by Amy L. Gale
I exhale and continue to stare. “It must be awesome to travel the country doing what you love.”
“Sometimes I think I’m going to wake from an awesome dream.” He rocks his head backwards. “There are drawbacks too. Like the times when I just want to relax and hang out but have deadlines and time constraints. I never get to stay in one place for very long when we’re on tour.” He looks down at the ground and then back up at me.
My phone chimes. I let out a deep sigh. Why couldn’t I have left it on the coffee table tonight? I check the message. It’s Sydney.
Brooke and I will wait for you by the car.
I set the phone beside me.
Van snatches it up and starts pressing buttons. He presses his lips together, holding back a smile.
What reply could he be sending to Sydney? Oh God, please don’t let it be something I’ll never live down. I fidget with my fingers.
“My sister and roommate are waiting for me. I better go. Thanks for my backstage experience. I’m glad I can officially say I’m no longer a backstage virgin.” I hop up from the stage.
A slow smile builds as the moonlight reflects off his chiseled jawline. “The pleasure was all mine. This may have been the best time I’ve ever had backstage.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I smirk, rocking back on my heels.
“You’d be surprised. Walk with me,” he says and holds his hand out to me.
My whole body tingles with pure adrenaline and my heart hammers as our skin makes contact. We start walking back, hand in hand, through the hallway. The butterflies return with a vengeance, fluttering in my stomach. It’s unnerving how this man can affect me with just his touch.
“Hey Van, there you are,” calls a voice in the hallway. It’s the bass player.
“Hey Tyler, meet Lexie.”
Tyler nods. “Hi.”
Tyler has a true rocker look with long blond hair, soft blue eyes, and a few tattoos on his biceps and forearms.
“Hi,” I answer, twirling my hair around my finger.
“See you on the bus buddy,” Tyler pats Van on the shoulder and continues down the hallway. .
“Wow Van. Nice,” another voice says.
“This is Chaz, our drummer.”
“Hey, good for you buddy!” Chaz blatantly looks me up and down. Wow, all those muscles really show off the tattoos covering his arms. I glance up at his buzzed cut brown hair and brown eyes. Each of these guys is truly an individual. He strolls past us with a scantily clad blonde on his arm.
Van shakes his head. “Just ignore him, I do.”
We walk back up the steps and out of the corridor to the parking lot. Van stops in front of a third guy. I recognize him from the show as the band’s guitar player. If Van wasn’t Devil’s Garden’s front man, Marcus would be the hot rocker of the band. My eyes ascend, focusing on his thick, light-brown, wavy hair that begs you to run your fingers through it. His clear blue eyes could pierce your soul.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Marcus asks.
“Definitely! You guys were great!”
An attractive woman, who could easily be Playmate of the Year, walks up to us and stands beside Marcus. She sweeps her long, wavy blond hair from her shoulder and lets it fall down her back as she turns toward us.
Van runs his hand through his hair. “Hey Jenna, meet Lexie.”
Jenna looks at me with cold eyes. She lowers her eyebrows. “Please Van, I meet one of her every night.” She rolls her eyes and walks away.
Van shrugs. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” Jeeze, just because I’m with Van doesn’t mean I’m his one-night stand. I pull down my skirt as we make our way through the parking lot. Maybe I misjudged the other girls backstage.
We walk up to the only car left in the parking lot.
“Van Sinclair, this is my sister Sydney, and my roommate, Brooke.”
Sydney jumps off the trunk of the car, a huge smile plastered across her face. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Van replies.
Brooke stares, her eyes traveling across our intertwined hands. “We loved the show.”
Van slides his free hand into his pocket. “Thanks, I hope you girls can make it to another one.”
Van lets go of my hand and turns toward me, his gaze meeting mine. My nerve endings stir and tingle. My body craves his touch. A little lightheaded, I look into those emerald eyes and lose myself for a moment.
