And in the following weeks, Ethan never even came close to laying a hand on me and his lips didn’t get near mine again. But we did attend basketball games together, eat together, and study together (although we talked more than we studied). We started spending so much time together, I began considering him my best college friend. And if that meant nothing else would ever happen between us, I’d be okay with that. We had an understanding, a common bond, and our friendship was growing stronger every day. I’d be okay with just friends.
I was becoming more and more anxious to see his band Bullet. Ethan talked about it a lot, and I told him I was excited. One afternoon, we were in the library, both logged onto computers because we’d been doing research for papers, and I reminded him about the fact that I suspected Bullet was a name that had already been taken. And while Ethan might have been okay with that, I just wanted him to be aware. So we looked it up, and sure enough, Bullet was taken by more than one band. Ethan was bummed and then started searching for other names for bands having to do with ammo, like Full Metal Jacket (which he didn’t want anyway, because it belonged to a movie), and other things. He was shocked at all of the names that were taken. “Don’t worry, though, Val. I’ll figure something out. Except I don’t know how I’ll tell the guys.” I looked at him, perhaps with a little too much eagerness. He started laughing, then realized his voice was probably too loud. “Yeah, yeah…I’ll introduce you to the guys, okay?”
I started giggling and lost myself, wrapping him in a hug that I think made him blush. And why he couldn’t get a clue, I didn’t know. I knew he wasn’t gay, so what was the problem? Maybe I would have to find a way to be more forward.
But he gave in to my incessant demands to introduce me to “the guys.” His roommate, Zane Carson, was the band’s bassist. I didn’t say anything but wondered why he hadn’t introduced me to him long ago, even if it had been just as a roommate. He and Ethan had gone to high school together and decided to give higher education “the good old college try,” Zane said. Zane had chin-length black hair and striking blue eyes, made all the more astonishing because of his dark pupils. His skin was an olive color and his dark eyebrows made his eyes somehow look more seductive. He was tall and muscular but not bulky. Damn, he was a gorgeous specimen of college man, but I was so hung up on Ethan, I hardly noticed.
Unlike Ethan, though, Zane was quite talkative. We were all hanging in the Student Center one afternoon, the second time I had a chance to chat with Ethan’s roommate, and he was talking about the band. He liked to talk about the formation of their band, how—even though they’d known each other their entire lives—they’d become friends because of the desire to make music. He talked about their town, high school, and their other two bandmates. According to Zane, the other two still lived in their hometown and worked, waiting for whatever opportunities they had to get together and play. Zane was…well, he was a truly beautiful guy. The dark shoulder-length hair, baby blue eyes. He and Ethan were about the same height and build. Zane, though, was more carefree, a bit of a jokester, whereas Ethan hugged the dark side. Just based on his words, I could tell that Zane was a loyal and sweet young man. And, yeah…he was easy on the eyes. Zane and I got along well, and I could tell from the short time we’d known each other that we could become good friends.
And just a few days later, Ethan invited me to take a trip home with him the following weekend. Then, he said, I’d be able to meet the other half of Bullet.
Well, Bullet wasn’t going to last much longer. The name, at any rate. I found that out soon enough. I should have been responsible and stayed in my dorm room, because it was the weekend before final exams. I should have spent that time studying. But this was Ethan asking, and I agreed without hesitation. I did decide, though, to take my notes and textbooks so I could study when I had a few spare moments.
Friday afternoon, Ethan drove Zane and me through a blustery snowstorm to their hometown. I hoped my luggage stored in the back of his truck would survive the wind, snow, and ice. We stopped at a convenience store where Ethan gassed up, and I got a coffee while the guys got sodas. I wanted something hot because I was chilled to my bone. Once we got back in the truck and on the road, I was tense because of the accumulating snow. But it didn’t take me long to realize Ethan was just fine. The snow on the roads didn’t bother him at all. After a few minutes, he started talking. He had a smirk on his face when he said, “So, Zane, Val completely fucking ruined our band.”
Zane’s brows furrowed but then he smiled. “She did, did she? And exactly what are we gonna have to do about that?”
Ethan kept his eyes on the road, but he raised his right eyebrow and glanced over quickly. “Someday I think we might have to thank her. For now, though, I’m gonna choose to be pissed at her for a while.”
“Why? What’d I do?”
“Oh, yeah, acting like little Miss Innocent. Fess up, Val. Tell Zane what you did.”
I was aghast. I really had no idea what he was talking about, and I was at a loss for words. I just shrugged my shoulders and looked over at Zane. My head felt like a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between the two guys. Zane was genuinely enjoying the repartee, but I was starting to feel frustrated.
Ethan let out a long sigh. “Turns out that Bullet has been taken as a band name…over and over and fucking over. Apparently, we weren’t the only guys to think that was just the sickest name ever.”
“Well, shit, that sucks.”
“Yeah, and even though I was pissed to find that out, I am glad to find out before we got a big following or tried to get signed to a label.” I saw the look on his face change. Now he looked satisfied, and when he talked, I knew why. “But what do you think about this?” He took a second to glance over at us again when he said, “Fully Automatic?”
