Daltrey (Pushing Daisies Book 4)

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Daltrey (Pushing Daisies Book 4) Page 3

by Heather Young-Nichols

“Well, then you’ll love this.” Gary either pretended not to notice that she almost fell or he didn’t care because he didn’t say a word.

  As we passed by people to get to wherever this guy was taking us, I slammed into a tall, dark-haired man hard enough to cause him to drop the guitar he’d been holding. Emery noticed but Gary kept walking.

  “Oh, shit,” I said as I reached out to try to catch the instrument. No luck. It hit the ground with a loud clank and bounced twice.

  I knew nothing about instruments, but the thing had to be expensive. It was for a professional player and I prayed it wasn’t broken or if it was, he wouldn’t expect me to pay for it. It was an accident after all and he was probably at least half at fault.

  I swallowed hard. “Sorry for bumping into you.” When I glanced at Emery, her eyes were wide, her jaw slack, and she was blinking a million times per second. I narrowed my eyes on her and shook my head and Gary finally noticed that we weren’t with him anymore.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  “No problem,” the man told me as he took me in from head to toe. Something about the way he was looking at me made me think I should have been annoyed, yet I just raised an eyebrow and let him look. There was something about him that made me not mind his appraisal. His dark eyes felt like fire against my skin. The hand he used to pick up the guitar was attached to an arm with a bunch of tattoos. The biggest being a dog of some kind but I couldn’t make out which breed. He leaned into my space and said, “You, uh, want to bump into me later?”

  Well, now I was annoyed. All of his hotness began to disappear. I could let a dude look because nobody could control someone’s eyes, but that comment pissed me off. He was clearly talking about sex and I didn’t know him. Maybe he hooked up with random people whose names he didn’t know, but I didn’t.

  “Does that line work for you?” I asked.

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “Sometimes.”

  “Poor women,” I said, then I walked away from him.

  I’d chosen our staple concert outfit, as had Emery. We were both wearing short jean shorts and a tank top. My hair was down, though hers was up in a bun. She was wearing sandals while I’d been opting for my worn Chucks. This was about being comfortable with the focus only a little on being cute.

  “Oh my god,” Emery said breathlessly when I caught up to her.

  “What?”

  “What?” she repeated. “What the hell happened back there?”

  “I bumped into that roadie and made him drop the guitar. Then he made a gross comment and I walked away.”

  Emery stumbled over her own feet. “Ella, seriously? Roadie? That wasn’t a roadie.”

  Before I could ask her what she meant, we were ushered into a room where the members of Pushing Daisies were already waiting. They were laughing and joking around when the biggest guy with them, one I knew I’d never seen before, used his booming voice to command their attention.

  “Guys, this is the radio show winner whose birthday it is.”

  The three others quieted and turned toward us. I pointed at Emery like an idiot and then realized that one member must’ve been missing. There were four on stage, though I didn’t know which wasn’t there. The one with the booming voice must’ve been their manager or something. He was even dressed differently, less casual, than the other three.

  Daisy, Van, and Bonham introduced themselves to us as if we didn’t already know who they were. OK. I didn’t except for Daisy, but Emery did.

  She talked to them calmly like she’d promised and explained what we were doing this week when Gary mentioned this would be our fourth show this week.

  “You’re doing an entire week of shows?” Daisy asked. The woman was smaller than I’d thought she’d be. She was so powerful on stage that it was hard to believe that all that talent came from such a small package. Though who was I to compare? Neither Emery nor I were very tall, even if she had me by two inches.

  “It was her one dream,” I told Daisy, though it was kind of weird to think of her as a rock star. They all seemed pretty normal but Daisy was being so kind and interested that it was hard to think of her as anything but a regular person we might’ve met in a bookstore.

  “Let’s do the picture,” the big guy who wasn’t actually part of the band said as he came back over to us.

  I’d guessed he was their manager, given how he was dressed, in dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was incredibly good-looking. They all were. There must’ve been some genetic lottery struck with them and I wondered what their parents looked like. Emery had told me that their oldest brother managed them and I could see the resemblance. Only Daisy stuck out as at all different with her bright red hair.

  It was also nice not to be the only redhead in the room, though hers was much starker than mine. People called mine strawberry blonde all the time, though my hairdresser called it gilded copper.

  Daisy’s would’ve been bright copper.

  “Daltrey’s not here yet,” Daisy protested. “They’re supposed to get a picture with all of us.”

  “She is,” I corrected, though had no idea why I did. “I can take the picture if you want me to.”

  The big guy shook his head. “It’s not a problem. You don’t want to be in the picture?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Of course she does,” Emery answered for me as she yanked me toward her. I just smiled and nodded.

  I didn’t want to be rude.

  “I’m here. I’m here.” A blur of a man ran into the room, out of breath, but he slowed down when he got to the group.

  “’Bout time, Daltrey,” Mack said. I’d heard one of them call the big guy that and definitely remembered Emery saying that was the oldest brother in the band’s name.

  Oh, shit. Daltrey was the guy I’d run into in the hallway and made drop the guitar. That was why Emery had been slack-jawed and fumbling for words.

  Oops. I hadn’t recognized him. Why would I have?