He steps forward, slowly moving his face closer to mine. My heart hammers against the walls of my chest. Breathless, I close my eyes and clench my sweaty palms. His cheek brushes mine as he whispers in my ear. “I had a great time tonight. I hope to see you again sometime soon.”
His soft lips graze my ear, sending a powerful surge to my core. Every cell in my body awakens. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and the butterflies again take flight. I inhale quickly, catching my breath, before I melt into a puddle. “Thanks for a great night.”
∞
I’m on the receiving end of a police interrogation during the car ride home. Are Brooke and Sydney playing good-cop bad-cop?
Sydney squints and stares right into my eyes. “Ok, spill it.”
“Honestly, we just sat around and talked. I don’t know why you two don’t believe me,” I maintain.
“Please, I saw the way he looked at you.” Brooke raises her eyebrows. “Something had to have happened.”
I pull into the driveway and make my way into the apartment. “I really wish my life is as exciting as you two think.” I shake my head and disappear into my room. However, my huge smile refuses to extinguish as I change into my pajamas and get ready for bed. Lying down, I mentally relive the highlights of my amazing night. Just as I place my cell phone on the night stand, it chimes. No doubt more ribbing from Sydney or Brooke.
I grab my phone and look at the screen. Am I dreaming? I rub my eyes and look at the small bright letters. I turn on the lamp on my nightstand and focus my attention on the words I never imagined would grace my cell phone screen. Holy crap! I have a text, and it’s from Van Sinclair.
CHAPTER 2—INVITATIONS
Hope you enjoyed your backstage adventure. I know I did.
P.S. Tell your cheating ex he’s a moron.
Oh my God! My hands start shaking as I try to keep hold of my cell phone. Van Sinclair is texting me? I scroll through my contacts. I gasp and focus my eyes on the last entry. The words “Van Sinclair” glow like the light of a thousand candles. Huh, when I thought he was replying to Sydney’s message he must have actually been adding himself in as a contact and then discreetly calling his phone so he’d have my number. Shivers surge through my body. Van is planning to stay in contact. The butterflies start their slow, steady flutter in my stomach and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. Now is the moment of truth. I have two options.
Number one, I can ignore the text. Obviously, any type of relationship with Van will be doomed from the start. He’s touring the country and never in one place for very long. To make matters worse, he’s constantly sought after by sex-hungry women.
Number two, I can text back. I really have nothing to lose, unless you consider that I’ll most definitely get hurt if this ends badly. He’s just so damn irresistible. Every cell in my body awakens with his slightest touch. Will it be fair to deprive myself the chance of ever having that feeling again?
My window of opportunity is short. Sweat forms on the edge of my hairline. I hate making quick decisions! What am I doing? It’s not like he’s proposing. No need to over-analyze the situation. My face flushes and my body trembles as I press send. As usual, desire overrules rational thought.
I thoroughly enjoyed every part of my backstage deflowering
My phone chimes again.
I’m proud to be the man to claim that honor ;)
Is it possible for him to be any more appealing? He just keeps getting better. My phone chimes again.
I hope you’re not
mad that I hacked your cell phone. I just don’t want tonight to be the last time we talk.
My entire body trembles and my stomach twitches. As usual, my insecurities dominate my mind. Why would someone like Van Sinclair want to get to know me better?
There’s really nothing special about me. I’m just a new college graduate with a BS in business who’s starting my career in the fall. He’s going to be utterly disappointed when he comes to that realization. I’m sure he can take his pick from all of his gorgeous fans. Why me? Regardless, I’m going to keep this conversation rolling. I wipe my palms along my soft cotton sheets and let my fingers dance against the buttons.
I’m not mad, I’m flattered…and technically its morning.
He’s not nearly as intimidating when we’re texting. Thank God for modern technology. My phone chimes again.
I guess it is morning. Well then, technically, we just spent the night together.
My face heats up as blood rushes through my veins. Spending the night with Van would be divine paradise. My tongue brushes over my lips. I pause and try to think of an equally clever comment. Then, my phone rings.
