Adam? Do I stop going after what I want? My dreams, my passion, my happiness? Do I put everything I want on the back burner, just because his feelings might get hurt?”