  When his eyes met mine, he winked which made me roll my eyes. His cheesy pickup line was going to stay with me forever.

  The four of them got together and Emery stepped up in front of them. She reached out and yanked my arm again so that I’d join the group photo as well. That woman was pretty strong because that yank spun me around and sent me tumbling right into the group. Someone put their arm around my waist and righted me then snapped that arm back like they were afraid I’d bite.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, mostly because I knew it was Daltrey I was standing in front of.

  I could feel the heat of his body against my back, which relaxed my muscles far too much. I got the sense that I should never relax around Daltrey. Not in a stranger-danger sixth-sense sort of way. There was no fear he was going to kidnap me then authorities would find my body months later in an unmarked grave. It wasn’t that kind of sense. No. It was more that I’d need to be on my mental game one hundred percent around him.

  His lines might’ve been cheesy but given my track record, I could easily fall for them if given enough time. I was trying not to do that anymore.

  Good thing this meet-and-greet was a one-time thing and after this week, I wouldn’t even have to see him in person ever again unless he was far away on the stage.

  “Must’ve been fun growing up with so many brothers,” I said to Daisy, who was standing between Emery and me. She flung an arm around each of our shoulders, though I noticed the guys were extra careful not to touch us. With the exception of Daltrey’s chest keeping me from falling.

  Daisy sighed. “You have no idea.” Then she glanced at me and the weight of her eyes made me turn my head toward her. “Or maybe you do.” She giggled. “I forget that other people probably have siblings like I do. Even if not as many.”

  I laughed with her. “I’m an only child as far as I know.”

  She shrugged and said, “OK, then. You do have no idea.”

  I liked Daisy. As talented as she was, she could’ve been
a diva. Could’ve acted as if she were too good to hang out with Emery and me, even though it was only for five minutes. Yet she was warm and welcoming.

  This was something Emery was going to talk about for the rest of her life and Pushing Daisies had just solidified their spot at the top of her list. Not that they’d been in any danger of losing that spot. Unless Brooks Deveraux proposed marriage in the next decade, I’d guess they were safe since he was her next-favorite singer as the lead of Forever 18.

  Him, I couldn’t stand, so I was thankful that it was Pushing Daisies that Emery wanted to follow around. Their music was decent.

  After a round of goodbyes that Daltrey didn’t participate in as he pushed himself away from the group with his arms folded over his chest and a grumpy look on his face, we were led back out to the arena to find our seats. The radio guy stopped at an usher to scan our tickets so we’d counted as being in.

  It was definitely a memory that would stay with us for a long time. Probably forever.

  “So what’d you think?” Emery asked once we were at our seats.

  “About?”

  She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “You really don’t get impressed, do you?”

  “Oh. The band. They were great.” I glanced around. “Actually, these seats are great.”

  “I’m glad there are seats. Ya know some of them are general admission.”

  “I know. I’m glad too. I hate general admission.” At the same time, we both said, “I like to have my space.” Then we fell into a round of giggles.

  This was unreal. We were sitting on the floor for the first time since we started this trip. Fourth row to the right of the stage. It was the best view Emery was going to have this entire week and she’d won these things.

  “I can’t believe you bumped into Daltrey on the way in. That you literally touched him.”

  “Um…” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I think he bumped into me, but it doesn’t matter. All I could think of was how expensive that guitar probably was and you make it sound so dirty.”

  Her eyes widened as she nodded. “I know. I wonder if it’s broken and if it’s the one he uses on stage.”

  “I’m hoping they have backups.” Because I really didn’t have the money to pay for it. I rolled my eyes. “But that guy was a douche.”

  Her eyes widened as if I’d just smacked her mama. “Why would you say that? What’d he say to you?”

  “I told him I was sorry that I bumped into him and he asked if I’d want to bump into him later.” I shook my head at the memory. “It was clearly a double entendre.”

  “Daltrey Thompson hit on you?”

  I clasped my hand over her mouth. The last thing I needed was for every person in the surrounding area to hear her. The music hadn’t started yet and it wasn’t that loud.

  “Would you be quiet?” I asked as I slowly freed her mouth. “People don’t need to hear that and I’m sure he wasn’t being serious. If I would’ve said yes, he’d probably have shit his pants.”

  “Unlikely,” she told me. “From the online rumors, I’d say he was very, very serious.” She leaned in closer. “According to fans, he’s second only to Van in the hookups. Though Van doesn’t do that anymore because he’s got a girlfriend.”

  I cringed. Guys who enjoyed random hookups weren’t really my type. Assholes had been. Thankfully, we didn’t have to talk about it any longer because the lights went down and the music started.

  Daltrey wasn’t my type if everything Emery had said was true. Yet I still couldn’t take my eyes off his hands as they slid up and down his guitar. From all the playing, I’d guess he had strong fingers.

  Thankfully, I’d never have to find out because Daltrey Thompson would be a mistake for any woman.

  4

  Daltrey

  Another great show was in the books. Even I had to admit that this time, I’d put everything I had into that performance and it had felt good. I could get lost in the music and not think about how many people were watching us or the expectations that were weighing heavily on my shoulders. When I could do that, I was in Heaven.