Van Sinclair appears in large letters on the screen. My heart palpitates and my stomach quivers. I twirl my hair around my fingers. My nerves are getting the best of me again. I’m not nearly as confident face to face or ear to ear. I take a deep breath, press answer, and hold the phone to my ear.
“Just so you know, I’d never spend the night with you and not call the next day. So, how’s your morning so far?”
My heart flutters and my face is on fire. He’s a romantic at heart! “It’s off to an exceptionally good start. I hope it’s an indication for the rest of my day. How about yours?”
“My morning’s pretty awesome. I get to spend it talking to a beautiful and intriguing woman. On the down side, I’m looking at being stuck on the tour bus for the next few hours,” he says.
Oh my God. Every word coming from his mouth makes my stomach flip flop. If my heart beats any faster I may have a heart attack. I can’t contain the smile spreading over my face. This handsome, talented, rock-god thinks I’m beautiful and intriguing? That clearly indicates he must be at least slightly psychotic, but hey, nobody’s perfect.
“Believe me, I’m far from beautiful or intriguing at this hour,” I assure him.
“I should decide that for myself.”
I lightly touch my throat as my body tingles again. “Where’s your next stop on the tour?”
“We’re headed to the Jersey Shore. Tyler’s cousin is the entertainment manager at Bader Field in Atlantic City. He got us a gig. We probably won’t fill the place but it looks really good that we got booked there. It’s not prime shore weather yet, but it’s June next week and Atlantic City’s always hopping.”
“The beach is beautiful any time of the year. I think I owned an ocean house in a past life. I’ve always loved listening to the sound of the waves and digging my feet in the sand. It’s very therapeutic. I hope you get some free time to enjoy it.”
“We actually get to stay for two nights. I’ll make sure to take some beach time for myself. When you live in Kansas you don’t see much sand.”
I chuckle. “You get to see everything on tour; from the mountains to the valleys to the oceans.”
He laughs. “God Bless America! So what’s on your agenda for today?”
“I’m my sister’s wedding planning slave. I’m not exactly sure what she has planned, but I’m sure she’ll insist that it’s all part of my duty as maid of honor.”
“Weddings rock. There’s lots of food, booze, and cheesy music, and someone’s usually drunk on the dance floor.”
“I’m sure the trashed dancing machine will be from our side of the family. The wedding is at Sydney’s fiancé’s family plantation in Savannah, Georgia.”
“Mint juleps can get you just as drunk as Jagerbombs.”
“Well then, bring on the mint juleps! I’m actually pretty excited to see Savannah, even if it is to watch my sister become a Stepford wife.”
“From the impression I got of your sister, she won’t be turning into any Stepford wife but she might turn her fiancé into a Stepford husband.”
I lay my head back against my pillow letting the tension in my muscles subside. “Her assertiveness is one of the things I love about her. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He sips a drink and clears his throat. “Nope, just me. I consider Marcus my brother and his parents my family.”
“Marcus seems nice. However, that girl he was with may need anger management.” Crap. What’s wrong with me? I’ve just insulted one of his entourage.
He exhales and lowers his voice. “Jenna is Marcus’s wife. They’re high school sweethearts and got married right after we graduated. She really is a cool girl. She just hates groupies and assumed you were one of them.”
A low growl forms in my throat. “That’s understandable, although it’s never smart to assume. I’m definitely not a groupie.”
“You are most definitely not a groupie, Lexie.”
I turn and look at the clock. 4:00 a.m. I’m going to be like a zombie later but this is so worth it. Loud voices invade our conversation.
He covers the mouthpiece, muffling the sounds. “How long will you be confined to wedding planning slavery?”
“Well, Sydney’s picking me up at eight o’clock but didn’t really let me know how long my sentence will be.” I giggle. “I guess we’re playing it by ear.”
“Do you realize it’s four o’clock and your sentence starts in four hours?”
“I’ll be exhausted and useless to her, but it’s worth it.”
“Hopefully you still feel that way later,” he says as he yawns. “I’m going to let you get some sleep and I’m going to grab some zzz’s too.”
