Just before The Freaks finished playing, I head back to the dressing room. I needed to practice that bass line, and backstage was the only chance I’d get. Thankfully, Miles wasn’t around. He and Jax were drinking with some of the crew. I sat in the corner and got lost in a world of my own music for a while. I didn’t know how long, but eventually, I needed a drink. I wandered out to be social.
Damo was sitting in the corner, fooling around on an acoustic guitar. He called me aside.
“Thanks for earlier on,” he said.
I thought he wasn’t going to make eye contact when he said that. He kept playing his guitar, a lock of hair flopping down over his face, but he suddenly looked up and smiled.
Holy fuck, the force of that smile almost had me reeling back across the room. I tried to stay cool, but that smile tilted my world. The force of it was almost tangible.
“No problem.”
He held my gaze, and I wanted to keep looking. I wanted to show him that he couldn’t intimidate me, but those blue eyes seared into me. They had an intensity that I’d never noticed before. That gaze, and the smile. My body burned. My skin prickled. I became way too aware of every part of me. The faint memory of his body against mine floated into my head. That hadn’t been a drunken dream. It had happened.
I looked away.
“You’re not bad,” he said. “You picked up that song fast.”
I shrugged. “You’re not bad yourself.”
Even though I tried to sound cool, my hand automatically rubbed my neck, and I was pretty sure I blinked way more than normal. I definitely blushed.
He laughed. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. It really softened his face. He became so much more than the bastard dictator of the tour. I wanted to keep looking at him. I wanted to do other things to make him laugh. And, suddenly, I liked that look in his eyes.
I gulped and started walking to the drinks table. I couldn’t stick around, staring at him. But he took hold of my arm to stop me.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a way that showed that those words didn’t come naturally to him. “About sound check yesterday, I mean.”
“No need to apologize. Just don’t do it again.”
Despite my flippant answer, my heart pounded like crazy. His words, his heart, the heat of his hand on my wrist.
“I was an idiot,” he said. “I guess you can stay on the tour.”
What did he mean by that? Of course I could stay on the tour. Was that even in question? Maybe it had been. The moment, the magic, dissolved, replaced by a leaden heaviness in my belly. This guy might be acting nice now, but he was still holding our future in his hands.
“But try to keep your boyfriend in check,” he added.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend, and I’m trying, trust me.”
Fuck. There was no way I’d take the blame for Miles’ shittiness, but there was no way for me to put the blame on him without it looking like a lame justification.
I brushed Damo’s arm off me. Screw him. Sure, he’d apologized, and sure, he’d thanked me, but he’d made damn certain I knew who was boss around here.
Chapter 11: Damo
As I stared down at her, something stirred within me. I had to watch that. Just because she was the only chick on the tour didn’t mean I had to start getting the hots for her. She’d sure saved our asses out there, though. Having to stop in the middle of the song could’ve killed the whole mood of the show. She’d stepped in as though she’d been playing with us for years, even restraining that overly zealous style of hers to keep up with us.
The crowd had loved it, too. Almost enough to make it a regular thing.
Hell, no. Her liquid eyes addled my brain, and I didn’t want that at all. But I’d have to cancel that shit about getting them off the tour. That’d be a bastard way to repay her. Half the problem I had with her and the rest of her band was that they didn’t seem to give a shit about music or about the fans, and I couldn’t work with that. But she obviously had enough sense about her.
The silence between us grew as awkward as fuck. I had nothing more to say, but I didn’t want to move away, either. I looked at her as though I was seeing her for the first time, looking beyond the tough rocker chick image and the overly made-up face. She had those sorrowful eyes that would surely turn a man inside out. And those lips. Oh, God, looking at those lips bought back visions of her sucking on that lollipop. I couldn’t get that out of my mind. I was like a pubescent boy with only one image in his spank bank.
Then she shook me off. I grabbed for her again, wanting to explain, but she evaded me.
“Damo,” Elijah called. “Get over here. Leave that poor girl alone.”
“I can look after myself,” she said.
I didn’t doubt that. Even though she was tiny, she sure was feisty.
“Thanks for tonight,” Elijah said. “If you want me to really thank you, drop by my room later.”
“If you really want to thank me, you’ll keep it in your pants, buster.”
The seriousness of a moment ago had disappeared. She could act tough with Elijah, but it was a playful toughness. She knew how to handle guys like him; that much was certain. I laughed at the fierceness on her face, and even more at the disappointment on Elijah’s.
I slapped his back. “I think she’s got you worked out well and good. Stick to the groupies.”
“And try to keep the volume down, too,” Polly added. “We don’t need to hear it.”
She rolled her eyes, then headed to the fridge to help herself to a beer. I watched her as she flipped the top off. Seconds later, Miles approached her. I couldn’t tell what he was saying to her, but his surly expression didn’t look good.
She shrugged.
“Leave it alone,” she said.
I had no idea what was going on between the two of them, but they really needed to sort things out. That tension came back. Just watching the two of them together made my shoulders tighten.