  It didn’t last, but at least for this show, it was a reprieve.

  Tonight had been the first show in Chicago and since we were staying in a hotel. That meant there was no curfew for me.

  In reality, there was no curfew anyway. I didn’t want to be the reason my group was late to the next show because I’d held up the bus. Though at this point, I wasn’t completely sure that Mack wouldn’t leave without me, have someone fill in for me, and make me find my own way to the next city.

  No, today, I could go have some drinks and hopefully be left alone. Tonight I just wanted to be left alone with my good friend Jose. Cuervo, but that was just details.

  Women didn’t even interest me tonight. I was haunted by the memory of the woman I’d bumped into in the hallway before the show. Usually, I made an innuendo and the woman I’d spoken to giggled, played it off, or took me up on the offer.

  This one had recoiled as if what I’d said had grossed her out. It hadn’t even been particularly clever, but that never mattered. The women who hung around the venue or around the band were usually down for whatever we wanted to do. This one clearly wasn’t and she hadn’t even seemed to recognize me.

  Guess I was getting a big head. If I thought about it, a lot of the people at the shows didn’t even know us yet, but she’d actually been there for a meet-and-greet with us.

  Why wouldn’t she know who I was?

  These were just some of the thoughts running through my fucked-up brain. I’d say my drunk brain, but I couldn’t tell if I was all the way there yet.

  A few people came up to me at the bar. I’d sign whatever and they’d move on. It was weird getting recognized. It happened around the city back home, but that was really small potatoes. Most of these people wouldn’t have recognized me yesterday, but if they’d been at the show, now they did.

  Sometimes, only at night and when I didn’t have more alcohol than blood in my veins, I wondered if that was the reason for this newfound pressure in my chest. The fact that people were recognizing me meant there were expectations. Back home, we could do whatever we wanted, play whatever we wanted, and people had been fine with it because we’d been so small.

  Now… I didn’t even want to think of what came next and I knew I’d do whatever was best for the band without having to think about it.

  My brothers and Daisy were counting on me to come through, so I’d come through. Didn’t matter how I felt.

  I loved the music. It wasn’t about that. I loved the guitar. It was the attention that I’d grown nervous about.

  “You’re Daltrey, right?” a woman asked. I didn’t bother to even glance her way.

  “Not tonight, sweetheart,” I said. Since being on tour, it seemed I’d garnered quite the reputation and I wasn’t going to live up to that tonight. “My sexual services aren’t on the table tonight.”

  “She wasn’t offering you anything, dipshit,” a male voice countered, which did get me to look over.

  Beside me was a brown-haired woman of average height, beautiful if I could trust my eyes, and what looked like her decent-sized boyfriend. Now, I couldn’t know for sure if he was her boyfriend, but the possessive way he was standing behind her with his arms folded over his chest told me he probably was.

  “What?” I asked him, not her.

  “She just wanted a selfie,” he explained. “She wasn’t offering you anything.”

  “My mistake,” I told him. Maybe I’d had more to drink than I thought I had by now. My taste buds were trashed, as they tended to get after too many shots, and I could say with all honesty that I wasn’t seeing things completely clearly. “They usually are.”

  “You know what?” He pulled his girlfriend back to her protests. “You’re being a dick. Why don’t you go home and sleep it off?”

  I pushed to my feet, a move that caused the room to spin. “Calm down, buddy. It was an honest mis
take.”

  The man took another step toward me and I really hoped he didn’t throw a fist. I didn’t think I could dodge it and as fucked-up as I was, this wouldn’t end up well for me. I’d only ever been in two real fights in my life. Now wasn’t the time to make it a third.

  “Hey.” A woman with red hair slid in between us and put her hands on my forearms, which steadied me. “Why don’t I get you back to the bus? You can sleep it off.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Sure you are.” She glanced at the man behind her. Or at least one of her did. There was definitely more than one. I shook my head a couple of times and all versions of her folded into one. Now these wide, green eyes were looking up at me expectantly.

  More expectations.

  She turned to the man behind her. “He’s obviously drunk and I’m sure he didn’t mean any insult to your girlfriend.”

  “Just get him out of here so I don’t have to look at him.”

  “Will do.” She turned back around and started pulling on me. “Have you paid your tab?” she asked me. I nodded because I didn’t think I’d started a tab. I paid as I went. I thought.

  “He’s good,” another man told her.

  “Come on then.”

  She kept her hands on me, which thank fuck she did. I wasn’t the steadiest on my feet and while I originally hadn’t wanted to hook up tonight, when I slid my arm around her for balance, it felt right. Guess my little soldier is going some action tonight, after all.

  “Emery,” she called out too loudly. “Come on.”

  “What’re you doing?” the small blonde asked. Emery, I supposed, but there was no way I was going to remember that in the morning.

  “We’re getting him back to the venue before he gets himself beaten bloody. That guy wasn’t fucking around.”

  We stepped out into the cooler air. It was summer in… whatever city we were in, but the night air was cooler than the bar.

  “This way,” she told me, her arm around me and her hand on my hip. Another hand touched my other hip and I supposed that was to keep me from falling on my ass.

 

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