“Ok. Goodnight, Van.”
“Goodnight, Lexie.”
I wait until the phone clicks indicating Van ended our call. There’s no way I was going to be the one to hang up first. Even though I know I’m in store for a busy day, I can’t sleep. The pounding of my heart and endorphins flowing through my blood are giving me a second wind. Van Sinclair can do such amazing things to me with just the sound of his voice or the slightest soft touch. He fills my thoughts as I finally drift off to sleep.
The alarm clock sounds like an executioner’s bell. I frantically slam my hand around the night stand, desperately trying to hit the snooze button. After succeeding, I rub my eyes and stumble into the shower. I let the warm water hit me, hoping it will revive me enough to make it through the day. I finish getting ready and check myself out in the mirror. Amazing! I look pretty good. It must be from the adrenaline rush of my after-hours phone call. My face is glowing. Van Sinclair has turned me into a lustrous siren.
I walk into the kitchen to make myself coffee and find a note on the table.
Thanks for a great night! I had a blast at the concert with you and Sydney. Gone to Dean’s. Catch ya later. Love, Brooke.
Brooke always leaves me notes knowing I usually forget my cell phone and will miss a text. Not anymore. My phone won’t be leaving my side from now on.
The strong bold aroma of fresh ground beans heightens my senses as I sip my coffee in the quiet kitchen. I’m definitely not in the mood for more interrogation. I’m also not ready to tell Sydney or Brooke about the phone call. I want to keep it private for now. Today, however, is about Sydney. I’ll put everything else aside and focus on her and her wedding. I’ll be the maid of honor extraordinaire.
There’s a knock at the door. I open it and find a man holding a bouquet of Gerber daisies.
“Alexis Waters?” the man asks.
“Yes,” I reply and take the flowers into the house. My hands tremble as I set the flowers on the counter. Wow, first a text, then a phone call, and now flowers.
I tear open the envelope and remove the card. My jaw stiffens as my eyes flow over the blue handwritten letters.
Sorry for everything Lexie. Lov
e, Jesse
Oh my God, does that creep really think he can win me back with flowers? Is there an appropriate gift to say, ‘Sorry I fucked around on you, you should forgive me? Even Hallmark can’t tackle that one. If he cared so much he wouldn’t have cheated in the first place.
I throw the card in the garbage and move the flowers to the kitchen table. They’re beautiful, regardless of their intent.
Just then, there’s another knock at the door. I open it and flinch. Jesse stands in my entranceway, leaning against the frame while looking down at me. My heart hammers and my body freezes in the doorway. Great! I was hoping I wouldn’t have to face him again. Alphabetical order already punished me at our graduation ceremony. Sitting two seats away was close enough.
“I understand that you’re really pissed off. I want to tell you that I really am sorry and I promise I’ll never let this happen again. Please, let’s just get past this minor setback so we can move on with each other. It was a meaningless fling and it’s over. Please forgive me.”
My fists clench into balls and my body temperature rises. How can he be so arrogant? He really thinks I’m going to excuse him for this ‘meaningless fling’. Does he actually think he’s entitled to my forgiveness? Well I’ve had enough.
I shout through my clenched teeth. “You’re a cheater and a manipulator. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“Please, everyone knows what you see in me. Isn’t it obvious?” Jesse says with a smirk.
“Go fuck yourself!” I shout and slam the door.
I press my back against the door, resting my weight against the strong hardwood, and momentarily stop breathing as the rate of my heart doubles and my chest begins to tighten. Please don’t let me pass out. Why is there suddenly no air in the room? I breathe rapidly as tears form in my eyes. I cover my face with my hands, trying to stop them. A gut-wrenching sensation develops and a sour taste invades my mouth. I close my eyes and remember walking into Jesse’s dorm room only to see him hovering over the blond. Why can’t I stop replaying that night over and over again in my head? My pulse soars. I scroll through my phone and look through the texts Jesse sent to me right afterwards.