“She likes you,” Elijah said.
“Idiot.” I punched his arm as I walked to the fridge.
“She might not know it yet, and you might not know it, but it’s there. Sparks. Definitely sparks.”
“Not all of us think with our cocks,” I told him.
There were no sparks. There was barely tolerance. Elijah was never as funny as he thought he was, and if he didn’t shut up, she’d hear him.
“Yeah, well, Damo, not all of us spend our nights with only our guitar for company. You can love that guitar all you like, but it’s never going to love you back.”
“Oh, my guitar loves me back. It’s a pure love. The type of love you’d never understand.”
“Hey! Also, what’s this about kicking them off the tour? You decided that without consulting us? You can’t do that. This band is democracy.”
“Forget it. It’s not happening, anyway.”
He shot me a knowing look. I was about to explain myself when a leggy blonde walked in to the room. Elijah forgot I even existed as he honed in on her. Probably for the best. He could focus on her and leave me alone.
Matty came over. “I’m thinking of heading back to the hotel,” he told me.
His girlfriend sat in the corner, sipping on a Coke. The two of them both looked tired. Actually, heading back sounded like a good idea.
“Yeah, I’ll come back too. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll get one of the crew to organize a ride for us.”
I walked off to find Fartstard. He was consulting with one of the crew in the hallway.
“Van will be ready in five minutes,” he said.
I walked back into the backstage room to tell Matt. Polly was waiting with him and Fiona. She gave a start when she saw me.
“Polly’s coming back with us,” Matt said.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I can head back later.”
She didn’t look at me. I’d screwed things up there. I hadn’t meant to say anything about her staying on the tour out loud. The words had slipped out.
/>
God, that’d be Matty and his woman plus the two of us. If Elijah saw that, he’d have a field day. It would look like we were double-dating or some shit. Not that he was likely to notice with his tongue down that chick’s throat. But screw it. We were only driving ten minutes down the road. No big deal.
I shrugged. “You may as well join us. It might be hours before these guys are ready to quit.”
We walked out and got into the van. Polly flopped on the seat in front of me. She stretched her legs out and turned to face me.
“What’s this about deciding to keep us on the tour, anyway?” Polly asked. “Was there any other option?”
“Nothing to worry about,” I told her.
I wanted to take those words back. I wanted to go back to that moment with her liquid eyes and that soft smile. Instead, she scowled.
“If you’re thinking of kicking us off, then, yeah, it is something to worry about. We’re on this tour for the duration,” she said. “We have a contract.”
“Drop it. It’s not an issue.”
“But it was.”
I might as well be straight with her.
“It was. I don’t like drama on tour. I don’t want to know about you and your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or whatever he is, and all your relationship drama. I don’t want that bleeding over into your performance. So long as everything’s kept professional and offstage and away from me, that’s your business.”
She huffed. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it.”
For a moment, I wanted to reassure her, but she turned around in her seat so all I could see was the back of her head. There was nothing I could say, anyway. I’d told her the truth, and if she didn’t like it, that was her business.
There was just the silkiness of her hair and that alluring glimpse of skin at the back of her neck and an awkward silence. I’d screwed things up.
Chapter 12: Polly
While we were waiting to go onstage the next night, I went looking for Jax. I needed to talk to him alone. For some reason, he was in The Freaks’ dressing room. They were still checking stuff, and Jax was there alone. I suspected he’d been planning on stealing some of their superior pre-show snacks.
“We’ve got to do something about Miles,” I told him. “He’s going to ruin everything. If he’s got something to say to me, he can say it, but he can’t keep acting up onstage.”
Jax shrugged. “You know what he’s like. He’s not likely to change.”
There were two big platters of food, and Jax inched closer to them. They were covered with plastic wrap, though, and he’d need to unpeel that without it looking obvious. We had food in our dressing room, but it was nothing like the luxuriousness of that platter.
“I’m dead serious about this, buddy. If he doesn’t get his shit together, there’s a possibility we’ll get kicked off the tour. That’s not from me, that’s from Damo. He’s been considering it. I can’t deal with this on my own. You need to step in to help.”
Jax grimaced. “There’s not a helluva lot I can do.”
Jax could be way too laid back for my liking, but he was the only one who could help.
“Take him out and get him drunk, then get him laid. I’m pretty sure half his problem is that he’s frustrated. Dudes and their emotions.” I rolled my eyes. “He hasn’t been with anyone since we broke up. At least it’ll put his focus somewhere else.”
I hadn’t been with anyone else, either, but then I wasn’t the one acting like a five-year-old having a temper tantrum. And while it wasn’t the best solution, it was the only thing I could think of to get him to back off a bit.
Jax drummed his hands against the edge of the table. He never stopped drumming.
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” Jax said. “You won’t get jealous?”
“Hell, no.”
If anything, I’d feel sorry for any other woman who got mixed up with that jerk. But if it was just a one-night stand, she’d be okay.
Before we could say any more, The Freaks came into the room.