Zane’s brows bore down on his eyes as he tried the name out on his tongue. “Fully Automatic…”
I was holding my breath without even realizing I had been. I thought the name was fantastic, but I didn’t want to jump in yet. Zane said it again. “Hmm…Fully Automatic…” He nodded his head. “Yeah. I think that’s pretty cool.”
“Good. Problem solved. And I checked. There aren’t any bands that go by that name.”
“Ours now.”
I smiled. “I think it’s great too. It’s still evocative of a gun.”
“That it is. So…thanks…I think.” Ethan looked over at Zane. “I’m gonna need your help convincing Brad and Nick.”
“I don’t think it’ll be that hard, do you?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. When we first came up with our lists of names, Brad pushed for Bullet. He loved that name.”
“Yeah, but he’ll feel like I did. It kinda sucks if it belongs to other people.”
Ethan nodded and bumped me with his elbow. “Maybe we’ll make Val tell him.”
I started giggling and waving my hands in front of myself as though to ward off trouble. Zane said, “I think she could definitely soften the blow.”
“Then it’s decided,” Ethan said.
“I didn’t agree to any such thing.”
Ethan looked over at Zane, an earnest look of confusion on his face, but he was teasing me. “Zane, did you hear something?”
“Nope. Not a thing.”
“I didn’t think so.” He grinned at me and winked, then leaned over and turned on the CD player, cranking it, and Slayer came through the speakers. I leaned my head against the back of the seat. The roads might have been bad, but I was having fun. Although I didn’t know it, it was one of the last innocent fun times I was going to experience in my young life.
After some time, though, we drove through a sleepy little town. Ethan turned off onto a side street and pulled his truck to a stop in front of a large white ranch-style house. Zane opened the door and Ethan said, “See you in a while.” Zane bobbed his chin in agreement at Ethan and smiled at me, then reached in the bed of the truck for his bag. He shook off the snow and started walking down a path to the f
ront door. A woman with short brown hair opened the door and pulled Zane into an embrace. I was fairly certain the woman was his mother.
But before he was fully in her hug, Ethan was already driving down the block where he turned the corner. A few more blocks and we reached his house, a two-story brick home that had to be decades old. It didn’t appear to be rundown, just older. Once we got out of his truck, I enjoyed the feeling of stretching my legs a bit. Ethan reached in the back of the truck and grabbed both his luggage and mine. He said, “I guess mom’s not back from work yet.” I followed his eyes to the driveway and figured out his mother’s car was missing.
He handed me my suitcase, and we walked up to the door. Once inside, I looked around and fell in love with it. Just seeing the house made me love his mother. The place was decorated in warm, rich earth tones and velvety furniture. The wood used for end tables and the coffee table was probably mahogany, polished to a gleaming shine, and the sofa and chairs were a deep rich burgundy. I stood in the doorway for a few seconds just taking it all in when Ethan said, “Come on. I’ll show you around.” We walked through the kitchen and he asked, “Want something to eat?” I shook my head and followed him up a stairway at the back of the kitchen.
We walked down a hall into his bedroom. I dropped my suitcase just inside the doorway, not sure where to put it but definitely tired of carrying it. “Like it?” Like it?—I loved it because the room felt like Ethan. It wasn’t as big as our dorm rooms, but it was decent sized (and made for one guy). There were posters of some of my favorite rock bands on the walls, but also one with cars, and another two with nameless girls in bathing suits trying to look sexy. There were so many posters, I could hardly see the walls. A double bed took the back and center position right below a large window, a television directly across from it, and an electric guitar in a corner. My eyes riveted on that guitar and everything else in that room became background. I could only nod my head to Ethan’s last question. I knew he had a guitar at school too, a red-toned beauty, but this one was understated. It was shiny and black, completely black, from the strap pin on the body all the way to—and including—the head stock. It was one of the loveliest guitars I’d ever seen. Of course, I realized it was also because it appeared to be Ethan’s pride and joy. I walked over to it and squatted down on my haunches so I could really appreciate it.
Ethan was right behind me. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Want me to play you a few chords?” I nodded, excited, but then I heard his cell phone ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He smiled. “Hold on a sec.” He answered the phone. “Hey, dude. How’s it going?” He paused, and I felt a little uncomfortable just watching him talk on the phone. I needed to find the restroom too, so I walked over to the doorway and peeked out. I knew there had to be a bathroom up there somewhere, so I walked down the hall toward the mostly likely area. I could hear him talking and his voice moved with him, probably curious about what I was doing. He said, “You know that friend I told you about?” There was another pause on the line, and I didn’t plan to hear anymore as I’d found the restroom. By the time I was done, he was off the phone. I found him in his room again, and this time he was cradling that guitar on his lap, striking its strings. It was electric, though, and there was no amp nearby, so I could barely hear what he was playing. “That was Brad on the phone. He’s part of the band, and we’ll be going to his house tonight.”
I nodded. I didn’t want to seem too eager but, God, was I.
He got some sandwich supplies out of the fridge, and we made ourselves a couple of sandwiches. Then he switched on the television and started flipping through channels. “Mind if I do a little studying?” I asked. I was going to kick myself if I failed all my exams, just because I had to follow Ethan.
“Go ahead,” he said, and I set up shop at the kitchen table where I was less likely to be distracted by either the TV or the boy. And I studied hard until a while later, when Ethan came in the kitchen and asked to borrow a piece of my notebook paper. He wrote a note to his mom since she still hadn’t returned from work, and then we left so I could meet the band.
* * *
“Valerie, right? Ethan’s told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.” Well, if that wasn’t flattering and didn’t just make me feel like the belle of the ball, nothing would. Brad Payne, Ethan’s best friend, was a sweet guy who had an eye for the girls (at least that’s how Ethan had described him long before I had the chance to meet him and make a judgment for myself). He was taller than Ethan, though not much, with shiny black hair, longer than any of the other guys in the band. And his eyes were dark, full of secrets…but those secrets didn’t feel sinister, not at all. The way his lips looked like they were going to twitch up in a smile at any given second made me feel like his secrets were fun…and like he wanted to share them with me. Brad…he could almost make me forget about Ethan. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, so I was able to see he had half a sleeve of a tattoo on his right arm. He was already working on looking like a rock star. And he probably worked out. That much I could tell. He grabbed my hand to shake it and said, “Like the ink?”
Oh, God. I could feel the red heat rising from my neck as it spread to my cheeks. But I’d already been caught staring. “Yeah.” Might as well be honest, right?
Ethan had already plugged his guitar into the desk-sized amp and was tuning it, and Zane wasn’t far behind. So Brad, not letting go of my hand, mind you, led me over to the drums where Nick already sat. But he was on his phone, watching a video or something. He was a quiet guy but nice. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, and an almost shy demeanor. But I could tell even then that he was just as enthusiastic about the band as the rest of them, maybe even more so, because his work on the drums could speak for itself. He didn’t need to say a word, instead having to simply beat out a rhythm that anyone’s primal self could enjoy and get lost in.
I didn’t understand at first how they all fit together, but Brad had already strapped on a guitar as well, after finding me a lawn chair to sit on in the chilly garage. They had a couple of space heaters working double time, and I figured that was what kept the space bearable, but it certainly wasn’t cozy. Brad was determined to keep a conversation going with me, even if the other guys were already drowning in their own little rock worlds. “Ethan and I both play guitar, and he does a lot of the lead vocals, but I sing some too.” He winked. “It’s good for me.” He leaned over, ready to spill one of his secrets. “Ethan’s voice is probably better than mine, but we both suck...at least when it comes to clean vocals. The good music makes up for it, though. We’re a great team on guitars.” Brad started tuning his guitar as well, but instead of not paying attention to me, he faced me. Yeah, he was focusing on his guitar, but I could tell he wasn’t completely ignoring me either.
I looked over at Ethan. Yeah, right now, I didn’t exist to him. Only his guitar held any meaning in that moment. So I’d let Brad give me all the attention he wanted. He said, “We started out by doing mostly covers, but we’ve written four or five of our own songs. We’ve played small places, but I think once we have a big repertoire of music, we’ll feel better about booking bigger venues.” I nodded as though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
But I also knew I could get away with a lot with this guy standing in front of me. I already sensed that, and I planned to test my theory. “So do you guys actually play, or do you just stand around talking about it?”
Brad raised his eyebrows, a playful look spreading over his face, and he said, “Oh…” until the oh turned into laughter. Then he turned to his bandmates and said, “I think we have an impatient wannabe fan. Shall we, gentlemen?”
Ethan had a serious look on his face, and he nodded his head at Nick. Nick slid his phone in his pocket without hesitation and then tapped his drumsticks over his head, counting out loud, and then they began. I listened intently to the music, trying to identify if I knew the song or not, and concluded that this one must be original.
And I
sat back and enjoyed the show. They played a few covers of songs I knew (from Trivium, Marilyn Manson, and Judas Priest), but I focused on their original music. Brad was right…neither he nor Ethan had honed their singing skills enough (and Ethan’s voice probably was better than Brad’s), but I thought they had potential. They could sound great. Music-wise, though, they were already incredible. They had a unique sound, driving and hard, relentless, and I knew they needed to be heard by a lot more people than just little ol’ me in Brad’s mom’s garage.
What shocked me, though, was my personal response to their show. Ethan was totally into his performance. It was almost as though he was only physically present. His mind was in some big arena or hiding in the recesses of his mind, but he wasn’t there with us. Fortunately, his physical self knew what to do. But Brad…holy cow. There was something about him, and he ignited a spark between us that night. He had a stage presence, a charisma that I didn’t think Ethan would ever have. Brad was charming, cute, and sexy as hell. And, since I was the only audience member, I was treated full on to his stage persona. And that’s what I mean about Ethan not being there. It was like he didn’t even notice while Brad seduced me from a couple of yards away. I almost wished I was the mike he was cozying up to. At first I didn’t give it much thought as I got lost in his enticing eyes and he pulled me in. I let him. I was drawn to him and immersed myself first in his voice, and then I couldn’t get the image out of my head of him and me making out in the backseat of a car somewhere. It was like Brad was a vampire, and he was in glamour mode. I was the helpless victim, willingly drawn to my demise.
Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set Page 4