“Why are you hanging out in our dressing room?” Elijah asked. “Can’t get enough of me, obviously.”
He gave me a huge grin.
“More like Jax can’t keep his hands off your delicious sandwiches.”
“Help yourself,” Elijah said. “We never eat half of it. Damo has some girlie freakout about eating carbs, and if Crow eats before we play, he throws up. It’s way more food than I can handle.”
He took off the plastic and offered the platter to Jax. Hell, now they’d have Jax in here before every show. That guy loved food. He loaded himself up with tasty little sandwiches.
“Want to play the bass with us again tonight?” Elijah asked me.
“Hell, yeah. You serious?” My grin nearly split my face.
“Yeah, you were great, and it’ll give me a break to scan the crowd.”
“You should discuss these things with us before making the offer,” Damo said. “But if Polly’s okay with it, then why not?”
I tried not to jump around the room. After all, I had to maintain my cool image, but inside I jumped around like crazy. Jax didn’t look too happy, though.
“That’s not going to help things with Miles,” he said when the others stopped paying attention to us. “He thinks you get too much attention as it is.”
“I can’t help it,” I said. “And any attention I get helps all of us. He should work that out for himself.”
If it had been up to me, we’d all get equal attention, but being a woman, I got opportunities that the guys didn’t, like those “women in rock” articles that should be redundant by now. The few times we’d done photo shoots, people had fussed about my clothes and makeup, then put me up front. Shit like that that riled Miles up, but it couldn’t be helped. I hated it too, hated being treated like the novelty factor, but we were in this to win, and if it took a pout and a sexy outfit, I’d do it.
“He’s never going to be happy,” I said. “I either do too much or not enough.”
Jax put his arm around me. “He’s got issues.”
I didn’t want to mention throwing Miles out of the band. Of course, Miles had only said it because he thought it was a ridiculous idea, but I’d be a helluva lot happier if we had another guitarist. I didn’t want to be his scapegoat forever. The idea just seemed too immense, though. This band had been Miles, Jax and me. Dumping Miles for someone else seemed wrong. It’d be better to just leave and find another band, otherwise Miles would never let up on us “stealing” his band. But even from the start, Miles had been happy to just coast while Jax and I did everything. We were the ones who hassled people to let us play. We were the ones who ran around town pasting up posters and contacting people to get our name out there. We booked the studio time for rehearsals, and we organized everything. Miles took most of that for granted. After we worked our asses off, he’d breeze in to play gigs, then want to bask in all the admiration.
Of course, when he didn’t get that admiration, he got nasty.
And after we broke up, he got nastier. I don’t know what he thought, maybe that I’d wither away and die without him or something like that, but that was never going to happen. I did not need him in my bed or in my heart. I’d been much happier without that emotional rollercoaster in my personal life. I just needed it gone from my professional life, too.
When Miles finally turned up, Jax and I pulled apart. If Miles thought we were talking about him, he’d get all paranoid and crazy. If we could get through the night without that, I’d be happy.
“You guys ready?” he asked.
“Well, since we’re been here for over an hour, yeah, we are.”
Even if I didn’t want to provoke him, my mouth had other ideas.
Miles scowled. “Hey, I’m ready. I don’t see any need to waste time lingering around here. I had important stuff to do.”
That important stuff would’ve been sleeping in, but I kept my mouth shut for once.
“Hey, Miles, want to
hit the town after the show tonight?” Jax asked.
Miles gave me a look.
“I mean just us,” Jax said. “A guys’ night out, no chicks allowed.”
I pouted. “That’s not fair. You can’t shut me out.”
Miles’ face perked up. He loved the idea of me being shut out. I knew that’d work better than anything to tempt him to go out.
“Guys’ night out, huh? Sounds fun to me,” Miles said.
Elijah leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs so he could look at Miles and Jax.
“Boys’ night out! Hell, yeah, I’m in,” he said.
I wanted Jax alone with Miles to get things worked out, but I could hardly tell Elijah to butt out of it. Within minutes, some of the other guys, including the crew were into it too.
“Stripper bar!” someone yelled.
I rolled my eyes. That was not what I’d intended at all. Still, there wasn’t much I could do about it now. Maybe a stripper bar and some male bonding was exactly what Miles needed. I’d have a quiet night alone at the hotel.
It was only later that I realized that Damo hadn’t been in on the boys’ night out planning.
Chapter 13: Damo
With everyone out on the town for the night, I decided to work on some new material. Even though I had my own suite, I never knew when one of the guys would interrupt me. I’d been in the middle of nutting a few things out a few nights ago when Elijah had banged on my door, wanting to borrow a t-shirt because he’d only packed two black ones. Like I wanted my t-shirts stretched out over his muscles. I’d told him to go buy himself a new one. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. When I tried to get back to work after that, everything was gone.
The guys would be out all night. Tomorrow was a rest day, no shows, so it wasn’t like there was any need for them to get back any time before daybreak.
Guitar Freak Page 5
